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Chapter Text

The sun was shining, bright and hot, reflecting directly off the surface of the lake and into her eyes. She squinted, trying to make out the figures down by the water’s edge. She could hear their laughter from where she was sitting, half-hidden in the shadows of the sycamore tree, but was too nervous to ask to join in their games. She could never remember why exactly; something one of the boys had said or done, probably. Skinned knees and hurt feelings, such were the ways of children.

She shifted in place impatiently, tired of being ignored and quite ready to go home and pout for the rest of the afternoon.

At least there her pouting would be acknowledged by one of her parents…

She stood up, brushing dirt and grass from her skirt, but paused at the sound of voices approaching from behind.

A low murmur, followed by a light, tinkling laugh.

Monsieur and Madame Agreste.

Marinette felt her heart sink. What if the boys had told them that they didn’t want to be her friends anymore, and the grownups were here to take her home and tell her that she could never come back and play superhero or make blanket forts or— 

“Marinette, ma belle, why are you crying?”

Madame Agreste crouched in front of her, haloed by sunlight and looking like a beautiful fairy princess, all golden hair and eyes green like the grass. Her hands were soft and warm as they brushed away Marinette’s tears and that only made her cry harder. 

“P-please don’t m-make me go home!” She wailed, devastated at the thought. “I p-p-promise I’ll be good and I’ll let the boys play whatever they want—I’ll even help them c-catch frogs, even though it’s mean and icky!” 

Suddenly she found herself scooped up into a pair of slim but strong arms, cradled against a body that didn’t feel as nice as her maman’s but still smelled really good. 

“Shh,” Émilie crooned, rubbing Marinette’s back in an effort to soothe her. “It’s okay darling, no one is going to make you go home if you don’t want to.”

A few moments passed before Marinette was able to stop hiccuping, and calm enough to answer the adults' concerned questions. 

“Was one of the boys mean to you?” Gabriel Agreste cast a disapproving glance toward where his sons were playing. 

Marinette looked away, muttering under her breath. 

“Princess rescue…”

The Agrestes exchanged a look. Marinette got the distinct impression that they were sharing a secret or perhaps a joke at her expense, in that infuriating way that adults so often did. 

“What was that, dear?” Émilie asked, amused. 

“The boys want to play princess rescue!” Marinette burst out, frustrated at being laughed at and unable to hold in her ire any longer. “But they keep making me be the princess, even though I’m just as good at being a knight as Adrien.”

She huffed, puffing her cheeks out and scowling.

“And they told me if I didn’t want to be the princess then I had to be the horse! And I don’t want to be a horse either!” 

This time Mme Agreste laughed and even Monsieur Agreste cracked a slight smile, which up until that moment Marinette hadn’t even believed to be possible. She goggled at him, her prior dismay completely forgotten. 

Mme Agreste set her back down on the sun-dappled grass, kneeling to crouch in front of her. 

“You know, Marinette, you can be anything you want to be. The princess, the dragon, the knight. Even horses have to be brave, in their own way.” 

Marinette screwed up her face at the thought. 

“And you’re so brave already. Perhaps the boys just feel like they need more practice at it.” Mme Agreste winked, her eyes twinkling like they contained all the secrets of the universe.  

Marinette pursed her lips, considering. 

At last she nodded, satisfied. 

“I am much braver than them.” She conceded, warming to the idea. “Did you know that Adrien still cries every time we have to put worms on our hooks when we go fishing? Even Félix still makes Papa do it! I’m the only one who can do it myself.” She puffed her chest out proudly, carefully not mentioning the fact that Papa still wouldn’t let her handle the hook by herself, claiming it was too dangerous for five-year-olds to do on their own. Even though she was almost six!

The nerve!

But Marinette knew she could do it, if she wanted to.   

To her surprise, Mme Agreste snorted, before devolving into peals of laughter.  

The sound rang out like bells across the lawn.  

Everything began to grow bright and fuzzy around her, like the sun had been persuaded to shine brighter in response to her joy. 

Félix looked up at the sound of his mother’s laugh, turning fully to face them when he caught sight of Marinette. He gifted them with one of his rare smiles, wide and so beautiful everything around him seemed to get brighter. His blonde hair caught in the wind, whipping around and obscuring his eyes at the last moment. But she knew they would be sparkling and blue, so blue. Just like the summer sky behind him.

She felt a hand settle atop her head, the touch soft and tender, just like the voice that spoke. 

“They both have gentle hearts, my boys.” Marinette could tell even without looking that she was smiling. “They may not show it, but they need you just as much as you need them.”

“Will you look out for them for me, Marinette?” Her voice began to fade, sounding farther and farther away. 

Marinette began to run, drawn forward into the light, towards the sun, the sparkling lake, and the promise behind that brilliant smile.

The last thing she heard as everything began to blur, bright and indistinct around her, was Mme Agreste’s tinkling laughter, and her words carried on the summer breeze.

“I swear, those two were made for each other.”

-x-

Chapter Text

“I swear, those two were made for each other.”

The words rang in her head, following her consciousness as it rose from the depths of slumber. 

As a result, the first coherent thought Marinette had upon waking was how odd of an occurrence it was for her to remember anything from her dreams. Normally she was the kind of person from whom dreams escaped almost as soon as the fog of sleep started to dissipate. 

Her second thought was something more to the tune of:

Of course, this dream. And of course it would come back now. 

It must have been some kind of sign from the universe, or her ancestors in the great beyond. They were sending her a message. And the message was: You go, girl! 

Although normally one to dawdle in bed, content to draw out her morning routine for as long as humanly possible, Marinette leapt to action this morning like a woman possessed. She was showered, face washed, and teeth brushed before she’d even bothered to scroll through her phone for messages. She took more time with her hair and makeup however, wanting to make sure that everything was perfect. 

She was a woman on a mission after all, and she wasn’t about to blow the entire affair because of a few small details.

Giving her outfit a final once-over, she nodded to herself in the mirror, satisfied with her efforts. 

It’s go time. 

Marinette skipped down the stairs, whistling her closest approximation of a jaunty tune. Which was somewhat, although not entirely, hindered by the fact that she didn’t exactly know how to whistle. 

No matter, though. She was manifesting the spirit and energy of someone to whom cheerful whistling came naturally this morning. Nothing could bring her down today.  

Because it was a beautiful day, and summer was here, and they were finally back at the cottage after the longest three hundred and sixty-five days of her life. 

“My, someone’s in a good mood this morning.” Her mother remarked from her spot in the kitchen.   

“Morning, Maman!” Marinette leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Papa?”

“He’s ‘fixing’ something in the basement.” Sabine gave her a long look, one that was loaded with meaning. 

Marinette froze, her jubilant mood slightly dampened at the thought. 

“Oh no... Already?”

A heavy clomping on the stairs heralded the arrival of her father, who emerged from the cellar covered in dirt and dust, looking like he’d just walked off of a battlefield. 

“Honey, do you know where I put the power saw?” He asked, his mustache twitching as he tried in vain to blow a pesky cobweb from his face. “I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Maybe check the shed, dear,” Sabine suggested breezily, not turning to face her husband. Although the look on her face implied she knew precisely where said power saw was located and had absolutely no intention of allowing it to fall into her husband’s hands. 

Tom hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, smearing more dirt and what appeared to be grease into his skin. “I could have sworn I left it down there...” 

His eyes lit up when they set upon Marinette, standing half-hidden behind her mother. 

“Marinette, chérie, what do you say to spending the day with your dear old Papa? I’ve got just the project for you—”

She held up her hands, backing away slowly. 

“Sorry, Papa, no can do! I’m waiting to hear from Adrien. They’re supposed to get here today and I really don’t want to get messy.”

Her father gave her a knowing look.

“Of course. Heaven forbid you mess up your hair before seeing your boys!” He waggled his eyebrows, chuckling at his own joke while her mother joined in. 

“They’re not my boys!” Marinette whined, embarrassed and not in the mood to be teased by her parents about this once again. 

To her consternation they continued chortling, evidently drawing endless amounts of amusement at her expense. 

She huffed, crossing her arms and looking away, well aware that it would only add to their impression of her as a petulant child. 

Besides, she thought sullenly, they had it all wrong anyway. There was only one boy she really cared about impressing…   

And there she was, wasting valuable time; time that could have been spent preparing, or going over her plans one last time. 

She snatched a croissant from the stash on the counter, shoving it in her mouth aggressively as she headed for the door, beating a hasty retreat before her parents could sidetrack her any further.  

And if she made sure to chew more violently in order to leave a trail of crumbs scattered in her wake? Well, they would just have to deal with it. 

The morning air was already warm when she emerged from the house, and heavily perfumed with the smell of freshly cut grass, as it would be for much of the summer. 

The breeze coming off the water was pleasantly cool on her skin, comforting in its familiarity. 

She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. 

It was all incredibly familiar in fact, because for as long as Marinette could remember, her family had been coming here, to their cottage on the lake. 

For two weeks during the height of every summer, whenever it started to become unbearably hot in Paris and her father was no longer able to stomach the ungodly temperatures put out by the bakery ovens, they would close up shop, pack up the car, and drive the six or so hours south of the city to their little getaway in the woods. 

Resting along the water’s edge, cradled sleepily by the Alps, Marinette’s family property had been passed down through the generations on her father’s side. Situated on a decent chunk of land, the cottage was small and cozy and the perfect home away from home for the Dupain-Chengs. 

It also happened to be completely unlike the rest of the properties featured along the lake.

It was on a beautiful plot, nestled amongst a world that contained more shades of green than Marinette had ever seen anywhere else in her life. Forest green mountains in the distance bracketed jewel-toned waters that could shift from turquoise and emerald to a stormy pine green in bad weather. The trees were Kelly green and spring green and yellow-green when the sun hit them just right. There was the green of the grass when it rained, and the forest shrubs with their murky undergrowth, and her mother’s garden which she loved so dearly, and had spent hours tending. Marinette could spend hours trying to put names to all of the colours around her; each memory a small keepsake to tuck away for particularly grey Parisian days.  

Her family home afforded her a perfect view of all the natural wonders the lake and surrounding lands had to offer—

A luxury speedboat zoomed past, there and gone in the space between two blinks, leaving a high-pitched ringing in her ears and an ugly, jagged line across the lake’s crystalline surface.

—and the not-so-natural.

Marinette sighed.

That was the only downside of these summers on the lake. It was pretty, and picturesque, and practically perfect in every way. And as a result, completely overrun by millionaires.

The area was a popular vacationing spot for some of France’s wealthiest and most influential people. Their multi-million dollar vacation homes (or, as Marinette liked to call them, butt ugly mega-mansions) were dotted around the water’s edge, as overbearing and unavoidable as their occupants. 

Occupants who could be spotted all summer long, sunning themselves while drinking lakeside, hosting gaudy garden parties and boozy barbecues, or jetting dangerously fast across the viridian waters in their speedboats and megayachts. Usually also while drinking.

Because most of them were stupid, entitled pricks. 

Marinette had never felt out of place there growing up, but now at nearly seventeen years of age, she was acutely aware of the disparity between her lifestyle and that of the rest of the lake’s summer residents.

While she and her family were by no means poor, they didn’t live extravagantly either. They had a small speedboat (which her father had purchased sometime in the late eighties and barely driven since) docked at their wharf, alongside an old but well-loved jet ski. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, but this place had provided the backdrop for some of Marinette’s most magical memories, and she knew that this summer would be no different.

Well, it might be slightly different, if everything went according to plan. 

Or at least she hoped it would be. 

Marinette sent up a silent prayer, her fists clenching at her sides. 

It had to be.

“Marinette!” Her mother's voice called, reaching her all the way down where she’d wandered by the water’s edge. “Your phone is ringing!”

Her heart leapt. She took off running towards the house, knowing already who would be on the other end of that phone call.

After all, she’d seen the cars in the Agrestes’ driveway when they’d driven in last night.

-x-

In a land overrun by ostentatious country homes and gargantuan mansions, the Agrestes’ house was possibly the most impressive of them all. It was certainly one of the largest houses on their side of the lake, though Marinette had never been particularly bothered by its size. Perhaps that was because it complimented the scenery around it, rather than trying to take away from the natural beauty of the environment. A perfect mix of rustic and modern, wood and glass and steel, it was obvious that it had been designed by someone with a keen eye for aesthetics.

Like, for example, the leading fashion designer in France and quite possibly all of Europe.

Who as it happened had just opened the front door.

“Hello Monsieur Agreste!” Marinette squeaked, trying to swallow down her surprise at seeing Gabriel Agreste’s forbidding face on the other side of the door. It was incredibly rare for her to run into the Agreste patriarch, and even rarer still for him to deign to answer his own door. She fought valiantly to keep her nervousness from showing on her face, choosing instead to smile slightly stiffly up at him.

He gazed down at her critically, assessing her from head to toe in a blink.

“You’ve grown,” he said simply, before turning in place and disappearing into the house. She quickly crossed the threshold, closing the door softly behind her. After all, that basically constituted a warm, welcoming bear-hug from Gabriel Agreste, and Marinette wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She toed off her shoes, then made her way up the stairs to the last door on the left. She could probably navigate these halls blindfolded, what with all the time she’d spent there over the years.

The hallway, like the rest of the house, was cool and dark and overwhelmingly quiet. Marinette felt a pang of sadness shoot through her. It hadn’t always been like this.

She quickened her pace, practically running towards the light at the end of the hall, socked feet slipping with every step.

Marinette was two steps away when the door suddenly flew open, the shift in light leaving her momentarily blind to the figure standing in the doorway. Too late, she tried to skid to a stop, but the impeccably polished hardwood floors left her with no traction.

All too used to scenarios like this, she closed her eyes and braced for impact.

She ran face-first into the door, before flailing back and landing on her butt.

“Oof!” said the door, landing beside her on the ground.

Wait…

Marinette opened her eyes, taking in the decidedly human and not door-shaped lump on the ground beside her. She couldn’t see his face but she’d know that blonde head anywhere.

“Adrien!” She squealed, throwing herself on top of him and squeezing him tightly.

“Can’t—breathe, Mari—” he wheezed, trying to squirm out from underneath her. She started, pulling back slightly to look at him.

“Sorry!” she laughed, a bit self-consciously. “I’ve been working out more lately and I guess all that weight training is finally making a difference.” She moved to stand, but suddenly Adrien’s arms were around her back, pulling her down and into his chest for another hug.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, his face turned slightly away. “I’m glad to see you.”

Marinette felt her heart swell with happiness.

“Ahem.”

The sound of a throat clearing had them both scrambling apart, cheeks flushing. Marinette turned around, feeling her eyes widen at the figure looming over them.

“If you’re both quite finished, I’d prefer it if you moved your tearful lovers' reunion to a location that isn’t the middle of my bedroom doorway.”

Cheeks positively burning, Marinette knew that she should say something, or at the very least deny the lovers comment, but she couldn’t muster up the brainpower to do much more than gawk unattractively.

Because there he was, in the flesh.

After two whole summers of not seeing him.

“F-Félix!”

-x-

Chapter Text

Félix Agreste studied her dispassionately, taking in her position sprawled inelegantly across the hallway floor. His blue eyes were as icy and distant as always.

Which was pretty ironic, since the rest of him was Hot As Hell. 

He was lean, just as she remembered. But he’d grown even taller, his frame broadening from that of a boy into one that more closely resembled a man’s. It was visible in the strength of his shoulders, the tapered line of his waist.

The years had been kind to Félix Agreste. 

His long blonde hair, which fell to just above his surprisingly broad shoulders, was impeccably coiffed, just like the rest of him. He looked good. Really good.  

I think he might have gotten even hotter… How is that possible? ???

Marinette scrambled to her feet, ignoring Adrien’s grunt of pain as she accidentally elbowed him on the way up. 

“Félix!” She beamed, throwing caution to the wind as she wrapped her arms around him for a hug. “It’s so nice to see you!”

He stiffened, clearly taken aback by this uncharacteristic display of affection. Marinette knew she’d crossed the unspoken boundary line that had existed between them for as long as they’d been acquainted. 

Félix didn’t do hugs. 

Which made it all the more surreal when he made no move to immediately pull away. Instead, Marinette was shocked to feel him slowly raise one arm, giving her a single, perfunctory pat on the back. 

Oh my god we’re hugging!!!! This is not a drill!!!

Marinette held on for as long as she dared, enjoying the feel of his broad shoulders and leanly muscled frame beneath her hands, pulling back only when she felt the muscles in his arms tense to push her away.  

Oh my god I can’t believe he let my body touch his body for a whole 4.725 seconds!!!!

Félix sized her up, one raised eyebrow the only sign of his bemusement. 

“Hello, Marinette.” He said at last, drawing her name out in a way that sent pleasant shivers down her spine. 

Even after all this time, the effect he had on her was as strong as ever.  

It was like after two years of not seeing him, suddenly having him back in her life had set all of her nerve endings alight, sending signals to her brain like fireworks.  

He’s back he’s back he’s back he’s back! Her body sang. 

It was potent. It was intoxicating. 

It was over too soon. 

Evidently deciding he’d been delayed long enough, Félix sidestepped her and made to move down the hallway. 

He did however take the time to throw a smirk over his shoulder to his younger brother, who Marinette was surprised to note was still sitting on the floor, silently observing their entire interaction. 

She felt a rush of guilt, having completely forgotten that Adrien was even there. 

But the guilt didn’t stop her from admiring—she refused to admit to something as base as ogling —Félix’s delicious back muscles until he eventually disappeared around the corner. 

She sighed dreamily, turning back to Adrien.

Adrien, who was still seated on the floor, looking decidedly grumpy and displeased with the entire situation. 

Marinette extended a hand to him, a figurative olive branch. 

Adrien looked between her hand and her face several times, posture radiating skepticism. 

“What?” She snapped eventually, annoyed by his obvious reluctance. 

“I’m bigger than you,” he said by way of answer. 

She felt her eye twitch.

Fine then, have it your way. 

Marinette grabbed him by the arm, hauling him bodily off the ground and to his feet in one smooth motion. Adrien staggered, off-balance, clearly surprised at unexpectedly finding himself upright. 

“And I’m stronger than I look,” she replied primly, feeling smugly satisfied that all those hours of lifting flour bags finally seemed to be paying off. 

Adrien didn’t reply, choosing instead to dust himself off, all the while grumbling under his breath about brutish, uncute girls. Marinette deliberately ignored the insult, preoccupied with bigger things.

Namely...

She pointed at him, her eyes narrowing.  

“You grew. Again.” She leveled it at him like an accusation, as if she’d caught him doing something illicit. Which she might as well have. 

Adrien preened under her attention, obviously pleased she’d noticed. 

“A whole eight centimetres,” he confirmed proudly.  

Marinette gaped at him, scandalized.

“Eight centimetres? How—? What kind of freak body grows eight centimetres in a year?” She sputtered in disbelief. 

Adrien smirked, leaning in close. He had to lean quite far down now, resting an elbow on her shoulder mockingly. 

“I’ll have you know that it’s perfectly normal. Most people—” here he gave her a significant look, “—experience these things called ‘growth spurts’ during puberty. Where they actually get taller!” His voice dipped exaggeratedly, like he was divulging a secret.

“Oh right,” he made a show of widening his eyes, as though suddenly coming to a realization. “I forgot who I was talking to for a second.” 

What an incredibly smug little bastard. 

“You’re hilarious.” She elbowed him in the side roughly, dislodging his perch with relish. Adrien grinned, unphased by her ire, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. Marinette pressed her lips together, struggling not to laugh right along with him. 

It really was nice to see Adrien in person again, especially after so many months apart. There was only so much texting and the occasional video chat could do to alleviate the absence and fill the best friend-shaped hole that was left in her life after every summer on the lake. 

Marinette wasn’t surprised to realize she’d missed him. 

She was just a bit surprised to realize how much she had, now that he was standing right in front of her. 

She followed behind him, listening to him chatter idly as they walked the familiar path to his bedroom. Marinette had spent so many hours in this house she could probably draw it from memory.

Félix’s room, at the end of the hall; mysterious and unknown territory. A couple of guest bedrooms. A bathroom. The study, the sunroom, the library, the game room, another bathroom. More guest bedrooms. And that was only the upstairs. 

And finally, of course, Adrien’s room, tucked away amongst it all. Or rather, the ladder leading up to Adrien’s room. 

“Are you coming?” He called, poking his head down when he realized she was no longer behind him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” She grabbed onto the rungs, careful not to misplace a foot or hand as she climbed. Although not a very far fall, she had little desire to wind up flat on her ass for a second time that day. 

Adrien was waiting patiently for her at the top, hand extended to help her up the rest of the way. 

“Up you go, Princess.” 

“Stop calling me that!” The response was automatic, deeply entrenched in her muscle memory. 

His green eyes twinkled as he flashed her a grin. 

Adrien knew she hated that nickname, which was exactly why he continued to use it. 

Marinette rolled her eyes, turning around to haul the ladder up behind her. 

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s this about now?”

Adrien knew what that meant. The ladder was only ever retracted when there was mischief afoot. 

“Top secret.” Marinette stayed mum, unwilling to divulge any more details until she was certain the trapdoor was securely closed. 

Satisfied that they were finally alone, she turned back to him and gave him her most winning smile. 

Adrien blanched. 

“I know what that look means.” He began backing away slowly, raising his hands like a shield between them. “You’re either about to rope me into something dangerous—and quite possibly illegal—or you’re about to tell me something that I’d really rather not hear.”  

She stalked toward him across the warm wooden floor. 

He held out a hand, halting her. “Is there a body? Just tell me if there’s a body, because I need to prepare myself mentally and emotionally before becoming an accessory to murder.”

“There’s no body.” She continued to herd him backward, her steps slow and methodical. 

“My father is fairly well-connected, you know,” his eyes were wide and nervous, darting this way and that; a cornered animal in search of an escape route. “I’m sure he could make a few calls. He has an excellent legal team—!”

Knees hitting the edge of his bed, Adrien fell with a soft thwump, his voice cutting off abruptly. 

He braced his hands on the mattress, leaning back as she loomed above him. 

“Adrien,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes. “I think it's time to take things to the next level.”

If possible, his eyes grew even rounder. 

“The next level?” He squeaked, the green of his irises rapidly giving way to the inky darkness of his pupils. She was so close now she could feel the puffs of his breath dancing across her cheeks. If she wasn’t mistaken, it almost seemed like he was leaning toward her. 

“I need you to help me seduce your brother.” 

He froze, his face going blank with shock. 

A pause, during which Marinette was convinced that neither of them breathed.  

Then all of a sudden Adrien went limp, collapsing back onto the bed like a puppet with severed strings. 

He threw an arm over his eyes, obscuring most of his face from view. 

“Tell me you didn’t just say that.” His voice was barely audible, muffled by his sleeve. 

“I didn’t just say that.” 

“You totally just said that!” He surged upward, catching her off guard as he pointed at her in accusation. He would have slammed headfirst into her if Marinette hadn’t jolted back at the last possible second. 

Adrien stared at her incredulously, as though waiting for her to announce that it was all a joke and she actually had no intention of wooing his hunky and reclusive older sibling. 

No dice, little ducky. She plopped down beside him, bouncing slightly on the luxurious mattress. 

“You don’t even have anything in common!” Adrien pointed out. 

“We have lots in common,” Marinette wracked her brain, suddenly finding herself on the defensive as she scrambled for something, any kind of proof to back up her claim. “We’re both...French!”

He gave her an unimpressed look, one eyebrow raised.

Gonna have to do better than that, it read. 

“Ugh, okay! So what if we don’t have that much—” here he gave her another look “—FINE, really anything in common? The most important thing is the love that we have for one another.” She sighed dreamily, clasping her hands under her chin and ignoring the sound of Adrien pretending to gag beside her.

“Yeah, well it takes more than love to make a relationship work,” Adrien said, his expression growing dull. “You both have to like each other first.” He paused meaningfully, not bothering to put words to what they were both thinking. Whatever feelings she might have for Félix, there was no guarantee that he would ever reciprocate them, regardless of their strength. Marinette tamped down on those insidious thoughts, having no desire to go down that road at the moment. No need to psych herself out before she’d even begun.  

“I don’t understand why you’re so reluctant to help me,” she groused, put out by his reaction. Adrien’s general disapproval was frustrating on so many levels, not the least of which being the fact that she needed his help to have any chance at success. None of her plans would come anywhere close to working if Adrien wasn't onboard. 

“Because he’s Félix,” he floundered, grasping at straws. “And you’re… you.”

He finished lamely, giving her a beseeching look, one that willed her to understand what he couldn’t find the words to say without getting offended. 

Marinette knew her jaw was hanging open unattractively, but she was too busy feeling extremely fucking offended to care. “What, so I’m not good enough for your brother or something?” Her voice rose.

“No!” Adrien was looking increasingly panicked. “That’s not what I meant. I just...”

She crossed her arms, waiting. 

“This is all coming out wrong, isn’t it?” 

“Uh-huh.” Marinette confirmed, not feeling particularly inclined to help him out of the perfectly nice hole he’d spent all that time digging for himself.

Adrien deflated, his breath coming out in a whoosh.  

“Look,” he said at last, rubbing at his forehead and sounding tired. “Have you ever considered, in all of your planning, that I might not want to be involved in any of this?” 

Marinette bit her lip. She.... hadn’t, actually.

In fact, she hadn’t even given more than a passing thought to how Adrien would feel about any of this. She’d never made much of a secret of her supermassive crush on his older brother, and although Adrien had never actively encouraged her, he hadn’t shown this level of reticence either. More a sort of weary, reluctant acceptance, like that of someone contemplating the inevitable heat-death of the universe.    

A tiny seed of something that felt a lot like guilt began to take root. 

Still, she pressed on, ruthlessly squashing it down as she focused on making him understand why this needed to work. Adrien would get onboard. She’d always managed to persuade him to go along with her schemes in the past. This time would be no different. 

“I know, and I’m sorry, but Félix is leaving at the end of the summer. And once he’s had a taste of everything university has to offer—” she grimaced with distaste, her mind flashing with images of Félix cozying up to beautiful, sophisticated older women. “—he won’t look back. It’s now or never.” 

She grabbed his hands, imploring him. 

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”  

“Forgive me if I’m not thrilled at the thought of you hooking up with my brother.” Adrien refused to meet her eye, but she could tell even by his profile that her Star Wars reference had succeeded in softening him up ever so slightly. 

He was coming around. 

“I don’t need you to be thrilled,” she said, setting her jaw stubbornly. “I just need to make sure you won’t get in my way or try to sabotage my efforts.” 

His eyes narrowed, sizing her up. 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I.” A statement of fact, not a question.

She patted his cheek, the gesture falling somewhere between affectionate and condescending, as the thrill of victory settled over her.  

“Quite possibly.”  

-x-

Later that night, when she was laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating the events of the day, Marinette made a mental note to herself. Stage one of her plan had obviously been too subtle, seeing how it had gone virtually unnoticed by everyone. 

If even her parents, who had seen her practically every day of her life for the past sixteen years, hadn’t noticed that she’d styled her hair with more care and applied more makeup than she normally would—all in an attempt to look more ‘mature’ and ‘womanly’, and thus more dateable—then there was no way that Félix Agreste, who saw her on an infrequent and irregular basis at best, would ever notice the effort. 

Stage One: unmitigated failure. 

Which meant that it was time to bring out the big guns, and move on to the second stage of her plan. This one was sure to work. She had a really good feeling about it. 

Her heart fluttered with anticipation at the thought. 

Marinette closed her eyes, rolling over and trying to get comfortable, willing sleep to come so that tomorrow would arrive faster. 

There was no way they’d be able to miss it this time. 

After all, Stage Two: Bikini was designed to make waves. 

-x-

Chapter Text

The next day dawned bright and clear, full of promise and potential. The early morning mist was still lingering—hovering over the still waters of the lake and caressing the shore—when Marinette awoke, a whole hour and fifteen minutes before her alarm was set to go off. 

Feeling remarkably well-rested, she made her way downstairs bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, before either of her parents had even risen for the day.

These were the only two weeks out of the year that Marinette’s parents allowed themselves to sleep in, so she took extra care not to wake them as she moved about the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and setting herself to making something for breakfast. 

As the scent of coffee began to permeate the room, Marinette began to hear rustling coming from her parents’ room. At last, her father emerged, sleep rumpled and bleary-eyed, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. Wordlessly she handed him a cup of coffee, knowing better than to try to engage him in conversation before he’d had the chance to caffeinate himself. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, mumbling something about her being his favourite daughter as he moved past her and toward the door. He loved to have his first coffee of the day on the porch, looking out over the yard and the lakeshore beyond. 

Marinette smiled to herself, continuing to chop vegetables, intent on making some approximation of an omelet. Worst case scenario, it would wind up somewhere in the ballpark of scrambled eggs, which would probably still be edible. 

Key word being probably, she thought to herself, fishing a piece of shell out of the bowl as she began cracking the eggs.   

“Good morning, my darling,” Sabine greeted, coming up to the counter beside her. Her mother, unlike her father, had absolutely no problem with early morning coherency. She didn’t even drink coffee, which Marinette found particularly bizarre for a woman who routinely woke up at four or five in the morning. 

She watched as her mother moved about the kitchen, preparing her tea in the very particular way she always did. No matter how many times Marinette had offered to help or make it for her, Sabine had gently refused, saying there was something therapeutic and almost meditative about her morning tea routine. 

“You’re up early,” her mother said, placing the kettle on the burner and measuring out tea leaves with the skill of someone who was long practiced. 

“Mm,” Marinette hummed, whisking together the eggs, keeping a careful eye on the consistency. Was it possible to overmix them? She wondered. “I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Sabine looked her up and down then, her brow furrowing slightly. “Did you have bad dreams?”

Marinette waved off her concern. “No, no, I slept fine!” She rushed to assure her. “I just woke up wide awake. If anything, I feel great!” 

Sabine smiled, looking relieved. 

“That’s good.”

They continued milling about the kitchen together, an easy silence settling over the room. Until Tom—newly caffeinated and feeling refreshed—reentered boisterously, exclaiming over the both of them, shooing them out of the kitchen so that he could finish up breakfast himself. 

By the time they were sitting down to eat, her father had managed to turn her sad excuse for scrambled eggs into delicious mini-quiches, accompanied by a fresh fruit salad with yogurt and crispy bacon. 

Marinette eyed the food in front of her, fighting the urge to pout even as her mouth watered.

“I was doing just fine, you know.” 

Tom scooped some food onto her plate, whether in an attempt to cajole or distract her she wasn’t sure. “Of course you were, my dear.”

Sabine hid a smile behind her mug, remaining silent. 

Marinette let it go, too hungry—and the delicious-looking spread in front of her too tempting—to bother putting up a token resistance, or to point out their obvious skepticism when it came to her culinary abilities. 

Instead, she stuffed her mouth full of mini-quiche, silently marvelling at how her father managed to make them taste so good, while her parents discussed what they had planned for the day (chores, a trip to the market, and dinner at a restaurant in town later. The usual fare). They asked Marinette the obligatory questions about her plans, where she’d be going, with whom and when, to which she gave a series of vague non-answers, deliberately obfuscating. 

Maybe she’d be going to Adrien’s. Maybe she’d stay home and call Alya. Maybe Adrien would come over; it was really too early to tell. 

Checking the time on her phone, Marinette stood from the table, clearing her empty dishes and heading towards the sink to wash them.

Her mother waved her off before she could get there though, giving her the go-ahead to leave.

Beaming, she kissed both her parents on the cheek before grabbing her backpack and rushing out the door into the sunshine.  

“Make sure you text us to let us know what you’re doing!” Her mother’s voice rang out behind her. 

Marinette turned, catching sight of the dark head of hair poking out the front door. “I will!” She called over her shoulder, already legging it across the lawn, her backpack thumping heavily against her lower back. 

She cut across the side yard, making for the well-travelled path in the woods between her house and the Agrestes’.  

Throwing one last glance over her shoulder to make sure neither of her parents were still watching from the house, Marinette—upon seeing that the coast was clear—made a dive for the thick bushes on the side of the path. 

Ripping open her bag, she hastily began changing, intimately aware that time was of the essence. The last thing she wanted was to be discovered by someone out for their morning walk; a half-naked and deranged teenager, loitering suspiciously in the bushes. Heaven forbid. 

And certainly not before it was even nine a.m. 

She wriggled out of her ratty old cut-offs, letting them drop to the ground. She’d been wearing the same pair every summer for the last few years, and while they were extremely comfortable, they certainly looked worse for the wear, and wouldn’t serve at all to help her when it came to achieving her objectives. Instead, she traded them for a much cuter pair of short shorts that she knew hugged her hips just so, and succeeded in highlighting the length of her legs without being too overt. 

Marinette would know, after all, since she’d made them herself. 

Banishing her cast-off shorts back to the shadowrealm—aka the bottommost corner of her backpack, where hair elastics and old erasers and other forgotten things went to die—Marinette rummaged around until she found what she was looking for.

“A-ha!”

A small, round makeup compact emerged. Marinette brandished it triumphantly. 

She popped it open, inspecting her face, checking to see whether she needed to touch up her lip gloss or her hair.

Everything was still in order, she was pleased to note. 

She straightened, moving to grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head.

A motion she was forced to turn into an aborted flail at the last possible second, when she made direct, aggressive eye contact with one Gabriel Agreste.  

The same Gabriel Agreste who was standing out on his back patio, a mug of something half raised to his mouth, giving her a look that would have felled a lesser person where they stood.

A mix of curiosity, contempt, and disgust, like the look someone might give a bug right before they crushed it under their heel.  

Her eyes widened, a feeling of abject horror rising like a wave, threatening to drown her where she stood. 

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT.

Okay, don’t panic, Marinette thought, doing exactly that as she desperately scrambled for something to say, some kind of excuse. 

I’m pretty sure he can scent fear so whatever you do: Just. Be. Cool. 

“There it is!” She exclaimed, making a show of bending down as she pretended to ‘discover’ something on the ground. 

“Thank goodness I found it! My…uh, thing I was looking for!” She feigned relief, letting out a laugh that was too awkward and far too loud to be believable even to her own ears. 

She fought the urge to kick herself. Or run screaming for the hills. 

For the love of god, woman, please just say something normal, I am literally begging you. Her inner voice pleaded, sounding distinctly like Alya. 

Marinette took a deep breath, the words and the action like a balm to her soul. Normal. She could do that. 

“Good morning, Monsieur Agreste,” she said normally, like an exceptionally normal person. 

“Good morning...” His response was bland, expression neutral yet still managing to convey a deep skepticism. It was practically a neon sign, flashing the words ‘WHAT THE FUCK’ on repeat; clear enough to be seen by every living being within their immediate radius and maybe even from space.   

“Is Adrien up?” She asked, desperate for a subject change and to divert his attention away from the fact that she was still standing in the bushes like a goddamn idiot. 

“I believe he is still sleeping,” Gabriel replied, his expression giving nothing of his thoughts away. 

“Oh,” Marinette slumped, feeling more than a little bit foolish. Here she was, humiliating herself in front of his father and Adrien couldn’t even be counted amongst the waking world yet.  

Her hand twitched, resisting the desire to facepalm. In that case, she was better off coming back later once Adrien had woken up. She should have known to text him beforehand. She shouldn’t have figured he’d be up as early as she was - his family didn’t run a bakery after all, and they’d only just arrived the other day. He was probably still tired from the drive. 

Cursing herself for her thoughtlessness and lack of foresight, Marinette made to turn around and head back the way she came, her proverbial tail between her legs. At least at home she could lick her wounds and recover from this profound humiliation in the peace and privacy of her own bedroom. 

“You may go in and wake him if you’d like.”

Marinette perked up, not daring to believe her ears. Did he just…? 

She looked to Gabriel for confirmation, finding him sipping idly out of his mug, looking bored. 

“It’s about time my son woke up in any event. No use wasting a perfectly good day away with slothfulness.” 

It was decided then. Marinette gave him her best thousand-megawatt smile—which he, of course, did not reciprocate—and grabbed her backpack, hightailing it out of the greenery before he could change his mind. 

She galloped happily the rest of the way around to the front of the house, possessed with the joie-de-vivre that only came to those who had looked death in the face, and at the last moment been spared from the gallows. She felt reinvigorated, alive.

Nothing like a near-death experience to start the day off right.  

She let herself in quietly, hesitant to break the early morning hush that was still settled about the house. 

It really was a beautiful home, she marvelled, taking in the warm wood and high ceilings. From where she stood in the foyer, Marinette could see the dining room off to the right, while straight ahead of her lay a long hallway, stretching from the front entryway all the way back to the great room, where sunlight was pouring in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The hall split off in an intersection about midway down, one side leading toward the kitchen and breakfast room, the other to the wing that contained the master suite. 

Marinette ignored all of this, though, turning instead to the left and heading up the spiral staircase to the second-floor mezzanine. Unable to keep the skip from her step, she turned the corner as she reached the uppermost landing, almost plowing straight over Félix, who had been coming down the hall from the opposite direction.

“Gah!” She jumped backwards, limbs flailing inelegantly. 

Her heart lurched at the unexpected sight of him, dimly aware that the look of surprise on his face must have been mirrored back tenfold on her own. 

“Félix!” 

She took another step back, even as she goggled at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you—”

The expression on Félix’s face quickly shifted to one of alarm though, around the same time that Marinette registered that her foot had not met solid ground, but instead found just empty air beneath it. 

Oh, she thought rather dumbly. I believe I’m about to fall down the stairs. 

-x-

Chapter Text

She took another step back, even as she goggled at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you—”

The expression on Félix’s face quickly shifted to one of alarm though, around the same time that Marinette registered that her foot had not met solid ground, but instead found just empty air beneath it. 

Oh, she thought rather dumbly. I believe I’m about to fall down the stairs.

-x-

“—thEEERE!” She screeched, preparing herself for a world of hurt. 

Tripping or falling to the floor was one thing. Falling down a flight of stairs was much more serious, even by Marinette’s standard of extreme klutziness. 

Great, now I’m gonna have to spend the rest of the summer in full-body traction. How am I ever going to make Félix fall in love with me if the extent of my available movement is blinking once for yes and twice for no?

All of these thoughts flashed through her mind in the milliseconds before impact. 

Dear God: 

Please don’t let me die right now. It would be extremely inconvenient in light of all of the things I still have left to do, including but not limited to the boy in front of me. 

Also my parents would probably be sad. 

Warmest regards, 

Marinette. 

But when the pain never came, she risked opening one eye. 

Félix was staring down at her, his face closer than it had ever been. Up this close, she could see that his eyes were flecked with silver, and she might have even been able to count his individual eyelashes if she’d had enough time and brainpower. 

His hands were a warm band around her waist, keeping her steady and upright, his fingers lightly grazing the bare skin of her back where her shirt had ridden up. 

“Am I dead?” She whispered, unable to believe that she hadn’t died immediately upon impact and ascended straight to heaven. That was the only logical explanation because Félix Agreste couldn’t possibly be standing in front of her, touching her bare skin, looking concerned and almost unfathomably handsome.

The look on his face began slowly shifting to one of annoyance. 

Is he speaking? Oh, I think he’s speaking. Marinette forced herself to tune back into reality, finally registering the words he’d been saying. 

“Are you okay?” He repeated for the nth time, releasing his hold once he was sure she could stand on her own and wasn’t about to do something stupid, like try to throw herself down the staircase again. 

“Yes,” she finally managed, getting her vocal folds to follow some semblance of a working order, even if her voice was almost embarrassingly breathy. 

How humiliating. 

She cleared her throat, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She said, much more clearly this time. 

He shook his head, his tone reproachful. “You need to be more careful when you’re walking. That was very dangerous.”

She ducked her head, properly chastised; the happy signals that her skin had been sending to her brain abating slightly now that he was no longer touching her. 

“But it wasn’t, thanks to you.” She looked up at him through her lashes, biting her lip shyly. 

“Really... Thank you.” She said again, trying to convey as much sincerity as she could in those few words. 

Félix paused.  

“You’re welcome,” he responded, somewhat gruffly, moving past her and toward the stairs. Marinette watched him go, squinting slightly. 

Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but she could have sworn for a second there, right as he passed her, that the back of his neck had looked suspiciously rosy. 

-x- 

Marinette practically ran the rest of the way to Adrien’s room.  

By the time she’d reached his door, she had replayed the events of the past few minutes over enough that she was virtually frothing at the mouth, such was her need to tell someone about it.  

Scrambling up the ladder like some sort of demented monkey creature, she burst through the trapdoor, slamming it behind her. 

The cacophony did absolutely nothing to rouse Adrien, who was wrapped up in his blanket cocoon, dead to the world. 

“Adrien!” She felt jittery with excitement, like she was liable to start bouncing off the walls at any moment. 

The lump of blankets on the bed grumbled, stirring slightly. 

But still, he did not rise. 

“Adrien!” She hissed. “Wake up!”  

“Five more m’nutes.” 

“No more minutes!” She jumped on the bed, jostling him roughly as she sat astride him. 

“Noooo,” he groaned, trying to roll over and pull the blankets over his head. The presence of her legs on either side of his body prevented the motion. Green eyes gazed at her blearily from underneath a mop of unruly blonde hair.

“Mari?” 

To her surprise, he smiled sleepily up at her, his face warm and open. “Am I dreaming right now?” 

It was enough to tug at even the most hardened of heartstrings. 

Adrien Agreste, acclaimed model and certified teen heartthrob, had a serious case of bedhead. 

“Nope, not a dream. Your dad sent me to wake you up.”

Adrien’s face screwed up at the mention of his father. “My...dad?”

Marinette smirked, thinking about how many people would pay good money for a photo of him like he was now, adorably sleep-rumpled. Adrien was lucky she was such a good friend. 

And that she didn’t need the money. 

“Mm, probably not a dream then. If it was, you definitely wouldn’t be talking to me about my father...” He groaned again, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. Marinette felt the vibrations through the layers of fabric between them. It sent a strange thrill through her.

Huh. That was weird.   

She watched him slowly wake up, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. He blinked several times, trying to clear his eyes.

His eyes, which were growing rounder and rounder with every passing minute.  

He gawked up at her, horrified.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was strained. 

“Waking you up, what does it look like?” Adrien glanced down to where she was straddling him, her bare legs bracketing his body. His eyes bulged comically, the whites plainly visible. She made to settle her weight down atop him, intent on making herself comfortable while they spoke.

Instead, she found herself staring up at the ceiling, sprawled at the foot of the bed. 

“Hey! What was that for?” She rose up on her elbows to glare at him. 

Adrien met her glare with one of his own from where he was curled up at the head of the bed, wrapped in a protective blanket shield. The blanket burrito and bedhead combo did a remarkable job of undercutting the ferocity of his scowl. 

“Have you ever heard,” Adrien gritted out, “of this thing called personal space?” 

Marinette huffed, rising to her feet. “Have you ever heard of just asking someone to get off you instead of trying to launch them into outer space?” 

She flounced over to his desk, taking a seat in his fancy computer chair that probably cost more than her entire year’s worth of allowance. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” Adrien eyed her mistrustfully. “You definitely didn’t come all the way over here just to see me.”

“I might have,” she said, feeling a touch defensive at the bitter edge in his voice. 

Adrien gave her an unimpressed look. 

“Okay, so that’s not why I came over, but it’s definitely an added bonus.” She batted her eyelashes at him, trying to butter him up. She did feel slightly bad for giving him the rude wake-up call. Although in her defense she just thought it would be something funny. She had no idea he’d react so extremely. They used to do silly stuff like that all the time when they were kids, but apparently the years had caused Adrien Agreste to lose just the littlest bit of his playful streak. 

The thought filled her with profound sadness. 

But that was why they were friends, Marinette thought to herself with renewed resolve. It was her job to fill his days with as much joy and laughter and light as possible, to remind Adrien of all the good things that the world had to offer, even when things felt especially dark. 

Yet another reason why these summers on the lake were so important. 

“You and I,” she leaned forward, enunciating very deliberately. “Are going swimming.”

“Huh?” Adrien couldn’t have looked more bewildered if he tried. “Swimming?” 

He looked over at his alarm clock, nonplussed. “At nine in the morning?” 

“Never too early to start!” She jumped up, trying to infuse her voice with as much enthusiasm as possible. 

Still he made no move to get up from his bed. 

“Did you even bring a bathing suit?” 

“Oh! Thanks for the reminder.” Marinette began to strip, pulling her t-shirt over her head. 

“AHHHHH STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Adrien cried, throwing his hands up to cover his eyes.

“Relax, you dork, I have a tank top on.” She unzipped her backpack, taking out her towel. “Your father would never forgive me if I compromised your virtue. Heaven forbid it affect your dowry.” 

He peeked at her, one green eye visible through the cracks between his fingers. She held her hands out palms up, as if to say: See? Told you it wasn’t that bad. 

Except, apparently, it was.

Adrien's hands fell to the bed with a heavy thump. 

“What are you wearing?” 

Wait, did his voice just crack?? 

“A top?” She looked down, checking to make sure there wasn’t a huge stain or something horrifically wrong with it. But it looked exactly like it was supposed to, same as when she had put it on that morning. Just a baby pink, flounce-trimmed crop top.  

I thought it would look kind of cute with these shorts. She fretted, feeling increasingly insecure the longer Adrien gawped at her. Maybe it was the wrong call? 

“What’s wrong with my top?” She pressed him for more information. Even if Adrien wasn’t The Boy, he was still A Boy—and a model with a famous fashion designer dad at that—which meant that his reaction would do in a pinch. ”I thought it looked cute.”

If the shirt really was dreadful then she’d be forced to change, and run the risk of jeopardizing her entire plan. 

Which she really, really would rather avoid. 

“Of course it does. You’re wearing it,” he looked away, his ears turning a very telling shade of pink. 

Oh. 

Oooh. 

Adrien thought she looked cute. Marinette felt a suspicious warmth rising in her own cheeks. 

And she’d effectively just strong-armed him into admitting it. 

OH NO WHY IS HE EMBARRASSED?? AND WHY IS IT MAKING ME FEEL EMBARRASSED???? 

Marinette had gotten a reaction all right, and succeeded at reducing them both to stuttering, blushing simpletons in the process. 

Just watching him blush was enough to make her turn bright red, right to the roots of her hair. For a moment she considered abandoning her plan again, not sure how much more of this her poor heart could take. 

Eyes on the prize, girl, eyes on the prize. Definitely-Not-Alya’s voice reminded her.

“ANYWAY,” Marinette said, a touch too loudly for it to be casual, or construed as anything other than the desperate subject change it was. There would be no more talk of things that were even remotely embarrassing. 

She crossed her arms, staring at him pointedly. 

“Do you need me to help you get up?”

To her surprise her question caused Adrien to turn even redder, which she hadn’t believed to be possible until she witnessed it firsthand. 

He whipped the covers over his head, letting out a miserable groan.  

“Can you just...go and wait downstairs or something?" He asked, his voice muffled by the blankets. “I need a minute.”

Marinette shook her head, equal parts amused and exasperated by his antics. Adrien Agreste could be accused of a lot of things, but being a morning person was clearly not one of them. 

“Fine, have it your way. Meet me by the pool in ten, you weirdo.” 

“Nngah.” said the lump on the bed, which she took to be an agreement. 

-x-

Chapter Text

Keeping an eye out on her way downstairs, Marinette was vaguely disappointed that she didn’t run into Félix again as she made her way out onto the patio. 

There was no sign of him anywhere. Or Monsieur Agreste for that matter, who had obviously finished his drink and gone back inside to resume his vacation work schedule. Which, from what Adrien had told her, was exactly like his regular work schedule in terms of hours and amount of work, he just dressed more casually. Knowing Gabriel Agreste, this probably meant choosing not to wear a tie with his custom three-piece suit. Or perhaps even, heaven forbid, removing his jacket (but only if it got too hot).

There is something very wrong with this family, Marinette reflected, not for the first time. 

And it wasn’t just the fact that they chose to install a heated, in-ground pool at their vacation home. 

On a lake. 

Rich people are so weird... Marinette shrugged, brushing the thought off like a pesky fly as she got herself situated on one of the patio chairs. If there was anything she’d learned from growing up fraternizing with the uber-wealthy, it was that money could buy a lot of things. Common sense just wasn’t one of them. 

But hey, Marinette wasn’t above using the follies and foibles of rich people to further her own interests upon occasion. 

She stretched out contentedly, sinking into the remarkably plush lounge chair and sliding her sunglasses down to cover her eyes.

“Ooooh yeah.” 

Sometimes, she acknowledged, there were distinct advantages. 

Marinette lay there, slowly losing track of time as she soaked in the rays of sun. The light was shifting now from midmorning to midday, the temperature climbing along with it. It beat down from overhead, causing sweat to break out along her forehead. She kept an eye on the door though, in case Félix decided to rear his handsome blonde head. 

She had angled her body carefully, splaying herself out in what she hoped was a jaw-droppingly sexy yet somehow effortless looking way. Which was easier said than done, judging by the growing cramp in her right hamstring. 

For this next phase of her plan, the timing was everything. It wouldn’t do to blow it early, just because she was starting to get a little uncomfortable. 

Her leg twinged as a bead of sweat rolled slowly from her temple, creeping towards her ear. 

The dual sensation was not entirely pleasant. 

Okay maybe she was more than a little uncomfortable, she admitted, giving up on the come-hither pose temporarily as she shifted to reach for one of the magazines she’d brought with her. It would at least provide somewhat of a diversion from the heat. 

Along with some other, more practical benefits. She began fanning herself, working up quite a vigorous breeze thanks to the thick, glossy pages. 

There was still no sign of Félix, or Adrien for that matter. 

Where the hell is everyone?

She sat there for what felt like another hour, but realistically couldn’t have been any more than ten minutes, slowly turning into an amorphous pile of goo. 

Behind her sunglasses her gaze remained riveted on the windows, waiting to see any sign of life from the interior of the house. 

A flash of movement caught her eye, right before the patio door began to slide open. 

At last!

Not bothering to wait to see who it was, she scrambled back into position, draping herself across the chair as a blonde head came into view. 

“Hey,” she said lowly, pitching her voice into something she hoped sounded sexy and effortless. 

“Mmpft!”

Adrien grunted in reply, his mouth full of some kind of food. His arms were laden down with pool toys and other miscellaneous objects. He was also dragging something behind him, which Marinette quickly realized was an enormous pool float, shaped like a slice of pizza. 

Evidently interpreting her stare as one of confusion, he attempted to clarify. “Mruhhg?” 

Catching a glimpse of the remnants of food particles in his mouth, she grimaced in distaste. Adrien swallowed, looking a tad sheepish. 

When he spoke this time, his mouth was blissfully clear. 

“Why aren’t you swimming?” He threw pool noodles into the water with reckless abandon, sounding perplexed that she hadn’t already succumb to the heat that was steadily cooking her alive.

“I changed my mind, I’m going to tan first.” She responded, keeping her eyes fixed on the glass doors behind him, to see if Félix was going to come out as well. 

Adrien opened his mouth to speak, but paused at the last second, as though thinking better of it. He fiddled around on his phone for a second.

Finally he shrugged, giving her a look that clearly said, Your loss, and dove into the deliciously cool looking blue water, just as music began to stream out of the speakers placed discretely around the patio.

Marinette watched him, silently stewing in the juices of her own resentment. 

And sweat. 

A lot of sweat. 

She nibbled on her bottom lip, conflicted. 

The water lay before her, crystalline and refreshing and oh-so-tempting. 

She’d give Félix five minutes. If he didn’t appear by then, then she would call it quits. 

It would be a shame to have to scrap her plans and go back to the drawing board, but at least she’d be able to salvage some of her afternoon. Even if it meant having to brand Stage Two a failure before it even had a chance to begin.

And so they waited in silence, Marinette on her lounge chair and Adrien floating on a giant slice of pepperoni pizza, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

The first song finished, transitioning smoothly to the second. Adrien must have put on some kind of playlist. Her head bopped along slightly to the beat. 

Mentally running through the calculations based on the average song length—which was around three minutes and thirty seconds, thank you Google—Marinette figured about four minutes had passed. 

One minute left. 

Her eyes darted back and forth between the doors and the pool, all but counting down the seconds. 

Doors: still closed.  

Pool: sparkling in the sunlight, its blue depths beckoning like a siren song. 

Doors: nothing. Adrien’s elusive bastard of a brother nowhere in sight. 

Pool: heavenly bliss. Relief from her miserable, sweaty existence. 

Her hands twitched, itching to rip her clothes off and dive in. Her iron-clad resolve began to crumble like it was built on a foundation of sand. 

She threw one last desperate look at the doors, only to discover that they were… opening?

Almost unable to believe her eyes, she watched as Félix stepped out into the sunshine, his pale blonde hair gleaming.

“Adrien, Father wanted me to inform you to keep your schedule clear for tomorrow evening. We are expected at the Bourgeois’ for dinner.”

The two brothers shared a look, a lifetime’s worth of disgruntlement and mutual understanding passing between them. 

Adrien tipped his head back with a groan. 

“Seriously?” He griped, pool floaty squeaking beneath him as he sat up. “Father knows how much we hate going on his ‘work dinners.’ It’s just a bunch of people schmoozing with each other even though everyone hates everyone else's guts!”

Félix’s face was impassive, although Marinette didn’t need to be a mind reader to see that he agreed, albeit silently, with his brother’s sentiment. 

“Unfortunately, it was not a request.”

She watched the two as they continued to converse, feeling slightly left out as they discussed who would be in attendance; bringing up people, places, and things that she had no knowledge of and thus couldn’t take part in. The unpleasant sting of exclusion reminded her of when they were children. 

It was not a fond sort of remembrance.

Marinette had spent years playing third-wheel to Adrien and his brother, and she refused to continue to do so now that they were nearly grown and on the precipice of adulthood. 

Luckily she had just the thing that she thought would succeed in getting their—and most importantly Félix’s—attention.  

It was about time that the conversation shifted back to include all three of them. 

Her vague feelings of annoyance—at herself for feeling left out, at Adrien for monopolizing his brother’s attention, at both of them for not making more of an effort to include her when they could see she was sitting right there—gave her the boost of courage she needed to finally initiate Stage Two: Bikini. 

Pretending to ignore them, Marinette rose from her seat, grabbing the hem of her tank top and pulling it over her head in one smooth motion to reveal the bikini top beneath. 

Their conversation faltered almost imperceptibly behind her. 

Balling up her shirt in one hand, Marinette very deliberately did not look in their direction as she turned, slowly sliding off her shorts, letting them fall to the ground. She bent to pick them up, before dropping her clothes onto her chair, every move designed to be the very textbook definition of casual. 

If the conversation had stuttered slightly earlier, it was completely dead now, a resounding silence ringing out.  

Marinette’s only real objective throughout this entire process had been to make Félix realize that he wasn’t the only one who had grown up significantly in the past two years. To force him to recognize that she wasn’t that little girl chasing after he and his brother anymore. Or if she was, the intention behind the chase had very much changed. 

Over the past several weeks, she’d spent many a late night lying awake in bed, daydreaming about this moment and what it might feel like when she finally got there. Marinette had thought that she wanted Félix to give her a second look, maybe marvel a little at her newfound hotness. 

But when she straightened and turned to find both Félix and Adrien staring at her, rendered speechless, she began to wonder whether the ends of her plans ultimately would justify the means. And whether trying to get Félix to seriously consider a relationship with her might potentially do something irreparable to her friendship with both of them.

Or even worse, she thought, panic beginning to set in the longer they remained silent, perhaps she had done something truly irredeemable like accidentally exposing a nipple. 

Although her résumé as a seductress was admittedly woefully lacking in the experience department, Marinette knew that second-guessing herself by glancing down to check for a wardrobe malfunction now would be tantamount to fumbling the ball, seconds away from making the game-winning goal.

It would be unforgivable. 

Instead of listening to her instincts, which were screaming at her to either cover up or jump headfirst into the pool and surrender to a slow, watery death splash, Marinette cocked a hip, hoping the gesture landed somewhere in the realm of sexy nonchalance.

That’s right, boys. This is my hot girl summer and you’re just living in it. 

“Félix, so nice of you to join us,” she all but purred as both of the Agreste boys kept gaping at her. Félix with both brows raised, Adrien with his mouth hanging open, more obviously thrown than his brother. “I hope you brought your bathing suit.”

His composure was returning to him now. She could see it in the smoothing of his brow, in the way he blinked before giving her a slow once-over. 

She repressed the urge to shiver, feeling the weight of his gaze dragging across her bare skin.

Is this……. flirting????? 

“I appear to be overdressed for the occasion.”  He quirked a brow, a subtle acknowledgement of her current state of (un)dress.

Oh my god we are TOTALLY flirting. Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming. 

Marinette giggled, lightly pushing at his shoulder, as though he’d just made some kind of hilarious joke. “No biggie... I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Félix gave her a smirk, and Marinette nearly became another unfortunate victim of spontaneous human combustion. 

Or she would have, if Adrien hadn’t chosen that exact moment to unleash the most massive and destructive cannonball she had ever seen, drenching both she and Félix where they stood. 

“AGH!”

They both leapt apart, turning simultaneous death glares in Adrien’s direction. 

His green eyes were wide and guileless as he blinked up at them, taking in their sodden appearances with a look of faux-innocence.

“Whoopsies.” 

He did not look or sound even remotely apologetic.  

SO MUCH FOR STAYING OUT OF MY WAY, Marinette wanted to screech, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. Félix examined his drenched clothes, his lip curling ever so slightly in disgust.

Lobbing a very rude hand gesture at his brother, he retreated in the direction of the house, his shoes squelching comically with every step. 

Oh no, he’s leaving! 

Marinette searched for something, anything to say that might keep him there for even five seconds longer. Now that she’d had a taste of his attention, she couldn’t help but greedily want more more more. 

“Are you coming to the party tonight?” She blurted out, getting a little thrill when he paused in his step. 

But when he turned to face her, she could tell from the distant look in his eye—as if he were looking not at, but through her—that her moment in the sun had passed. 

“Who knows,” he replied, not the least bit cryptically, before disappearing into the house.

The door closed with a final sounding thunk behind him.

“Was it something I did?” 

She whirled on Adrien with a growl, alight with righteous fury.

The little bastard had the audacity to be glib, at a time like this? 

“YOU ABSOLUTE NUMPTY!” She hollered, descending on him like an avenging angel, set on doling out her divine retribution. “You drenched him, that’s what you did!”

“It’s not my fault he’s such a wet blanket.” In anticipation of her reaction, Adrien began frantically trying to paddle away, once again ensconced on his pizza throne. 

He had the audacity to ruin her fun, and now he was making PUNS??? 

With a shriek of impotent rage, she lunged for him. 

Diving into the pool, she came up underneath his floaty, sending him flying into the water before he even had a chance to see her coming.  Grabbing the nearest object to her, she began bludgeoning him with it almost as soon as he surfaced. 

“What part of that was you staying out of my way?” Every word was punctuated with a meaty thwack from one of the pool noodles. “Huh? HUH?”

Trying to swim away and shield his head at the same time, Adrien was unable to do much more than laugh hysterically, even as he pleaded for mercy.

“I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry! Uncle! Uncle!” 

Not that she had any intention of granting him a reprieve so easily. 

Marinette’s eyes narrowed as she delivered another particularly satisfying thump, this one sending him sprawling face-first into the water with an impressive splash. 

Let him plead for a mercy that would not come.  

-x-

Chapter Text

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that rich teenagers in possession of idle time and an abundance of hormones, must be in want of a good time. 

And there were plenty of good times to be had on the lake. At all hours of the day, seven days a week.

It would continue to be as such for the majority of the summer, until the idle elite grew bored of the monotony of country life, and set out for other parties in bigger cities all over the world. Then all of the beautiful villas would be packed up and shut for the winter, suspended in time, frozen in deep sleep. 

Until, like migratory birds, their wealthy owners returned to cause a ruckus.

And shit all over everything in the process.  

But Fridays… Fridays were special.

Because every Friday, like clockwork, there would be A Party. There were no invitations, no RSVP-ing, no guest list. Word didn’t even have to go around. It was as though, in some unspoken and unwritten rule, the wealthy denizens of the lake had unanimously decided: today, someone would be throwing a party. 

And there would be much debauchery to be had. 

In a lot of ways, it was comforting in its consistency. Marinette had only ever been to a handful of these soirées, having decided early on that they were very much not her scene. They were occasionally fun, often messy and always left her feeling exhausted, wondering why she had bothered to go in the first place. She really only ever went in the company of one or both of the Agreste brothers. 

In fact, apart from Félix and Adrien, she didn’t even know that many people that lived on the lake. And of those she did know, she liked even less of them. She found them to be predominantly self-absorbed, vapid, gossipy, and judgemental of everyone and everything around them. 

In other words, eerily reminiscent of a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed, self-proclaimed HBIC of le Grand Paris. 

And Marinette could, off the top of her head, list hundreds of things she would prefer to being trapped in a room with dozens of carbon copies of Chloe Bourgeois.

Like getting a root canal with no anaesthetic, or driving one of her sewing needles into her nail beds. 

And yet here she was, making her way up to an enormous house that stood lit like a beacon of opulence at the crest of an egregiously long driveway. She’d had her dad drop her off at the bottom of the hill, choosing instead to walk the long way rather than have him drive up.  

Besides, she thought, cutting across the immaculately tended lawn, she was rather enjoying the walk; the feel of the grass a pleasant tickle through the gaps in her strappy sandals.   

She had no idea whose house it was; Adrien had simply texted her the address, telling her that it was supposed to start around seven-thirty. Which, if Marinette had learned anything from Chloe Bourgeois, meant an eight o’clock start time at the earliest. She idly wondered whether Chloe would be gracing them all with her presence tonight. 

Remembering Félix’s comment from earlier by the pool, Marinette grimaced, admitting to herself that there was a very distinct possibility. 

She tried to look on the bright side. At least that meant she’d know one other person there, bringing the total number of friendly faces up to three. 

Well, maybe more like two and a half. 

Still, she supposed, better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.

From the sound of things, it seemed like the party was already in full swing. Marinette checked her phone. Almost eight-thirty on the dot. 

She didn’t bother knocking on the front door or ringing the doorbell, knowing that neither would be audible over the bass beat she had heard pulsing from halfway down the driveway. Firing off a quick message to let Adrien know she’d arrived, Marinette opened the door, letting herself in. 

Inside it was dimly lit, the crush of bodies almost overwhelming even in the entryway. Cursing her short stature, she craned her neck, searching.

Ugh, I can’t see shit from here. 

Pushing her way blindly through the heavily perfumed masses, Marinette tried to find a less crowded spot to get her bearings, all the while keeping an eye out for the glint of pale hair. People tended to gravitate to kitchens and seating areas at these things, so she knew her best bet was to avoid those areas for now, at least until she could get the lay of the land. Or, better yet, find someone she knew. 

Spotting a side room off the foyer, one that appeared to be blissfully less crowded, Marinette made a bee-line for it. She entered, heaving a sigh of relief just as her eye caught on something in the far corner.   

A flash of blonde. 

There! Her head snapped around, doing a double-take. 

A couple were cozied up on a window seat, half-hidden by the sheer, floor-length curtains. The taller of the two—who was in fact blonde, judging by the messy strands she could just make out through the gaps in the fabric—pressed the smaller dark-haired figure into the bench, capturing their lips in what appeared to be a deep, passionate kiss.  

Long blonde hair fell forward, obscuring what little of their faces that had previously been in view. 

So that’s what the flash was, the realization floated unsolicited from some distant corner of her brain as Marinette watched, transfixed. 

The unknown blonde did bear somewhat of a passing resemblance to the Agreste brothers, at least in terms of build and colouring. But both of those could be attributed to coincidence, or the lighting, which was quite dim. 

And even with a designer’s eye, it was fairly difficult to gauge how tall someone was when they were effectively horizontal. Especially when their limbs were tangled quite intimately with someone else’s.  

The figure on the bottom arched upward, threading their hands through light hair, pulling. 

Someone moaned. 

Marinette looked away quickly, feeling like a voyeur for intruding on their private moment. Whoever this person was, it was becoming increasingly clear they were not who she was looking for, regardless of any passing resemblance. Neither Félix nor Adrien would ever allow themselves to be caught in such a compromising position. 

Not if it meant running the risk of word ever getting back to their father.  

Because, although there was a certain impunity and discretion that came from partying in these circles, Marinette was hyper-aware of the fact that people talk. One of his sons drunkenly macking on some girl in a dark corner of a party? That little tidbit would surely reach Gabriel Agreste’s ears in no time flat.  

Adrien often joked that his father was like a mob boss: he had eyes and ears everywhere. Marinette was inclined to believe that assessment. The man was wealthy, overprotective, and paranoid to a fault. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had both of his children microchipped, and employed someone whose sole job was to track their locations twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year.

If it wasn’t batshit crazy, it would almost have been endearing how much he cared. Gabriel Agreste: a kingpin of the fashion industry, and notorious helicopter parent. 

And no helicopter parent worth their snuff wouldn’t find out if their beloved child was found publicly trying to swallow someone else’s tongue.

Casting her eyes about, Marinette realized with a growing sense of horror that the two weren’t the only couple who had come in here with face-sucking intentions. The few people that were in this room all seemed to be engaged in various states of embracing, some even more heated than the couple by the window. 

Marinette flushed in mortification, quickly making a break for the exit. 

Note to self: AVOID SIDE ROOM AT. ALL. COSTS. 

-x- 

Her mind still occupied with what she had seen, Marinette wandered around in a daze, walking aimlessly from room to room.

Everywhere she went, she found people dressed up in their party clothes, strutting about like brightly coloured birds; all intent on showing off their plumage to the best advantage, to elicit feelings of envy or attraction.

They flitted around as though in an elaborate dance, never settling too long in one place before they were on to the next, working the room the way only the sons and daughters of the elite could. As though they were born knowing the steps, and doing it was as easy as breathing. 

From an outside perspective, it was almost impressive.

On the inside however… 

Marinette knew that if she overheard one more conversation between simpering sycophants, she was going to explode. 

These people couldn’t hate each other more if they tried!!

“Is there a single group of people in this room who genuinely like one another?” She muttered under her breath, sucking back the rest of her drink. She’d picked it up at some point in her wandering, when she’d stumbled across the kitchen. 

She scanned the room for somewhere to dispose of her empty soda can.

But instead of a trash bin, she found the back of a blonde head, attached to the tall frame of one Félix Agreste. 

FINALLY!

Thank you God and also Jesus. 

Her eyes locking on her target, Marinette made her way over with the unwavering intent of a heat-seeking missile, ignoring any indignant cries that rang out from behind her. 

It wasn’t her fault if their kidneys just happened to meet the business end of her elbows. They were standing in the way, after all. 

Collateral damage, she shrugged, never taking her eyes off the prize. 

As the crowd began to thin, she caught sight of a few more details that she hadn’t noticed before. He was standing with his back to her, talking to a group of guys who she would classify as, if not his friends, then at least individuals he was on good terms with. She recognized a few of them, though couldn’t put any names to faces. She knew they were all around the same age though, recently graduated and set to head off to university in the fall. 

She felt their eyes on her as she sidled up to him, praying they wouldn’t blow her cover before she had a chance to make her move. Feeling a little bold now that the element of surprise was on her side, she slipped an arm around his waist, sliding as close as she dared, praying silently that he wouldn’t do something embarrassing like shriek in horror or try to shake her off like a bad case of the fleas. 

To her surprise and delight, he made no move to do anything of the sort. In fact, rather than pushing her away, he did the opposite—wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close against his side. For the second time in as many days, she was hugging Félix Agreste. And he was, seemingly, reciprocating her touch. 

Of his own free will! 

Marinette closed her eyes, leaning her head against him slightly as she breathed in deeply. He was wearing some kind of cologne, a warm, musky scent with just a hint of spice. 

Handsome, well-dressed AND he smells incredible. Could he be any more perfect?

“I see you guys finally decided to make it official, huh?” One of his friends said, his tone knowing. “It’s about time. You’ve been inseparable since you were kids! We even had a bet going on it at one point.” 

Félix laughed in response, his chest rumbling pleasantly under her ear. 

Wait a minute. 

Félix didn’t laugh. He smirked and very occasionally, when he was surprised or found something to be particularly humorous, he might let out a singular puff of air from his nose. And even then, that was exceedingly rare. 

She had never, in all her years of hanging around him, once heard him laugh. 

Which could only mean that she wasn’t cuddling up to Félix... 

She heard the vibration of the words in his chest from where she was still pressed up against him. “Oh? And which way were you betting?” 

She stiffened, her eyes shooting open in alarm.

...She was cuddling up to Adrien!

-x-

Chapter Text

Marinette, like most people might do upon realizing that they had inadvertently attempted to put the moves on the wrong boy—in front of a room full of witnesses—quickly chose what she deemed to be the smoothest course of action available, and did what any sensible individual would do in her situation: 

Absolutely. 

Nothing. 

She froze, rooted to the spot as she listened to Adrien (!!!!!!) and Félix’s friends conversing lightly above her head, the details of which were completely escaping her as she grappled with the reality of the predicament she now found herself in. 

Her immediate response had been to throw herself bodily away from Adrien, and run screaming for the hills. But that was impractical for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that she didn’t want to embarrass him (or herself) in front of everyone. 

There was also the matter of Adrien’s arm, which was still around her, keeping her firmly in place. 

Finally, she heard Adrien make some excuse or another about needing a drink and felt him steering her out of the room. He leaned down, whispering in her ear as they walked. 

“Scale of one to ten, how close are you to a complete meltdown?” 

“Yes.” Said Marinette’s brain. 

Her traitorous mouth had other plans though, letting out something more along the lines of “Mmnmguh.” 

They did an about-face, no longer heading in the direction of where she knew the kitchen to be, but instead to the front door. 

“Where are we going?” Her brain tried again. She managed to get her mouth around the words this time, and while not succeeding a hundred percent, it at least landed in the ballpark of something moderately intelligible. Adrien’s hold tightened almost imperceptibly. 

“I think we could both use some air, don’t you?” 

Probably in an effort not to get separated, he kept his arm around her until they had made it safely out of the house, and onto the cool grass. 

The stars were coming out now, winking down at them coyly from millions of lightyears away. Marinette wished she were out there with them, floating peacefully in the void, instead of being forced to stare the consequences of her actions in the face. 

Who happened to be currently giving her a once over, a line drawn between his brows.  

She gazed at him in return, trying to figure out just how the hell it was she had mistaken Adrien for his brother in the first place. She took in his appearance, eyes trailing from his dark jeans and crisp dress shirt—from this season’s Gabriel line, no doubt—to the top of his head and his hair.

Marinette squinted. 

Had he... combed it, perhaps? It didn’t look as floofy as it normally did, lying a little bit smoother, a bit flatter than she was used to seeing it. From up close, there was no way in hell anyone could ever mistake Adrien for Félix. But with the dark clothes he was wearing, the different hairstyle… the resemblance was there. 

And he had grown, standing as tall—if not taller—than Félix’s friends, some of whom were nearly two years older than him. 

Adrien was growing up, she was startled to realize. 

And as he gazed down at her in concern, his green eyes glittering, bathed in the glow cast from the house’s uplights, Marinette was also startled to discover something else. 

Adrien was very, very attractive.

And not just in the ‘been modeling for years,’ and ‘it pretty much comes with the territory of being a professionally beautiful person’ kind of way. 

But in the oh wow he’s pretty, starry-eyed kind of way.  

Marinette had known that Adrien was handsome. Just like she knew that the earth rotated around the sun, or that the sun rose in the east and set in the west. It was an incontrovertible fact of life. 

She just hadn’t known, up until that moment, that it was something that might have an actual impact on her. 

Am I...attracted? 

To Adrien???

They gazed at each other, each lost in their own thoughts. Marinette knew she had to break this strange tension that had fallen over them, before it suffocated her. 

“You changed your hair.” They said, in near-perfect unison. 

They blinked at each other, startled to hear their own words echoed by someone else’s mouth. 

Marinette reached up, tugging at one of her curls self-consciously, hyper-aware of her appearance in a way she hadn’t been a few moments prior. It had taken her longer than she expected to get it to fall exactly the way she wanted to, which was why she’d told Adrien to head to the party without her and asked her dad to drive her instead. 

Adrien’s hand twitched, as if he were fighting the urge to fidget as well. 

“It looks nice.” They both said, their faces screwing up in disbelief as it happened again.  

Once was slightly weird, a freak coincidence. 

But twice?

Twice was so absurd that they both cracked up almost immediately. 

“You should—have seen—the look on—your face!” Adrien clutched at his sides, gasping out the words through uncontrollable bouts of laughter. 

Marinette was no better off, in stitches every time she so much as looked in his direction. “I can tell you yours wasn’t much better!”

She tried to do some approximation of it, which ignited a fresh round of laughter, causing them to collapse anew. At this point, they were both doubled over on the lawn, only just managing to keep themselves upright. Marinette knew her eye makeup was probably ruined, but she couldn’t be damned. She’d fix it later when they went back inside. For now she was content to just enjoy the moment. 

Suddenly, she was struck by a thought. 

“Oh no,” she gasped. “They’re gonna think we’re dating!”

Adrien straightened, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “What?”

“Félix’s friends!” She explained, her sense of urgency rising. “They said something about us dating and neither of us corrected them. What if it gets back to Kagami?” 

The last traces of warmth vanished from his face at the mention of his girlfriend. 

“Oh,” was all he said. 

She whirled in place, her sandals skidding on the lawn. “I have to go in there and tell them!” 

Adrien grabbed her arm, stopping her before she could make her way to the door.

“Marinette, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not!” She tugged herself free. “I’d feel terrible if Kagami got the wrong idea! I’m sure someone here knows her, and you know how these people talk, it’s almost certain that—”

“Marinette,” he interrupted her, this time almost sharply. “I said it was fine.”

His insistence gave her pause. She tried to read his facial expression, but he remained aloof. 

“Okay,” she said slowly. “If you’re sure?” 

“I am.” His tone brokered no argument, and Marinette—somewhat reluctantly—let the matter drop. 

As if in some unspoken agreement, they started wandering back toward the house.  

“How is she, by the way? Kagami.” Maybe the more she reminded herself that Adrien was, in fact, quite happily dating someone—and thus already spoken for—the easier it would be to ignore how good-looking she might suddenly be finding him. Or the butterfly wings she felt beating in her stomach every time she caught a whiff of his cologne. 

“She’s fine.” When he made no move to elaborate, she gave him a sidelong look, her brow furrowing. Why he wasn’t being more forthcoming with information, Marinette had no idea. 

Still, she pressed on, not content to let the subject drop quite yet. 

“You guys have been dating for almost a year, right? I’m surprised she didn’t come with you this summer. Did you invite her?”

Adrien avoided her eye, his silence speaking volumes. She frowned. 

“Adrien Agreste! Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t even bother to invite your girlfriend to come with you on vacation? Even for a weekend?” Marinette put her hands on her hips. “Is she busy?” 

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, mumbling. “Dunno.” 

“Well if she isn’t, maybe she should come and stay with you for a few days! We could take her around the lake, show her some of our favourite spots. It could be fun!” She said, warming to the idea. Although she’d never met Kagami in person, Adrien had always spoken highly of her. Over the last year he’d sent her pictures of the two of them, happily eating ice cream or looking triumphant after some fencing match or another. 

Marinette had remarked at the time that they looked disgustingly cute together. 

The more she considered it, having Kagami there might be exactly what she needed. Not only to serve as a reminder that her relationship with Adrien was STRICTLY PLATONIC (!) and set to remain that way, but to also—if Marinette managed to play her cards right and stick to her timeline of events—be the fourth they would need to eventually go on double dates.  

She tried to imagine the four of them enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner together. Or strolling along the boardwalk in the old part of town, she and Félix walking hand in hand, Adrien and Kagami trailing behind them. 

Something about the image struck her as inexplicably incongruous, like the twang of an out-of-tune piano key. 

Marinette brushed it off, moving to head through the door when Adrien held it open for her. 

The throng in the foyer had thinned considerably, which made it that much easier for Chloe to spot them. Although it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she had most likely been lying in wait, judging by the way she was immediately in motion the moment they crossed over the threshold. 

With the attitude of a conquering queen—or, better yet, an empress—Chloe Bourgeois cut a swathe through the crowd of partygoers, flouncing across the marble floors with the ease of someone who had been doing it their entire life.  

Her blue eyes alighted upon Adrien with a fevered intensity, bypassing Marinette entirely as she descended in a cloud of expensive perfume and meticulously styled blonde hair.

“Adrikins!” Chloe cooed, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!“ 

Her voice rang with an unpleasant shrillness, seeming to burrow directly into Marinette’s brain. 

CHLOE used SONIC DRILL!

It’s super effective! 

Marinette grimaced, rubbing at her left ear, wondering when Chloe had added disorienting sound attacks to her arsenal. 

Chloe glomped on to Adrien, who bore a look of long-suffering patience. 

Ah, Saint Adrien was making his reappearance at last, Marinette noted with some amusement, watching as he donned the mantle of noble martyrdom required to deal with Chloe’s attention. 

“Hi Chloe...” He gave her a strained smile, making a subtle attempt to dislodge her grip. She clung on tighter in response, like a burr to a dog’s tail, forcing him to abandon the endeavour.    

“I was beginning to worry! Someone mentioned that they’d seen you around earlier, but when I couldn’t find you, I started to think you’d left without even coming to see me! Should have figured you’d be with her.” She pulled back and met Marinette’s eye. 

“Dupain-Cheng.” Chloe greeted her stiffly, a much more tepid and lacklustre response. From Chloe, this kind of greeting would have almost passed for civil, were it not for the way she spoke through gritted teeth.

“Chloe.” Marinette refrained from rolling her eyes. 

Satisfied that she’d done the absolute bare minimum required of her and played at civility, the blonde turned her attention back to Adrien, intent on ignoring Marinette completely. It looked like she was doing everything in her power not to pull her usual routine and say something disparaging, most likely because she knew that it would bother Adrien.

Adrien was well aware that Chloe and Marinette had what could, at best, be classified as a tolerance for one another. They only put up with each other's presence due to the fact that they were both friends with Adrien, and he hated it when they fought.

And it just so happened that not upsetting Adrien seemed to be the one interest they had in common. 

Marinette knew that Chloe only put up with her because she recognized how important Marinette’s friendship was to Adrien. It also helped that Adrien had made it clear that if she pushed too hard, he would choose Marinette over her in a heartbeat. Marinette, in turn, tolerated Chloe’s presence because she knew how hard it was for Adrien to make friends, and she believed, deep down, that Chloe most likely had Adrien’s best interests at heart. 

Chloe leaned in, kissing both of Adrien’s cheeks just a bit too affectionately. Marinette very deliberately did not give in to the temptation to clench her jaw. 

Very, very deep down…  

Adrien had remarked once that theirs was the friendship equivalent of the cold war, with Chloe on one side and Marinette on the other, fingers constantly hovering over the red button, ready to launch missiles the moment they felt someone had stepped over the line. Which left poor Adrien in the middle to suffer from the nuclear fallout. 

And so, Marinette endured Chloe glomming onto Adrien, invading his personal space, trusting that he’d figure a way out of it if he was really uncomfortable. He was a big boy, he could take care of himself. 

It also left her conveniently free to scan the room, on the hunt for a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed target of her own. 

She’d always joked that Félix was the only other person to rival Gabriel Agreste for elusiveness, but this was starting to get ridiculous. She’d been here for almost two hours now, judging by the hour displayed on her phone screen, and had seen neither hide nor hair of him. 

She turned to the only other person there who might possess more intel than she currently did. But before she could get a word out, Chloe steamrolled her, once again taking the reins and steering the conversation in the direction she thought most suitable. 

Which as it turned out also pertained to intel Marinette didn’t happen to possess. 

“So I hear you’re a free agent again? Finally tired of slumming it with the Ice Queen, huh?” 

Marinette’s head snapped around to look at Adrien. He avoided her eye. 

“What?” She blurted, unable to stop the words from bursting forth. “A free agent?”

Chloe raised a single, meticulously-groomed eyebrow, her eyes lighting up with a malicious sort of joy. 

“What’s this…? I finally know something before the Great and Wonderful Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” She gloated, her blue eyes darting back and forth between the two of them with barely repressed glee. 

“Yes, Adrikins and that girl” Chloe spat, her nose wrinkling, “broke up over a month ago now. It was all over social media. Do you live under a rock or something?” 

Gobsmacked, Marinette could only gape in response. 

-x-

Chapter Text

“Can’t say I’m sad to hear you gave what’s-her-face the boot though. I, for one, found her to be quite full of herself.” Chloe said to Adrien, tossing her sleek blonde ponytail expertly over one shoulder. 

Marinette had to admire the fact that she didn’t play at fake sympathy the way most people would have under the circumstances. Chloe told it like it was, one hundred percent of the time. The problem was that it was one hundred percent of the time, regardless of whether it had been solicited or not.

Like now, for instance. 

They… broke up? But…? Her face slack, Marinette felt herself floundering for something to say, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

Adrien, when he wasn’t trying to dismember Chloe with the laser beams he was shooting out of his eyeballs, was gazing at her beseechingly, trying to communicate a wordless message. There was something complicated in his look; guilt over not telling her, perhaps. Anger at Chloe for spilling the beans. A bit of panic as well.

But no sadness, at least as far as she could see, which Marinette found to be a bit odd. She would have thought that ending a nearly year-long relationship would have had him more down in the dumps. But Adrien had been totally normal over the past two days, revealing no hint of any inner turmoil. 

When it came to Adrien though, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He was a master at bottling up his feelings, shoving them down so deep inside himself that they often remained a mystery, even to him. The worrisome thing was what would happen when the bottle inevitably became full.

And, perhaps most worrisome of all, was the issue of why he had felt the need to hide the truth from her in the first place. 

“Chloe,” he hissed. “I would rather not talk about this right now.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Marinette’s eyes bored into his, willing him to explain, unable to give voice to the question she could feel burning at the tip of her tongue.  

Why did you lie?

Chloe, obviously, was overjoyed to finally have some kind of advantage when it came to Adrien. Because, while she could claim to be Adrien's friend, the title of best friend was reserved solely for Marinette; a fact that Marinette knew drove Chloe absolutely crazy.

Which was why she was always looking for something to lord over Marinette’s head. And this time she’d struck it big. 

“She really didn’t know?” Chloe’s head went back and forth, first to Adrien and then to Marinette. Her eyes were practically sparkling, basking in the schadenfreude. “You really didn’t know!” 

She felt puzzled and a bit hurt. She was supposed to be his best friend, after all. And best friends were supposed to know these kinds of things about one another. 

A new thought hit her like a bucket of cold water. Oh god, she’d been telling him to invite Kagami down for the weekend not even five minutes ago, practically raking him across the coals for his reluctance and all but accusing him of being a bad boyfriend. When all the while, Adrien could very well have been nursing a broken heart!

Marinette slumped, feeling like a complete and total piece of shit. She stared at the ground, willing a hole to open in the smooth marble. Preferably one that was big enough to swallow her whole.  

She heard Chloe let out an indignant squawk, seconds before she felt Adrien’s hand land on her shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“Hey,” Adrien said lowly, ducking his head and trying to catch her eye. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” His hand trailed down her arm, settling loosely around her wrist. 

Tugging to get her to follow, Adrien guided her in the direction of the back of the house, evidently in search of some private corner where they could have the conversation they both knew needed to happen. 

Not only had he not mentioned that he and Kagami had called it quits—and apparently quite a while ago, if what Chloe had said was to be believed—but perhaps most grievous of all, Adrien lied about it. And he’d allowed her to make an ass of herself in the process. 

All Marinette wanted to know was why. Why hadn’t he told her?

She felt the sting of hurt again, the betrayal leaving her achy and hollow in its wake. 

They turned the corner, finding an alcove that was relatively removed and thankfully free of people. She stared up into his face, so achingly familiar, and yet so different than she remembered.  

After all, the Adrien of her memories had never lied or kept things from her. 

“So...” He shifted his weight, pausing meaningfully. She took in the way he was hunched in on himself, his shoulders scrunched up to his ears. It was clear from his posture that Adrien was fully expecting her to let him have it. 

Which actually did more to diffuse the simmering of her low-lying anger than anything he might have said in his own defense. 

She blew out her cheeks, exhaling noisily. 

“So… You and Kagami, huh?” She eyed him. “When did that happen?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Technically? Just before summer vacation started. But like Chloe mentioned, people had been speculating for a while…” His face twisted.

Marinette winced as a pang of sympathy shot through her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like, trying to manage and maintain a relationship in the public eye. From everything she’d seen and understood, relationships were hard enough when there were just two people involved. Having the spotlight fixed on them, knowing that the eyes of thousands—if not millions—of people were constantly dissecting their every move or misstep, both on social media and in real life, sounded hellish. 

“Did you break up with her or…?” Her voice trailed off. Adrien let out a laugh, the sound bereft of any amusement. 

“No, she dumped me. She said we ‘wanted different things.’” 

The set of his mouth was rueful as he gave her a smile that was a little too bright, a little too brittle at the edges for it to be fully believable.

Adrien had never been very forthcoming with details about his relationship. Everything Marinette knew was pretty much common knowledge, pieced together from what she’d seen online. As far as she could tell, the two had started seeing each other at some point around the end of last summer. But she didn’t know when they’d officially started dating, or how they’d even met. And now that they’d called it quits, she was willing to bet Adrien would be even less inclined to discuss anything related to his ex-girlfriend and their relationship. 

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for—not having been there for him as his friend? The fact that he felt like he couldn’t share these things with her, even though she was his best friend? All she knew was that for some reason she felt guilty and like she owed him as much. 

Adrien blinked, off-kilter in the face of her apology. “Wha—?”

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that. And that I gave you shit about it earlier. I should have known there was something more to it… God, some friend I am!” She should have given him more credit. He had every right to be cagey when it came to his private life. He was probably so used to people foaming at the mouth for any scrap of information that he’d grown accustomed to keeping his cards close to his chest. Marinette couldn’t fault him for that. She probably would have done the exact same thing were she in his position.

Especially if she were nursing a broken heart, which she was increasingly beginning to suspect Adrien might be. Maybe part of the reason why he hadn’t told her was that he simply wasn’t ready to talk about it yet; the wound still too fresh and painful to even begin prodding at. 

She resolved to let the subject drop, content to wait it out and give him some time to heal. They could have that conversation whenever he was ready.

This time, she vowed, if he reached out she would be there. 

She slid her arms around him, standing on her tiptoes. “I really am sorry.” She told him again, hugging him tightly. “And I want you to know that I’m always here to talk, if you want to.”  

Adrien didn’t respond. But his arms did rise to circle her waist. 

After a moment she made to pull back, but Adrien’s hold didn’t loosen. 

“I’m not done forgiving you yet.” His tone was light, but the way he kept her pressed against him, squeezing just a little too tightly for it to be casual, spoke volumes. 

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, Marinette patted his back lightly. 

At last he let her go, looking somehow lighter than he had moments before, as if an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

“Shall we rejoin the festivities?” He asked, offering her his arm with a flourish. 

“Probably should. Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about what we were doing.” 

He waggled his eyebrows at her statement, a teasing light entering his eye. “What, don’t want to be found canoodling in a dark corner with me? Too good for me now, is that it?” 

She snorted. “Hardly. More concerned that your father would probably have me publicly hanged if we were.” 

“I don’t know,” Adrien’s tone was measured, thoughtful. “He seems more the type to favour a silent kill. Assassination style. Single slice to the jugular.” He drew a finger across his throat, oh-so helpfully demonstrating. 

“Or a slow and painful death by poisoning. Either way, I’d recommend you sleep with one eye open just in case. And maybe have someone taste your food for you.”

He winked. 

Marinette could only goggle at him. 

I know he’s only joking but… why does it sound like he’s genuinely devoted a considerable amount of time and effort to considering the possible ways his father might have someone murdered? 

Her mouth opened, before abruptly closing with a snap. 

You know what? On second thought, I’d rather not know. Some questions are better left unanswered.  

She threw her head back, letting out a loud laugh at the absurdity of it all, while Adrien looked on, incredibly pleased with himself. Now that they had arrived back in the main area of the house, the sound drew a couple of odd looks. But people quickly went back to their business, huddled in groups around seating areas and along the walls, speaking in hushed voices as they passed.

Marinette felt a prickle of unease. Some level of tittering or gossip was to be expected at these sorts of events, but this seemed excessive, even for the first big party of the year. She was starting to get the distinct impression that she and Adrien had missed out on some sort of major scoop in the time they had been gone. 

Curious, Marinette strained her ears, trying in vain to make sense of the bits and pieces she was picking up over the music. 

Voices filtered in and out.

“Can you believe…?”

“—him, of all people!” 

“—was telling me they got caught—the spare bedroom—”  

As she and Adrien made their way to the living room, where most of the partygoers seemed to be congregating, she was able to decipher a bit more, making some sense of the whispering.  

It looked like some couple had gotten caught doing something naughty, maybe even going so far as getting down and dirty in one of the many spare bedrooms. Nothing new for one of these parties, she mused, her curiosity abating significantly now that she knew it was just classic rich people party drama. 

This is what happens when people have too much alcohol, money, and time on their hands... She shook her head, looking to Adrien beside her, interested to see what he made of the brouhaha. 

Only to find him staring forward, his eyes fixed in horror at something above her head. 

All of a sudden Marinette found herself facing back the way they’d come, Adrien rapidly steering her by the shoulders.

“What the—?” She tried to get a look at his expression, puzzled by the unexpected about-face. But Adrien kept directing her forward, his grip firm and unyielding. “Why are we going this way? I thought you wanted to join the party.” 

“Changed my mind.” He said, seemingly doing his damnedest to hustle them out of the room as quickly as possible. She dug her heels in, bringing them to a full stop. 

“Well, I didn’t! I happen to want to check out the living room.” Mostly to see if Félix was still there, although Marinette didn’t feel particularly inclined to offer that information up at the moment, knowing without question that Adrien was not eager to play wingman for her when it came to his brother. He’d probably only push her more swiftly in the opposite direction if he caught wind of her intentions. 

Nevertheless, the living room was the only room she had yet to check, which meant that Félix had to be in there. Unless he’d already gone home...   

She slipped out of Adrien’s grasp, darting under his arm before he could make another grab for her. Maybe that growth spurt of his had other advantages after all. He may be taller, but she was nimble and quicker, able to slip in and out of the crowd with more ease. 

Catching sight of a gap ahead, Marinette made a break for it, all but pushing her way through. 

“Ha!” She puffed, feeling quite triumphant at having successfully given Adrien the slip. She had no idea what had crawled up his butt and gotten his undies all a-twist.

Bah, let him stew about it. Just because he suddenly decided he didn’t want to go to the living room didn’t give him the right to basically haul her out of there in a fireman’s carry. 

Besides, it was just a room full of more couches and chairs and drunken teenagers. Apart from the rather abysmal décor—whoever had decorated this place had a serious weakness for anything tasseled, gold-plated, or dripping in crystal. And sometimes even all three at once—there wasn’t even anything that upsetting in there. 

Her eyes fell to a loveseat, nestled in the corner and slightly farther away from the action. 

In a manner of speaking at least... The two-seater sofa seemed to be getting quite a lot of action at the moment. Or at least its occupants were.

Marinette’s eyes widened, recognizing the couple from earlier. 

Except now, under the brighter lights of the living room, she was able to more fully recognize them. Well more specifically, one of them. 

The blood drained from her face.

Because there, in front of God and country, sat Félix Agreste—the man of her dreams and the person she’d been seeking for the better part of two hours. 

Félix, who was currently shoving his tongue down the throat of a beautiful, dark-haired girl. 

She felt Adrien come up beside her. He sighed heavily. 

“I tried to warn you...”

Her throat locked up, the words she wanted to say falling into the gaping chasm that had just opened somewhere beneath her feet. 

All she could manage to do was nod before she too began to fall.  

-x-

Chapter Text

Earlier, when she was in the side room feeling extremely out of place and somewhat prudish, Marinette had found her mind wandering to what it might be like to be caught in a compromising situation with Félix Agreste.  

He was so strait-laced it was almost impossible to imagine, her brain repeatedly coming up with an error message every time she tried to picture someone as serious and self-contained as Félix losing himself in the throes of passion. 

And yet, there he was. Throwing his passion all over some random girl; putting the ‘love’ in loveseat. 

Marinette felt faintly sick to her stomach to discover they were the couple she had effectively been peeping on earlier. Since he was the supposed love of her life and had been her crush for pretty much as long as she’d been breathing air, Marinette figured she would have recognized him almost instantly. Although admittedly it had been quite dark. And they’d been partially obscured by the curtains. 

Yet even now, Félix looked so different than she was used to seeing him, and not just because some girl’s hand was wandering up under his shirt (blegh). His hair was mussed as though someone had been running their fingers through it, making him look rumpled, and a bit wild, and totally delicious. 

And also like a complete stranger. 

Marinette was struck for the first time by the notion that perhaps she didn’t know as much about Félix Agreste as she had always believed. 

His hands were still wandering all over the girl, trailing up her arm to tangle in her long, silky-looking dark hair. They briefly separated, forced to succumb to another pesky human desire: breathing. 

Someone coughed, a failed attempt at covering the sound of their snickering. Marinette’s ear caught someone muttering for them to “get a room”, but no one actually made a move to interrupt the two. They were by no means the first to have done such a thing at one of these parties, or even probably the first that night. People were undoubtedly just making such a fuss because it was Félix Agreste. 

Which… Marinette could somewhat relate to. This was, after all, extremely juicy gossip. 

It just so happened to have also left her feeling vaguely heartsick and suddenly very much not in the mood to party.  

“I think,” Marinette announced suddenly, not entirely sure to whom she was speaking, “that I would like to go home now.” 

Then she turned on the spot, making a break for the nearest exit.

This was not at all how she had expected this evening to go. Not after such a promising afternoon of Félix flirting with her, allowing her to touch him... She’d been hopeful that meant that Stage Two: Bikini had been a success and that he was finally starting to notice her.  

Or maybe he was just horny, and looking for whatever piece of ass came his way most quickly. Marinette swallowed thickly at the thought, a bitter taste in her mouth. Everything had been going so well, and now it was so wrong. 

Adrien caught up to her, his hand a gentle anchor on her elbow. 

“Are you okay?” He was breathing heavily, his brows pulled down in concern. Adrien had chased her because he was worried. About her. 

Marinette felt the heat pressing insistently at the back of her eyes increase. 

DO NOT CRY HERE. 

Her hands flew to her face, slapping her cheeks roughly. 

Smack! 

Adrien reared back in alarm.  

Marinette kept her hands pressed against her face, the pressure helping to keep her focused and prevent her mind from wandering back to whatever was currently happening in the other room. 

“Yup!” She nodded jerkily, forcing a brightness she did not feel into her voice. “Totally fine! Absolutely fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Right…” Adrien was going to great lengths to be delicate, as though she were on the brink of a meltdown. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue. “Did you want me to call my driver to take us home?”

That sounded like a much better alternative than having to call and wake her father, begging for a lift home. Since that would also mean being forced to explain why she was leaving, alone, after only a couple of hours. 

She’d originally told her parents not to wait up, that she would probably be gone until very late, but that she’d be coming back with the Agrestes and their bodyguard and thus would be perfectly safe. Her parents—because they were the best and also very familiar with the routine at this point—had told her to be safe and not take any drinks from anyone, reminding her that they trusted her to be responsible and use her discretion.

Getting a lift home would help her avoid any unwanted scrutiny...  Still, Marinette hesitated, not wanting to drag Adrien away from the party if he really wanted to stay.

She said as much, but Adrien only waved off her concerns. 

“Any excuse to get out of a party is a good one in my books,” he assured her, tapping away at his phone screen. His phone buzzed insistently a few times before falling silent. He put it back in his pocket. 

“He should be here in about ten minutes. Did you have a coat or anything?”

Marinette shook her head. “Nope, just brought what I have on me.”

He gave her a slow once-over, clearing his throat when she caught him staring. 

“Right! Looks great—UH, I mean SOUNDS great. Not that it doesn’t look great. Because it does? Um?”

They lapsed into somewhat of an awkward silence after that, both of their minds elsewhere, preoccupied with other things. 

Until a voice from behind had them rapidly coming back to the present. 

“Hey, little brother.”

As one they turned to find Félix slouched and leaning heavily on his mystery date, who was supporting his weight with a look of long-suffering patience. Adrien scrutinized his older brother, his eyes narrowing to slits before widening. 

“Félix, are you drunk?” Adrien’s voice rose incredulously, his brows practically disappearing into his hairline. Marinette’s head whipped around, examining Félix with fresh perspective. 

He was listing quite tellingly to one side… 

Félix shook his head from side to side, the exaggerated denial reading like a giant sign spelling out the word YES in flashing neon lights.

Marinate could hardly believe it. Félix barely ever drank! How had he managed to get himself to this state?  

The girl, whose name they still didn’t know and who Marinette was irritated to realize was still there, laughed brightly. 

“Apparently he underestimated just how much the punch would be spiked.” She gave him a sly look. “I did warn you though, didn't I?” 

Felix didn’t bother to respond, choosing instead to nuzzle into her hair. The girl blushed prettily, looking both pleased and embarrassed by the attention. 

Marinette gnashed her teeth. 

“I’m Bridgette, by the way,” she extended a hand, which Adrien quickly reached out to shake. 

“You must be Adrien. And Marinette. I’ve heard so much about you!” Bridgette’s dark gaze settled on her and Marinette felt her stomach curdle, an irrational dislike of the girl taking root. Her hand was still extended, and Marinette realized with a jolt of horror that it was because she was also expected to shake it. 

Oh no. 

Her eyes darted around, measuring the distance to the door. 

Scale of one to ten: how rude would it be if I just walked out right now, and never looked back? 

Marinette felt Adrien nudge her in the side, and knew that escape was nothing more than a pipe dream.

“Hi.” She gritted out, attempting a smile as she grabbed Bridgette’s outstretched hand and pumped it once, up and then down. She let go as quickly as possible, shoving her hands into her pockets to avoid thinking about how smooth Bridgette’s palms felt in comparison to her own, and how the thought made her skin crawl.  

“It’s so nice to meet you both! Sorry that it wasn’t under better circumstances. I’d rather not be meeting my boyfriend’s family for the first time with a serious buzz on but hey, what can you do, right?” 

So they had both been drinking. Félix more obviously so, but now that she’d pointed it out, Marinette could see that the rosy flush to her skin wasn’t just from being love drunk, but also just regular old drunk-drunk. 

Their behaviour from earlier made a bit more sense now. One teenager with lowered inhibitions was one thing. But two teens, with lowered inhibitions and heightened libidos?

God, it was a miracle they’d managed to keep their pants on. 

Something Bridgette said finally registered, grabbing Marinette’s attention.

My boyfriend’s family… 

BOYFRIEND?!

“Wait, you guys are dating?!” She and Adrien exclaimed at the same time. Bridgette looked taken aback by their reaction. Or maybe it was the fact that they had just spoken in near-perfect unison and seemed not to think anything was weird about it. 

If she was dating Félix, then she’d have to get used to the fact that Adrien and Marinette had joint-custody of exactly one (1) brain cell, and it was in a near-constant state of crisis. 

Like, for example, right now, where it was working double-time as they both tried to process the fact that Félix apparently had a SECRET GIRLFRIEND??? ?

“Yes?” Bridgette confirmed, looking between them uncertainly.

“Since when?!” 

Bridgette looked to Félix for assistance, but he was of no use, staring blankly at the wall, his eyes unfocused and vacant. The lights were on, but no one was home in the mind palace of one Félix Agreste. 

“Um, I guess it’s been a bit over a year now?”

A YEAR. Félix had managed to successfully hide his relationship status from everyone in his life for OVER A YEAR. 

Marinette would have been less shocked if someone had come up to her right then and smacked her soundly across the face. Although she felt marginally better about the fact that Adrien apparently hadn't had any idea either. And he lived with Félix. 

She looked to Adrien, willing him through their single shared brain cell to rally himself and take the reins of the conversation. Because she couldn’t seem to get her mouth and her brain to form any coherent response; her vocabulary currently limited to the words ‘what the fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and any available combination therein. 

“Oh wow, congratulations! Félix, uh, didn’t mention it?” Apart from a brief fumble, Adrien was doing a great job of sounding remarkably normal; his voice level but with just the right amount of enthusiasm for it to seem genuine. It also succeeded in putting Bridgette at ease, judging by the way her posture relaxed. 

Marinette would have almost felt bad for her, if she wasn’t too busy hating her guts. 

Adrien’s phone rang shrilly, interrupting the agonizing awkwardness of their conversation. 

He fished it out of his pocket, finger sliding across the screen before he’d even checked the caller ID. Clearly she wasn’t the only one who was grateful for the reprieve. “That’s probably my driver. If you’ll excuse me.”

He stepped away, phone already raised to his ear. 

“Hello? Yup, by the front door… Same place you dropped us off. Okay, we’ll be out shortly. Thanks.”

He hung up, turning back to them. His green eyes fell on Marinette. 

“He said he’ll be here in two minutes. We should probably head out.” 

Marinette could have kissed him. At last, an escape from this never-ending nightmare!

“Oh, are you guys heading out?” Bridgette sounded relieved. “Would you mind taking this one home with you? I was planning on staying a bit longer, but I think he’s probably had enough party for one night.” 

Félix, as if to back up her statement, chose that moment to sway on his feet, nearly taking them both down as his legs buckled. Adrien swooped in, catching his brother and saving them from a rather untimely meeting with the floor. 

Slinging his brother’s arm over his shoulders, Adrien grunted slightly at his weight as Félix leaned on him. “Of course! It’s no trouble at all. If he was capable of words right now, I’m sure Félix would be apologizing for making an ass of himself.” He blinked, his brow furrowing as he was struck by a sudden thought. 

“Wait, are you planning on staying here alone?” He frowned at Bridgette, who held up her hands as if to fend off his concern. 

“No, I came with some friends actually! I’m pretty sure they’re still here, so I was just gonna meet up with them so we could head home together…”

Adrien was already shaking his head. “Absolutely not.” His refusal was point-blank. “I don’t like the thought of leaving you here by yourself, and I know my brother wouldn’t either. We’ll take you home.”

Marinette's eyes widened in horror. 

She knew instinctively that he was right. They couldn’t leave Bridgette there by herself, on the off chance that her friends were still hanging around somewhere. Especially when she herself had admitted to drinking and not having her wits about her. 

That being said, the thought of driving home in a car with Félix and Adrien and Félix’s girlfriend was not exactly a pleasant one.

“O-oh, that’s not necessary!” Bridgette stammered, put on the spot. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you!” 

But Adrien was already making his way to the door, lugging Félix’s empty husk with him, his mind made up. 

“It’s no trouble at all. Feel free to take your time if you need to grab your stuff. We’ll wait for you outside.” 

Bridgette stared after him, turning her big doe eyes on Marinette in supplication. 

“Looks like the tribe has spoken.” Marinette shrugged before hurrying after them, her own feeling of helplessness rising. 

-x- 

They all piled into the car—Bridgette in the front seat, Marinette, Félix and Adrien taking up the back. Marinette and Adrien had managed to shove a suddenly unruly Félix into the backseat between them, only succeeding in calming him when they showed him that Bridgette was in the front of the car. At that, he settled back, seemingly content. 

Bridgette directed the driver to her house, which was only a couple of minutes away. She and Adrien chattered happily the whole way—as though they were all suddenly the very best of friends—going through the sort of general get-to-know-you questions that were as necessary as they were mind-numbingly boring. 

They found out that she, like them, was from Paris, and that she was visiting family that lived in the area. Bridgette also let it slip that she was seventeen, the same age as Adrien and Marinette, which blew the last of Marinette’s desperate theories clean out of the water. 

She’d still, somehow, been trying to find plausible excuses or explanations as to why Félix had chosen Bridgette and not her. But now that she knew with certainty that it wasn’t a question of age—that it had never been her age that was holding Félix back from seriously considering her as potential girlfriend material—Marinette felt the last embers of hope she’d been clinging to extinguish. 

It wasn’t because she was too young. Félix just wasn’t interested in her. 

Period. 

At last, they arrived, dropping Bridgette off in front of her house. Marinette watched through the rear window as the other girl cheerfully waved goodbye. 

She turned around quickly, not returning the gesture. 

Félix, who had been primarily silent for most of the drive, seemed to have been roused slightly by Bridgette’s departure. He gazed around the car in confusion, looking much more alert than he had previously. 

He peered at her, leaning in close. 

“M’rinette?” Her nose wrinkled as she caught a whiff of him, the scent of liquor wafting off of him quite strongly at this proximity. 

Nevertheless, even pungent aromas weren't enough to deter the butterfly wings she could feel fluttering in her abdomen. 

A sensation that only multiplied once she registered the warmth of his hand on her face. 

She froze in her tracks, certain that her eyes were probably comically round. 

...What the actual fuck is happening...?

He made to pat her cheek softly, the gesture falling somewhat short, landing more in the territory of a lingering caress. “You dressed up. Looks nice.” He slurred with the thick-tongued eloquence of someone who had seriously over-imbibed. 

Marinette blinked. Huh. 

Who knew that Félix Agreste would be such a touchy-feely drunk? 

Before they could get too comfortable though, his hand was unceremoniously removed from her person by Adrien, who yanked him back into his seat. 

“How about you keep your hands to yourself instead of pawing at her like an old lecher,” he glowered, less of a suggestion and more an order. He looked like he was regretting his decision to put Félix in the middle seat. 

Félix let out a huff, his equivalent of hooting with laughter. “You would say something like that...” He trailed off, giving his brother a look that Marinette didn’t quite manage to catch.

She quirked a brow, not understanding the meaning behind his statement. Was it some kind of inside joke?

Her suspicions were pretty much confirmed when she saw fear cross Adrien’s face, his eyes flashing with blind panic. It was gone in the next instant, his expression smoothing back into something more composed, even as his lip curled slightly with disdain.

She knew Adrien was addressing her when he spoke again. “Please ignore the drunkard. He knows not what he does.” 

Marinette pouted. Yet another thing to be left out of. 

Great. 

They rode the rest of the way in silence.    

-x-

Marinette stared out at the inky blackness of the lake and the mountains beyond, the warm breeze from the open window tugging pleasantly at her hair. 

They were the only car on the road, the high beams cutting starkly through the gloom ahead, leaving the rest of the world beyond the light shrouded in mystery. It felt eerie, and a bit lonely, like they might be the last remaining people on earth. 

Huffing quietly, she shook her head at the melancholic direction her thoughts had taken, blaming it on the late hour. 

Her hair swirled around her shoulders, tickling the sides of her neck and causing her skin to break out in gooseflesh. She repressed a shiver, the feat becoming more difficult when she realized that Adrien was staring at her.

Again. 

Marinette cast him a sidelong glance under her eyelashes, hoping that maybe this time she’d be able to catch him in the act. 

Only to be disappointed when she found him—once again—looking straight ahead, face impassive. 

This had been happening for much of their drive already, these moments where she could swear she felt the weight of Adrien's gaze lingering on her. Yet, every time she turned to face him across the backseat, his attention was invariably elsewhere. It was as infuriating as it was intriguing. 

She let out a long breath, allowing the night air to carry away some of her worries. 

It had been a long day, she reasoned, dismissing the feeling as paranoia. She was probably imagining things, still on high alert from earlier. Félix was still in the car, after all, and close proximity to him did tend to wreak havoc on her senses. 

However, even having Félix wedged between them like a bleary-eyed barrier didn’t seem to have any mitigating effect on the tingle she kept getting along her skin whenever Adrien’s eyes came to rest on her. 

Annoyed at herself for being hyper-aware and on edge, Marinette closed her eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world for the remainder of their car ride. 

Even so, the tingle persisted.  

-x-

Chapter Text

Half-asleep by the time they arrived at her house, Marinette stumbled from the car, mumbling something that she hoped sounded like a thank you to the driver.

She waved limply in the direction of both Agrestes, still seated in the backseat of the car. She’d had her fill of beautiful blonde boys for one day, and was content not to linger with any long, drawn-out goodbyes. 

Doing her best to be as quiet as possible, she made her way inside, tiptoeing up the stairs and praying to whatever gods existed that she wouldn’t be stricken with a bout of her infernal clumsiness and wake the whole house. She went through her evening routine on auto-pilot, washing her face and brushing her teeth with a precision that bordered on mechanical. 

By the time she dragged herself to her room, her eyelids drooping, she didn’t even have the wherewithal to plug her phone in before crawling into bed. 

She was fast asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

-x-

[00:36] Adrien Agreste:                                                         hey i know you’re probably asleep

[00:36] Adrien Agreste:                            but i just wanted to text and see how you were doing

[00:41] Adrien Agreste:                                                              i know tonight was...A LOT…...

                                                                                              i hope ur doing alright regardless

[00:42] Adrien Agreste:                                                             im stuck doing dumb stuff with

                                                                                              my father for most of the day tmrw. 

                                                                                     feel free to text me tho if u wanna talk :)

[01:03] Adrien Agreste:                               LOL ok anyway ill stop blowing up your phone now

                                                                                                                                 goodnite!!!!

[01:04] Adrien Agreste:                                                     ALSO FÉLIX THREW UP ON MY SHOES

                                                                                  IT WAS DISGUSTING BUT ALSO HILARIOUS

                                                                               AND I HAVE NO PLANS TO EVER FORGIVE HIM  

-x- 

Marinette woke feeling disoriented, like she’d emerged on the other side of a hundred-year sleep. 

She didn’t know what era it was, let alone the time of day. She reached blindly, intent on checking the time on her phone, only to realize with a groan that it must have died at some point during the night. 

“Damnit,” she muttered crossly, making sure to plug it in before she went to take a shower. 

By the time she’d returned from breakfast, her phone had come back to life, buzzing insistently as a slew of messages arrived. She idly scrolled through her texts from last night, the ones that had come in before her phone forcefully ejected itself from consciousness. 

She set her fingers to type, intent on replying to Adrien’s messages first, when her phone began vibrating so erratically she almost dropped it in surprise. 

Another deluge of messages from Adrien had arrived. These ones had clearly all been sent in the time her phone was off, because they all had the same timestamp. 

[11:50] Adrien Agreste:                                              had to tell my father i stepped in dog shit

                                                                                          to cover for my dumbass brother -_-

[11:50] Adrien Agreste:                                                 who is EXTREMELY hungover today btw.

                                                                                                                           serves him right

[11:50] Adrien Agreste:                                                                                my poor shoes :’(

[11:50] Adrien Agreste:                                                                                               [image]

He’d sent a video of himself lowering his shoes into the garbage bin, set to a solemn trumpet salute. 

Marinette giggled. 

[11:51] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                             RIP to the real ones

[11:51] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                               you either die a hero or live long enough

                                                                                                 to see yourself become the villain 

[11:53] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                 also sry it took me so long to respond.

                                                                        im pretty sure i died at some point in my sleep???

                                                                                     like i dont even remember coming home

                                                                                                                  let alone falling asleep 

[11:53] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                     and then my phone died

                                                                                  because i have a chronic case of the dumb

                                                                                                            and forgot to charge it :’)

She made to put her phone aside, only to feel it vibrate again. Adrien must have had his phone in his hand, because he’d responded almost immediately. 

[11:54] Adrien Agreste:                                           thank goodness i was about ready to file

                                                                                                           a missing persons report

[11:55] Adrien Agreste:                                                                  i’d wish you good morning

                                                                                         but its almost afternoon at this point

                                                                                                   so it feels a little sacrilegious :/ 

[11:56] Adrien Agreste:                                                                 did you sleep well at least? 

[11:57] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                           the only thing i remember is a bright light

                                                                                                  and a voice from the other side

                                                                                                                  telling me to go back,

                                                                                                             that it wasn’t my time yet 

[11:57] Adrien Agreste:                                                                                          ?????????????

[11:57] Adrien Agreste:                                                                              wtf are you serious

[11:58] Adrien Agreste:                                                                 did you actually die for real

She snorted. He really was so gullible sometimes. 

[11:58] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                                               LOL NO

[11:58] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                   but i did feel like a corpse

                                                                                                     this morning when i woke up.

                                                                                                                  A shower helped tho

[11:59] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                                       SPEAKING OF

[11:59] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                                   I CAN’T BELIEVE

                                                                                              FÉLIX THREW UP ON YOUR SHOES

                                                                                                                          HAHAHAHAHA

The thought was revolting and yet exceedingly funny, especially when she tried to picture Adrien’s reaction. Marinette thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t been around to witness it, unsure whether her crush on Félix would have been able to survive another crippling blow delivered in such a short period of time. 

Finding out your crush had a girlfriend was one thing. Watching them blow chunks was something else entirely. 

[12:00] Adrien Agreste:                                              pls do not jest i am still in mourning

                                                                                                              i LOVED those shoes

                                                                             they were the perfect amount of broken in

                                                                   while still maintaining their beauty on the outside

[12:03] Adrien Agreste:                               i’d be angrier if he wasn’t already so miserable 

                                                                         plus the best payback will be watching him

                                                 suffer through today under the hawk-like gaze of my father

                                                                                                                                       >:3

She felt a stab of sympathy for Félix, before she remembered that she was currently peeved at him.

The whole secret girlfriend thing. Right. 

Marinette sighed despondently. 

Why did everything have to go and get so complicated? She felt her dream summer slipping out of her grasp, quietly mourning all of her well-laid plans. They were pretty much useless now that Félix had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend. In all of her hours of scheming and hypothesizing and running through various scenarios, she had never once stopped to consider the possibility that Félix might have already hitched his wagon to someone else’s. 

Now she was left with her own useless wagon, busted flat and broken down on the side of the road, laden down with plans that would never come to fruition. 

So it was for this reason that Marinette was feeling more than slightly sorry for herself when her phone rang, blasting out chipper marimba music. Alya’s name flashed across her call display. 

She pressed accept on the call, knowing that if she didn’t Alya would be on her like a bad case of the fleas. Besides, she could use some of her friend’s trademark no-nonsense wisdom at the moment. 

But instead of Alya’s bespectacled face filling her screen, Marinette found herself looking at the inside of a small pink cage. And a tiny white face peeking up at her, just barely visible on camera. 

“Hi Tikki!” Marinette squealed excitedly, clutching the phone closer. “Oh, you look so cute! I miss you so much. I can’t wait to see you when I get back.”

“For the sake of our friendship, I am going to pretend you would have said the same thing if my face had been the first thing you saw when you answered this call.”  Marinette couldn’t see her, but she could hear the dry amusement in Alya’s voice. 

The camera view flipped around, her best friend’s face filling her screen. 

“Tikki and I just thought we’d check in and let you know that we’re doing great. Our relationship is really progressing by leaps and bounds. She doesn’t cower in fear and immediately hide when I come in anymore, so I’m gonna say that’s a win.”

She leaned in close to the camera, pushing her glasses up her nose as her tone turned conspiratorial. “I think she’s finally starting to warm up to me now that she knows I’m her meal ticket for the next two weeks. We’re gonna be best buds by the time you get back, aren’t we Tikki?” Alya declared, looking off-screen. 

Her expression twisted wryly, eyes coming back to the camera after a moment. “And now she’s back to hiding. Is it always two steps forward one step back with her, or do I just have a vibe that is particularly offensive to hamsters?”

“Tikki can be a bit reticent sometimes,” Marinette admitted with a laugh. 

“Sometimes?” Alya gave her an incredulous look. “Girl, I have been friends with you for years and I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen your hamster. I was beginning to think she was some kind of mythical creature. Or you’d just made her up.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, smiling fondly. “How are things going there?”

“Nuh-uh!” Alya tutted, wagging her finger. “That is my line! You’re the one who’s currently vacationing on a lake surrounded by hotties. I want details, woman, and I wanted them five minutes ago. SPILL.”

Marinette settled back on her pillows, getting comfortable. 

This was going to take a while. 

She ran Alya through the events of the last few days, culminating in last night’s debacle. Alya was the ideal audience member, oohing and aahing appropriately at all of the juicy parts, listening with rapt attention. 

By the time Marinette had finished, Alya’s face was slack, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to absorb everything. 

She held up a hand, gathering her wits. “So you’re telling me, in the approximately forty-eight hours since you’ve been there, you have been lounging poolside in a bikini, enjoying the scenic vistas.” She began ticking things off on her fingers. 

“Rubbing elbows with the who’s-who of France.” 

Another finger went down to join the first. 

“And flirting with not one, but TWO extremely gorgeous guys who just so happen to also be filthy rich?” Alya looked dumbfounded. 

“Um, technically it’s probably been closer to seventy-two hours?” Marinette offered. “For whatever that’s worth.”

“I can’t believe this!” She exclaimed, slapping a hand on her thigh. “Man, I can’t believe you’re living it up, partying with millionaires in their mega homes and flirting with hunky men. Meanwhile, I’m stuck spending my summer chasing after snot-nosed brats and feeding a damn hamster.”

“Hey!” Marinette piped up, offended on Tikki’s behalf. “Don’t talk shit about my hamster! She is a very nice hamster, thank you very much!” 

“Next year I’m coming with you,” Alya vowed, her eyes burning with determination. “I’m not letting you have all of the fun without me again.” 

“Ugh, I wish you were here,” Marinette slumped, throwing an arm across her forehead. “I feel like you’re the only one who’d be able to help me figure out this whole mess with Félix…”

Alya hummed sympathetically. “Yeah, I gotta say I don’t envy you there. That does seem to be a bit of a predicament. Do you have any idea what you're gonna do now?” 

“No,” she groaned pitifully, staring at the ceiling as though she were beseeching the heavens for guidance. Which she wasn’t far from doing. 

“Like I mentioned, all of my plans are basically moot now so I’m gonna have to go back to the drawing board. But by the time I get something usable figured out summer vacation will be over, Félix will be gone, and everything will be ruined!”

Alya’s face was contemplative, even through the camera. 

“So basically you have to somehow make Félix realize that you’re dateable, and also the girl of his dreams in less than two weeks?" 

“Well, when you put it that way…” It sounded completely ludicrous. Two weeks theoretically sounded like a lifetime, but Marinette knew it would fly by. Time on the lake always did. 

“Girl! I can’t believe you are seriously considering wasting your whole vacation chasing after some guy who can’t pull his head out of his arse long enough to see how great you are. Continue doing hot girl shit, live your best life! If anything, it’ll probably just help your cause if you show him what he’s missing.”

The problem was that she had already tried that. Apart from the whole not chasing after Félix thing—because that option wasn’t even on the table—Marinette felt like she’d tried every trick in the book at this point, pretty much exhausting her list of teen movie tropes. She refused to let all of that time spent watching those blasted teen dramas as research be for naught. 

That was a significant portion of her life she would never get back, goddamnit. 

But how could she possibly convince someone she was dateable, when she’d never even dated anyone? 

She chewed on her lip, considering. 

A thought dawned, causing her to straighten. 

“I need someone to date me.” Marinette breathed, ignoring Alya’s exaggerated eye-rolling. 

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that kind of the point? I thought that was the whole reason we were here...”

“No no no,” Marinette rushed on, her brain whirring furiously as it latched on to a thread of something, an idea partially forming. “Not Félix. I need someone else to date me.”

Alya remained silent, her confusion palpable. 

“I need to show Félix that I’m girlfriend material to make him realize what he’s missing.”

Alya scrutinized her through the phone, her golden eyes narrowed. “So basically, you want to make him jealous?” 

“Yes!” Marinette cheered, mentally patting herself on the back for coming up with such a brilliant plan so quickly, and under pressure no less. Weren’t diamonds also formed under extreme amounts of pressure? 

How fitting then, because Marinette could feel that this plan, unlike her previous ones, was going to be her crown jewel. 

Why had she not considered this option before? It was perfect! Practically a staple of the teen genre, nearly inescapable amongst the slew of movies and shows she’d watched throughout the fall and winter. It was exactly what she needed to kick things into high gear. It was… also missing one very important element. 

“You do know you’re going to need another person to go along with this scheme, right?” Alya’s voice broke through her reverie, bursting Marinette’s bubble and sending her careening back to the earth. 

She slumped, her head hanging under the weight of her realization. 

“I know…”

“Also, not to be a hater girl and completely rain on your parade or anything but like, who would you even get to pretend to date you on such short notice? Do eligible hotties just grow on trees out there, ripe for the picking, ready to be harvested for their fake-boyfriend material?” 

As Alya ranted, Marinette felt her phone buzzing, a banner notification indicating that she’d received another text message from Adrien. It was a picture of he and Félix in the back of their car; Félix glaring at the camera and looking miserable, while Adrien smiled beatifically.  

Then she got an idea. 

An awful idea. 

Marinette had a wonderful, awful idea. 

She smiled, her mouth curving into a shape that she was almost positive looked as diabolical as it felt. 

Alya blanched at the sight, rearing back from the camera. 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking right now, just know that I do not approve, and do not want any part of it.” She warned with a shake of her head, her eyes wide. Something told Marinette that if Alya had access to a crucifix at that moment, she would have been holding it up between them. “Let me live in ignorance, with my peace of mind intact.” 

And with that, she ended the call, the video going dead. 

Marinette flopped over on the bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as she deliberated, weighing her options.  

The way she saw it, two paths laid before her. 

At the end of one, a future where she did nothing, choosing to let things run their course; hoping without hope that Félix would wake up one day and see she was the one he was meant to be with all along. 

In other words: a calm, boring, and routine summer. Just like every summer that had come before. 

Or, the other far riskier path, the future that awaited her there far more uncertain...   

It had the potential to blow up spectacularly in her face, raining down destruction and horrors beyond her wildest imaginings. 

And it was also maybe her last shot at the one person she was convinced had been specifically chosen by the universe and the powers that be, especially for her. The boy she had always believed she was meant to be with. 

He just hadn’t realized it yet. 

Marinette reached for her phone, typing out a message before she could lose her nerve. She paused at the last second, however, her finger hovering uncertainly over the send button. 

An image—from a dream? Or maybe a memory—flashed through her mind’s eye, golden sun and golden hair. The sound of a woman laughing. 

A little boy’s brilliant smile. 

She pressed send. 

-x- 

[16:45] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                      hey can we hang out tomorrow?

                                                                                         i have an idea i want to run by you

[17:28] Adrien Agreste:                                                                                      sure thing!

                                                                                                       what time works for you?

-x- 

Chapter Text

When Adrien showed up at her house on Sunday afternoon, Marinette’s parents were already lying in wait. 

He’d barely had the chance to knock on the door before Marinette’s father was yanking it open. 

“Adrien!” Tom boomed, scooping the boy up in a bone-crushing hug, lifting him clear off his feet. 

“Hi Mr. Dupain,” Adrien wheezed, his face turning red as Tom’s arms slowly ground his spine to dust.

“Tom, put him down! You’re gonna kill the poor boy!” Sabine chided, waiting for her husband to set Adrien back on his own two feet before pulling the blonde into an embrace of her own, albeit with much less force.  

She pulled back, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as she gave him a once-over. 

“Now let me have a look at you. Oh my goodness! I can’t believe how much you’ve grown!” She exclaimed, fussing over him. “And so handsome too. Isn’t he handsome, Tom?”

Tom clapped Adrien on the shoulder, smiling at him. “I’ll say! Marinette conveniently failed to mention that when she was updating us about you.” Her father shot her a sly look. 

Marinette facepalmed, raking a hand over her features as her parents laughed.

Adrien, for his part, was taking her parents doting very gracefully. He let them fawn all over him with the patience of a saint, blushing faintly at their attention. He even appeared to be enjoying it somewhat, so Marinette let him have his moment. 

God knows he didn’t get enough parental affection at home. Gabriel Agreste wasn’t exactly known for his warm and loving parenting style. 

After a while though, she intervened, knowing instinctively that her parents would have no qualms about hogging Adrien’s attention all afternoon, and that simply would not do. 

They had important matters to discuss, after all.

She reached in between her parents, grabbing Adrien by the wrist. 

“Okay, okay! That's enough. Adrien will still be here later, so you guys can continue lavishing him with praise then. In the meantime, we’re going upstairs.”

Ignoring her mother and father's twin looks of disappointment, Marinette dragged Adrien along behind her, glad that she hadn’t had to fight too hard to free him from her parents' clutches. Once they were safely ensconced in her room, she let him go, moving to close and lock the door behind them.

“Sorry it’s a bit messy. Go ahead and take a seat wherever.”

He’d moved instinctively toward her desk chair, but it was covered in clothes and various sewing projects. Evidently not wanting to disturb them, Adrien hovered uncertainly for a moment, at an impasse. 

She watched as he eyed her bed distrustfully. 

“I don’t have bugs, you know.” She pointed out dryly. He took a seat gingerly atop the covers. 

Marinette took the chair, shoving her pile of clothes onto the floor. She’d deal with them later. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Adrien asked, shifting around as he made himself comfortable. He settled for sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, facing her attentively. 

Marinette remembered when they both used to be able to lay side-by-side in her bed, holding hands and staring up at the glow in the dark stars she’d forced her parents to stick on the ceiling when she was seven. Back then it had felt like there was an ocean of space between them on the mattress. 

Some days it felt like no time had passed since then. Like she could close her eyes and wake up, seven years old again, with no concern for crushes or deadlines or romance in general. Back to the days of playing in the grass and the mud, swimming in the lake until the sun was setting and their fingers were pruning and they were being called home for dinner. Back when everything had felt so big and there wasn’t a single problem their parents couldn’t solve. 

Back before she’d even known what cancer was, let alone how quickly it would take away the most beautiful lady she’d ever seen. 

It felt like it was yesterday. 

Yet Adrien’s body took up almost the entirety of her bed now. She doubted he’d even be able to lay down without his feet hanging over the end.

It was a sobering reminder that the march of time was relentlessly moving forward. And if she wasn’t careful, she would be left behind. 

Marinette shook off her feelings of melancholy, centering herself back in the present. She would need to have all of her wits about her to lay out The Plan in a way that didn’t have Adrien questioning her sanity, or running for the hills. 

Clearing her throat, she prepared to launch into the speech she’d spent the last half a day honing. “Well, I'm glad you brought it up because—”

A noise had her pausing mid-sentence, her mouth snapping shut with a click as she listened intently. 

That was definitely the creak of a floorboard, coming from just outside her bedroom door. 

She stood silently, tiptoeing across the floor, taking care to keep her footfalls light.

Her hand closing around the knob, Marinette unlocked it swiftly, almost ripping the door off its hinges when she tore it open. Both of her parents blinked at her from the other side of the doorway, guilt written all over their features. 

BUSTED. 

“How many times have I told you guys not to eavesdrop?! UGH,” she growled, stalking from the room angrily. “Come on, Adrien. I suddenly feel the urge to go for a walk outside. Where no one will be CREEPILY LISTENING IN ON US.”

She heard Adrien trotting along after her, mumbling apologetically to her parents as he passed. 

As Marinette stomped down the stairs, her mother yelled after them, amusement clear in her voice. 

“You’re more than welcome to come back for dinner, Adrien! Tom’s already made your favourite tart!” 

“Thank you, Mme Cheng!” Adrien called over the sound of their footfalls, heavy on the old wooden floorboards. 

“Make sure you’re both back by six-thirty!” 

Marinette took some satisfaction in closing the door a bit too firmly behind them as they left. There wasn't any real heat or anger behind the action; it was more an act of protest, letting her parents know that she didn’t appreciate them violating her privacy by spying on her and Adrien.

Especially today, when she really didn’t want to run the risk of them overhearing any of their conversation.  

Adrien fell into step beside her, a comfortable silence descending as they traced familiar paths through the woods. By some unspoken agreement, they wound up moving away from both her house and his, following the lakeshore as it twisted and bent in the direction of town.

The path was a bit overgrown in spots, but not impassable. The foliage on either side of them was lush and green, the air smelling thickly of dirt and life. It was a heady smell, one she associated strongly with her childhood and the hours she’d spent traipsing through the woods, either with Adrien and Félix or by herself when they hadn’t been available to play with her.

It still held the same kind of magic; the ability to make her feel like she was removed from space and time, suspended in the sunbeams that poked through the treetops far overhead.   

She inhaled deeply, basking in the moment. 

It was quiet, the only sound coming from their breathing and the wildlife around them. The chittering of animals, the rustling of leaves, and below it all the constant murmur of the water lapping against the shore.  

The path fed onto a stretch of beach, with a floating dock and gazebo just beyond it. Marinette picked her way across, keeping an eye out for any particularly pretty stones along the water’s edge. Adrien picked up a couple of particularly flat ones, ideal for skimming. 

He launched one with a flick of his wrist, sending it skipping out across the surface of the waves. 

“Ooh, nice. That bounced at least five or six times,” Marinette applauded, suitably impressed. 

He bowed flamboyantly, never one to miss an opportunity. 

She leapt up onto the dock, stepping carefully as she gauged its durability. The planks were old and weathered, but sturdy, so she made her way down the wharf with more confidence, heading for the gazebo.

The view was spectacular, the mountains and the lake filling her gaze everywhere she looked. She watched as the sun fought a losing battle with the encroaching cloud cover, eventually slipping completely out of sight. 

A bird call echoed across the water, the sound so lonesome and forlorn it caused goosebumps to raise along her arms. How spooky.  

“Should I be worried that whatever you have to tell me apparently requires near-perfect isolation? Or was the twenty-minute hike through the woods just the result of you being overcome by the beauty of nature?”

The wood creaked behind her as Adrien approached, his green eyes scanning the horizon, admiring the scenery. 

“Either way, I don’t think we could possibly find a more secluded spot if we tried. Other than waterfowl, I doubt there’s anyone around for at least a kilometer.” He looked at her, leaning against the railing with the effortless grace of someone who’d spent a solid chunk of their youth in front of a camera. 

“I’d wager the coast is clear, so let’s hear it then." He beckoned her with a wave of his hand. "What have you got cooking in that devious little brain of yours?” 

It was now or never then. Marinette gathered her courage, stepping closer to him, backing him in against the wooden barrier. Adrien straightened as her hands came to rest on either side of him, realizing he’d been cornered. 

“I have a proposition for you.”

His breathing quickened. She couldn’t blame him for his apparent alarm. She was sure the determined look on her face was a sight to behold. 

“I don’t buy this whole Félix and Bridgette dating seriously thing. I think it’s just a fling, a glorified hookup—something that’ll burn bright but not for long. He doesn’t know what he wants or needs. But I do.”  

And that would be me, Marinette thought, her heart pounding with determination.  

“As you know, I have… certain intentions when it comes to your brother. But now that he’s gone and gotten himself a girlfriend, I find myself at somewhat of an impasse. I have done everything in my power to get him to notice me, and apart from running naked through the streets, I have no options left. I need to make him see that I’m the one he wants to be with.” 

“And you,” she went on, trailing her hand down his side until she found what she was looking for, loosely linking their fingers together. Adrien stared wide-eyed at their joined hands, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “You need to show everyone that you’re back on the market, that you’re over Kagami, and you’re ready to get back in the game. And what better than a summer fling to show everyone that you’re not still nursing a broken heart, pining after your ex-girlfriend?”

“Let me get this straight,” he said to their hands, clearing his throat when his voice cracked ever so slightly. “You’re suggesting that I have a fling.” He finally succeeded in tearing his eyes away from their hands, only to pin her in place with his incredulous gaze.

“With you.” He concluded flatly. 

“Yes with me,” Marinette said, rather affronted that he didn’t seem very enthused by the prospect of fake-dating her. “What’s wrong, am I not good enough to pretend to date you?” 

Adrien looked away, his jaw tightening. 

“Do you think people won’t buy that we could possibly have romantic feelings for one another?” Even from the side, she could see the complicated series of emotions that flashed across Adrien’s profile, too quickly for her to decipher any of them. 

He settled on a conflicted sort of uncertainty, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “That’s… not it. I just really don’t think this is a good idea. How can you even be sure this will work?” 

“I’m not.” She answered, too desperate to bother sugarcoating anything. “But I have to try something. I can’t let this summer end and still be left wondering what if. This is it... This is my last chance, and I need your help.”

She saw him waver and forged on, sensing in that moment of weakness that he might be coming around. 

“Besides, what do we really have to lose? If anything, this will help us both in the long run. It’ll show Félix that I am girlfriend material, and it will help you get your groove back. And you know what they say,” she snapped her fingers, pointing a finger gun at him. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” 

Adrien gawked at her, before flushing to the roots of his hair. 

Marinette knew she was no better off. She’d regretted the words from the very moment she had spoken them into being. 

FOOT. MEET. MOUTH. 

“Err, not that I have any intention of getting under you!” She waved a hand frantically between them, as if to dispel the words she’d spoken like a cloud of pesky flies. “Please forget I said that…”

She resisted the urge to drag a hand over her face. 

“ANYWAY—” she needed to try to salvage the moment, stat. “—I don’t see how anything could go too terribly awry. We’d both be going into this with our eyes open and our cards on the table. It’s not like we’re hiding anything.” 

Adrien’s eyes widened anew, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Marinette could only assume that his reaction meant he was seriously beginning to consider what she was saying, and the reality of the situation had begun to settle in.

“Please, Adrien. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I don’t want to do this with anyone else.” She admitted, swallowing her pride, which was balking at the thought of having to beg him for help. “You’re the only person I can trust to help me with this. Please.”

She squeezed his hand, imploring him with her eyes. 

As she watched, his resolve crumbled, turning to dust before her very eyes. 

“So, just so we’re clear here: you want to hook up with me in order to make my brother jealous, which will allegedly also come with the additional benefit of signalling to everyone that I’m over my ex and ready to date someone else?”

Marinette nodded. When he put it that way, the plan sounded about as clear as mud. 

“Okay.” Adrien said, his voice coming out in a rush. 

-x-

Chapter Text

“Okay?” Marinette echoed, not daring to believe he had so readily agreed. 

Part of her had worried Adrien would flat out refuse to have any part in her plans, maybe even going so far as to get angry that she would try to involve him in the first place. 

At the very least she had expected more resistance. Instead, Adrien pressed his lips together in a thin line, looking both reluctant and determined. It was a strangely endearing combination.

“Okay.” He repeated his previous statement, holding her gaze. “But we should probably establish some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” Marinette parroted, her mind struggling to catch up with the direction his thoughts had taken. Adrien nodded decisively, putting a finger to his chin in thought. 

“Things like dates, what we’re gonna tell people. If we’re going to let anyone in on what we’re planning. How far we’re willing to go when it comes to physical stuff…” He paused, and Marinette became aware in that moment that they were still holding hands, their fingers laced together and hanging between them.

Whoops. She flushed slightly. She’d completely forgotten. 

But now that she was aware of it, Marinette couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how warm his skin felt against hers as his thumb brushed ever so softly along the back of her hand. It felt nice, she was surprised to note.  

She returned the gesture, stroking the back of his hand with a featherlight touch, curious to see how it would feel to do it to him. 

Adrien’s breath caught, a shiver passing through him. 

Her eyes widened. 

Well, that was interesting. She would have to make note of that reaction for future use. 

“I guess we should probably decide what we’re going to tell people if they ask how we got together…” Marinette mused, considering their options. Something too elaborate would never work. Adrien might be able to pull it off, but she would readily admit to being a terrible actor. The more convoluted their cover story was, the more likely she’d be to mess it up somehow. “Should we wait and stage something more public? How do you even announce something like this? ‘Oh hey, remember us? We’re dating now.’” She made a face. “God, this is so weird.” 

She looked at Adrien, who was still watching her ramble. Something in his gaze made her feel on edge, that pesky tingly feeling from last night rearing its head again. 

Except this time there was no barrier; no buffer between them to mitigate the effect.

Just the two of them, holding hands, with no one around as far as the eye could see. 

The tingle returned full force, dancing across her skin. 

“How do you even announce something like this? Post about it on social media? Or should we go the physical route and just start hanging off each other in public, hugging and kissing and stuff?” Marinette asked, trying to ignore the strange tension she could feel building between them. 

“What if we just act like it happened naturally? Like we’d been into each other all along, and only just figured it out." Adrien’s hand was trembling in hers, belying the calm rationality of his words. "It’s important that we keep it consistent, regardless of whether people are there looking over our shoulders. We have to act like we really like one another.” 

That was a very good point. Marinette squinted up at him. Had he put serious thought into this...? 

No, she tamped down on her prickling suspicion. Knowing Adrien, it almost certainly had more to do with the extensive collection of romantic movies and books lining the shelves in his bedroom than it did any premeditation on his part. He was, after all, the self-proclaimed king of rom-coms. 

He was also, as it happened, currently leaning over her, their positions from earlier completely reversed. 

Now she was the one being caged in by his arms, the wooden railing pressing into the middle of her back, its solid presence helping to keep her grounded. 

“Maybe today was when we discovered our feelings were reciprocated,” Adrien spoke lowly, his voice little more than a rumble between them. “Maybe this is the moment we had our first kiss.” 

Well, it wasn’t exactly what she had pictured when she proposed that they pretend to date one another. There wasn’t even a single living being around to see them, apart from the occasional creature skittering through the reeds along the shore. So how did Adrien expect the information to get back to Félix, if there were no witnesses? 

Still, maybe he was right, she mused. They needed to be able to play along in private just as well as they did in public. This could be the dress rehearsal to prepare them for their big performance. It would help to make everything seem more organic and thus more believable when the time came. 

Marinette felt her heart rate pick up. Things were moving so much quicker than she had anticipated. She had no idea when she invited Adrien over today that they would wind up like this. 

They were a hair’s breadth away from one another now, Adrien's eyes darting back and forth between her own. They moved across her entire face, cataloguing her expression, gauging her reaction to his proximity.

She returned the favour in kind, unable to tear her focus from him. She’d never noticed how many different shades of green were in his eyes before. It was mesmerizing, watching them shift as they caught the light from different angles.

They were dark now, practically absorbing the light as his pupils dilated. 

Marinette swallowed.  

She felt nervous, and uncertain, and so many other emotions she couldn’t even begin to put names to most of them. 

But nowhere in amongst any of it did she feel like she wanted him to stop. 

Adrien closed the last few millimeters of space between them. 

His lips came to rest (so soft! so warm! A small part of her brain marvelled) on her own.   

A beat passed. Followed by another. 

Adrien made no move to close the distance between their bodies and embrace her fully. Their only points of contact were their lips, tenderly pressed together. And their trembling hands, clasped tightly.  

Marinette felt a rush of warmth move through her, traveling from the top of her head all the way to the very tips of her toes. It only served to amplify the tingle, which seemed to have taken up permanent residence somewhere beneath layers of skin and muscle, settling bone-deep.  

She could even see a glow on the backs of her eyelids, as though the whole world had lit up in response to what she was feeling. 

Her eyes slipped open—when had they even closed?—to find that the world had, in fact, lit up around them; the sun peaking through a gap in the clouds behind her, gilding the world around them in gold. 

She waited, watching until Adrien’s eyes slowly opened as well, drowsily reflecting the sun’s warmth back at her. Her heart stuttered in her chest. He really was beautiful. 

He smiled against her lips, pulling back after another moment. 

“We should get back.” He suggested, his voice hushed. “Your parents are probably waiting for us.” 

Marinette nodded, not sure she’d find her voice if she went looking for it at the moment. 

Adrien led the way, guiding her back the way they’d come, up the beach and to the path beyond. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. 

Marinette was more than a little surprised to realize that she really, really didn’t want him to. 

-x- 

They sat down for dinner with her parents just after seven. 

Adrien took his usual spot on her right, as was their custom. It felt exceedingly normal, just like any other day. 

Ignoring the fact that the two of them had been making out not even an hour prior. 

Which Marinette was obviously VERY SUCCESSFULLY doing. 

Apart from that damned tingle...

She pressed her lips together, reaching for a dinner roll, and very deliberately avoiding the temptation to glance to her right. She suspected her parents knew something was up, judging by the loaded looks they kept shooting one another when they thought she and Adrien weren’t looking. Thankfully though, they didn’t say anything, keeping the dinner conversation light as they plied Adrien for information, wanting to know what he’d been up to since they had last seen him. 

Marinette mainly stayed silent, content to listen in on their idle prattle, piping in enough to let them know that she was still actively paying attention. And to keep anyone from realizing that the events of this afternoon were playing on repeat in her mind, visible on the backs of her eyelids every time she blinked. 

She shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth, trying to wipe away the memory of Adrien’s lips on hers.

Yes, that was good. Focusing on food would keep her sufficiently distracted, and keep her mind away from more… treacherous paths.

The crunchy crispness of the lettuce was a nice distraction from the memory of smooth, soft warmth, pressing with a gentle firmness against her—  

“AGH!” She hollered, forcefully clamping down on that thought, intent on wrangling it into submission. 

BAD BAD BAD. 

Adrien and her parents looked at her in alarm. 

“I, uh, bit my tongue?” Marinette tried, her mouth still full of food. 

“Try to be more careful, dear. And please don’t speak with your mouth full.” Sabine sounded exasperated, no doubt more by Marinette’s poor table manners than by her outburst. Her parents were more than accustomed to her eccentricity by now. 

Adrien's eyebrows quirked up, the corners of his mouth curling. “You alright?”

The little bastard had the audacity to look cheeky, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and was enjoying her discomfort. She shot him a dirty look.

Adrien’s eyes gleamed knowingly. 

“Mhm,” she replied, thankful for the mouthful of food as it prevented her from adding anything more. The last thing she needed was to say something stupid like “Just you wait, cause I’ll be the one kissing the crap out of you next time!” Or, even worse, “Hey, wanna makeout again later once my parents have gone to bed?”

She took some measure of comfort at the fact that the tingly feeling had significantly abated though. It was already overwhelming enough trying not to blush every time she caught Adrien’s eye over the table. The last thing she needed was for her parents to catch on to her current line of thinking. Or to realize just what they’d been up to on their 'walk'. 

Heaven help us both when they do. She swallowed thickly, food turning into a solid lump in her throat. 

They would probably be ecstatic. Marinette would never hear the end of it. 

Instead of saying any of this though, she kept her thoughts to herself, smiling sweetly at him even as internally she vowed revenge. 

You mark my words, Adrien Agreste. Next time I’ll be the one making you squirm. 

And if she took a not-insignificant amount of satisfaction at the way his face paled and he choked on his sip of water, well, no one was the wiser. 

-x- 

Chapter Text

“Marinette, when we grow up, will you be my girlfriend?” 

She looked over at Félix, taking in his profile as he lay in the grass beside her. She could hear the murmuring of the lake somewhere close by, just out of view. 

The sunlight through the leaves overhead threw curious patterns across his face. 

“But we are grown up,” she replied. “I’ll be seventeen in like a month, and you’re going to university in the fall... How could we possibly be any more grown up than this?”

Félix looked as though he hadn’t heard her, staring intently at the canopy above them. 

Had she said that all aloud? It certainly felt like she had, but dreams had a funny way of playing with perceptions like that. 

He turned his head towards her, his bangs falling across his face at the last moment, hiding his blue eyes from her view. 

She wanted to reach out and brush them away, so she could see the look he was giving her. But her hands were frozen at her sides. 

“Do you promise?” 

She opened her mouth, a response already forming on the tip of her tongue.

-x- 

With a sharp gasp, Marinette jolted upright in bed.  

She was drenched in sweat, her pyjamas clinging to her like a second skin. 

The fragments of her dream were already dissipating, becoming almost intangible even as she grasped for them. She had the vaguest impression that it had to do with the lake, and someone familiar...  

The threads dangled just out of reach, taunting her. 

“Ugh,” she groaned, peeling herself up off the bed, intent on reviving herself with a nice, hot shower. 

Although judging by the warm air she could already feel creeping into the corners of the house, it was probably going to be hot that day. 

On second thought, maybe a cold shower would be better. It might also help to clear her lingering grogginess. For the first time since they’d arrived at the lake, Marinette had slept very fitfully, tossing and turning for what felt like hours before she was able to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Normally she slept much better when they were at the cottage, the peace and tranquility of the woods helping to lull her to sleep much more easily.

Not last night though. 

Probably because she had a lot on her mind. She turned on the tap, setting it to just above lukewarm. A quick, cool shower would do her a world of good.  

Besides, depending on how sweaty she got, she might have to have another one later before her date with Adrien anyway. 

She paused, her face screwing up at the thought. 

She had a date. 

With Adrien. 

Those were strange words to think about together. 

He’d texted her about it after he left last night, asking whether she was free to go to dinner. She had said yes of course, perfectly content to get the ball rolling on this plan of theirs. But it certainly didn’t help to make the whole thing feel any less surreal, or bizarre. 

Marinette shook her head. There would be time to think about all of this later. 

First things first, a shower. Then breakfast. 

A freakout would have to wait until later. 

She was on vacation after all, which meant she had a strict ‘no meltdowns before breakfast’ policy. And she intended to stick to it. 

-x- 

As she'd suspected, the day wound up being an unseasonably warm one, with the temperature climbing up into the thirties by midday.

Marinette figured it was just her luck. 

She was about to go on the first date of her entire life, and Mother Nature decided to scorch the earth and rain hellfire down from the sky. 

Typical. 

She hadn’t had the energy to do much of anything, spending most of the morning sitting in the shade in the backyard with her parents until the sun rose too high overhead and the heat became too much, driving them all indoors.

She sought refuge in her room, turning the ceiling fan on as high as it would go as she tore her closet apart, looking for something appropriate to wear that evening. She’d packed plenty of clothes—although not as many as she would have liked, having originally tried to wheedle her parents into letting her bring three suitcases full, which they had flat out refused. Instead, she’d had to settle for one large suitcase and a duffel bag, both filled to bursting—but she hadn’t packed anything that would be suitable for both the temperature and the activity in question. 

She had an abundance of what she deemed date-worthy outfits—on the off chance that she managed to convince Félix to ask her out before the end of their trip—but they didn’t feel quite right. They were either too dressy, or too casual; too stuffy, or too breezy. 

Throwing a knit sweater on the growing heap of clothing behind her, Marinette stared with dismay at her nearly emptied closet. At this rate, she was either going in her pyjamas, or naked. 

It didn’t help that Adrien was refusing to tell her where they were going, insisting that it would “ruin the surprise.”

Although she was pleased to see that he was taking the whole thing so seriously, his commitment to the bit certainly felt more like a hindrance than a help at the moment, as she stared at the mountain of clothing laid out on her bed.  

She picked up her phone, debating whether to call Alya and ask for her opinion. 

She thought better of it at the last second though, too sweaty and cranky to put up with a lecture. She had no desire to have Alya rake her across the coals or try to talk her out of her plan. 

She’d call Alya tomorrow and update her. Maybe. 

Marinette nibbled on her lower lip, parsing through the pile in front of her. Her eye caught on a piece of light-coloured fabric, buried underneath a hot pink jumpsuit. She pulled on it, trying not to cause an avalanche as she worked it free.    

“A-ha!” She cried, successfully freeing the piece of fabric, which turned out to be a cream coloured maxi dress. It was made of lightweight cotton, with bell sleeves that fell just off the shoulder, and a crochet trim along the base of the skirt and sleeves. It looked cute, but not too dressy. And most importantly, it wouldn’t suffocate her. 

“Hallelujah,” Marinette breathed, collapsing on the bed with the dress on top of her. The hardest part was done now.  

Her eyes slipped closed as she felt the heat and lack of sleep finally catching up with her. 

Maybe I should set an alarm, she thought hazily. Her phone felt so far away though. And she was so comfortable… 

She snuggled down, burrowing into the pile of clothes and clutching the dress protectively to her chest. It would probably be fine. 

Just a few minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt anything. 

-x- 

For the second time that day, Marinette was jolted awake. 

This time it was to the sound of insistent knocking coming from her bedroom door. 

“Marinette?” Her mother’s voice called through the wood, sounding concerned. “Adrien is here to pick you up. He said something about you two going for dinner?”

Completely disoriented, Marinette scrambled for her phone, checking the time. 

It read five forty-five.  

“SHIT.” 

Chucking the dress off of her—she sent a silent prayer to the powers that be that it wouldn’t wind up too wrinkled—she ran to the door, nearly bowling her mother over on her way to the bathroom. 

“TELL ADRIEN I’LL BE READY IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!” 

She slammed the door behind her, not waiting to hear her mother’s response. 

Marinette tore through getting ready like a woman possessed. She’d planned on taking her time primping, intent on meticulously applying her makeup and styling her hair to perfection. Even if it was just a fake date, she still wanted to look her best. 

All of those plans had to be thrown out the window though, thanks to the impromptu three-hour nap she’d decided to squeeze into the middle of her day.

You know, like a giant moron. 

If she wasn’t so busy trying to beat the world record for speediest makeover sequence, Marinette would have been kicking herself for the sheer dumbassery of it all. 

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), she was quite well-versed in the art of oversleeping and having to get ready in a rush—seeing how it was her lived experience pretty much every day during the school year—so she knew how to cut corners where she could. She was in and out of the shower in record time, due in part to the fact that she’d had the foresight to wash her hair and shave that morning. 

Thank god for small mercies. The last thing she needed was to accidentally slice her leg open and wind up bleeding to death in the shower. That would almost certainly make them late for dinner.  

She was just about to begin tackling the problem of her hair when another knock came at the door. 

“I’m a little busy!” She hollered, her mouth full of bobby pins. 

The door opened a crack. 

“Are you decent?” Sabine asked. 

“Yes?” Marinette stared at herself in the mirror, and the disastrous state of whatever was happening on the top of her head. In a manner of speaking anyway. 

Maybe a strategic retreat was in order, she mused, ready to deem her hair a lost cause and move on to her makeup. She could always just braid it back or throw it up in a bun.  

Her mother entered the bathroom more fully, taking in the sight of Marinette wrestling with a hairbrush, comb, and several bobby pins simultaneously. “...Do you need help?”

Or better yet, she could call for reinforcements.  

“Yes please.” 

Content to let her mother figure out how to make something presentable of her hair, Marinette went about applying the quickest face of makeup she could. A little bit of concealer, mascara, and a rosy lipstick that would double as blush should do the trick. She dared not risk eyeliner or eyeshadow while under duress (another unfortunate lesson learned). 

Sabine began combing through her hair, setting about detangling it with the efficiency of a drill sergeant. Marinette winced as the comb caught on a snarl. 

“So you’re going on a date with Adrien, hm?”

Marinette caught her mother’s eye in the mirror, her own eyes widening in surprise at her deviousness. She should have known to expect something like this—she’d let her guard down in desperation though, and now she was cornered, staring down the barrel of an interrogation.

“Adrien told us.” Sabine’s eyes bored into her in the mirror, staring intently over her shoulder. 

Marinette cursed internally. It had been foolish to hope that she’d be able to keep her parents completely in the dark about all of this. She hadn’t wanted to lie to them about what she and Adrien were doing, but didn’t feel comfortable revealing the truth of it either—mainly out of fear of disappointing them. 

She knew without question that her mother and father would not be supportive of her pretending to date Adrien in order to snare Félix. They might even try to forbid her from doing it entirely. Or worse still, they might threaten to tell Gabriel... 

But apparently the choice was now out of her hands, and she would just have to figure out a way to work around it. 

“Yeah,” she replied, grateful for an excuse to break eye contact, under the guise of focusing on her mascara application.  

“Your father and I were quite surprised. You didn’t mention anything to us.”

She knew her mother was trying to coax the answers out of her, but Marinette didn’t bite. She didn’t want to say too much, for fear of contradicting anything Adrien might have already disclosed. They would have to make sure to get their story straight when they were at dinner tonight, otherwise they would continue to find themselves in these situations going forward. 

Marinette hummed noncommittally, aiming for lightness when she responded. “It’s still really new, so we weren’t sure how to go about telling people.”

It was more of a half-truth than a lie, and probably the best she could manage under current circumstances. She patted a bit of lipstick onto her lips, before applying the smallest bit to the apples of her cheeks. 

She felt her mother’s hands pull back from her hair, falling to land on her shoulders. 

“Done,” Sabine said, looking at Marinette in the mirror. 

She’d done a remarkably good job in such a short window of time, Marinette marvelled. Her mother had braided the front parts of her hair back, wrapping and pinning them in place, and left the rest to hang in waves down her back. It looked elegant and effortless, and not at all like she’d just spent three hours sleeping with it up in a messy bun. 

“You’re a wizard,” Marinette breathed, turning this way and that to check her hair from different angles. “How did you manage to make something presentable out of that bird’s nest?”

Sabine laughed, her eyes twinkling. “A wizard never reveals their secrets.”

She pushed Marinette gently towards the door. “Now you’d better hurry up and get changed. We’ve left poor Adrien alone down there with your father for far too long. Heaven knows what he’s managed to drag that boy into.”

-x- 

By the time she made her way downstairs, it was just after six o’clock. She stood on the stairs, taking in the sight of her father and Adrien engaged in a rather heated match of Ultimate Mecha Strike III. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Tom crowed, as the TV began blaring out triumphant music. “The champion reigns supreme!” 

Marinette was relieved to see that they hadn’t been waiting in awkward silence, and that her father hadn’t been giving Adrien the third degree or anything, but she felt mildly embarrassed all the same. 

If this had been a real date, she would have preferred not to start the evening off with her father wiping the floor with her would-be suitor in a video game smackdown. 

She opened her mouth to say as much when Adrien, who must have caught sight of her from the corner of his eye, turned. His eyes widened. 

He stood quickly, the controller tumbling forgotten to the floor at his feet. 

That was all she saw before she had to turn her attention back to her own feet, lest she wind up sending herself tumbling to the floor in much the same manner. 

“Ah,” her mother said, standing at the foot of the staircase. “It’s so rare to see a man stand when a woman enters a room anymore.” She made her way over to Tom, who had also risen to his feet when they entered, kissing him on the cheek in greeting. 

“Maman,” Marinette whined, embarrassed by what she’d said and the fact that her parents were seemingly incapable of not being lovey-dovey with each other for more than five minutes. 

She arrived at the bottom, hale and hearty and somehow, miraculously intact. Which in her books, would count as a not insignificant victory. 

Adrien met her at the foot of the stairs.

“Hi,” he said shyly, looking handsome in his pale blue button up and khakis. The combination set off the beginnings of his tan, which she knew would only deepen the longer he spent in the sun. In the meantime, he was all golden skin and hair and Marinette couldn’t help but think that he looked almost intimidatingly attractive, standing in her tiny living room.

He was also still staring at her.

“You look nice,” she told him, very aware that her parents were listening in on their every word. It would have been weird if she hadn’t said anything, she assured herself. Especially since anyone with a functioning set of eyes would have been able to tell she had just been ogling him not three seconds prior. 

To her surprise, her statement caused Adrien to turn pink. She would have figured that someone who made their living being hotter than the average person would be well aware of the effect their appearance could have on people. Evidently not though, she noted, watching the way the colour in his cheeks continued to deepen.  

“Thanks. So do you. Really, you look… Yeah.”

Marinette tugged at her dress, adjusting one of her sleeves. “Thank you. Sorry that it took me so long. I...may have accidentally fallen asleep.”

Adrien smiled at her, his green eyes crinkling. “I should have figured as much. I’m glad I told you to be ready half an hour before we actually needed to leave then.”

Her mouth dropped open in outrage. 

“YOU LITTLE—!” 

He darted out of the way as she swatted half-heartedly at him. 

“Do you have any idea how many years I just took off my life, rushing to get ready?!”  

He held up his palms, not looking abashed in the slightest by her scolding.

“It worked though. Now we won’t be late for our reservation. Maybe I should consider doing this all the time...” He tried to say it with a straight face, but cracked up laughing at the last minute, probably at the look of impotent rage on her face. She heard her parents join in from the sofa.

Marinette crossed her arms with a huff. 

“Just so you know, I can’t stand any of you people.”  

-x-

Chapter Text

When they pulled up in front of the restaurant, Marinette’s first reaction was one of confusion. 

It was hardly much of a restaurant at all. Calling it a hole in the wall might be a more apt description. 

She had been fully expecting Adrien’s driver to drop them off at one of the swankier, more popular local places—somewhere that they could be discreetly spotted out together to get the rumour mill churning. Most of the usual date spots were situated along the waterfront, in the more upscale touristy part of town.

Tucked away on a little sidestreet barely wide enough for a car to pass, the tiny mom and pop shop in front of them could not be more removed from the hustle and bustle. Or farther from what Marinette had imagined. 

Once they were seated on the patio—by the only person she could see who was visibly working there, apart from the man in the kitchen—she said as much to Adrien. 

“Not to doubt your master plan or anything, but how is word of us dating going to get out unless we go somewhere a little...busier?” She gazed around, taking in the tables around them. By her count there might have been three inside, with another four out on the terrace (one of which they were currently occupying). Apart from the two of them, and another couple seated inside, every single table was empty. “We’re practically the only ones here.”

Adrien looked unbothered by her assessment. “You’d be surprised. It may not look like it, but this place is actually quite popular. It’s still a bit early now, but it’ll fill up later. Mark my words.”

“Plus,” he pointed out, “it’s also a pretty frequently used street for people heading down to the waterfront. Look.”

She turned, watching as a group of people did in fact come strolling around the corner, making their way down the street towards where she knew there was a busier thoroughfare.  

“And besides, the last thing we want is to be too obvious about this whole thing.” Adrien shrugged, leaning back in his seat as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “If we go out somewhere we know people will see us, it will definitely look like we’re trying too hard.” 

He... was making a lot of valid points, she admitted, somewhat reluctantly. Almost like he’d prepared his arguments. 

Well played, Agreste. Clearly you’ve done your homework. 

“All right, point taken.” Marinette acknowledged with a proverbial tip of her hat. She still felt a niggling skepticism simmering under the surface, but she was willing to hold off on any final judgement. Adrien did have far more experience with the dating scene of the upwardly mobile after all, so she’d no choice but to place herself in his (hopefully) capable hands. 

For now. 

She had another burning question she needed answered, anyway. 

“Why does it seem like everyone here knows you?” She leaned forward, keeping her voice low and staring at him intently. 

That got a reaction from him. Adrien blinked rapidly, clearly thrown by the sudden shift in direction. 

Marinette wasn’t sure why he would be so taken aback by her question though. If anything, she was the one who had been taken aback when upon walking in, every single person working in the restaurant or even remotely affiliated with it had come out of the woodwork, loudly exclaiming over Adrien, hugging him, kissing his cheeks, and marvelling at how handsome he had grown. 

At first she’d assumed they must be fans, but then she had overheard an older woman (presumably the owner or the owner’s wife) asking about his family; inquiring after both his mother and his father as though she knew them well. Adrien had given a non-response, dodging her questions with the grace of someone who was used to being hounded by the press for information. 

Still, Marinette had filed the interaction away, all but burning with curiosity and intent on getting to the bottom of this surprisingly warm welcome. 

Adrien was saved from answering by the arrival of the waitress, a young woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to the older woman from earlier. A daughter, perhaps. 

She set cutlery in front of them, before telling them the special for that evening. Marinette tried to discreetly look around for a menu, but came up empty. 

“There aren’t any menus here,” Adrien explained, obviously catching her confusion. “Everything is decided by the whims of the chef and based on what food is available and in season. But everything is always delicious, trust me. It’ll blow your mind. Do you want something to drink?”

“Um, just water is fine,” she replied, surprised at how smoothly Adrien had taken the reins. He was behaving like quite the gentleman, which, combined with the atmosphere, was really starting to make it feel like a date. Everything from the little wrought-iron patio tables with their red and white checked tablecloths, to the twinkling lights hung above them practically oozed romance. 

How bizarre. 

“Two waters it is then,” Adrien said, smiling winningly at the waitress. The woman blushed in response, quickly darting back into the restaurant.   

Marinette watched her go, recognizing that look. Another unfortunate victim had fallen to the infernal Agreste charm. She silently saluted the woman in her mind, commiserating with her. 

These boys really were too handsome for their own good. They should come with a warning label that read: 

‘DANGER! Prolonged exposure to undiluted Agreste Appeal may cause sudden bouts of lightheadedness, swooning, and in severe cases, heart palpitations. Talk to your doctor if your symptoms persist, or if you start losing the ability to form complete sentences.’ 

Smiling secretly to herself at the thought, she turned back to find Adrien’s eyes pinned on her. He was giving her what she could only describe as a knee-weakening look, his eyes dark and fixed upon her. 

He had one elbow on the table, his chin propped lazily on his fist. He looked like he’d just stepped out of an ad campaign for some kind of expensive cologne, or other unattainable luxury item. 

In other words, he looked devastatingly handsome. 

Or, as Alya might have termed it, like sex on legs.

“What?” Marinette asked, the Ghost of Tingles Past slowly rearing its ugly head. She squashed it down like a bug. That was the LAST thing she needed right now. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He smiled, a slow, sultry curl of his mouth. The Tingle gained strength, shivering with pleasure. 

“Like what?” 

“Like that!” She cried, pointing at him accusingly. He blinked back at her, the picture of innocence. “You’re giving me this look like...” She did her best approximation of The Face, trying to demonstrate for him. 

Adrien squinted, considering. 

“I’m no doctor, but in my professional opinion I’d say it’s either constipation or a stroke.” 

They both burst out laughing. 

Their food arrived moments later, diverting both of their attention sufficiently to other things. All it took was one bite for the last of Marinette’s lingering reservations to melt away. The food was incredible; fresh and flavourful and undeniably delicious. Earlier, she’d thought Adrien might have been exaggerating a little bit in his assessment of the place. If anything though, he hadn’t talked it up enough. She moaned appreciatively as she took another bite. 

This might be one of the best meals I’ve ever had. It’s like heaven in my mouth. 

“Oh my god, where have you been all my life?”

She stared in amazement at her plate. 

Adrien looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused by her reaction, or uncomfortable at the borderline obscene sounds she was emitting. 

“Glad you like it,” he said simply, eyes glued to his own plate in front of him. She thought his ears looked a little bit pink, but that could have been a trick of the fading light. The sun had all but set now, the sky deepening to a rich inky blue above them. The street was much darker too, the shadows stretching and spreading their way from corner to corner. 

But the strands of lights strewn overhead cast the whole patio in a soft glow, fending off the growing darkness, and adding to the overall ambiance of the warm summer evening. 

The restaurant was starting to fill up now, Marinette noticed with some surprise, taking stock of their surroundings for what felt like the first time in hours. 

The street was bustling. Where there had been only a trickle before, there was now a steady stream of passersby, out enjoying the night air and all of the attractions the nightlife had to offer. Soft music began floating through the air, coming from somewhere at the back of the restaurant. Someone must have turned on the radio. 

Even though she had always imagined that her first date would be with Félix, Marinette was willing to admit that being here with Adrien was... unexpectedly nice. She was actually surprised to realize how much she was enjoying herself so far.  

Not a bad date, even if it is only make-believe. 

She caught Adrien’s eye and smiled at him with all of the warmth she could feel building in her chest. 

He looked away quickly, blushing even more visibly. 

When she was finished, it was all Marinette could do not to lick the plate clean. She’d have to bring her parents here next time they came into the city to eat. Her father would love this place. 

That reminded her. 

“How did you find this place anyway?” She asked Adrien curiously. Her family had been vacationing here for as long as his, and yet she had never heard of this restaurant, or even been up this street. 

“I… used to come here occasionally. With my family.” Adrien looked quite nervous and unexpectedly bashful as he admitted it. 

Marinette’s breath caught in surprise. 

At her silence, he went on. 

“My parents used to really enjoy coming here. My mother more than my father, I think, but he would do just about whatever she wanted,” here he laughed slightly, his eyes warm with remembrance. “So whenever they went out for date nights, this is where they would come. Although now that I think about it, I’m sure my father enjoyed how private it was.”

Marinette was mesmerized by the light she could see dancing in his eyes. Adrien was practically glowing, lost in his memories of happier times.  

“Sometimes on special occasions, they would take Félix and I along with them. I haven’t come here in a long time actually. Not since before Mom got sick…” 

As if someone had flipped a switch, the light in his eyes dulled, and Marinette reached across the table before she could think twice about it, covering his hand with her own and squeezing slightly.  

Adrien took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. 

His eyes were downcast, focused on where their hands were joined on the table. When he made as if to pull away, Marinette retracted her hand, feeling the slightest sting of hurt at his apparent rejection of the comfort she had been trying to offer.

Adrien caught her hand though, flipping it so that he could lace their fingers together more comfortably. He gave her a soft look, communicating everything he could not bring himself to say aloud with his eyes. 

Oh. 

She swallowed, trying to ignore the way her stomach felt as if it had come alive with butterflies. 

It must be the romantic atmosphere. The whole thing was going to her head like a glass of wine, leaving her feeling fuzzy and soft around the edges. 

She had been surprised by the gesture, that was all. 

Nothing more to it. 

-x- 

Chapter Text

As they were getting ready to leave, Marinette’s eye caught on an older gentleman wandering down the street, a basket full of flowers on his arm. 

When he caught her looking, he made a bee-line for them where they were seated on the edge of the patio. 

“A flower for the pretty lady?” He offered, picking a red one from the basket and brandishing it to her. 

“Oh no, that’s quite alright!” Marinette attempted to wave him off, knowing that she didn’t have any change on her at the moment. 

“Actually, would you mind if I picked one?” The vendor looked delighted as Adrien poured over the selection, carefully examining the various blooms. 

“Ah, I see we have a man here who is very familiar with the language of flowers!”

Adrien laughed slightly. “I’d hardly say I’m fluent. More of a passing interest, if anything.”

The vendor gave Marinette a knowing look over Adrien’s head, his dark eyes twinkling. “This one is a romantic at heart. You are in good hands with him.”

She blushed. 

Adrien pulled a delicate white blossom from the bottom of the pile, having made his choice at last. He handed the man some money, causing the old man’s eyes to widen. 

“This is too much!’ He exclaimed, making as if to hand the bill back. 

Adrien shook his head, smiling at him. “Consider it my thanks for letting me manhandle all of your wares.”  

After thanking him profusely and wishing them both a good night, the flower vendor made his way up the street with a spring in his step, giving them one last wave before disappearing around the corner.

“The language of flowers, eh?” Marinette wagged her eyebrows at him. “Is that part of your fancy homeschool curriculum?” 

Adrien flushed at her teasing, the corners of his lips twitching as he fought not to laugh. 

“No, that’s all extra-curricular. Everyone has to have a hobby.”

“Here,” he handed her the flower. Marinette had no idea what kind it was, but it was certainly beautiful. The petals were snowy white and soft to the touch. She took a deep breath. And it smelled divine. 

She cradled it in her hands, like it was something precious and to be treasured. Then, after a moment of consideration, she tucked it behind her ear, securing it in place with one of her braids. 

Marinette tilted her head this way and that, making a show of modelling it for him. Adrien snorted, giving her a lopsided grin, which she took to be a stamp of approval.

“So, since you’re apparently an expert in the ways of love and flowers, tell me, oh wise one: what does this one mean?” 

Adrien looked away quickly. 

“Uh, I’m not sure actually. Guess I didn’t get that far in my reading.” He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug, his eyes trailing over the other tables around them. The patio was completely full now, the noise picking up around them. 

“We should probably get a move on,” Adrien said, his chair scraping back as he rose to his feet. 

“What about the bill?”

He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Adrien!” She cried, her hands falling limp at her sides as she stood as well. “You can’t seriously expect me to let you pay for all of this! Especially since it was my idea in the first place.” 

Not only had she dragged him into this, but now he was insisting on paying for everything too? She couldn’t possibly accept that. She never expected him to actually foot the bill, regardless of whether they were dating for real or not. “At least let me split the cost.” 

“No can do, Princess. The bill’s already been settled.” He winked at her. “If you really want to, you can always get the next one.”

Marinette blinked, startled to realize that there would, in fact, be a next one. She had been so focused on this one date that she hadn’t even paused to consider that things like this were now expected of them, and that they would probably have to do this several more times.  

The thought was far from unpleasant.

Adrien ushered her out onto the street, waving goodbye to the restaurant staff as they made him promise to come back soon. His hand was a warm and solid weight at the small of her back, igniting tingles that travelled all the way down her legs. 

“So, where to now?” She asked, doing her best to tune the sensations out. 

“Well, since you wanted to make sure we were seen out together, I thought we could maybe take a walk along the waterfront. I told my driver to pick us up at ten-thirty, so we still have some time to kill.” He held out a hand expectantly, palm up. 

Sensing that he was waiting for some kind of response, she gave him a high-five. 

Adrien stared at her blankly.

Marinette realized—slowly and oh so painfully—that he had not, in fact, been asking for a high-five, but had been holding his hand out because she was expected to take it. 

Because they were pretending to be a couple. 

And holding hands was a thing that couples did. 

Adrien had been trying to hold her hand and she’d given him a high-five like a complete dumbass. 

“Why am I such an idiot?”

Mortified, she covered her face with her hands as Adrien dissolved into giggles beside her.

“Ha!”  

Thank god no one had been around to witness her blunder. How was she ever going to convince people they were a real couple if she couldn’t even get something as simple as holding hands right?  

Adrien finally got himself under control, swallowing down the rest of his laughter. He gently removed her hands from her face, taking one of them in his. 

“I am going to hold your hand now,” he said very slowly, as though he were explaining it to a child. She pressed her lips together, giving him a flat look and trying not to laugh. 

“YES, I KNOW THAT NOW.” 

Strolling hand in hand away from the restaurant, they came to the corner of a much busier intersection. 

Here the crowd was thick with people milling about, coming in and out of the bars and restaurants that dotted much of the street. Adrien pulled her to the right, heading in the direction of the water she could just see glimmering in the distance. It was too noisy to maintain much of a conversation, so Marinette simply did her best to hold on to his hand and not get lost in the throng. 

At last they emerged alongside the canal, coming to an area that was thankfully less congested. On one side of them were various shops, restaurants and cafés, their patios aglow and bustling with tourists and locals. Along the other was a long waterway that fed out into the lake. Its surface was dark and smooth like glass, reflecting the yellow lights of the city back up toward the heavens. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Marinette remarked, feeling the breeze tugging at her hair, swirling in her long skirt. The air was cooling down now that the sun had set, a blessed relief from the earlier heat. 

She raised a hand, checking to make sure her flower was still in place. 

Adrien gave her other hand a squeeze, causing her to turn to him. 

“C’mon, there’s something I want to show you,” was all he said. 

-x- 

“They call it the Lovers’ Bridge.” 

Marinette looked around.

They had followed the canal for another ten minutes or so, coming to the point where it fed out into the lake. At the end of the tree-lined walkway stood an arched, wrought-iron footbridge. On one side, it offered a view out onto the peaceful tranquility of the lake and the sleeping mountains beyond. On the other, the light and liveliness of the city at night. 

“Apparently, if two people kiss in the middle of the bridge, their love will never end... At least that’s what one guy on Yelp said, and I’m inclined to believe him.”

“Well, that’s convenient, seeing as how we are currently in the middle of the bridge,” Marinette remarked dryly, her mouth quirking. “I like how you waited until we were already here to share this information with me.” 

Adrien shifted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Guilty as charged.”

They both stared out over the water, neither willing to address the elephant in the room. 

“So…” She drew out the syllable, stretching it for all it was worth. Adrien glanced at her sideways, the look in his eye obscured by his long eyelashes. “Should we k—?”

“Iss?” Adrien supplied when her voice petered off. Marinette nodded. 

“It would certainly help with our charade,” Adrien mused, his voice remarkably level. However, his laidback tone was belied by the way he kept fidgeting. First with his watch, then his shirt cuff, then on to whatever object was closest and most readily available for his twitching hands. 

“Right.” 

“Especially because you never know who might be passing by who could see us...” Marinette wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince her or himself that this was a good idea. All she knew was that they were standing much closer than they had been before. And she couldn’t seem to stop her eyes from darting down to his mouth. 

“Yeah…” She swallowed. 

Adrien was definitely leaning towards her now. Her breath started coming faster, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

There were mere millimeters between them. All it would take was one person tilting their head ever so slightly to close the remaining distance. 

The wind pulled her skirt against her legs. She could feel Adrien’s breath, puffing against her face. 

So close… 

The blare of a ringtone startled them both enough that they jolted apart, staring at each other wide-eyed. 

“I think you’re ringing.” She told him. Adrien coughed, fumbling to pull his cellphone from his pocket. 

“It’s my driver.” He sounded inexplicably disappointed.

Marinette tried to ignore her own feelings of disappointment. “You’d better answer it then.”

He gave her a weighted look, hesitating. 

“Go,” she urged him as the phone kept ringing. 

She turned to stare back out over the water as he stepped away to take the call, attempting to get her heart rate back under control. That had been… unexpectedly intense. 

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid thumping underneath layers of skin and bone. 

Truth be told, it was probably for the best that they hadn’t kissed, Marinette reminded herself, strengthening her resolve even as she ignored any lingering jitters. Because as much as she might be enjoying the make-believe, she didn’t actually have any intention of falling in love with Adrien forever. 

Félix was her end goal. 

Still, her (traitorous! dangerous!) inner voice pointed out, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun in the meantime. 

-x- 

By the time she was home and ready for bed, she saw that she had a notification on her phone.

“Adrien Agreste tagged me in a photo?”

She opened the app, quickly locating the photo in question. He must have taken it after he got off the phone with his driver, Marinette realized. 

The picture showed her leaning against the railing of the bridge, facing away from the camera, out towards the lake and mountains that were just barely within view. The barest hint of her face was visible, along with the flower, which stood out stark white against the darkness of her hair. The whole tableau looked rather dreamy she had to admit, even down to the way her skirt was billowing around her legs, glowing bright in the dim light.  

Marinette double-tapped the screen, liking the photo automatically. It was a very nice picture. 

“That sneaky little sneak,” she laughed when she noticed he’d even tagged the location as ‘Pont des Amours.’ He was way ahead of her. She hadn’t even known he’d taken the picture. It was a brilliant move, one she wished she’d come up with. It would definitely help to generate a buzz, judging by the dozens of likes and comments she could already see pouring in. 

She typed out her own comment, pressing send. 

Two could play at that game, she thought, already scheming. 

-x- 

[image]

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adrienagreste making the most of this vacation and enjoying the view 

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theofficialchloebourgeois please tell me this is a joke

mari.d.c  who’s the hottie??

-x-

[image]

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mari.d.c from an adoring fan 😌

adrienagreste rude 

princesse_rose what a beautiful gardenia!! I bet it smells heavenly  💕😍

-x- 

Later, when she would remember, she looked up the meaning of the flower online. 

“The gardenia is a flower that symbolizes purity and gentleness... Another symbol of the gardenia is secret love between two people...”

Marinette decided she wouldn’t let Adrien know about it, for fear of his reaction. 

After all, he’d probably be quite embarrassed to discover he’d accidentally confessed to having a ‘secret love’ for her in the language of flowers.

-x- 

Chapter Text

Tuesday morning dawned, bright and full of possibility. 

Well, actually that was a complete lie.   

In reality, it was rather bleak outside, heavy clouds hanging low over the mountains, painting the lake and surrounding landscape in shades of misty grey. 

It was rainy, and cold, and distinctly un-summery in all of the ways that mattered. And so far, the only thing it promised to be full of was the insistent buzzing coming from the area of Marinette’s cell phone. 

The blasted thing had been going off systematically since last night, a slew of messages and notifications pouring in. Clearly, the world had started to figure out something was up between her and Adrien—her phone buzzed again sharply, as if to illustrate her point—and some people were not happy about it. 

Upon waking that morning, Marinette had automatically—foolishly—gone to check her messages, only to be gobsmacked by what she found. Her most recent post had gotten hundreds of likes and comments, most of which were from Adrien’s fans, and she’d gained close to a thousand new followers overnight. 

And that was just on one app. 

She had taken one look at the rest of the bright red notification badges on display and promptly thrown her phone off to the side and away from her person, resolving that she would not in fact be checking any social media today. Nope. 

Not even if Félix Agreste himself had slipped into her DMs to profess his ardent, undying love for her. 

She eyed the phone where it sat across the room. 

Well maybe...  

"No!" Smacking her cheeks with both of her hands, Marinette stood, intent on occupying her time with other things. Maybe she’d go see if her mother needed a hand with anything downstairs. 

After all, if she kept herself distracted, she wouldn't feel the need to check her phone. No matter how great the temptation might be.

-x- 

Although Marinette's resolve managed to carry her through the rest of the morning, by lunchtime it had already begun to wane, the siren song of her phone drawing her back upstairs almost as soon as the table had been cleared of dishes.

She flipped her phone over, unlocking it quickly.

She was just going to check her text messages, nothing more.

It proved to be a good thing too, since she had about fifteen missed texts from Alya, each one more frantic than the last. 

[10:56] Alya Césaire:                                      .....why the fuck did you post a picture of a flower 

                                                                                on your desk and tag adrien agreste in it ??? 

[11:14] Alya Césaire:                                                            i know i said i didn’t want to know...

[11:14] Alya Césaire:                                                                   .....and tbh i still don’t.............. 

[11:18] Alya Césaire:                                     but since you have apparently decided to call down 

                                                                         the LITERAL WRATH OF GOD ON YOURSELF (....im

                                                                          serious his fanbase is no joke... :/) i feel i have a

                                                                            moral obligation to ask you this as a concerned

                                                                            citizen who also happens to be your best friend

[11:19] Alya Césaire:                                                                     what the FUCK have you done 

There were a few screenshots of some of the more… intense comments from fans on her post, as well as a screenshot of Adrien’s post which Alya had simply captioned ‘??????’. 

The last message, which had only been sent fifteen minutes ago, was short and to the point, comprised only of two words. 

[13:36] Alya Césaire:                                                                                                       call. me.

Marinette gulped audibly.

Who knew that so much meaning could be contained in so few characters? 

-x- 

It took her another hour to build up the courage to call. Alya picked up before the first ring had even been completed. 

“Hi.”

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me!” Alya seethed. “I’ve been waiting for you to call me all day!”

Marinette winced. Starting strong right out of the gate, huh? 

It was obvious that Alya had no intention of beating around the bush, which meant there was a very real chance she might actually be Big Mad about this.

“Imagine me, first thing upon waking this morning, scrolling idly through my feed like it's any normal old Tuesday, when lo! Doth mine eyes deceive me? I find that you have APPARENTLY been spotted cavorting with the little prince of the Agreste empire. When last I checked you had your eyes on the heir, not the spare!” 

Marinette was abruptly very thankful they weren't on a video call, because she knew without question that Alya would have been giving her the hairy eyeball if visual contact had been a possibility. She repressed a shudder. Alya's tirade was already powerful enough without the multimedia experience. 

“So, once again, I am going to ask: what in the fresh hell are you up to?” 

When the silence began to extend past the point of comfort, Marinette decided it was probably in her best interest to start stringing together a plausible defense.

Er... explanation...

“Well, remember that conversation we had the other day?” Without waiting for confirmation, Marinette launched into her story, briefly outlining her brilliant plan, filling Alya in on all the details of what had happened since they last spoke. She skimmed over much of her conversation with Adrien, not wanting to let on just how reluctant he had been when she first proposed the idea to him. The worst thing she could do right now was give Alya any hint of uncertainty, because she would latch onto it like a lion might an antelope. 

There would be teeth. And blood. And someone would most likely wind up getting devoured. 

When she finished, there was a long pause on the other end of the line. 

“What the fuck?” Alya whispered, sounding stunned. “What the fuck?”

Marinette licked her lips, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth worriedly as Alya attempted to gather her thoughts.  

“Let me get this straight... In an effort to get one boy’s attention, you decided a social media soft launch of your fake relationship with his little brother—who is a LITERAL celebrity with MILLIONS OF FOLLOWERS—was your best plan of attack.”

“Uh…” Marinette could certainly acknowledge that it sounded somewhat outlandish when framed in that light. 

“Okay, without even delving too deeply into how much I do not think this is a good idea because for the record I don’t,” Alya emphasized, “something isn’t adding up in all of this. Adrien just… went along with this plan of yours, no problem?”

“I mean, he was a little reluctant at first...” And if by a little reluctant, you mean diametrically and quite vehemently opposed to the concept, then yes, I would say he was a little reluctant, Marinette grimaced at the unwelcome thought. Although admittedly it might have been a slight understatement to chalk Adrien's reaction up to mere reluctance, she figured that in this instance what Alya didn't know wouldn't hurt her. “Once I explained everything to him though, he got on board pretty quickly. Adrien knows how much this means to me, after all.”

Alya scoffed, the sound positively radiating disbelief. “Nuh-uh. Something else is definitely going on here.” 

“What do you mean?” Marinette stiffened, her shoulders creeping up toward her ears as a rising tide of suspicion swept over her.

“From what you’ve told me, Adrien has never been enthusiastic about the prospect of you dating his brother. Even if that were to suddenly—for some unknown reason—have changed, I still don’t understand what he’s really getting out of all of this.” Alya was onto something now, her tone thoughtful as she chased the thread of a potential story for all it was worth. She had a single-minded determination when it came to routing out the supposed truth at the heart of things. And Marinette knew that once Alya had latched onto an idea or a theory, she would follow it to the ends of the earth, come hell or high water. 

Which was exactly what appeared to be happening at that very moment. 

“Sure, I guess it will help to let people know that he’s over his break-up, but it just seems fishy to me...” Marinette tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach as Alya gave voice to the niggling doubts she herself had been having. 

“What, do you think Adrien is trying to sabotage me or something by ruining my chances with Félix?” 

“Mm, no that doesn’t sound right either,” Alya answered, deep in thought. “I don’t know, girl. Call it intuition or a bad feeling or whatever you’d like. I just get the impression that there’s more to this than meets the eye... Like maybe yours isn’t the only plot afoot.”

Marinette swallowed. That was...not a comforting thought. 

Alya went on, her voice turning grave as she issued one last warning. “Just, whatever you do, don’t forget to look at this from all perspectives. And watch out, okay? The last thing I want is for you to go and get your heart broken by these boys.” 

-x-

As Marinette lay in bed that night replaying their conversation, she began to wonder whether this whole scheme wasn’t more liable to blow up in her face than she had originally thought. 

Alya's words, like little seeds of doubt, had successfully planted themselves in her mind, finding ideal growing conditions therein. They clung onto the existing anxieties she'd already had, intertwining with them and spreading roots as they grew stronger. 

Was this really the best option? What if it all went horribly wrong? What if Adrien really was planning something?

What if, what if, what if... 

Every moment felt like she might be courting disaster, and Marinette was starting to doubt whether this plan was even going to accomplish what she had intended.

And now she’d gone as far as dragging Adrien into her schemes—ignoring any of his compunctions and concerns—convinced that her goal of bagging Félix was worth any discomfort or turmoil along the way. 

What if, what if, what if... 

On top of all that, Alya had also raised some valid points with regards to what Adrien was actually getting out of their whole arrangement. The idea that he might have some kind of insidious, alternate motive would have felt laughable, were it not for the fact that a tiny voice in the back of her mind had been wondering that very same thing from the moment he'd signed on to help her. 

What if, what if, what if...  

Adrien didn’t need to fake date her to prove to everyone that he was dateable. Judging by the number of fans who were currently leaving hate messages in her inbox, Adrien was incredibly popular and desirable. He could probably have anyone he wanted. 

So why did he agree to help her?

What if, what if, what if... 

Marinette stared at the ceiling, thoughts whirling through her head on repeat, trapped in a swirling maelstrom of anxiety and uncertainty as she contemplated the reality that she might not be as in control as she had originally believed. 

And perhaps most concerning of all was the realization that, regardless of Adrien’s possibly questionable motives or intentions, it was far too late for them to turn back now. Everything was out there for the entire world to see. 

The train was in motion and the only thing they had left to do was hold on. 

What if, what if, what if...  

Marinette began counting glow in the dark stars, knowing already that it would be a long time before sleep would come. 

-x-

Chapter Text

[10:04] Adrien Agreste:                                                                                     good morning! 

[10:04] Adrien Agreste:                                         it looks like it’s gonna be rainy again today. 

                                                                              which sucks butt because i wanted to go on 

                                                                                                                               a picnic :’(

[10:05] Adrien Agreste:                                           but i thought we could maybe hang out at 

                                                                                my place instead? my dad and brother are

                                                                                 gonna be out for most of the day so we’d

                                                                                      pretty much have the place to ourselves  

[10:08] Adrien Agreste:                                          if you want to that is! no pressure if you’re 

                                                                                   busy or something. just thought i’d see!

[10:45] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                                        morning :) 

[10:46] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                          yeah that sounds like fun! i’ve got nothing 

                                                                             planned today really. plus it’ll save me from

                                                                             being roped into another of my dad’s home

                                                                                reno adventures. he’s installing shelves in

                                                                                                                the basement today… 

[10:47] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                             ...which means i woke up to an ungodly 

                                                                                crashing sound and my mother screaming 

                                                                                          'TOM WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW'

[10:47] Adrien Agreste:                                                                        oh god is he okay?? 

[10:49] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                 all of his limbs are still attached and 

                                                                                          accounted for, so i’d say it’s a win.

[10:50] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                        at this point, i’m not sure whether i should

                                                                                 be more worried about my mother doing

                                                                              him in or him accidentally maiming himself

[10:50] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                                                                              anyway

[10:51] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:                             let me get ready and i’ll be over around

                                                                                                                                    12ish k? 

-x- 

As Marinette marched over to the Agrestes’ house later, her arms laden down with items, she cursed her lack of foresight when it came to packing cute, rain-appropriate apparel. 

Although Adrien had informed her Félix wouldn’t be home, she wanted to be prepared just in case. So she’d picked her outfit with extra care, taking the time to apply an additional coat of mascara before leaving on the off chance that she did happen to run into him. 

Now, however, as she squelched through the ankle-deep mud, dressed in her mother’s old rain boots and an oversized raincoat that had once belonged to her father, she prayed fervently that Félix wouldn’t be there after all. 

Because, despite it having worked out for Elizabeth Bennet in the end, Marinette was seriously doubtful that if she showed up looking like a water-logged rat on the doorstep of her own Mr. Darcy that things would play out quite the same way. 

She clomped up the walkway, feeling less like a heroine in a period drama and more like a workhorse, pre-industrial revolution. 

In other words, I’ve never felt more beautiful, she thought with a wry twist of her lips, groping blindly for the front door. 

When her fist met air—not wood, as expected—she looked up, peeking out from underneath her hood. 

Adrien stood in the open doorway, staring down at her with his eyebrows raised.  

Marinette blinked, surprised to find him already there. She hadn't sent a message to let him know she was on her way, which meant he must have been watching for her from the window in order to have timed it so perfectly.

Was he...waiting for me? 

The thought would have been much cuter if he wasn’t currently looking at her like she was an abandoned kitten in a cardboard box, or a sickly street urchin begging for change.  

“Are you gonna let me in, or are you content to keep staring at me like I’m the little match girl here to peddle my wares?” He moved aside quickly, letting her through. She shoved what she'd been carrying into his arms, taking care to make as little mess as possible as she removed her sodden outerwear. 

“Where should I put these?” She gestured meaningfully, her muddy boots held aloft. 

Adrien looked up from where he’d been snooping in the box of pastries, considering her briefly. 

He eyed the way she was dripping mud onto the once immaculate floor.

“Better put them in the garage,” he decided at length. “Here, you take this and I’ll deal with them.”

They traded objects, boots and jacket for the box of baked goods. 

Turning left, Adrien made his way down a side hallway, leaving Marinette to continue straight, coming to the point where the main hall fed out into the great room. 

Even though it was bleak and rainy outside, the room was still relatively bright thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows that took up most of the wall space. She ignored the spectacular view they provided though, walking past the sleek sofas and unlit fireplace that made up the main seating area, heading directly for the open-plan kitchen.

She set the large box down on the counter, content to rid herself of the burden at last. 

Her mother had all but shoved it into her hands as she was on her way out the door, instructing her not to eat any of them as they were intended for the Agrestes.

Because, in Sabine’s words, “those poor boys and their father don’t eat enough.” 

Marinette peeked inside, taking in the slew of goodies that had been meticulously laid out. A mouth-watering assortment of croissants, danishes, breads, and tarts filled every corner, piled in sweet-smelling layers. Marinette opened the box more fully, intent on putting the things that needed to stay cool in the refrigerator.   

A hand reached around her, plucking a danish from the pile. 

“Mm, apple! My favourite.” Adrien let out a pleased hum, eyes fluttering closed as he savoured the flaky pastry. 

“Yeah, my mom made sure to include a lot of those. And the tarts that she knows your dad loves, even though he pretends not to,” Marinette smirked, sticking her head in one of the cupboards, rifling around until she found a container she thought might be big enough. 

"A-ha!" She crowed triumphantly, waving a plastic container and lid in the air as she emerged. There really was no greater joy known to man than finding tupperware with a matching lid, she thought with no small amount of satisfaction.

Spoils in hand, Marinette began transferring the tarts one by one, making sure none of them got squashed or damaged in the process.

“You look like a pro,” Adrien remarked from where he was leaning against the counter. He had already begun eyeing the box for his next treat, having demolished the first in no time flat. 

Marinette snorted. “Yeah, well I’ve definitely got a lot of practice at it. Boxing things up is pretty much the only job my parents have deemed safe enough for me to do in the bakery. And even then, they won’t let me near the bigger things like the cakes and pies." She made a face. "It has been deemed 'too risky' in light of my... capabilities.”

Or lack thereof. 

Adrien pressed his lips together, clearly understanding the unspoken message. He looked like he was trying very hard not to grin at the mental image. “I can only imagine the kind of devastation that had to be wrought in order to come to that conclusion.”

She put on a grave face. “We lost many good men that day.” Handing him a spinach and feta mini quiche, she closed the container, sliding it into the nearly empty fridge. 

“What the hell do you people even do for food?” She marveled, taking in the lack of anything that even remotely resembled human sustenance inside. It was mainly full of beverages: bottles of strange-looking juices and meal supplements lining the shelves. 

“Our chef comes by around meal times and makes something usually. Breakfast is often liquids only though.” Adrien grimaced in distaste. Marinette echoed the sentiment. 

“That should be illegal. Breakfast is the best meal of the day and the single greatest thing humankind has ever invented.” 

“I know,” Adrien nodded. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Another reason why I’m thankful to sneak these treats whenever I can… Your parents’ food is so good.” He shoved the rest of the quiche into his mouth. “So much better than celery juice.” 

She patted him on the back as they made their way upstairs. “Whatever you do, don't let my parents hear you say that. Knowing them, they’ll never let you leave my house again without at least fifteen pounds of leftovers.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” was all he said. 

-x- 

“We could always watch this one...”

“Adrien, for the last time, I am not watching The Notebook again.”

“But it’s my favourite movie!”

“I know this, and I love you, but if I never watched another Nicholas Sparks movie adaptation in my life, it would be too soon.” 

A sigh. “So I guess that means A Walk To Remember is off the table then…” 

Marinette groaned, ignoring his pouting. They had been trying to decide what to watch for what felt like hours now, unable to agree on anything when it came to genre. Marinette, who was more a fan of action and thriller, kept trying to steer Adrien in the direction of a new zombie movie that she’d been dying to watch. Adrien, who was not a fan of anything involving gore, murder, or monsters, had balked at the suggestion, putting forth his own pick: another goddamn romantic comedy about a plucky heroine living in the big city, dealing with love and other misadventures. Marinette had refused.  

And so, they were at an impasse. 

“What do you have against romantic comedies anyway?” Adrien asked sullenly from where he sat at the other end of the sofa. 

She raised an eyebrow, throwing him a smug smile that she knew would set his teeth on edge. "You mean other than the fact that they're corny and unrealistic?" He blew her a raspberry. "Then how about the fact that no self-respecting person in their right mind would ever get up in front of a crowd of complete strangers and dramatically declare their love for someone?" Adrien, she was amused to note, appeared extremely affronted by her frank assessment. 

"You—gah—that's—!" When it became clear he was too aghast at her words to formulate a proper response, Marinette continued.

“Sorry, but everything about them just seems so far-fetched. Not to mention the logistical nightmare required to get most of those grandiose gestures to even happen..." She shook her head. "If I’m gonna watch something that forces me to suspend my disbelief and critical-thinking ability, then I’d rather it actually have something interesting in it. Like aliens. Or lots of explosions.”

Adrien's face was scrunched up, his sulk quite pronounced now.

“That’s the whole point though! It's supposed to highlight how far people are willing to go—risking humiliation and making themselves vulnerable all in the name of love." He leaned forward, his eyes taking on a fevered sort of intensity. "That’s what makes it romantic!”

His face lit up as he warmed to the topic. It was, after all, one of his favourites. “If someone was willing to go that far and stage some kind of grand gesture in an effort to woo me, then I would know it must mean they really loved me. And I’d be perfectly content with that.” 

Taking in the gooey expression he was wearing, Marinette shuddered, her skin crawling at the mere notion. “I’m pretty confident that the idea of being forced to shave my head and run buck-ass naked down the Champs-Elysées would be preferable.” 

“And that is why you suck,” Adrien grumbled, crossing his arms and flopping back onto the cushions. 

"That is why I'm a realist." 

"More like a real pain in the ass..." He muttered under his breath. Marinette chose to ignore him, turning her attention back to the matter at hand. 

“Well, how about Crimson Peak then? I know for a fact that one has romance.” She suggested, very deliberately not mentioning the creepy ancestral home, ghosts, and sinister secrets that also made up a significant portion of the film's story. 

“No, no, no!” Adrien wagged a finger at her. “I know what you’re trying to do. Last time you convinced me to watch a scary movie with you I had nightmares for weeks.” 

Marinette sighed. 

Eventually, they managed to come to an agreement, deciding on an action film with a romantic subplot that Adrien deemed reasonably acceptable.

Reclining on what she fondly thought of as 'her' side of the sectional, Marinette proceeded to get comfortable, watching as Adrien did the same at the other end. 

Suddenly, she was struck with an idea. 

Eyeing him for a moment, she deliberated.

On one hand lay the potential for awkwardness and discomfort should she be rebuffed.

On the other, maximum comfort AND payback for the pain in the ass comment. 

High risk, high reward. 

Her mind made up, Marinette decided to take a chance, stretching her legs out as far as they could go before plopping her feet quite unceremoniously in Adrien's lap. 

His eyes darted up to meet hers, one blonde brow raised in silent question. Marinette held out her hands, palms up, giving him a half-shrug even as a cheeky grin threatened to split her face.

“What can I say? It’s the curse of having such long, luscious limbs," she batted her eyelashes at him. "I take up a lot of space.” 

Glancing down blandly, Adrien took in the way her legs were just barely able to reach far enough.

"...right." He said, his lips quirking to the side briefly. Then, with the slightest shake of his head, Adrien let his hands come to rest on her legs. 

“What are you doing?” Marinette stammered, tensing at the feel of long fingers encircling her ankles. The warmth of his hands was strange and unexpected, though not unwelcome.

And definitely not unpleasant. 

She became acutely aware of his fingertips absentmindedly caressing the sensitive skin above her heel, tracing the delicate point of her ankle bone. Marinette swallowed, deciding it was probably in both of their best interests that she not mention it.

Adrien began pulling her closer by the legs. “What if Félix were to walk in right now? He could technically come home at any moment, you know. And what kind of new couple sits at opposite ends of the couch when they’re watching a movie together?”

Marinette made a face, her nose scrunching up as she mulled it over. He'd raised a valid point. 

It would undermine their credibility somewhat—maybe even blow their cover entirely—if someone were to walk in right now and see them seated as far apart as physically possible on the same piece of furniture. Even though it was the same routine they'd had for years—and what they would have done, under normal circumstances—everything was different now that they wanted the world to believe they were suddenly madly in love. Marinette had to step up her game and stop making such rookie mistakes. 

Thankfully, Adrien seemed to be paying more attention to the details than she was. It helped that he was also more well-versed in these things. 

Perhaps there was some merit to watching that many romantic movies, after all. She bit back a smile. 

And so she let Adrien pull her forward, scooching her across the cushions until she was nestled beside him in the elbow of the sofa. She was all but pressed up against his side now, their feet stretched out in front of them. 

Her legs looked comically short next to his, the tips of her toes only just brushing the middle of his shins. 

And to think, at one point we were the same height... She mused, looking anywhere but in Adrien's direction. She could feel him fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable having her in such close proximity even though the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. 

Marinette, for her part, was doing her best not to squirm as she attempted to find a position for her limbs that felt natural. 

How do you even sit beside someone? She wondered, trying to figure out what to do with her arms and legs. Sitting beside a person had never felt like such a foreign concept before. Although it did make her feel marginally better to note that Adrien was obviously going through the same existential crisis beside her, shifting around just as much as she was. 

Finally, he stilled, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “You good?” 

“Mhm,” she nodded, comforting herself with the knowledge that any lingering weirdness would most likely wear off as time went on. They both just needed to relax and distract themselves with happier things. 

Like car chases. And explosions. 

Adrien pressed play, starting the movie. 

After a while, once the opening sequence had finished and they were well into the exposition, Adrien moved his arm, slowly settling it over her shoulders. 

Peeking up at him from under her lashes, Marinette tried to get a feel for what he was thinking. His face was smooth, eyes pinned forward, focused intently on whatever scene was taking place on the screen.

He looked relaxed and unbothered; the very picture of comfortable nonchalance. 

Hmm, in that case... 

Carefully, as though he were made of hand-blown glass, she let her head come to rest on his shoulder. 

From her current position, she wasn't able to see the look on Adrien's face, but she certainly felt his surprise in the way his body stiffened. It was a calculated risk, upping the stakes so quickly and without warning. Still, she couldn’t help but be curious to see how he would react.

It should be okay. After all, she reasoned, this was a normal thing that couples did, right?

Which meant there was absolutely no need to panic, she thought, already panicking. 

He's not doing anything. Why is he not doing anything?  Her brain chose that moment to oh-so helpfully supply her with the mental image of a disgusted Adrien pushing her away from his person, leaping up from the couch as though the whole thing had caught fire.

Oh god, did I push too far? Is this the final straw?

Then, like a switch had been flipped, she felt the tension bleed out of his frame, his hold on her tightening ever so slightly as he pulled her closer. 

Marinette let out a breath, unaware she had even been holding it in.

Immensely relieved, and comfortable at long last, she turned her attention to the television, more than happy to lose herself in the familiar formula of whatever B-list action movie they were watching.

Yet, some small part of her brain—a part that wasn't currently cackling as the protagonists once again defied the laws of physics to drive their sportscar through a goddamn skyscraper—remained fixated on the points of contact between them, hyper-aware of every single place where Adrien's body and hers were touching. 

His arm across her shoulders. Their sides pressed together, long and short legs intertwined.

Her ear against his chest, listening to the rapid staccato of his heart beating against his breastbone, an unwitting echo of her own.

-x- 

Chapter Text

“You know, there’s something I’ve been wondering about,” Marinette remarked later as the credits started rolling. 

Adrien hummed absentmindedly, already flicking through to find something else to watch. Since, in his words, the romance subplot had been "extremely subpar", she had agreed to let him choose their next movie. Based on the selections he was currently browsing, he intended to prove to her once and for all the merits of a good romantic comedy. If such things were to exist.

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t we see each other more often?” She asked, her phone lying forgotten in her hand.

She’d been scrolling through her feed—ignoring all of her message requests, as was the new norm—when she'd remarked upon the surprising lack of posts she and Adrien had made together over the past few years. There were a couple of photos here and there, mostly from birthdays and the occasional special event that Adrien invited her to attend. But really not that many. Quite a pitiful amount, actually. 

And the more she'd considered it, Marinette realized that outside of their summers on the lake, she could probably count on one hand the number of times they even saw one another in the run of a year.

She’d always just accepted that as a normal part of their dynamic, but it was kind of odd upon further reflection. They both lived in the same city—in the same neighbourhood, no less—yet most of the time it felt like they existed in two completely different worlds. 

“I’ve seen you almost every day for the past week. And we are literally sitting next to each other right now,” Adrien pointed out dryly, his attention still fixed on the screen. Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes. 

“No, I meant in general. When we’re in Paris.” She stared at him intently, trying to will an answer out of him with the power of her gaze alone. Adrien merely blinked down at her, giant question marks practically hanging visible above his head. 

You know, it's a good thing he's cute, Marinette thought with a sigh. Because there is not a single wrinkle on this boy's entire goddamned brain.

“Don't you think it's weird that you’re one of my best friends, yet I hardly ever see you?" She asked, determined to circle back to her original point while she still had his attention. "I always just assumed you were too busy with work, or travelling, or any of the million extracurriculars your psycho dad makes you do, so I didn't want to bother you. But it wouldn’t be that hard to stop by and say hello once in a while. You don’t live that far from me, after all.” Marinette tried to ignore the vulnerable feeling left in the wake of her words, not wanting to contemplate just how deeply some of her own insecurities might run. If Adrien noticed the way her voice wavered ever so slightly at the end of her phrase, he was thankfully too kind to point it out. 

For his part, Adrien appeared genuinely taken aback by the sudden shift the conversation had taken, his eyes wide as they darted over her features.

Marinette couldn’t blame him, really. Even she was surprised to find herself giving voice to the thoughts that had lingered—silently and persistently—at the back of her mind for so long. She had pretty much come to terms with the fact that she would never find the courage to speak them into being. 

And yet, there they were. It was done, and there was no taking anything back now.   

Swiveling to face her more fully, Adrien paused, as though he was having a difficult time getting his mouth around the words he wanted to form. 

“You know," he began haltingly, "I used to ask my driver to take the long way home, just so we could drive by your house. I was always hoping I might run into you, so that I'd have an excuse to stop and talk for a while.” He looked almost guilty at this admission, as though he was confessing to some sort of sin or transgression. His apparent shame only served to heighten her sense of bewilderment.

“Why didn’t you just come over?” Marinette asked, trying to wade through an ever-deepening well of confusion. Had she somehow made Adrien think he wasn’t welcome at her house, or that she didn’t want to hang out with him? 

Adrien's responding laugh was rueful. 

“I guess I just never wanted to see the look on your face when you realized that Félix wouldn’t be walking through the door after me.” His lips twisted, a brittle edge that she wasn't used to seeing settling into his expression. 

Oh. 

Marinette felt a stab of guilt shoot up between her ribs, lodging in the squishy parts beneath her breastbone. 

Mainly because she knew that, even as much as she might like to, she couldn’t completely deny his allegation. She probably would have behaved that way if Adrien had just happened to show up at the bakery out of the blue. She would have been elated to see him—of course—but she also would have had her eyes on the doorframe, waiting to see whether Félix was one step behind. 

“I would have been glad to see you,” she said, because it was the truth. Even if it wasn’t the entirety of it. 

“I know,” was all he said. 

Whether it was in response to what she had said, or what she very deliberately wasn’t saying, Marinette couldn't be sure. 

Either way, it was becoming increasingly clear that while Adrien knew her remarkably well—almost scarily well, judging by the way he seemed to at times be able to predict her thoughts before she even became aware she was thinking them—much of his mind and his innermost thoughts remained hidden from her, locked away behind walls and doors that would not open. 

Adrien knew her, inside and out, while Marinette only seemed to be learning how little she actually knew about him. 

It was a discomfiting thought, and one she had very little desire to continue dwelling upon. 

“Well, you can come and visit whenever you want,” she declared, gazing up at him in earnest. “You don’t even have to text and let me know in advance—consider this a standing invitation. Lord knows my parents have pretty much adopted you at this point, so they probably wouldn’t even blink twice at you showing up unannounced.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “I don’t know whether to be touched, or concerned that I’m some sort of stray cat your family has decided to take in out of the goodness of your hearts.” 

Marinette reached up and pinched his cheek. “How could we resist? You’re cute and housetrained. It was a no-brainer.”

To her surprise, Adrien simply gave her a beatific smile in response. 

“And just for that, I’m making you watch Mamma Mia with me again!” He snatched up the remote, pressing play and sitting on it before she could so much as react.

“OH MY GOD, SERIOUSLY?”

-x-

They were in the middle of the “Dancing Queen” number when Marinette heard voices coming from out in the hallway, growing closer by the minute. She lifted her head from where it had been resting on Adrien’s shoulder, turning towards the door just as Bridgette poked her head through. 

“Oh my gosh, I love this movie!” She cried, her whole face lighting up when her eyes landed on the TV. “See, I told you I could hear ABBA!” She directed this last part over her shoulder, bouncing forward into the room. Félix followed one step behind, his pace much more sedate.

Marinette tried to plaster a smile on her face. She doubted it was very convincing. 

“I believed you,” Félix eyed the way she and Adrien sat curled up together on the couch. Marinette did her best not to squirm. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing for the power of clairvoyance, if only to decipher what lay behind Félix Agreste's icy, inscrutable exterior. 

“These two are nothing if not predictable. How many times have you watched this film at this point?” Although his intonation was flat, the derision in Félix's voice was plain to anyone that knew him. 

It was in that moment that Marinette became aware she was still tapping her toes along to the beat of the song. She quickly stopped. 

Adrien’s voice was a pleasant rumble against the shell of her ear when he replied to his brother. “Hmm, I dunno... Probably thirty? Maybe more. I mean, you’d have a pretty good idea, since you were there for most of them.” Even though she wasn't looking in his direction, Marinette had no trouble picturing the smug smile on Adrien's face as he delivered this last line. 

Bridgette turned to Félix, dark eyes wide with surprise. 

“He’s lying,” Félix told her, shooting his brother a dirty look over her head. Marinette giggled, clearly catching the exchange from where she was seated. It felt much better to be in this position for once, rather than being the head above which all of these exchanges took place. 

Adrien squeezed her side, tickling her lightly. 

She laughed more loudly, torn between wanting to squirm away and not wanting to actually dislodge his grip. A peculiar conundrum. 

“No, it’s the truth,” Marinette managed to get out through her fits of laughter, trying in vain to fend off Adrien’s persistent, wriggling fingers. “Félix might say he doesn’t, but he loves this movie. I bet he knows every word.” 

Adrien barked out a laugh at the incensed look on his brother’s face, grinning widely down at her where she was slumped on the cushions. 

“Um, okay...?” Bridgette spoke slowly, her voice uncertain. Marinette tilted her head back, attempting to examine the other girl from upside down. It was hard to get a read on her facial expression from this angle—she did, after all, appear to be hanging from the ceiling like a giant bat—but Marinette would wager her expression fell somewhere between gentle bewilderment and outright skepticism. 

Marinette could relate. The men of the Agreste family were a lot for any normal human to deal with, after all. 

She decided to take pity on the other girl.

“When dealing with the Agrestes," she provided, meeting and holding Bridgette's gaze. "I've found it's best to never take anything they say at face value. Also note that they are all secretly softies, but will deny this fact until their dying breaths.” She delivered this last line with an air of solemnity, aware that her gravitas might be somewhat undercut by her current position. 

“Patently false.” “Hey!” Both brothers said simultaneously, varying degrees of rankled by her assessment. 

Marinette gave Bridgette a meaningful look. See? 

It was unclear how well it translated though, as she was still perched upside down on the couch. 

Figuring it was about time to turn things right-side up, Marinette flipped herself over, rolling to her feet in one fluid motion. She stretched, the bones from her mid-back all the way down to her feet letting out a series of intensely satisfying snaps and pops. Tilting her head to the side, she cracked her neck last. 

Ah, much better. 

“That is... moderately alarming for someone whose body is so young,” Félix lifted an eyebrow, looking both disturbed and impressed. “I felt that from all the way over here.” 

“What can I say? I’m mature for my age,” Marinette shot him a wink, plopping back down onto the cushions beside Adrien.

Or at least, she would have landed beside Adrien, had he not grabbed her at the last second, redirecting her trajectory.

Instead, she landed soundly on his lap, letting out a surprised "—eep!" in the process. 

Glancing over her shoulder, she did her best to discretely level him an unimpressed look.

Are you out of your mind? She widened her eyes ever so slightly, silently promising retribution should he be up to any funny business.

Rather than looking perturbed, however, Adrien simply smiled back at her, his angelic visage belied only by the devilish gleam in his eyes. 

Little old me? His expression seemed to say. Why, I've never had an evil idea in my entire life.

With an exasperated shake of her head, Marinette settled back, recognizing that resistance would: a) be futile and b) only risk drawing more unwanted scrutiny their way.

Might as well get comfortable now that I'm here, she concluded, reclining further into Adrien's warmth.

Noticing that Félix and Bridgette were still standing there awkwardly observing them, Marinette figured she ought to extend the proverbial olive branch. 

“Do you guys want to join us?” She offered, gesturing half-heartedly towards the other end of the sofa as she pondered the sudden wave of magnanimity that had overcome her.

A temporary mental break seemed the most likely cause. Or perhaps her brain had become addled because she was still riding high on the rush of endorphins that came from having a perfectly normal exchange with Félix.

As it stood, it had been several minutes since they’d arrived and Marinette had yet to do or say anything spectacularly awkward or embarrassing, which might have been a new record for her. By her standards, she'd managed to behave in an almost exceptionally normal manner. 

In fact, apart from the initial thrill that always accompanied an unexpected Félix Agreste sighting, her entire reaction to him so far had been remarkably… unremarkable.

Even though it was the first time she had seen him in days—and he looked incredibly handsome in his crisp white shirt, light grey pants, and matching sport coat—Marinette had been strangely unmoved by the sight of him.

Her heart had given a little thub-thub in her chest initially, and that was about the extent of it. 

All in all, a fairly tepid reaction, especially in comparison to the tingle she’d been experiencing with increasing regularity every time she met and held Adrien’s gaze for any length of time.

Maybe she had simply tired the poor thing out with the whole couch debacle from earlier, and her heart was still recovering. That was most likely it. 

Regardless, it was certainly an odd development, and one that she intended to spend more time analyzing and dissecting at a later date. Namely, when Félix and Bridgette weren’t both staring at her. And she wasn’t perched on Adrien’s lap, his arm wrapped snugly around her middle. 

“We don’t have to keep watching this. We can watch something else if you’d like,” she reached around Adrien for the remote, intent on finding something a bit more suitable for all four of them to watch. 

She was waylaid, however, by a sudden question from Adrien. 

“Did you guys just get back from a date?” He asked, unaware of the way his words had landed with the force of a lightning bolt.

Marinette's head whipped around with neck-cracking speed, her ponytail nearly taking his eye out in the process.

WHAT. She barely kept herself from hollering, wide eyes darting from Adrien to the two individuals in question, both of whom appeared as taken off guard as she was. A DATE????? 

Félix cleared his throat as Bridgette’s cheeks took on a rosy hue.  

As though seeing through new eyes, Marinette examined the two more closely, realizing that they were both dressed quite nicely. Hyperaware that the outfit she had meticulously chosen that morning was no doubt hopelessly wrinkled after spending the majority of the day on the couch, she raised a hand, self-consciously smoothing it over her hair. 

She eyed the way Bridgette's dark blue dress highlighted her figure, the deep colour helping to set off the tan she was building, making it look like she was glowing from within.

In other words, she looks very pretty, Marinette admitted rather begrudgingly to herself. 

She groaned internally, resisting the urge to facepalm.

Ugh, excellent way to show him what he’s missing, you dope! Why be with your beautiful girlfriend in her sexy blue dress when you could instead date the human equivalent of a grubby lawn gnome? 

“Yes,” Félix said, his brusque reply putting an abrupt end to Marinette's internal musings. 

“We went to dinner at Salvatore’s,” Bridgette provided after a beat, when it became clear that Félix had no intention of elaborating any further. 

Adrien shifted, leaning forward slightly with interest. “Oh, is that the new place down by the Palais?” Marinette twitched, fighting the impulse to turn and give him an incredulous look. Why the hell did he sound genuinely intrigued to hear about this?

What is he, running for Hostess of the Year or something? Marinette gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to hear any details about Félix and Bridgette’s date. Unless it was a detailed retelling of how horrifically it had gone, and how they had no intention of doing it ever again. 

“Yes!” Bridgette beamed, obviously pleased that Adrien the Betrayer knew which place she was referring to. 

“I’ve heard the food is really good there, but I haven’t had the chance to check it out yet," the blonde Brutus replied, oblivious to Marinette's growing ire. "The reviews online are generally pretty positive though.” 

“It’s really great actually," the cushions dipped slightly as Bridgette sat down at the other end of the couch. "We didn’t try any of the dinner selections, but the lunch menu was to die for!” To Marinette's chagrin, she then launched into a fairly detailed retelling of their experience. 

Seeing that his girlfriend clearly planned on being there for a while, Félix sighed, sinking reluctantly into a seated position beside her. Marinette didn’t know whether to be pleased he was staying or annoyed that he so clearly would rather be anywhere else. 

Turning her eyes back to the movie that was still playing on the screen, she let the rise and fall of Bridgette and Adrien's voices wash over her, tuning the finer details of their conversation out as she tried not to pout. 

It wasn’t long however before twin dinging sounds from Adrien and Félix’s phones drew the discussion to a halt, successfully dragging Marinette out of her strop. 

Both brothers exchanged a look, faces bleached pale in the light from their screens. 

“What is it?” She asked, turning to face Adrien more fully. He grimaced, flipping his phone over to lie face-down on the couch. 

“Looks like we’re having dinner." Adrien's lips were pressed in a thin line, his expression taking on a pinched edge.

"With my father.”

Wait. He can't possibly mean—

“‘We’ as in you two?” She tried, hoping against hope that her suspicions would not be proven correct.

Adrien moved his head from left to right; a single, slow shake. Marinette’s stomach sank.

“I hope you guys are hungry.” 

-x-

Chapter Text

“It has recently come to my attention that you both have some… news to share,” Gabriel intoned from where he sat ensconced at the head of the dining room table. 

Marinette did her best not to fidget, even as her brain worked furiously in an attempt to rationalize her current predicament. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even stepped foot in this room, let alone sat down for a meal at the long, stately wooden table. The kitchen and breakfast nook she knew inside and out, having eaten there more times than she could count. But the dining room? She came up blank, not a single instance springing to mind.

This room was like the elephant graveyard of the Agreste house—Marinette had known from a very young age that she was never to venture there.  

Yet there they were, she and Adrien seated to one side of the table, Félix and Bridgette on the other. The chandelier loomed forebodingly above their heads, its light reflecting off the smooth, polished surface that lay before them.  

This is going to be a goddamn nightmare, Marinette thought with no small amount of trepidation. Adrien was stiff as a board in the chair beside her, his shoulders bunched up nearly to his ears. Félix, as usual, was doing a much better job of hiding his anxiety than his younger brother. He'd managed to keep it almost completely hidden, apart from the index finger of his right hand, which he was repeatedly drumming on the shiny tabletop. 

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. 

That sight alone was enough to send her heart drumming in her chest, like the nervous fluttering of a caged bird. It was obvious that Félix wasn’t expecting this to go any better than she was. 

Poor Bridgette, on the other hand, remained completely oblivious to the impending slaughter, gazing around the dining room with childlike curiosity, as though this were any old regular family dinner. It made Marinette want to leap across the table, grab her by the shoulders and tell her to flee for the hills like her very life depended on it.  

Run, you fool! She wanted to yell. Run like the wind and never look back! 

Because, judging by the flat expression on the Agreste patriarch’s face, there was a very real chance this evening might end in bloodshed. 

“Félix, you have yet to introduce me to your guest.”

Marinette’s heart sank. Too late to escape now. 

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng I am already passably familiar with,” Gabriel’s icy blue eyes flicked briefly to rest on her and Marinette repressed a shiver, feeling as though the temperature in the room had suddenly dipped ten degrees. He turned his attention back to Bridgette. “But you, I don’t know.”  

“Bridgette Tran.” Bridgette extended a hand to him, evidently with the intent to shake. A gesture that was, in most circles, polite and completely acceptable. 

Gabriel merely stared at the offending appendage as though it was covered in slime. 

Bridgette’s arm wavered in midair until, at last, it fell back to her side. She ducked her head, but not before Marinette caught sight of her cheeks, which were burning a bright, vivid red.

Gritting her teeth, Marinette tried not to wince in sympathy. An effort that became more difficult when Adrien’s hand found her leg under the table and squeezed. She placed a hand atop his, not entirely certain who was comforting who at this point. 

The kitchen staff came in then, discreetly setting the first course in front of them. A bowl of some kind of artfully garnished pale green soup that appeared to have come straight out of the kitchen of a Michelin star restaurant. 

It smelled amazing.

Marinette wanted to throw up. 

There was a blessed lull in the conversation as they began eating. Marinette managed to choke down a couple of mouthfuls, waiting with bated breath for Gabriel to launch his next attack.

As expected, she didn’t have to wait long. 

“Tell me, Mlle Tran, what are you to my son?” 

Startled by the point-blank nature of his question, it was everything Marinette could do to not drop her spoon directly in her soup bowl. It still clattered somewhat inelegantly against the delicate china, causing Adrien’s father to shoot her an unimpressed look. She grimaced apologetically.

Table manners were big in the Agreste household; she had shared enough meals with them over the years to know this. Gabriel was a stickler for etiquette, more so than his wife had been. Meals had been much more relaxed and lighthearted affairs when she’d been around. 

Marinette averted her gaze, turning back to her soup like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. The last thing she needed was for anyone to catch on to the direction of her thoughts. This spur-of-the-moment dinner party was already turning out to be depressing enough, no need to play the whole Dead Wife/Mom card. 

She smiled grimly to herself. Maybe she’d save that one for the dessert course. It might help to really liven up the party. 

To everyone's surprise, for once it was Félix who saved Bridgette from answering a question. 

“Bridgette is my girlfriend, Father. As I'm sure you already know.” Félix met his father’s gaze evenly, no hint of doubt visible in his posture now. 

Adrien’s hand had turned into a vice-grip on her leg. With her thumb, Marinette rubbed soothing circles along the top of it, both to relax him and to encourage him to loosen his hold. She’d definitely be bruised at this rate. 

“Is that so?” Gabriel was stone-faced, his soup forgotten on the table in front of him. “And how long has this been going on without my knowledge?”

Bridgette’s eyes were as round as saucers as she gazed between father and son, quickly catching on to the fact that what she’d thought was going to be a nice dinner might, in reality, be their Last Meal. Gabriel had laid an excellent trap, and they’d all had no choice but to walk right into it. 

Clenching his jaw, Félix remained stubbornly silent, understanding that any information he provided to his father at this juncture would only wind up being wielded against him.

The staff came back through the room, sweeping away the remnants of the soup course and placing the main dishes down on the table. They hightailed it out of there as quickly as humanly possible, undoubtedly able to sense the black cloud hanging over the room and its occupants. It felt as though the spectre of Death himself had pulled up a chair and was happily munching on some popcorn as he observed from the corner. 

Unperturbed, Gabriel continued with the inquisition, not actually appearing to be very interested in hearing his son’s responses. “I would hope, for your sake, that it has not been long. That you have not been deliberately keeping such information from me, your father.” Taking his fork and knife, he cut into his steak with clinical precision. 

Marinette had yet to pick up her cutlery, too stressed and anxious to stomach the thought of eating anything else. The others were doing only marginally better than she was. Félix and Adrien had managed to finish about half of their plates, and Bridgette was close behind. Poking at her food, Marinette shoved a few spears of asparagus into her mouth, chewing woodenly.

In the most discreet and elegant way possible, of course, lest she enrage their host any further. 

The same host who appeared to be having absolutely no problem balancing his enjoyment of his meal with the simultaneous verbal evisceration of his children and dinner guests. It was a level of sophisticated brutality she had come to associate with Gabriel Agreste.

All he needs to complete the tableau are some fava beans and a nice chianti...  

Patting the corners of his mouth with his napkin, Gabriel began speaking again. “It is one thing to find out—through my assistant no less—that one of my sons has apparently chosen to enter into an… agreement, of sorts, with someone I do not know and have never heard of.” Here he threw a sideways look at Bridgette that caused Félix to bristle in his seat, his mouth opening in silent indignation.

Gabriel simply raised a brow at his eldest son, a silent challenge in his gaze. 

Félix's mouth snapped closed. 

“It is, however, quite another matter to find out that both of my sons have thrown themselves into amorous entanglements, and neither saw fit to bring it to my attention.” Now Gabriel’s eyes came to rest on their side of the table, and Marinette practically felt Adrien wilt beside her. If there was anything that Adrien hated above all else, it was the thought of disappointing his father. She laced her fingers through his, comforting him in the only way she knew how. 

“Ultimately, I suppose there is no point in forbidding you because you will do as you see fit,” he waved a hand dismissively. “But let me be clear: I will not tolerate being the last to know of these things again.” His eyes flashed.

Marinette tensed, the beginnings of a cold sweat breaking out on her temples.  

I would rather face the combined might of the FBI, CIA, and MI6 than deal with whatever methods Gabriel Agreste might have hidden up his sleeve, she thought, her breath hitching on what might have been a hysterical laugh. If she hadn’t known it before, she was absolutely certain now that she would do everything in her power to prevent Gabriel from ever discovering what she and Adrien were up to. It was paramount, both to their success, and their overall well-being. 

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt them. For now. 

“But enough of such talk. I have called you here this evening with the intent that we might all become… better acquainted.” Gabriel smiled, blue eyes glittering behind his thick-rimmed glasses. Although his words certainly sounded friendly enough, there was nothing of warmth or kindness in his expression as he beheld the four of them. "So please, enjoy your meals." He lifted his wine glass, toasting them all before taking a long draught. The rim of the glass did little to hide the smirk on his face. 

Marinette stared at him in disbelief. 

Of all the—seriously—? This—this sadistic son of a bitch!

This was not an open-armed, welcome-to-the-family moment. This was corporal punishment, plain and simple. Gabriel felt his sons had defied him, and he in turn had decided to humiliate them in front of their partners. It was cruel, cunning, and remarkably effective, judging by the way Bridgette’s face had paled to the colour of chalk, and Adrien and Félix had both become functionally catatonic.  

Marinette knew she probably looked no less thunderstruck. But strangely, the longer she sat with Adrien’s father like this, the less she felt afraid and the more she grew… irritated. 

Because Gabriel was being exceedingly unfair. To his sons, of course, but most especially to Bridgette, who seemed for all intents and purposes to be a perfectly nice girl—one who had only come in here with good intentions. Good intentions that Gabriel had basically torn up in front of her, before throwing the remnants back in her face. 

This girl came in here expecting to meet her boyfriend's father and instead came face to face with Satan himself. The thought left a bad taste in Marinette's mouth that had nothing to do with the food in front of her.

She succeeded in biting her tongue, but for the grace of God. Adrien’s tight grip on her hand was a lifeline—helping to keep her grounded, and preventing her from unloading on Gabriel for being a terrible host and a mean old bastard on top of all of it. 

It didn't prevent her from fuming silently though.

Would you look at that—Gabriel Agreste has once again secured the number one spot on my shit list! For the twelfth year in a row! Marinette glowered down at her plate resentfully. Him and his stupid fancy food and prissy table manners. 

And if she made it a point to loudly scrape and clank her silverware and dishes all through the dessert course—with the express purpose of annoying Adrien’s father—then really, who could blame her?

-x-

Chapter Text

“Oh my god, your dad is SUCH A DICK!”

Marinette kicked at a rock, launching it up into the air to land with a satisfying sploosh in the lake. She imagined it was Gabriel's head, attached or unattached to the rest of his body—it didn’t really matter, so long as he didn’t resurface. 

Her mind was prevented from wandering further down the path of her dark and intensely gratifying imaginings by the sound of Adrien’s glum voice. 

“I feel so bad for Bridgette.”

Marinette winced, remembering how the rest of their evening had played out. 

They’d finished the remainder of the meal in silence, and Bridgette had all but fled from the table when it was done, barely sticking around long enough to thank Gabriel for dinner before she was out the door. Félix had rushed out after her—but not before shooting his father a look of such abject loathing that it succeeded in causing Marinette’s breath to stutter in her chest. 

He had returned alone and dejected not long after, the sound of a car door slamming in the driveway enough of an answer as to Bridgette’s whereabouts. He’d disappeared upstairs before either she or Adrien could say a word to him. Not that there was really anything they could say. Other than to comment on how much of a horrendous prick Gabriel had been that evening. 

But—even if that would make them feel marginally better—it wouldn’t really do much to help improve the situation. 

So they’d both left as well, eager to escape from the house and its oppressive atmosphere. 

Thankfully the rain had let up. It was still gloomy and overcast, but the cloud cover appeared to be thinning in places, allowing hints of the approaching evening sky to peek through. The world around them was painted in shades of greyish blue as twilight deepened into dusk. 

They walked slowly in the direction of her house, tracing the edge of the full lake. Everything around them was lush and green, sated by the past few days of steady rainfall. 

“Even if Félix had warned her of what to expect, that was still… a lot. Even by your dad’s usual standards.” Marinette remarked, turning to look at him. 

“Yeah,” Adrien nodded, his eyes unfocused as he gazed out towards the dark blue mountains in the distance. “I just don’t understand why he has to be like this. I mean, we’re practically adults at this point, and he still treats us like we’re children.” His mouth quirked to the side briefly, as though he were biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Or maybe it's more that he considers us property. Assets to be controlled and maintained as he sees fit. Like we’re not even people at all...” By the time he'd finished speaking, his face looked tired—almost lifeless—and the sight made her heart hurt. 

Instinctively, Marinette reached out, trying to express what she was feeling but unable to find the words big enough, or meaningful enough to convey it.

I’m here, I’m with you, I’m listening. The words bounced around in her head like a mantra. 

But even that felt insufficient, like it didn’t go deep enough and couldn’t contain the breadth of what she was currently storing in her ribcage. 

Her hand connecting with his, she pulled Adrien closer, drawing him into a tight hug. It wasn’t for show because she thought someone might be watching, or for any reason other than a desperate desire to provide comfort. 

Adrien stiffened, clearly taken aback by the unexpected embrace. Then he was sagging forward, leaning heavily into her arms in a way that wordlessly assuaged any brief feelings of self-doubt she may have had. 

Dipping down, he rested his chin on her shoulder, his hands fisting in the back of her shirt as he held onto her like a lifeline. Marinette rubbed his back soothingly. 

“I know you feel bad hating your jerkface dad, and that’s okay. Let me assure you that it is fully within my capability to hate him enough for the both of us.” 

Adrien huffed out a laugh, his breath ghosting across the skin on the right side of her neck. A slow, lazy tingle meandered from her shoulder, spreading its ripples through the rest of her body until she could feel it humming all the way at the base of her spine. His lips were so close to the column of her neck... Marinette wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to close the distance or pull away.  

He chose the latter, drawing back ever so slowly. “Wouldn’t want you to have to go out of your way on my behalf or anything.” Adrien gave her a small smile, taking another step back and shoving his hands into his pockets. It was obvious he was aiming for flippancy, a valiant effort at diffusing the tension they were both feeling. 

Marinette let out a breath, very deliberately ignoring the flicker of what was DEFINITELY NOT disappointment that had followed on the heels of their newfound distance. It was probably for the best that he'd put a little space between them. As it was, she was sure he could hear her heartbeat from where he was standing, loudly hammering away in her chest. It had been a whirlwind couple of hours.

“What are friends for?” She plastered a smile on her face, falling into step with him as they began walking again. “If not for telling other friends' dads when they need to piss off and stop being such ginormous crapbags.” 

Adrien held back a branch, letting her pass in front of him as they crossed the property line between his house and hers. They came up along the edge of the lake, her family’s dock just visible through the brush. 

“On a more serious note though, I was surprised by how upset Félix seemed tonight. He looked like he was about to rip your dad’s head off at one point! He must really like Bridgette...” She scrutinized Adrien’s face as she spoke, trying to get a read on his reaction to see whether Félix had mentioned anything about his relationship to his younger brother. 

To her disgruntlement, Adrien’s expression retained its practiced blankness, offering her no hint whatsoever. 

“I can’t blame him. I don’t know what I would do if I were in his position.” 

“I take it your dad never behaved that way with Kagami?” Marinette asked, curious in spite of herself. 

Adrien shook his head, blonde hair falling across his forehead. “He has a reluctant respect for her mother, so the sentiment transferred I suppose. He never tried anything like what happened tonight, if that’s what you mean. Although they really only interacted a couple of times while we were dating.” He reached up, swiping his bangs out of his eyes.

“God, I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like when you get a girlfriend for real!” She shuddered. Perish the thought. 

Adrien flinched slightly, no doubt at the mental image. His father’s hypothetical wrath was so potent he couldn’t help but recoil, the poor thing. Although after what she'd witnessed earlier, Marinette couldn’t entirely blame him. 

“You know, tonight was brutal and I still feel like your dad went surprisingly easy on the two of us..."  She mused, her brow furrowing in thought. "Maybe that's cause he’s known me since I was in diapers...?” Adrien wasn’t facing her but she could see the discomfort in the lines of his body, his shoulders tight under the cotton of his designer t-shirt. He’d probably been mulling this dilemma over for years now. 

"Yeah, maybe..." 

“Honestly, I mean how are you ever going to manage to tell your dad when you’re in a serious relationship with someone if he insists on going all Mommy Dearest on you every time? What if he locks you away in a tower somewhere and makes you grow your hair long so he can use it to climb up and visit you?” She gesticulated wildly, caught up in her daydream scenario in which Adrien was a beautiful princess and Gabriel the manipulative and cruel witch who was keeping him captive.

She couldn’t quite figure out what her role would be in this fairytale fantasy—Prince Charming didn’t seem quite right, and neither did the part of Heroic Knight. Both of those parties always had a vested interest in rescuing the princess (for wooing purposes, duh), which she definitely didn’t. Maybe she was a simple peasant, a bystander who happened to live close enough to the tower to hear the princess periodically crying out for help...  

...Or maybe she was just a horse, trying to live her best life, eating grass and doing other horse stuff.

Marinette slumped. That seemed pretty fitting. 

“Why do I always wind up being a horse?” She grumbled, only realizing she’d spoken aloud when she watched Adrien’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. 

“...Right.” He didn’t bother to ask for clarification, thankfully. He’d been friends with her long enough to know that the inner workings of her mind were often a mystery, even to her. 

“I guess I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it,” Adrien said with a shrug, jumping up onto the wooden dock. It had been built by her grandfather many years before, and remained remarkably sturdy, even in spite of her father’s attempts at ‘maintenance’ over the years. 

“Wow! You guys still have this thing?” She followed his line of sight to her family’s jet ski, which was tied up next to the dock, thumping rhythmically against the side as the water ebbed and flowed. 

“Does it even still work? It’s practically a relic at this point.” Adrien leaned over as far as he could without falling in, trying to get a good look at the machine through the gloom. The sun had almost completely disappeared by now, a faint trace of light at the horizon line all that remained of the day. 

“Excuse you, have some respect for your elders!" Marinette scowled, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "I will have you know that up until very recently, she was still running like a dream." Here her expression faltered slightly. "But I think my dad might have been tinkering with something, because I haven’t been able to get her to start for the past couple of days... Mom and I have been discreetly trying to get someone in to have a look at her when my dad is out.” She gazed forlornly down at the watercraft, so sad and neglected in the water. “Fear not, my noble steed. You will live to ride again.” 

Adrien snorted. “I think it might be time to take this old girl out to pasture and invest in a newer model.”

Marinette gasped, appalled by the mere suggestion. She turned to the jet ski. “Don’t listen to him! I would never do that to you.” She whirled on him, poking a finger into his firm chest in mock-outrage. “How dare you even imply such a thing.”

Spinning around on the ball of her foot, she hightailed it for the porch. Her parents had been thoughtful enough to leave the light on, which was proving handy in navigating the slope of the lawn. It was starting to get really dark out now, especially with the moon hidden away behind the clouds. 

She heard Adrien following quickly behind her. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He exclaimed. Marinette would have been more inclined to believe in his sincerity if he hadn’t VERY CLEARLY been trying to swallow down a laugh. “I wouldn’t dare disrespect your... what did you call it again?” 

“Noble steed.” She supplied helpfully.

“Your noble steed,” Adrien repeated with a nod, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Marinette was relieved to note that the tired set to his face wasn’t as pronounced now. Good. She hated seeing Adrien down in the dumps and wasn’t above acting like a fool in order to get his spirits up.

She smiled widely, her previous 'ire' forgotten. “Apology accepted. Besides, you’re gonna eat those words. Once I get that baby back up and running and out on the waves where she belongs, it’s over for you hoes.”

“You’re on.” Adrien grinned down at her, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. 

They stood there, illuminated by the porch light, smiling at each other like idiots for several moments.

Then, something in Adrien's gaze shifted, a flicker of a spark that only grew the longer he stared into her eyes. 

Marinette bit her lip, hyper-aware of the way his eyes tracked the motion.  

“Well then,” she swallowed, doing her best not to stare at his mouth in return. She was mostly unsuccessful. “It’s getting late...”    

Adrien nodded. “It is.”

“You should probably be getting home. Before it gets too dark.”

Another nod. “I should.”

He made no move to leave though, seemingly content to keep staring at her in the low light, his eyes trailing over her features. His face was mostly in shadow, but the glimpses she did catch of his expression caused a fluttery sensation to break out in her stomach. 

He looked like he was thinking about kissing her. 

And Marinette was thinking about saying yes. 

“I guess this is goodnight then?” She squeaked, embarrassed at how breathy and high-pitched her voice sounded. Never in a million years had she expected that Adrien Agreste would be able to elicit this kind of a reaction from her. She felt tingly and giddy, like her heart was liable to burst out of her chest at any moment.

It was everything she had imagined being with Félix might feel like. Except this wasn’t a daydream. This was real and standing right in front of her, slowly leaning down to close the distance between their lips. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, waiting. 

This time, there was no phone call to interrupt them. 

Adrien’s lips brushed against hers, once, twice. Each touch was feather-light, barely there before it was gone again. 

Marinette knew he was teasing, testing her reaction. And her patience, which grew closer and closer to running out the longer he left her hanging. She was practically vibrating, the suspense only adding to the tingle that had become a near-constant presence whenever Adrien was in the vicinity. 

To hell with this, she decided, tilting her chin up and finally, finally capturing his lips in the kiss she’d been waiting for. 

Her hand slid up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through the soft strands of hair there. Even through her haze, Marinette couldn’t help but marvel at the silky texture.

Of course his hair has to be perfect too. Why am I surprised by anything at this point? For all she knew, his shampoo and conditioner probably cost six months of her allowance. She huffed out a breath through her nose, amused at the direction her thoughts had taken at a time like this. 

Adrien shuddered, his mouth opening slightly where it was still pressed against her own.

Oh, that felt different, Marinette thought, as her body sent an emergency alert bulletin to her brain that went something along the lines of:

!! 

? ? ?

!!!

For a brief moment, she wondered what Adrien would do if she gave in to her initial impulse, which had been to nibble on his bottom lip. Or her second impulse, which was to shove her tongue in his mouth.

Adrien's hands flexed against her sides—huh, when had they landed there?—like he couldn’t decide what to do with them. He settled for slipping them around her back, lacing his fingers together and resting them comfortably just above her tailbone. 

Whenever she had thought about kissing in the past, Marinette had always assumed this part would be awkward or uncomfortable. After all, the whole thing seemed like it was destined to be a logistical nightmare—a neverending saga of agonizing over what to do with hands, how to line up noses, whether to keep lips firm or soft; mouths open or closed. 

But kissing Adrien didn’t present any of those issues at all. It felt simple, instinctive. 

It felt right. 

And that thought alone was enough to cause Marinette to pull back in surprise, her eyes shooting open. 

Adrien’s eyes opened more slowly, the dazed look on his face visible even in the near-dark. 

She stepped back, desperate to put some space between them. When her legs wobbled precariously beneath her, Marinette looked down, betrayed by her own body’s reaction.

This is only supposed to be pretend, she told her legs, and the rest of the body they were attached to. No one said anything about actually enjoying making out with my best friend. 

“Alright, well, goodnight then," she began inching backwards. "Watch out for wild animals. And tree roots—those things will get you if you're not careful!” She let out a strained laugh, the sound so reedy and artificial it wouldn't have fooled even the most obtuse of kindergarteners. “Okay, be safe, text me when you get home, seeyoutomorrowBYE!” Raising a hand in a brief farewell, she didn’t give Adrien the chance to respond before she was darting through the front door, closing it firmly behind her. 

Marinette leaned against the solid wood, pressing a hand to her chest in an effort to calm her raging heartbeat. Straining her ears over the pounding, she listened intently for any signs of movement from outside. 

Finally, after what felt like several of the longest moments of her life, she heard Adrien’s footsteps thunking down the porch steps.

She deflated, all of the air in her lungs releasing in one great whoosh. 

Tiptoeing toward the window, Marinette watched from the shadows as Adrien made his way to the path between their houses, using the meager light from the flashlight on his phone to illuminate his way. 

And she remained there, her eyes fixed on that tiny pinprick of bobbing light until at last it was absorbed by the foliage and the darkness beyond.

-x-

Chapter Text

Marinette was happy to see that by Friday the rain had cleared up, the persistent cloud cover that had lingered over the past few days finally giving way to beautiful blue summer sky. 

This was excellent news, not only because she was tired of the dreary weather, but because it meant she could wear the outfit she'd initially planned for tonight’s festivities, without having to make any last-minute alterations. 

She smoothed a hand across the silky black material where it lay on her bed. 

She might not have been able to fully launch Stage Three of her plan as intended, but there was no sense in letting a perfectly good dress languish away in her closet unworn. 

Even if she was going to the party with Adrien—officially, as his girlfriend this time (!!!)—Félix would still be there. And this outfit might be just what she needed to make him realize what he was missing.

He’d be able to look, but not touch. 

And this dress, well... 

Marinette brushed it again, enjoying the feel of the soft, cool fabric under her fingers. 

It was practically made to be touched. 

-x- 

Adrien arrived to pick her up at seven o’clock on the dot. 

“You’re so predictable,” were the first words out of her mouth upon opening the door. 

“Uh, thanks?” Adrien looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be offended by her statement or not. 

“It’s a compliment, actually,” Marinette told him, slipping her shoes on. This time she hadn’t taken any impromptu midday naps, so she’d been left with plenty of time to get ready. She had timed herself based on the assumption that Adrien would arrive exactly when he said he would. 

Lo and behold, there he was, standing on her doorstep looking dapper and effortlessly handsome in a black cashmere sweater and dark jeans, a light sports jacket thrown over his arm.   

At exactly one minute after seven. 

Adrien blinked down at her, his brows lifting in surprise. 

“You’re ready to go?” He asked, appearing genuinely bewildered by the notion that she might be ready to go somewhere at the agreed-upon time. His apparent shock would have been annoying, if it weren’t indeed such a rare occurrence. 

Yet for once the stars had mysteriously aligned and Marinette had actually been ready ahead of schedule. She’d even had the time to triple-check her makeup, hair, and bag. 

“Yes,“ she replied primly, stepping out onto the doorstep and closing the door behind her. She turned, making sure it was locked. 

“Your parents aren’t home?” 

“Nope, they decided to go into town for dinner and a movie. Told me they wouldn’t be back until later.” 

“Wait, they still go on dates?” Adrien sounded delighted by this fact. “That’s adorable.”

Marinette couldn’t help but silently agree with him. It was kind of cute that her parents still behaved like a young couple in love, regardless of the fact that they’d been married for nearly twenty years. 

It became distinctly less cute, however, when they did embarrassing things like start getting handsy or even—oh god—full-on making out in front of Marinette and all the kids at her thirteenth birthday party. 

I will never live down the humiliation… 

Still, embarrassing or no, Marinette couldn’t help but secretly want to find a love like theirs. Someone who would love and care for her with the same intensity whether they’d been together for fifteen days, or fifty years. 

Her eyes caught and held Adrien's. A niggling thought pressed insistently at the back of her mind. 

“Oh, right.” She stopped, rummaging around in her bag until she found what she was looking for.

Palming the object in question, Marinette stood on her tiptoes, wrapping an arm around Adrien’s waist with a smile. 

A camera shutter clicked.  

“Uh, what are you doing?” He gazed at her in confusion.  

“As someone who gets their picture taken for a living, I would have thought it’d be more obvious,” Marinette said, her lips twitching even as Adrien elbowed her in the side, successfully dislodging her grip. 

“Ha ha. So funny.” He deadpanned. “Are you part-timing as a paparazzo now or something?”

Marinette snorted derisively. “Please. What do you take me for? I’m saving all my good material for the tell-all exposé I’m going to write about your life. You, my friend, are going to make me a very wealthy woman.” She shot him a wink. Adrien did not look amused.  

“Besides," she said, stuffing her phone back in her bag. "This one’s just for my mom. She made me promise to take a picture since she wouldn’t be here to see us off.” Rolling her eyes, Marinette didn't bother to check and see how the photo had turned out. She’d promised her parents a photo, she never said it would be a good one. She made a mental note to send it to her mom once they were in the car, or at some point later that evening. “You’d swear that we were going to some kind of red carpet event with the amount of fuss they were making earlier. Be thankful you got off with just a photo.”

“So thankful,” Adrien drawled, his serious expression belied by the twinkle in his eye, which told her that he was very much enjoying his own perceived hilarity. “I’ll even waive my usual fee, just this one time. As a favour for a fan.”  

“How magnanimous,” Marinette felt the corners of her mouth quirking up against her will. 

Adrien stepped forward, taking her bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Shall we, Princess?” He held out his other arm to her, relishing in his newfound role of fairytale prince. 

At the very least he looked the part, Marinette could admit to herself, eyeing the way his golden hair gleamed in the porch light, perfectly styled to look like he hadn’t spent any time on it at all.

Handsome, well-dressed, and wealthy to boot: what more could a girl ask for in a fake boyfriend? 

Slipping an arm through his, she didn’t bother to chastise him for his use of the dreaded nickname. 

It was kind of starting to grow on her, anyway. Not that she would ever, upon pain of death, let Adrien know that. 

The gloating would be insufferable.

-x- 

When they pulled up in front of the Bourgeois’ house, Marinette couldn’t help but snort. It was exactly what she had expected—just the average, if not somewhat modest three-bedroom family home. 

No, wait. That was the gardener's shed.  

In reality, the villa itself was gargantuan, stretching up into the early evening sky like a glowing megalith; a postmodern shrine to opulence and excess. 

“Glad to see they decided not to go too over the top with the décor,” she noted, examining the fountain at the crest of the driveway. It had to be at least three meters tall, carved from some kind of light-coloured stone that was very possibly real marble. It was difficult to tell though, since it was currently cycling through what appeared to be an elaborate and ever-evolving light show. 

It was a deep purple now, having been bright turquoise only moments before. 

“Very understated.” 

Adrien laughed. 

“You have no idea... Just wait till you see what they’ve done with the inside.” 

-x- 

Adrien was, of course, completely correct. 

If Marinette had thought the outside was a lot, the interior of the house was simply beyond comprehension. Everywhere she turned there was something gilded, gleaming or reflective. The floor was so dark and shiny that she could clearly see her own reflection in it, gawking back at her slightly bug-eyed. 

They made their way through the foyer arm-in-arm, not bothering to stop and talk to anyone, even though people were waving and calling out to Adrien. 

For the first time, it began to dawn on Marinette just how different this party experience was going to be from her previous ones. She had always been somewhat invisible at these things, content to hide in the shadows cast by the Agreste brothers' glow, comfortable and at ease in her anonymity. However, now that people knew—or at least seriously suspected—that she and Adrien were an item, she could feel eyes on her from all directions, poking and prodding like insistent fingers. 

It felt like she had stepped out from the wings and directly into the spotlight at centre stage. It made for a blinding and vaguely disorienting experience, Marinette noted, marvelling at how different the view looked from here. She was acutely aware of how people were staring, whispering lowly behind their hands as they passed. Adrien acted like it was all fairly routine, ignoring the attention as though he didn’t even notice it anymore. 

But Marinette did, catching some of the furtive looks being cast their way. Well, mainly her way. 

Suffice to say, they didn't look particularly friendly. 

Steeling herself, Marinette rolled her shoulders back, trying to project the same level of quiet confidence that Adrien was. 

That's right, girl! Never let them see you sweat!!

Her inner-Alya voice's encouragement, combined with Adrien's solid, comforting presence at her side had Marinette relaxing infinitesimally, her breaths coming easier.    

“Do you want to check your things?” Adrien’s voice broke through her musings as he paused at the edge of the foyer, where a makeshift coat check had been set up. 

Marinette moved to shrug her jacket off, recognizing that it was probably a good idea—after all, it would sort of ruin her look if she had to carry around her bag and bulky coat all evening. Unfortunately, it had been just a bit too chilly to go without it, but at least it complemented her outfit. 

Before she could fully pull her arms out of the sleeves though, Marinette felt Adrien’s hands gently slipping the fabric from her shoulders. 

“Oh, thank you,” she blinked, taken off-guard. It was such a gallant, old-timey gesture, yet one that felt strangely fitting when it came from Adrien. 

Well, I’ll be damned. That was actually kind of sweet. 

Instead of responding as she'd expected, Adrien merely let out a garbled noise from behind her. Concerned at what had caused such a strong reaction—it almost sounded as though he was choking—Marinette turned to him quickly. 

She found him staring past her, green eyes blown wide. Curious to see what—or perhaps who—had rendered him suddenly slack-jawed, Marinette peeked over her shoulder, attempting to be discreet. 

Only to jump about a foot in the air when she realized there was someone standing right behind her. 

The other person jumped as well, flinching back a step. 

Wait a minute… She watched the recognition dawn on her own face, reflected back to her in what had to be the largest mirror she’d ever seen. That’s me! 

Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. 

Feeling slightly silly, Marinette examined the wall in front of her, the majority of which was taken up by an immense piece of glass, stretching almost from floor to ceiling. It was a very impressive installation, she could acknowledge. It also happened to be very conveniently placed to showcase her back, which—apart from a few strategically placed straps—was almost entirely bare. 

Marinette caught Adrien’s eye in the mirror and winked. 

“Like what you see, handsome?” 

To her surprise, Adrien flushed crimson from the base of his neck all the way to the roots of his hair, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as no sound came out. 

Marinette laughed, delighting in his dumbstruck reaction. 

Oh, this is going to be fun.  

“Alright, lover boy," she said, squeezing his arm. "Let’s go mingle.”  

-x- 

They’d only just managed to get their hands on some drinks and find a place to sit when Chloe descended upon them like a swarm of locusts. 

A swarm of very sparkly, expensive designer locusts. 

“You!” She pointed an accusing finger in Marinette’s face. Marinette reared back in alarm because WHOA long sharp nails, very delicate squishy eyeballs. 

“And you!” Chloe whirled on Adrien, turning the full force of her ire on him. 

“Me?” They both asked, voices echoing in unison. 

The blonde practically had steam coming out of her ears. “What is—” she gestured between them, waving a hand as though she were casting a spell, or perhaps warding off a foul odour. “—this?” 

Marinette glanced at Adrien from the corner of her eye. He shook his head once, an almost imperceptible motion. She read the message behind it loud and clear though. 

Whatever you do:  DO. NOT. ENGAGE. 

The silence stretched on. 

“Are you. Or are you not. Dating?” Chloe bit out at last, her eyes flashing with an unholy blue fire.  

“We are,” Adrien answered, his voice firm. 

Chloe looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. One she found to be particularly repugnant.  

“You can’t be serious. This must be some kind of sad little joke.” She eyed the way they were sitting, Adrien’s arm casually thrown over Marinette’s shoulders, hers wrapped around his waist. 

She looked appalled. 

“Oh my god,” she said faintly. “Oh my god.” 

Chloe sank down onto the chair beside them, her glittering skirt flaring dramatically around her. She placed a hand to her forehead, looking like she was one second away from summoning a servant with her smelling salts.

“And I was just supposed to find this out at the same time as everyone else? From some stupid little picture on the internet no less?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!” 

Her eyes zeroed in on Adrien, narrowing to slits. “Are you telling me that you finally worked up the nerve to tell her? Weren’t you the one who was complaining just the other day that—”

Adrien surged to his feet, grabbing Chloe by the arm and hauling her up as well, causing whatever she'd been saying to choke off abruptly. Marinette fell back against the cushions, suddenly off-balance now that Adrien’s body was no longer beside her. 

“I HAVEN’T SEEN YOUR VERY IMPRESSIVE SHOE COLLECTION IN A WHILE?” Adrien asked, his voice much louder than normal. “YES I WAS, CHLOE, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REMINDER. LET’S GO DO THAT. RIGHT NOW.”

Watching as Adrien hightailed it out of the room with an increasingly incensed Chloe in tow, Marinette could do nothing but gape. 

“No, that’s okay,” she said to no one in particular. “I didn’t want to come or anything. Don’t mind me.” 

She glanced around, suddenly finding herself alone in a room full of strangers. 

None of whom appeared particularly friendly. 

Well, isn’t this just swell... 

-x-

Chapter Text

Chloe and Adrien’s hasty exit hadn’t only left Marinette adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces, it had also left her with several burning questions. 

Their whole exchange had been incredibly suspicious, and Marinette couldn’t help but be uncomfortably reminded of her conversation with Alya from earlier that week, and the remark she'd made about there potentially being other plots afoot.

A seed of uncertainty had been planted, and Chloe’s half-finished statement had provided the food and water it needed to spread its insidious roots just a little more deeply.

Marinette stared unseeingly down at her drink, thoughts a-whirl as she contemplated what exactly Adrien might need to 'work up the nerve' to tell her.  

Unbidden, her mind flashed with an image—the snapshot it had taken of Adrien’s face in the moments before he'd dragged Chloe from the room. The expression was there and gone in an instant, but because she'd already been looking, she’d seen it clear as day.

The burst of panic in his eyes, the vaguely guilty tilt of his brows—all but incontrovertible proof that Adrien was, in fact, hiding something. 

Marinette shifted in her seat, ill at ease and increasingly self-conscious now that she found herself alone, deep behind enemy lines, with reinforcements nowhere in sight. 

“Guess I’ll just wait here then. By myself...” She muttered under her breath, taking a long sip from her drink. “This won’t be humiliatingly awkward in the slightest.”

-x- 

She sat there for about twenty minutes before someone dared to approach her. 

Having long since finished her drink, Marinette was silently debating the merits of retreating to the kitchen in search of another when a voice came from her left. 

“Excuse me, are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

She turned, taking in the group of girls standing at the edge of the couch. She didn’t recognize any of them, but they certainly fit the overall vibe of the party.

Young, fashionable, attractive. 

And peering down their noses at her.

Marinette withheld a sigh. Here we go. 

"Can I help you?" She asked, bracing herself for whatever was to come next. 

“My friends and I were actually wondering if you could help settle a bet for us.” The girl who had originally spoken stood front and centre, elected the de facto leader of their little posse most likely on the basis of bravery. Or perhaps, Marinette mused, recognizing the hard glint in her eye, it had been a merit-based promotion awarded for ruthlessness on the battlefield.  

Either way, the other girl was as beautiful as she was intimidating; her red hair shiny and pin-straight where it rested over her shoulders, her figure tall and statuesque like that of a model. She positively loomed above Marinette, who at that point was idly wondering whether it would even do her any good if she stood to face her opponent down. 

The only way we’d probably be on eye level is if I got up on the couch, Marinette noted with chagrin, envying the taller girl her strategic height advantage.  

Evidently mistaking her apprehensive silence for acquiescence, the redhead continued speaking. 

“My friend here—” she gestured with a thumb to the doe-eyed brunette beside her, who appeared torn between condescension and embarrassment; an emotional smorgasbord that, unfortunately for her, mainly left her looking like a very sullen baby deer “—wanted to know whether the rumors were true. Are you really dating Adrien Agreste?” 

Ah. 

Their gazes were intent on her now, honed in and searching for any hint of weakness. Marinette didn't even need to look to know that everyone within hearing distance of their conversation was also listening in—the way the chatter around them had slowly petered off was a dead giveaway. 

People could clearly scent potential drama brewing, and no one wanted to miss a second of it. 

Vultures, the lot of them. 

Internally Marinette shook a fist at the sky, cursing Adrien to the high heavens for abandoning her in order to confab with Chloe. She could really use the diplomatic immunity that came with his celebrity status right about then. Instead, she had to settle for saying, “Pardon?” as though she hadn’t very clearly heard and understood the redhead's question. 

It didn’t have the desired effect though. Rather, it caused the other girl to smile widely, a sense of smug satisfaction practically oozing out of her pores. 

“See, I knew it wasn’t true,” she said, sharing a look with her companions. “I told you there was no way that Adrien would ever date someone like her... They’re obviously just friends.” 

“Or maybe she’s a charity case.” Someone muttered under their breath, their half-assed attempt at subtlety carrying quite easily to Marinette’s ears. 

And to those of the people standing around them, judging by the tittering in the crowd. Marinette felt herself flush, heat creeping over her along with a sense of dread. 

Do not give these harpies the satisfaction of reacting! Her inner-Alya voice coached her. That is exactly what they want!!! 

Looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, the redhead leered down at her, most likely waiting for Marinette to embarrass herself by pitching a fit or fleeing from the room in tears. 

Which, Marinette decided then and there, she absolutely would not be doing. 

Instead, rather than reacting outwardly, she took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly through her nose as she reclined in her seat. Crossing her ankles neatly in front of her, Marinette attempted to project the image of someone who was as relaxed and at ease as a queen holding court.

Doing her best to channel Chloe Bourgeois’ particular brand of Bitch, she raised an eyebrow in what she hoped was an imperious manner. 

“I'm sorry, have we met?” 

The girls blinked as one, glancing uncertainly amongst themselves in the face of her non-reaction. 

“Um, no?” The cranky Bambi-faced one answered. 

“That’s so odd…” Marinette tilted her head slightly, adopting a look of innocent confusion as she put a finger to her chin in thought. “I could have sworn I’d met most of Adrien’s friends... How do you all know one another?”

The redhead faltered, taken off guard by the question. 

“I mean, we don’t technically know him, but—”

Gotcha.

“Oh. I see.” Marinette let her lips curve up in a slow smile, making eye contact with each girl in turn. “I just figured you must be friends of Adrien’s, since you’re so concerned about his personal life and all. My mistake!” She made a point to turn up the wattage of her smile until it bordered less on anything resembling amicability, and became more of a territorial baring of teeth. So it's none of your damn business then, is what you're telling me. 

Her expression appeared to effectively get the message across, judging by the increasingly nervous shifting in their ranks. It seemed like the redhead and her merry band of miscreants might finally be clueing in to the fact that this interaction wouldn't be ending as favourably as they had hoped. 

Well tough shit for them, Marinette thought with a flash of vindictive pleasure. She had no intention of just rolling over and letting them walk all over her like a ratty old doormat. Normally she made a point of trying to give everyone the benefit of the doubt—treating others with politeness and kindness even if it felt like they might not deserve it—but she knew people like this. These girls were bullies, plain and simple. And they would always be on the hunt for other victims; people who might not be as confident or as capable of sticking up for themselves. 

Therefore it was up to Marinette to put them in their place, regardless of whether the numbers were on her side. Things might not work out in her favour, but she had to try nonetheless. 

"I'm not usually in the habit of sharing Adrien's secrets with people who are—" here she gave them a loaded look "—outside of his friend group, as it were, but since you're all here I suppose Adrien might forgive me for spilling the beans just this one time."

Marinette leaned in as though she were taking them into her confidence, pretending to be oblivious to the way the rest of the room's occupants were clearly hanging onto her every word. The girls responded in kind, swaying towards her seemingly in spite of themselves.

“I'm sorry you had to come all the way over here just for me to disappoint you, ladies, but I will have you know that Adrien Agreste is very much taken.” Marinette rose slowly to her feet, maintaining eye contact with their ringleader as she delivered her next line. "Not that it's any of your business either way." 

“Now, if that was all, you’ll really have to excuse me," she said, rattling the ice cubes around in her empty glass. "I’m going to get myself another drink... All this girl talk has left my throat parched. Ta!” She gave them a jaunty little wave that she knew bordered on insolent, and made to leave.

From the corner of her eye she saw the redhead reach for her, her beautiful face bright red and twisted in an ugly snarl. “Hey wait a minute, bitch—”

Adrenaline spiking, Marinette barely had the chance to register what was happening before she found herself being pulled out of harm's way, and back against a warm, firm body.

“No need to go anywhere, Princess. I’ve got you covered.” Adrien's hand danced across the skin of her bare back, long fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She fought the urge to shiver.  

Marinette turned to him, her face breaking out in a genuine smile as she accepted the drink he pressed into her hand. “Your timing, as always, is impeccable.” Thank god you're here, she willed the message to him with her eyes alone, trusting that Adrien would pick up on her gratitude for the timely intervention. You just saved my ass—literally AND figuratively.  

As though in response to her unspoken statement, Adrien pulled her more tightly against him, nestling her into his side. Marinette felt the last of the tension she'd been carrying drain out of her body as the scent of Adrien's cologne and his familiar, steady presence washed over her. 

“Is there a problem here?” His eyes were fixed on the gaggle of girls in front of them, face frozen in a smile that was as artificial as plastic, and just as devoid of sincerity. 

The girls for their part appeared to be panicking now, gobsmacked by the fact that Adrien Agreste himself had appeared before them in the flesh, and visibly unsettled by the iciness of his stare. The redhead stammered incoherently in response to his question, floundering as she tried, and failed, to come up with some kind of excuse. 

“I think they were just leaving,” Chloe stated flatly, coming to stand at Adrien’s other side. “They’ve overstayed their welcome.” 

One of the girls burst into tears on the spot. The rest could only stand there, shamefaced. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Chloe waved a hand dismissively in their direction, dispersing the redhead's entourage like a cloud of flies. “Buh-bye! See you never.” 

They fled almost instantly, leaving their spokesperson behind with nary a glance. The redhead remained frozen in place, apart from her mouth, which was opening and closing repeatedly like a fish.

Chloe stepped forward, placing herself bodily in front of Adrien and Marinette. “Let me make myself perfectly clear: you came into my house, tried to attack my friends... I don’t ever want to see you again—in my house, on the street, anywhere. You see me, you go in the opposite direction. Capiche?” 

She was right in the girl’s face now, her high heels putting them nearly at eye level. 

“Get. Out.”  

And she did. 

Chloe tossed her hair, not bothering to watch the other girl leave, turning instead to the rubberneckers still standing around. “Show’s over, people. Either move it along or start lavishing me with praise if you’re gonna keep gawking.” 

The crowd began to disperse, disappointed at having their fun interrupted. As the party began to pick back up around them, Adrien leaned down, canting his head toward her. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, his breath dancing over the shell of her ear in a way that caused even more goosebumps to break out across her skin. His fingers were still splayed against her lower back, leaving trails of happy, distracting tingles along the base of her spine. 

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Marinette tried to reassure him. In reality, what came out of her mouth was something more along the lines of: “Da wa, fime nine.” 

She pulled away, the dual sensation of Adrien's hand on her skin and his breath in her ear doing funny things to her thoughts. It left her brain muddled, the words she wanted jumbling around and tumbling through her head like they were trapped in a washing machine. 

Adrien’s face was still very close, his eyebrows quirked in a mixture of amusement and concern. 

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I had no idea that anything like this would happen here," he sighed, straightening to rub at his temples. "It never even occurred to me—and then I left you alone...” Eyes flicking away from hers, Adrien looked like he was about one second away from full-on self-flagellation. Wanting to pre-empt any overblown and unnecessary acts of penance, Marinette reached out, pulling his hand away from his face and forcing him to meet her gaze. 

“Adrien, it’s fine. They were just a bit rude, that’s all. Nothing I haven’t experienced before... I’m fine, really,” she insisted, her eyes boring into his as she tried to drive the message home. “They were harmless.”

“I don’t know about that,” Chloe drawled, stepping up beside them. Marinette had almost forgotten she was even there. “For a second there I thought that redheaded bitch was going to rip your arm off and beat you over the head with it.” She gave Marinette a once-over, an emotion that on anyone else might have passed for respect flashing through her eyes. 

“Well done, Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette paused, unsure whether to be flattered or concerned that she’d committed an act foul enough to have earned the Chloe Bourgeois Seal of Approval. 

“Uh, thanks... I think.” 

"Don't get used to it," Chloe sneered, although Marinette couldn't help but note that it lacked its usual bite.

Before she could think on it further, Chloe had turned to Adrien, her expression softening as she leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Then without further ado, she was flouncing off in a cloud of gold chiffon, loudly exclaiming to anyone who would listen that she was far too in demand to waste all of her precious time with them and that they'd just have to do their best to get on without her. 

Which left Adrien and Marinette alone once more.  

In a manner of speaking at least.

They were alone apart from the fifteen to twenty other people still in the room, all of whom were staring at them unabashedly, cataloguing their every move as they gossiped about the events of the last ten minutes.

Marinette knew how these things worked. By now word had almost assuredly begun to spread, and it would take no time at all for the story to reach every corner of the house, and quite possibly beyond. She could already picture the headlines:

Extra! Extra! Fisticuffs Fly As Fashion Family's Favourite Face And Free-Wheeling Floozy Fight Off Flock Of Foam-Mouthed Fanatical Fangirls 

And if it did go public—which it inevitably would, knowing her luck—then Gabriel Agreste would almost certainly have her killed in her sleep before the week was through, which meant that she should really be out enjoying her last few moments on God's green earth to the fullest, not standing around being gawked at like a lizard in a pet shop window. 

“You, uh, wanna go somewhere else?” Adrien widened his eyes at her significantly. 

As in literally anywhere that isn’t here, right now. 

The silent meaning was not lost on her.

“Please god yes,” Marinette breathed, the words coming out in a rush. 

-x-

Chapter Text

As the party went on, Marinette began to let her guard down, losing herself in the flashing lights and thumping bass beat of the music as she danced the night away with Adrien.

Which, in hindsight, proved to be a mistake; one she really should have anticipated considering whose house she was currently in.

But alas, her complacency inevitably came back to bite her in the ass in the form of one Chloe Bourgeois, who cornered her the moment she was alone. 

She was queuing for the bathroom when the blonde terror swooped in, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her in the opposite direction. 

“Hey!” Marinette cried, trying to pull away. “I kind of need to get in there...” She looked back towards the bathroom with dismay. She’d just spent the last fifteen minutes waiting and her bladder was nearly full to bursting. She would have been at the front of the line now if it weren’t for Hurricane Chloe’s untimely intervention. 

Chloe merely scoffed, hauling her with a surprising amount of strength towards a less crowded area of the house. 

“Now that you’re dating an Agreste you can’t be seen doing something as pedestrian as waiting in line,” she sniffed disdainfully, making for a door at the end of the hall. "Only plebs wait in lines."

This must be where the personal quarters are, Marinette realized, as Chloe shoved her through the doorway into what appeared to be her bedroom, based on all of the glittering gold details. 

“The bathroom is to the right,” was all she said, before proceeding to the gilded vanity in the corner, where she began touching up her lipstick.

In spite of her misgivings, Marinette went about her business quickly, too preoccupied and frankly desperate to care about the blonde's intentions at that very moment.

When she emerged from the bathroom, however, she was not at all surprised to find Chloe lying in wait. 

“I had a feeling there might be more to this than a simple act of charity...” She quirked a brow, taking in the way Chloe stood across the room, arms crossed, blocking the only path to the exit.

“Clearly you have some grievance you would like to air,” Marinette spread her arms wide, deciding it was better to rip off the bandage than remain trapped, waiting on tenterhooks for whatever the blonde had to say. "So let’s have it then. What could possibly be so pressing that you had to drag me all the way here to tell me?"

“Adrien let me in on your little plan.”

Chloe's statement drew Marinette up short, her thoughts screeching to a halt as the words registered. 

.............Adrien did WHAT NOW??? ??

She gaped at the blonde in horror. One conversation with Chloe and suddenly Adrien was singing like a canary? Their pretend relationship was never going to work at this rate, not if Adrien went around spilling the beans to anyone who so much as lightly questioned him about it!  

“He told you everything?” Marinette asked, unable to keep the betrayal from bleeding into her voice. 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Spare me the whole ‘Et tu, Brute?’ routine, okay? You really shouldn’t give him too much of a hard time. I can be very... persuasive... when I want to be.” She admitted, a glint entering her eye. 

Marinette shot her an unimpressed look.

“You threatened him, didn't you.” It was not a question. 

Chloe simpered. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Then her expression shifted. “For the record, I tried to talk him out of it. But that simpleton insisted—blathering on about ‘honouring his commitment’ and ‘seeing this through to the end.' Which is why I’ve been left with no choice but to appeal to you directly.” 

She stalked across the room, getting right up in Marinette’s personal space. 

“Do not do this.” Chloe’s face was completely serious, bordering on grave. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you do with your life and your time, but dragging Adrien into this hot mess of a situation is unacceptable. Rethink this. Please.” 

Marinette's jaw went slack.

In all of the years she'd known Chloe Bourgeois, she had never once heard her use the word please. Until that moment, Marinette hadn’t even been aware the word was part of her vocabulary, let alone that she knew how to use it in a sentence.

Chloe must have been far more serious about this than she'd originally thought, if she was willing to resort to such drastic measures. For Chloe, genuinely saying please was the equivalent of prostrating herself before someone in supplication—it was virtually unthinkable. 

And yet, there they were. 

Still, despite her uncharacteristic sincerity, Marinette could only shake her head in response to the blonde's plea. “I’m sorry, Chloe, but without Adrien, I have no hope of making this plan work at all. I just… I can’t give up without trying. I just can't.” Until Adrien told her he wanted out, Marinette planned on continuing full steam ahead, regrets and misgivings be damned. She had more riding on this than either of them could possibly know.  

“I figured as much.” Chloe’s expression hardened, sharpening at the edges as her anger honed her next words into a blade. “Make no mistake, Dupain-Cheng. Adrien is too good for you. You know this, I know this. The only one who remains too dumb to realize it is, unfortunately, Adrien himself." 

"So since you’re too selfish and pigheaded to prioritize his well-being and call this whole thing off, all I will say is this,” Chloe’s blue eyes were frosty even as they burned into her, her finger pointed directly in Marinette's face. “If you hurt him, or break his heart, I will end your miserable little existence before you can even so much as blink. If you run, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth... And I will make you suffer.” 

Marinette eyed the blonde speculatively, noting the red flush that had overtaken her skin, and the way her hands were trembling under the force of her rage. There was no question that Chloe meant every word of what she was saying, and that she was willing to go to hell and back if it meant protecting Adrien. 

After examining her for a moment longer, Marinette inclined her head, holding her hands up between them. “If I hurt him, then I deserve it,” she said simply, shoulders raising in a half-shrug. “I would expect nothing less honestly.”

In fact, if it had been anyone else in her position, Marinette would have been right there beside Chloe, threatening their very life and limb. She cared deeply about Adrien after all, more than she could even put into words. The thought of hurting him made her insides twist, as though they were shrivelled up and wilting. It was the last thing she ever wanted to do. 

But it shouldn’t happen, she reminded herself, not if they stuck to their agreement. They were in this for a bit of lighthearted fun; a no-strings-attached summer romance that would hopefully lead them both to their desired end results. There were no real feelings involved and thus, minimal risk of complications. 

Chloe nodded once, tightly. 

“Good.” 

And that was as close to an agreement as they had ever come. 

She stepped to the side, allowing Marinette a clear path to the exit. 

“I had a feeling that our newfound ‘friendship’ might be a short-lived one. Although I’d say the fact that it lasted over an hour without any death threats exceeded all of my expectations.” Marinette remarked dryly as she passed, pausing in the doorway to look back at the blonde. 

Chloe smirked in reply. 

“What can I say? I’ve been busy. It’s not easy being an excellent hostess, you know.” 

-x- 

As Marinette made her way back through the party to where she’d last left Adrien, she was acutely aware of any looks she was getting, feeling the weight of people’s gazes on her even more than she had earlier. 

Am I ever going to get used to this? She wondered, somewhat desperately. If she did wind up getting together with Félix, did that mean she would be expected to deal with stuff like this forever? It seemed like a particularly heavy burden to bear when she contemplated a lifetime of having to do it. 

Luckily though, word seemed to have gotten around about the verbal smackdown Chloe had meted out earlier, because no one was brave enough to approach her again or say anything even vaguely disparaging within hearing distance. This meant she was able to move through the crowds quickly and relatively unencumbered. 

Still, it was somewhat of a relief to make it back to Adrien unscathed. He caught her eye from across the kitchen and immediately made a beeline for her. 

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he steered her away from the thick of the crowd, finding a place where they would be able to speak more freely. 

“You’re not going to believe this.”

Adrien was all a-flutter, his eyes darting this way and that, making sure there was no one around who might be listening in on their conversation.   

“What?” She asked, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, taking in the wide-eyed look on his face with no small amount of trepidation. “What’s going on?”

“Félix and Bridgette just got here,” he hissed, keeping his voice low. 

“Okay...” That wasn’t anything they hadn’t planned for. If anything, they were counting on the two of them being at the party. Which made Adrien’s reaction all the more puzzling. “...is that not a good thing?” 

Adrien shook his head back and forth. “No, no, no, listen. They got here together. And apparently—according to what I’ve been overhearing—Bridgette happens to be sporting a very large, very expensive looking diamond bracelet on her wrist.” 

Marinette’s eyebrows drew together, her mouth falling open. No way. “You don’t think—?”

“Félix bought it for her? Oh, almost certainly.” Adrien nodded, confirming her suspicions. “It has big ‘Fuck you, Dad’ energy.”     

God.  DAMNIT. 

She and Adrien were the only two at the party—apart from Félix and possibly Bridgette—who would have any idea about the true meaning behind the gift. It had most likely been given in an attempt to make amends for Wednesday night's disastrous Dinner Party From Hell, which was ironic, since buying forgiveness through material means was a move pulled straight out of the Official Guide to Shitty Parenting, written by Gabriel Agreste himself. 

The bracelet would no doubt serve as another giant 'F-U' to Gabriel, on top of showing everyone else that Félix and Bridgette were dating seriously enough to be giving and receiving expensive gifts. 

Marinette would have said it was a brilliant, masterful play on Félix’s part if she wasn’t too preoccupied thinking about how much of a complete and total disaster it was for her and Adrien.

“This is all anyone’s been talking about, isn’t it?” She asked, already afraid to hear the answer. If everyone at the party had been talking about Félix and Bridgette, then that meant the attention had effectively fully been pulled from the two of them, completely eclipsing their ‘official’ debut as a couple. 

They had counted on having the spotlight for longer, to create the proper window for maximum tongue-wagging, all in hopes of producing as much envy as possible. Or at least this was true on Marinette’s end, specifically with regards to Félix.

But they hadn’t accounted for something like this. Félix and Bridgette arriving together was somewhat of a foregone conclusion. Bridgette flaunting an ostentatious, overpriced apology gift on her wrist, though? 

“This is bad news.” Marinette looked at Adrien, hoping against hope that he had some glimmer of a silver lining to point out on this unwelcome raincloud. 

He only shrugged. 

“Yeah, people pretty much haven’t shut up about it since the two of them walked in.”

Marinette gnashed her teeth, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

They had been thoroughly and quite ruthlessly upstaged, the wind ripped unceremoniously from their sails. 

All because Adrien’s dumbass brother decided to wake up this morning and choose violence.

“Damn it, we didn’t plan for this!” She cursed, slapping a palm to her forehead. “Why the hell did your brother decide to enter into his rebellious teen phase now of all times?” 

And since when did he start giving out fancy and expensive presents to girls? Marinette bit back that thought with a stab of envy. She could count on one hand the number of gifts Félix had given her, and they were all joint presents with either his brother or the rest of their family that he had put little to no effort into picking. 

But there would be time to stew on her resentment later. For now, Marinette nibbled on her lower lip, glancing at Adrien worriedly. “What can we do to get the attention back?” 

Adrien’s face was pensive, his eyes narrowed as he too furiously tried to come up with some kind of a solution to their dilemma. 

Suddenly he blinked, holding up a finger as his gaze focused in on her. 

“Did you bring that thing I mentioned earlier?” 

Marinette paused, staring back at him blankly as she tried to keep up with his train of thought. 

Then, as though a lightbulb had gone off, she clued in. 

“YES, THAT’S IT!” She cried, squeezing one of his arms. She had to hold herself back from doing anything more, as her first instinct had been to throw her arms around him and plant a big ol' kiss on his lips. Which might have been a tad overzealous. “You beautiful, brilliant, diabolical little man. That is perfect!” 

I guess the ‘slippery bastard’ gene must run in the Agreste family... She mused, her lips stretching into a grin, one that Adrien was quick to match. Although she had originally hoped they wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures for success, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the apparent genius of his plan. 

Even if the thought of going all-in left nervous butterflies swirling in her stomach.

It was time to step their game up. 

It was time for Stage Two: Bikini, the Redux. 

-x- 

Chapter Text

Adrien was leaning against the wall outside the bathroom waiting for her when Marinette finished changing. 

In addition to her bikini, she’d brought along a matching sarong, which she’d left loosely tied around her waist. Before walking out the door she gave herself a perfunctory once-over in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction at what she found. 

Luckily she’d worn her hair twisted up tonight, so she hadn’t had to make any other big adjustments to her appearance, apart from the aforementioned costume change. 

Adrien had also changed his clothes, she noticed, eyeing him up appreciatively. He was wearing black swim trunks slung low on his hips, and a towel, which was casually draped around his neck. He was facing in the opposite direction, arms crossed in a way that highlighted his sculpted shoulders and defined biceps. 

In other words, he looked… totally drool-worthy. 

Apparently, even something as innocent as standing in a hallway looked sinful when someone who was swimsuit model level hot did it. 

Marinette chewed on her lower lip, taking a little extra time to enjoy the view.

Well, hello muscles. Where did you come from?

Adrien turned, catching her mid-ogle.

O H.   N O. 

“You ready to do this, partner?” He asked, smirking at her in a way that made Marinette very aware that he knew exactly what she had just been doing, and was deliberately not bringing it up because he knew that it would make her squirm even more than being confronted directly. The bastard. 

WHY DO BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE……??  She wanted to cry to the heavens. 

Instead, she cleared her throat, desperate to put any lascivious thoughts behind her. 

“This town ain’t big enough for the both of us,” she said, narrowing her eyes, pretending she was a gunslinger in one of the old western movies both of the boys liked. She mimed firing her finger guns, before holstering them in the sides of her sarong. Adrien bit the inside of his cheek as though he was trying not to laugh. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

She pressed her lips together, a wave of determination rising within her. 

“It’s hot tub time, baby.” 

-x-

Their final plan, Stage Two: Bikini, the Redux, was in its essence fairly simple. 

If they found themselves backed into a corner and in need of a way to spice things up, they would commandeer use of the Bourgeois’ hot tub—which Adrien had assured her was fair use but confirmed he would clear with Chloe if it would help put her mind at ease—wherein they would proceed to put on the show of their lives; making it look like they were having a Very Good Time in a strictly non-platonic way. 

All in an effort to get the gossip mill going, thereby ensuring that people at the party continued to talk about them enough for word to inevitably reach Félix’s ears. 

Adrien had never overtly described what the logistics of their plan might entail, but Marinette had simply assumed it would involve being seen canoodling, looking distinctly more than friendly to any curious passersby. 

However, until they were standing outside in their bathing suits, Marinette hadn’t actually considered what kind of physical activities might fall under the umbrella term of 'canoodling', or just how far they might have to go to make their farce believable. 

But before that, there was another fairly large obstacle that happened to be in their way. 

Namely, the four other people currently taking up residence in the Hot Tub of Love™. 

They appeared to be around their age, although Marinette didn’t recognize any of their faces. There were two girls and two guys, each couple taking up one side of the circular pool. Thankfully they didn’t appear to be engaging in any public acts of indecency, apart from being generally loud and obnoxious. A fact that could no doubt be attributed to the multitude of beer bottles and cans she could see littering the ground around them.

She looked to Adrien where he stood at the edge of the patio, silently wondering whether he recognized any of them. 

His eyes were trailing over the mess they’d made of the beautiful stone patio, water and trash strewn about with little care. He gazed heavenward, clasping his hands together as though he was praying for guidance. 

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Adrien... Why are people so annoying?”

Marinette couldn't help but giggle at his disgruntled reaction. “Do you know any of them?” 

“No, I don’t recognize them,” here his expression twisted slightly, his nose crinkling with distaste. “Which probably means they’re just randoms who heard there was a party on the lake and decided to show up to wreak havoc.”

Aka, the worst kind of people. He didn’t have to say that last part aloud. Marinette got the gist of it from both his expression and previous experience. These parties did have a way of attracting opportunists, and they tended to be the sort of people that were always either finding trouble, or creating it if they felt there wasn’t enough to go around.  

As she was thinking this, one of the guys—the lighter haired of the two—launched a beer bottle into the woods, laughing and high-fiving his friend when it shattered noisily on the ground below. 

Adrien’s nostrils flared. 

“Yeah, to hell with this.” Marinette trailed behind him as he stalked over, stopping just before the lip of the stone pool. The steam was rising from the bubbling water, curling enticingly in the cool night air. Marinette shivered. She would much rather be relaxing in warmth right now than standing there in a bikini freezing her tits off. 

But first, they had to deal with their current dilemma. 

“Hey,” Adrien called. “You really shouldn’t be throwing things around. That could seriously hurt someone.”

The guy who had thrown the bottle was seated with his back to them. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge their presence before he responded. 

“Oh, come off it, man. We’re just having some fun.” 

“Yeah, being reckless and belligerent sounds like a blast.” Adrien was using sarcasm, which meant that he must be well and truly annoyed now. “I think it’s about time you took your fun elsewhere.”

“Who’s this guy, a fucking park ranger or something?” The sandy-haired teen glanced at one of his friends, who was busy examining Adrien closely, no doubt trying to place where he’d seen him before. He then turned to face them fully, missing the way his friend’s face blanched with recognition.  

“Find somewhere else to get some ass, buddy, we were here first.” He said snidely, side-eyeing Marinette in a way that made her want to either cross her arms self-consciously or kick him in the face. When she caught his eye, he had the audacity to wink, blowing her a kiss. 

Marinette didn't bother trying to hide her disgust.

Ugh, what a sleaze.

Next to her, Adrien stiffened, stepping forward so he was partially blocking her body with his own. 

One of the hot tub girls began pulling at Captain Douchebag’s shoulder, pleading with him to stop being such a dickhead. 

“Just leave it,” she whined, glancing nervously at Adrien. Her eyes darted to the other two in her group for backup, looking for help with damage control. Yet they remained silent, their eyes round as saucers as they gaped up at Adrien, clearly having realized who they’d just started shit with. 

Unfortunately for them, however, it appeared that Adrien was not in a particularly benevolent mood.  

“What did you just say?” He stood at the edge of the hot tub, looming over the four interlopers like an avenging archangel. The little she could see of his profile seemed as though it had been hewn from granite, the lines of his face smoothed into something hard and unforgiving.

He stared down at the guy who had spoken, not even a blink disturbing the preternatural stillness of his expression. 

The girl leaned forward to whisper furiously in her companion's ear, her voice too low to carry over the sound of the hot tub jets. Nevertheless, Marinette was able to fill in the blanks easily enough when horror dawned on his face, following swiftly on the wings of recognition. 

Adrien's mouth curved up in a smile, though his eyes were cold. 

“Look, I’m really sorry," the guy in the hot tub tried to apologize, frantically backpedaling. "I didn’t know who you were—” 

Adrien didn’t let him finish. 

“Scram,” he told them, his tone brokering no argument. He was practically radiating ‘get the fuck out of my sight’ energy, even though his smile remained firmly in place and had yet to slip a fraction. 

To her infinite surprise, that single word was all it took.

One of the benefits of being regarded as royalty around here apparently, Marinette mused, watching as the four teens scrambled for their belongings, even going so far as to pick up their garbage behind them as they left. Adrien Agreste was in a league of his own; virtually untouchable to the common folk.  

He was also currently dropping his towel to the ground with a shiver, wasting no time getting into the warm water. 

He groaned in satisfaction, sinking up to his shoulders in bubbles. 

“Thank god they left when they did,” he said, letting his head thunk back against the side of the hot tub. “I thought my nipples were gonna fall off there for a minute.” 

Marinette laughed as she untied her sarong, folding it up and placing it neatly beside his towel. Moving slowly, she got in with much more care than Adrien had. After all, it wouldn’t be unheard of for her to slip and fall on her way in and wind up accidentally concussing herself. Or—knowing her luck—the both of them. She knew her track record. 

She stepped delicately into the water, feeling around for the edge of the bench with her foot. Only when she was safely seated and situated did she look up, catching Adrien’s eye. 

Now it was his turn to look abashed at having been caught staring, the tips of his ears reddening. Although frankly his staring probably had less to do with him admiring her hot bod and more to do with the fact that she moved with the grace of an eighty-five-year-old woman in a water aerobics class. But a girl could dream. 

The water felt heavenly against her skin, melting away the chill that had taken hold of her body. Marinette hadn’t realized how frozen she was until she found herself submerged in the warmth. 

“You know, I’ve never been a fan of hot tubs, but this feels amazing,” she moaned, leaning back against the side of the tub.

Adrien hummed in agreement, his eyes slipping closed, posture mirroring the relaxation she felt. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean... I’ve always found them to be pretty gross. All the bacteria and whatnot.”

Marinette grimaced, eyeing the water distrustfully. She hadn’t even considered that. Ew.

“As luck would have it though, Chloe happens to be an absolute stickler when it comes to sanitation and hygiene—even more than I am actually—so I know we’re in good hands here.”

“What, really?” She’d known Chloe for years and had never realized she had a thing about cleanliness. It was a surprisingly human trait. 

“Oh yeah,” Adrien angled his head down to meet her eye. “She’s a total germaphobe. She brings her own equipment to get her nails done and still insists on disinfecting it herself before it gets used anyway.” He leaned toward her, his tone turning conspiratorial. 

“Every time I’ve ever gone to a spa with her, it’s been an absolute nightmare,” his eyes twinkled with barely repressed glee. “Did you know that she's reported over half of the places in Paris to the health inspector?"

Marinette's eyes widened as she ran the math in her head. "Seriously?" That was a lot of places. Just how much free time did Chloe have on her hands?

"Uh-huh. And of the remaining half, most won't even serve her anymore because they're so terrified. She pays someone to come to the hotel now." Adrien grinned at the look on her face. 

"She tried to convince her father to let her have her own hazmat team, but he wouldn't swing for it. Although, to be honest, I can't entirely blame her. Some of that salon equipment is absolutely vile...”

Marinette sniffed disdainfully, putting on her best Chloe voice as she replied. “Hepatitis is no laughing matter, Adrikins.”

Her admittedly terrible impression had him cracking up, and she followed suit shortly thereafter, helpless to resist in the face of his mirth.    

Tilting her head back to look at the stars, Marinette smiled softly, letting the sounds of the party wash over her.

The hot tub was situated on an upper deck, separated by a few stairs and a half wall from the larger heated pool and patio area, where most of the other partygoers were. It was the perfect spot for their purposes; just far enough removed to give them the illusion of privacy, whilst still leaving them visible to anyone who knew where to look. It would have been quite peaceful too, were it not for the loud music and chatter of dozens of inebriated youths coming from below. Still, the beautiful view was almost enough to make up for the noise. 

Marinette traced the moonlight that had carved itself into the lake's surface, following the glittering silver road until it gave way to mountains so dark, they were barely discernible against the expanse of the sky. 

“This was such a good idea,” she sighed, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back, the last of the tension she’d been carrying melting out of her body, dissolving in the warmth and the steam.

Her respite was cut short, however, when she noticed that Adrien was staring at her again, this time with a heated look in his eye. 

It was similar to the one he had given her the other day, yet it felt more intense somehow—like it had been supercharged.

Probably because we're both significantly less clothed this time around... 

The low-grade tingle she’d been ignoring flared up with a zap, jolting through every one of her nerve endings and filling her with a buzzing energy so strong it felt like it could barely be contained by her skin. 

Adrien continued to stare at her from across the hot tub. There was probably about two meters of space between them, but it felt like so much less when he was all but undressing her with his eyes.

“You’re giving me that look again,” she said, trying to dispel the tension curling around them like wisps of steam.

Yet instead of dissolving the tense atmosphere as she'd intended, her words only seemed to add to it; as though by speaking it into being she had given it more power, made it more tangible.

It felt, rather impossibly, like she’d only succeeded in turning the temperature gauge up. 

Is it possible to be boiled alive by sexual tension? Marinette wondered idly, feeling heated for reasons entirely unrelated to the water they were currently floating in. 

“You know, us sitting across from each other all night isn’t going to draw any attention,” Adrien pointed out evenly. “Or help strengthen our cause.” 

Marinette nibbled on the inside of her lip, considering him. 

“What do you propose we do then?”

Adrien raked his eyes over what little he could see of her body, trailing from her shoulders and clavicle down to the barest hint of cleavage visible through the water's swirling surface.

His gaze darkened. 

“Let's just say I have a couple of ideas.” 

-x-

Chapter Text

“What if we were to, say, actually enjoy ourselves here. In a more… productive manner.” 

Marinette nodded along with what Adrien was saying.

“Right, right... Productively producing envy,” she rubbed her chin, liking the direction his thoughts were taking. “I see where you’re going with this.”

“No, that’s not—” Adrien cut himself off. “I mean… what if we actually enjoyed ourselves?” He repeated, with a particular kind of emphasis. 

Marinette tilted her head to the side, trying and failing to understand what he was alluding to. She could hear the words, but couldn’t seem to make sense of them once they were strung together in a sentence.

Taking in the no doubt hopelessly confused look on her face, and obviously recognizing that beating around the bush would do neither of them any good, Adrien elaborated.  

“What if we were to make the most of this whole ‘pretend relationship’ thing, and I dunno, maybe have fun hooking up with one another?”

Adrien still hadn’t moved from his spot reclined against the edge of the hot tub. The exact same distance remained between them, yet Marinette felt as physically aware of him as if he were pressed right up against her body. A vibration started up in her bones, jangling noisily through her like she was made of wind chimes. 

Oh.  

Her heart rate picked up. I guess that answers the question of whether he's repulsed by me physically... 

Adrien couldn’t find her too oafish and dog-looking if he was putting forth the idea that he might actually get some satisfaction from making out with her. 

Still, the realization brought with it no small amount of surprise. 

From the very beginning of their arrangement, Marinette hadn’t had any intention of really getting hot and heavy with Adrien. Sure, she might have idly considered the notion of what it might be like, but she’d never thought the opportunity would present itself, or that Adrien would be the one to bring it up no less.

He was her childhood best friend, after all. Her bosom buddy and intrepid sidekick through all of their—well, maybe mostly her—wildest of juvenile misadventures. 

And, perhaps most importantly of all, he didn’t think of her that way. 

Or so she had thought.   

But now that she was here, in a hot tub, with Adrien gazing at her darkly and looking very fine in his black swim trunks, Marinette was beginning to second-guess more than a few of her previously held notions. 

“All right,” she said at last. 

His eyes widened. “All right?”

Marinette nodded, moving to close the distance between them. Wading through the water, she stopped just before where she could see the reflection of his legs under the surface. 

“So how should we do this—with me on top?”

She had meant the question more with regards to the logistics of making out in a glorified bathtub, only realizing after she'd spoken—as Adrien grew beet red and increasingly flummoxed—that her words could be interpreted in a variety of ways. 

UHHHHHHHHHHH.

"..........I simply cannot overstate how different that statement sounded in my head."

"Right." Adrien cleared his throat. 

She cleared her throat. 

He slid over on the bench, making room for her to sit down. 

Marinette settled beside him, turning her body so she was facing in his direction. 

“So…” What now? She wanted to ask, filled with a jittery sort of energy. Adrien, on the other hand, appeared remarkably calm and at ease with the entire situation, which she supposed made sense. He did have far more experience in the realm of relationships, after all. 

She wondered briefly what it had been like when he and Kagami had kissed—if they’d kissed at all. Had she also found Adrien’s lips to be as plush and kissable as Marinette did? Had Adrien enjoyed kissing his ex-girlfriend as much as Marinette enjoyed kissing him?

Had they maybe gone further than just kissing? Allowing their hands to wander as they explored each other’s bodies, his biceps straining above her as he coiled a hand in her dark hair, bringing their hips together—

WHOA NELLY. 

The mental image hit her with such strength that Marinette would have recoiled, were it not for the wall of the hot tub behind her. 

On second thought, she’d rather not know the details of their relationship, she decided, furiously trying to scrub the image from her head. And she most certainly didn’t need—or want—to know what Adrien and Kagami’s hypothetical sex life had been like. For some reason, even the thought of Adrien doing that with someone else was enough to leave a sour taste in her mouth and a knot in her stomach.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Adrien said, fortunately remaining oblivious to the rabbit hole her mind had wandered down. 

Marinette held out a hand between them, pressing it against his chest to stop him. 

“Wait, wait. Do you mean kiss me like we have been kissing, or kiss me for real?” She asked, wanting to prepare herself mentally and physically. 

Adrien looked puzzled and even a bit offended by the implication that what they'd been doing thus far didn’t really count as kissing. “What do you mean ‘for real’?” He asked, his brows furrowed in a way that Marinette couldn’t help but find hopelessly endearing.

“I just mean, like, we’ve kissed," she hastened to explain, struggling to put her thoughts into words. "But it feels like we haven’t really kissed, you know?” They were very close together now, chests nearly brushing as their shoulders rose and fell in time with their breathing. 

Instead of responding verbally, Adrien merely swayed towards her and Marinette panicked; her mouth moving automatically, knowing instinctively that he couldn’t kiss her if she just never stopped talking. 

“Because I think you should know that whenever I’ve imagined doing this—” with your brother, she added mentally, thankfully having the wherewithal not to say that part aloud “—my mouth is always closed. Should my mouth be closed?”

Her fantasies had not prepared her for this. There were so many logistical oversights, not to mention the fact that it was the wrong Agreste brother currently seated across from her, gazing at her with a look of fond exasperation on his face.

Although there were admittedly far worse people she could have been going through this with for the first time. Because even though she’d always imagined sharing all her firsts with Félix, the pleasant tinglies she was experiencing at the moment had nothing to do with the older Agreste brother, and everything to do with the handsome blonde boy in front of her. 

“Just follow my lead,” Adrien said, the huskiness of his voice causing her pleasant tinglies to do the cha-cha down down down her spine, warmth pooling in the base of her abdomen.  

“Okay.” Marinette drifted closer to him automatically, her eyes magnetically drawn to his lips, which looked deliciously plush and extremely kissable. 

You know, if she were to care about things like how nice her Strictly Platonic Best Friend’s mouth looked. Or what it might feel like to have said nice-looking mouth pressed against her own. 

Which she absolutely didn't. For the record. 

Except now that she'd started, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. 

Holy shit I am so turned on right now... 

Mirroring her motion, Adrien leaned in slowly, his eyes heavy-lidded and nearly obscured by long, thick lashes. 

Just as he was about to close the last bit of distance between them—when she could feel the quick, warm puffs of his breath on her lips—Marinette let out an involuntary giggle. 

He pulled back slightly, appearing vaguely affronted at being interrupted for the nth time. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Marinette giggled again, unable to tamp down on her sudden influx of nervous energy. “I’ve just, uh, never done anything like this before? So I guess I’m a little nervous...” She admitted, trailing off uncertainly.

Adrien's expression softened, his green eyes gleaming in the dim light. 

“That’s okay,” he said, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “I’ll teach you.”

Then he closed his eyes and kissed her. 

Marinette kept her eyes open for a beat longer, trying to capture every single detail of the moment to imprint in her memory forever. 

The patio lanterns above them, swinging in the gentle breeze coming off the lake.

The sounds of music and laughter from the party below.  

The soft warmth of Adrien's lips, pressed against her own.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth began to move. 

So this is kissing, Marinette marvelled from some distant corner of her mind palace. She wondered whether it was always supposed to feel like this—like her stomach had come alive with butterflies, tingles spreading from her lips all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. 

Yet just as she was starting to get comfortable, she felt Adrien pull back, and withheld a disappointed sigh. 

Was that it? She peeked at him.

But Adrien’s eyes were still closed, and when he moved in again, hers did the same. 

This time, she felt the tip of his tongue pressing at her lips, coaxing them open. 

ADRIEN AGRESTE’S TONGUE IS IN MY MOUTH.

I REPEAT:

TONGUE.

IN.

MOUTH.

!!!!!!!NOBODY PANIC!!!!!!!!!!

Forcing herself to relax, Marinette tried to focus on the rhythm of what Adrien was doing, rather than the...unusual nature of their current circumstances.  

Move in, move out. Tongue, no tongue.

There was an ebb and flow to it, and things would probably work much better if she didn’t just sit there with dead fish lips the whole time, stiff as a wooden plank. 

So the next time Adrien pulled away, Marinette asked. “Can I try?” 

He was so close that she felt more than saw the corners of his lips quirk up.

“Be my guest, Princess.”

She moved in, pressing her mouth over his smile. She tried to emulate the pressure he'd been using, keeping her lips firm yet pliant. 

Then, carefully and oh-so delicately, she let her tongue poke out, tentatively slipping it into his mouth. 

The effect was immediate.

Adrien inhaled sharply through his nose, hands rising from his sides to grip her body under the water, holding her tightly to him. He took control now, deepening the kiss into something much warmer and more insistent. 

Marinette snaked a hand up to the back of his neck, separating from him just long enough to whisper. “I thought it was supposed to be my turn.”

His only response was an amused puff of air against her mouth. 

They came to an unspoken agreement after that, both deciding to forgo any attempts at witty banter in favour of something that was proving to be infinitely more enjoyable. 

Marinette gave herself over to the sensations—enjoying the feeling of his tongue teasing her lips, letting her own tongue sweep across his teeth in return. She had just worked up the courage to experiment with nibbling slightly on his lower lip when she heard snickering coming from nearby. 

“Oh my god, is that Adrien Agreste—?”

“Get your phone out and film this!”

She pulled back, breathing hard, very deliberately not looking in the direction she could hear voices coming from. Clearly, people were beginning to catch on to what they were up to. 

Don’t chicken out now, this is what we wanted, she reminded herself. She wondered briefly whether Bridgette and Félix were somewhere nearby, and how they might react to the news of her and Adrien's escapades once they found out.

Strangely though, the thought didn’t fill her with as much excitement or satisfaction as she’d imagined it would. In fact, Marinette was surprised to discover how little she cared at all about Félix’s hypothetical reaction as she watched Adrien’s bare chest rise and fall rapidly. 

Thank god I'm not the only one having a hard time catching my breath... I was starting to think I might be horribly out of shape... 

“You know, there are other things we can do as well,” Adrien whispered in her ear. “If you’re getting bored of this.” 

Bored? At a time like this??? The concept was laughable. Marinette had never been less bored by an activity in the entirety of her lived existence. 

Even so, she was curious to hear what he thought could possibly make what they’d just been doing seem uninteresting. 

“Oh?” Her voice came out much steadier than she’d expected, though it was still a tad breathier than she would have liked. It had less of the ‘sexy temptress’ husk she’d been hoping for and more ‘small woodland creature in an animated movie’ squeakiness. But she was willing to workshop it. 

Especially if it might mean more time spent making out with Adrien. 

“It doesn’t have to be just mouth on mouth action,” Adrien explained, as his mouth began wandering. “You can do the same thing here for example.” He kissed the point right below her jawline, dragging his lips over the sensitive skin there so slowly it was almost agonizing. The cheeky little bugger even had the audacity to let his tongue slip out at the last moment, teasing her. 

“Or here.” 

Marinette's breath caught as he moved up, stopping just behind her ear. The warmth of his lips and tongue were wreaking havoc on her senses, reducing her cognitive functioning to a shadow of its former self. When he gently dragged his teeth over her earlobe, it was all she could do not to cry out. 

SWEET JESUS IN THE GARDEN, WHERE DID HE LEARN HOW TO DO THIS ???

Adrien pulled back, his breath hot and loud in her ear. Even that felt so good it was almost overwhelming. Marinette reached around, desperate to find some kind of anchor point; something to hold onto to keep her from floating off and evaporating with the steam. 

One of her hands found the lip of the hot tub as the other located Adrien’s under the water, clinging to the bench they were sitting on. The moment he felt the brush of her fingers, he latched onto her hand instead, as though he needed the contact just as much as she did. 

Marinette inhaled through her nose. 

“My turn now.”  

She moved to give him the jaw treatment, tasting the mix of chlorine and sweat lingering on his skin. It was an odd combination, but one that strangely didn’t bother her. Maybe it would have, had it been anyone else. But this was Adrien. 

Adrien, who was practically squirming in place as her mouth and tongue made short work of his remaining composure. 

Marinette pressed a long kiss behind his ear, gently sucking the skin between her lips as she pulled away. She took a few deep, open-mouthed breaths, watching the air stir the damp hair that had begun curling around the side of his head.

Was making out normally supposed to feel as physically intensive as running a marathon up Mount Everest, she wondered, or was the heart-pounding breathlessness she was experiencing just another side-effect of kissing Adrien Agreste?

“Ah,” Adrien giggled slightly, clearing his throat to get his voice to come out more deeply. “Careful. No marks... In case I have to take pictures this weekend.”

She laved the skin with her tongue; an apology and a promise all in one.  

I’ll come back for you, she vowed silently. And I’ll make sure to leave a mark that everyone can see then. 

Shaking off her unexpectedly possessive urges, Marinette moved on, tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, before drawing the lobe between her teeth and biting down lightly. 

Adrien arched up toward her, letting out a sound that Marinette decided then and there she enjoyed very much and promptly set about recreating. It was a cross between a moan and a sigh, and it sent electric heat racing through her like lightning—adding to the simmering in her core that was only being amplified by the water around them. 

She wasn’t sure how much time passed after that. She wasn’t even sure she’d remember her own name if someone were to ask for it. All she knew was the swirling water, and the feel of Adrien’s body sliding against her own; his hands in her hair and on her skin, leaving behind trails of heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the hot tub. 

Making out with Adrien was potent, intoxicating. Like the best high she’d ever felt—an addictive drug that left her light-headed and wanting more at the same time. She could tell that Adrien felt similarly addled, judging by the way his cloudy green eyes were having trouble focusing on her whenever they put some space between them. He looked like he couldn’t decide whether this was reality or a dream, and he half-expected to wake up at any moment. 

Marinette could relate. 

If making out with Adrien felt this good, she could only imagine what it would be like to make out with his brother. Because the reality of kissing Adrien vastly outperformed anything she had ever dreamed of doing with Félix Agreste. 

Ever. 

Marinette wasn’t quite ready to contemplate what that might mean for her future plans, but she could acknowledge that enjoying getting hot and heavy with her crush’s younger brother certainly had the potential to complicate matters. 

“Maybe we should get out of the hot tub,” she proposed at last, feeling flushed and comedically out of breath. She had no idea how long they’d been in there—it could have been fifteen minutes, it could have been fifty. It felt like an entire lifetime and no time at all had passed.

Adrien nodded his agreement, throat bobbing as he swallowed heavily, his lips swollen and red from all the kissing. Marinette licked her own lips, knowing they were probably no better. If people hadn’t seen them in the act, they’d sure as hell be able to put two and two together when they saw them now. 

Adrien's gaze was still heavy-lidded and zeroed in on her mouth, tracking her tongue's movements. If they both weren’t nearly delirious from the heat, Marinette would have been sorely tempted to go for round two.

Nevertheless, it was probably in their best interests to err on the side of caution and heed her better judgment this once. Even if the hungry look in Adrien’s green eyes was leaving her knees shaky in all the right ways. It wouldn’t do to have either of them overheat and wind up doing something embarrassing like falling into a dead faint in front of a crowd of nosy partygoers.

Extricating herself from Adrien's grasp, Marinette removed her legs from where they’d been thrown over his hips. At some point during their hot tub hijinks, they had obviously decided that the optimal position was in fact to have her on top, straddling his lap. Now that they were no longer making out, however, Marinette couldn’t help but feel slightly self-conscious at the way she had effectively thrown herself all over him. Pulling away fully, she brushed off the hand that had fallen to her waist, eager to put some distance between them without making it seem like she was fleeing for the hills. 

Marinette stood, her lower half still submerged in water, relishing the feel of the cool night air caressing her overheated skin. 

When she turned back to see if Adrien was coming, she found him staring at her instead, the strangest expression on his face.

He quickly tried to wipe it away once he realized she was looking, but he hadn't quite been fast enough. 

Because, in the split second before he stood as well, she could have sworn that Adrien had been giving her a look that could only be described as wistful, if not melancholic. 

And, despite how well she thought she knew him, Marinette couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it meant. 

-x-

Chapter Text

It had been a tradition for nearly as long as Marinette could remember. 

Every summer without fail, her family and Adrien’s family would pick a day where they were all free—usually a weekend, since Gabriel rarely stopped working even on vacation—to dedicate to the most quintessential of lakeside activities:

Boating. 

Being a preferred vacation spot for the rich and well-to-do, there was no shortage of marinas on all sides of the lake. Theirs was no exception. The closest was about fifteen minutes away, which made it that much easier for both families to rendezvous there. Then they would set sail to the point where the lake was at its widest; to a collection of small islands where they could swim, sunbathe, and picnic to their hearts' content.

It was an entire day spent on the Agrestes’ yacht, riding around enjoying the sun and the scenery, taking in all the beauty that the lake in summertime had to offer.

In other words? Pure. Bliss. 

Seeing how the Agrestes provided the boat, Marinette’s parents typically went all out with the food, and it was pretty much the only day of the year (barring the occasional holiday) that Gabriel would allow his sons to eat whatever they wanted. 

It had always been a family day—one that Marinette looked forward to, because it meant hours and hours of uninterrupted time with both Félix and Adrien. 

Once again: bliss.  

Except it wasn’t bliss Marinette was feeling when she arrived at the marina bright and early Saturday morning to discover not just Félix, Gabriel, and Adrien there waiting for them, but someone else as well. 

What in the FRESH HELL is she doing here? Marinette faltered mid-step, spotting a head of long, dark hair just visible over Félix's shoulder. 

Freezing in place, her brain went into overdrive as she scrambled for a plausible excuse to explain away Bridgette’s presence.  

Maybe she works at the marina? Marinette thought, frantically grasping at straws as she attempted to tamp down her rising desperation. Bridgette couldn’t possibly be there to join them, after all. She wasn’t family. She and Félix hadn’t even been dating that long! The idea was preposterous! 

And yet, as she watched Bridgette hand Félix the bag she’d been carrying to load onto the boat, Marinette knew her day of bliss was most likely dead in the water. 

Mayday, mayday, we’re sinking! Cried her hopes and dreams, right before they met their watery end. 

Suddenly, she found her sightline obstructed by a pair of broad shoulders. Shoulders that happened to be attached to a body belonging to Adrien Agreste. 

She looked up (and up, and up), meeting his eyes, surprised to note that his shoulders were wide enough now to entirely block her from view of everyone behind him. She had time for a fleeting thought—something to the tune of ‘What in tarnation?' and 'Where has he been hiding these???’—before his voice drew her from her musings. 

“You trying to shoot lasers out of your eyes to murder Félix’s girlfriend really isn’t going to help convince anyone we’re madly in love,” Adrien said, poking her in the forehead at the point where her brows were furrowed. He gave her a knowing look, his eyes glimmering like they held all the secrets of the universe in their depths. Although that might have been a trick of the light; an effect of the morning sun gleaming off the water and the other boats around them. 

Marinette took a moment to fully appreciate his appearance now that he was standing in front of her.  

She had always secretly been of the opinion that Adrien looked best in the sunshine. He was unfailingly handsome at all times, of course, but there was something about the warm natural light that helped bring his features to life—highlighting the gold in his hair and making his tanned skin glow. It also set off his eyes, tender and green like the summer leaves that grew along the edge of the lake. 

He was dazzling—almost painfully beautiful to look at—and like the sun, she was afraid she’d go blind if she stared at him for too long. 

The warm wind coming off the water played with his hair, pressing the fabric of his grey t-shirt against his chest—a chest that was surprisingly firm and sculpted, the planes of which she now knew the feel of quite intimately. Marinette had the absurd urge to smooth the non-existent wrinkles from his shirt, just for the excuse to run her hands over his body.

A strange new development. 

She began to feel uncomfortably warm, a fact she was more than willing to blame on the sun beating down on her bare shoulders. 

“Hi,” she greeted him rather dumbly, unable to find any other words. It didn't help that her brain chose that exact moment to remind her that not even twenty-four hours prior, they had been furiously making out in a hot tub. 

Where she had put her TONGUE in his EAR. (!!)

The breeze blew part of her loose hair across her face, which she was thankful for—hopefully it was enough to distract from the unwelcome heat rising in her cheeks. 

Adrien gave her a soft smile, his voice equally soft as he replied. “Hi, you.”

Rocking forward onto her tiptoes, Marinette met his kiss halfway. It was chaste; a quick greeting.

It gave her a pleasant little zing all the same.  

She ducked her head, tucking any errant strands of hair behind her ear as she did so, feeling unexpectedly shy. Maybe it was because he was standing close enough that she could smell his cologne, mixed in with the scent of his laundry detergent and sunscreen. She took a deep breath in, enjoying the heady mix of smells that was distinctly Adrien. 

Or maybe, she mused, peeking up at him, it had something to do with the way Adrien was looking at her—like he couldn’t for the life of himself tear his gaze away. 

Someone—she had the distinct impression it might have been one of her parents—called for their attention farther up the wharf.

With a start, Marinette became aware that she and Adrien had been standing there very close together conversing lowly, during which time everyone else had loaded onto the boat. They all stood staring at them now, varying degrees of impatience written on their faces. She caught her parents exchanging a look as Gabriel cooly scrutinized her and Adrien from his place in the bow. 

Under normal circumstances, Marinette would have made to leap away in embarrassment, but she realized with a jolt that this was exactly the kind of behaviour that was expected of them now that they were ‘together’. Adrien seemed to have come to a similar conclusion because instead of pulling away, he reached over and grabbed her hand, taking her bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 

Then he gently laced their fingers together. 

“Well,” he cleared his throat, not meeting her eye. “Shall we?” 

This is so weird, Marinette thought, trying not to dwell on how strangely normal it felt having her hand held by Adrien, even while both of their families looked on. 

She nodded, suddenly resolved to make the most of the day and to stick to her plans, regardless of whatever pretty, dark-haired obstacles wound up in her way. 

-x- 

It was, in hindsight, much easier said than done. 

Marinette tried to dedicate herself to having fun, but it was proving to be a surprisingly difficult thing to do whilst also keeping Bridgette and Félix in the corner of her eye at all times. 

Which was especially annoying, because Bridgette, by contrast, appeared to be having the time of her life. 

From the very moment they cast off, the other girl was completely enraptured. She kept going on and on about how she’d 'never gone around the lake in a boat so big', and 'oh wow she could totally see her house from here!'

Cue the eye-rolling. 

As Bridgette loudly marvelled at the beauty around them, Marinette silently wondered—quite uncharitably—whether anyone would notice if she were to 'accidentally' push the other girl overboard. 

Most annoyingly of all, Félix didn’t seem to mind her rapturous enthusiasm in the slightest. In fact—although their conversation to an outside observer might have sounded distinctly one-sided—Marinette could tell that Félix was paying careful attention to everything the other girl said. He even went as far as to actually verbally engage with her, pointing things out that he knew she would find interesting and smiling slightly to himself whenever what he’d mentioned would cause Bridgette to 'ooh' and 'aah' appreciatively.

It was kind of cute, Marinette couldn’t help but admit. 

It still made her want to throw up. 

Their parents, as per usual, made themselves comfortable on the upper deck area, close to the bridge where the captain was located. They were probably spending their time catching up and having boring adult conversations, which Marinette desperately wanted to avoid.  

Luckily for her, Adrien seemed to be similarly inclined. He joined her in the bow, content to make a game out of spotting different landmarks and people’s houses as they sailed by. 

“Do you remember the old man that used to live there?” Adrien asked, pointing to a gloomy country house nestled into the mountainside. 

“I heard that he made all of his money on horses and black market deals, and retired out here to live his golden years in peace. Only to have the ghosts of his past catch up with him in the end...” He gave her a ghoulish look, waggling his fingers menacingly. 

“Didn’t he die of gout or something?” Marinette cocked an eyebrow, amused by his antics in spite of herself. 

“Maybe the ghost of his past was a love of food and drink,” Adrien sniffed, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “Besides, everyone knows you can’t die of gout. What do you think this is, the fifteenth century?” 

“Oh yeah, please flex your big, homeschooled brain energy on me," she fluttered her eyelashes, clasping her hands beneath her chin. "I love it when you talk nerdy.”

He stuck out his tongue, and Marinette laughed, giving him a light shove. He retaliated by tickling her side. 

Squealing, she tried to squirm away, only for the iron band of Adrien’s arm—which she was surprised to note had at some point encircled her waist—to keep her locked in place. 

He continued to tickle her lightly as she screamed with laughter, begging him for mercy. 

“Okay, okay, I surrender!” She cried, wiping tears from her eyes. “You win, oh great and big-brained one.”

Adrien grinned wolfishly, leaning towards her. "Oh? Does that mean I get to claim a prize—?"

“Are you two incapable of keeping your hands to yourselves for more than five minutes?” An irritated voice called out from behind them. 

They whirled around to find Bridgette and Félix standing there, the latter wearing the flat, unimpressed look of someone who had just discovered a piece of desiccated gum on the bottom of their movie theater chair. 

“Father wanted me to inform you that we’re about to dock,” Félix's tone was still snippy, but Marinette was too preoccupied to care about his brattiness at the moment. 

Her eyes darted to Adrien, who was gazing back at her with the same barely concealed excitement bubbling in her own chest. They both knew what that meant. 

“Food!” They exclaimed in unison, tripping over themselves and each other as they scrambled to their feet.

Félix simply let out a noise of disgust. 

-x-

Once they had finished gorging themselves at lunch, Adrien and Marinette wasted no time disembarking, immediately making a break for their favourite spot on the other side of the island.

They emerged onto the narrow stretch of beach, the grassy hill gently sloping down to meet the water, separated by the barest hint of sand. Marinette kicked at it, relishing the heat against the soles of her feet. The air was humid and warm, the midday sun above promising a beautiful, if not blisteringly hot day ahead.

Perfect swimming weather, she thought, eyeing the cool blue water longingly. But there would be time for that later. 

First and foremost, certain matters needed to be dealt with. 

She swatted Adrien lightly on the arm, causing him to jolt. 

“Ouch!” He yelped, moving out of the range of her fists of fury. “What the heck was that for?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She advanced on him, trying to look menacing in spite of her smaller stature. She hadn’t actually hit him hard enough to hurt, so she would waste no time feeling remorseful about his whinging. It was merely a distraction tactic, after all, and they both knew it.  

The whites of his eyes plainly visible, Adrien's gaze darted around in search of an escape route. But he came up blank, as Marinette knew he would. A grim sort of satisfaction filled her. She had made sure to lead him here, where she knew they would be isolated. 

“Tell you?" His voice crept higher and higher, riding on the edge of a crack. "About?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she wagged a finger at him. He flinched back in fear. Good, let the little bastard sweat. “Did you know that Bridgette would be coming today?”

Adrien raised his hands between them, speaking earnestly even as he continued backing away from her. “I swear, I didn’t! I only found out when she showed up this morning right before you guys.” His expression was open and honest, which told her that for all of his faults and foibles, Adrien was telling the truth this time. He really hadn’t known that Bridgette would be joining them. 

It didn’t help to ease her annoyance though. 

To think that Félix would bring her on a family outing...

“Ugh,” Marinette growled, stomping across the sand. “Why did he have to bring her today of all days? This is our day. No outsiders allowed.” She slashed a hand through the air emphatically. 

He can’t actually be that serious about her... Can he?    

Now she was beginning to question even her own iron-clad sense of certainty. Félix inviting Bridgette today was an unpleasant curveball on top of an already topsy-turvy week, and it left Marinette unsure how to react or proceed. All she'd wanted was a simple, laid-back day relaxing on the boat and the beach, same as usual.

Yet so far she'd spent most of the day on edge, constantly keeping an eye out, wondering where the two of them were and what they were doing.

It was exhausting. 

Marinette collapsed to the ground with a heavy sigh, flopping back on the grassy knoll. 

“Who knew that romance would be this convoluted?” She stared up at the sky as though it held the answer to all her existential wonderings. Perhaps if she laid there long enough, the heavens and the powers that be would take pity and send her a sign.  

Instead of a divine messenger, however, she had to settle for Adrien, who merely gave her a half-hearted shrug. 

“Beats me. Want to go swimming?” 

Marinette considered him. It wasn’t the brilliant solution she had been hoping for, but it certainly couldn’t make things any worse. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

-x- 

It didn’t take much time at all for Félix and Bridgette to stumble across their hiding spot.  

“How’s the water?” Bridgette called from the shoreline, her voice easily carrying out to where they lay, floating on their backs like sea otters.  

“Feels great!” Adrien cupped his hands around his mouth, his reply echoing back to them loud and clear. Marinette shot him a glare from the corner of her eye. 

“Traitor,” she muttered darkly. 

“What?” He gave her a look that was both amused and exasperated. “Did you want me to lie and say it was subarctic, and that we’re actually slowly succumbing to hypothermia out here?”

Marinette harrumphed, turning her head away in lieu of a response. That would have been preferable to the situation they currently found themselves in, which was Bridgette and Félix both swimming out to join them. 

“It feels so nice!” Bridgette exclaimed, her head bobbing in the water as she paddled closer. The other girl appeared to be making a bee-line for her, much to Marinette’s chagrin. “Apparently it’s supposed to be really warm this week, so any time I can spend in the lake is time well-spent in my book.”

Thankfully Marinette was saved from responding by Félix, who dove under the waves, surfacing only inches from his brother’s face. 

“Boo.” He whispered. 

“GAH!” Adrien reared back in alarm, water erupting around him as he flailed. “UGH, FÉLIX YOU KNOW I HATE WHEN YOU DO THAT!” 

Félix smirked as Marinette and Bridgette both burst into laughter. Then he met her eye, a spark of mischief entering his gaze. 

“Do you think that old rope swing is still around here somewhere?”  

At his question, Marinette sobered immediately, the smile slipping off her face. 

Fother mucker. 

-x- 

To her utter dismay, the rope swing was, in fact, alive and well. 

She gazed upon it like a condemned man might contemplate the gallows, moments before his appointment with the executioner. 

The old swing hung where it always had, on the branch of an ancient oak along the edge of the lake. Due to years of erosion, the tree was perfectly situated, hanging out over the water in a way that seemed to defy gravity and the laws of physics. It was practically begging for something like a rope swing, Marinette could admit. 

That didn’t mean she had to like it. 

Catching sight of the sour look on her face, Adrien gave her a gentle nudge. 

“Oh, come on,” he said, attempting to cajole her. “It won’t be that bad.”

“You’re right,” Marinette replied grimly. “It will absolutely be worse.”

Adrien laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulders and pulling her against his side as they walked along the shore. She let him, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against her own, and the comfort provided by the solid weight of his arm. It was helping to chase away the wobbly sensation in her legs, making her feel less like she was one minute and a stiff breeze away from falling over. 

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he reminded her.

Adrien was trying to be comforting, but the thought of not participating when everyone else undoubtedly would be was unacceptable. Marinette's pride simply would not allow her to stand on the sidelines like a chicken shit while everyone else went out and had fun doing something she found foolhardy and reckless (and maybe just the littlest bit enticing). 

She grumbled, not wanting to reveal the true reason behind her hesitancy. The last thing she needed was for Adrien to make a big deal about her maybe having a problem with heights. 

Which she didn’t. Obviously. 

Heights were totally fine. The thought of being up in a high place, staring down at the ground far below her absolutely did not fill her with a sense of dread so all-consuming it caused her pulse to quicken and made her stomach drop to some distant point beneath her toes. 

Marinette clenched her fists at her sides, frustrated to discover they were trembling.

Okay so maybe I MIGHT have a SLIGHT problem with heights... 

Yet she was also a firm believer in the power of speaking things into being. Or rather, she’d read about it enough times in various self-help books and magazines her mother tended to leave lying around the house that she figured there must be something to the idea, if so many middle-aged women were keen on it. 

Therefore by that logic, if she admitted to possessing this hypothetical fear, then she would only be giving it strength and allowing it to tighten its hold on her. Which meant that when it came to her issue with heights, Marinette was a practitioner of the ostrich method—ignore the problem until it disappeared. 

She eyed the fraying rope as it swung ominously in the breeze, taunting her. 

Or it killed you. 

Marinette swallowed, uncertain which option she would prefer at the moment. 

Looks like I can’t live, laugh, love my way out of this one, boys. 

Bridgette charged ahead of them all, loudly exclaiming about how much fun it looked and asking whether they would mind if she went first. 

The boys acquiesced quite easily, suckers as usual for a pretty face. 

Then as one, they turned to her, as though to get her approval. 

“Be my guest,” Marinette croaked, waving them off. 

Bridgette grabbed the rope, pulling it back as far as it would go as she backed up the hill. Then she took a running start, launching herself off the edge of the bank and high up into the air. 

Agog, Marinette watched her fly in an arc, sailing so high above the water it appeared she intended to make the sky her new home. 

She must be one of those adrenaline junkie types, the thought occurred to her distantly as gravity began to take hold, pulling Bridgette down down down towards the surface of the lake. 

In quite an impressive feat of acrobatic prowess, Bridgette managed to flip herself around at the apex of her jump, spiralling into a series of tight somersaults before she disappeared with a neat splash beneath the waves. 

Marinette knew she was gaping unattractively, and saw that the boys were not much better off. Adrien stood beside her, so slack-jawed he was at risk of swallowing a fly at any moment. Félix was the only one who didn't appear completely flabbergasted by the display, and even his eyes were significantly wider than normal. 

“That… was impressive,” Adrien turned to his brother with brows raised. 

“Bridgette did gymnastics for years,” Félix replied, a proud gleam in his eye even as his gaze remained glued on the water. Only once he saw a dark head of hair break the surface did his posture loosen. "She is more proficient than most." 

“Yeah,” Marinette responded somewhat lamely, cursing internally. 

Of course, Bridgette had to be a gorgeous, thrill-seeking, adventure junkie slash manic pixie dream girl type. And, worst of all, she actually made her ridiculous stunts look cool while she was doing them! 

Damn it all, to the deepest pits of hell.

How was she supposed to compete with a girl who could easily do the things she herself found so daunting? No wonder Félix had picked her. She was categorically perfect in every conceivable way. The weight of Marinette’s dilemma fell heavier on her shoulders with each passing second. 

“I’ll go next,” Adrien announced, reaching over to squeeze her hand once. He smiled, reassuring her even though he was the one who was about to defy the laws of nature by attempting to achieve flight. 

“Be careful!" Marinette called after him, unable to keep from fretting like an old woman as he lined himself up to jump. She held her breath the entire time he was in the air, not even able to fully appreciate the way the movement caused his muscles to flex enticingly. 

Adrien emerged, shaking water from his hair like a dog. He grinned down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“See, I made it out in one piece.” He leaned in close to her face, as though he was going to kiss her. His voice was a low rumble now, meant only for their ears. “Hope you didn’t worry too much, princess.” 

Her hand slipped between them. Adrien’s green eyes crossed as he gazed with confusion at the index finger resting on the tip of his nose. 

Marinette pushed him back, ignoring his squawk of surprise. 

“Cheeky little bugger,” she grumbled, jerking her head away before he could see the flush creeping up her face.    

-x-

Chapter Text

When her turn came, Marinette managed to beg off, claiming she wanted to work on her tan, but making vague assurances that she might partake later. 

The ‘right after hell finished freezing over’ part remained unspoken. 

Bridgette and Adrien continued jumping for a while, eventually tiring of the repetitive motion and choosing to swim lazily in the water instead. 

Félix, to her surprise, had also not joined in the rope jumping, despite having been the one to suggest the activity. Instead, he’d settled on the grass not far from her, seemingly content to watch the action and sun himself as well. 

“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were chickening out,” Adrien called from the water. 

Marinette's head shot up in alarm. 

Adrien's attention wasn't on her, however, but rather his brother, who gazed back dispassionately. 

“I don’t feel like getting wet right now,” Félix didn’t bother raising his voice, trusting that the sound would carry to where his brother and Bridgette were floating. Or perhaps he simply didn’t care either way. Marinette leaned up on her elbows, watching their exchange with curiosity. 

She couldn't quite make out Adrien’s facial expression from where she was laying, but she knew just by the tone of his voice that he had a devious glint in his eye. “That sounds like something someone who’s chickening out would say…” He was clearly trying to goad his brother, and judging by the annoyed look on Félix’s face, it was working. 

At the sound of Bridgette’s giggling, his blue eyes narrowed further. 

Rising with the put-upon sigh of a beleaguered babysitter, the older boy made for the swing as though he were humouring a group of small children, rather than the girl he was dating and his teenage brother. 

Rope in one hand, he backed up the hill, each of his movements careful and controlled. Then he burst into motion, running so quickly his feet almost appeared not to touch the ground. 

He flew high—higher even than Bridgette had—the arc of his jump graceful and refined. The muscles in his upper body flexed deliciously, blonde hair catching the sun just right, lighting up around his head like a halo in the instant before he hit the water. 

My God, he makes it look so easy. Marinette knew she was ogling. Which she definitely shouldn’t be. 

Félix surfaced, shaking hair from his face with the air of someone who was aware they were painfully hot and had decided to make it everyone else's problem.

Yet she also knew that, no matter how many times and how many different ways she told herself otherwise, she was not going to be able to look away from the gloriousness that was Félix Agreste’s bare torso glistening in the sunlight. 

He looks like goddamn a swimsuit model, she thought disbelievingly. Félix had never taken much of an interest in the fashion side of his father’s business—much more focused on the behind-the-scenes logistics that kept the empire going. Which was a damned shame, because it meant the rest of the world would never get to appreciate his half-naked hotness the same way Marinette was in that moment. 

Félix's lack of modelling career clearly wasn’t due to any shortcomings in the physique department. He easily could have been a model, and he certainly looked the part right then—pushing wet strands of hair from his eyes, toned muscles shifting beneath skin that was starting to develop the barest hint of a tan. Water droplets traced the contours of his body, glittering like diamonds in the sun.

Oh to be a drop of water on a hot boy's abs... Marinette licked her lips. 

She was abruptly shaken from her reverie by Adrien, who flopped down next to her. “Shove over,” he said, settling his very wet, cold body on what had been a very comfortable, very dry towel mere moments before. She tried in vain to scoot away, but Adrien was persistent; trapping her against him, determined to leech all the heat out of her sun-warmed skin. 

“Get off me!” She cried, hands slipping against his chest as she tried to dislodge his grip. If anything, her efforts only made Adrien cling on tighter. He was still soaked from his dip in the lake, and Marinette cursed as his clammy limbs wrapped around her like the tentacles of a very determined octopus. 

“Nope, don’t think I will,” he replied, burrowing his head into her shoulder and curling up as though he intended to go to sleep.

Marinette stared down at him in disbelief. 

“Adrien,” she tried.

No response.

“Adrien, get off of me.” Marinette arched upward, attempting to wriggle out from underneath him. It only succeeded in pressing their bodies more closely together, making her hyper-aware of how few layers of clothing were presently between them.

Adrien's arms tightened around her, effectively holding her in place as he cracked one eye open to glare at her. 

“Stop squirming,” he grumbled, his eye nothing more than a slit of green, just barely visible through a curtain of thick blonde hair. 

“Ugh!” She fell back in despair, rolling her eyes as she resigned herself to her fate. Apparently, she would now be spending a solid chunk of her afternoon playing the role of body pillow.

Who knew that having Adrien Agreste as a pretend boyfriend would be such ‘hands-on’ work? 

Marinette withheld a snort. And now she was even thinking in puns! He really was a terrible influence, she mused, carding a hand absentmindedly through his hair. 

Adrien leaned into the gesture, nudging her hand like a big, dopey blonde cat. 

“I can’t believe you’re about to go to sleep on me. You’re gonna ruin my tan,” she whined, imagining the wonky tan lines she was going to have. At this rate, one whole half of her body would be darker than the other, all because a useless lump of teenage boy had decided the best place to have his afternoon nap was directly on top of her. 

Adrien didn’t respond, other than to sigh contentedly. Marinette shivered, her spine tingling at the feel of his warm breath dancing across the side of her neck.

She closed her eyes, deciding she might as well join in on this impromptu catnap. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere any time soon. 

Within moments she was asleep. 

-x-

Marinette knew she was dreaming. 

Or rather she seriously suspected she might be. Everything was fuzzy at the edges, tinged with the soft intangibility that only came with dream reality. But she was so warm and comfortable lying in the sun that she couldn’t be bothered to question it, much less care.

Dream or not, she was very much enjoying the way the gentle breeze was tugging at her hair. 

Although on second thought, perhaps it wasn’t the breeze at all, but in fact someone's fingers, combing through the dark lengths.  

She glanced to the right to find Félix sitting beside her. 

At least, she thought it was Félix. It was so hard to tell the difference between him and his brother when the sun was in their hair and their eyes were averted. Was he the one playing with her hair? 

Before she could ask as much, he turned, almost as though he’d heard her thoughts.

Running a hand over her hair, he cupped the side of her face tenderly, his eyes the cool blue of a winter morning sky. 

Félix after all then. 

She leaned into the touch, her eyelids fluttering. He chuckled lowly.  

“I’m not Félix, I’m Adrien,” Félix said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at her. 

Wow, she had never seen him smile like that before. There was so much warmth and love in his expression, and she realized with a thrill that it was all for her. For her! Her plans must have succeeded then, she mused, sighing in relief. After all, Félix wouldn’t be looking at her like this—like she was his entire world—if he wasn’t in love with her.  

A giddy sort of elation took hold, only gaining strength when he laid down beside her, so close she could feel every inch of his body. 

“Mmm…” His lips trailed from her temple down to the column of her throat, paying particular attention to the sensitive skin just behind her ear. 

“Ahh!” She gasped, arching into his embrace. Her hands flexed at her sides, overcome by the desire to either pull him closer or push him away. It felt almost too good, like miniature fireworks were exploding underneath her skin, setting all her nerve endings alight.

Spring green eyes stared down at her when he pulled away. She marvelled at the length of his eyelashes. He really was so beautiful. 

His lips quirked in a devilish smirk, belying his otherwise angelic appearance. Something about the image tickled at the back of her mind, a tiny flicker that told her something was...different than before. 

Her brain was still sluggishly trying to catch up, thought processes slowed to a crawl at the influx of physical sensations caused by his lips on her skin.  

He leaned over her now, his green eyes—wait, green? Weren’t they supposed to be blue?—bright like the canopy of leaves above them as he softly whispered. “Marinette, it’s time to get up.” 

But she didn’t want to, not when Adrien’s body felt so good pressed against her own. 

Wait. 

Adrien’s body…?

“Marinette.” 

Her eyes flying open, Marinette sprang upward with a gasp, nearly clipping Adrien’s chin with her forehead in the process.

He fell back on his haunches, gazing at her in alarm. “Are you alright?” He frowned, brows furrowed above eyes that were the same shade as the trees behind him. The sight brought with it the memory of his weight pinning her down, the phantom sensation of his kisses sweeping along her jaw.

Marinette leapt to her feet, eager to put some distance between them and shake off the lingering remnants of her dream.

"FINE, I'm fine!" She blurted, looking anywhere but in his direction. "Just a weird dream, that's all." And by weird, I mean weirdly enjoyable, which is what's making it so weird in the first place... She made a face. Obviously, the events of last night's party were still weighing heavily on her mind, judging by the havoc being wrought on her senses.

Nevertheless, hormones and Hot Tub Hijinks aside, she didn't actually want Adrien. Not like that, anyway. The only reason she was confused was because in her dream she had mistaken him for Félix. 

It was just her mind playing tricks on her, not some subconscious expression of carnal desire. 

Because that would be Weird. 

Adrien came up beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Still on edge and oversensitive from her dream romp, Marinette shied away from the touch instinctively, her stomach clenching with guilt when it caused his eyes to flicker.  

For a moment it almost appeared like he wanted to say something else, only to think better of it at the last second.

Instead, he gave her an indecipherable look, before spinning on his heel and heading for the path back through the woods. 

"Come on," he tossed over his shoulder, not bothering to wait and see if she was following. “Your parents have been calling us."

-x- 

By the time they made it back to where the boat was docked, her parents had set out an assortment of cool drinks and snacks; small things to help keep everyone hydrated, and to combat the heat of the afternoon sun beating down on them. 

Sitting in the shade of a linden tree, Marinette savoured the last of her watermelon slice, basking in the peace and contentedness only a beautiful day on the lake could bring. 

Félix and Adrien were down by the water’s edge, ostensibly searching for critters in the reeds, but having more success producing enough racket to scare off every living creature within half a kilometre. 

All it had taken was one offhand comment about frog racing to send them scrambling for the shoreline, consumed by the idea of making their amphibian racing dreams a reality. It was eerily reminiscent of their childhood days, and proof that no matter how grown-up Adrien and Félix Agreste might appear on the outside, they were still those same little boys she'd known at heart. 

She watched the two of them fondly, her eyes drawn to each in turn. They looked like little kids, laughing and talking lowly amongst themselves as they poked at the underbrush, no stone left unturned in their hunt for creepy crawlies. 

They were bare-chested, blond hair hanging in their faces as they bent over whatever had caught their interest. Adrien was prodding it with a stick, Félix observing over his shoulder. All of a sudden she heard a shout and saw Adrien rear back, followed by a loud splash. Both boys emerged from the lake, completely drenched. 

“Adrien!” Félix shouted, grabbing his brother in a headlock as he dragged him back towards the water, dunking him under even as Adrien laughed hysterically. 

Marinette giggled. Yup, just like when they were kids. Adrien had a knack for making trouble for his older brother, if only to get some kind of reaction out of him. 

Félix had always been too serious for his own good, even when they were children. He was like his father in that way. So from a young age, Adrien had made a point of behaving as outlandishly as possible in order to draw the emotions—whether positive or negative—out of the older Agreste boy. He was pretty much the only one who could do it; a fact that had always made Marinette burn with a silent sort of jealousy. 

She'd wanted to be able to do that for Félix too—wanted to be the cause of his happiness, the one at whom he directed his little half-smiles and fond glances when he thought no one was looking.

Now though, it made her happy to see how close the two brothers were. She was glad they had each other to rely upon, what with the isolated nature of the lives they lead. Homeschooled from a young age, trapped within the gilded walls of their beautiful houses. 

After all, even a beautiful prison was still a prison in the end.  

Hence why Marinette was relieved to know that at least the Agreste brothers would always have one another to help combat their no doubt perpetual loneliness. 

Adrien met her eye across the distance and grinned broadly, his hair a golden halo around his head, bangs falling into his eyes as he gave her a little wave. Her heart stuttered in her chest before picking up its beat just a little bit faster, a swooping sensation in her stomach. 

And her. They would always have her beside them as well. 

Wiggling her fingers in reply Marinette smiled back at him, filled with a pleasant warmth that had nothing to do with the sweet-smelling summer air around them, or the sun shining above.  

Her gaze then turned to Félix, unable to prevent herself from admiring the way his forearms flexed as he attempted to wring the water from his hair. They really were in a league of their own, these Agreste boys. 

Bridgette settling on the grass beside her brought an end to Marinette’s moment of introspection, tender sentiments scattering like a cloud of fireflies at the sound of the other girl’s voice. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, you know.” 

Marinette stiffened, her gaze darting from where it had been resting on Félix to take in the knowing look on Bridgette’s face, feeling like a child that had been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. 

Except instead of stealing sweet treats, she’d been caught ogling someone else’s boyfriend. 

Oh god, is she going to challenge me to a duel? Are we going to have to fight to the death??? 

“UHH—” 

PLEASE NO I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE. 

To her surprise, rather than throwing the gauntlet, Bridgette laughed brightly. 

“It’s okay, there’s no need to be embarrassed! I think it’s sweet actually.” She winked at Marinette like they were sharing some kind of secret. 

Marinette stared back at her, wide-eyed. Respectfully, what in the fresh hell is going on???

Although she had admittedly very little experience in the realm of trying to steal other people’s boyfriends, she was fairly certain this was not how most of these confrontations usually played out. She'd expected there to be more slapping, or for the other girl to accuse her of being a no-good, two-timing hussy at the very least. 

Not this… amicable girl talk. 

She sent up a quick prayer to the powers that be for guidance. 

Are you there, God? It’s me, Marinette. Quick question: am I a joke to you? 

The two girls sat in the grass, both gazing off in the boys' direction, watching them gallivanting around the lakeshore. From an outside perspective, it probably made for a fairly picturesque, idyllic tableau. 

Upon closer inspection, however, any random passerby would almost certainly be able to smell the smoke wafting out of Marinette's ears, generated by her furiously whirling mind. 

“You guys must really love one another,” Bridgette added with a sigh, sounding—of all things—envious. “He totally looks at you the same way. It’s clear that he’s mad about you.” 

Marinette blinked, beginning to get the distinct impression that she might, perhaps, be missing out on some very crucial information. Namely, what in the actual fuck was going on.

Which really would not have been all that unusual. 

“I'm sorry...who are we talking about? I think I zoned out for a bit there.” She admitted with a wince. 

Bridgette threw her head back, laughing as though Marinette had just told a particularly funny joke and not asked an honest question. 

“I don’t blame you,” her dark eyes twinkled with amusement, a deep mysterious blue like the night sky. She gave Marinette a sympathetic smile. “They really are unfairly pretty, aren’t they?” 

As one they turned, gazing upon Adrien and Félix in all of their topless glory. 

The two girls shared an emphatic nod.

“So pretty,” Marinette agreed. Finally, something they could commiserate on. 

Bridgette leaned back on her hands, legs stretched out on the grass in front of them. 

“For the record, I was talking about you and Adrien and how adorably in love the two of you are.”

Marinette opened her mouth, a denial ready on the tip of her tongue. She stopped at the last second however.

While she was relieved to discover that Bridgette had been talking about Adrien, and not Félix as she’d originally assumed—thank god for small mercies—she couldn’t exactly vehemently deny the other girl’s statement, seeing how she and Adrien were trying to convince people of that very thing.  

Correcting Bridgette's assumption that she and Adrien were madly in love would risk blowing their cover and revealing that they’d been faking it the entire time. Marinette was no 007, but even she knew there would be no recovering from a gaff that severe. So she was left with no choice but to stutter out a weak “Is that so?” and hope that Bridgette didn’t pick up on her discomfort. 

Which thankfully she did not, seeing how she went on speaking.

“You’re really lucky, you know that?” Bridgette stared off into the distance, her expression turning wistful. “He looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. If only all guys were as capable of being so open and honest with their feelings...”

Marinette followed the other girl’s line of sight, unsurprised to find her gaze resting on Félix. It didn’t take a genius or even a particularly intuitive person to figure out who she was alluding to. Marinette felt torn between wanting to comfort Bridgette—who was growing more forlorn and woebegone with every passing moment—and wanting to flee for the hills, desperate to avoid being put in the position of having to give love advice to her rival. 

She settled at last on a middle ground, deciding to speak from her experience as Félix’s childhood friend. 

“Félix doesn’t have the easiest time expressing himself, as I’m sure you’ve realized,” here it was Marinette’s turn to give her a sympathetic look. “He’s definitely more of an ‘actions speak louder than words' kind of guy. The best way to tell how he actually feels is to go based on what he does, not what he says.”

Bridgette frowned thoughtfully, her tone considering. “I guess so...” 

Catching movement from the corner of her eye, Marinette turned to find Adrien beckoning her over rather insistently. She stood, grateful for the excuse to escape the conversation and the increasingly awkward atmosphere. 

“Well, I’d better go see what that one’s up to… God knows he has a way of getting into trouble if I leave him alone for too long,” she paused at the last second, turning to look back down at the other girl uncertainly. Bridgette remained seated, gazing off into space with a thousand-yard stare that Marinette couldn't help but find vaguely unsettling on someone who was otherwise so cheerful.  

She looks like a sad baby animal in one of those awful commercials... GAH, I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE.  

And so she decided to speak honestly, love rivalry be damned. 

“For what it’s worth, Félix has never taken the time to introduce anyone to his family. So that has to count for something, right?" Bridgette perked up slightly, meeting Marinette's eye. She donned her best attempt at an encouraging smile, hoping the strain wasn't too obvious at the corners.   

"Besides, the best way to get answers is to ask for them, so if something's really bothering you, you could always try bringing it up with him. I mean, where's the harm in that? Communication is the key to a successful relationship as they say!" She let out a stilted laugh, delivering her last line with what was probably a serious contender for the title of Corniest Thumbs Up of All Time. 

Bridgette merely stared at her. 

Marinette grit her teeth, repressing the urge to scream. Well, now that I have thoroughly and irrevocably embarrassed myself, I think my work here is done. 

And so she did what any other mature and reasonable person would do in her position. 

She bolted.  

-x-

Chapter Text

Leaving Bridgette alone with her thoughts in the shade of the trees, Marinette hightailed it across the grass, fighting the overwhelming urge to scream. 

What kind of idiot tries to give relationship counselling to their love rival? She grimaced, wanting to kick herself in the ass for winding up in that position in the first place. 

If anything, she should have been actively trying to sabotage their relationship, emphasizing all of Félix’s faults and negative characteristics so Bridgette would recognize that the two of them weren’t meant for one another after all. For a brief moment, she’d even considered it, before being overcome by a wave of shame. 

Although she claimed to love Félix, Marinette wasn’t sure she could stomach the thought of such malevolence, regardless of whether it would help further her cause in the end. The downfall of Félix and Bridgette’s relationship was already going to weigh heavily on her conscience when Félix inevitably realized he was in love with her and decided to leave his current girlfriend. She didn’t need to add any unnecessary guilt by being mean-spirited on top of it all.    

Her mind in tumult, Marinette joined Adrien where he stood by the wharf, looking far sunnier than she was feeling at present. 

“I totally forgot,” he said, all but vibrating with excitement. "I have a surprise for you." Beckoning her to follow, he started toward the boat with a concerning amount of pep in his step. 

Marinette blinked at his back, her brows creeping up toward her hairline.

“A surprise?” 

Hurrying to catch up, she rounded the corner just in time for the grand reveal. Adrien straightened from where he’d been crouched, arms spread wide as he gestured proudly and with quite a bit of pizzazz towards the machine bobbing in the water.  

“Ta-da!” He cried, his eyes practically sparkling as he beamed at her. 

Marinette frowned. 

“What,” she eyed the piece of machinery distastefully, “is that?”  

Adrien smirked, his expression radiating self-satisfaction. “This is what a jet ski is supposed to look like.” 

Marinette gave him an unimpressed look, turning her attention back to the jet ski in question.   

It was certainly flashy, she conceded, examining the glittering lime green detailing on the black bow. It was undoubtedly the newest model on the market, and probably the most expensive one at that. 

Her lip curled. 

“I hope you don’t expect me to get on that thing with you.”

“Of course I do!” Adrien didn’t even spare her a glance, too busy strapping on his life vest. “Just wait until you try it out—this baby can get up to a hundred kilometres an hour without even really pushing it! It’s incredible.” 

He picked over the pile, finding another vest that looked to be about her size and handing it to her. 

“This feels wrong,” Marinette complained, even as she shrugged it on with great reluctance. “I feel like a two-timer... I can’t believe you’re encouraging my infidelity.” She shot him an accusatory glare. 

Ignoring her petulance, Adrien zipped up her vest, fussing around with it until he was satisfied that all of the straps were properly done up and tightened. “It’s technically not infidelity if the other party can no longer be counted among the living.” He pointed out. 

She gasped, outraged. “My jet ski isn't dead! She’s just been... getting her beauty sleep, that's all.” Marinette attempted to cross her arms, only to be foiled by her life vest, whose puffiness was seriously impeding her ability to bring her arms close to her chest. 

Adrien’s brows rose. “That might take a while.” 

Marinette swatted him, her hand bouncing off his chest as the padding of his life vest cushioned him from the worst of the blow. 

“Where do you two think you’re going?” A voice called from above. 

Freezing in place, they both turned to find her father and Adrien’s father staring at them from the boat's upper deck. 

Gabriel gazed down at them expectantly, quirking an eyebrow in his son’s direction as he awaited a response to his question. 

Flustered, Adrien shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, father, I just wanted to show Marinette the new jet ski. Since it's here, and, um, I figured we could maybe take it out? As long as that’s alright with you, of course—?”

The Agreste patriarch held up a hand, preemptively cutting off Adrien's rapid descent into babbling. “As long as you wear the proper equipment and promise to exercise some prudence, I don’t see any point in stopping you…”

Adrien's face lit up in a smile, his mouth opening to no doubt profusely thank his father for the magnanimity he was displaying by behaving like an actual human parent for once in his goddamned life. But Gabriel merely waved off his son’s excitement, not yet finished with his diatribe. 

“Just make sure you return within a reasonable window, Adrien. We will be sitting down to eat no later than five-thirty.”

“I’m gonna teach your dad here the ancient art of grill mastery, so you definitely don’t want to miss it,” Tom slung an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders, thoroughly dampening the effect of Gabriel Agreste’s particular brand of stern paternal disapproval. Adrien’s father bore it with the look of a long-suffering martyr, having grown accustomed over the years to Tom Dupain-Cheng’s lack of respect for such pesky things as 'personal boundaries'. 

"I'm sure it will be an enlightening experience for all..." Gabriel intoned, his expression dour. 

Her father threw them a cheeky wink and a wave before disappearing from view, dragging Adrien’s father along with him. "Have fun, kids!" 

Marinette stared after them, shaking her head slightly. Sometimes I wonder whether my father really has a death wish after all... 

“Well, you heard the man!" Adrien clapped, not wasting any time before sliding onto the seat. "We’re burning daylight here.”

He motioned for her to take the spot behind him, levelling her with a knee-weakening smile for good measure. 

“C’mon princess, I’m about to show you a whole new world.”

Marinette swallowed, very deliberately ignoring the pesky butterflies that filled her stomach at the roguish look he was giving her. 

“I’m probably going to regret this, aren’t I?” She asked, already knowing the answer to that question. 

-x- 

When they finally stopped about half an hour later, Marinette couldn’t help but admit defeat. 

“Okay, okay! You win,” she said, disembarking from the jet ski and landing in the shallows with a splash. Immediately, her toes sank into the sandy bottom of the lake, clouds of silt rising through the water as she stretched, enjoying the feeling after having been seated for so long. 

She rolled her shoulders. “That thing definitely has my jet ski beat when it comes to speed. Although I still think mine has more of an ‘it’ factor.”

“The only ‘it’ you need to factor in when it comes to your jet ski is whether it will ever work again.”

“Ha. Ha.” She deadpanned. 

Adrien grinned, raking a hand through his hair and pushing it back from his face. He looked hopelessly windswept and exceedingly handsome where he stood in the water, gilded by the light coming off the lake behind him. His green eyes shone brightly against his tan, the same shade as the summer leaves around them. 

Marinette was momentarily struck dumb by the image—not only because of how attractive he was, even in his dorky orange life vest—but because the sight of him tugged at something within her, ringing with the nostalgia of a fond memory.  

Why does this feel so familiar...? 

She did her best to shake off the unsettling sensation of déjà vu.

Of course it was familiar. Although they might not have ever come to this exact spot, they’d seen a million just like it in the many summers they’d spent adventuring and exploring along the lakeshore.

She’d seen Adrien standing in the sun plenty of times over the years. This wasn’t anything she hadn’t witnessed before. 

Apart from the unbearable smugness that was practically oozing out of his pores. That was a more recent development. 

“I’m not gonna say I told you so…" Adrien drawled, his eyes twinkling. "But I’m also not gonna say that I’m not thinking it. Like, right now for instance.”

His grin widened at the look on her face, morphing into a full-on laugh when she flipped him the bird.  

Marinette was capable of recognizing that her jet ski was outclassed in all departments by this newest addition to the Agreste's top-of-the-line toy trunk. It had felt like they were flying as they cut across the surface of the lake, faster than she'd ever dreamed possible. In that moment her entire world had narrowed down to the whir of the motor, the bright blue sky above, and the warmth of Adrien's body in front of her as they raced over the waves. 

They had been going so fast the wind had practically ripped the sound of her shrieking and cackling from her lungs. Marinette could still sense that lingering exhilaration now, pumping through her veins in a way that left her feeling completely and utterly alive. And it was obvious that Adrien felt the same. He was practically buzzing, his eyes alight from the adrenaline. 

“Come on, there’s something I want to show you,” he said, anchoring the jet ski swiftly. They shrugged out of their life vests, leaving them on the shore to dry as they made for the forest just beyond the beach’s embankment. The path was decidedly overgrown, but Adrien seemed to know the way, navigating the rocky footpath with an ease and familiarity that told her he knew wherever they were going quite well. 

As the woods grew thicker around them, the trail steepened, until at last they arrived at the crest of the hill, the landscape levelling off abruptly. 

Marinette’s breath caught at the sight that met her eyes. 

They had emerged into a clearing in the forest. It was brilliantly green, dappled by the sunbeams stretching down from the treetops far overhead, and although quite nice, it wouldn’t have been considered anything particularly remarkable were it not for the sheer cliff face spread out before them.

“A waterfall!” Marinette gasped, joy and awe filling her chest in equal measure. There were a few in the area—they were fairly common in mountainous regions after all—but she’d never seen one this close up before. 

“It’s so beautiful!” She gushed, making her way to the edge of the pond. She crouched down, staring into its depths. It was so clear she could easily make out the shape of the rocks all the way at the bottom. “How did you know this was here?”

Adrien stood behind her, content to watch as she took it all in.

His gaze drifted away, scanning the clearing around them as though he too were seeing it for the first time. Or perhaps the first time in a long time. 

“I used to come here with my mom when I was little. This was our special spot.” 

He wandered over to a rocky outcropping, finding the most comfortable-looking one to perch upon. 

“She used to tell me that everyone needed to have their own special spot... A secret place where they could hide away when they needed to, somewhere they felt comfortable and completely free to be themselves." Here he smiled slightly to himself, his gaze losing focus. "This was hers, but she said she was willing to share it with me. Not Félix, or my father. Just me.”

His expression was tender, shades of the childlike wonder of that little boy peeking through as he continued speaking. 

“I was probably seven or eight when she brought me here for the first time. We came here every summer after that, up until she got sick.” Marinette watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tilted his head back to examine the forest canopy above. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to come back since. It just felt...wrong, somehow, the thought of coming here alone.”

The sound of rushing water and the forest noises fell away as she focused on the cadence of Adrien’s voice, observing the way his shoulders rose and fell in time with his breathing, releasing a little bit of the weight he’d been carrying around all these years with every exhalation. 

“Maybe I just wasn’t ready. Until now.”

His eyes connected with hers and Marinette found herself transfixed. There was something mysterious in their brilliant green depths—so similar in shade to his mother’s—that left her unable to tear her gaze away, tantalizing her like some kind of secret message in a code she just might be able to decipher if she stared at it long enough...

“But I know she would have wanted me to come back here. And I think she’d be okay with me sharing this place with you.” 

Unbidden, Marinette’s eyes welled with tears. She tried to blink them away as discreetly as possible, desperate to keep Adrien from noticing. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel worse by turning into a blubbering mess in front of him. Especially since she wasn’t upset so much as she was incredibly touched by the gesture.

The fact that Adrien had been willing to share something so precious with her left her chest so full of emotion that she almost couldn’t keep it from spilling over. 

Clearing her throat to dislodge the lump that had settled there, Marinette fidgeted, growing increasingly uncomfortable under the weight of Adrien's stare. It was equal in intensity to the tingle-inducing look she'd grown accustomed to receiving from him, but this one held none of the usual heat. It still caused her skin to break out in gooseflesh though, even as the rest of her body felt like it had been turned inside out—all of the squishy bits she made so much of an effort to hide laid bare before Adrien's all-seeing eyes.   

Aiming to lighten the atmosphere, she decided it was probably in both of their best interests to steer the conversation back to safer waters. 

“Well, thank you. I feel honoured to be included in such an exclusive club," Marinette cast her eyes about, pretending to survey their surroundings like an appraiser. "This is a much better hideout than my treehouse anyway, so I’m happy for the upgrade.” 

“OH MY GOD, I FORGOT ABOUT THE TREEHOUSE.”

Adrien burst into gales of laughter, no doubt replaying the memory of one of her greatest shames in his mind's eye. 

Marinette sat there watching him shake with mirth, feeling both pleased that her diversion had worked and piqued that one of the most traumatic moments of her young life was still regarded with such hilarity by all of her friends and family. 

When they were seven, Marinette had gotten it into her head that she needed to have her own secret hideout—a place that would be a refuge from all the ills of the world and, perhaps most importantly of all, a 'No Boys Allowed' zone. 

Only, she hadn’t been capable of building it herself. So she had to enlist the help of her father. 

The same man who, it was crucial to note, should have been legally forbidden from ever attempting to build, assemble, or create anything that was not edible under any circumstances. 

“You—HA—how long were you stuck in that tree for?” Was the first intelligible thing she was able to decipher through his guffawing. 

“Three hours, fifteen minutes and forty-two seconds,” Marinette rattled off automatically, which ignited another wave of hysterical laughter. Adrien had fallen to the ground at this point, clutching at his stomach as he wheezed. Marinette crossed her arms, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. 

You get stuck in a tree one time, and suddenly it’s the funniest thing anyone’s ever heard.

And pretty much everyone had heard it, since her parents had brought it up at nearly every event and family gathering for the past ten years.

She pouted. 

“Man, your dad really has a knack for construction,” Adrien sighed, wiping the moisture from his eyes and grinning at her from his place on the forest floor. 

"I'll say... Ugh, and the worst part of it all was that Félix was the one who found me screaming bloody murder and bawling my eyes out in a spruce tree.” She covered her face with her hands, reliving the humiliation all over again. 

At that age, she had just been in the process of figuring out that there were boys, there were cute boys, and then, above them all, there was Félix. Her crush had been in its fledgling stages then, just beginning to stretch its wings. It was a miracle it had survived the horror of that moment. 

Come to think of it, that was probably why Félix had such a hard time considering her as potential girlfriend material. Maybe every time he looked at her, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the time he’d found her in the ruins of her dubiously constructed treehouse, moments after she’d peed her pants out of fear.  

He’d never told anyone about that part, as far as she knew—a fact which Marinette was immensely grateful for. If she had it her way, that secret would die with the two of them. 

“Yeah, I remember that,” Adrien’s tone was thoughtful, his eyes glazing over as though he too were lost in the memory. “We were playing by the lake when we heard you screaming.”

We...? 

“Wait,” Marinette’s eyes widened, her hands falling limp at her sides as she stared at him. “You were there too?!”

Did that mean he had also seen—?

Adrien pressed his lips together. “If you’re wondering whether I remember you peeing your pants, then the answer is yes.”

—OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—!!

Marinette groaned pathetically, drawing her knees toward her chest.    

She squeezed her eyes shut, clasping her hands over her ears as she tried in vain to block out the reality of her situation.

There were now THREE witnesses. Which was a horrible, no good, Very Bad Development.  

“Oh god, this is terrible! I can’t believe it! Why didn’t you tell me?” She cracked one eye open to glare at him, uncovering her ears enough to hear his response. 

“I thought you remembered,” Adrien shrugged, leaning back against the rock behind him as he made himself more comfortable. “Plus, it didn’t seem like the kind of memory you’d particularly enjoy revisiting so I just… figured I’d be better not bringing it up.”

He gave her a slow once over, taking in the way she lay curled up on the ground in a full-body cringe. His expression very clearly said: And I was right.

But he thankfully had the tact to not say so aloud. 

“Besides, it’s not that bad... We were just kids. And it was only me and Félix that saw you, so—”

Marinette straightened, holding up a hand to cut him off. “That is precisely why it’s so terrible! Because if you remember it, then that means that Félix definitely remembers it, which is probably why he finds the concept of dating me so repugnant!”

“I know about it, and I still dated you,” Adrien pointed out, one eyebrow raised. 

She waved a hand dismissively. “That’s completely different, and you know it. We don’t actually like each other. We’re doing this for scheming, self-serving purposes. I need to make Félix fall in love with me. Which is significantly more challenging...” And seemingly less and less plausible with each passing day, the thought was accompanied by a sinking feeling in her stomach. 

Adrien gazed at her from across the clearing, his expression inscrutable. His eyes were dark, a side effect of the partial tree cover above them, which was throwing light and shadow across his face with every movement of the leaves. 

He appeared to be deep in thought, considering something. 

The silence drew on, treading the fine line between peacefulness and discomfort. Marinette shifted on the ground, wincing at the roughness of the forest floor beneath her. Something was digging into her left buttcheek. She leaned over slightly, sweeping out what turned out to be a moderately sized rock. No wonder her ass had been going numb. 

Finally, Adrien spoke. 

“Why does it have to be Félix?” He asked. 

-x- 

Chapter Text

Adrien’s question broke through the silence, blindsiding her with its suddenness. 

Why does it have to be Félix? The words rang in her ears. 

Although Marinette thought she understood the framework of the question, she had no sweet clue where it was coming from. Why did Adrien suddenly want to know her reasoning after so many years of listening to her talk about her crush on his brother? The timing seemed incredibly odd, even more so now that they had been ‘dating’ for almost an entire week. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, not having to feign confusion since her befuddlement was, unfortunately, all too genuine.

Did he mean his question in the sense of: Why does it have to be Félix, my older brother?  

Or, much more dangerously, did he mean: Why does it have to be Félix, and not me?  

Because the former, Marinette knew how to handle. The latter might prove much trickier. 

The reality was, at this point, there was no denying that she was attracted to Adrien. She enjoyed spending time with him, doing coupley things like holding hands and going on dates. And she had really enjoyed making out with him last night. But Marinette wasn’t sure what any of that meant for their friendship, or for the fate of this whole endeavour. 

It didn't help that Adrien, for some reason, wouldn't meet her eye, choosing instead to gaze in the direction of the waterfall, appearing thoroughly engrossed in the cascading water. Which, suffice to say, left her no closer to deciphering his intentions. 

Marinette shook herself, trying to gather the few shreds of common sense she had left. 

What was she thinking? Of course he didn’t mean it in the ‘why him, not me’ sense. There was no way that Adrien Agreste had actual feelings for her. He probably just wanted to know why—of all of the boys in the world—she had to be head-over-heels for his brother. It was undoubtedly a bit uncomfortable for him. She was his best friend, Félix was his brother. Things had the potential to get very awkward very fast. 

And besides, up until recently Adrien had been keeping himself quite happily occupied with another pretty, dark-haired girl. So it wasn’t like he had been melodramatically pining for her from afar or anything.  

Surely if he was secretly holding a burning, passionate flame of love for her, then wouldn’t he have had more difficulty dating someone else? The rational part of her brain pointed out. 

No, she decided, Adrien definitely wasn’t in love with her. But she supposed she did owe him an explanation, or at the very least the truth about her mission to snag his brother. He had agreed to help her after all, and he was being a remarkably good sport about the whole thing.

“Adrien, I don’t know how to tell you this… But your brother… is kind of really hot?” 

Adrien made a face, whether at her half-assed attempt at a joke or the implication that his brother was fine as hell—which, like, hello? Everyone knew there was no such thing as an ugly Agreste—she didn’t know. 

Sensing that it would behoove her to respond more seriously this time, Marinette went on.

“If you’re asking why I have a crush on Félix, then the answer is that I don’t really know. I suppose it’s just always been there to some extent... I’ve never really thought about why before,” she pulled at a stalk of grass beside her, tugging without tearing it from the ground. “But I guess my earliest recollection would be from when we were little.”

She felt Adrien’s eyes on her. Now it was her turn to avoid eye contact, staring down at the sad little patch of grass, surrounded by rocks on all sides. 

The forest scenery around them melted away, becoming the sun-drenched backyard of her memories. 

“We were playing by the lake. I couldn't have been any more than four or five at the time. You guys had ganged up on me—again—and chosen whatever game we were playing… I can’t remember what it was now. So I decided to stage a protest. Meaning that I went off to sulk by myself.” She huffed out a laugh and heard Adrien do the same. Peeking at him from the corner of her eye, she found him staring at her intently. The earnest look on his face had her quickly focusing back on the ground. Rocks and dirt were much easier to deal with than whatever lay behind the softness in his green eyes. 

“Your parents found me, and I thought they were mad that I didn’t want to play what you guys wanted, so I started crying.” She had been so afraid they were going to take her home, or forbid her from ever playing with the boys again. The infallible wisdom and logic of a five-year-old’s brain, she supposed. 

“But instead of getting mad, your mom hugged me and told me that she wanted me to look out for you both. That you needed me just as much as I needed you. And then she said, I’ll never forget this part—”

Marinette was completely lost in her recollection now, remembering the warmth of Émilie’s embrace settling over her shoulders like sunshine.   

“—‘those two were made for each other.’” She quoted, echoing those few precious words from so long ago—the ones she’d permanently etched into her heart and carried with her ever since. 

“I’m not sure whether I was even meant to hear it, or if she was speaking to your dad, but I knew she was talking about Félix and I because at that exact moment he smiled at me... I remember it, clear as day.” She smiled softly to herself, her heart swelling against her ribcage as she recalled that little boy’s grin. Each display of warmth and affection from Félix was something to be treasured, made infinitely more valuable by their rarity.  

Marinette had expected Adrien to maybe be a bit skeptical of her story—the human mind was not an inerrant source after all, much less that of a child—or perhaps even upset that she’d been keeping this conversation with his late mother a secret from him for so many years. She had mentally prepared herself for any number of reactions, with varying degrees of emotional intensity. 

What she hadn’t anticipated, however, was this… blank nothingness of a non-reaction.

Adrien sat as still as a statue before her, so stony and closed off that she wondered for a moment whether he had even heard what she’d said. 

She had no idea what lay behind the impenetrable wall of his expression, but whatever it was, she had the distinct impression that she did not want to hear it. The thought of Adrien poking and prodding at one of her most cherished memories was enough to make her sick to her stomach. 

When he finally found his voice, Marinette couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t. “So… you’re telling me that the reason you have a crush on my brother is because you think my mother wanted you to be together?” Adrien sounded disbelieving, his tone bordering on rude. “That’s it?” 

Immediately falling on the defensive, Marinette withdrew, her emotional walls rapidly reassembling as she tried to protect her precious memory from further scrutiny. 

“You asked me why Félix and I told you. I never promised it was going to make sense,” she replied, sullenly ripping at the grass beside her. She plucked the stalks out by the handful, relishing in the act of destruction. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

This was exactly why she had never shared the story with anyone before, she thought with a stab of regret. She hadn’t wanted it to become tarnished. 

Adrien, to his credit, appeared to realize the effect of his words, judging by the rueful expression that overtook his face. He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing several times before he spoke again.

“I’m not disappointed,” he said, his tone softening. “Just...surprised, is all.”

Marinette probably would have believed him more had it not been for the look in his eye, which told her there might be more to his feelings than the platitudes he was spouting. 

Still, he did look genuinely remorseful as he leaned forward, pulling his knees towards his chest and resting his elbows atop them. He scanned her face at length, green eyes probing hers like he was searching for something; some kind of answer to a question she would have gladly given, had she known what he was after. 

“Is that really it?” He asked, pausing meaningfully. “The entire reason you’ve had a crush on Félix for so long is because you think my mother picked him for you, like some kind of weird arranged child marriage?” 

Annoyed and slightly wounded by his tone, Marinette decided she’d had her fill of the current line of conversation and wanted to shut it down. She’d heard quite enough of Adrien’s opining on the matter, thank you very much. 

“Well, I'm also physically attracted to him, so that does help,” she sniped, knowing that it would annoy Adrien to be reminded of how handsome she found his brother. 

As expected, her barb landed perfectly, judging by the way Adrien's face twisted in a scowl. 

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear by now,” he grimaced, looking a bit green about the gills. 

He stared at her for a beat longer, appearing as though he wanted to say more. 

“We should get back,” he said at last, breaking eye contact as he rose to his feet with a grunt. He dusted himself off primly, heedless of the fact that they were about to get back in the water. “Everyone’s probably waiting for us.”

Marinette stood as well, loosening her fist to let the last few stalks of grass be carried away by the wind. 

“Yeah.”

She wished he had said what he was going to say. She was glad he hadn’t. 

Her eyes drilling into the space between his shoulder blades, Marinette followed Adrien back to the jet ski without another word. 

-x- 

The rest of the day passed pretty much how she’d expected it to. 

They ate more delicious food—Adrien and Félix both gorged themselves at dinner, having second and then third helpings, much to the delight of her parents—swam in the beautiful blue-green water of the lake, and generally just tried to make the most of their vacation while it lasted. 

Marinette was relieved to note that any lingering tension between her and Adrien had faded with the drone of the jet ski’s motor; burned away by the blinding light of the sun reflecting off the waves. By the time they made it back to join their families, it felt as though they’d left any thoughts of Félix, Émilie, and unfulfilled promises a world away—the remnants of their conversation lying forgotten on the shore by their little clearing in the woods.  

The two of them helped to clean up after supper, laughing and joking around with her parents and Bridgette while Félix and Gabriel looked on, the latter sipping slowly from a glass of wine. Everything felt so mundane, and yet… Not. 

Bridgette and Félix were still off in their own lovey-dovey world—hopelessly ensnared in each other’s orbit and oblivious to anything and everything else around them.  

And she was still hyper-aware of every movement of Adrien’s body, cataloguing each accidental brush of skin and lengthy look until she was certain she would burst into flames, all her nerve endings alight with a pleasant sort of inferno. 

The boat cast off at sunset, wanting to make it back to the marina before nightfall.

Sleepy and sated after a long day spent in the fresh air, she and Adrien curled up on the bow, the sun warming their backs as it began its descent behind the mountains, painting the world around them in fiery shades of red and gold. 

Marinette fought to keep her eyes open, the heaviness of her lids increasing as the boat rocked gently beneath them. At some point she must have slipped into a doze, because the next thing she knew she was being jolted awake, the sound of raised voices wrenching back the haze of sleep. 

She scanned the horizon blearily, squinting as she tried to figure out where the disturbance was coming from. Her eyes landed on the old rail bridge that marked the outer edge of the Agrestes' property line, and the group standing atop it.  

Their whooping echoed across the water, shattering the peaceful serenity that fell over the lake at golden hour. 

Bingo. 

“What are they doing?” She leaned forward, trying to get a better look. There was quite a large crowd up there from what she could tell, counting at least a dozen people, if not more. They appeared to be around their age, most likely teenagers based on the style of their brightly coloured clothing and the ungodly amount of noise they were producing.

Their hooting and hollering—which had at first been no more than a faint echo—was steadily growing louder as the boat drew nearer.

“Apart from trying to prove Darwin’s theory of evolution, you mean?” Marinette glanced over, surprised by the strength of Adrien’s reaction. He frowned darkly, his gaze fixed on the crowd. 

Curious in spite of herself, she turned her attention back to the bridge and its occupants. While most seemed to have enough common sense to keep their feet firmly planted on the deck, an alarming number of them were crawling over the railing, shimmying across the narrow ledge to a platform near the midway point.  

Adrien scoffed. “Just another group of simpletons risking life and limb for a dumbass dare.” 

Marinette quirked a brow. She hadn’t heard anything about this. “A dare?” 

“It’s been a trend this summer, apparently,” he explained, picking up on her confusion. “Friends challenging each other to see who’s brave enough to jump off the top and down into the lake. They’re calling it a test of courage or something ridiculous.” 

“Is it safe?” She eyed the distance from the platform to the water. It had to be at least an eight, if not ten metre drop. She repressed a shudder.  

“I mean, the distance is definitely survivable. Olympic diving platforms are usually that height or higher,” Adrien shrugged. “It’s more the uncertainty of what lies below and the possibility of passing boats that makes me question their sanity.” 

They both sobered. Boating accidents were thankfully rare, but not entirely unheard of on the lake. All it took was one idiot with too much to drink and too little common sense for bad things to happen. They’d all heard the horror stories.   

“Diving doesn’t bother me... It’s the thought of not knowing what awaits you at the bottom that should be frightening.”  

Marinette hummed in agreement, watching as someone in a pair of bright pink swim trunks teetered precariously on the edge of the platform, nothing but the yawning void beneath their feet.

The sound of their screams as they fell continued to ring in her ears long after they’d disappeared under the waves. 

“You couldn’t pay me enough to do it,” Marinette said eventually, shaking her head as she watched them swim back to shore. Her heart was in her throat just from spectating, forget ever doing it herself. “Screw courage. I care more about surviving into adulthood, thanks.”

Adrien nodded emphatically.

“Amen to that.”

They fist-bumped.

-x-

Chapter Text

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Marinette was beginning to think she might actually be getting the hang of this whole ‘Fake Dating’ thing. 

Was she any closer to getting Félix to bite the bullet and ask her out? 

Well, no. 

But she was at least safe in the knowledge that she and Adrien had, somehow, managed to convince all of the people in their lives that they were dating for real. As a matter of fact, their ruse was so believable that Marinette even found herself starting to buy into it, just a little. 

By now, she and Adrien had fallen into a comfortable routine, practically spending every waking moment together. If he wasn’t at her house, hanging out with her family, eating food and playing games, then she was at his house; watching movies or simply enjoying being in each other's company, even if they were doing separate things. 

It was the exact same dynamic they’d always had, now with the added bonus of things like cuddling on the couch and holding hands. 

And making out. 

They’d been doing a lot of that, too. 

Yes, they’d worked out quite the nice arrangement, if Marinette said so herself. Things were going well. Almost too well, some might say. 

And by some, she mostly meant Alya, who remained skeptical to the point of obstinacy. 

Take the other night on the phone, for example. 

Alya had managed to catch her just as she was getting ready for bed, and without any reasonable excuse at hand, Marinette was effectively cornered—trapped into a conversation she desperately did not want to have. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Were the first words out of her best friend’s mouth. 

Marinette winced. Alya clearly wasn’t in the mood to pull any punches this evening. 

“Sorry, I’ve just been super busy… Haven’t had the chance to respond to my messages.” She knew it was a lame excuse, and one that Alya would see through in a heartbeat.  

“Not too busy to forgo plastering your social media with pics of you and your fake lover though,” Alya pointed out frostily. Marinette began chewing the cuticle on her thumb, a bad habit she’d mostly managed to kick, except for in times of great emotional duress. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I swear it wasn’t intentional. A lot has been going on lately…” She rushed to fill Alya in on the events of the last few days, knowing instinctively that her best friend would only be appeased if she felt Marinette was divulging all of the details. 

Although she might have censored some of the more sordid elements of her and Adrien’s Hot Tub Hijinks. Certain things were best left to the imagination, even between best friends. 

Having expected the occasional laugh or gasp of surprise during her retelling, Marinette was more than a little discomfited to be met only by ringing silence on the other end of the line. There were several long moments after she’d finished speaking where she could almost feel Alya weighing her words.  

“Marinette, girl… You know I am a proud member of Team ‘Make Out With Hot Boys, Consequences Be Damned,’ but this is… a lot. Even for me.” 

Her stomach clenched, recognizing the genuine worry in Alya’s voice. 

Alya went on, measured and uncharacteristically hesitant. “I know you may not want to hear this, but have you ever considered that Adrien might actually have feelings for you?” 

Marinette pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it in horror. 

“ALYA, WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?” 

She knew her voice had probably risen above the acceptable shrillness threshold, but she was too scandalized to care right about then. 

Of course she hadn’t considered the possibility of Adrien having feelings for her, because that was potentially the Worst Possible Thing that could happen in the History of Things That Have Happened.

If Adrien had feelings for her—real, genuine feelings, not just the ‘you've been my best friend since we were basically in diapers’ type feelings—then they were going to have a Serious Problem. 

It would mean that if she were to wind up dating Félix—not if, she silently corrected herself, remembering all the times Rose had espoused the ‘power of positive self-talk’ and ‘manifesting your destiny,’ but when she wound up dating him, her victory would be marred by the fact that being with Félix would mean breaking Adrien’s heart. It was a catastrophic scenario.

And so, she decided, Adrien simply couldn’t like her, because it had the potential to ruin everything. 

Marinette refused to even consider the notion, locking her doubts away in the back of her mind, far from the light of day; content to let them rot where she would never be able to find them again. 

Except it hadn’t quite worked out that way. Because even after she’d hung up the phone, Alya’s words continued to play on repeat in her head, echoing there even now days later. 

The fact that her friend was so convinced that Adrien’s motivations were not all they appeared to be weighed heavily on Marinette’s mind, to the point that she’d found herself on more than one occasion over the last few days with the question ready on the tip of her tongue, desperate for some answers.

She hadn’t been able to find the right moment, but hopefully today would present her with an opportunity. Adrien had texted late last night to let her know that Félix and Bridgette were planning to hang out at the house that afternoon. With only a few days of vacation left, Marinette knew the clock was ticking down, and that she had to use every available moment she could get with Félix to her advantage. 

And maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to get some much-needed answers out of Adrien at the same time. 

-x- 

The humidity was almost stifling as she made her way through the woods to the Agrestes’ house. The heat had been steadily climbing over the past few days, and today promised to be just as hot, if not hotter, than Monday’s scorching temperatures. 

Marinette picked up her pace, already looking forward to the sweet relief of the house's cool, climate-controlled air. Dry branches and vegetation crackling noisily under her feet, she almost missed the sound of raised voices coming from up ahead. 

“—for the last time, I am telling you this is not up for discussion—”

She slowed, coming to a standstill as she tried to listen. That certainly sounded like Gabriel’s voice, but it was pitched so low that it was hard to make out from this distance. She crept forward, staying close to the ground to avoid being seen. 

Another voice rose, louder than Gabriel's, cutting him off. 

“And I am telling you that we are NOT LEAVING!” 

Marinette’s eyes widened in recognition. 

“Félix?” She blurted out, the shock of hearing him raise his voice causing her to speak aloud. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but luckily neither party heard her exclamation, preoccupied as they were.

She couldn’t see Gabriel’s face, but she knew that he was equally as shocked by his son’s outburst. Félix had never once, in the entirety of the time she had known him and probably the time before that, ever raised his voice at his father. 

Until now that is. 

There was no sound for so long that Marinette decided to risk creeping closer, peeking through the foliage in an effort to see what was happening. From her vantage point, she could just make out the back of Gabriel’s head, although Félix remained frustratingly out of view. 

He broke the agonizing silence. 

“Would it kill you, for once in your life, to prioritize your family over work?” A scoff. “Nevermind. There’s no point in even having this conversation, because I already know how it’s going to end. Have a safe trip back to Paris, Father. See you at Christmas.”

A door slammed, and then silence fell again.

Gabriel is leaving? Marinette pressed her lips together, eyebrows shooting up toward her hairline. That couldn’t be right. He’d only just arrived! Not to mention the fact that he’d barely spent any time with his sons.

Even with all of the hours she had spent at his house over the past week, Marinette had only seen the man a handful of times. Gabriel spent most of his days locked away in his office, busy working despite being on holiday. Marinette knew that it bothered Adrien how distant his father was, although he didn’t often give voice to it. The fact that Gabriel was now apparently attempting to cut their family vacation short—once again in the name of work—was probably devastating for his sons. 

And if Félix was handling it badly enough to go as far as yelling at his father and slamming doors, she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Adrien was taking it. 

The thought hit her like a bucket of ice water. 

Oh god, where’s Adrien?

Intent on finding and checking on him immediately, Marinette surged upward, only to falter at the last second when the reality of her situation came crashing down upon her. With no noise to mask the sound of her movements, she was effectively trapped in the underbrush until she could be certain the coast was clear and Gabriel was gone.

The last thing she needed was to piss the man off further by being caught in the act of eavesdropping on his familial drama. How tacky. 

And so she stayed, half-crouched in the bushes, until her muscles began to scream.