Work Text:
Marinette loved designing beautiful clothes and imagining people wearing them. She even liked wearing them herself. But preparing for an event where all eyes would be on her was another thing.
Of course, she was doing it for Adrien. He had mostly retreated from the social scene, because he didn’t like being asked about his father. But even he knew that running a charity went hand in hand with meeting people and this was not enough to make him stop helping people.
So every once in a while they found themselves in their bedroom, taking out their rarely used fancy clothes and shoes.
Well, the fact that Adrien looked absolutely dashing in a tuxedo was likely to make up for the tiring evening ahead, Marinette thought as she eyed him appreciatively.
All he needed was his bowtie. He knew how to tie it, but he loved it when she did it for him. When she was done, she brushed off some invisible pecks of dust from his shoulder and took a step back to admire him.
“You look amazing,” she gushed. “As always.”
“I’m no longer a teen heart-throb,” he shrugged, trying to look modest but she knew better than that.
“Adrien, you’re 25, not 50,” she shot him an unamused look.
“But I’m long past my model prime,” he whined. But in her eyes he looked even better now and she hadn't thought that possible back in the day. In fact, she was sure that he'd be one of those people that aged like fine wine
“Are you fishing for compliments?” She smirked.
“Maybe,” he admitted, dropping the pretense and grinning at her. “Then again, you’ve always been immune to my looks.”
What a ludicrous thought. There she was, practically drooling over him, and he thought this?
“I’ve never been immune,” she tried to sound nonchalant.
“Are you sure? Black wasn’t your favourite colour before,” Adrien winked at her.
She snorted.
“That? I was just stubborn. And also surprisingly good at compartmentalising.”
He smirked in a very familiar way that made her heart flutter. Oh, he totally knew what he did to her.
“Go make heads turn,” she nudged him before turning to the mirror to check her hair.
“They will be turning only because I have you on my arm,” Adrien whispered in her ear, his arms closing around her. Which was quite a feat.
“A heavily pregnant wife, very fetching,” she said dryly as his hand caressed her rather prominent belly. Adrien had asked her again and again if she’d rather stay home and rest but she was sure that two hours wouldn’t be too much for her. She’d rather be with him.
“You’re glowing, m’lady. Everyone will be envying me.” Their eyes met in the mirror and the love in his disarmed her once again.
“Flatterer,” she giggled, resting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him. He knew what she was asking for and his lips closed around hers within a second. She melted into him, all previous worries forgotten.
Yes, as long as she was with him, she could survive all the socialising.