Chapter Text
“So I might have, um, gotten myself into a bit of a pickle,” Marinette admitted, a bit sheepish.
She probably shouldn’t have summoned a superhero to listen to her rambling about her personal problems, but in her defense, she knew for a fact that he didn’t actually have any important superhero business right now (and on the off chance he did, that was on him for not telling Ladybug!).
Besides, he was her friend. So there.
“Oh?” asked Chat Noir as he attempted to casually lean on the railing of her balcony. He misjudged the distance and flailed for a second before correcting his trajectory and landing his forearm on the rail, completely spoiling the casual effect, but Marinette decided to be kind and not draw attention to it.
Mostly because she was about to confess to something significantly more embarrassing.
“I may have… sort of…” Ugh, why did she call him over again? Now she has to say this out loud. Marinette flopped onto her folding chair before burying her hands in her face and mumbling, “toldmycoworkersIwasdatingAdrienAgreste.”
“Sorry, what was that?”
“I, um,” Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, “told the other girls at my internship I was dating Adrien Agreste.”
Chat wheezed, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Chat!” Marinette snapped, her eyes flying open with annoyance, even though she knew in her heart that his response was not only valid but also possibly the only valid response.
“Sorry, but,” he paused to let out another soft puff of amusement, “Why would you tell them that?”
Marinette buried her face back into her hands. She really didn’t want to explain this part, but maybe she could leave out some of the details.
“They saw a picture on my phone of him,” she recounted as she raked her fingers down her cheeks, pulling her skin down to her chin. “And they… assumed I was just some fangirl. And it just made me so mad, you know? He’s my friend!”
“He is?” Chat Noir asked, voice tinged with doubt.
“Ugh, not you too!” Marinette pursed her lips in annoyance. Then, sitting up taller (the better to make her point), she said, “Even if we haven't talked in a while it’s not like… we know each other, okay! It's not like I just ran into him and forced him to take a selfie with me one day! I sat—“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Chat raised his hands defensively, clearly affected by Marinette’s power pose. “I wasn’t accusing you of lying! I was just worried that you didn’t consider him a friend anymore, since he hasn’t kept in touch…”
Marinette narrowed her eyes at him. How dare he judge Adrien for not keeping in touch? Adrien was very busy and had more important things to do than talk to Marinette every day! Besides, it hadn’t even been that long since they’d spoken.
Oh no, had she accidentally implied it was?
“When did I say he hasn’t kept in touch?” she asked to make sure she hadn’t misrepresented Adrien.
“Oh, uh…” Chat Noir looked unduly uncomfortable at her question, which drove her straight back into annoyance again.
Suddenly, it was Very Important that Marinette ensured Chat Noir understood that Adrien had never done anything wrong in his life, ever.
“You can’t just blame it on him!” she insisted. “It’s my fault too, more my fault, because I…” Marinette trailed off, not wanting to admit that the reason was that she still got nervous texting him sometimes, even though they’d been friends for years.
Once they were hanging out together, she could usually (usually) talk to him without any issues now, but she still froze up when trying to initiate contact, careful not to intrude too much on his personal time for fear of being annoying. Adrien probably had lots of people texting him all day, after all.
Even though his father still kept him on a tight leash (a fact often bemoaned by Nino), Marinette was certain Adrien had made tons of new friends since starting lycée—after all, Adrien was worth the effort to befriend, no matter how challenging it was to schedule something with him.
Unlike Marinette.
She’d had to suddenly leave the first three outings she’d been invited on by her new classmates in order to go fight an akuma.
They hadn’t invited her a fourth time.
“You…?” Chat prompted, interrupting Marinette’s thoughts.
Right, she was supposed to be talking to another person. Who was standing in front of her. Looking… way too invested in her answer, actually.
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” she said, aiming for a dismissive tone. Chat Noir did not need to know the details of her insecurities; that wasn’t the point she was trying to make. “He’s always going to be my friend. Even if we don’t talk for weeks, or months, or years, I’ll always consider him a friend.”
Chat Noir gave a soft little gasp of delight.
“Marinette,” he gushed with suspiciously shiny eyes. “That’s beautiful.”
“It’s just the tru—wait, Chat, are you crying?”
“No!” He exclaimed, wiping his mask with the backs of his hands. “I just... uh... I'm really glad you are friends.”
Marinette, in the spirit of Christmas, decided not to call him out on the fact he was definitely crying—or at least well on his way to tears.
“But why did you tell them you were dating him?”
She should’ve called him out on the crying.
Marinette racked her brain, trying to think of an explanation for this decision that did not involve admitting I drew hearts all over the picture and saved it as my phone background in a way that is unambiguously romantic in nature.
She settled on, “I don’t know!”
Chat did not look appeased by this explanation.
“I was just so mad that they didn’t believe me,” she reminded him. “And I'm so tired of feeling like I don’t belong there. No one says it outright but they’re all thinking it.”
“I doubt anyone thinks that about you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
“They do, though,” she said, looking down at the chipped, soft pink paint on her fingernails. “It’s the way they call my handmade clothes ‘charming.’ The way they say ‘oh, you haven’t met them yet? I can introduce you!’ The way they offer to let me borrow their expensive drafting tools because they know I don’t have anything that nice. And I just… wanted to impress them, I guess.”
When she raised her head, Chat was giving her a sympathetic look.
But… that wasn’t right.
She didn’t feel sorry for herself, and she didn’t want Chat to feel sorry for her, either.
“No, not to impress them,” she corrected, feeling a bit bolder. “I wanted them to be wrong. I do deserve to be there! And so when they implied I didn’t know Adrien, I just… snapped.”
“You do deserve to be there!” Chat Noir cheered.
“Anyways, now I have to go to a Christmas party, and they’re all expecting me to bring him as my date, and if I don’t, not only will I prove them right, they’ll all think I'm a liar!” Marinette hung her head, which suddenly felt far too heavy. “Which I am.”
“Well, just take Adrien as your date then,” Chat suggested in a reasonable tone, as asking Adrien on a date was something simple and easy instead of a task that she’d once written a 47-step plan for and still failed to execute.
“I can’t do that!” Obviously. “We haven’t talked in weeks! You think I can just call up Adrien Agreste out of nowhere and tell him everything I just told you?” If it were possible, Marinette would know—she’d lost count of the number of times she’d picked up her phone and opened up his contact, only to chicken out at the last second and text Alya instead. “He’ll think I’m so lame!”
“He wouldn’t judge you for that,” Chat said in a weirdly petulant tone. Was he… offended? Why?
She squinted at him.
He could be so odd sometimes, but Marinette knew better than to question it. She’d check through her copy of The Secret Language of Cats: How to Understand Your Cat for a Better, Happier Relationship later to be sure she hadn’t made some feline faux pas, though.
Besides, she had to admit, he was probably right.
“Okay, fine, he wouldn’t.” Marinette stood up now, suddenly restless. “But he would not be impressed.”
“Oooh, did you want to impress him?” Chat teased, moving from his comfortable perch by the railing to better invade her personal space.
“Chat!” she admonished, trying (and failing) to sound angry.
She softly flicked his little kitty nose, and he laughed.
“You could always take me instead,” he offered, flexing his bicep as he spoke. “A superhero is way more impawressive than a fashion model. Just tell them you dumped Adrien after realizing you couldn’t resist my feline charms.”
Marinette rolled her eyes.
“I’m sure they’d be very impressed. So impressed they’d tell reporters about it, and then Hawkmoth could be impressed too!”
Chat winced. “Okay, I see your point. This is why I leave the planning to Ladybug.”
She granted him a pleased nod.
“I’ll just have to procure Adrien for you, I suppose,” he continued, tapping his lower lip thoughtfully.
Which Marinette was definitely not paying attention to because Marinette did not think about Chat Noir’s lips.
Definitely not.
She shook her head to clear it.
“He’s not a collectible item, Chat, he’s a person.”
“I’ll make sure to relay that you think so,” Chat said with a Chesire grin. “Adrien will be pleased to hear it.”
“Ugh,” said Marinette. “Just please don’t say anything more embarrassing than you have to, okay?”
“So you’ll let him come?” Chat seemed to be almost buzzing with excitement now. “I mean, you’ll let me ask him for you?”
She nodded, before another possibility occurred to her.
“Make sure he knows he can say no, okay?” she pleaded. “Adrien has enough people that ask things from him, and I don’t know if he always knows how to say no… I mean, I’m sure he does, he’s probably very good at saying no and doing it so sweetly that the other person isn’t even upset, but, I… don’t want to be one of those people, okay?”
“You’re his friend,” Chat Noir replied simply. “Why would he say no to a friend?”
Marinette frowned.
“Sometimes I worry the same things about you,” she told him. “You don’t have to do everything your friends ask, okay?”
“Sure,” he agreed easily.
Too easily.
“Even Ladybug,” she added, and then, before he could disagree with her, kept talking. “So if Adrien hesitates, or looks uncomfortable, or anything, don’t let him agree to it, okay? If he doesn’t want to spend his whole night at some silly party with me, he doesn’t have to. I can figure something else out.”
“I can’t think of anything Adrien would want more than an evening at a silly party with you, Marinette.”
And before she could say anything to that, he’d extended his baton and lept off to the next rooftop, leaving as quick as he came.
“I’ll have him text you!” he shouted across the sky, and then disappeared from view.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
Hey Marinette, this is Adrien! I hope this text message finds you well and you and your family are enjoying the holiday season! 🎄 Could I get the date, time, and venue of the party I’ll be escorting you to? 😊
Marinette
Hi Adrien!
I know who it is, I have your number saved!Delete.
I’m doing great now that I’m talking to you.Delete.We are busy but doing well! How are you?
The party starts at 19h on Friday night. Hold on, let me look up the address for you.
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
No problem, take your time! 😊
I’m also busy though probably not as much as you are—not as many shoots scheduled this time of year, since all the holiday promo was shot months ago and most of the team is taking time to spend with their family. Father is still hard at work though, I guess the job of a CEO never ends! 😮
Is the bakery really busy too? I bet a lot of people make special orders for the holidays! 🤔 I wonder if Father would let me order something.
You probably aren’t still accepting orders though, I don’t mean to presume!
Ah, sorry for rambling on so much while you’re trying to look something up for me. I’ll leave you to it!
Marinette
PLEASE DONT APOLOGIZE YOU CAN RAMBLE ALL YOU LIKEDelete.You don’t need to apologize!
I love to hear you talk.Delete.I want to know everything about you.Delete. I’m sorry it took so long for me to find the address!Here it is: 12 rue Deguerry 75011 Paris
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
Oh, La Cartonnerie! I did a shoot there once, it’s an interesting space. I’ve always wanted to go to a real event there! 😊 Thanks Marinette!
Marinette
No, thank you! I really owe you one for agreeing to come.
Something from the bakery! What did you want to order? It’s on me!
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
You don’t have to get me anything, Marinette. I’m actually really excited to go with you!
Marinette
How about my hand in marriage?Delete.You are? Really?
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
Of course! I love spending time with you, I was so happy to hear you wanted to bring me as your date! You can ask Chat Noir if you don’t believe me 😉
Marinette
Hdjksa;dhsajk;hdjsaDelete.I want to get you a pastry anyway! You’re doing me a huge favor.
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
I really don’t see it that way, but if you insist, I can’t say no to some sweets! 😋🍴
Marinette
What would you like?
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
Surprise me 😉 I trust you!
Marinette
DsadgfdasgfadfgadDelete.One box of Marinette’s favorites then!
💖☀️ Adrien ☔️💖
Can’t wait.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
Peering down at her reflection, Marinette pinched at the bow on her dress yet again, hoping against hope that this time it would stay at the perfect 45 degree angle she’d envisioned.
The bow, which did not seem to care that she had a date with the boy of her dreams in less than five minutes, immediately drooped back down.
“I should’ve sewn the corner into my shoulder,” she grumbled into the glass of the display case she’d been using as a makeshift mirror while she waited anxiously for her Papa to return.
She’d been ready for the date early—too nervous to focus on anything else, she’d started getting dressed at 15h.
But then Papa had found her carefully arranging the box of pastries she’d promised Adrien and whisked it out of her hands, insisting against Marinette’s protests that he put some “finishing touches” on the assortment.
Papa might actually try to put her hand in marriage in the box of pastries.
Even worse, he was definitely going to ruin her grand staircase moment, since Marinette was stuck down in the bakery waiting for him.
How was she going to glide down the staircase, the barest hint of a smile gracing her lips, while Adrien’s jaw dropped as he finally realized how beautiful she’d been all along, if she was already downstairs when Adrien showed up?
She wasn’t.
She’d just be standing there in the middle of the bakery with a droopy bow and a slightly nauseated looking expression.
Maybe she could still manage the slight smile and air of mystery.
Marinette experimentally quirked a corner of her lip up and assessed herself again in the glass.
She should’ve gone with the red lip stain Tikki suggested. Maybe it wasn’t too late to go—
Brrring.
A sharp gust of winter air.
“Hi, Marinette!”
Adrien.
“ADRIEN!” she yelled as she spun around, far faster than she should’ve attempted while wearing even the tiniest of kitten heels—one of which immediately snagged in the crack between the tiles.
From the corner of her eye she could see Adrien dive forward to catch her, but he wasn’t quite quick enough. He’d barely passed the first counter when Marinette felt her Papa’s large, warm hand catch between her shoulder blades and push her back up to a stand.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he warned. “You almost made me drop the treats I put together for your new beau.”
“He’s not—”
“That’s for me?” Adrien asked, voice sparkling with energy, like a fizzy soft drink shaken too long. His admiring eyes were trained on the box in her father’s left hand and his mouth was open ever so slightly.
It was the exact face she’d envisioned him making as he stood up from the couch where he’d been waiting with her parents before he crossed the room to meet her at the bottom of the staircase.
I am not going to get jealous of a pastry box, she told herself firmly. I’m better than that.
She was definitely jealous of the pastry box. And the stupid, perfectly angled bow her father had tied around it.
“Of course!” Papa replied, gently pushing Marinette forward with his right hand as he lowered the pastry box to Marinette’s eyeline. After a nudge from Tikki to the wrist resting on her purse, Marinette lifted her arms mechanically to grab the box.
And then Adrien’s eyes were on her.
“Marinette,” he greeted again. She waited with baited breath as he took in her appearance, from her red kitten heels to the emerald A-line of her dress to the soft curls she’d styled to frame her face.
This is it.
Then, his brows furrowed.
“Do you have a coat?” he asked. “La verrière isn’t really insulated, so you might want one!”
This wasn’t it.
“Of course there will probably be more people at the party than at my shoot,” Adrien continued, his smile sheepish now. “So maybe it’ll be warmer…” He trailed off, tugging at his collar as if he was already surrounded by the heat of an overcrowded party.
Which unfortunately led to Marinette noticing his appearance for the first time. Unfortunately, because, unlike Adrien, Marinette was very much affected by his beauty.
How could she ever feel cold with the way her blood rushed to her cheeks and fingertips at the very sight of him?
How could he keep affecting her this strongly, even after the countless times she’d seen him in a perfectly tailored suit?
She’d literally swung him across Paris with her yo-yo while he wore such a suit, and yet here she was, standing a few meters in front of him, weak-kneed and speechless as ever.
It was infuriating, really.
The absolute gall of him.
“Or we could just stick to the inside spaces if you want!” Adrien looked a little panicked now.
Oops, had she been glaring at him a little too hard?
“I’m sure your outfit is well-thought out, you’re very conscientious and detailed-oriented! The snowflakes you embroidered in your tartan are well-constructed!”
Well, at least he liked something about her appearance.
“I have a coat, don’t worry,” she assured him with a smile that she hoped looked both casual and genuine (based on Alya’s feedback, that wasn’t something she’d historically succeeded at with him, but she did her best).
Adrien smiled in return and gave her a short nod.
She kept smiling back.
His smile stretched out weirdly again, and for a moment Marinette worried maybe she was accidentally glaring again, before Papa interrupted.
“Pumpkin, why don’t you hand him the box so you can go grab your coat?”
Right, that’s what Adrien had been expecting her to do.
“I’ll back be!” she yelped as she deposited the box into Adrien’s hands, pulling away before their fingertips could brush and short-circuit her brain again.
Marinette hurried over to the coat rack to grab her mother’s nice pea coat, the one that hung just above the end of her skirt, and pulled her own pair of gloves from the jacket she usually wore. She pulled on one sleeve then swung the rest of the coat around her back as she walked, holding the gloves between her teeth, eager to return before Papa could start asking Adrien whether he’d ever considered running a bakery one day and how many children he might want to have.
Luckily, by the time she’d returned, the Gorilla had apparently followed Adrien in, and Papa was now preoccupied with bagging up the last two palmiers for him.
Adrien, for his part, was carefully retying the bow on his own box as he swallowed something. At Marinette’s entrance, he flashed her a lopsided grin.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
She giggled in response and was rewarded with Adrien’s eyes crinkling into crescents the way they did with only the smiles he saved for his closest friends.
The moment was interrupted by a soft grunt from the Gorilla, who was now protectively clutching a kraft paper bag that looked just as comically small in his oversized hands as they did in her Papa’s.
“Shall we?” said Adrien, shifting his own pastry box into one hand in order to offer Marinette’s his elbow.
“We shall,” she agreed, linking her arm through his.
The feeling of their forearms brushing together as they walked to the car kept her ears warmer than any muffs.