Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“201, 202, 203 …” Marinette dragged her suitcase behind her, as she stumbled down the hallways; sewing machine shoved under her armpit, letter in hand, and eyes firmly set on looking at the room numbers.

She couldn’t believe that she was here. She was an ESMOD student and she was going to be living on her own. The excitement vibrated through her chest as she thought about all that was to come, and all that she had achieved. Her heart fluttered at the thought that this could be the start to her future, that her career lay on the other side of the three years she’d be training here. Lady luck was really on a roll at the moment. Part time superhero … part time fashion student! Life was sweet!

“212, 213, 214 … oh, here we go. 215!”

Finally reaching her designated dorm room she stalled. On the other side of this door was going to be her room mate. Her closest friend for the next three years, because everyone knew that’s what happened with your roommate. You’d meet them, become bff’s, stay up all night watching movies, sharing secrets and giving each other mani pedis, and, hopefully, share clothes and make up.

Marinette hoped her roommate was at ESMOD for the same reasons she was. She’d been accepted onto the ‘Fashion Designer’ undergraduate programme and she’d pinned her hopes on having someone she could buddy up with to attend classes. It wasn’t that she was worried about going to class alone, it was just simpler to know someone there and have someone around in case she had to miss class for an akuma attack. A cover could always come in handy, and it would be one of the reasons she was really going to miss Alya.

Taking a deep breath, she balanced the sewing machine on the suitcase and knocked on the door.

This was it!

She was about to meet her roommate.

Deep breathes Marinette, you’ve got this.

She knocked on the door a couple more times, and waited … then waited some more before waiting again. She knocked a little louder but still nothing, not even the slightest movement from the inside.

“Just go in, Marinette, it’s your room too.” Tikki stuck her head out of Marinette’s bag, encouraging her holder to open the door and step into her new home. Marinette nodded before sticking her hand into her pocket, and pushing the piece of paper deep inside, scrunching and curling it as she forced it in.

“Is the key in my purse?” She continued, fumbling around in her coat pocket as Tikki shuffled around in her bag. Less than a second later the small kwami reappeared with a key in hand, lifting it above her head to pass to Marinette.

“Thanks, Tikki.” She patted her small kwami before unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Here goes nothing.

Stepping into the apartment, the impact was the same as a battle ram to her stomach. This … was … amazing! A little sound of glee left her mouth as she kicked the door closed behind her.

She looked around at the spacious living area, complete with open plan kitchen, and a dining room table with six chairs. Six! She turned around, locked the door and placed the key on the perfectly positioned side table next to the door.

Wheeling her suitcase over to the sofa, she placed her sewing machine down and shrugged off her coat, hanging it homely over the back of the deluxe piece of furniture. This place was gorgeous and what’s more, she got to live here for three years! Three stinking years!

Even if she didn’t get on with her roommate, there was no way she was giving this place up. She’d hit the jackpot.

Pulling out her phone, she flipped it to camera mode and turned the view to face herself.

“I’ve just arrived at my dorm room and look at this,” she screeched, flipping the camera around and beginning to move around the apartment. “This place is amazing! The colour palette is on point. Just look at the colours; duck egg blue, brown and white. It's so clean and fresh.”

She wandered around the main living area, commenting on the sofa, flatscreen TV and dining area before making it into the kitchen.

Opening the cupboards, Marinette made sure to document everything, from where the pots and pans rested, to the fridge and freezer. She dragged a hand over the black granite worktop and let out a content sigh. This was luxury living at its best.

When Marinette had turned up earlier that day, it seemed they’d made a mistake with her dorm room, giving hers to a Maria Dupont instead of Marinette from Dupont, so after a couple of calls around, including to her roommate, it was agreed she could move in here. It was the first time she was quite sure her Ladybug luck had rubbed off on her plain, old civilian self, who cared if it had taken four years to happen.

Continuing with her tour, she flipped the phone back again to face her. “Now I’m going to see if I can find my bedroom.” She walked down the hall and noticed three doors. One on the left, one on the right, and one smack bang in the centre. Noticing the one on the right had the door open, she guessed that one would be hers.

She made a beeline towards it, and couldn’t help but gasp. The room was almost double the size of hers at her parents' bakery.

A huge double bed lay in the middle, not quite sure if it was a King or a Queen, she just knew it was massive and called her name. Forget her roommate, that bed was most certainly going to become her best friend over the next few years.

Walking in further she looked around the room at the mint green and white decor, clean linens, and a full length mirror on one of the wardrobe doors. Venturing over to the floor to ceiling clothes hotel, she yanked open the pretty white doors and marvelled. She could tell instantly that the amount of storage was going to be more than ample for her - maybe she’d need to go out and buy more clothes to fill it, the reason was justifiable enough.

The excitement stirring in her stomach made her giggle and even though she hadn’t completely finished her tour, she decided to go back to her suitcase, bring it into the bedroom and start unpacking.

Finding her wireless earphones, she placed them in and turned on her ‘sing-a-long’ playlist and as Taylor Swift began to sing about ‘shaking things off’ Marinette began to unpack, placing clothing, photographs and other items around her room, in a domesticated type of dance. She was feeling more and more at home by the second … if home was a luxurious apartment with the most amazing wardrobes she’d ever seen, that was.

Half an hour later she was done. Her case was empty and stored in her wardrobe, the photo of herself and Alya was next to that with her parents on her bedside table, and Tikki’s bed was positioned; hidden away in a warm place. All that was left to do was to hide the Miracle Box. She looked around the room for somewhere secure; somewhere her homemade sewing box ‘safe’ wouldn’t be overly noticeable. After considering many options, she decided to place it under her bed. For now it’d have to do.

Brushing her hands off, she looked around, pleased with her hard work, only one last thing to be homed and that was her toiletries.

A door sat to the side of her room which she decided must be where the bathroom lay. Grabbing her bag of goodies, she walked over and opened the door, headphones still in and a little dance in her step.

She barely noticed the steam in the room, as she spun, slid and sang along with whatever was playing, placing her toiletry bag on the vanity and looking up into the mirror. It was covered in condensation, which made no sense, it wasn’t like the shower was on.

Stretching up, she cupped the sleeve of her ESMOD jumper over the heel of her hand and used it to wipe the water drops from the cold glass. She stopped still as she noticed the shower and the movement in it. The surprise sent her butt bumping into the vanity and her hands reaching to pull out her earbuds.

Looking towards the shower, she came face to body with an adonis. Tight skin covered ripples of muscles, as she watched him wash his hair. His head was thrown back, and his eyes closed, the water dripping in places she most certainly shouldn’t be looking at. It was like watching a real life shampoo commercial, but not one for a cheap brand … oh no! This was a guy who was top notch, the best brand type of guy. No cheap imitations here. He could sell a bald man shampoo just from the strength of his jawline and the thickness of his neck, dammit she was tempted to buy it herself to look like him. He was mesmerising.

All of a sudden reality kicked in and she realised there was a naked guy in her shower.

She let out a startling scream, causing the Greek God to scream too and knock his bottles from the shelving unit and onto the tiled floor. She screamed again as the water was shut off and the shower door opened.

Slapping her hands over her eyes with an audible ‘thunk’, she looked down at the floor, turned on her heel and made to stride out the bathroom. She prayed he hadn’t noticed her freely ogling at him because this situation was embarrassing enough.

She made a mental note to speak to her roommate about having her boyfriend over, there would need to be a discussion about making sure the adjoining doors of the bathroom were locked and maybe adding a sock or something to the main door. If Marinette had to see that body again, she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

To add to her mortification, she walked head first into the door frame stumbling backwards and into the bare arms of ‘Hercules’. With an ‘eekk’ she sprung out of his arms and continued out the bathroom, through her room and into the hallway ignoring the heart warming feeling of having his hands holding her.

She kept her head down and marched towards the door like a woman on a mission. She’d seen someone naked! Naked!

Reaching the door a pair of huge trainers sat on the side. She looked around to find an additional pair; but there were no smaller female ones to accompany them. Her own had been discarded next to them and she had no idea how she had missed them. The guy was pretty much wearing boats for shoes.

Oh God!

What if he was her roommate? She had seen him naked, she had seen his bits. He was going to think she was a pervert.

Her face was glowing brighter every time she pictured … actually, no! She didn’t want to go there again. She needed to stop thinking about the glorious body she’d just seen … Damn it! It was going to be harder than she thought, especially as the musky male scent followed her, complete with a hint of mint.

Marinette made her way to the door, grabbing a hold of the handle and pulling she desperately needed to get out of there. The door rattled but didn’t budge. She placed a second hand on the handle and rattled it again. Her aggravation was increasing as she rattled the door harder and harder. If she shook any harder she was quite sure she was going to rip it off its hinges.

“Oh, um, I think … Can I just?” A toned forearm reached out and placed a hand on top of hers. She flinched back like lightning had struck her, placing her hands by her sides as she watched ‘whatever his name is’ place a key in the lock and turn it.

Of course, the door was locked. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She was the one that locked it for crying out loud.

As if she hadn’t made enough mistakes so far that day, she stupidly turned her head and caught a glimpse of his bicep, and oh wow! This guy was hotter than Hades! Her face took on a new film of sweat, as she watched his big, big hands turn the knob on the door, clicking it open and leading her to freedom.

The guy must be huge. If she pieced together the shoe size and his hand span, and … yeah, she wasn’t going there! Dammit again!

“I’ll be back soon, hot stuff. I mean - I’m going to get some hot body - food! Some hot food and I’ll be back. Pizza? Yeah, pizza. Everyone likes pizza, like everyone likes you … stew … not you. Nobody likes you, well, some people must but not me. Nope, I don’t love - like you. I don’t like you. Not that I know you yet, but … pizza.” She groaned to herself and pretty much ran out the door biting onto her fist in sheer frustration, “I’ll be back soon with pizza. Don’t get dressed … I mean … do get dressed! Yeah clothes! Put … on … clothes.”

Tripping over her own feet she walked down the hallway, a faint laugh following her before an echoing click of a door. She made it out into the courtyard before starting to mentally kick herself for the incompetant display she’d just delivered.

“Nice going Marinette!” She smacked herself in the forehead, wincing as her hand collided with the bruise and lump already forming.

This was going to be a long three years.

Chapter Text

Marinette had managed to successfully avoid her roommate for the first three weeks, which she thought had to be a world record or something. The only form of communication came in the form of ‘Post It’ notes left on the fridge. Notes which informed her of their lack of milk (code: your turn to buy), if he was having a study session (code: he was probably having a ‘make out session’ in his room), or if he was staying out late (coder: he was probably ‘making’ out in someone else's room). It seemed Mr Hotter-than-Hades wanted to keep her informed about what he was doing as much as possible. Not that she really cared all that much.

Once the shock had worn off that she was shacking up with a male, she made some adjustments; firstly to what she wore for bed (no short shorts or lingerie), where she kept certain female hygiene items and that she kept her drunken evenings/hangovers to a bare minimum. He wasn’t the type of guy who you wanted seeing you with a raging hangover and a bird's nest on top of your head. If he was that hot, his friends must be the same too and looking like the ‘Bride of Frankenstien’ just wasn’t an option.

She knew he was holding an olive branch out to her, and that he was reaching out to her but even 21 days, 15 hours, 3 minutes and 25 seconds later she still felt her cheeks flush as she remembered what she had seen the first day in the bathroom. The only good thing was she couldn’t put a face to the incredibly hot body. She’d even gone as far as visualising his face as ‘Sloth’ from the Goonies, anything to try and tone down the stomach fluttering thoughts every time she thought of his toned and textured stomach. Yikes!

Through the messages left on the fridge, plus the books laying around on their coffee table, Marinette had figured out that her roommate was taking lectures in the fashion business section of ESMOD and studying both the “Head of Marketing & Communications Strategy in Fashion Industry" Undergraduate Degree and "Manager of International Development in Fashion and Luxury Industries" Post Graduate Degree. She’d never known anyone take an undergraduate and postgraduate simultaneously, so she’d come to the conclusion he was either really smart, or came from a family which supported the university through funding. It was known for those of beneficiaries to have their children placed in whichever course they wished.

As the avoidance time hit 21 days, 15 hours, 33 minutes and 48 seconds, Marinette woke up after a fantastic twelve hour sleep, glad that it was finally Wednesday and she had the morning off. She’d usually use this time to work on her own commissions, which were still coming in thick and heavy thanks to her past ventures; including Jagged Stone, but after checking out the calendar on her phone and realising she had no deadlines, she decided to have a nice lazy morning. No roommate, just her and this designer's dream of a home.

She opened the Miracle box for the Kwami’s to stretch their legs and made her way into the kitchen.

She spotted it straight away.

A bright green ‘Post-It’ note stuck in the middle of the fridge and his wonderfully, perfect handwriting scrawled on it with a tiny cat head in the corner. She still didn’t understand what his fascination was with cats.

“A man of many words,” Marinette laughed, pulling the ‘Post-It’ from the fridge and stuffing it in her handbag. She made a mental note to stop by the store later and pick up a bottle on her way home. There was a supermarket just off site and on her way home. Perfect for such occasions.

Each note was always direct and straight to the point whether it’s ‘trash day’ meaning don’t forget to empty the bin in your room, or ‘pizza’ meaning there were left over slices in the fridge which were up for grabs, he was practical and obviously didn’t waste time.

When she’d brought pizza back to the dorm that first night with the intention of spending time with her roommate, she was left bitterly disappointed. He had left the room and there was an akuma alert. By the time she’d arrived back from kicking butt, the pizza was cold and sloppy, the only place for it being the bin. She still mourned that perfect pepperoni pizza.

The alarm signalled on her phone reminding her to get dressed ready for her afternoon lectures. With a sigh, she pushed from the sofa she’d been seated on and headed back to her room. This was going to be a long three years.

Five hours later, and a block from her dorm she’d realised she’d forgotten to grab the milk. Worst of all, it was now raining and she’d have to turn back towards the campus, before locating their nearest store.

Marinette pulled the back of her jacket over her head and ran towards her regular supermarket, trying not to bump into anyone or end up skidding and falling on her ass. The floor suddenly became slick and she was worried it was too much for her slippery soled pumps. Finally reaching her location, she pushed open the door and wandered through the aisles looking for the desired product. Removing the makeshift hood from her head, she shook herself off, and made her way into the fridge section, watching as goosebump upon goosebump rose on her arms.

Stopping in front of the milk selection she scanned the shelves looking for the correct one. She was sure her roommate always chose red topped milk however she always preferred the green. She sighed out a deep breath as she studied the milk, she needed to make a decision and quickly, it was cold in here.

Stretching forward she decided to be the perfect roommate and get the red topped milk, only for her hand to collide with something warm and soft reaching for a green. The heat from the tanned skin made her want to grab it and wrap herself in it. She was freezing.

“Oh, sorry, you go ahead.” She heard the melodic sounds of a male voice, and glanced quickly over her shoulder to look where it came from.

The male standing behind her was tall, and, from what she could tell, had the world’s most perfect jawline. He had a cap hiding his hair, and mirrored sunglasses.

Why was he wearing sunglasses inside?

“Thank you,” she said back, her cheeks flushing pink as she stretched forward and grabbed the milk bottle. Thanking him once more she rushed towards the check out, desperate to get the milk and go. When a guy looked like that Marinette always made a fool out of herself, and with her roommate already thinking she was a pervert, she didn’t want to tempt fate with another Greek reincarnation.

The more time she spent around her campus she couldn’t help but marvel at the many, many attractive people that studied here. Her thoughts quickly flickered to her leather clad partner. Chat Noir would blend seamlessly into this place, with his bone structure, height and build, he was a walking billboard for ESMOD. She’d have to quiz him on what he was doing with his time now that he was no longer studying at lycée. One of the few ‘secrets’ they had revealed was their ages, which, unshockingly, were the same.

Placing the milk on the conveyor belt, she grabbed a couple of bags of toffee popcorn, hoping to watch a movie later that evening before thinking the popcorn looked lonely and piled on a bag of chocolate and a bottle of ‘Fanta Twist’. She may as well have a feast, a lonely boring feast for one.

Marinette paid for the supplies and made her way out of the supermarket only to stop and grimace at the weather in front of her. She was going to look like a drowned rat by the time she got home if the weather didn’t let up a little. She placed a hand out into the open before pulling it back and holding tightly onto the handles of her bag. Her skeleton almost left her skin as lightning struck and thunder roared in the distance. She needed to think about her options; either book an ‘Uber’, brave the ran and make a run for it, or stand here for the next week praying it would finally stop.

“Are you okay?” The voice of the male from earlier floated to her ears as he came to stand alongside her.

“I’m just trying to think of the best time to make a break for it. It doesn’t seem to be letting up though.”

The clicking sound next to her was followed by a ‘whoosh’ and black material blocked her eyeline. “Here,” he said, handing the umbrella over to her, the smile plastered on his face turning her into a puddle of goo.

“Oh no! I can’t take that, you’re going to need it.”

He let out a small laugh, stepping forward into the rain and holding it out to her. “Please, I insist. I only live in the housing a couple of blocks down, and I’m wearing a hat … I’ll be fine.”

“You’re definitely fine,” she clamped her lips together, holding back the scream she wanted to unleash. You’re definitely fine? what the hell was she thinking? Oh, yes, that’s right … she wasn’t. “Where are you walking to?” Oh, great! Now he was going to think she was a stalker.

“Near the Sacré-Cœur.”

“I’m going that way too, perhaps we could walk together?”

Marinette watched as Mr Bright Smile's lips curled up even more. God he was hot!

“Sure,” he offered out his elbow, Marinette slotting herself through it as she gripped tightly onto her bag with the other.

“Were you happy with your milk choice in the end? I couldn’t help but notice you were having an intense moment choosing.”

She burst out laughing, “it was a hard decision, but I think my roommate will be happy with the choice.”

“That’s good to hear, the last thing you’d want is for your relationship to turn sour.”

Another roar of thunder echoed in the distance and Marinette moved herself instinctively closer to Mr Bright Smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, his voice a mere whisper over the sound of rain tapping against the fabric of the umbrella. The melodic pounding of rain paired with the most mouthwatering smell of the guy beside her was doing funny things to her stomach, and for the first time in a long time, Hawkmoth wasn’t the only one with butterflies.

“Yeah, sorry. The thunder just caught me off guard a little.”

They continued to walk in silence, every now and then finding the other staring. She wished she could see his eyes. If it matched the rest of him, she swore she would throw herself down and beg him to run away with her. She would be a good wife. She would supply him with food, and cuddles, and a boat load of random presents for at least the next 40 years of his life. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Seems we’re going to the same building,” he said with a hint of amusement, indicating the four story building in front of them.

“Oh - um - do you - are you living here?” They stopped outside the front doors, Marinette stepping in out of the rain before turning back to her weather saviour.

“I do indeed. Which floor are you on?” He asked, releasing the catch on his umbrella and shaking it off before collapsing it fully.

“The second.”

He stood and stared at her before removing his sunglasses to reveal the greenest ‘human’ eyes she’d ever seen. She found herself comparing them to the vibrant ones of her partner only to fail in comparison. They were gorgeous and she could stare at them all day. Dammit, she could stare at him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in apartment 215, would you?”

Her heart began to race. Had he seen her before? She was quite sure she’d know if she’d seen him, trailing her eyes over his body … she informed herself that there was no way she would forget this body. Oh kwami’s, what if he’d seen her after her morning run? All sweaty and red, hair stuck to her face and disgusting? Or if he’d seen her in her baggy men’s sweatpants, hair in a messy bun and fluffy pink bunny slippers? Oh dear lord!

“Huh - yeah? How did you know?”

He laughed to himself and she felt her ovaries scream. Who was this guy and how could she get him to come and save her from the rain again?

They made their way up to the second floor and Marinette was surprised when pretty green eyes stopped outside her door. Was he expecting an invite in? He’d saved her but she wasn’t sure if she should just bring a random guy home? How would her roommate feel about that?

“Oh, um, this is me.” She pointed to the door before looking at him again. He smiled back at her without saying a word. God, his smile was precious.

“Would you like to - uh - would you like to come on to me? I mean, come in with me.”

He let out a small laugh before removing a key from his pocket. One that looked exactly like hers.

“I was most certainly planning on it.” He said, holding it in front of her face.

She stood stock still as he entered his key into her lock and popped the door open, sauntering in like he owned the place, which by any indication of what just happened, he did.

She followed inside, watching as he placed the milk away; he’d brought (hers), then took the one out of her bag (his) and placed them side by side in the fridge.

Not knowing what to say she just stood and watched, only to be floored again when he removed his hat and placed it on the kitchen counter. A mop of blonde, glowing hair escaped and made its way into its home position and that’s when it clicked.

“Y-y-you, him, Mr Hotter than Hades,”

His voice jumped and eyes widened as he spoke to her. “Hotter than? You think I’m … What?”

“Y-y-you’re Adrien? Oh my -“

He let out a nervous laugh, rubbing his neck as he moved his way towards her and holding out a hand.

“Hi, I’m Adrien Agreste, your roommate. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

The unvalidated noise that left her mouth sounded uneducated. Placing her hand in his, she jumped after a thunder strike sounded once again outside.

Adrien Agreste! Adrien freaking Agreste.

Her brain was malfunctioning and all she could do was stare. This had to be some joke right, there was a camera hidden somewhere and she was being punked, because there was no way Adrien Agreste would allow a randomer like herself to buddy up with him in a dorm room. He didn’t even know who she was! She could have been a psycho fan girl, which she hadn’t been for at least two years now!

“You okay?” He asked, and oh kwami’s how was she going to cope with a sweet, beautiful roommate who cared about her metal breakdowns, because that's what she was quite certain she was having at this very moment. Even that or her body had shutdown.

Speak girl! You’re making a fool out of yourself!

“M-m-Marinette.” She finally got out, his smile taking over his face once more.

“Marinette. That’s a beautiful name.” He shrugged his jacket off and hung it on the coat rack before toeing off his shoes. “Now that we’ve finally met, how about I grab a shower and then we can order that pizza we spoke about? Maybe watch a movie or something?”

“Naked? I mean - nice idea. Yes, that would be good. I’ll stay here and you can go and shower, alone, whilst I wait, alone and then pizza. Good old scrumptious pizza.”

He gave her an unsure smile before heading down the corridor and into his room. The sound of his door shutting was sweet music to her ears and the tension she didn’t realise she had in her shoulders quickly evaporated. She took off her own jacket and hung it next to Adrien’s before kicking her own tiny pumps next to his enormous trainers.

“He seems nice.” Tikki flew out and guided Marinette to sit down on the sofa.

“Yup.” She agreed, placing her hand into her pocket and pulling out her phone. “And not at all what I expected.”

She searched for Alya’s contact before forming her message.

Marinette
ALYA! OH MY GOD! MY ROOMMATE IS A LITERAL SUPERMODEL!!!

Closing her app, she scurried out of the lounge and into her bedroom … she had a hot date/not date with the supermodel Adrien Agreste and there was no way she was going to let him see her as anything but desirable.

Chapter Text

Marinette
ALYA! OH MY GOD! MY ROOMMATE IS SO WEIRD!

The first couple of months living with Adrien had been heavenly. He did more than his fair share of housework; he cooked, he helped fold her sheets and he regularly treated her to something from a new ‘Agreste’ line which he’d picked up at a photoshoot.

They’d talk about everything and anything, watch movies and shows together, and introduced their favourites into the night time itineraries. They’d even battled to the death regularly in tense tournaments of Ultimate Mecha Strike. She had to be fair to him. He was good, just not as good as her.

Adrien had even gone as far as introducing her to his friends. Some were more welcoming than others; she’d take Kagami over Chloé any day, and in response he’d met hers. A strange relationship had built between Nino and Adrien, meaning the four often hung out together. Which was fine, really, she liked Adrien.

But over time things started to … change.

Numerous times, when Adrien had thought she wasn’t in, Marinette had heard him talking to himself, but what made it worse was he’d reply! One morning when she’d overslept for a lecture, she’d caught Adrien in the tail end of a conversation about the latest akuma, only for him to change his voice to a nasally, squeaky one (quite annoying really) and reply. He actually replied to the question he’d asked himself. What was with that?

He hadn’t seemed that weird when they first started to interact, and in all her fantasies about ‘hotter than Hades’ Adrien Agreste, none of them included him attempting to be a ventriloquist. Now, as she fell asleep each night dreaming about his incredible hot body, all she could picture was the hot body sitting on a chair with a dummy on his knee. For the love of God, her lifelong fantasy of Adrien Agreste had been ruined.

“What do you mean it smells?”

She was currently sitting on their kitchen bar after taking the day off university classes, nursing a cup of hot tea and cradling a hot wheat pack to her stomach. Once again mother nature was punishing her for not being pregnant by attempting to rip her insides out. Oh the joys of womanhood.

Unfortunately though, this was another moment Adrien had no idea Marinette was still in the apartment, instead practising his party favour in the confines of his room. She sat and waited for the nasally response to reply.

“That spray you’ve just showered yourself in has taken away the hard work I’d done rubbing camembert into all your clothes pockets. How do you expect me to spend the day in there when it smells like a hormonal teenager who wants to woo a girl.”

She sat and considered what kind of dummy Adrien was using. Her first instinct was a mouse, purely because the damned thing was constantly referring to life in cheese metaphors. Camambert this, brie that… seriously how could something be so obsessed with cheese?

“I’m not trying to woo anyone?” Adrien said back, he sounded done; like his dummy had pushed him off the edge and he wanted no more to do with it. She wondered what the routine was that he was practising? The end of a friendship maybe?

“Not even pigtails?” The squeak responded. Pigtails? Who was ‘pigtails’?

Absent-mindedly Marinette ran her hands along her hair, pulling the pigtails either side of her chin, one heading straight to her mouth. She stopped abruptly. Oh no! Did he mean her?

“Marinette? No! She’s just a friend.” A relieved breath left her mouth. Thank god for that. How could she let the guy down without sounding like a complete bitch?

’Sorry Adrien, but I don’t like you that way. Your body and face might be smoking hot, but you talk to yourself far too often about cheese and I don’t think I can get in the way of the relationship you have with your dummy.’

The pain in her stomach twinged, and she decided she needed to go lay down. All this excitement was doing her no good. Silently, she climbed off her seat and began to walk down the hallway. Freezing when she heard the next words come out of Adrien’s room.

“No, not her! Ladybug.” Maybe she wasn’t as safe as she’d originally thought. She scurried down the hallway and sprung onto her bed, grabbing her phone and urgently texting Alya. If anyone knew what to do, her friend would.

Marinette
ALYA! OH MY GOD! MY ROOMMATE IS SO WEIRD!

She placed the phone near her head waiting for Alya to either text back or call. Looking at the time on her watch, there was a chance Alya would opt to speak rather than text. She had a couple of hours spare between her lectures today so would want to get all the gossip quick, especially about Adrien. Right on cue ’Sweet but Psycho’ played out of her phone.

“Alya, thank God!”

’Shouldn’t you be in class?’

“The red witch has struck.”

’I will send you a prayer and a packet of chocolate biscuits.’

“Your loyalty is unbeatable.”

’I know. Now, girl, what the hell was your message about? What’s wrong with Adrien? I thought things were going well between you, you’re like an old married couple.’

“He talks to himself, Alya.”

Her friend's laughter sounded down the phone line.

’Don’t we all.’

“No, Alya, not like that. Not like a normal person. He answers himself.”

’Again, not exactly red flagging here Marinette.’

“He answers himself in a different voice.”

The cackling sound of Alya rang through the phone line.

“Don’t laugh at me in my hour of need.”

’It’s barely an hour of need, Marinette. Don’t you think you’re being a little… oh, I don’t know… dramatic.’

“No.” She replied stubbornly, causing Alya to laugh again.

’Girl seriously, there’s nothing wrong with Adrien. He’s a really sweet guy and he seems to care greatly about you.’

“That’s not all Alya. He has a crush on Ladybug!”

’Who doesn’t? You know I’d be with you if you ever wanted to try something new.’

“What would Nino say?”

’He’d gladly come and join too. But to be honest I’d prefer just me and you, who wouldn’t want one night of passion with the lovely Ladybug.’

Marinette felt the heat move from the wheat bag on her belly to her face. Okay, maybe ringing Alya wasn’t her greatest idea.

’Ladybug and supermodel extraordinaire, Adrien Agreste. There’s a ship I can get with. Ladrien.’

Marinette rolled her eyes glad that her friend couldn’t see her. “What happened to LadyNoir?”

’Adrien can join you both. Two hot blonds surrounding a red polka dotted superhero. Now there’s a fanfiction to write.’

“Don’t you dare!”

’I’m sorry Marinette, did you say something? My phone - funny - can’t - hear - bye.’

The phone cut off and Marinette screamed. Alya was meant to be on her side, not setting her up with two hot blondes; one who punned too much and the other who spoke to himself.

What had her life become?

Feeling a little more human after getting a short (five hour) nap, Marinette decided to venture out into the kitchen. As she made her way down the corridor she heard singing, or at least she thought it was singing - if not someone was in tremendous pain in their kitchen.

“Good evening,” a voice made her look up. Adrien was currently at the cooker, pans boiling and bubbling on every hob as the extractor fan was on full power taking as much of the steam as possible.

Marinette looked down at her watch and winced. Well, that left hardly any of the day to do anything.

“Hey.” She responded, clambering onto a stool opposite where he was cooking. “What are you doing here? It’s unusual for you to cook on a Thursday.”

“I - um -” he reached up to rub the back of his neck, his biceps pushing against the fabric of his tee and unfortunately making her swoon. How dare he still be so attractive, even though she knows he talks to himself. “It’s the fifth of the month so I thought you’d want the teriyaki stir fry you usually have. I thought you might be asleep too late to cook for yourself so I went ahead and started it for you.”

“The - the fifth of the month.” Okay, she didn’t know whether to be completely impressed and swoon a little or call the police as the freak who she lives with is obviously a stalker.

“Yeah, you - um - everytime around this day of the month you … you know.”

“Yeah.”

Well, she thought, this is awkward. They stood staring at each other; neither exactly smiling, but not exactly grimacing, at each other.

She pursed her lips before hopping onto the kitchen bar stall, only to overestimate the force needed and begin to plummet over the other side of the chair. Her arms flapped around like a baby bird on its first flight, and her landing was about to be as good as one too; her butt all set for a crash landing on their expensive tiles.

She was most certainly making an ass out of herself.

Until …

A certain roommate with incredible reactions for a human caught her mid fall.

“I’ve got you.”

Adrien scooped her into his arms, allowing her to wrap her own around his neck. Eyes piercing into his, and her heart beginning to make its way back to place after it plummeted towards the ground, only the rhythm it was beating wasn’t that of her usual. Instead, it had decided to go into torpedo mode, the one steady beat intending to play William Tell on her rib cage as she was held firmly against his chest.

She looked into his mesmerising eyes and couldn’t help but forget about Adrien Agreste’s little quirks, instead being taken away by a forest of greens she wanted to dance around and frolic in. Oh the joys.

“Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse, his heart pounding against where he held her to his body.

“Hunky dory.” She replied, wanting to kick herself for such a stupid response. He laughed, the noise ringing in her ears as he placed her back onto the chair.

“Thank you.” She finally responded.

“You’re welcome.”

They chatted the rest of the evening, catching up on their weekly events and how their courses were going. Everything seemed so normal and her heart was betraying her once again, falling over into the dark side and into Adrien. That was until she was preparing for bed.

As she went to knock on the bathroom door (their agreed bathroom announcement) only to stop when she heard the next comment in Adrien’s conversation to himself.

“What do you prefer, your boxers or your leather catsuit?”

Moving away from the door slowly, she headed into her bedroom and closed the door. What had she gotten herself in to?

Chapter Text

“You don’t get it, Chaton,” Ladybug said, “it’s like he has a split personality. I mean he’s hotter than Hades, he’s sweet and kind and charming, and believe it or not he’s clean…like crazily clean. I could eat off the toilet seat if I wanted to and it’d be more hygienic than the nearest McDonalds.”

“Which side?”

“What?”

“Which side of the seat? I mean, most people will have clean lids but what about the inside?”

“The whole of it Chaton. He’s so amazing and perfect, yet he’s also really weird. He talks to himself all the time, like we’ll be watching something and he’ll just get up and leave the room. Then I might make him a cup of tea or something, walk to his room and he’s there talking to himself.”

Chat Noir started to laugh before looking back at his partner. “And what is it he talks about Bugaboo?”

“Most of the time, his nasally friend is trying to get him to ask me out. He nicknames me pigtails! Pigtails! Like what am I? Two?”

He snickered into his Choux Bun, biting down a little too forcefully and shooting cream out onto the rooftop. She rolled her eyes, she knew he wouldn’t believe her. She barely believed herself. Adrien was the most perfect roommate and she really did love living with him, ignoring these crazy personality traits when they appeared. But the talking to himself had progressively gotten worse, as had the deliveries of boxes of Camembert cheese.

“And cheese! Oh my goodness, the cheese! He orders boxes and boxes of the stuff. He must have some sort of diary deficiency or something because he can eat these massive boxes in days!”

Chat snickered, “he must smell pleasant.”

“That’s the thing, Chat! He doesn’t even smell! Actually there is a slight hint of something but it’s nowhere near what you’d expect for the amount he’s consuming.” Reaching forward, she lifted the lid off the box of leftovers she’d snagged from her parents' bakery.

“That’s not all though Kitty,” she took a macaron and feasted on it with a large unladylike bite, speaking with her mouthful continuing her barbaric behaviour. “It’s not just that though, it’s the unusual hours he goes out and about too.”

“Talking to the hero, who schedules herself a 2:30am patrol time because she ‘can’t sleep’. Maybe he’s just a night owl like you.”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Adrien Agreste a night owl? Please! The guy wakes up at 5am to run laps of the closest park. He was an enigma, a complete enigma.

“I’m not a night owl,” she states. “I’m stressed. It’s not just the hours though it’s the fact he never uses the front door!”

She noticed Chat’s eyebrows pulled together; he was either thinking over something or he had trapped wind? For her own sake she hoped it was the first, past experiences warning her to put distance between them just in case it was the second.

“How do you know that?” he said, his eyebrows permanently fixed in a screwed up position.

She let out a cackle, one that almost made her sound insane; though what she was about to say would most certainly cross that line.

“I sat, one night, in the dark on the sofa and waited. He seems to only do it on Wednesday and Friday nights. I thought maybe he had a secret girlfriend who he was going out to see or even letting into the apartment, but he didn’t even use the front door.”

“A-A-A Wednesday and Friday?” he asked, all of a sudden getting an uncharacteristic stutter, very much like the one she had around him when they first met. She nodded enthusiastically. “Have you ever followed him?”

“Non! And he always seems to follow the same pattern. He says he's tired and is going to bed, so I usually say I’m retiring too. He takes a rather long shower before conversing with himself about not getting paid enough cheese to do this and the next thing I know he’s out of the apartment. It’s just so strange, don’t you think?” She turned her head to look at her partner only to find him looking a lot paler than normal.

“Then when I woke up the next morning about two wheels of his many camembert had disappeared from the cupboard.” She narrowed her eyes as she noticed Chat looking rather worse for wear.

“Oh no, Kitty, are you not feeling good? Was it the macarons? I swear they were fresh this morning! I hadn’t opened the box or anything until I got here!” She scooted onto her knees, looking towards her partner and placing a gloved hand to his head, not that she could feel much through the suit anyway.

“I’m - I - Phew, is it hot in here?”

Ladybug looked around the rooftop, taking note of the soft breeze floating through the trees making them sway uncontrollably from side to side. Nope it definitely wasn’t hot.

“We’re outside.” She studied him once more before standing up and offering her hand out to him. “Seriously, Chaton, maybe you should go home?”

A squeak left his mouth as he slammed a hand over it to restrict any other sounds from escaping. She looked at him curiously, the sudden charge into this nervous man not something she was used to when it came to her kitty.

“Home?” he squeaked, followed by a nervous giggle. “Nope, no home for me. No, nope!” Ignoring the hand still gravitating between them he stumbled up onto his feet, using his baton to stabilise himself on the rooftop.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His face had gone past pale to deathly white. His green eyes took on their own radioactive glow as he glared back at her with a nuclear expression. She watched him waiver from side to side mirroring the movement of the trees.

His face passed through many, many emotions until it finally settled on one of pure fear and intense panic. He scrambled up onto his feet taking the baton from behind his back and flick it open to find the news, his thumbs workingina speed where they were just a blur to her.

“Woah, Kitty, slow down.” Ladybug laughed. “Where’s the fire?”

He eyes shot to look at hers, his mouth quivering as he attempted to speak. The sound of sirens in the background finally brought him out of his reprieve. “Did you happen –” he rubbed the back of his neck, a move similar to one she’d become accustomed to Adrien doing. Adrien?

Another siren blared in the background and Chat Noir closed his eyes, physically jumping on the spot.

“Marinette,” he suddenly shouted, her whole body going into shock at hearing her name leave her partner's lips. “Marinette,” he spoke softer the second time, walking towards her. “You, um, you wouldn’t have happened to turn the oven off would you?”

Ladybug’s head shot to the buildings in the distance, more siren’s wailing as she unhooked her yo-yo and sent it in the direction of their (their) apartment.

Dropping into an alleyway, she called off her transformation unaware of Adrien doing the same right behind her, the two heroes running from their hidden space to the crowded streets of Paris; their neighbours standing on the sidewalk.

She stopped abruptly, Adrien colliding behind her as the firefighter restricted her access into the building.

“Sorry, it’s not safe to head in there at the moment.” The big, burly man said, crossing his arms in front of himself and moving eyes from Marinette to Adrien then back again.

“We think it might be our apartment.” Adrien’s voice behind her almost sent her flying into the air, her body tensing when he placed his hands onto her hips.

She’d gotten him wrong, so, so wrong. He wasn’t talking to himself, or sneaking out to strange midnight clubs. He did stink of cheese because it wasn’t him eating it, it was… oh goodness… he was…

“We’ll let you know as soon as it’s safe to go back in. But for now, unfortunately, you’re stuck out here. A few people have gone over to the cafe across the street, they’re offering a special discount on coffee and cakes whilst you wait.”

He turned on his heel and headed back towards the building and some of their neighbours who were rather brassed off by the situation, leaving an embarrassed Marinette and Adrien standing one behind the other on the sidewalk.

Marinette turned slowly to look at Adrien, her face cringing as she remembered everything she’d told her partner about her roommate. This was mortifying.

“Um,” she muttered, her hands coming in front of her and her fingers winding together in a nervous unease. “Hi.” She gave him a little wave only to be met by a pure Chat Noir smile.

He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Well,” he said, “this is definitely something for my diary.”

She snorted. “You keep a diary?”

“Of course I do, how else would I note down about my sweet obsessed roommate who has a strange fascination with ancient Chinese literature.”

The cringe smile was back, one that only intensified when she thought of everything he’d told her about his very attractive, yet standoffish roommate.

“Maybe you’ll let me help you out a little more now.” He smirked, folding his well toned arms across his chest. The arms and chest she’d seen naked in the shower that first day they’d met as civilians. She couldn’t help but pray that the drool wasn’t leaving the corner of her lips.

She chuckled, her head shaking side to side. “I bet Tikki and Plagg have had a field day.”

Adrien joined her, a small laugh filling what was left of the silence. “Especially once Plagg found out about my not so secret crush on my roommate.”

She felt her cheeks heat again, a small smile gracing her lips as she recalled the many conversations she’d heard him have with himself about his ‘crush on pigtails’.

“How about I take you for a coffee? It’s going to be a while until we can go back in and assess the damage. My treat.”

He looked so hopeful, there was no way she could say no. “Sure.”

They began to walk over the road towards the coffee shop, Marinette pulling her strength together and reaching out to hold his hand. They had a lot to talk about, but she was sure once everything was said and done, this would be the start of a beautiful friendship… and maybe, one day, something more.