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Marinette loved being with Adrien. He was the most loving and considerate boyfriend, her best friend and the absolutely perfect partner for her.
But there was one thing that sometimes got on her nerves - how ridiculously tall he was and how she seemed tiny compared to him.
A part of her absolutely revelled in the way she could get lost in his arms, completely forgetting about anything else but the two of them. She loved hugging him for that very reason.
But other times her neck just hurt from looking up at him, not to mention kissing him. It also drove her mad when he could easily reach something while she had to jump around like a baby kitten.
So she started coming up with ways to close the gap between them.
Trying on her new kitten heels when she had to accompany him to a charity event hadn’t been the brightest idea. She tripped and would have face planted if it hadn’t been for Adrien’s fast reflexes. Thankfully, he didn’t make fun of her, in spite of the joke just begging to be made. She was mortified enough as it was.
Instead, he didn’t mind at all when she spent the evening clinging to his arm for dear life and taking small, measured steps whenever they had to move around.
Adrien had just ended the evening by telling her that she’d looked absolutely spectacular. She was so lucky to have him.
This should have discouraged her from trying more. Especially since she’d realised that she’d need something more to actually make a difference. He was that ridiculously tall.
Instead, she got bolder. She bought wedges and almost cried out in triumph when they made it possible to kiss Adrien without craning upwards. Except that when she actually had to take more than a few steps with them, her old friend, lack of coordination, returned for a visit.
Adrien must have caught on by then about what she was attempting to do but still decided to help her instead of making fun of her. Of course.
She actually mastered the wedges and while she didn’t use them daily, they were something she could fall back on when she felt like it.
Of course, this didn’t affect in any way how tall she was when she became Ladybug. She didn’t think that running on rooftops, fighting with villains and creeping around trying to ambush someone would be easy to do with heels.
But when one time Adrien actually had to put her on his shoulders for her to see better, she got fed up.
She sat down and had a talk with Tikki. She knew that there were no limits to how she changed her appearance when in the suit. She could easily make herself taller. It was so easy in fact that she felt silly for not thinking of it sooner.
It was so much fun to see the surprised look on Adrien’s face when she showed up in her usual get-up but instead of barely clearing his chin, she could look him in the eye without an effort.
“I see that you got a talk with Tikki,” he chuckled after making the obvious connection.
“You know all about it, bugaboy, don’t you?” She practically purred, while flicking his bell playfully.
“Hey, don’t make fun of my attempts to impress you,” he laughed. “You know that you don’t need to go to such great lengths, don’t you? I’m already head over heels for you,” he added softly.
“This isn’t about you,” she countered. “It’s about me. I’m tired of being a pocket-sized superhero,” she crossed her arms defensively.
“You looked super cute as Multimouse, though,” he winked at her, making her groan.
“That has its uses. But being the short one constantly is just tiring.”
“Suit yourself. It doesn’t matter to me. Not at all,” he grinned, pulling her to him for a kiss.
It felt good to feel the full advantage of her enhanced height when they faced a villain. It wasn’t just a whim, she defended her choice to herself, it was actually very useful. This is why she did it more than once.
Except that she had to face the fact that the effect wore off the moment she transformed. She could imagine it was rather comical to watch the tall Ladybug give way to the much more petite Marinette so she tried to be understanding of Adrien when he burst into laughter every time it happened.
Well, this didn’t stop her from making a face. Not that this helped.
“Ooh, here comes the cute angry pout,” he’d say every time, going all gooey over her. Which of course made her laugh in spite of herself and she could no longer be mad.
And then he’d sweep her up in his arms and kiss her and she’d realise that she didn’t need to be taller, not all the time. He was more than willing to do his part, to meet her halfway or sacrifice his own comfort for her. She wasn’t the only one who was required to do this and she shouldn’t feel like that.
If she wanted to feel taller for personal comfort or confidence, it was a valid option. But it was perfectly fine when she was just her usual self, because this was how her boyfriend loved her after all.