🍁𝚖𝚊𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚛𝚞𝚙🍁

19 she/her 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿/🇫🇷 i <3 non-canonical ships! My English is BUNS

[puryselpam]

She Comes Home With Me

In which the internet learns two things: the rumors were wrong, and Damian Wayne has never been subtle about claiming what he loves.

Parings: Damian Wayne x Mairntre Dupain-Cheng

TW: Aged Up, Established Relationship, Poor English.

No one knew.

Not the tabloids.

Not Gotham.

Not Paris.

Not even their closest friends knew the full truth.

Damian Wayne and Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been dating for nearly two years.

It wasn't because they were ashamed of each other.

Far from it.

It was because both of their careers demanded privacy.

As the future co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises and one of Gotham's most recognizable public figures, Damian's personal life was constantly under a microscope. Every photograph became a headline. Every smile became a rumor.

Marinette's situation wasn't much better.

The founder and creative director of MDC, the face behind one of the fastest-growing luxury fashion houses in the world, she was considered fashion royalty. Every interview, runway show, and public appearance generated thousands of articles.

Their appointed managers had begged them to:

"Don't make your relationship public."

"People will focus on the romance instead of your accomplishments."

"The internet will turn your lives into entertainment."

So they listened.

Almost too well.

No pictures.

No interviews.

No red carpets together.

No accidental appearances.

Just quiet moments behind closed doors.

And it worked great.

Until it didn't.

Damian was reviewing quarterly reports when his phone vibrated.

Dick had sent him a link.

Dick: Please, don't throw your phone.

Damian frowned before opening it.

A celebrity gossip site filled his screen.

MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG'S SECRET ROMANCE?

Below the headline were dozens of photographs.

Marinette smiling at singer-songwriter Luka Couffaine during a charity gala.

Luka helping her out of a car.

The two laughing backstage after one of her fashion shows.

Perfectly innocent.

The article, however. didn't think so.

"Insiders speculate Marinette and Luka quietly got together months ago..."

"Fans believe she's this is her first big relationship..."

"The chemistry is undeniable..."

Damian's eyebrow twitched.

Then his eye.

Then his jaw.

He scrolled further.

That was his mistake.

Fan edits.

Hundreds of them.

Slow-motion videos.

Romantic music.

Comments.

"They belong together."

"Luka looks at her like she's his whole world."

"She's obviously happier now that she’s in love."

The corner of Damian's phone bent inward beneath his grip.

"...Master Damian?"

Alfred looked into the study.

"...Would you like to put down the phone before it ceases functioning?"

"I'm considering it."

A few days later in Paris, Marinette was pinning fabric to a mannequin oblivious to all of the drama paused when someone wrapped strong arms around her waist.

She look smiled immediately. "You flew here?"

"I did.”

"And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You look grumpy."

"I am."

Marinette became concerned for the short, clipped answers. Well, more short and clipped than normal.

She turned within his embrace. "What happened?"

Without saying a word, Damian handed her his phone.

She read the article.

Then another.

Then another.

Finally...

She sighed. "They're still talking about that?"

"You knew."

"I've been ignoring it."

"They believe you are romantically involved with Luka."

"Luka is practically my brother."

"They remain unaware."

Marinette couldn't help laughing. "Oh my."

"It is not amusing."

"It really is."

"They believe you are we are not together."

She reached up, smoothing a wrinkle from his shirt. "Well, we are."

"I know."

"They're strangers."

"I know."

She cupped his cheek. "They don't know us."

His expression softened immediately. "They are still irritating."

"I noticed."

"You laughed."

"I laughed because you're adorable when you're jealous."

"I am not jealous."

"You flew from Gotham to Paris because of a gossip article."

"...That proves nothing."

She laughed harder.

That evening the two were curled together on Marinette’s apartment couch.

Marinette was sketching.

Damian was pretending to read.

His attention hadn't left her once.

Finally...

"I wish to post a photograph."

She looked up. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"You've never wanted to before."

"I tolerated the speculation."

He closed his book. "I tolerated the rumors."

He reached over, intertwining their fingers. "I tolerated strangers believing we do not know each other.”

His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "I will not tolerate them believing someone else gets to love you."

Marinette stared.

Then smiled. "...That's probably one of the most romantic thing you've ever said."

"I dislike competition."

"There isn't any."

"I am aware."

She leaned over and kissed him softly. "You have permission."

The smallest smile appeared.

One that only she ever saw.

An hour later...

@DamianWayne posted on Instagram.

No warning.

No announcement.

No press release.

Just...

A blurry mirror selfie.

Clearly taken moments before bed.

Damian stood behind Marinette, shirtless, dark training pants hanging low on his hips.

One arm circled her waist possessively.

Marinette wore one of her own silk slip dresses, the straps slipping slightly off one shoulder.

Her hair was beautifully messy.

She was practically melting against him, one hand resting over his where it held her.

The two looked completely comfortable.

Completely domestic.

Completely in love.

Damian wasn't looking at the camera.

He was looking at Marinette with unmistakable affection.

His expression carried the faintest, most self-satisfied smirk.

The caption?

She comes home with me.

Nothing else.

Comments remained enabled.

Big mistake.

Within sixty seconds...

"WAIT THEY'RE TOGETHER???"

"WE WERE SO WRONG."

"DELETING EVERY EDIT I EVER MADE. MAKING A NEW ACCOUNT ASAP.”

"THEY LOOK SO GOOD."

"HELP BE LOOKS SO SMUG."

"BRO REALLY SAID 'SHE COMES HOME WITH ME.'"

"THIS IS THE HARDEST HARD LAUNCH I'VE EVER SEEN."

"THE MAN WAITED TWO YEARS JUST TO FLEX."

News outlets rewrote every story they'd published over the past several months.

Rumors of “Lukanette” disappeared overnight.

Shipping wars ended almost instantly.

Marinette sat beside Damian, scrolling through the internet's collective meltdown.

"You broke social media."

"I corrected misinformation."

She giggled. "You've been waiting to do that, haven't you?"

"For months."

"You even planned the caption, didn’t you?”

"Several versions."

"You had drafts?"

"I did."

She laughed so hard she had to wipe away tears. "You are unbelievable."

Damian simply pulled her into his lap, wrapping both arms around her waist.

"Now," he said quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple, "they may speculate about our future instead."

"And what future is that?"

He looked at her with the same certainty he brought to every important decision in his life before speaking. "The one where everyone knows exactly who you belong beside."

Marinette smiled, resting her forehead against his. "Good thing I already chose you."

For the first time since they started dating, neither of them cared what the headlines would say the next morning.

They finally had the only story that mattered.

[puryselpam]

Fake It 'Til You Realize It

Marinette moves to Gotham to work in Wayne Enterprises' Design Department, where an unexpected request from Tim Drake changes everything

Parings: Tim Drake x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

TW: two idiots in love but one idiot doesn’t know until the first one has enough.

Gotham had never been part of Marinette Dupain-Cheng's plan.

Growing up in Paris, she had always imagined building her own fashion house one day, earning recognition through hard work rather than connections. She loved her parents and their bakery, but she knew that if she wanted to become a designer people remembered, she had to leave the city where everyone already knew her name.

When Wayne Enterprises announced openings in its Design Department for designers from around the world, Marinette had applied on a whim. She never expected to receive an offer.

Three months later, she found herself standing in the lobby of Wayne Tower with a portfolio tucked under one arm and a suitcase waiting in the back of a taxi.

It was terrifying.

It was exciting.

Most importantly, it was hers.

The Design Department quickly became a second home. The atmosphere was nothing like the intimidating corporate environment she'd imagined. Instead, she found herself surrounded by talented artists, pattern makers, textile specialists, and engineers who collaborated to create everything from high-end fashion collections to innovative wearable technology.

Marinette fit in almost immediately.

She quickly became friends with several of the engineers, who were fascinated by the way she could look at a complicated piece of technology and immediately start sketching ways to seamlessly incorporate it into clothing. In return, they happily explained the mechanics behind their inventions, often inviting her down to their workshops whenever they were testing a new prototype.

Lunches became a daily tradition.

Some days they debated the practicality of self-heating winter coats.

Other days they argued over whether hidden pockets or built-in communication devices were the superior design feature.

Marinette insisted both could exist.

The engineers declared she was a genius.

Her coworkers admired her creativity, her endless optimism, and the homemade pastries she frequently brought from her apartment, using recipes passed down from her parents' bakery in Paris.

It wasn't long before everyone in the department knew her by name.

Including Tim Drake.

Unlike the others, Tim rarely stayed in one place for long. As CEO of Wayne Enterprises, he was constantly moving between meetings, departments, and boardrooms. Yet somehow, he always seemed to find an excuse to wander through the Design Department.

At first, Marinette assumed he was simply checking on projects.

Then he started stopping by her desk.

Sometimes it was to ask her opinion on a new product concept.

Sometimes it was to deliver coffee because he'd "accidentally ordered too much."

Sometimes he claimed he was looking for one of the engineers, only to end up talking with Marinette for twenty minutes instead.

Eventually, her co-workers caught on.

"He likes you," one of them whispered after Tim left.

Marinette laughed. "No, he doesn't."

Another co-worker smirked. "The CEO has walked through our department five times today."

"Coincidence."

"He brought you coffee."

"He was being nice."

"He remembered your order."

"...He's observant."

The designers exchanged knowing glances but wisely kept their opinions to themselves.

None of them expected Tim's next visit to begin with the words:

—————🍁 —————

"I have an idea."

Marinette didn't even glance up from the sketch she was refining. "Absolutely not."

Across the table, Tim looked deeply offended. "You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"I do."

"You don't."

"You're about to ask me for a favor that somehow becomes my problem."

Tim pointed at her. "See? You know me."

She sighed, setting her pencil down.

"Fine. What is it?"

Tim leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I need a fake girlfriend."

Marinette blinked.

"...Excuse me?"

"For one night."

"No, thank you."

"You haven't heard why."

"I don't think the reason is going to make that sentence any better."

"It will."

"It won't."

Tim dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "I'm wounded."

"You'll survive."

He grinned. "I have a Wayne Enterprises gala tomorrow. Every time I show up alone, Gotham's elite decides it's matchmaking season."

"And?"

"And I've already been introduced to six different daughters this month."

Marinette tried—and failed—not to laugh. "Six?"

"Bruce thinks it's funny."

"I doubt that."

"Okay, Dick thinks it's funny. Bruce just watches and encourages it."

"And you want me to pretend to date you?"

"Just for the gala."

She narrowed her eyes. "One night."

"I swear."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

It was not one night.

Not even close.

Three days later, Tim showed up at her apartment with coffee and pastries.

"You lied."

"I omitted future possibilities."

Marinette stared at him. "...That's worse."

"I have another favor."

"No."

"My family is having dinner."

"No."

"Dick won't stop asking where my mysterious girlfriend is."

"Still no."

"He already made matching Christmas stockings."

"...It's July."

"He plans ahead." He shrugged, “… Alfred’s cooking spaghetti?”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine."

Tim smiled victoriously. "I knew you'd say yes."

"I hate that you knew that."

Then came another excuse.

A charity auction.

A museum opening.

A company retreat.

A Wayne family movie night.

("You need a fake girlfriend for movie night?"

"Dick invited Kor’i."

"Okay?"

"Jason invited someone. I didn’t even know he could pull!”

"...Okay?"

"Steph and Cass are coming."

"And?"

Tim looked genuinely distressed. "I'll be the only single one."

Marinette laughed. "That's your emergency?"

"It's emotionally devastating."

"No, it's not."

"It could be."

She laughed harder.

"You're ridiculous."

"So...?"

"...Fine.")

By the fifth fake date, everyone knew.

Everyone except Tim.

Dick leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Tim hand Marinette a mug exactly the way she liked it.

"Hey, Marinette?"

"Hm?"

"How long are you two planning to keep ‘pretending’?"

She blinked.

"Whatever do you mean? We are pretending."

Dick looked at Tim.

Tim, who was currently running on fumes, had unconsciously wrapped Marinette in one of his oversized hoodies because she'd mentioned being cold twenty minutes earlier.

Dick looked back at her.

"...Sure."

Tim never noticed the little things that he had began to do with Marinette.

Not because he wasn't observant.

Because they felt natural.

He reached for her hand crossing busy streets.

He texted her every morning.

He remembered every deadline she had.

He brought snacks whenever she worked late.

He saved her favorite seat in the Manor.

He stopped asking before showing up at her apartment.

He just...showed up.

Because she was Marinette.

And that's what they did.

At least, that's what Tim thought.

Eight months after the fake dating began, Tim appeared at her apartment carrying two movie tickets.

Marinette folded her arms.

"No."

He frowned.

"I haven't asked yet."

"You don't have to."

"I think I do."

"You've run out of excuses."

"I haven't."

"Really?"

"Really."

She raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

Tim opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

"...Huh."

She smirked. "Exactly."

He tried again. "I...thought..."

"Thought what?"

"I wanted to see the movie."

"You do."

"...With you."

She waited.

Tim blinked. "...Oh."

Marinette laughed. "Oh?"

"I..." His eyes widened as realization slowly settled in. "I've been asking you to come because..."

She nodded. "Because?"

"I wanted you there."

"Yes."

"...Not because I needed a fake girlfriend."

"No."

Tim looked horrified. "Oh my God."

"What?"

"I've accidentally been taking you on dates."

"For months."

"I've been flirting."

"You've been flirting, yes."

"I bought you flowers."

"You did."

"I made Bruce reschedule meetings because you were free that day."

"You did that too."

"I learned how to braid your hair."

"You watched three tutorials."

Tim covered his face with both hands. "I am an idiot."

Marinette couldn't stop smiling. “A little."

"A huge idiot."

"The biggest."

He groaned. "You knew?"

"I figured it out around month three."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I wanted to see how long it'd take."

"You let me embarrass myself for five months?"

She laughed. "It was kind of adorable."

Tim lowered his hands. "...Really?"

"Really."

"So..."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I should ask properly."

"I think you should."

Tim took a deep breath. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng..."

She smiled.

"Would you stop pretending to be my girlfriend..." He reached for her hand. "And start being my actual one?"

She squeezed his fingers.

"I thought you'd never ask."

She kissed him before he could say another word.

When they pulled away, Tim smiled so brightly it looked like the sun had decided to settle on his face.

"So..."

"So?"

"Can I still use the movie tickets?"

Marinette laughed. "Only if it's a real date."

Tim intertwined their fingers. "I was hoping you'd say that."

For the first time in months, Tim Drake didn't have to invent another excuse to spend time with her.

He finally had the only one he needed. "Because I like you."

Marinette smiled. "I know."

"And?"

"And I like you too."

Tim laughed. "That probably would've been useful information six months ago."

She bumped his shoulder playfully.

"But then I would've missed watching the World's Greatest Detective fail to realize he was already in love."

"I am never living this down, am I?"

"Not a chance."

Tim sighed dramatically.

"Worth it."

Because in the end, every fake date had led him exactly where he wanted to be—even if it took him far too long to realize it.

Thanks for reading!

Critique is accepted!!