#marinaked

[galahadwilder]

Marinaked, Ch. 10

This chapter was written as part of the “Fix @buggachat‘s laptop” fic drive.

Marinaked Archive

*

"Okay," Ladybug muttered, carefully lowering herself to the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut against the stabbing light as her toes brushed against the cobblestones. "Swinging is a bad idea." She tugged on the yo-yo, freeing it from the roof and spooling it down into her waiting hand.

She gritted her teeth as her brain pressed against her skull; trying to swing with a hangover had rattled her squishy-thinky-thing around inside her head and now she was paying for it. Every downswing had just made her want to vomit; every upward yank had crushed her brain like a juice press.

She groaned. No swinging, no rooftops. She was going to have to walk home. On the ground. She was just thankful she lived near the hotel and didn't have far to walk.

*

She managed to make it home without anyone seeing her. Looking up hurt, both her eyes and her skull, but she carefully lined up a throw, latching her yo-yo onto the railing of her balcony and yanking upwards (barely managing not to scream as she did).

She carefully pried open the skylight, then lowered herself onto the bed, goosedown impressing under her feet. She collapsed onto the mattress, throwing her arms wide. "Tikki," she croaked. "Spots off."

The pink light stabbed at her eyeballs, and she crushed her lids shut with a whine. She rolled onto her side, curling up into a ball. "You don' have to yell at me," she mumbled. "I already know I messed up."

Tikki's cool carapace settled onto the skin of Marinette's face. "Oh, Marinette," she whispered. "It's all right."

"It's not," Marinette whimpered. "Ladybug is supposed to..." She sniffled, pressing her face into the pillow. "Supposed to..."

Tikki pressed her paws into Marinette's temple, the familiar minty heat of the Cure flushing against her skin, bleeding out the pressure of her skull. "Marinette," Tikki said. "You may be Ladybug, but you're also Marinette." She rubbed her paws in circles, kneading Marinette's head. "You're allowed to not be perfect."

Marinette moaned, half in relief and half in despair. "I'm sorry, Tikki," she said. "You deserve a better Ladybug."

Tikki's paws stopped. "Don't say that, Marinette," she snapped. "Don't ever say that." Her negligible weight disappeared from Marinette's head, and suddenly a red blob was floating right in front of her eyes, hugging her nose. "You are the best Ladybug I've ever had."

Marinette swallowed. "Thanks, Tikki," she whispered. "That... helps."

Tikki released her nose, flitted away, and reappeared seconds later holding a small orange plastic bottle with a white cap. "Will your meds help?"

Marinette smiled, reaching out to take the pill bottle from Tikki's arms. "Probably," she said, wiping her eyes and unscrewing the top. "Thanks for reminding me." She shook a pill loose into her palm and popped it into her mouth, dry-swallowing. Then she hung her head. "I shouldn't've gotten drunk."

Tikki settled onto the bed in front of Marinette, crossing her tiny legs. "I'm not sure I agree," she said.

Marinette looked up, raised an eyebrow. "What?" she whispered.

"I know how hard you work as Ladybug," Tikki said, "but I'm worried you're putting too much pressure on Marinette." She reached out, pressing the pads of her paw onto the tip of Marinette's nose. "Yes, drinking last night was a terrible idea. But I still think you needed it..." Tikki hung her disproportionately large head.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. Tikki seemed... despondent, in a way she'd rarely seen. "Tikki?" Marinette whispered. "Are you okay?"

Tikki pursed her lips. "I'm not mad at you for drinking, Marinette," she said. "I'm mad at myself for..." She closed her eyes and flopped backward onto her tiny butt. "For putting you in the position where it seemed like the only way to relax."

Marinette reached out and patted Tikki's head, engulfing it with her palm and causing the Kwami to giggle. "It wasn't your fault," Marinette said.

"It kind of was," Tikki said. "Though I'll admit, you're kind of a funny drunk."

Marinette finally cracked a smile—the right words from Tikki, and she knew everything was going to be all right. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Tikki said, beaming right back at her. "Cuddly too."

They sat in silence for a moment, basking in each other's company, before Tikki finally spoke up again. "What do you want to do about Adrien?

Marinette's heart dropped. Right, she thought. The thing that started this. She groaned, rolled onto her back, covering her eyes with her forearm. Adrien is Chat is Adrien and she'd thoroughly embarrassed herself in front of him, twice. "I don't want to think about it," she moaned.

"Okay," Tikki said. "You don't have to."

Marinette tilted her head towards the tiny god and raised an eyebrow. "You're not disagreeing with me," she said, incredulous. Tikki had always pushed her to do better, to be better, to go for what she wanted and not falter—her backing down now was a little unsettling.

Tikki closed her eyes and shook her head. "I keep pushing you," she said. "And it may be because I believe in you, but I don't think you need that anymore." She smiled. "You have plenty of courage of your own. You don't need me to tell you what you want."

Marinette swallowed. "I'm not sure what I want," she said. "I'm—he's... he's my Kitty." She felt her cheeks burning at the thought. "He's... he's not just Adrien anymore, is he?" She groaned, flopping back onto her bed. "He's not a celebrity crush, or even just the guy who sits in front of me in class..." She trailed off, expecting Tikki to butt in, but the Kwami simply blinked owlishly, saying nothing.

Marinette thought about Adrien, about Chat, about her silly, goofy, sweet, dorky, kind partner, and while her stomach swooped, she managed to focus on Tikki's supportive gaze and pushed through the fear, pushed through the I'm not good enough. Everything should've changed, the moment she learned his identity, and it had—she'd just been too focused on how difficult it was interacting with him, and how mortified she was. Not on how her feelings for him had changed.

"Tikki," she said, "I'm in love with him."

Tikki nodded knowingly. "What do you want to do about it?"

Marinette turned over, staring at the roof, and licked her lips. "I don't know," she said. "I mean, I know he likes me as Marinette and Ladybug—"

Inspiration struck the same way her hangover had.

"Tikki," she gasped, a wolfish grin spreading across her face. "I know exactly what he likes."

Tikki grinned back. "Oh, no," she said. "I know that look. That's a Lucky Charm look."

Marinette launched herself out of bed, slid down the ladder, and dashed to the closet. "What do I have that's red?"

Marinaked Archive

[galahadwilder]

Marinaked, Ch. 7

Marinaked Archive

Chat Noir had not had a good day.

To start with, there’d been the whole Marinette problem. Every single time she so much as breathed behind him his chest had gotten tight, the tips of his ears burning, as he was forcibly reminded of what he’d seen, as well as the content of some of his filthier dreams; it was a wonder he’d been able to concentrate at all, to write notes beyond Naked Mari Naked Mari Naked Mari.

And then—and then he’d lost his shirt during the Akuma fight. Embarrassing enough on its own, but normally he could’ve expected Ladybug’s professionalism to keep the rest of the team in line. Instead, the attitude he’d respected since day one and come to expect as a given had utterly evaporated: Ladybug had been basically drooling over his abs. She’d been staring at him the way Plagg looked at Camembert right before he swallowed it whole, like she wanted to just—well. And then... he’d basically had to get naked again for Ladybug to cast the cure—only for her to get so distracted staring at him that she’d dropped the pajamas about four stories, and Queen Bee had had to swing down and grab them because nobody else had been in any condition to concentrate (especially with Carapace absolutely boggled over his sneak peek of his girlfriend’s outfit for the evening).

Too little sleep and the constant bouncing of his thoughts between the two women was frying his poor kitty brain. Honestly, he was lucky he’d made it to patrol at all, much less without tripping over his own two feet—or over something else that was making it rather hard for him to run.

Though his partner for the evening certainly seemed to think otherwise.

"Ugh!” Queen Bee yelled from a rooftop across the street, throwing up her hands. “You are utterly useless tonight, you know that?”

Chat shook his head, trying to dispel thoughts of Marinette’s fingers on his skin or Ladybug’s lips on his face. “S-Sorry!” he yelped. “I’ll... hang on. Be there in a sec.”

Queen Bee groaned. “What’s the point?” she said. She bent her legs, bounding across the street to land next to him with a scatter of shingles. “You’re just going to keep mooning over her all evening anyway, might as well stop here.”

Chat grumbled. He wanted to say he wasn’t mooning, but... he was. He totally was.

Queen Bee clapped his shoulder. “Come on, Hairball,” she said. “Why the long face? I figured you’d be happy you finally got with Ladybug.”

Chat narrowed his eyebrows and shot her a sidelong glance. “Got with?”

Queen Bee frowned. “Wait,” she said. “You’re not...?”

Chat snorted, shaking his head, and decided that standing was for chumps. He collapsed onto his butt.

”Oh, come on!” Queen Bee said, joining him on the ground/roof much more gracefully, crossing her legs as she sat. “We all saw the way she was looking at you today, you had to have done something.”

Chat shook his head and shrugged. “If something happened, I don’t know about it.”

“Well, damn,” Queen Bee said. She put a finger to her chin. “So... she’s still available...?” she said, more to herself than Chat.

“Bee,” Chat growled.

Bee’s eyes widened and she clenched her fists against the tiles of the roof. “I said that out loud?” she said, a horrified blush filling her cheeks.

Chat snorted again, the settled back onto his arms. “Hey, uh, Chloé?” he said. “You’re in the same class as... as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?”

Queen Bee blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “You know her?”

”Yeah, she’s a...” Chat bit his lip. “She’s a friend.”

Bee’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god,” she said, shoving his shoulder. “You have a crush!”

Chat crossed his arms above his head and ducked, trying to ward off further snacks to the upper body. “I do not!” he yelped, but it sounded weak even to him. He could feel his human ears burning as his face turned red, and he sighed, lowering his arms and looking at Queen Bee with what he hoped was a plaintive expression. “Please,” he said. “Don’t tell Ladybug.”

Queen Bee placed her hand over her mouth, fingers touching her lips, trying to hold in her laughter but not really doing that at all.

”I’m serious!” Chat yelped. His face fell. “She’ll think I’m... she’ll... she’ll think I’m  a cad.”

”Oh, Chat,” Bee said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You can do better than Dupain-Cheng.” She waved her other hand in a sort of half-shrug. “Besides, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Chat turned to her, questioning.

Bee sighed. “You know my friend Adrien Agreste? The model?”

Chat’s lips twisted upward in a wry grin.

Bee nodded. “She’s completely head-over-heels for him,” she said, and Chat felt his heart leap. Marinette... she liked him? Like... more than like?

He almost didn’t notice when Queen Bee looked away and her eyes grew somber. “Nobody else has ever been able to catch her eye,” she murmured, her voice dripping with disappointment.

Chat blinked. “Wait a second,” he said. “You—do you have a crush?”

”What!?” Bee shrieked, throwing her hands up, palms toward him. “No, I—I’m not—I don’t—I’m straight...” She trailed off, horrified.

Chat smirked. “Are you telling me,” he said, “that you wouldn’t kiss Ladybug if you had the chance?”

Bee grimaced. “That doesn’t count,” she muttered. “Everyone would.”

Chat opened his mouth to reply, but then his cat ears twitched at the familiar wizz-crack of Ladybug’s yo-yo. He turned, confused—it wasn’t her turn to patrol, what was she...

Ladybug tripped halfway up the roof, rolling forward and smacking straight into Chat's chest. They both stumbled, but he wrapped his arms around her, trying his best to hold her up.

"Thissss... it’s your fault, you stupid..." She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "Stupid... pretty... face!" She giggled, then went limp, collapsing into Chat's arms.

"Ladybug?" Chat gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Mmmmmmfine," she drawled. Then she giggled. "Don't tell Tikki," she whispered. "She thinks I'm home."

"Oh my god," Queen Bee said, covering her mouth. "She's drunk."

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[galahadwilder]

Marinaked, Ch. 6

Marinaked Archive

EVERYTHING WAS TERRIBLE FOREVER.

”Oh-ho-hooooooh my god,” Rena said, staring. “Kitty is cut.”

”Oh my god!” Queen Bee shrieked, covering her eyes. “Put on a blanket or something!”

Oh my god, Ladybug thought, trying not to stare.

Chat was completely naked except for his mask, his ears, and his underwear—Ladybug-pattern boxer shorts. His skin was as red as his underwear as he tried to cover his chest with naked hands, avoiding everyone’s eyes as best he could.

They hadn’t even been fighting the Akuma for ten minutes and Ladybug had kept slipping up, distracted by the closeness of her partner/crush because, even though he didn't know what he'd seen, she was mortified at the mere thought of him. Moreover, now that she knew who he was, she couldn’t keep denying how hot she thought Chatdrien was. Every time he entered her field of vision she lost her focus, but trying not to look at him was even worse. She’d left herself wide open, a prime target for the Akuma’s primary attack. Of course she should’ve expected Chat to tank it for her.

Ladybug was completely frozen as her partner—as the love of her life—whined in distress over having what little dignity he hadn’t sacrificed to his awful sense of humor stripped from him. Oh, god. The things she’d imagined doing to that chest and those legs...

She counted herself lucky that Adrien was a boxers man, because if she’d seen any more of the shape of his ass she thought she might pass out.

"Carapace," Chat said, "can I please borrow your shield?"

Carapace shook his head. "Hell no," he said. "Don't want to deprive the world of the glory of that chest."

"Babe!" Rena yelped.

"What?" Carapace said, not even bothering to hide his staring. "You're the one who proposed the Ladynoir exception clause."

"OKAY!" Ladybug yelped. "Everyone calm down!" Especially me, that would be lovely, thank you. "We—we've still got an Akuma to chase."

Rena smirked. “Not you, Buggy,” she said. “I think you’re distracted enough today. You should...” One eyebrow raised behind her mask. “...stay behind.”

Ladybug growled. “I’m going to kill you,” she whispered, too low for the rest of the team to hear.

Rena just winked and kissed the air, then turned to Carapace and Bee. “Come on, losers,” she said. “We’ve got an Akuma to catch.”

”Who put you in charge?” Bee screeched as the three of them charged across the rooftops in the direction the villain had run. Leaving Ladybug alone with a very-nearly-naked Chat Noir.

She tried not to look, she really did. But Rena was right: the boy was an Adonis—unsurprising, now that she knew who he was, but still. The things she wanted to do to that chest... Unf. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the steam that was no doubt blasting from her ears.

“Ladybug?” Chat croaked. “Could—could I get some pants, please?”

Ladybug blinked, shook her head. “R-right!” she said, fumbling for her yo-yo. “Um... Lucky... Lucky Charm?”

A mess of red polka-dotted flannel fell into her hands. She unfolded it to find a Ladybug onesie, perfectly sized for Chat Noir and a zipper down the front. She groaned, holding it out to him. “Tikki hates me.”

”I’ll take what I can get,” Chat said, relief filling his voice. He took the onesie from her hands, unzipping it and hurriedly stepping in.

”I’m surprised,” Ladybug said, pointedly not looking at him while he dressed. “I figured you’d be more comfortable being shirtless around people.”

”What do you mean?” Chat said, as she heard him zip up the front of the pajamas.

"Well, cause you're a..." Ladybug trailed off, then mentally slapped herself. He didn't know that she knew that he was a model, and she couldn't just... drop that on him. "You know, you're always so, so..." She flexed her bicep the way he always did when he was trying to show off. "That."

He giggled, padding up behind her. "My Lady, I didn't know you noticed."

She turned and flicked the tip of his nose. "Hard not to when you keep flaunting it, Kitty Cat."

"What can I say," he said. "Call me 1080p cause these muscles are defined—is Rena wearing lingerie?" He narrowed his eyes, peering off into the distance.

"She's what?" Ladybug cackled, her head snapping around in the same direction, and yep, Rena Rouge's suit—except for the mask and ears—had vanished and she was definitely wearing a lace jade bra-and-panty set, highlighted in the same lime as Carapace's chest plates, which she'd commissioned from Marinette not a month before. Ladybug shaded her eyes. "Must be date night," she said, then shoved Chat Noir in the shoulders with a smile. "I guess you've just lost the award for most embarrassing underwear choice of the day."

"Come on," Chat smirked, jostling her right back. "Like you're not wearing underwear with me all over it."

"I'm not, you stupid—" she began, then her throat froze up as she realized that she was, in fact, wearing Agreste brand underpants today and thus his name was, in fact, written on her underwear. "Oh, Kwami-dammit."

Chat jerked. "Wait," he said, his voice strangled. "You are?"

Ladybug groaned as she felt the heat rising in her face. "Can you just... have Plagg disintegrate me, please?" she muttered into her hands.

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[galahadwilder]

Marinaked, Ch. 9

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Marinaked Archive

AO3

*

Marinette woke up to a dry mouth, a swollen tongue, and a pounding headache.

"Blurgh," she mumbled, rolling over in her bed. Everything hurt, and everything felt weirdly sticky. "Tikki, can you—"

She didn't manage to finish her sentence. Instead, her throat seized shut on her words, her stomach attempting to leap straight into her mouth. "Urp!" She collapsed in on herself, squeezing her lips shut, and pressed her hand over her mouth to hold in her vomit.

She felt hexagon-patterned spandex press against her lips instead of fingerprinted skin, and her stomach flipped all over again. Oh, Tikki—had she fallen asleep as Ladybug? If her parents walked in on her...

She tore open her eyelids, blinked as the light speared through her eyes. "Gah!" she shrieked, covering her eyes with her arm. She rolled in bed, twisting herself in the sheets, turned towards the door—wait. This wasn't her room. Too large, too white, too bright.

"Agh!" a familiar voice yelped from next to the bed.

Ladybug's muscles all contracted at once, launching out of bed with a squeal and dragging all the sheets along for the ride. She squeezed her whole body, braced to hit the floor—but instead she felt herself slam into somebody's knee, tumbling bodily into the chair where the other girl had been sleeping and knocking them both onto the floor, and suddenly the Hero of Paris found herself pinned beneath the frozen—and steadily reddening—Paris Princess, tangled together in a confusing mess of sheets.

"Ch-Chloé?" Ladybug squeaked. Then all the blood rushed to her head at once with the pressure of Stoneheart's fist, and she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as the light from the Hotel Grand Paris' floor-to-ceiling windows stabbed right through her eyes into the top of her skull all over again.

"I'm sorry!" Chloé gasped, and Ladybug felt a sharp spike of pain as Chloé's palm pressed hard into her shoulder; she was trying to pull away, only for her body to jerk taut against the sheets wrapped around her legs and other arm. "Just... just gimme a sec!"

"Take your time," Ladybug mumbled, turning her face away from the window and pressing it against the carpeting. Ah... sweet soft floor. Felt great against her crushing headache.

"Lemme just... hang on," Chloé said. "I, uh... Pollen? Help?"

The interior of the sheets flashed yellow. "Yes, My Queen!" a tiny voice said, and the sheets began to unravel from within.

Finally, after a minute of Chloé growing increasingly flustered, she pulling her hand loose. "Okay, I think I've got it."

Less than a minute later, the two of them were free of each other. Ladybug had elected to climb back into bed and bury her face into the pillow to block out the light. , while Chloé—who seemed to be steadfastly avoiding looking at her—was sitting on the ground, leaning against the foot of the bed.

"Did you seriously... sleep in the chair?" Ladybug mumbled. "Thought you had too much..." She raised her hand, spun it, trying to force the word through the cotton stuffing that seemed to be filling her skull. "...'Dignity' for that."

"Yeah, well," Chloé said, then huffed. "Someone had to watch your drunk ass to make sure you didn't, I dunno, jump out the window or something."

Ladybug groaned. "Akuma?"

Chloé snorted. "Nope," she said. "Far as I can tell, you got plastered all on your own."

Memories of last night suddenly flashed in Ladybug's head—she'd finally reached a decision to talk to Chat, to tell him everything, except then she'd pretty much gone into meltdown, and Tikki hadn't been able to talk her down. Somehow, in her panic, she'd come to the conclusion (which, she now realized with a squeeze of her sinuses, was definitely the panic talking) that since Drunkinette had been brave enough to tell Chat pretty much whatever she wanted, a little wine to sooth her nerves would be just right. And then somewhere along the line "a little" had turned into "a lot."

She was never trusting Alya's recommendation for "liquid courage" again.

"How bad was I?" Ladybug said, folding the pillow over onto her face. The walls probably wouldn't be able to judge her, since they didn't have brains, but she couldn't be too careful.

"You were fine!" Pollen said.

Chloé snorted. "Well, let's see," she said. "You showed up at patrol unannounced, basically molested Chat, spent most of the flirting with—with me—" Her voice suddenly broke. "And—and you somehow managed to completely forget my identity."

Ladybug stiffened. Oh, Tikki. Poor Chat. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he'd been—he'd stated, repeatedly, that he didn't think he could do what she did during Dark Cupid, not if she wasn't in her right mind. Getting exactly what he wanted in exactly the wrong way? It must've been hell.

"Flirting with Chloé" was another pretty good indicator that she had been utterly smashed. She'd never exactly made a secret of her attraction to girls—it wasn't particularly anyone's business, but she never really denied it—but she'd never found Chloé of all people particularly attractive, and she'd always... well, up until last night at least, she'd tried her best to avoid pushing Chloé out of the closet. Apparently, Ladydrunk either didn't need as much emotional attachment to get physically attracted to someone, or she'd somehow managed to get over the gratingness of Chloé's personality.

"Sorry," Ladybug mumbled. "I didn't... mean to make either of you uncomfortable."

"Well, you did," Chloé snapped. "What the hell was that even about?" She heard Chloé stand up. "You're the most responsible person I know, and you got wasted on a school night?"

Ladybug's muscles seized. "Oh my gods!" she shrieked, bolting out of bed and trying to ignore the excruciating rush of blood to her aching head. "It's Tuesday!" She tried to dash toward the window, only for her foot to slip on the sheets that were still piled on the floor. She barely managed to catch herself on Chloé's overnight chair.

"Relax! Yikes," Chloé said, checking her phone. "It's only... six in the morning. You're fine, you've got like an hour."

Ladybug frowned, grumbling. (Also, hour and 45 minutes, considering when she usually woke up, but Chloé didn't need to know that.)

"Seriously," Chloé said, "what the heck were you doing that needed to be that drunk?"

Ladybug closed her eyes, breathed in through her nose. "I... Um, over the weekend, I..." She pressed her palm agaist her forehead, sinking into the velvet of the chair. "I found out Chat's civilian identity is the boy I have a crush on."

Chloé stared at her.

"Oh my," Pollen said.

"Huh," Chloé added.

"Yyyyyep," Ladybug groaned.

Chloé pursed her lips, then nodded. "Pollen, go get Jean," she said. "We're gonna need a lot of coffee."

Marinaked Archive

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[galahadwilder]

Marinaked, Ch. 8

Marinaked Archive

Ladybug rolled her arm, pointed to Queen Bee. "You got... good int-in-intui..." She snorted. "You know things."

”What do we do?” Chat whispered, trying to hold up his Lady. She staggered against him, giggling.

”Have you ever been drunk?” Bee said.

Chat shook his head. “Not once ever.”

Bee rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised,” she said, reaching forward to poke Ladybug between her eyebrows. (Ladybug’s eyes crossed, and she whined—and Chat’s suit suddenly got a lot tighter.)

”You have?” Chat said, his voice strangled, trying to take his mind off the cuddly girl in skintight spandex who was currently attached to his side.

Bee scoffed, flipping her ponytail. “What, you think I can get through a political event without being utterly sloshed?” she said. “Your faith in me is astounding.” She put her hand under Ladybug’s chin, tilting her face up. “First thing—”

”Hey sexy,” Ladybug interrupted. “Mmm. Sexy bee.”

Bee went beet red, and Chat gagged on his tongue.

”Sexy kitty,” she continued, slumping over into Chat’s shoulder. “Wanna... abs.”

”Okay!” Bee squeaked. “She, uh, she needs... water!” She nodded to herself, pointedly looking away from Ladybug. “Water, right, yes.”

Chat felt Ladybug’s hands begin to trace gentle circles across his chest, and it was like a red-hot steel rod had been shoved up his spine. “Right!” he yelped. “Okay, water, sure, sounds... good?”

”Mm, yeah,” Ladybug whispered into his ear, her hot breath tickling his neck. “I’m thirsty.”

Chat gulped. He was so utterly doomed.

”She—she needs a bed,” Bee stammered. “Do you... know where she lives?”

”And how the crap would I know that, Chloé?” Chat shouted. “I have no idea who she—”

He was interrupted by the feeling of his bell zipper descending as Ladybug tugged it down his chest.

He gulped. “L-Ladybug?”

She kept pulling, slowwwwwllly unzipping the front of his suit, tooth by agonizing tooth. ”You saw me naked, isss only fair...”

Chat snatched her wrist. ”What are you talking about?” Chat said. “I was the one who got stripped today, not you.”

Ladybug giggled. “Oh right,” she said, releasing the bell and tracing her finger down the newly exposed flesh. “Wrong one.”

Chat shivered with guilty delight—she was going to kill him.

”Okay, Ladybug,” Queen Bee said, grabbing their leader’s shoulders and pulling her away from Chat. “Let’s—”

Ladybug clumsily slapped Bee’s hand away. “Wait your turn!” She turned back to Chat, pressing her cheek against his abs, and sighed in pleasure.

Chat and Bee met each other’s eyes in shock. If there wasn’t steam billowing from the neck of his suit, Chat would eat a whole wheel of Camembert.

“Doesn’t Rena know?” Bee whispered.

”Date,” Chat responded in a low tone. “Cara makes her turn her phone off.”

Queen Bee closed her eyes, swallowed, pushed her bangs out of her face. “Okay,” she said. “I have an idea.” She cupped Ladybug’s face with her hands. “Hey, Ladybug?”

The spotted heroine jerked to attention. “Yes I am Loodyboog,” she said, her eyes wandering.

Chat snorted.

“Think you can swing over a few buildings with us?”

Ladybug unslung her yo-yo and began to spin it, forcing Chat to leap out of the way lest he be brained with it again. “Course I can,” she slurred. “Watch me go.”

*

Queen Bee touched down on the carpet just outside the Hotel Grand Paris, not even slowing as she transitioned smoothly from swinging to marching straight past the doorman, through the front door, and into the lobby. “Antoine!” she shouted, marching straight up to the receptionist.

He jerked, staring at her. “Mademoiselle Bourgeois!” he said. “We weren’t expecting you back for another forty minutes.”

“Emergency,” she said. “Pollen, buzz off.” Her transformation fell, and Chloé pointed toward the front door, where a clearly inebriated Ladybug was stumbling through the door, supported by her partner’s shoulder. “Do we have a room available for Ladybug?”

Antoine boggled. “Erm... yes,” he said, tapping frantically at his keyboard. “We have several rooms available... I suggest the one right next to yours.”

”Perfect,” Chloé said. “Thank you, Antoine.”

”Where’s Queen Bee?” Ladybug said breathlessly, peering around the lobby with wide eyes.

”Bugaboo, we need to go upstairs now,” Chat said, holding up her head and steering her toward the elevator.

”Send up water!” Chloé called behind her as she dashed after the heroes. “And coffee! She’ll need it!”

*

Ladybug conked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

”I can’t leave her,” Chat said, staring down at her peaceful form. “Not like this.”

”You’re welcome to stay,” Chloé said, knowing he wouldn’t.

Chat shook his head. “My—my parents are going to miss me,” he said, his voice tinged with fear.

She didn’t miss the way he stumbled over the word “parents”—it was no secret among the Miracusquad that Chat Noir probably had the worst home life out of anyone on the team. She doubted he actually had both parents. And she could guess what might happen if he was “missed.”

”Go home, Chat,” she said, massaging his shoulder. “I’ll look after her. I promise.”

He turned to her with glistening eyes. “Thank you,” he said, catching her hand between his. “My Queen.”

And then he was out the window, and Chloé settled down to wait.

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@rainforestgeek @36corndogs @paganinpurple @inkshila @viva-la-swen

[galahadwilder]

spoilerspoilerspoilerspoilerspoilerspoiler

You’d think Marinette would’ve learned her lesson about alcohol in Marinaked but apparently not

[galahadwilder]

Could you continue that #marinaked or a #drunkinette drabble that you've posted (which ever) if i donated?

I absolutely could! Marinaked needs more love.

[galahadwilder]

Marinaked, Ch. 5

Marinaked Archive

Adrien had hoped that the funk he’d been in all weekend would have subsided by Monday. He’d managed not to think about it all Sunday—to the point that if he wasn’t focused on it he would completely forget what it was that distracted him but shit now he was thinking about her think about fencing think about fencing okay good. He breathed out, eyes closed. It was off his mind. He was gonna be okay.

Then he saw her, and he knew he was good and fucked.

She was walking with Alya, laughing about... something, and suddenly there she was again, in her room, naked and sultry and smiling and beckoning him forward and fuck!

He leaped behind a tree, trying to hide his burning face. Can’t let her see me. He huffed, trying to control his breathing, to bring down his blood pressure, to get the images of her out of his head. Ladybug, focus on Ladybug. You love Ladybug!

”Hey, uh, you okay?”

”Agh!” Adrien shrieked, jerking backward and slamming into the tree. “Ow!”

”I’m sorry!” Myléne yelped. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Adrien sighed, bending over and grasping his stomach. “It’s... you’re okay,” he said. “I’m just on edge today.”

Myléne glanced around the tree—then giggled. “Oh, is this about Marinette?” she said. “That’s so sweet!”

“Ngah!” Adrien yelped, covering his head. He collapsed against the the side of the tree. “Please,” he moaned. “Please don’t say her name.”

Myléne sat down next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adrien shook his head with a whimper.

Myléne patted his shoulder. “You’re going to have to face her eventually,” she said.

He nodded. “I know,” he whispered.

Myléne stood and offered him her hand. “Come on, Adrien,” she said. “Class is starting soon. You don’t want to be late...” She shuddered.

”Yeah... yeah,” Adrien said. “Give me a few minutes.”

”Okay...” Myléne said. “I can’t cover for you for very long, though. I mean I’ll try but...”

Adrien smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I know that must’ve been hard for you to...” He shook his head. “I think I’m okay, actually.” He took her hand.

She smiled. “Marinette really cares about you, you know.”

”I’m...” He shook his head. Don’t. “I’m starting to realize that, yeah.” Ladybug. “Any advice?”

Myléne smiled. “Don’t go too overboard,” she said. She pressed her pointer fingers together, twisted. “Make the confession simple. If you wait for the perfect moment, or the perfect words—”

”I’m...” Adrien sighed. Good advice if I was planning to confess something. But I don’t—

Marinette laughing. Like sunshine.

He covered his face with hands and groaned.

***

He could handle Marinette. He could handle Marinette. It was just Marinette. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had these kinds of thoughts about her before—she was a beautiful, strong, intelligent girl, and he was an adolescent boy with a weakness for exceptional women. He’d long been aware of his burgeoning crush on her, but he’d never let them distract him—whether from class or from Ladybug—before.

But that was before he’d learned she wanted to kiss him too. And that was before he’d seen her naked.

Myléne was humming a happy tune as the two of them turned to enter the classroom. He followed her in, trying to look anywhere but at Marinette, to keep his eyes away—

No good.

They locked eyes, and both of them froze.

Adrien couldn’t breathe. He was stuck there, in the doorway, all of his muscles paralyzed as the details of his dreams from the last three nights flashed through his mind as his stomach jumped into his throat and began to strangle. He wanted her. Oh, god, he wanted her.

But she wasn’t breathing either. Her eyes, so impossibly blue, blown wide at the sight of him, her face pinking into a lovely and enticing red. She stared at him, halfway to the chair, and something in him suddenly realized—she knew.

Wait, no, not possible. Even if she remembered him dropping by, she couldn’t possibly know he was Chat Noir.

Alya patted Marinette on the back. “Breathe, girl,” she whispered.

Marinette gasped, collapsing into her chair and slumping forward with a sob.

Adrien swallowed. Today was going to be terrible.

***

Marinette wasn’t doing particularly well herself. She knew that the second Adrien walked into the room she’d be screwed...

She hadn’t been expecting the look on his face when he saw her. Or the blush. Or the... everything.

She managed to ignore him for most of the morning, until Alya’s phone rang just before lunch. She pulled it out, then looked up at Marinette. “Akuma,” she mouthed.

Marinette smiled. Finally, a distraction—wait.

She turned, caught a glimpse of the boy in front of her Adrien. Adrien was Chat Noir.

She whined and buried her face in her hands.

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