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Luka looked up as the bedroom door opened, a smile warming his face as Marinette walked out. She was yawning, her short hair a mess and her arms raised above her head in a sleepy stretch that pulled the hem of his old Jagged Stone shirt higher on her creamy thighs. She hadn’t bothered putting her pants back on. He wondered if she’d given the same courtesy to her underwear – if it was still lying on his floor, wherever he’d thrown it earlier that night. Her arms were still above her head, hands clasped on her elbows, when she opened her eyes and caught him staring. A lazy, sleepy smile curled her lips.
He loved that smile. It was one of his top five favorite things in the world.
“Hey, you,” she said, her voice thick and groggy from sleep. That voice – the way it sounded after just waking up, in his bed, where he hoped she’d decide to spend every night for the rest of their lives – was quickly becoming a favorite thing, too. He held his hand out for her and beckoned, wanting her closer.
“Hey,” he said, smiling as she moved his guitar to prop against the side of the couch, crawling onto his lap instead. He chuckled as his hands found her hips, his eyes closing as her hands sank into his hair. “Did I wake you?”
“Only in that the bed was suddenly too cold and empty,” she answered, bending to press a slow, languid kiss to his lips. “I woke up freezing, and then I heard you out here with Claire and thought, ‘That hussy. He could be putting his hands to much better use.’”
He started to laugh, but then she leaned into him and it cut off in a hiss as she settled more firmly over his lap. One of her hands slipped between them, teasing lower and lower until she was fiddling with the button of his fly. She leaned even closer, rocking her hips onto his cock. He bit his lip as her finger scratched at his stomach. He was starting to regret putting his jeans back on.
“…put them to better use, Luka,” she whispered, her lips at his ear and nibbling. He sucked in a breath when she nipped a bit harder at his lobe. He was only aware of his button coming undone because her hand was suddenly against his stomach, slipping inside his jeans. “Or at least let me use mine.”
“Marinette…” he sighed, his head falling back as she unzipped his jeans and worked his cock out. God, he was so hard already…she stayed close, keeping his cock trapped between them as her fingers curled around him and she slowly began to pump. He swallowed when she leaned in again, her lips finding his neck. Her thumb swept over his tip, and a shiver raced along his spine.
“So mean, Luka,” she murmured, gently scraping her teeth along his throat before kissing his Adam’s apple, giggling when he swallowed and it bobbed against her lips. She kissed it again and gave his cock a squeeze. “Leaving me all alone like that…I got cold.”
“Sorry…” he hummed, his hands leaving her hips to slide along her thighs, towards her knees and then back up and slipping under her…his shirt. He’d never get tired of seeing her in his clothes. His hands moved higher, his smile growing when he found nothing but soft skin underneath. “Really inconsiderate of me.”
“Mmmm…” she hummed, laying her head on his shoulder. Her hand was still moving between them, passing over his cock in slow, torturous strokes. “Very. You said you’d take care of me, Luka. Make me feel good.”
“Always, baby,” he whispered. He turned his head to kiss her forehead, smiling as he moved one of his hands over her hips and towards her sex. She was so wet – he could feel her soaking through his jeans. “I can do that right now, if you want.”
“Naughty,” she snickered, scooting back a bit more. He blinked open his eyes as she was suddenly gone. He raised his head to find her on her knees beside him, her hand still wrapped around his cock and her head moving towards where she was holding him steady. She caught his eyes and winked, a delicious promise in her dark eyes. “But I’m taking care of you right now. You wouldn’t ruin my fun, would you, Luka?”
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. She paused, her mouth directly above his tip, as if she was waiting for an answer. He quickly shook his head, and the warm air from her breathy giggle ghosting over the sensitive head of his cock had him shivering. She kissed the tip and grinned up at him.
“Good, Luka,” she purred. His hand dropped to her back, rubbing between her shoulders, but it slid up to tangle in her hair as she finally lowered her mouth on him. His head fell back against the couch, a moan slipping past his lips as her tongue swirled around him.
“Fuck, Marinette,” he hissed, his hand fisting in her hair. It wasn’t as effective with this new pixie cut she’d adopted a few weeks back – his fingers kept losing their grip. He loved how it looked, but he missed her longer hair sometimes. One of her hands was still wrapped around him, working the part of his cock that wasn’t inside her mouth, but the other reached out for one of his hands. He threaded their fingers together, sighing as she squeezed. “You’re too good at this, baby.”
She slowly lifted her head, and he hissed as her teeth lightly dragged against his length. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make his hips buck towards her. She was giggling again when she released him with a pop, her hand sliding along his length as she pressed a kiss to the juncture of his thigh. She looked up at him through hooded eyes, and that look alone was almost enough to make him come. He combed his fingers through her hair, and she sighed before kissing his cock again. She laid her cheek against his thigh and pouted up at him.
“You’re so cold, Luka,” she said. He blinked at her, confused. He felt anything but cold. What was she…?
“Wh-what?” he stammered, trying to focus on her words even as she continued to work him over. She gave a little twist of her wrist as she reached the tip, and he moaned as he bent towards her. He blinked at her, confused, as she kissed his thigh.
“Come on, Luka!” she called. Why did she sound angry? He grunted as she jerked him harder than before. She kissed his cock before looking back to him – and now she looked angry, too. She reached up, and he went to hold her hand, but instead of going for his hand she…slapped him? He blinked at her in confusion. “Wake up!”
“Wha-?” he started, but she slapped him again.
“LUKA!” she screamed, and he gasped as he jerked awake, his eyes snapping open and staring in hazy confusion at his bedroom ceiling. Or…no. At the worried blue eyes narrowed at him, blocking the ceiling. The worried, blue, masked eyes…?
“Finally,” Ladybug sighed, patting his cheek before leaning back. Almost like she was apologizing, and that was when he realized his cheek was stinging. Had…had she actually slapped him? “Damn, Luka. That must have been some dream – I’ve been trying to wake you up for five minutes. You’re not normally that deep a sleeper.”
“Sleep…what?” he asked, his voice thick and gravelly. He coughed to clear his throat as he pushed himself up on his elbows, looking around blearily. He was in his room. His room. Alone…or not alone, because Ladybug was there, but he had been sleeping and alone before she had gotten there because…
“So mean, Luka…leaving me all alone like that…”
He slumped forward and scrubbed at his face. A dream. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream, because Marinette…Marinette…
“Luka?” Marinette – Ladybug – called, placing her hand on his bare shoulder. He jumped, wide eyes staring at her over his fingers. She was frowning as her gloved hand squeezed his shoulder. “Are you…are you ok?”
Her lips were pursed in a frown, her eyes furrowed as she studied him, but his eyes dropped to her mouth and his throat went dry as his mind shot back to his dream, to her bent over his lap and…he swallowed thickly as his dick twitched at the thought, already hard and eager for her attention.
Attention it was never going to get, because they weren’t like that.
A cold wind blew through his room, and he shivered as he slumped forward again. Her grip tightened on his shoulder before sliding to his back, rubbing soothing circles as he shivered. He glanced at the balcony and found the door was open. He would have sworn he’d left it closed, but he supposed that was how Ladybug had gotten in.
He may have closed it, but he knew he hadn’t locked it. He never did – this wasn’t the first time Ladybug had needed him in the middle of the night. Besides, his flat was up high enough that only someone like Ladybug could make use of his balcony entrance, anyway.
“…fine,” he finally choked out. He cleared his throat when her hand stilled on his back. He sat up quickly to dislodge it – he needed her to stop touching him. He grit his teeth and tried to smile at her. “Just…give me a minute. Intense dream.”
She winced at that, her hand still hovering by his arm.
“You’re not gonna like why I’m here, then,” she said. Her hand wavered uncertainly before she pulled it back to her lap. He glanced down at his own, thankfully noting that his thick blanket was bunched up around his waist, hiding his…condition from her. Fuck, he needed to calm down…there was only one reason Ladybug would be in his room at night, and if he had to transform before… “Good dream or bad dream?”
“Huh?” he asked, looking back up at her. Her lips twitched in a hesitant smile. He tried not to stare at them and remember. He tried not to think about her at all.
“You said intense, but that could be good or bad,” she said. Her smile turned playful, and that wasn’t helping. “Do I need to apologize for waking you?”
“No, of course not,” he said quickly, shaking his head. He pushed out a sigh and shoved his hands through his hair, knotting his fingers in the strands and tugging. The minor pain helped ground him. There was a reason Ladybug had woken him up. She needed him. Viperion. There was probably an akuma, and he had to get his shit together so he could go help her.
There’d be time to kick his subconscious for getting stupid again later.
“You sure?” she asked quietly, teasing. She tapped his chin, and he jumped again as he looked up at her. She was smiling, but there was a nervous edge to it. “You won’t even look at me, Luka.”
He swallowed and forced a smile on his face. Forced himself to hold her gaze.
“Sorry,” he said, chuckling weakly. “I told you. Intense. Just…getting my bearings. What’s up, Mlle. Bug?”
“Akuma,” she said, shrugging. She pulled Sass’s bangle out of her yoyo and held it out to him. “One we can’t afford to take any chances with. Can I count on you, Luka Couffaine?”
“Always, Mlle. Bug,” he said, taking the bangle and sliding it onto his wrist. He closed his eyes, ignoring Sass’s knowing little smirk when the little shit appeared beside him. “Sass, Scales Slither.”
– V –
The sound that came out of Ladybug as she slammed the shed door closed wasn’t quite a scream. She wouldn’t let herself scream, not when it would give away their position. It was definitely angry, though, and more than a little frustrated.
And, as far as Viperion was concerned, more than a little justified.
Because Hawkmoth’s latest akuma was fairly harmless, as far as akumas went. From what Ladybug and Chat Noir had gathered before Ladybug had pulled Viperion in, the victim was a young woman who hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in over a week thanks to thin walls and noisy neighbors. Hawkmoth had given her the ability to gift everyone pleasant dreams, in return for the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir, of course. Which would have been fine – perfectly harmless, in most cases. Good dreams come to life: an exhausted mother’s baby finally slept through the night; a plain-looking man was suddenly the object of an attractive, busty woman’s desire; an over-worked housewife stumbling out of a karaoke bar was suddenly the greatest singer in Paris. More steamy makeouts than either hero was comfortable with (Ladybug because she just wanted to focus on the akuma, and Chat because it was making his battlefront flirting a bit more obnoxious than usual). The problem came when the good dream was allowed to play out. Once their fantasy was realized, the akuma’s victims would slip into a coma-like sleep that it seemed only the Miracle Cure would wake them from.
Which is what had sent Ladybug after Viperion. Chat falling into that sleep would be bad, of course. But if Ladybug got hit? If her fantasy was allowed to play out and she slipped into that coma before purifying the akuma or casting the Miracle Cure? Paris was doomed. Viperion hadn’t let himself dwell on the curiosity of what Ladybug’s fantasy would be – or the trouble that would follow if he was hit and his own fantasy was allowed to play out. If he was lucky, it would be like the one girl they had passed on the run to the fight: Marinette in a wedding dress, eager to give him a kiss that would signify the start of their lives together.
…he was more afraid it would be like the dream she’d woken him from earlier. Marinette, half-naked and…he shook his head, clearing it of Those Thoughts as Ladybug kicked the door of the shed they’d thrown Chat into. He couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted by Those Thoughts. Ladybug – Marinette, the real one, not… – was counting on him.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Ladybug bit as she stomped back over to him. A loud, indecent cry came out of the shed, and he could see her face turning red in the moonlight. He wasn’t sure if it was because of embarrassment or rage, though. “Of course Chat would let himself get hit. Of course that would be his fantasy.”
Because they had landed on the roof to find ‘Ladybug’ – or Chat’s fantasy version of her, with a skimpier super suit and eyes only for him – shoving Chat against the wall of the shed they’d just locked them in, the two locked together in a heated makeout as Fantasy Bug tried to divest Chat of his own super suit. The bell had been dangling by his navel, which was something Viperion had never wanted to see.
The stupid Fantasy had had her hand laced with Chat’s, her fingers inching his Miraculous off his finger when the real Ladybug had jerked her off of him and thrown them both in the shed.
…but not before Chat could whine at her to join them, please!
“Ok, new plan,” Ladybug sighed, rubbing at her face. “Find the akuma. Kick her ass for making me see that. Save the city.”
“Sounds like our usual plan,” Viperion chuckled. She looked back at him with a grateful smile, one he easily returned. Another moan – followed by a giggle – from the shed had her rolling her eyes.
“She honestly doesn’t seem too preoccupied with us, though. Why would she hit Chat, have him completely at her mercy, and just…move on?” Ladybug mused, frowning. She scanned the street below them, looking for any sign of the akuma. Viperion winced as another loud, indecent moan came from the shed. He wondered if Fantasy Bug had gotten Chat’s ring off yet.
“Bait? Distraction? Waiting for you to come back to hit while you’re preoccupied with Chat?” Viperion suggested rapid-fire. She turned and looked at him, lifting an eyebrow at his tone, and he sighed as he shook his head. “Sorry. Just…not loving Chat being out of commission.”
“Not like it’s the first time,” Ladybug scoffed bitterly. She peered around the ledge of the building, but the coast was still clear. “But agreed. It’s why we brought you in tonight. If I get hit…”
“I know you getting hit isn’t an option, but not gonna lie, Mlle. Bug…I’m really hoping I don’t get hit, either,” he said, wincing again as another moaning “M’lady!” came from the shed. Ladybug gave him another look, though this time she looked amused.
“Pease,” she said. “As long as your fantasy isn’t another X-rated version of me, we’re good.”
He looked away, uncomfortable. That was exactly what he was afraid of.
And Ladybug – Marinette – had known him long enough, knew him well enough, that she immediately picked up on that fear.
“…no,” she gasped, and when he glanced back at her both eyebrows were raised over wide eyes. It was dark, but he was pretty sure her face was turning red. He swallowed. “Viperion, seriously?”
“Not…not you,” he said, shifting as he tried not to think about her – Marinette her, not Ladybug her – in his shirt, straddling his lap as she… “But I think it’ll be better for both of us if we don’t get the chance to have the dream you woke me from come to life.”
“Viperion…” she started, turning towards him, but he was already shaking his head and reaching for his bangle.
“It’s not important right now, Mlle. Bug,” he said, brushing his thumb over the snake head. He looked up at her, the words to set the reset point on his lips, when he saw the shimmer behind her. His eyes shot open. “Ladybug, watch out!”
She grunted as he dove at her, tackling her to the ground and rolling a short distance from the edge of the roof. They landed with him braced above her, panting. When she opened her eyes, he was staring through wide eyes at something in front of them as silvery dust rained from his back. His entire body was tense, his jaw clenched so tight she would swear a vein was sticking out of his neck. A lilting giggle had her own eyes popping open, and she dropped her head to the roof and looked, and then she realized why Viperion hadn’t wanted to get hit, either.
Because standing in front of them was…her. Civilian her. Hair disheveled, face flushed, and wearing nothing but a large, white, Jagged Stone t-shirt. (His old t-shirt, one he knew she couldn’t possibly be wearing because it was still on his floor where he had dropped it after coming home from a run that night, and one she had never had the opportunity to wear besides because they weren’t like that.)
“Luka…” Fantasy Her called, voice pouting as her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. “You left me all alone again…the bed got cold…”
She started walking towards them. Viperion was frozen in place. Ladybug reached up and took his face in her hands, directing his gaze back to her.
…he looked terrified.
She tried not to focus too much on that. On how she was his fantasy and apparently scared the shit out of him.
“She’s not real,” Ladybug said softly, firmly. He swallowed and nodded.
“I know th-” he started, but his jaw snapped shut again when pale hands slid over his shoulders. Ladybug’s eyes narrowed as Fantasy Her leaned her head on the back of Viperion’s shoulder, smiling as she reached around to trace the diamond on his chest. Viperion swallowed as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.
“Warm me up, Lu,” Fantasy Her whispered. Viperion’s eyes closed as she pulled his earlobe into her mouth, nipping at the stud. His breathing was starting to sound strained. Fantasy Her’s eyes opened, and she glanced down at Ladybug with a triumphant smirk on her lips. Irrational as it was, that smirk made Ladybug want to punch it off her – she didn’t care if she’d technically be punching herself. One of Fantasy Her’s hands slid down his chest, lower and lower and… “We weren’t done, baby. You didn’t even get to –”
Ladybug tried to push herself up, to roll them away from this…this…Not Her, but in the process her knee bent, moved between his, and accidentally bumped against the hard-on he’d been desperately trying to control since she’d first woken him up. His eyes popped open in surprise, staring at her as his mouth dropped open, and she froze beneath him.
“L-Luka…” Ladybug whispered, her throat suddenly dry, and his eyes fluttered closed as a quiet, strangled moan slipped out of him. Her hands tensed on his face, and the Fantasy giggled as her hand cupped him. Ladybug couldn’t see it – she was too busy watching the tortured look on Viperion’s face in some kind of transfixed, horrified wonder – but she could feel her…it’s hand by her knee.
Kneading.
She had to get him away from her.
“Vi-Viperion!” she snapped, tripping over the name in a way that just wasn’t fair. She swallowed, trying to ignore the mess of complicated feelings – mortification, desire, wonder, anger, joy, want – and focus on the problem at hand. Viperion needed her, and not…her expression steeled as she pressed her fingertips into his cheeks. “Viperion!”
Her desperate voice seemed to be enough to snap him out of it.
Viperion actually growled as he jabbed his elbow back into Fantasy Her, roughly shoving her away. He scrambled to his feet and hauled Ladybug after him. His eyes darted to where his Fantasy was sitting on the roof, tears welling in her eyes as she reached for him. His grip tightened on Ladybug’s biceps. She was sure, if not for the super suit, she’d have bruises there in the shape of his fingertips.
“We –” he started, but then the damned thing spoke, and he froze again.
“Luka, what’s wrong? Don’t you love me anymore?” she…it asked. Ladybug rolled her eyes, but when she looked back at Viperion he looked…stricken. She reached out to touch his face, but he flinched away from her. “I just wanted to take care of you…like you always do me…”
“Viperion,” Ladybug hissed, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. There was a manic, almost feral look to his eyes, and her heart broke at the sight. “She. Is. Not. Real.”
He nodded, but it looked like he struggled with it. Ladybug stepped closer, and he sucked in a breath as he took an instinctual step back.
“She’s a fantasy,” Ladybug said firmly. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the Fantasy start to move behind them – as she watched her rise to her feet and take slow, determined steps closer. As a hand that Ladybug couldn’t help but equate to a claw reached out, fingers itching for his shoulder. Ladybug’s hands slid from his face, down his shoulders, and settled on his arms. Viperion was hyper-focused on her, as if one look away would break whatever resolve he had left.
…she’d never seen him like this before. Her cool, calm, composed Luka – Viperion – always level-headed and focused in a fight.
It scared her.
The Fantasy’s fingers once again curled over his shoulder. Ladybug’s eyes flicked to the fake her’s nails, surprised by the detail: they were coated in the same pink polish Luka had helped her apply not three days ago, and the edges were already chipped like she’d complained about over the phone that very afternoon during lunch.
“Come back to bed with me, baby…” the Fantasy purred, and Ladybug bristled at her voice. It was sweet as sin, low and pleading and making Viperion’s eyes flutter. “Our bed’s too cold without you, Lu.”
A startled cry was torn from his lips as she shoved him behind her, and the Fantasy screamed as she landed a solid kick to her middle, sending her sprawling. Before she could check to make sure the damn thing was staying down, she hauled Viperion over her shoulder, threw her yoyo at the nearest chimney, and…fled.
She could hear the Fantasy screaming after them, screeching at Ladybug for stealing her Luka and pleading for him to come back to her. Fantasy Her didn’t have Ladybug’s yoyo, though, and it wasn’t long before her shouts faded out behind them. When Ladybug finally felt safe – a few blocks away from the fight, because she really wasn’t sure how these fantasies worked and whether or not the…Fantasynette would be able to follow them – she touched down on a darkened roof and finally set Viperion back on his feet. He immediately doubled over, bracing himself against his knees as he gulped down some unsteady breaths. She took a step towards him, but when her hand landed on his shoulder he flinched away from her.
That hurt more than she’d ever thought it would.
“Viperion –” she started, but he sharply jerked his head in a fierce shake.
“Don’t,” he panted, groaning as he dropped to his knees. She hesitated, wanting to go to him but unwilling to make things worse. “I can’t…just…please, don’t.”
His fingers were bent on his knees. She imagined if she could see his hands – if the gloves of his suit weren’t covering them – they’d be white-knuckled.
“…can you fight?” she asked after a long, tense moment had passed. His breathing had steadied, and he had pushed himself up to tip his head back towards the dark sky. He was still kneeling before her, his eyes still closed, and he still seemed tense, but it wasn’t the same desperation of a few minutes before.
…she refused to look lower, between his legs, to see if that part of him was still…tense.
“I know she’s not real,” he said, his voice thick. “Damn it, Ladybug, I know she’s not real.”
“Ok,” Ladybug said, nodding. She swallowed and shifted on her feet, fiddling with her yoyo. “Good.”
“That doesn’t stop her…it from sounding or feeling real,” he said. He still wouldn’t look at her. Fuck it, she thought angrily as she knelt before him. She reached for his face again, tilting it towards her, and she frowned when she saw how tightly he’d screwed his mouth shut.
“Viperion…” she started, unsure, but the name didn’t feel right. Her heart twisted as she thought of his Fantasy. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Luka –”
His hands were immediately over hers, squeezing.
“Please stop,” he whispered – begged. Her heart twisted even more. It felt like a knife. If…if she was his fantasy, why did it feel like he didn’t actually want her? His hands slid from hers to her wrists and squeezed again. The breath he sucked in was ragged. “We…we have an akuma to stop.”
“You’re in no condition to go back out there,” she said, voice soft and scared. She didn’t know how to make this better. She didn’t…she had thought…
Luka was her friend. Probably her best friend, but…still just a friend. They had tried to be more, once – a series of unsuccessful, interrupted dates that Ladybug had always gotten in the way of – and the months that had followed their ‘breakup’ had been the worst of her life. Getting back to just friends had been hard, but he was invaluable to her. Even if she still loved him, still wanted him, nothing had changed. Being Ladybug and the Guardian still dominated her life. She couldn’t put him through that again. She couldn’t risk losing him again – and she knew, if they tried and once again failed, it would be a loss. There would be no coming back from the break next time. And besides, regardless of what she felt, he…she had thought he’d moved on. That he was no longer interested in…that he’d found someone more…
“Don’t you love me anymore?”
His fantasy – the deepest, darkest, most personal desire he had been so worried about her seeing – was starting to make her think otherwise.
“I’m not leaving you alone out there,” he grit out, finally opening his eyes to look at her. The intensity in his gaze made her heart twist again, but this time it wasn’t exactly in a bad way. “She’s not real. She’s not…you need…we can’t…”
“I just wanted to take care of you, like you always do me…”
Her thumb brushed beneath his eye, and she pulled him towards her to press their foreheads together. She closed her eyes and swallowed, taking a moment to just breathe him in.
…it would be too easy, she thought as she felt his warm breath on her face, to just…lean in. Close the distance. Kiss it all better – except she knew, somehow, that that would probably be even crueler right now. That…that would probably break him.
And she could never do that to him.
Not to Luka.
“I need you to be ok,” she finally said, the words nearly choking her. “That’s what I need. And you’re not ok, Luka.”
“I’m fine, Ladybug,” he said harshly, his grip tightening on her wrists. “Damn it, if you get hit –”
“Then I better purify that akuma before I get hit, right?” she quipped. She pulled back, but not before pressing a kiss against his forehead. She could give him that, at least – give herself that. And yet…she tried to ignore the way he tensed when her lips touched his skin. “Wait here. I don’t know how those things work – if it can find you here. Stay out of sight, and I’ll be back for you, ok?”
“Ladybug –!” he tried, but she glared at him.
“That’s an order, Luka!” she said. His mouth screwed shut again, and she placed her hand on his cheek. “Please. Keep yourself safe. I’ll…when I get back, we need to talk.”
He looked away from her, his pale lips pressed together so hard they were almost white. A tight jerk of his head – a sharp nod – was his only answer, and she sighed as she stood and walked to the edge of the roof. She spared one last look at him as she readied her yoyo – enough to find he had scooted back against the wall of the alcove, his legs pulled towards his chest and his face pressed into his knees – but then she was off, back to the fight.
She had a job to do.
And, once it was over…she needed answers.
– V –
Luka wasn’t sure how long it was before he saw the sweep of magical ladybugs flood the city. Ladybug was efficient, so he knew it couldn’t have been that long, despite it feeling like hours to his frazzled mind.
…every time he closed his eyes, he could see her. Pale, shapely legs disappearing beneath the hem of his shirt. Hair mussed from his hands running through it too many times. Hooded eyes, dark and wanting as she stared up at him. He could feel those deceptively delicate hands, firmly sliding over his suit – he could feel the echoes of his dream, one of those hands wrapping around his dick in a firm grip and stroking. He could hear her breathy giggles, the whining pleas.
Let me take care of you.
Our bed’s too cold without you.
Don’t you love me anymore?
And damn it all, he knew it wasn’t real. He knew Marinette would never actually say those things to him – they’d had their chance, and he’d blown it. He also knew she would tell him that wasn’t true, that it was just bad timing, because she was kind like that, but it didn’t change anything. He might not have realized why until later (he might have blamed it on Adrien, convincing himself she was actually in love with the model instead of him), but Ladybug had always come first. Paris had come first. And he was fine with that. He understood why. He had never held it against her, no matter how much he might wish she’d let him in more. So she had been Ladybug, and he…he had stepped back. Given her her space. Been there as best he could whenever she needed him (whenever she’d let him), but…he had let her go. He had continued to love her, but he had never pushed his feelings on her. Never asked for her to love him in return.
…and she had never sought more from him than friendship after their breakup, anyway, and didn’t that say everything he needed to know right there? Marinette – the real Marinette, not the fantasy that had lived rent-free in his head all these years – didn’t actually love him. Not like that. Not like he loved – wanted – her, even still.
And he was ok with that.
…most days.
Most days, when a sick, twisted mockery of his deepest, darkest desires wasn’t being thrown in his face. When he didn’t have to listen to a voice that was hers but also wasn’t whisper everything he’d ever wanted to hear from her in his ear. When he wasn’t being confronted with a physical manifestation of those desires after being so tightly wound up from dreaming about them.
…most days.
“Thank God,” Ladybug sighed, moments after landing on the roof with a soft thud. He looked up from his knees – he hadn’t moved from his spot against the wall, not since she’d left him there – to see her walking towards him. He had been so far in his own head he hadn’t even heard the warning zip of her incoming yoyo. She tried to smile at him, but the gesture wasn’t as easy as it usually was. She looked…uncomfortable, and he hated himself even more for doing that. For making things awkward with his stupid feelings. He ducked his face back against his knees and tried to ignore the voice in his head that told him he was about to lose her. “I was afraid you were going to do something stupid like ignore orders. I was worried you wouldn’t still be here.”
“…I’m not Chat,” he said, the words muffled. They still made her laugh, though, and that had him fighting a smile. “How is he, anyway?”
“I don’t care about him, Luka,” she said, a little sharply. “I’m more worried about you right now. Are you ok?”
“Never better,” he quipped, squeezing his elbows in an attempt to ground himself. “It’s not the first time I’ve been affected by an akuma, Ladybug. You should have seen me when Sandboy attacked.”
…actually, no, she shouldn’t have. He was pretty sure that would have been worse, if she had seen him cowering below decks as another mockery of her civilian self called him a hopeless, talentless hack, saying every cruel and nasty thing she could think of to undermine his faith in her, in himself. It hadn’t been his proudest moment.
He took a deep, steadying breath and tapped out a quick beat against his elbow.
“How is he?” he asked again, and this time she sighed.
“Upset I defeated the akuma, of course,” she said, clipping her yoyo back onto her hip. She folded her arms over her chest and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Also upset I wouldn’t pick up where his Fantasy Bug left off.”
He snorted, rolling his eyes.
“That sounds about right,” he said, chuckling weakly. An awkward silence began to stretch between them, and he took a steadying breath and tightened his grip on his elbows. Time to grovel and hope she didn’t ask too many questions, he supposed. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Ladybug. Were you…are you…you’re obviously fine. You defeated her, I mean. She didn’t get you.”
She wouldn’t be standing here, conscious, if she –
“Oh, no, she got me,” Ladybug said, sighing as she dropped to the roof beside him. His head jerked up, his eyes widening as he stared at her. She leaned back against the wall and kept her gaze on the roof before them, her lips quirking with a wry little smile that made his heart lurch. He couldn’t help but wonder what her fantasy had been. He wasn’t foolish enough to think it had been Adrien Agreste, knowing she had overcome that crush years ago, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to hope it had been him, either.
“…I’m so sorry,” he said, throat tight. “I should have been there. You were counting on me, and I…I couldn’t even…”
“It happens to all of us, Viperion,” she said, tipping sideways to lean her head on his shoulder. “Some of us more than others – didn’t you just say it’s not the first time you’ve been affected by an akuma? I’m not mad at you, and I don’t blame you. Besides, I was fine. Thankfully, I kept my wits about me.”
His lips quirked in a wry little smile. He glanced down at her and asked, “Is that so?”
“Yep,” she said, humming as she closed her eyes. The look on her face was wistful, as if she was reliving her fantasy in her head. Her boots tapped against the roof. “Though that pillow was awfully tempting…”
“…pillow?” he asked, blinking in surprise. Ladybug looked up at him and winked.
“You boys and your hormone-driven definition of fantasy,” she tutted. She closed her eyes again and settled back against him, and for a moment it was too easy to forget the awkwardness of the night. It was just them, Luka and Marinette, easy as they’d ever been. It was too easy to believe they might get past this with Them intact. “My most-desired fantasy, you silly snake, is a nap.”
That…was not what he had been expecting.
“A…a nap?” he asked, feeling a bit like the roof had disappeared from under him. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that all she had been tempted with was a nap. It was just so classically Marinette, and if he was honest it just made him love her a little bit more. She hummed, turning her head to tuck her face against his arm, and he stilled at the intimacy of the gesture. If she noticed, she didn’t react.
“Yep. A nap,” she said quietly, smiling. “Do you have any idea how exhausting my life is, Viperion? Ladybug barely has time to take care of Paris most days, let alone herself. Most days, the thing I want most in the world is a nice, long, uninterrupted nap.” She glanced up at him with a little smile that made his heart flip. “…ok. A napping buddy would be nice, too, but only if he doesn’t steal the blankets.”
He had to smile at that. He was reminded of the movie night before he’d left for his first tour, when she was exhausted from finals and Hawkmoth and really shouldn’t have forced herself to be there, but it was supposed to be the last time she would see him before he left for the summer and she’d insisted. She’d fallen asleep in his lap barely twenty minutes into the movie, and somehow by the end the blanket that had been covering both of them had ended up mostly around her.
“Somehow, Mlle. Bug, I think you’d end up being the blanket hog,” he said with a strangled, helpless little laugh. She nudged his arm with her shoulder, giggling.
“Well, now you know my secret,” she teased. He was still chuckling. She sighed and leaned back against him. “Seriously, Vi…Luka. I was fine. She literally got me right as I was grabbing the akumatized object. I barely had time to be distracted – no matter how tempting the distraction was.”
He flinched at that, and she sighed again before thumping her head against his shoulder, as if telling him to knock it off.
“…I still shouldn’t have left you like that,” he mumbled. She reached between them and pinched his hip, making him jump. He blinked startled eyes at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him.
“Stop it,” she said. “You didn’t leave me – I removed you from the situation. You were…how you were reacting to Mar…to your Fantasy, I couldn’t put you through that. I’m really not mad, Luka. I’m more worried than anything.”
“You shouldn’t worry about me, Ladybug,” he muttered. Her hand was suddenly on his elbow, and he swallowed before looking up at her.
“Of course I should, you silly snake,” she said. “You worry about me all the time. Every time I pull you in, I make it your job to worry about me. Let me return the favor, please?”
He pursed his lips and looked back out at the roof, his chin propped on his arms. She sighed and squeezed his elbow.
“Who…who was she, anyway?” she asked. He froze. “I didn’t think you were currently seeing anyone. I mean…not that I’m keeping tabs or anything, but you never mentioned…not that you need to mention, I mean. But, you know, as team leader I should have some idea, so I don’t show up in the middle of a date or…or…anything, you know – wow, that would be suuuuper awkward, just surprise! Your boyfriend’s Viperion! Please put your pants back on so we can go save Paris! Way to blow the secret –”
“…Ladybug,” he said, almost automatically. It was habit after all these years, the gentle misdirection to stop her spiraling. He tried to focus on that misdirection and not what she was asking, because honestly…it had been too long a night. He couldn’t play this game with her. Not tonight. Her mouth snapped shut, and she took a deep, steadying breath before looking back at him.
“…so? Who was she, Luka? Your…your girlfriend? An ex? Old crush?” she pressed. She looked nervous before continuing. “Cur…current crush? Sweet Dreams was supposed to give you a fantasy. The thing you want most. For your dream girl, you didn’t seem all that happy to see her.”
“I didn’t want that,” he said quickly, harshly. She sat up a bit straighter, no longer leaning on him, as she blinked at him in surprise.
“You…you didn’t?” she asked, sounding surprised. Her head tilted to the side, but he kept his gaze ahead, unwilling – maybe unable – to look at her just yet. “It’s just…you seemed to. Back…back there. Earlier. When she was…you know. You seemed to want it. Her.”
…he didn’t answer that. How could he? Of course he wanted her, but that thing – that mockery the akuma had created – wasn’t her. Didn’t she get that? And yet, even knowing that, it hadn’t stopped the thing from looking – sounding, feeling – like…
That had been the worst part.
Knowing it wasn’t her – that it would never be her – and still being tormented with the idea that…
“What do you want me to tell you, Ladybug?” he finally asked, swallowing thickly. He could feel her eyes on him, but he just clenched his jaw and continued staring at the roof. His hands flexed on his elbows, and he paused when he felt her hand squeeze over his. He had almost forgotten she was still touching him. And he…he couldn’t lie to her. He never could. “…she’s my entire world. She’s everything to me.”
“Luka…” she whispered, and he tried to jerk away from her as he turned his head. He couldn’t take her pity – not tonight.
“But no, she’s not my girlfriend. We’re not together, and we never will be – and that’s fine,” he spat, gripping his elbows a bit tighter. “I’m not what she wants, and I’m ok with that. I am.”
“Luka –” she started, a strange note in her voice, but he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want her pity.
“But yes, fine, she’s everything I want – everything I’ve ever wanted – but that wasn’t her, Ladybug, and having Hawkmoth use her against me like that…” he grit his teeth, his eyes screwing shut as he forced himself to take a few deep, steadying breaths. He tensed when he felt her hand on his cheek.
“You’re still human, Luka,” she whispered, her voice sounding as fragile as he felt. “You’re allowed to…you’re allowed to want things. You’re allowed to have fantasies about the girl you like. I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”
He wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t open his eyes. He tried to focus on his breathing, tried to calm down before Hawkmoth got it in his head to send another butterfly out that night. The last thing he wanted was to cause her even more trouble. He –
“I lied,” she said, making him freeze again. Her fingers tensed against his face. “I…my fantasy. What Sweet Dreams showed me. It wasn’t just a pillow.”
He turned his head slowly, his eyes open but his brow furrowed in confusion.
“I dream about the guy I like, too, Luka,” she said softly, her thumb stroking his tense jaw. The soft look in her eyes was almost enough to make him hope, and damn it all that just wasn’t fair. He swallowed thickly, his throat feeling like cotton.
He couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t play this game with her. Not tonight. Not after…
“…stop,” he said, tucking his face back against his arms. “I can’t…I can’t do this, Ladybug. Not tonight.”
“…do what?” she asked, too innocently for him to believe her. He groaned and thumped his forehead against his arms.
“Play that game where we pretend I don’t know what we both know I know,” he said. He peeked up at her, his eyes narrowed in a half-hearted glare. Her lips were pursed, her expression unreadable. After a long moment, she nodded.
“Ok,” she said, her voice steady. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And just when he thought she was going to let it go – that he might get of easy – she went and threw him for another loop. “Tikki, spots off.”
His throat went even drier as the pink glow washed over her. It was one thing to know. It was something else entirely to see. Her eyes were still hard when she opened them.
“Your turn, Luka,” she said, pulling her knees closer to her chest. The t-shirt she was wearing looked too big on her, which was reminding him of Things and not helping, but it was a dark color and not white. Not…not his. She nudged him, jostling him from his thoughts. “Rest those scales, you stupid snake.”
He wasn’t cognizant of saying the words, but he must have, because the next thing he knew a teal glow washed over him and Sass was floating in his periphery. His eyes were locked on Marinette, who had dropped her knees and turned towards him the moment he dropped his transformation. She was smiling at him, but he was more distracted by the fact that with her knees down he could see she actually was wearing a Jagged Stone shirt. The one he had sent her from the last tour, where his name was listed as the opening act under the list of dates on the back. His throat went dry again.
He’d never actually seen her wear the shirt. He hadn’t really known why he’d sent it to her, and she’d never mentioned it. To know that she apparently slept in it…
“So…” she started, reaching out to flick his knee. He blinked and looked up at her face, momentarily distracted by the teasing smile he found there. “Can we talk about how I’m apparently your dream girl now?”
The way she was smiling at him…the way she had scooted closer, leaning in like…damn it all, he couldn’t do this.
“There’s…there’s nothing to talk about, La…Marinette,” he said, his throat sticking on the words. Her smile slipped, and he took another shaky breath as he looked back out at the roof.
“I think there’s more to talk about than you think, Luka,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm, and somehow that was so much worse without his supersuit protecting him. He hadn’t even bothered grabbing a shirt before they left, and despite the chill of the night her skin felt like it was burning against his. “Like how I’m apparently everything you want – your entire world, I believe you just said – but you can’t even look me in the eye and tell me that.”
He clenched his jaw shut tighter and tried not to focus on the way her hand curled around his arm, squeezing.
“…would it make you feel better if I told you it’s the same?” she asked softly. He slowly turned his head back to her, and that uncertain, hopeful smile was still on her face. She reached up to touch his cheek again, her thumb brushing beneath his eye. “You silly, stupid boy. You’re my everything, too, you know. You always have been.”
“M…Marinette…” he whispered, and her smile softened.
“What were you dreaming about, Luka? The intense one when I came to get you? Was that it? Me?” she asked. Her thumb paused by the corner of his mouth. He swallowed, suddenly afraid to move. “Was that your fantasy? Me, barely dressed, trying to seduce you?”
His face was growing warmer, and her smile softened when she noticed the blush.
“…you’re allowed to have dirty dreams about me, Luka,” she said, her own cheeks turning a faint pink in the moonlight. “I…I like that you do. I have dirty dreams about you, you know.”
“…you’re killing me,” he finally said, shaking his head as a broken chuckle escaped him. When he looked back up at her, a helpless smile was on his face. “Are you sure you’re not the fantasy? Sweet Dreams isn’t still out there, and you just…tracked me down?”
“You wish,” she quipped with a snort, and yeah, he kind of did. Wasn’t that the point?
“You said your dirty…your fantasy was a nap,” he pointed out, shifting uncomfortably.
“I said I lied and it wasn’t just a pillow,” she said, winking at him. “A certain someone was also already sleeping on that pillow.” When his eyebrows rose, she shrugged. “You really have no idea how much I love our naps, do you?”
“…we don’t nap, Marinette,” he said quietly, and her smile turned bittersweet.
“Not as much anymore, no,” she said, tapping her thumb against the corner of his mouth. “Not since we grew up and got busy. Since you stopped coming to movie night. Why do you think I always fell asleep during the movie?”
…that was part of why he had stopped going. It was a special kind of torture, getting to spend those nights with her asleep on his lap as some movie played in the background. He’d never be able to tell you anything about what they were supposed to be watching, distracted as he was by the girl in his arms.
“I just thought you were tired,” he confessed, and she laughed.
“Well, yeah, but it was the only way I could get you to just hold me anymore,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s all I want, Luka. You. Us. But you…I didn’t think you did. Not…not anymore.”
She let him go and slumped back against the wall, sighing as she stared out across the roof. He suddenly felt so much colder without her leaning into him.
“Except now I find out you do, except…you don’t? Seriously. You were terrified back there, Luka,” she said, looking up at him. “Do I…do I really scare you that much?”
“…you’re not what scares me, Marinette,” he said. She tilted her head to the side, and he sighed as he shoved a hand through his hair. “Ok. You scare me a little.”
“That wasn’t a little,” she tutted, and he rolled his eyes as he leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the sky.
“Fine. You scare the absolute shit out of me,” he said. He glanced down at her, a wry grin on his lips. “Happy?”
“No,” she huffed, nudging her shoulder into his arm. “Because you don’t scare me.”
“Marinette,” he sighed, looking back up at the sky. “You’re…you’re you. Amazing. Incredible. Even without being Ladybug – and that’s a whole other kind of scared, worrying about what might happen to you when you’re in the suit. And yes, I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying,” he added, giving her a pointed look. Her mouth closed on the argument she clearly wanted to make, and he returned his gaze to the sky. “But you…what I feel for you. How much I feel for you. Yeah, that scares me. The idea that you’d know…”
“That I’d know what?” she asked, frowning. “That…that you still care about me? You didn’t want me to know?”
“Not like this,” he said. “I…Marinette. I honestly thought you had moved on. You never said…you never…you never let me in. Not fully. And I had resigned myself to just…being your friend. And I was fine with that, as long as I could still be in your life. But the thought that you’d find out…that I still care about you. That I…God. How was my fantasy any different than Chat’s? I thought you were gonna hate me. I thought I was gonna lose you. I can’t…I don’t want to lose you, Marinette.”
“Well, for one, you were dreaming about me, not Ladybug,” she tutted, scooting closer and leaning her head on his shoulder again. “That says a lot right there, you know.”
She glanced up at him, a teasing smile on her face.
“…even if you ultimately did want me to lock you two up in a shed together,” she teased. He kept staring at the stars he couldn’t really see, his jaw still tight, and missed the uncertainty that flickered over her expression. “You…was that all it was for you, Luka? Just…just someone to…to have a good time with?”
His head snapped down, his eyes popping open as he gawked at her.
“What?” he asked, his fingers digging into his elbows. “How…how can you possibly ask me that?”
“You’re the one who said you were no better than Chat,” she said, rolling her eyes. “All Chat wanted was to fuck Fantasy Bug, so what am I supposed to think? Maybe you just wanted to fuck Fantasynette, too.”
“Oh my God, Marinette, stop,” he groaned, shaking his head. “How can you…I just told you…fucking you is not my fantasy!”
She lifted an eyebrow at him, as if to challenge him, and he groaned as he slumped back against the wall.
“…it’s…it’s not just my fantasy,” he said, groaning when she scooted closer and giggled. Was she actively trying to kill him? “Marinette, please. I can’t…I can’t do this tonight.”
“Why not?” she asked, bumping their shoulders together. “We’re both adults. We might even be consenting adults. We can talk about fucking.”
Another strangled, choked sound escaped him. He thunked his head against the wall again. He was pretty sure he was going to give himself a concussion by the time this conversation was over.
“You…no, we really can’t,” he grumbled. With his eyes closed, he missed the way she rolled hers. He felt her shifting beside him, and when he glanced down at her she had folded her arms across her chest.
“I am an adult, Luka,” she huffed. “I can handle it.”
…God, he really didn’t need to think about her handling hi…it. The words were enough to make his dick twitch, reminding him he was still skating a very thin line with her tonight.
He just prayed his sleep pants were less revealing than his super suit.
“You’re barely an adult,” he finally choked out, not really sure if he was teasing and not really caring if he sounded maybe a little condescending.
“You’re barely older than me,” she sniffed, bumping him with her shoulder again. “We are adults, Luka. We can talk about sex. About fucking. I can even talk about your penis.”
She paused, the words seeming to catch up with her a second too late. She bit her lower lip and glanced up at him, her face red again, and asked, “How…how is it, anyway? Any better?”
“…it was until you asked about it,” he groaned, desperately trying to ignore how hard he still was. “Seriously, Marinette, you are not helping right now…”
“…I could,” she said, and he froze. What? “Help. If…if you need…if you want me to.”
He was staring at her – gawking, he was pretty sure – as she stared up at him through her lashes with a pretty blush dusted across her cheeks. He…he couldn’t…she couldn’t be…
“Do you want me to, Luka?” she asked, her teeth pressing into her lower lip and…God, she really was going to kill him. He was pretty sure he was already dead.
“Are…are you sure you’re not Fantasynette?” he choked out, his voice dry. A shy, hesitant smile curled her lips, and then her hand was on his knee. “M…Mari…”
“What was your fantasy, Luka? If it wasn’t just fucking me?” she asked, her voice low and soft. He shook his head slowly, in a daze, and she frowned as she squeezed his knee. He sucked in a breath, feeling a little like he couldn’t breathe. “Luka. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere – not anymore. Talk to me.”
He was so afraid to.
He was so afraid of wrecking things – of wrecking them.
Couldn’t she see that?
Couldn’t she see how empty his life was going to be when she inevitably walked away?
He couldn’t have her.
Paris always came first.
He couldn’t make her choose – he never would, but it would be a choice. To her. She had never let herself believe she could be both Marinette and Ladybug. That she actually could have everything she wanted. That she could have…
“…you, Mari,” he finally whispered, the words pulled from him by the soft, hopeful look in her eyes. By the way she looked at him like…the way she was still touching him, still leaning close, still…still.
He was so tired.
He was so tired of lying to her, of pretending he didn’t want more. Of acting like he was fine constantly being kept at arm’s length.
“…it was the only way I could get you to just hold me anymore. It’s all I want, Luka. You. Us. But you…I didn’t think you did. Not anymore.”
…but maybe she hadn’t been the only one keeping someone at arm’s length all this time.
“…me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He bent his head, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead on hers. Her face felt so warm, despite the chilly night.
“You,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Yes, I want to…God, yes. I want to fuck you, Mari. But I don’t want it to be a one-off thing. I don’t want to just fuck you.”
“…if you’re about to say you want to make love to me…” she giggled, and a helpless chuckle escaped him.
“Would that be so bad, if I did?” he asked, and she hummed softly in reply. His hand had moved to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing along her cheek absently. “I want all of you, Marinette. The girl in and out of the mask. I want to be there to support you, to take care of you. I want to share a lifetime with you – marriage, kids, the whole thing. I want all of you. I want you to want all of me. That’s my fantasy, Marinette. Us.”
Her breath had caught in her throat at some point, and when he opened his eyes…hers looked glassy, even in the low light. It took her a moment to compose herself, and when she finally spoke her words were choked.
“Luka…you absolute fucking idiot,” she said, laughing wetly as she shook her head. “You…you better be planning on kissing me, after a confession like that.”
“…really?” he asked, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m gonna kiss you if you don’t,” she said, and he had to laugh. She didn’t have to tell him twice.
And it was a perfect kiss – so much better than any fantasy he ever could have dreamed up. Her lips were soft and warm beneath his own, if slightly chapped from fighting in the cold all night – but even that was better, because it meant she was real. The sounds she made when he bent her back and deepened the kiss were real. The way she arched into him, the way she slumped back against the wall and hooked a leg over his, her knee brushing his side…it was all so wonderfully, beautifully real. And she terrified him, yeah, but he wasn’t afraid to chase after a second kiss, or a third, until they were almost lying on the floor of the roof, his hands under her shirt and holding her close while that leg around his hip tried to pull him closer.
He could spend the rest of his life kissing her, he thought drunkenly as her tongue slid along his. He could hardly believe that might actually be an option. He felt so very far removed from the doubt and hopelessness of just a few hours ago.
He wasn’t complaining, though.
“…so,” she laughed, a little breathlessly, when he finally pulled away. “A-about that fantasy…the one Sweet Dreams showed you. And your…penis problem.”
“Marinette,” he laughed, the sound a little crazed – but no more crazed than her answering giggle.
“Seriously,” she said, looking up at him with her perfect kiss-bruised lip between her teeth again. She shifted beneath him, the leg trapped between his bending to nudge against the erection he was pretty sure wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. “Can…can I help you with that?”
“…you don’t have to,” he said, his voice a little strangled. “I’ll be fine, Mari.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him and glanced down. He rolled his eyes and kissed her again.
“Once you’re back home and I stop kissing you,” he said. “It’ll go away. I hope.”
“What if I want to help you?” she huffed Her cheeks were tinting again. “…make it go away faster, I mean.”
He swallowed thickly. He just…he couldn’t believe this girl.
“I…I would be ok with that,” he confessed, nodding slowly. “If you want. And only if you want.”
“You’re allowed to want me, Luka,” she said, huffing as she tugged him back to her. “You don’t have to be such a gentleman all the time. And yes, I think I’d really like to help.”
“Ok, ok,” he laughed, shaking his head. His smile was soft as he rubbed their noses together. “But only if we can go back to my place first. It’s a hell of a lot warmer there.”
“Not according to Fantasynette,” she giggled, grinning at him. “You let the bed get cold, baby.”
She squealed as he pushed away and scooped her up, back on his feet a moment later. She only flailed a little, and she laughed when he called for his transformation, the teal flash momentarily blinding her.
“Then let’s go warm it back up,” he said, grinning down at her. His eyes flashed, and Marinette wasn’t sure if that was kwami magic or if she was just imagining it. He dipped his head to kiss her one more time, slowly. “If…if that’s ok with you.”
“Stop asking me that like you’re afraid I’m going to run away,” she huffed, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling into his chest. “Take me home, Couffaine. I’ll show you how much running I’m prepared to do.”
He laughed and took a running leap to the next roof. He couldn’t wait.
– V –
Luka started awake, panting as his eyes shot open and stared blindly at the curtain covering his balcony door. At the car lights passing by on the street below, briefly illuminating the fabric before moving on. His arms tightened around…a horn sounded on the street below, and he swallowed thickly. His throat was too dry – swallowing almost hurt. He blinked slowly, coming back to himself, as another car honked somewhere in the city outside.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.
Deep breath in.
Slow breath out.
His arms tightened around the pillow he was holding, hugging it tighter to his chest, but that only made him pause.
He had thought…
He opened his eyes again and pushed himself up on an elbow, dropping the pillow to his…empty bed.
It…it had been a dream.
It had all been one crazy, fucked up, horrible, wonderful dream.
He slumped back on the bed with a groan, turning his face to press it into the pillow. No wonder he had woken in a panic, filled with the feeling of a Second Chance gone wrong. Had there even been an akuma that night? Had…
God, he would have sworn…
He needed to talk to Marinette.
…no, he needed to talk to Penny. See if she could get him some out of town shows lined up. He couldn’t…he couldn’t make his feelings Marinette’s problem, and that was clearly the direction he was heading, having dreams like that. He couldn’t talk to her about this, not when she still had a city to protect. Probably not ever, really, because she…she didn’t…he couldn’t do that to her. His inability to get the hell over her was not her problem. Penny had been wanting him to get out and promote his upcoming EP, anyway. It would…
“Luka?”
He froze at the soft voice.
He turned his head slowly, his eyes widening as he saw the tiny kwami sitting on the pillow beside him. It wasn’t his kwami, though. This one was red, and spotted, and…
“T-Tikki…?” he asked, his voice choked as Ladybug’s – Marinette’s – kwami giggled at him. She floated up to his face and reached out a flipper, brushing it along his cheek. “Wh-what…?”
“Breathe, ssssnakelet,” a more familiar voice hissed above him, and his breath caught as a familiar weight settled on his head. His kwami tugged at his hair, a gentle reminder. “That is not breathing.”
“Sorry,” he choked, shaking his head slightly. “I just…I…”
“It’s ok, Luka,” Tikki said, giggling lightly. “Marinette freaked out when she woke up, too.”
…Marinette?
He pushed himself up and twisted, ignoring the startled hiss and tug on his hair. His eyes scanned the room, still too dark to really call it morning yet, until his eyes landed on his closed door and the strip of light beneath. On the muffled voice coming from the other side.
He scrambled out of bed and towards that light, missing the fond, exasperated look the kwamis shared as he tripped over clothes that had been left on the floor the night before.
The living room felt too bright after the darkness of his room, and he squinted against it, reaching up to rub at his eyes.
He could still hear her, though.
“…know, Papa,” she sighed, her voice weary but soft. She sounded like she was in the middle of an argument and was trying not to be too loud about it. Like she didn’t want to wake him. “I should have left a note, but I honestly didn’t think you guys would be home yet – you still had another two days on your trip. I understand Mama got sick and you had to leave early. Yes, I understand your poor heart can’t take finding an empty room with no note. I…Papa, I’m nineteen years old!”
He lowered his hand just as she spun, and she paused when she saw him. A slow, stupid smile curled her lips – which was perfectly fine, because he was pretty sure it matched the stupid smile he knew he had to be wearing, too, because Marinette was standing in his living room, wearing nothing but a shirt while she argued with her dad on the phone.
It…it hadn’t been a dream.
It…she…they had actually happened. It wasn’t just some lust-driven dream sent to torment him in middle of the night. Some empty fantasy.
It was real.
“Which means I’m an adult and allowed to spend the night at a friend’s,” she huffed, her tone at odds with the expression on her face as her eyes lazily trailed over him. “And I leave you a note because I love you and do worry about your poor heart. But this was an honest mistake, and…yes, Papa, I’ll be home later. Yes, Papa, I understand…Papa!” She rolled her eyes, her cheeks dusting pink, and he chuckled as she hung up. She glanced at him, still smiling, and rolled her eyes. “Papa says hello. Hopes we were safe.”
He choked on…something, nothing really – probably his spit – and she giggled as she turned to head towards his kitchen. He followed after her, numbly, shaking his head. He was a little distracted by the extra swish she put in her walk, the almost teasing motion of her hips. And looking at her hips, it was too easy to notice the way the white shirt she was wearing – that was entirely too big for her – brushed along her thighs. He slumped against the counter, craning his neck to get a better look at the way that shirt hiked up when she reached for a cup.
Once the cup was filled with water and she turned to face him, he almost choked again.
Because he had noticed that she was just wearing a shirt, but he hadn’t fully paid attention to the fact that it was his old Jagged Stone shirt – the one he had left on the floor the day before. After his run.
The one she had worn in his dream earlier, that she now…
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she giggled, handing him the cup. He shook his head and smiled, taking it from her and sipping slowly.
“Or a fantasy,” he murmured, and her brow furrowed as she looked down. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was wearing, and when her head snapped back up her blush was darker.
“It…my phone was ringing, and I didn’t want to wake you, and I just grabbed…I didn’t think you’d mind, and…oh, shut up, Luka! At least I got dressed!” she huffed, turning away from him as he moved around the counter, laughing. He glanced down at himself, conceding the point – he had been a little too distracted to bother finding clothes before coming out here. She squeaked when his arms wrapped around her middle, tugging her against him. She glanced up at him shyly, her cheeks still red – and wasn’t that something, considering all she had instigated not that long ago? She had absolutely no reason to be shy around him, not anymore. “…sorry. My parents came home early, and Papa was worried when I wasn’t there. And after…everything last night, I really didn’t want to wake you. You looked…you looked like you needed the sleep.”
“Bed was too cold without you,” he said, bending down to kiss her slowly. If there was an extra hint of desperation in it, neither commented – if anything, Marinette gripped his shoulder and pulled him closer. His grip tightened on her hips, bunching the fabric under his hands. “And I never mind. Please, continue wearing my clothes. They look so much better on you.”
“Dork,” she giggled. Her fingers tapped against the back of his neck, and she bit her lip as she leaned into him. “It’s still ridiculously early. And somebody kind of wore me out last night.”
“…hey, don’t blame me,” he chuckled, kissing her neck. “Not that I’m complaining, but I was ok just going back to bed. You were the one who insisted on…helping.”
“Like I could sleep with how you were poking me,” she huffed, and he choked on a laugh as she tensed in his arms. “I-I mean…stoooooop!”
“I can poke you again,” he chuckled, still kissing her neck. He shifted his hips, bumping against her and showing her just how ready he was to start poking again. She bit her lip, holding back a whining little noise he just wanted to hear more of – one that turned into a perfect little moan when he kissed her, bending her back against the counter as he teased her mouth open. “Marinette…”
“Still…still think I’m just a fantasy?” she asked, breathless and giggling as his hands slipped under her shirt. She squirmed when his hands found her bare ass, a happy little hum leaving him as he shamelessly groped her, tugging her against him. “L-Lu…”
“No,” he murmured, smiling as he returned to her mouth for another kiss. His grin was probably stupid again as he looked down at her with shining eyes. She smiled back, a bit of the shyness gone as her hand fisted over his heart. “You’re not a fantasy, Marinette.”
He kissed her again, slowly, languorously, enough to draw another one of those delicious little moans out of her. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as he just…basked in her presence. The reality that she was there, warm and soft and real beneath him. No fantasy had ever felt that good, he thought as her hands slipped into his hair.
“You’re so much better.”