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Meet me in the Middle

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Adrien Agreste had fallen for Ladybug when he was just fourteen years old. He would always remember the exact moment it had happened. They were faced with the scariest and biggest threat Paris had ever known. And then, the unsure and timid looking girl he just met squared her shoulders and willingly stood up against the biggest evil they would ever meet.

He spent all his adolescence trying and mostly failing to catch her attention. She was friendly, trustworthy, but elusive. Seemingly enamoured with someone he could never aspire to be.

He was able to watch the girl turn into a young woman, who never ceased to shine brighter than any star. Courageous and caring, determined and responsible. And of course, so beautiful. Ladybug was a hero worth all the attention she received. He’d been helpless to resist his heart pulling him towards the spotted heroine.

But life got in the way. There were battles to be won, decisions to be made. And in the end that same love that burned like a raging fire had simmered into a low steady unwavering flame. Adrien had come to the conclusion that Ladybug might be his soulmate. But not every soulmate had to be a romantic one. And so, he accepted her friendship without question, resolved to be the best friend and partner he could be.

Life pulled him apart from her, hours away into a new and unknown country. It was then that he realized that he did have the courage to rebel. To fight and find his own path. If Chat Noir could defeat Hawkmoth, Adrien Agreste could decide his own future!

He left the comforts of home. It was a bitter fight, and it seemed that bonds were broken forever. But it was the only way he could do it… for now. As long as he lived under the name Agreste, his life would be meticulously planned for him. Adrien just couldn’t live like that anymore.

Thankfully, all that money he earned modelling as a teen was saved into an untouchable bank account. It was a substantial amount, and it helped him as he waded the waters of independence. And with the help of a maternal agent, Adrien found a way to thrive. And even better, after months away from Paris, he found his way back to his soulmate.

His life was simple. He was well on his way to becoming a physics professor. Modelling jobs were short and sporadic, and they helped pad his bank account. He was never forced to take any job, and for that, he was immensely grateful.

Love could wait. He was a romantic at heart and he knew that when he fell in love, it would be completely. He wasn’t in a hurry, and not because of lack of offers. Adrien knew he was a good catch. Good looking, with a decent economic situation… he had no small amount of offers. But he knew that nothing could compare to the torch he held for Ladybug. He knew whoever he could fall in love with would also be a formidable figure, and he wasn't about to rush into that. He had time. He could wait.

And then, just when he thought he had everything worked out. He ran into Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Seeing her again had been a pleasant surprise. He'd been fond of his timid classmate. But actually getting to know her was like a sucker punch he hadn’t expected.

She was courageous and fiercely determined. He already knew Marinette was talented and hardworking. He'd seen that when they were younger. But being on the show, spending time so close to her, gave him a chance get to know her in a way he'd never been able before.

Marinette wasn't shy. She was a force to be reckoned with. Strong and fierce. She knew what she wanted and would work hard to get there. It didn't surprise him to see her in the show. He'd been well aware that her aspirations laid with fashion design.

But there was something else about seeing her in her element. Eyebrows furrowed as she created a design, the serious look on her face as she picked fabrics when they shopped... It was mesmerizing. There was passion in what she did, she embodied it perfectly, and it had taken his breath away.

Of course he'd followed the show almost religiously. He saw the screen captures, the gifs, the edits. There were even Fan videos of the both of them, for crying out loud! But one thing became evident, even Adrien wasn't that oblivious. Marinette was beautiful, without any doubt or question. Big blue eyes, full pink lips, and soft skin dusted with freckles. Strong arms, and a behind that looked absolutely stunning when she wore leggings.

But even more than that. Her personality, it was amazing. A lovely mixture of sweetness and spice... she'd taken the public - and him - in the palm of her hand. And she didn't even know it.

Adrien had been helpless to resist the pull of his feelings for her, and that was even before he knew she was Ladybug. Once those two girls merged into one... he knew he was a goner. It was fate. As if the gods had decided to get everything he could ever wish for in a woman and merge it all into Marinette.

After they found out their secret identities,he couldn't keep away from her. How could he even try? Marinette was his partner, his friend. Seeing her struggle and not being able to do anything about it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

But they were okay. Thanks to an unlikely ally, Raoul, they were able to talk things through. They were okay.

It was why he didn’t even think twice about going to her, to spend hours texting. Because he craved her company, he wanted to see her laugh at his stupid jokes, even if it was from a distance. If it hadn’t been so risky. If she hadn't had a roommate, he would have dropped right on that balcony for a kiss. Just like he’d meant to do for so long.

He had always been a romantic; he believed in fate, in ‘they lived happily ever after’ . And knowing that she reciprocated his feelings, even if he didn't know to what extent. It was more of a thrill than running over rooftops at neck breaking speeds.

He wasn’t surprised at all, that just after that first kiss, Marinette Dupain-Cheng consumed every little bit of his heart. He was hers, he'd always been. The warmth of her lips against his had just sealed it. It was a nice kiss, of course; if a little clumsy and surprising, but he wasn’t complaining at all.

It was fast and over before he could properly process what had just happened. By the time Marinette had let him go, her skin was flushed as the actual realization of what she'd done hit her. She’d pulled away bashfully, but the look in her eyes promised it wouldn’t be the last.

The second, he saw coming. She was laughing, exhilarated after finishing her show. He could hear the crowd still cheering her and Marinette vibrated with the energy, almost bouncing as she went to him. Her smile was wide and she'd jumped into his arms and kissed him, and this time it was perfect.

She'd laughed and he'd laughed. And it was so silly and so perfect that he would have stayed like that for hours. Her body flush against his as she kissed him over and over again. Soon, she started smiling less, her blue eyes darkening as their proximity began feeling like more. He’d half a mind to push her against the wall and keep at it. But the room was filled with people and there were cameras. It was not the best place to start a full on makeout session.

They'd stayed together after that. Just around each other as they were carted off towards the studio. The judges would have to make their decision and then, everything would be over. They'd go back to their normal lives... or as normal as it could be after an experience like this.

And then, the deliberation was over. Raoul was the winner of the first season of Project Runway and Marinette was the runner up. She'd lost.

He was disappointed too. The minute she stepped back into the waiting room, her eyes were glimmering with frustrated tears, his heart broke for her. Tom and Sabine went to her first and he dutifully waited for his turn. He knew she’d wanted this for so long, and to be so close… it had to be heartbreaking.

But Raoul had won, and even in her disappointment, Marinette’s joy for her friend was real and honest.


Back at the studio, everything is dying down. The host and judges have left the premises, and were probably getting ready for one of the many after parties in Paris. Fashion week was serious business. It was gonna be the event of the year, that was for sure.

Adrien holds Marinette as they make small chatter with her parents. Sabine speaks first. "I'm sure there are more exciting things than just talking to us here." She smiles and motions at them. "Go! You're young, have fun!"

As if on cue, "After party at Le Raspoutine!" Camille holds up her tablet as she taps some more information in. "I have you both on the list, remember. Dress sharp!" Camille walks away but turns swiftly on her heel. "Do you have transportation? If not, I need to arrange a car for you."

Sabine gives them a knowing look. "Go party. You both deserve to unwind."

"Be careful, and be home for saturday dinner. I need to get to know this young man."

Adrien gulps. Despite everything, Tom is an imposing man. He could definitely hurt him if he so desired.

Marinette is unphased. "Papa! Behave!"

Tom laughs and holds his hands up. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" he says, his smile warm as he regards Adrien. "I meant the dinner though. I'd love to meet the man who finally stole my little girl's heart."


Adrien's smile broadens as the Dupain-Chengs finally take their leave. He barely just met them and he already feels a part of the family. It's a novel feeling and it makes him smile even more.

He's distracted when Marinette asks him. "Do you want to go to the Party?" It's been a long day and no one could blame them if they skipped it.

"Do you?" he asks in return. He wouldn't blame her if she skips it. It's been a long day, filled with emotions. He's curious about the party, but he also wants to just relax and unwind.

She bites her lower lip, pondering for a second. "I want to congratulate Raoul without cameras," she tells him and turns to Camille. "We'll take the car. From the hotel?"

"Got it." Camille saluted at the duo. "They'll call you when they're out. Have fun!" Camille mixes in with the rest of the crew and disappears from view. There's a lot of work to be done, disassembling the stage to ensure everything goes back to normal.

“What's the plan then?" he asks. He's still wearing the suit Marinette made, and while it fits him just right, he knows it's not the most appropriate outfit for the club. Neither is his simple jeans and shirt he wore when he arrived at the studio. Raspoutine will be crawling with photographers and celebrities dressed to the nines. Camille hadn't been joking when she told them to dress sharp. "I'll probably need to go change."

“Mhmm.” She bites her lower lip, blue eyes thoughtful as she ponders her next plan of action. “I’ll just need to go back to the hotel and change. I need a shower too.”

That settles it. “I’ll go change and wait for you at the lobby,” he tells her, smiling when she nods. "I'll see you later." He kisses her briefly, just a mere brush of lips because it seems like he can.  And then he leaves.


Production had given Marinette a car to attend the after party. The black town car reminds him of his earlier life. Unneeded limousines and over the top luxuries. But then again, Fashion Week was all about glitz glamour. But one look at Marinette and he forgets all about that. She deserves the luxury.

Marinette wears dark red heels, which make her shapely legs look longer than ever, and a closed trench coat covering her outfit.  The coat seems light, barely enough to ward off the chill of the night but it cinches at her waist and he's curious about what's underneath. She holds a clutch purse in her hand, and he knows both Tikki and Plagg are comfortably nesting inside of it. "I'm ready!" she says when she sees him, her ruby red lips broadening in a smile.

"My lady." He offers his arm to her, smile bright as hers as he leads her onto the awaiting car.

Marinette looks out the window, and her hand brushes against his on the arm rest. But soon enough, the car stops outside of Le Raspoutine, the venue for the party. He can see just how many people gathered outside. Either for a chance to beg their way into the exclusive party or just to snap a picture with their prefered celebrities.

“Are you ready?” he asks, hand on the door handle ready to open.

She nods, apparently too nervous to say anything else, and Adrien opens the door. The attention shifts immediately towards them, as people try to see into the car. Photographers ready their cameras, ready to start clicking should they be deemed interesting enough. He steps out and the cameras begin snapping right away.

The flashes of light are almost second nature to him so he pays them no mind. Adrien’s been in the public eye since he was a teenager, after all. He hold his hand out to Marinette and helps her out of the car, and the pictures only increase.

"Marinette! Adrien! Over here!" The photographers shout and Marinette's hand tightens its hold on his.

“Oh wow,” she mutters, as camera flashes in their directions. They need to get that perfect shot, and they're not shy about asking for a better angle for their pictures. She freezes for a second, and Adrien places a hand on the small of her back to start leading her through the craziness.

Adrien is used to this nonsense. She’s not. The show had succeeded in keeping her hidden and well protected while they filmed.  After all, secrecy was important for their ratings. But the show is over, and that meant that it was open season for Marinette. Whether she liked it or not, Marinette was one of the newest faces in show business. There would be flashes of cameras and requests for interviews.

“Come on,” he whispers into her ear and he can see how the flashes increase as they attempt to snap the intimate gesture. His hand is firm against her waist, he tugs her along and they make their way through. They pose for pictures, of course, it’s what they have to do in situations like these. After the first few pictures Marinette relaxes. He can see it in her smile and in the way she leans closer to him. They only stay for a few seconds and are quickly waved into the Club.

Adrien has never set foot inside this club, but he knows its reputation. It’s one of the most exclusive hotspots in Paris. The kind of place where the bouncers would hand pick whoever got to enter the exclusive venue. And tonight, they were among the chosen ones.

Once inside, he realizes just why it is so exclusive. The former russian restaurant had morphed into a luxurious nightclub. The decoration is russian inspired with over the top glamour. The architecture is grandiose. Stained-glass panels, rich wooden ceilings and red velvet surrounding them from walls to floor. It is definitely impressive.

They pose for the official pictures and after going through the motions they’re finally left to their own decides.

“This is… insane!" Marinette exclaims, still holding on to Adrien’s arm as they finally enter the main area. It’s already packed with people. Some minor celebrities, but he can see some hollywood actors already settled at some of the VIP booths.

He agrees. It’s a bit over the top even by his standards. Then again, his father never let him attend these kinds of parties. “Let’s check our jackets.” They follow another attendant towards the coat check room. He slips off his leather jacket, leaving him in just a button dress shirt and dress pants. Marinette does the same, unwrapping her coat from her body and Adrien can finally see just what’s she wearing tonight.

It was at that precise moment that Adrien realized he was fucked.

He knows Marinette’s fashion style is on point. He’s familiar with several dresses she’d made. After all, he saw her model several of the dresses she made for her own collection in the comfort of her room. But the strapless little number he sees once she checks in the jacket is dangerous. It's enough to raise his blood pressure to considerable numbers. The dress reaches just an inch below her knee, playing at a hint of demure charm. But the slit on the skirt inches dangerously up her thigh and it gives him ideas. Her shoulders and collarbones, gloriously exposed, save from that… oh God, was that a tiny golden bell dangling from her neck? It’s just the final nail on his coffin.

“You look good,” he finally stammers out. It’s an understatement.

Her smile is coy. “Thank you. I made it.”

She made it but had kept it a secret during all of his visits. He feels the need to comment on this, but the glint in her eyes is dangerous and proud. Adrien realizes once more. Yup. He’s fucked .

He’s saved, by the arrival of Raoul and his two partners, Charlie and Mar.

Charlie is a vivacious brunette who's looking taller than both her boyfriend in sky high heels. She wraps her arms around them, a bright smile on her face as she approaches them. Mar is slightly shorter than Raoul, with tan skin and dark hair. He's quieter, but his when he smiles it's absolutely blinding.  

They were incredibly good looking. Adrien can’t help but wonder what are the odds of three people that hot ever finding each other and falling so perfectly in love.

“You’re here!” Raoul greets them both with a hug, clearly still riding the high of his win. Seconds later, Charlie and Mar approach them. Adrien's seen them at the studio, but with the hectic running around they'd yet to be formally introduced.

Raoul seems set on fixing that. “Alright! Oficial greeting time. Mar, Charlie, this is Marinette, the little lady and her man, Adrien." Raoul pointedly ignores Marinette’s flustered expression and continues. “ Lovebirds, this is Marcelo and my beautiful lady Charlotte. Or, you know. Charlie and Mar.” Raoul takes special care to roll his R's properly as he says their full names.

"Nice to meet you!" Mar says, and greets both of them with an enthusiastic hug.

"Finally!" Charlie grins at at Marinette. "I've heard so much about you! It's like I know you already!"

It’s obvious that neither Mar nor Charlie were from France, judging by their accents. Charlie punches Raoul softly on his arm, and he only gives her a loving look. Mar seems quieter and just watches their interaction with endearing amusement.

“Your collection was brilliant! I loved that purple dress so muuch!" Charlie tells Marinette, squeezing the young designer's hand, "You're so great-" Charlie pauses, taking a second to appreciate the dress Marinette has on now. "And, god damn , you look smoking hot. You have to get that dress on a store. It'd fly off the racks!”

Adrien agrees wholeheartedly. Marinette just blushes.

“You’re very talented,” Mar agrees, flashing a charming smile at both Adrien and Marinette. “It's nice to finally meet you both!”

“Did you guys settle in Paris already?” Marinette asks, and Charlie nods.

“Kind of?” Charlie flashes a sheepish grin at Raoul, who rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “We need to get settled in, but all our stuff is finally here.”

“I’ll invite you guys over when it finally looks like a home,” Raoul deadpans. He waves his hands in mock despair. “No one does anything unless I’m there!” Raoul complains, rolling his eyes at his supposed misery. Adrien smiles, because even without knowing the other two, or even Raoul that well, he can see the love radiating from Raoul. He's happy.

Amor . We should get some drinks. You guys want something?” Raoul asks the group and after a few seconds, he and Mar turn away to head on on their new mission.

Charlie calls out to them, begging for a particular kind of drink, before turning her attention to Marinette. “Babe,” Charlie speaks to Marinette, who seems surprised at the over familiarity but says nothing. Charlie’s good natured, a bit brash, perhaps, but in a nice way. It's easy to feel at ease with her. “You need an agent. Someone who’ll field interviews for you.”

“I don’t think so…” Marinette chuckles, dismissing the comment as a joke. But the look on Charlie's face is dead serious. “I don’t think I’ll need one?”

“Oh trust me, your phone will start ringing soon enough. You’ll need someone who’ll book your interviews, TV appearances, all that.” Charlie nods towards Adrien. “I bet he has one.”

Marinette turns to him, questioning apparent in her eyes. Adrien nods in agreement with Charlie. “I have a agent. She screens the offers, and sends me the ones she knows I’m more likely to take. I review them and if I like them, I sign on.” It was how he got on Project Runway, after all.

“Oh.” She looks overwhelmed for a second. It was clear that the thought had never occurred to her.

“It’s a good thing. You gave your career a great jumpstart,” Charlie says. “I’ll tell Ro to give you a list of people. Trust me, I have done research!”

Adrien slips his hand on her waist, tugging her softly to his side. “You don’t have to worry about that now.”

“Oh yeah, Sorry!" Charlie's smile is sheepish, but she reaches for Marinette’s hand. “We should totally get together to talk. We live in Paris now, it'll be fun!"

“Here comes the alcohol.” Raoul and Mar pass some glasses to everyone. “I didn’t know what to get, so everyone gets vodka.”

Adrien takes his glass, the clear liquid swirling in his glass. “Thanks!” he says. The group hold their glass up.

“Salute!” Raoul says, “To a great friendship!”

They down their drink quickly. The alcohol burns down his throat, but it's a welcome warmth which spreads through his limbs. He feels more relaxed already.

Charlie seems restless. “Babes. I want to dance!” And with that, Raoul disappears with both Mar and Charlie into the dance floor, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone.

The club is full, and the music is blaring loudly as they wait for the first DJ to take his spin. “I think your phone buzzed,” he says, after feeling the vibration coming from her clutch by his leg. It was either that, or it meant that Plagg and Tikki were up to no good. In any case, it’s worth checking out.

“Oh!” Marinette takes the phone out, thoughtfully scanning over the email on her screen. Suddenly, she gasps and reads again, brow furrowed in concentration “Is… is this legit?” She holds up the screen to Adrien.

He scans over the email. It’s from an agent, about commissioning a dress for a prestigious award ceremony. He glances at the email address. “Legit,” he says, scrolling past the rest of the email. “That domain is an agency in LA. My agent does deals with them from time to time.”

Marinette's eyes widen almost to a comical degree. “I think I’m going to faint.”

It’s a joke, he knows it. But he places his hand on her waist and she leans into him all the same. “I’ve got you.”

Her smile is bashful and he can’t help but reciprocate. “Thank you,” she says and laces his finger with hers. All of a sudden, the music gets almost unbearably loud. The DJ started his set.

Marinette steps near his ear to speak, “We should get away from the speakers!”

He nods in agreement and takes her hand. They walk through the crowd, passing by models and actors and people with a bigger net worth than what his father probably had. The music's loud and it's almost uncomfortable, so he motions to Marinette. It takes a few minutes of walking, maneuvering through the crowd, but they find a small nook by a high table.

The music is still too loud for them to talk, but they can try.

He leans in, to ask Marinette if she wants to find a place with seats. But then someone bumps into him, and Adrien loses his balance. He would have crashed into Marinette, possibly dumping his drink all over that pretty dress. But he manages to brace himself against the wall behind her. So he doesn't trip, Marinette seems okay, but the rest of drink is gone, spilling on the  ground.

“You okay?” he says, but he’s almost sure she can’t hear him. How could she? The music is insanely loud and Adrien can feel the bass thrumming through his chest. And this was after they moved away from the speakers.

She nods and bites her lower lip, white teeth pressing against ruby red lips. His eyes are drawn to the motion. He doesn’t miss the way she's standing up to full height. She’s not hiding from him. Sure, Marinette’s still shorter than he is, even with the heels she has on for tonight. But the added inches her shoes give her bring her at just the perfect height. He just has to lean in and he could kiss her.

Her eyes are opened wide, expectant. She's gauging his expression as well, trying to figure out whether he'll initiate this time. And so, he finally makes the decision.

Their kiss is soft, barely a brush of lips. It has none of the urgency of the kisses before. There is no nervous laughter, no need to hide from cameras. Still, he feels a surge of energy that spreads through his whole body.

There’s just electricity between them and a feeling of inevitability. He pulls apart to make sure she’s okay with this, but her hand is on his jaw and she pulls him in again. His Lady has always been more determined than he is.

That doesn't mean he shies away. His hand cup the side of her face and he feels her melt against him. Marinette's hands move to his neck and one finger traces idle patterns against the nape of his neck.

He feels goosebumps as her cool fingers leave a heated trail against his skin. She nips at his lower lip and he feels a rumble in the middle of his chest. “Mari,” he groans. He knows she can’t hear him, but she seems to understand and it’s enough for now, and her lips meet his again.

He’s under her spell now. Her lips part for him to explore and soon his tongue passes over hers and their kiss deepens even more. He feels her moan, a soft vibration against his lips that he just drinks in as he presses himself closer. His body presses her completely against the wall. She tastes sweet, cherries and a hint of vodka and it’s even more intoxicating coming from her.

He’s loved her for so long, he’s wanted her for so long. Feeling her body flush against him, her lips melding perfectly against his, demanding more... makes him more light headed than any type of alcohol ever could.  

Adrien’s hand delves through tousled black hair before he lets them trail down the sides of her face. His places his finger under her jaw, tilting her face to the side so he can get a better angle at her and she surrenders into him. Her hands are on his chest, tracing a smooth path up towards his shoulders. He wonders if she can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. He feels full, happy, and he doesn't want to part from her.

He wishes the music wasn’t so loud, he wishes he could hear her . Her sighs, her moans, because even if Adrien can’t hear anything other than the thundering music which surrounds them,he feels them. Soft pants against his lips as they break away to catch their breath, only to fall into each other all over again. Her lips are soft, so soft and her tongue is adventurous, pushing past his lips and coaxing out a loud moan from him.

Despite all he wants, he knows he needs to break away from her. For a second. The need for air is the only thing that rivals his need for her. The need to stay as close to her as possible. But if he doesn’t breathe in some oxygen soon, he might pass out.

He separates from her, but he can't bear to let go of her. His arms press her close to his body and she pushes herself closer, breasts pressed against his chest. He couldn't help but wonder, would she stay as close if she knew the thoughts running through his mind right now?

Her fingers trace over his face, touching over his cheek in a featherlike caress. She traces them over his lips, which are still tingling after their kisses and he nips at the pads. Her eyes darken and the look on her face goes straight to his groin. It’s not a look he’s ever seen on her. Parted lips and eyes darkened with want. But it's not only that, she wants him and he can see it in her face. The realization is his undoing.

He presses her against the wall,  one of his legs wedges between hers as he starts tracing soft kisses alongside her jaw. “You’re killing me,” he says against her ear, unsure if he can hear him over the loud music.

“Good.” Marinette chuckles, and Adrien nips against her neck. She gasps and her fingers tighten against his hair. She moans, and he’s able to hear her this time. She's right against his ear and he can feel the vibration as he suckles at her throat.

She is going to be the death of him and if this is the way he’s going to die, he accepts it fully.

His lips hover over hers, breaths mingling as he lets his hands wander down from her waist. He knows he should care more. They are in a public place, a crowded club. But it’s filled with celebrities drinking and partying. Surely their moment isn’t important enough to warrant that much attention. Especially over some supermodel who was so obviously giving a lapdance to a married A list actor.

Adrien’s hand traces down the curve of her hip, feeling the smooth fabric under his fingers. If he had any working neurones left, he’d think how flawless the fitting is, on how seamless it appears to be. But said dress is clinging to the body of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the thoughts this dress evokes are far from harmless.

The tip of his finger traces the uncovered sliver of skin on her thigh and Marinette’s breath hitches. She keeps her eyes on him, daring him to go further, even as her blush deepens. It's hypnotizing, her skin goes pink down her face and the color spreads past her collar bones and under the cleavage of her dress. But that sliver of thigh calls to him, and it's right there for his taking.

He indulges, and his fingers sneak under the fabric. He feels the smooth skin of her thigh for a second before he withdraws. He’s tempted to keep at it, just feel around under the fabric. To hike that leg over his hip and grind into her heat with lecherous abandon. But he still has a shred of self control and he’s clinging to it. Barely.

“Adrien,” Marinette’s fingers hook over his belt loops and she pulls him closer. He’s hard against her leg, and he should be more careful. They're teetering the edge of what's proper here. But her hands cling to him, pulling him closer and her warmth against him is maddening. She sways her hips, almost experimentally, and his eyes flutter closed for a second. Her smile is devious and she pulls him in again grinding her hip against his hardness.

“Marinette,” he warns her, or better said, tries to . It’s difficult to sound threatening. Especially when every time she (purposefully) brushed against him was enough to make him lose any grasp in reality. Marinete licks her lips and dear god, this woman is going to end him.

She’s about to say something, but he captures her lips in his again. It’s not new by now, but the renewed fervor makes her gasp. Good. His tongue pushes past her lips and it tangles with hers. He moans against her lips and Marinette clings tighter to him, swaying against his body. After a few seconds, she withdraws completely to bite his lower lip, before her lips attack his again. It's not gentle. It's a desperate and possessive kind of kiss. Her hands run down his shoulders and over his arms. She pushes them down from her waist, wordlessly permitting him to go where he wanted so badly.

Emboldened, he lets his hands roam. Over her hips, the small of her back, even daring to go back and finally over her ass. It had been prominently featured in his dreams since the first time he saw her wear those damned yoga pants. He pulls her in, so she can feel what she’s doing to him, how hard he is because of her, for her. She gasps against his lips and bites on his lower lip, before soothing the playful nip with a sensuous lick.

His hips buck against her and Adrien pulls apart from her. Marinette looks at him with dazed eyes and parted lips.

She swallows and leans forward, to speak by his ear, “We should...” She pauses to catch her breath. Her voice is hoarser than before, and it makes him even harder than he should be in public. She sounds wrecked and it makes him prouder than he should be. "We should probably...not do this here .” She finishes speaking by placing a kiss against his jaw, followed by a playful lick.

Not here. Adrien looks at Marinette, who bites her lower lip and stares up at him with expectant blue eyes as she leans back against the wall. This is actually happening, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, and all of a sudden he’s more nervous than he can ever remember being.

But he also knows that they’re toeing the line of public decency. Leaving is probably in their best interests.

His fingers trail across her exposed shoulders, and he lifts the golden bell dangling from her neck. Her eyes glint at his movement, and he doesn’t doubt she chose the jewelry on purpose. “My place?” His voice sounds lower and hoarser than he can ever remember it being. He doesn’t miss the way she shudders when he speaks against her ear.

Her answer is short but certain. “Yes.”