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mostmagical · 4 months

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Hii @sincerely-kiwi! I'm your Secret Santa for the Ashville discord server Secret Santa exchange!! This got just a little away from me, so I'll be posting part 2 tomorrow :)

Words: 7.2k (Ch. 2/2) Summary:

After yet another late night akuma interrupts her sleepover, Ladybug and her partner are forced to find cover to recharge where an unexpected observation from Chat Noir leads to some equally unexpected revelations for Marinette (and maybe a few scars).

Read Chapter 1 either on Ao3 or below the cut!

The beeping in her ears was insistent as Ladybug touched down on the nearest rooftop from the battle location, Chat Noir sharp on her heels. A clothesline split the rooftop patio in half, long white linens blowing in the slight breeze, and she quickly dashed to the other side.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she couldn’t see her partner anymore from behind the makeshift cover. “Looks like this will do,” she said brightly. “No peeking!”

“You know I would never do such a thing!” Her partner’s voice carried an air of mock-affront, Ladybug only marginally holding back her giggle in response. “I’m a purr-fect gentleman.”

Regardless, her transformation dropped, Tikki spiralling into her hands. She smiled down at the kwami, rummaging around in her purse with one hand for one of the treats she had set aside. She couldn’t help the way her eyes drifted down as she tried to locate something in the tiny bag—especially not when she spotted something she had never seen before.

On the other side of the sheet, Marinette could see two socked feet, connected to two pale legs. The sheet stopped at the top of the calf, so she couldn’t see anything other than that. Just two gray ankle socks. So simple and so un-Chat Noir-like she almost laughed in surprise. With him, she always thought of bright colors and patterns. A goofy guy like Chat Noir should be wearing goofy socks, in her honest opinion. The positioning of the sheet meant she could only imagine what else he might be wearing, and as much as she knew she shouldn’t, Marinette’s mind loved to imagine.

He must have been wearing some sort of short pants, considering she could see his bare skin. What kind of shorts would Chat Noir wear? Was he an athlete? Considering the sort of stunts she had seen him do on the daily, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was some sort of rugby player, or soccer— No, not soccer, she remembered with a smirk. So maybe rugby fit him best.

Part of her wondered if he had been getting ready for bed. Maybe he was in pajamas like her and Alya had been. The socks with no shoes certainly told her that he had been inside somewhere. What kind of thing might Chat Noir wear to bed? Did he wear goofy prints and sets with cats all over them? Or… less? No. Her face flushing red, Marinette quickly moved on to another line of thinking.

She wondered what Chat Noir wore on a day-to-day basis. Was he casual? More formal? What kind of colors did he like to wear?

Her mind drifted to the only other time she had seen him without a miraculous transformation, when he had run around in that banana suit. Now, that was an outfit befitting Chat Noir. She covered her mouth with one hand as a giggle threatened to break free at the memory.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a tail I see, m’Lady?”

Startled from her thoughts by the sudden voice, Marinette jumped straight up, breath catching in her throat with a gasp. As she came down, her feet seemed to trip over one another, and she fell backwards with half a shriek on her lips. Her body came crashing down into a collection of terracotta pots, the loud sound of shattering functioning as a backdrop as one broke directly under her elbow.

Marinette clamped her teeth together, bracing herself against the stinging pain in her arm.

Of course. Of course, she had completely forgotten she was wearing the outfit in the first place, and of course with her luck, the one person who couldn’t have possibly seen her in it actually saw her in it. Alya was going to have a field day when she heard about this. Her mind flashed back to their earlier conversation just before the akuma struck.

“What?” Marinette asked, turning to stare at Alya, having felt her friend’s eyes burning into the back of her head.

Alya snorted from across the room, shifting to hold the tray of cookies she held on her hip. “What are you wearing?” she asked.

Marinette looked down at herself, not seeing anything wrong with the black fabric covering her body. “My pajamas,” she answered simply. “I wanted to try making a onesie and I think it turned out pretty okay.” She shrugged, before remembering herself. “Oh! I made you one, too!” She quickly scrambled to her feet, rushing over to the far side of her desk where the pile of orange fabric was waiting for her. “Ta-da!”

The onesie unfurled between them as she dramatically presented it to Alya, orange tail lightly brushing against Marinette’s slippers as it fell.

“I’m also making some for Nino and Adrien, and probably Chat if I can figure out a good excuse for where it came from,” she continued to rapidly explain. “It’s a little silly, but I think they’d make great gifts!”

Alya stared at the presented outfit, eyebrows slowly raising. “M, that’s really cute! Thank you!” she said, stepping forward to finally place the tray down. “I do have to ask though, why Rena Rouge?”

“Why not Rena Rouge?” Marinette asked, winking. “She’s your favorite, right?”

“Sure, we can say that,” Alya laughed, “but you’re wearing Chat Noir.”

Marinette blinked, again looking down at her outfit. The golden bell she had fitted to the zipper pull glittered up at her. “Yeah, and?”

“Is he your favorite superhero?” Alya asked, a teasing grin on her face. Marinette did not enjoy the lilt of her tone.

Her face colored pink. “What?” she scoffed. “I don’t have favorites.”

Alya once again raised her eyebrows, staring Marinette down over the frames of her glasses. “Mmhmm,” she hummed. “You better hope he doesn’t see you in that, then.”

Marinette laughed. “Yeah, right! Like there’d be any chance of Chat seeing me in this.”

“With your luck?” Alya teased. “I think you better watch what you say.”

“Hey!” Marinette whined, folding the Rena Rouge onesie again and placing it on her desk. “That’s not—”

As if on cue, both their phones began ringing with an akuma alert.

“You were saying?” Alya laughed.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “But I’ll be transformed the whole time anyway.” She walked towards her window as she called for her transformation.

Alya just wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Say hi to your favorite superhero for me!”

“Ladybug?” Chat Noir frantically called from the other side of the sheet, breaking her from her thoughts. “What was that?” An arm-shaped silhouette pressed against the middle-most sheet, the outline of a boy becoming clearer, before it seemed to think better and disappeared. “Sorry! I didn’t see anything but the tail and I just couldn’t help myself!”

Marinette almost laughed, but the prominent throb of her arm had her screwing her mouth shut once again.

“Are you okay?” he called again when she didn’t respond, his voice strained with worry. “What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she replied. “I just fell, that's all.”

“I thought so,” he sighed. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m—” She cut herself off as she looked down at her arm. Her sleeve was torn, but that was an easy fix. An ugly red gash ran from the inside of her elbow to about halfway down her forearm, trickles of blood staining her skin. She hissed out through her teeth. “I’m fine,” she lied. Without thinking, she tried to brush some of the soil dusted over it away, but only served to hit the edges of the wound, causing her to hiss again.

“If you’re fine, what was that hiss?”

Panicked, Marinette squeaked, “Nothing!”

“No way.” She could hear a worried frown in his voice. “That sounded like an ‘I’m bleeding’ hiss. One of my friends makes that hiss all the time.”

“It was absolutely not an ‘I’m bleeding’ hiss.”

“So are you bleeding?”

Her voice came out small. “No.”

“My Lady.” His voice came out disbelieving.

“I’m not bleeding.”

“Yes, she is.”

Marinette gasped as she suddenly noticed Plagg beside her, looking down at her bloody injury. “Hey!”

Plagg looked up at her with a satisfied smirk before flying back over the clothesline divider.

Before she could make any complaints about privacy, Marinette heard her partner’s voice, quieter than she was used to. It had an air of something— was it feebleness? —to it that she never would have expected from him. “Ladybug, will you please let me see it?” he asked, pleading. “Please?”

Marinette blinked, stunned, and without even realizing what she was doing, she was standing up and walking back towards the sheet. It was only when she arrived back at her original position that she noticed there was a little issue with that plan. “Wait,” she said, “how am I supposed to show you? I’m not– My transformation will cover it up.”

“Don’t transform. Just stick your arm between the sheets here.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “No, I might…” Her voice went quieter as she finally admitted it. “I might stain them.”

“If you do, I’ll buy them a replacement.”

“What?”

“Here.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide as the sheets suddenly parted for her, a small gap about the size of her arm appearing.

“Just stick your arm through here. I won’t look anywhere else.”

Hesitantly, she complied, pushing her arm through the gap slowly. She cringed when she heard Chat’s gasp.

“It’s not that bad,” she defended.

“Not that bad?” She tried to ignore the sudden shock she felt when fingers wrapped around her wrist. Bare fingers. “Look at all this blood,” he continued. “Are you woozy? Does it hurt?”

“No.” There was a gentle prod to the inside of her elbow, right above where the cut began. Marinette hissed again.

“Yes,” Chat said, answering his own question. “I need to patch this up.” There were more prods along the gash, forcing a whimper out of Marinette’s mouth against her wishes. “Sorry, my Lady,” came his gentle voice, “I’m just trying to see how deep it is.”

She worried her bottom lip, trying to ignore the pain and the feeling of warm fingertips on her skin. “Does– Does it look deep?” she asked.

“It might be best for you to see a doctor in case you need stitch—”

“No! No stitches,” she refused. She didn’t even know how she would begin to explain this one to her parents.

“Okay, no stitches,” he relented, to her relief, “but we do need to stop this bleeding and cover it up. I’m worried you might get an infection.” His hand started to gently brush against her skin, sending the hairs on the back of her neck standing up straight. “What did you fall on? There’s dirt all over your arm.”

Marinette swallowed against the lump in her throat, looking over her shoulder at the destruction she left behind. “Uh, someone’s garden, it looks like,” she answered. “A few terracotta pots.”

Chat hummed in such a way that she could imagine his cat ears pressing flat against his head. “Is there a watering can or anything?”

“Uh, I mean…” She scanned over the shattered pots and scattered soil, spotting a squirt bottle just a bit away on a small gardening cart. “Yes, I see a squirt bottle. Why?”

“I need to clean this.”

“What?” she squeaked, turning back towards the sheet and his voice. “No– You don’t– I can just go home.”

“Absolutely not,” he replied, firm enough to surprise her. “I don’t want this to get any deeper than it already is, so it’s best I take care of this now.”

“This is silly,” Marinette whined. She tried to pull away, but his grip was strong around her wrist. Struggling only made the pain flare up again. “You really don’t have to.”

“Tikki,” Chat Noir called instead, ignoring her pleas. “Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here!” Tikki replied, floating into Marinette’s point of view.

“Hide! Don’t let her leave!”

Marinette gasped in her betrayal as Tikki giggled. “You got it, Chat Noir!”

“Wait, you can’t do that.” She glared at Tikki who simply waved and dashed away out of sight. “You can’t turn my own kwami against me.”

“Too bad,” he laughed. “Now, about that spray bottle. Plagg, would you mind?”

Marinette watched in disbelief as Chat Noir’s kwami reappeared from over the sheet and flew towards the squirt bottle. “So, no one’s on my side?”

Chat chuckled again from the other side, his fingers now drawing small circles on the inside of her wrist that she would never admit felt very nice. “Just trying to keep the hero of Paris safe from harm. How are you supposed to throw a yoyo if you end up needing a cast? What if it needs amputation?”

She groaned, her free arm crossing over her chest in protest. Her injured arm was held captive on the other side, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to break free or not. Chat Noir’s soft hand gently squeezed her elbow as he folded her torn sleeve over it. She swallowed. Maybe this was fine.

Plagg flew back over their makeshift divider, squirt bottle grasped between his tiny paws, and disappeared again from Marinette’s sight.

She heard a slight sloshing, as if Chat Noir had shaken the bottle.

“Okay, it looks clean,” he sighed. “It’ll have to do. I’m just going to spray a little water on your arm to clean off this dirt, okay?”

Marinette nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see her. “Okay,” she agreed.

The water wasn’t cold, but it still surprised her when it hit her skin. A gentle hand— feather-light, as if afraid to touch her— brushed at her skin for a moment before more water was sprayed over her arm.

Chat Noir made a disappointed sound. “I really wish I had some rubbing alcohol…” he murmured. His voice was louder as he dictated an instruction to her, “When you get home, wash this again with warm water and then clean the edges with rubbing alcohol and cotton balls. If you have any antibiotic ointments, even better. That’ll stave off any bacteria from making a home here.”

She bit her lip, trying to commit his words to her memory. “Okay.”

“And then cover it with a clean bandage, okay? Don’t just reuse the old one.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” she commented.

Chat hummed approvingly. “I have a first aid certification.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Chat Noir, RN, at your service.”

Her mind conjured an image of Chat Noir, cat ears and all, in a white doctor’s coat, and she couldn’t help the snort that blew through her nose as a result. She paused as she recalled his earlier statement. “Wait, you’re going to bandage it?”

“I have to,” he said assuredly. “If I leave it open, it might just keep bleeding, or it’ll get infected.”

“Oh…” She furrowed her brows. “But where are you going to get a bandage?”

Chat Noir went quiet for a moment. It felt like he had finished cleaning the wound, and his hand still holding the underside of her forearm tapped a pattern on her skin with one finger.

“I got it,” he finally said. “One second. Stay still.”

The warmth of his hand left her, and she was surprised to realize she missed that anchor. Without it, she was reminded of the ache of the gash on her arm. She tucked her free hand under her armpit to try and support her own weight, chewing her lip.

There was a quiet rustling noise on the other side, followed by the very familiar sound of tearing fabric.

Marinette jolted, reacting immediately. “Chat, you better not be ripping up someone else’s laundry!” she growled. “I don’t care if you promise to replace it!”

“I’m not,” he replied. “This is my shirt.”

“What.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda old and I have plenty more at ho–”

“You took off your shirt?” Marinette interrupted. “Like… the one off your back?”

“I mean, yes, it’s the only one I had.”

Don’t picture shirtless Chat Noir, don’t picture shirtless Chat Noir, don’t picture—

She wished she could bury her face in her hands.

“Ladybug?”

With a flaming face, she realized she had been silent for far too long. “I– uh, you thank– Thank you,” she winced, hearing herself stutter— Ladybug wasn’t supposed to stutter—, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem,” he said, as if it really didn’t matter to him that he had actually ripped the shirt off his back just to clean up her bloody mess. “I’m going to touch you again, okay?”

Marinette made a short grunt of acknowledgement, bracing herself for the feeling of his warm hands on her skin again. It came with the feeling of soft cotton fabric pressing against her, the dull ache growing sharper as he pressed against her wound.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

She chose to be honest. “It– It hurts a little, but I’m okay.”

“Good.” He sounded relieved. “It looks like the bleeding is slowing down.”

Considering all she felt was ache and wet, she decided she would take his word for it. They fell into what Marinette thought was a comfortable silence— him dabbing at her skin, and her standing still and allowing him to care for her. She tried to imagine it was just a regular trip to the nurse’s office.

In the dark. On a rooftop. In the middle of the night.

Totally normal.

After a few moments, the dabbing ceased, and instead she felt a dry cloth begin to be applied to her skin, gently wrapping around her arm.

Soon enough, Chat Noir broke the silence. “I’m really sorry, again, by the way,” he said, regret mixed with sincerity tinting the edges of his tone. “I know you said not to look and I promise I wasn’t, but I just happened to glance down and thought I saw a tail and what else could I do? Not mention it?”

Marinette steadfastly ignored the way her cheeks heated up. She couldn’t exactly get mad at him when she had been doing the same thing, after all. “It’s not your fault that I fell, you know,” she told him instead.

“It kinda feels like it is.”

“It’s not.”

Chat Noir once again fell silent on the other side of the sheet, quietly continuing his work.

Marinette tried to focus on anything other than the feeling of his fingers pressing against her skin or the melancholy hanging over them, but it was too heavy. She swallowed the lump in her throat hard enough to hurt, a dry, aching feeling pulling at her insides.

She knew what she had to do. “It is a tail,” she admitted.

Chat’s hands stopped moving. A pause fell between them. After a moment passed, he asked, “Why are you wearing a tail?”

She chewed her lip, almost regretting her decision to come clean, but she pushed through the nerves. “It’s part of my Chat Noir onesie.”

“Your what?”

He had genuine shock in his voice, clearly having heard what she said. With a laugh on the edge of her lips, Marinette tapped the bell on her zipper, letting its quiet chime answer his question for her.

“A bell?” The grip on her wrist tightened for a second before it went lax again, as if he had realized what he had done. “Oh man, I want to look so bad. Why did you do this to me?”

She laughed then, wishing she could see his face. “Just wanted you to ‘B positive,’ I guess.”

He gasped, and she could just imagine his little cat ears perking up on his head. “Oh, milady, I’m O positive you always know just what to say to make me feel better,” he laughed.

Marinette grinned, proud her little distraction worked so well. “Hey, why did the cat go to vet school?”

“Hmm… To take care of his lady?”

“No! To become a purr-fessional!”

He laughed again, loud and full. “God, I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat at how casually he said it. She had heard him say it a thousand times, but it never failed to make her heart beat a little faster. A strangled noise made its way out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he said. “That just slipped out. I know you don’t really want to hear me say that anymore. I meant ‘love you’ like a friend.”

“R-right…”

She didn’t want to hear that. That is what she had told him before.

Right?

There was a slight tug at the bend of her arm. “Well, you’re all set now,” Chat declared. “Miraculous Ladybug.”

She snorted. “Don’t you mean ‘Mister Bug’?”

“One of us is more miraculous than the other,” he replied. Before she could argue against him, he continued, “You even have your spots outside of the costume.”

“What do you mean?” Feeling his hands release her, she pulled her hand back through the gap. Her arm was now wrapped in white fabric, a black stripe running twice around her forearm, and a neat knot tied at her elbow. She smiled, impressed at how seamless it looked.

“Inside your wrist,” he answered, drawing her eyes to the spot. “You have two freckles. Looks just like Adalia bipunctata.”

“A-what?”

“Two-spot ladybird. It’s a ladybug.”

“Oh.” She giggled. “I have more than that,” she admitted. “In the summer, I get freckles all up and down my arms from the sun. These two just like to hang out year-round.”

“Really?” he gasped. “So you really are a real-life ladybug?”

“Maybe I am,” she teased. “Do you actually like scratches behind the ear?”

“You want to give it a try now?”

She scoffed. “You wish, kitty,” she laughed. “Tikki, you can come out now! I’m all patched up!”

A couple transformations later, Ladybug was back in her suit. She clenched and unclenched the hand on her injured arm a few times, testing the feeling. Her skin stung a bit at the pull, but otherwise it felt fine.

The hanging sheet in front of her shifted, and Chat Noir’s black pointed ears poked through the gap. He had a grin on his face. “Feel okay?” he asked.

Ladybug smiled. “Good as new.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, stepping fully onto her side of the clothesline. “Well, then I guess I’ll see you next time, milady. Have a good night.”

“Wait,” Ladybug said, watching as his face turned questioning. She stepped closer, throwing her arms around his neck before she could talk herself out of it. “Thank you for taking care of me, Chaton.”

He was stiff at first, but soon melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle. “That’s what I’m here for, Buginette,” he muttered into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, again–”

“No, nope.” She pulled back, placing her hands on either side of his face to force him to look at her. His eyes were wide. “If you ever blame yourself for my clumsiness again, I won’t bring chouquettes for patrol anymore.”

“Whoa!” he gasped, eyebrows raising. “Threat perceived.”

“Good.” She patted his cheek gently before stepping out of his arms once more. “Good night, Chat Noir.”

“Night, Ladybug.”

With a flick of her wrist, she left him standing on the rooftop, heading back home and to her and Alya’s abandoned sleepover.

When Alya saw the wrapping on Marinette’s arm and her torn sleeve, she was understandably concerned.

“What happened to you?” she asked, rushing to her feet.

Marinette grinned, holding her hands up in a placating fashion. “Just a normal little slip,” she explained. “I’ll be right back, though,” she said, heading towards the trap door in her bedroom floor. “I promised Chat Noir I’d clean and change the bandage when I got home.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll explain when I get back!”

Marinette quickly made her way to the bathroom, pulling open the medicine cabinet where she knew her mother kept the first aid kit. She soon located the rubbing alcohol and a few skin-colored bandages to replace Chat’s shirt. Carefully, she undid his work, wincing when she got a look at the gash again. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding anymore, but that didn’t stop it from looking scary. She set aside the torn fabric on the corner of the sink and got to work cleaning the wound.

Once she was finished, she carefully returned all the supplies to the kit and threw away her used cotton balls. She reached for the shirt as well, but paused when her eye caught on a gray tab sticking straight up.

The label was still intact on the collar of Chat Noir’s shirt.

She only faltered for a second before curiosity got the better of her. Her thumb brushed over the seam, turning it over until she could clearly see a stylized ‘G’ that she recognized all too well.

Eyes widening, Marinette wondered what kind of wardrobe Chat Noir had at home to tear up a designer Gabriel shirt without a second thought.

#ml fanfic #ladynoir #ashville secret santa 2023 #ashville secret santa #miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous #my writing

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mostmagical · 4 months

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Summary:

This is Chapter 2 as part of the Ashville Secret Santa exchange! Read Chapter 1 on Tumblr or Ao3!

The next day at school, Marinette couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander to the previous night. Since it had been in shreds, she couldn’t find the exact shirt that Chat Noir had given her, but she knew men’s t-shirts at Gabriel were on the higher priced end. Maybe he hadn’t been aware of how expensive it had been.

She leaned her head against her hand, mindlessly drawing cat faces in the margins of her notebook as she thought things over.

And had he said he had more at home? That wasn’t weird; she knew plenty of people with more than one shirt. But did he mean more shirts, or more Gabriel shirts?

She screwed up her face. No, that didn’t make sense. She had never taken much thought to Chat Noir’s homelife before, but she definitely didn’t think he was the type to collect designer fashion. It didn’t fit his carefree nature at all.

The cat faces began to grow more defined, attached to bodies and masks that she imagined green eyes peeking out of.

Really, Chat Noir was more suited to a cardboard box than a walk-in closet.

Or… maybe she had that wrong?

His socks… They were gray.

So distracted in her musings, she hadn’t noticed Alya getting her phone out until it was too late.

“This is the one she made for me,” Alya was saying, leaning over their shared desk to show Nino her phone. Adrien tilted his head in their direction, not seeming like he wanted to pry, but curious all the same. Alya swiped on the screen. “And this is Marinette in her—”

Marientte shot out of her seat before she even realized what she was doing. “Don’t show them that!” she squeaked, reaching forward to grab Alya’s phone out of her hand.

Alya dodged at just the right moment to keep her phone away from Marinette’s grabbing fingers, but in just the right direction that Marinette’s arm came banging down on the corner of the desk.

Marinette grunted in pain, immediately moving to cradle her arm. With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she sunk back into her seat. “Ow,” she murmured quietly under her breath.

Alya’s hand touched her shoulder. “M, you okay?” she asked.

Marinette peeked her eyes open slowly, finding both the boys staring at her in concern. “I-I’m okay,” she replied, wincing through the shooting pain returning to her arm. She directed her eyes downward, pushing up the sleeve of her sweater to reveal her bandage. A red spot was burgeoning through the gauze. Air blew through her teeth.

“The ‘I’m bleeding’ hiss,” Adrien stated.

“Correct, Adrien.” Alya nodded her head. “Marinette, go to the nurse.”

“I’m fine,” Marinette lied, “it’s fine.”

Alya grabbed her by the wrist, pulling Marinette’s arm away from where she had been hiding it in her lap and up over the table. “No, you’re not,” she said sternly. “Nurse. Now.”

Marinette stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Really, it’s fine.”

She shouldn’t have tried to get out of it. Alya’s lips curled into a predatory smirk, and Marinette could practically see the plot forming behind her friend’s eyes.

“Adrien,” Alya said, turning towards the boy in front of them, “would you mind walking Marinette to the nurse?”

He was already standing up out of his seat before she finished asking. “Of course,” he replied. “Come on, Marinette.” He held out a hand.

Marinette frantically looked between the two of them, glancing briefly at Nino, who only shrugged helplessly. “No, I–”

“Look, Adrien is already standing up,” Alya pointed out. “Don’t make him sit back down.”

Defeated, Marinette sighed, pushing herself to her feet. Adrien stepped out of the way to allow her to walk into the aisle and down the stairs of the classroom. After a quick word to the teacher to let her know why they were leaving in the middle of study hall, they exited through the door.

Marinette kept a loose grip on the elbow of her injured arm, holding it close to her chest as they walked together. Their footsteps echoed in the empty hall, on beat with the steady thumping of her heart. With how quiet the air was between them, she was sure he could hear its rhythmic pattern from the inside of her ribcage.

“So, what happened to your arm?” Adrien asked. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he added, a hand to the back of his neck.

“No, it’s fine,” Marinette sighed. “I fell on it. You know, normal Marinette things.”

She expected Adrien to laugh, but instead his eyebrows just furrowed, making those concerned eyes that made her feel like melting under his gaze. “‘Normal Marinette things’ usually don’t result in a bandage that large,” he replied.

“What? No–” She looked down at her arm, trying her best not to wince at the fresh bloodstain stretching across the length of her forearm. “I promise, it’s okay,” she reassured. “This doesn’t even hurt!”

“You’re sure?”

“Super sure!”

Adrien was still frowning, but he nodded as they arrived in front of the nurse’s room. He rapped on the door gently. There was no answer. He had his fist raised, ready to knock again, when Marinette stopped him.

“Look,” she said, pointing to a small sign hanging on the door handle, “Nurse Bergamont is out to lunch.”

Adrien looked down, eyes widening as he noticed the sign for the first time.

“But it’s okay,” Marinette began to excuse herself, “I can just go back to the classroom. I’m sure this stopped bleeding already…”

Without a word, Adrien twisted the door handle. It wasn’t locked, and swung open easily. “No need!” he said, turning to her with a bright smile. He pressed his thumb to his chest in a show of airy confidence. “I can check it. I’m first aid certified.”

She stood in place, still clutching her arm to her chest as she stared at him and filed away the new information. “You are?”

“Well–” He shrugged, arms falling back to his sides. “As much as you can be with just an online class.”

Marinette’s mouth gaped open and closed as she kept staring at him, struggling to come up with any excuse for why she couldn’t allow him to care for her. Her mind came up blank. “Uh– um, okay, sure,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

He beamed at her in response, and Marinette could no longer find any reason to regret her decision. “After you,” he said politely, sweeping out one arm as the other held the door for her.

She gave him a shaky smile in return as she crossed the threshold. Landing in about the middle of the room, she hovered awkwardly as Adrien followed her, unsure what to do with herself. Her arm had moved on from stinging pain to a steady throb. A little easier to ignore, but still very much hurting.

“Go ahead and sit down over there,” Adrien said from behind her. “I’m going to try to find some supplies.”

She made a noise that she hoped sounded like acknowledgement, uncertain if she would be able to form words without tripping over her tongue. Slowly, she made her way towards the hospital bed, perching herself on the very edge. She nervously focused on the fraying edge of her bandage as she heard the pop of Adrien opening the cupboard of medical supplies across the room. He joined her a few moments later, a collection of bandages, some sort of ointment, cotton balls and cotton swabs in his arms. He gently placed them on the side table next to the bed, then pulled up a stool to sit across from her.

She swallowed dryly, trying to breathe normally when his knees were so close to pressing against hers.

“Can I have your hand?”

Marinette’s head shot up from its place examining the floor tiles. “Wh-what?”

Adrien’s face showed only confusion. “Your hand?” he repeated. “Can I see it?”

She blinked, once, twice, three times.

Oh.

Oh, yes, of course.

“Yes,” she said all too fast. “Sorry, um.” She thrust her arm out, nearly striking him in the stomach had he not leaned backwards at just the right moment.

Adrien smiled gently, not at all phased by her strange behavior. He grasped her hand with warm fingers, the other hand coming to hold her elbow to position her forearm so he could better scrutinize the damage. His touch was light and tender, the same levity that Chat Noir had handled her with the night before.

“What made you want to learn first aid?” she asked.

“I got tired of seeing the people I care about in pain and not being able to do anything about it.” He shrugged, and she felt her heart twinge in her chest. “It’s small, but it’s something I can do.” His eyes met hers with a tiny smile. “Is it okay if I take off this wrap?” he asked. “It might have stuck to your skin.”

Her voice felt small. “Go ahead.”

Slowly, he began unwinding the bandages from around her arm, revealing the ugly gash in her skin piece by piece. It had already stopped bleeding, but the sight was still a bit shocking to look at, and she couldn’t help the hiss that left her lips at its appearance. Adrien met her eyes with another kind smile when he heard it.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, not at all.”

He nodded. “Good.” Having finally removed the entirety of the bandage from her arm, he set it aside. “Okay, this actually doesn’t look as bad as I thought. It might not even scar,” he said, looking intently at the wound. “One second.” He stood up, taking the soiled bandage with him to the corner of the room where the sink and a trashcan were.

She strained her neck trying to watch as he ran the water, testing the temperature with his fingers before running a square of gauze beneath the stream. He squeezed it out for a moment, before he appeared content with it. Once he turned the tap back off, he was returning to his seat opposite her on the stool.

“I’m going to clean it, okay?”

Marinette nodded, grateful that he continued to give her little warnings each time before he touched her. His hand was just as gentle as before as he took her by the elbow to hold her steady. The wet gauze was warm as it touched down on her skin. The sensation was much more comfortable than she had expected, and she found herself relaxing as Adrien slowly worked it down the length of her arm, starting from the very top of the gash by the inside of her elbow. There was nothing particularly special about his movements, but she found herself mesmerized all the same as she watched him.

“Oh…” Adrien breathed softly. “You have two freckles on your wrist.”

Marinette chuckled, her memory drifting off once again to the previous night with her partner. “Yeah, my friend told me they looked like a two-spotted ladybird,” she recalled.

Adrien’s thumb brushed across the freckles, making Marinette shiver. “Really?” he asked.

She nodded, though he wasn’t looking at her, instead focused entirely on her wrist. “Yup,” she confirmed. “Except, he’s a big dork, so he actually said the scientific name. Ada– something–”

“Adalia bipunctata?”

She blinked, slightly surprised. That was silly, though, she knew Adrien was terribly smart. Surely, plenty of boys knew the scientific names of various ladybug species off the top of their heads.

“Yeah, that’s the one, actually.”

Marinette waited for Adrien to say something else, but he stayed quiet. She looked up from her arm to find him openly staring at her, mouth dropped open and eyes wide. Her face felt red at the attention.

“What?”

He startled, looking as though he was coming out of a trance. “Sorry, it’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head. He resumed his ministrations, having just about finished cleaning the length of the cut. He put aside the gauze and began to unscrew the top of the ointment, using the cotton swabs to apply it to her skin.

She bit her lip as she watched him, again surprised that nothing stung or hurt under his gentle hands.

As he moved on to rewrapping her arm, he took in a breath. His voice sounded almost shaky as he said, “You know–” He paused to swallow. “I heard a joke recently, about the veterinarian. I wonder if you know it.”

She furrowed her brow. “The veterinarian?”

“Just trust me,” he said. “I think you’ll laugh.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Why did the cat go to vet school?”

Her blood chilled in her veins. She drew her eyes up to look at him, finding him staring back at her again, green eyes intense. “Why?” she whispered.

“Because,” he said slowly, “he wanted to become a—”

“Purr-fessional,” she recited, at the same time as he did.

His lips twitched into a small smile, matching his softening eyes. She could only swallow thickly as her heart quickened in her chest, trying her best to focus on the movement of his hands still wrapping her arm. His hand was right on her wrist. Could he feel her pulse racing?

“What color are your socks?” she blurted.

His smile dropped as he voiced a very perplexed, “Uh…”

Internally, Marinette panicked. God, why was she such a freak?

She hadn’t noticed Adrien pulling up his pants leg until his voice cut through her mental alarm bells. “They’re gray.” He glanced back up at her almost shyly. “Is that okay?”

Marinette’s heart stopped its incessant beating.

Gray.

Chat Noir’s socks were gray.

Naturally, her heart resumed pumping blood through her extremities, and she found her breath again.

He knew, didn’t he? That’s why he was looking at her like that. He was waiting for her to say something, to acknowledge the elephant in the room standing right between them.

‘Is that okay?’ he had asked her. It was more than okay, it was, well, she didn’t really think she had the words to describe it. She opened her mouth to soothe his worries.

The door creaked as it swung open.

“Hey, dudes,” Nino greeted. “The bell rang and you hadn’t come back so I told the teacher I’d come check on you.”

Marinette clamped her mouth shut.

Adrien smiled at Nino over her shoulder. “We just finished up in here,” he said, tying off Marinette’s bandage on her wrist. “Right, Marinette?” He stood up from his stool, offering her a hand.

She glanced wide-eyed from his face to his hand before finally taking it, allowing him to pull her up. He dropped it almost immediately once she was standing. Again, she clutched her injured arm close to her body, watching his face.

His lips curved into a lopsided smile.

They could talk about this later, the smile said.

***

It had been a long time since Ladybug had felt so nervous in her own suit. She figured she was probably crushing the crinkled bag of chouquettes in her arms, but she knew that Chat Noir wouldn’t mind.

And if he was who she thought he might be, she knew he would never turn down her family’s baking.

The sun was just beginning to set when she landed at their meeting place. She was a little late for patrol—unfortunately, her timetable got moved back when she took an extra twenty minutes to overthink in her bedroom after school—so she wasn’t surprised when she found Chat Noir already waiting for her. He sat with his back to her, legs dangling off the edge of the rooftop while he twiddled with his fingers.

His ears twitched as she approached, indicating that he heard her. She watched as his entire torso turned to look at her, before he scrambled to his feet.

“My Lady!” he greeted, one hand awkwardly hovering on the back of his neck. “Hi.”

She lifted her own hand in a short wave. “Hi,” she returned.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asked, putting both hands on his hips. “Uh. Purr-fect for patrol.”

She raised an eyebrow at what was clearly a pun he added in afterthought. Her eyes scanned his body, noting his posture and the way he was holding himself. Chat Noir looked like he was posing for an afterschool special. She had never seen such a stiff smile on his face, or his back so straight.

She had never been more sure of anything in her life.

That was Adrien Agreste.

His cheeks went slightly red under her gaze, and his clear nervousness granted her the momentary confidence to do what she needed.

“Take this.”

Unceremoniously, she shoved the bag of chouquettes into his arms, not even waiting to see if he would grab it before she pulled away. She turned to her side, hiding her face behind her bangs as she opened her yoyo to rifle through the portal. Her fingers fumbled around on the other side for only a moment before she found her target, grasping the soft material. The hard part was pulling it back through the portal, which she did struggle with for much longer than she wanted to. Finally, the red and black spotted material pulled through, and she closed her yoyo with a snap.

She turned back to Chat Noir, shoving the bundle of fabric into his other arm. “I made this for you,” she explained, trying her hardest not to look into his sparkling eyes. “When you get an identical one for Christmas, can you act surprised for Alya and Nino’s sake?”

“Wh– Really?”

“Yeah, because, obviously I made you two because I didn’t know you were, well, you, so. Yeah.”

She glanced back at his face for just a second long enough to see his kitten eyes and parted lips. She immediately turned away.

There was the sound of the fabric unfurling, followed by his gasp. “Does this– Is this matching yours?”

Her face felt very hot. “No,” she said quickly. “Yes. I don’t know. Actually– I have to go.”

“You do?” he asked, and his voice sounded so disappointed, she couldn’t help but turn back towards it.

Ladybug pouched her lips, why was he so cute? Before she could talk herself out of it, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” she bid, throwing out her yoyo while her body burned.

She bit back a smile at his gasp as she swung away.

#ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ladynoir #adrinette #my writing #ashville secret santa 2023

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