Archive of Our Own

Things had been a little tense. 

After years of pining over Adrien Agreste, she’d found herself gradually easing away from loving him. The fantasies of a house, three kids and a hamster morphing casually into more laid back future with images of the four friends hanging out and eating pizza in dorm rooms. Did she still occasionally get a little weak kneed when he beamed at her like she was the most precious thing in the universe... yes, but still the house, three kids and a hamster remained. Someone else lived there with her now, in her head. A nameless, faceless blond boy with mischief in his eyes and a tongue that stuck out in youthful defiance at her choice of name for the hamster. 

Sadly it seemed her affections were once again misplaced. Telling Cat Noir, a few weeks earlier, that she’d developed feelings for him had not been met with the cocky lines and shy kisses the eighteen year old heroine had expected. Instead he’d very awkwardly told her that he’d spent a long time trying to get over her, and was in love with another girl in his real life. He bore her no ill will, and she knew he hadn’t intended to hurt her, his tone apologetic and gentle. She wished him well, even though it cut her up, and he insisted he wasn’t going to make a move on the other girl any time soon (having learned his lesson about falling too hard and too fast before). 

But things had been stilted between the pair since. Akuma attacks brought them back to their usual levels of synchronicity, with neither missing a mark or letting the other down. Shared patrols were quieter, more somber affairs, with neither knowing quite how to speak to the other with their standard banter seeming too much like flirtation. 

She hoped they’d recover from it soon, the distance between them feeling like a punishment of sorts, but perhaps if they didn’t it was a warning, a cautionary tale to prove that it was the right call for the universe to make. If they couldn’t survive remaining as close as they had been through unrequited feelings, they probably shouldn’t have dated anyway: a break up was probably a way bigger deal. 

Hearing him land behind her, she smiled. 

“Evening, Kitty.” She greeted, without looking around. 

“Evening, Ladybug.” Ladybug. No more My Lady. She missed the moniker, but supposed she only had herself to blame. She who hesitates and all that. He sighed after his greeting, as though he heard the change aloud too, and sat himself beside her. 

“We circling the bars tonight? I figure it’s a Saturday night so there’s probably going to be more...” Ladybug began, a plan in mind. 

“Not yet. I need to talk and I need you to listen.” Cat Noir cut in. Ladybug abandoned her sentence and nodded, lowering her gaze to her lap. 

“This... this is messed up.” He said eventually. 

“Now you know how I felt for years.” She murmured, before retreating a little. She hadn’t meant that, but his features at a glance showed he wasn’t hurt by her words. They were true after all. 

“I genuinely thought I had a shot with this other girl. She’s amazing, she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s unbelievably kind...” He said wistfully. 

“Ouch. We’re fine, we’ll be okay, I promise... but can we not wax lyrical about your girlfriend, please?” She pleaded, her voice quiet. Cat Noir shook his head. 

“Not my intention I... this is coming out all wrong. See the thing is... she’s one of the most fantastic people I’ve ever met and I could see myself being happy with her.” Cat Noir’s leather belt flicked behind him in agitation, like a real cat’s tail would. “But she’s not you.” He concluded. 

Ladybug didn’t know exactly what she was supposed to say to that. That was the point, wasn’t it? That he was in love with someone else? She stared out over the city again, losing herself in the lights. The spring air felt suddenly too cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

“I kind of want to be angry about it.” Cat Noir confessed. “Like... why now? It felt like you picked the worst possible moment to fall for me...” He said miserably. She held her own arms tightly for comfort.

“In my defence if I’d known you were over me I wouldn’t have brought it up.” Ladybug mumbled, wondering what he was getting out of this guilt trip. Beside her, he leaned back onto his elbows, staring skyward at the stars. 

“That’s just the thing.” He said, green eyes reflecting the heavens. “I’m not over you. I’m never going to be over you, am I?” He didn’t sound happy about it, and Ladybug was wrong footed once more. He wasn’t over her? “If I’d chased the other girl, if I’d been braver or less... awkward... if she’d felt the same... you falling for me would mess me up just as much as it did before I’d made a move.” 

“Well I’m sorry my feelings are such a burden,” she said waspishly, turning her head. “I’ll keep my mouth shut next time.” 

“Listen to me.” Cat Noir whined, frustrated. “I’m not mad at you, Bug. I’m mad at me.” He explained. “At the realisation that this amazing girl I know... the one I thought I loved... I... I’d have hurt her. One way or another I’d never have been truly faithful.” He said miserably. “If you hadn’t told me then I’d have been holding her to this... impossible mantle. I’d have been forcing her into a relationship where she came second to a girl she could never know about. I’d have abandoned dates with her in a heartbeat to come chase butterflies with you. And if you’d told me and she and I were together...” he trailed off, leaving the fact he’d have probably broken up with the girl unsaid. “Whichever way you cut it... I’d have hurt her. And I’m angry at myself for that. She deserves better.” 

Ladybug drew her knees up, hugging them instead of her arms as she felt Cat’s gaze on her. 

“I’m sorry I have terrible timing?” She offered by way of an apology. 

“Probably saved everyone a lot of heartbreak in the long run.” He conceded. “I needed time to think about it. To I don’t know... process it, I guess.” Cat Noir’s explanation made sense, and her rising hopes kept creeping further and further upward. “I love you too.” He said softly, words carrying in the still air. 

Ladybug turned her head toward him, and found he’d rolled slightly toward her. 

“If you tell me you’ve changed your mind I’m going to throw myself off the building.” He joked, a small smirk appearing. 

“I haven’t.” Her promise came with a small laugh. 

“Good. We’re okay then?” He questioned. She nodded and slowly lay herself back to be parallel with him. A gloved hand reached out hesitantly, and she tracked its path with her gaze until it rested on her cheek, the tips of his claws just brushing her earlobe. “Does this mean I can kiss you?” He wondered in quiet awe. Racing heart aside, she gave another gentle nod closing the gap between their masked faces.  

His kiss was a little fiercer than she’d anticipated, but no less welcome. She supposed having feelings that had been forced into submission finally reciprocated was a reason to be confident all on its own, and met his ferocity with a spark of her own desire, working their mouths open. The hand that had caressed her cheek so tentatively wound tightly into her hair, disturbing her left pigtail. She couldn’t find it in herself to care, drawn to him like a magnet as the space between their bodies became nonexistent. The chill that had crept over her replaced with soothing body heat as they embraced. She couldn’t think now, why she’d expected him to be shy, not as his tongue roamed her mouth with reckless abandon. They were finally kissing! 

A gentle topple and he was on top of her, pinning her to the rooftop, their kiss unbroken. She threaded the fingers of her left hand through his own golden locks, her right resting comfortably on his hip until he tore himself back, only straying as far as resting their foreheads together. 

“Have to stop.” He murmured dazedly. 

“Nuh uh.” She countered, dragging him back down for another kiss. He happily obliged but there was a hesitation now, the moment she realised that she let go, staring up at him in confusion. “What’s wrong, Chaton?” She asked softly. 

His soft laugh was barely a huff of breath against her face. 

“Nothing wrong.” He promised her, kissing the tip of her nose, the tiny affectionate gesture causing her to beam. 

“Then why are we stopping?” She wondered, bewildered. The look he gave her was sheer adoration, but the laugh was low and dirty. 

“Because if we keep going you’re about to get a baton where you ought not to.” He explained. She took a moment to process the implication and then giggled. 

“Oh.” She realised, oddly enthralled with the idea. She could turn Cat Noir on with just a bit of heavy kissing? Had she always had that power?

He kissed her cheek instead, in a much more innocent gesture. Compelled to see just how far her newfound ability extended, Ladybug met his lips once more for another kiss, meeting no form of protest and causing his hand to tighten ever so slightly in her hair, the heel of his palm against her earring. A few more, slightly more cautious flicks from Cat’s tongue had her dizzy, and seemingly when he realised she wasn’t bothered by his condition he relaxed atop her, the offending appendage pressing hard against her thigh. That was... new. 

While Ladybug had technically never kissed anyone other than Cat Noir, Marinette had, but certainly nothing as heavy as this, nothing so bold as a leather clad erection to compliment her on her kissing prowess. She preened under the attention, both curious and excited at the prospect. It wasn’t like it could go much further anyway, Cat Noir’s zipper stopped around the middle of his waist, she doubted he could slip it free of his shoulders given how form fitting it was, and her own suit didn’t even offer a zipper that would expose her upper body. Getting carried away wasn’t on the cards, so this was just... an exploration. One she was happy to embark on. 

She shuffled a little beneath him, until her hips were level with his. He growled, biting her lip very gently. 

“Playing a dangerous game there, my lady.” He whispered, and she tried to avoid showing her hand too much in how much she’d missed that nickname. She failed miserably to keep it off of her face and the adoring look he gave her told her so. 

“Maybe your lady likes a little danger.” She replied sagely, giving an experimental roll of her pelvis and shuddering at the sensation of leather against vinyl. Her suit was thinner than his, she assumed it was the equivalent of two regular civilians being in their underwear and a pair of jeans respectively. She could feel the heat of his skin, but only just. He pressed back, quirking an eyebrow to confirm it was okay. Blushing a little she nodded, tipping his chin upward to kiss him once more. 

This time their making out was punctuated by curious hips meeting each other, trying to find a rhythm. Initially timid, and then more bold, Cat Noir rocked against her, finally breaking the kiss only to settle at the bolt of her jaw so he could mumble. 

“Can you... like this are you able to...” 

“To?” She breathed, tipping her neck to give him better access. Another breathy laugh against her throat, before his lips caught the shell of her ear. 

“To get off?” He asked softly, teeth scraping her earlobe. 

“Oh.” She murmured, flushing. 

“Exactly that - Oh.” He chuckled, nipping her ear once more. 

“I don’t think so.” Ladybug admitted, a little embarrassed. She wriggled her hips slightly to change the angle, so each time his clothed crotch brushed hers he bumped against a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves she knew well enough having explored on her own. But the sensation was too muffled, stifled by the fabrics in between. “You?” She wondered. 

“Close but not quite.” The frustration in his tone was evident. He kissed her neck, tender, soft, a hint of that wicked tongue that had already so intoxicated her. She wanted more. Wishing there was a way to convey that beyond clunky words she couldn’t find to articulate, she lowered her right hand, squeezing his ass and pressing him closer to her.  

The groan he muffled in her throat in response felt like a reward and her confidence soared. He nipped her neck and her legs widened a little in a conscious effort to bring them closer. Unabashedly rutting against her brought them both closer to a peak, she could feel a dampness between her legs that she’d have been embarrassed about under different circumstances but it only seemed to fuel his attempts. It soon became apparent though, that as delightful as it felt, it wasn’t quite enough for either of them. 

“We really do need to stop.” He sighed against her throat. 

“I don’t want to.” She whined, pouting so adorably he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss that bottom lip. 

“Me.” Another kiss. “Neither. But I...” kiss. “Don’t think you actually want to lose your virginity on a rooftop in the middle of the city centre now, do you?” He wondered, pulling back to assess her expression. 

Ladybug hesitated. 

“I don’t think we even can.” She lamented. His gaze flicked down, and very cautiously he cupped one of her breasts through the suit, causing her back to arch slightly upward. 

“We can.” He mumbled. “I... might have already had this conversation with Plagg.” He bit his lip, as though worried this information was going to get him into trouble. Beneath him, his Lady tipped her head in curiosity. “I’m pretty much the only being in the world that can rip this...” he told her, brushing his clawed thumb over the swell of her breast and marvelling in the reaction it caused, her nipple pebbling to stand to attention. “Won’t hurt Tikki.” He added. “And the kwamis don’t care about... stuff like that.” He clarified. 

Ladybug hummed. 

“And just why were you having a conversation about whether or not we can fuck?” She wondered, mildly amused. He gasped, she’d have believed him to be actually offended if not for the exaggerated expression. 

“My lady! Such vulgarity!” He exclaimed, continuing to pretend to be shocked. She gave him a pointed look. “Okay so I... might have had one too many dreams about this to not be curious.” He murmured in confession. He gave her breast a gentle squeeze and she curled upward to the touch again. 

“Same apply for your suit?” She wondered. He nodded. 

“Yes. We don’t have to...” he added quickly. “I mean I know the roof isn’t that comfortable and it should be romantic... there should be candles and music and...” he began backtracking very rapidly. 

Ladybug threw her head back, surveying the scenario and wrinkling her nose a little. 

“We have the moonlight, the stars... each other.” She summed up, oddly calm. “Seems fairly romantic to me...”. He dipped his head and kissed her, as determined as the first one, but perhaps with a new goal in mind. Before their motivation had simply been to kiss, to show their affections, to cement their relationship. Something altogether more carnal at the forefront of both of their minds headed this kiss, and the kisses that followed it. She heard the neat rip of a claw through fabric, and he backed off momentarily to check with her. Dazedly she realised he’d cut along the middle of her chest, the material sliced neatly down the middle to just below her breasts, but it remained closed like an unbuttoned blouse draped over her. 

She licked her bottom lip carefully before nodding. His glove still provided a barrier, but one hand caressed her bare collarbone and she lost all semblance of thought as each stroke of his paw brought him closer and closer to... his hand slipped under the fabric and (claws carefully retracted) he cupped her bare breast. She’d always been a little curious as to what happened to her clothes when she transformed, her question now answered - apparently she was bare beneath the magical suit. The moan she made startled him slightly. 

“Okay, I might have been able to finish with what we were doing earlier if you’d sounded like that!” He said. She turned a scarlet to rival her damaged clothing. 

“Don't... don’t make it a thing.” She mumbled. 

“Oh it’s definitely a thing!” He nipped at her jaw, sucked a mark at her throat and slowly lapped his way further down. 

She watched, fascinated as he placed kisses over her sternum, the top of her chest, then carefully tugged the fabric open as if it were a shirt. Ladybug wasn’t sure if it was the exposure to the night air or the lustful gaze Cat Noir fixed her with that caused the shiver to shoot down her spine but she was transfixed at the sight. Settling his weight on his knees to free his other hand from where it had been supporting him, he stroked her from her shoulders downward, feeling where magical vinyl switched to soft skin. He silently cursed his gloves, laying his hands on both of her breasts and kneading the flesh carefully. He tested the weight of each of them in his palms, brushed the hardened peaks with his thumbs, and splayed his fingers apart over them.

He seemed fascinated, and Ladybug, while slightly delirious, was curious. 

“Have you ever done this before?” She wondered. The look on his face was strange, for only a moment he seemed to struggle with the question, but then he shook his head. 

“No... you?” He asked carefully. 

“No.” She agreed. 

“Tell me if I’m doing anything wrong?” He asked, and she saw his tail swish behind him in glee. Clearly he was plotting. She gave a cautious nod and his head ducked down. He started at her collarbone, giving her a clear indication of his intentions, kissing slowly downwards until his lips met his fingertips at the apex of her curves, cautiously lowering until his tongue flicked at her nipple. She gasped and he hesitated. 

“G-good.” She insisted. He continued, clearly a little proud of himself as he kissed and swirled his tongue over the peak, enjoying the soft noises of approval now he recognised them for what they were. 

He worried the nipple between his teeth gently and received a whimper in response. He bucked his hips automatically against her. Nudging him to the left a little he took the hint, switching to her other breast to bestow the same attention to it. The chill of the night air on her saliva slicked skin only seemed to remind Ladybug of just how hot the rest of her body was becoming under his ministrations, she was burning up, and her volume increased with every clever pass of his tongue. 

Pulling away with an all too lurid pop as his mouth abandoned her skin, he stared down at her in awe. 

“I love you.” He reminded her. She smiled dazedly. 

“I love you too.” She promised, sliding her hand to the zipper beneath where his bell should be. It was missing. She didn’t think too much on it, given how often he lost it, instead tugging the pull on his zip down and opening the suit as far as was possible, exposing a large V of bare skin down his torso. She let her hands roam freely, exploring his chest with the same reverence he’d offered hers. 

“Getting a little uncomfortably tight here...” he whispered. “Could I...” she nodded with a shade too much enthusiasm, watching as he sat himself up and tore a claw down from the bottom of his zipper. He hadn’t intended the motion itself to be obscene, she was sure of that, but it was effectively unwrapping a gift she hadn’t expected, watching as the hard planes of his stomach and lower abdomen were exposed first, then his erection was on display. 

She’d never actually seen one in person, and while Alya had explained an awful lot, it didn’t compare to the real thing. Her first instinct was to touch, reaching across and taking him in her gloved hand. He hissed and she immediately retracted her hand, eyes wary. His gaze changed briefly, for a moment she suspected he was panicking but he relaxed almost immediately. 

“S...s’fine.” He stammered. “Good. Just... caught me by surprise.” He mumbled, pressing his nose against her neck. Hesitantly she trailed her fingertips downward from his collarbone, offering him a little warning this time, and when her hand wrapped around him for the second time he didn’t object, only rolled his hips into her touch. 

Ladybug was half tempted to ask him to free her hands, to cut the suit away like gloves, but the worry that her fingertip callouses from sewing incidents would give her away prevented her from asking. She wanted to really feel him, but settled for the gloved touch, stroking him until a small damp patch formed at the heel of her glove. 

“Thought that only happened with girls...” she murmured, fascinated as she saw the physical evidence of his arousal. 

“Guys too.” He laughed, his tone a little higher than usual. “Bug... if this is as far as you want to go tonight, that’s fine.” 

“I’m... surprisingly okay with this.” She breathed. “Do you want to stop?” 

“God no. I want...” he groaned as her thumb swept the head of his cock, swallowing hard as the words died on his tongue. 

“What?” She whispered. “What do you want?” He bit his lip, clearly torn between losing himself in the steady rock of her hand and asking for what he really wanted. 

His own hand slid between her legs, massaging the damp fabric gently, and cocking an eyebrow in silent question. The nod she gave dislodged her already rumpled pigtail enough to free half of it from the hair tie, and he tilted his head in curiosity. The hand that wasn’t toying with her rose up and with a flash of his claw her ribbon fell away completely. He repeated the gesture on the other side, seemingly as fascinated by her hair down as he had been by her nudity. 

“We’ll add that to the list of weird turn ons?” She laughed. 

“I like seeing you like this.” He whispered dazedly. “But I think I’d like seeing you like this a little more.” She’d already given him permission, so the motion shouldn’t really have surprised her, but a twist of his hand to gather the fabric over her crotch away from her skin and the swipe of a claw left her completely exposed. 

If there was to be a moment where she changed her mind, she was fairly certain that was it, arms and legs still covered but naked where it mattered, in a surreal sort of reverse bikini beneath his gaze, but his gaze solidified her resolve. His green eyes only held love and admiration and she’d never been more certain.

Fascinated by the sight of her, spread and bare before him, his hand moved to cover her. She flinched and panic shot through his expression, retreating hurriedly. 

“Claws!” She squeaked. He watched as a small bead of blood formed where he’d lain his claw and suddenly looked as though he wanted to do nothing more than run. Even retracted, they couldn’t press against her. The cut was tiny, a pinprick against her outer labia that barely registered as painful, but the implication was clear. “It’s okay, kitty.” She reassured. “Could you cut your glove off?” 

“I hurt you...” he whispered, appalled. She shook her head. 

“It’s fine.” She promised him. He held up his right hand to show her his miraculous.

“Can’t take this off without showing you who I am...” he lamented. 

“You can’t use your left?” She wondered. He just looked awkward, traces of the same terror were creeping in. She kissed him to quell his concerns and slipped her own wrist into his right hand. “Guide me then.” She murmured against his lips, amazed as he fell under her thrall once more, enticed at the prospect. He drew her hand down her body, eyes glued to her like a magnet. 

He watched as she brushed her own gloved fingers against her sex, two slender red clad digits rubbing slowly against her clitoris. Flickering his watch briefly to her face she felt a little enamoured at the look but bit her lip and avoided smirking to cover it as she pushed a finger inside herself. He sat back a little, entranced with the show as she opened herself up. Staring at the slick fingers dipping slowly into her body, he swallowed hard, and she could tell by the way his cock twitched he was fantasising about what it would feel like when he replaced her. She moaned softly and his tongue darted out to caress his bottom lip, at this angle she couldn’t kiss him, focusing instead on working herself into a frenzy under his watchful eye. 

Breathless, aroused, and as ready as she’d ever be, she withdrew her hand and dragged him down by his collar for the kiss she’d been craving. If he was startled by the gesture he didn’t object, rearranging himself into a comfortable position over her as they kissed. Feeling a hard length probing against her intimate area only further fuelled her, pushing her hips to meet his, sliding his shaft along her slit. 

“Please...” she panted against his cheek. 

She’d expected pain, Alya had warned her it could hurt, but was pleasantly surprised at enjoying the odd stretching sensation as he eased his length into her, stalling twice either due to respect or hesitation before seating himself fully. Almost missing the whispered 

“I love you,” against her ear as she adjusted to the oddity of it. 

“I love you too.” She promised. “You can move.” 

“Doesn’t hurt?” He wondered. 

“No. No it’s...” he withdrew his hips experimentally and when he pressed back down her eyes rolled back. “It’s good.” She promised, a little short of breath. With him pinning her in such a way as to surround her, and his cock throbbing inside her to fill her, she felt entirely wrapped up in him, and never wanted the moment to end, chasing him back with her heels against his backside every time he withdrew. 

Soft ahs and ohs punctuated the night air as they found a rhythm for their dance. In battle they synchronised, anticipating each other’s moves in order to succeed: they made love the same way, meeting each other half way with every dip, thrust and kiss in time. Every moan offered was swallowed by their partner, every gasp met with an echo. 

“I have never more than this moment wished that I...” he murmured, nipping her earlobe, teeth dangerously close to her miraculous. “Knew your name.” And oh was she tempted, the way her walls clenched at the suggestion, trying to pull him impossibly further inside her. How fantastic it would sound to hear her own name called in the broken cry of ecstasy. Not that it was an option. 

“Your Lady is fine.” She purred. He groaned, but the frustrated bucking of his hips perhaps a little sharper than before worked for her so she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

“G-good.” She panted. He smirked. 

“Oh really...” He hummed. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Well, in that case...” He pulled away, sitting back on his knees between her legs and dragging her hips up to meet him, tipped backwards so her shoulders still lay against the roof top. “Maybe I should be less of a kitten and more of a panther?” He snapped his hips sharply and she was lost, the sensation entirely different - somehow filling her more and causing her toes to curl. He didn’t aim to hurt, but his strokes were much rougher, perhaps aided by the view. 

Ladybug knew she was on display like this, and aside from a fleeting hope that the news helicopter didn’t decide to fly over, she found she really didn’t mind, enjoying the heat of his gaze she used one of her own hands to cup her bare breast and slid the other down her body, up the slope of his legs to where they joined. The guttural groan that left his throat remained unstifled this time, with no kiss to silence him. 

The angle left her completely at his mercy, and soft declarations of love and whispered adorations fell by the wayside as presumably (in his own words) the panther took over from the kitten. His eyes were glazed and brain apparently completely offline as he slammed into her, her own fingers forming a V to add mounting pressure to her clit as she began to tremble with his efforts. Each lunge took her higher, a peak fast approaching. From stories her friends had told her, she hadn’t actually expected an orgasm her first time - Cat was clearly more attentive than she’d given him credit for. Her skull scraped the concrete below her as her back arched, but any sense of pain was dulled by the sudden shockwave of pleasure that rippled through her. 

Every nerve ending in her body suddenly aflame, she was happy to burn up with it, barely noticing his jaw clenching as his rhythm lost all sense of pacing when her walls gripped him. Her shout as she hit her peak was met with a subdued grunt and a pulse from within. Dazedly, he slowed down as they twitched and heaved breaths stolen by noises of the moment. 

“Should probably have pulled out...” he murmured belatedly. 

“I’m on the pill.” She said in breathless reassurance. “But condoms next time.” To be doubly safe. He collapsed beside her, arms coming round her waist to tug her into a cuddle.  

The harsh breath against the junction of her neck and shoulder was the only warmth, the night air suddenly nipping at her exposed skin. All in all, she was unashamed. A rooftop was probably not ideal for a first time, but it seemed oddly appropriate for them: and certainly beat the back seat of a car like some of her peers, or a closet like Alya and Nino. Smiling to herself she allowed herself the contentment. She was with someone she loved and that mattered more than location. 

“Ladybugs should fix our suits.” He whispered, nuzzling her, apparently more bothered by their public nudity than she was. 

“Gimme a minute.” She groaned, shuffling further into his embrace. He bit her earlobe softly. “Why do you keep doing that?” 

“Forgive me a little affection, my lady.” He complained.

“Not mad, Chaton, just watch the earrings.” She hummed, not moving from her position to toss her yo-yo and call for a lucky charm. 

Since turning 18, she could perform the skill multiple times without her costume timing out. Cat Noir’s adult powers had kicked in months before her own. Strange that until that day she hadn’t realised he was older than her. A red and black spotted spanner fell into her hand and she threw it lazily into the air without questioning what a spanner could imply. 

“Miraculous Ladybug.” She whispered. The sensation of a tiny flurry of bugs knitting her shredded costume back together over over-sensitive skin was bizarre, and one she supposed she’d have to get used to given their secret identities. Her loose hair returned to pristine ribboned bunches. 

She leaned back, against his chest, content to relax. She found him oddly silent, but didn’t dwell on it, warm, happy and safe in his arms until a cold voice emanated from her back. 

“That wasn’t what I wanted.” 

“Hm?” She turned round in his arms and was horrified to see a pink butterfly mask over his eyes, his head hung low. She struggled a little, only able to leave the ring of his embrace as he was distracted. Scrabbling away she gasped in horror. 

Because unless she’d missed a butterfly in the last two minutes, Cat Noir had been akumatised for the entire affair. Her blood ran cold at the notion. 

“I’ll get them, Hawkmoth. Although I think our cover is blown. Pity.” Cat Noir’s tone was mechanical, as the mask faded away. Instead he smirked. “Come on now, Bug. I don’t know why you’re so surprised I already told you I’m in love with someone else.” Her eyes widened as she realised the extent of his lies. 

“Cat!” She hissed, eyes roaming his body to try find the affected object. 

“Hurts doesn’t it? Difference is I never let it impact our friendship and you... well the world just crumbles around you and what you want doesn’t it?” He mocked her, twirling his baton. 

The bell around his neck was jet black, and belatedly she realised why it had been missing during their romp - he must have pocketed it so she wouldn’t notice the discolouration. Her stomach sank, the Ladybugs had put it back. Cat Noir didn’t love her - he still wanted the other girl. She’d lost her virginity on a rooftop, to a boy who wouldn’t even remember, and would now likely try kill her to get his hands on her earrings... and worse Hawkmoth had likely seen everything. 

“Cat Noir... please don’t do this.” Ladybug begged, wondering how to get to his bell - if she’d realised during... 

“Cat Noir isn’t home right now. We don’t have to fight, my lady.” He grinned. “Just give me your miraculous and we’ll forget this whole mess, go for round two, with a lot less clothing?” He suggested. She very nearly threw up, but anticipated the lunge before it came, sidestepping it neatly. 

She wasn’t so lucky with the next swing, his baton smacked hard against her skull, sending her reeling backwards. Impervious to physical damage didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, as she went from post coital bliss to fighting for her life at breakneck speed.

“Lucky charm!” A lasso fell into her hand, bewildering her - what good was a rope, she already had her yo yo... unless she needed both at the same time? One to restrain her attacker, the other to purify the akuma? 

“Kinky.” He grinned. 

“Shut it.” She growled, dodging another blow. 

“You’ll have to gag me next time. Oh right... there won’t be a next time.” He cackled. 

A swift knock to the back of her knees sent her backward onto her butt. 

“Been a while since you and I tumbled. Tonight not included of course. I’ve got stronger since then.” Cat Noir smiled - there was no warmth in it, his playful demeanour chilling and all too familiar. “And I’m pretty sure if it comes to it... I can beat you. Blow for blow.” He winked at the double entendre and she managed to catch his ear with the outward swing of her yo yo. 

“Keep dreaming, kitty.” She growled, rolling away and winding the lasso around her arm. 

She felt more like a mouse being hunted as she took his words on board. Physically... he probably was stronger than her now. He was a powerful pawn for Hawkmoth, and she couldn’t risk it coming down to a physical fight. She wondered if Cat had been warning her of that as she made her retreat. Having battled Cat Blanc once, she has always assumed Cat Noir would be visually obvious if he was akumatised again, but even Cat Blanc had fought his control enough to warn her. Until that pink mask had shown up, she’d really had no clue. Unless... when he’d hurt her? When he’d been unsure of what she wanted? That look that had crossed his face... when Hawkmoth’s control was weakest? She felt nauseous.

The night gave him the advantage in a chase, his black suit camouflaging him where hers made her stand out like a red rag to a bull. Even as she fled her mind whirred. The moment she lost sight of him, she knew she was in trouble, she could be seen a mile off and he was almost certainly slinking silently around close by. Staying still meant he could creep up on her, so she opted to run, but no sooner had her arm raised to launch her yo yo to the next rooftop it was caught and twisted so sharply she knew it would have broken clean in two if she’d been out of costume. Her face met the bricks of the chimney she’d slipped behind for cover, and her lasso was yanked from her grasp in the moment it took her to recover. 

She had barely enough time to turn as his imposing figure left her back before the loop tightened around her, binding her to the chimney stack. 

“You know your scared face is a lot similar to your O face.” Cat Noir said casually, returning to the front of her vision, adding a second loop as she struggled with the first. Her arms were bound at her elbows and testing her restraint proved there was no wriggle room. She swallowed hard, ignoring the insult. 

“Cat Noir, don’t do this. You don’t want him to get my earrings.” She panicked as he approached. The ease with which he set his elbow above her head so he was crowding her made her nervous. 

“Honestly I’m kind of looking forward to seeing who you are.” Cat Noir shrugged, dismissing the notion easily. “And wondering whether I’m allowed another go before my conscience kicks back in...” he purred.

“Don't fucking touch me!” She hissed, eyes wide. The thought of him forcing himself on her, him still akumatised and powerful and her without her earrings or the ability to fight back made her sick. 

“Language!” He smirked. “Disappointed in you, Bug... you gave it up so easily the first time. Hawkmoth only sent me out to make out with you and swipe the stones...” he reached up and traced a claw from her lips to her ear.

“What?” She whispered in disbelief. 

“Having sex was your idea. Good luck living with that.” He laughed as she realised he was right. He’d suggested stopping several times, perhaps a little more Cat Noir than Hawkmoth in those moments. She’d played right into it... the shame welled in her stomach and clearly crossed her face because he grinned. “Poor kitty, set out for patrol an innocent virgin and wound up jumped by a girl in love who couldn’t keep her legs closed.” 

“Fuck off.” She growled, fury overwhelming the fear. Because he had a point - one way or another the akuma controlling him would be gone soon. How was she supposed to explain this to Cat Noir... or whoever he was under the suit if it came to losing their miraculous, which was looking more and more likely. 

His claw slid behind the metal back of her earring. One tug and it would be off, but he paused, his breath on her neck. 

“Thought you’d put up more of a fight.” He purred.

“My hands are tied. You want to fight me like a man do it, I’m no fun to you like this.” She hissed. “Best I could do is try talk you down and that’s never worked before.” 

“No, it never has, has it.” He mused, his free hand spreading across her collarbone. “Try anyway. For the fun of it?” He grinned. 

“You do this... and that’s it for us. No more Ladybug and Cat Noir. Probably no more Paris if Hawkmoth gets his way. That’s really what you want?” 

“You and I are already broken. If you’d have told me you loved me a year or so ago everything would have been perfect. You waited until you’d lost me... You couldn’t just keep your mouth shut and let me move on?” He sounded genuinely irritated, as Hawkmoth tapped into his real emotions and the hand on her chest tensed. She felt his claws piercing the suit in threat of what was to come.

“If I’d said it any earlier it wouldn’t have been true. I didn’t know you’d moved on.” She whispered sadly. 

“Well I did.” He huffed. “You waited too long. This... this is all on you, Bugaboo.” She knew it was Hawkmoth in control, that he didn’t really mean that. The hurt was real though. He was using Cat Noir’s pain and frustration against them. Ladybug hated herself a little in that moment. If he really had been akumatised after setting off for patrol it was likely his anxiety for meeting up for another awkward patrol that triggered the butterfly. It was her fault. 

“And you. You’re too scared to ask that girl you like out.” She panicked, going for the low blow as she wriggled to try free herself from the rope. She could just about reach her yo yo if the ropes were only a tiny bit looser... “What if she gets over you while you’re waiting?” She pondered. 

“Pushing me into the arms of another woman?” He wondered. Briefly she thought she saw control back on his features, but it flickered and died immediately. 

“Did it occur to you that I want you to be happy more than I want you?” She asked him. 

“Yeah talking’s really not working is it, my lady.” He laughed, tugging the top of her suit. She flinched as she realised he was tearing it once more, running a razor sharp claw down her chest. This was worse. Somehow it was worse. Tears sprang to her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She wouldn’t give Hawkmoth the satisfaction. “Never did work before. Normally this is the part where you do something clever with your yo yo.” He whispered. His claw had travelled down between her breasts to her stomach and for a moment she thought he was going to slice straight through her skin. Then the tiny blade met the rope binding her and for just a split second longer than before she saw it: 

The panic in his eyes that told her he was fighting his control. His claw bit into the rope, loosening it just a fraction. He was giving her an out. Rebelling as much as he could. The half an inch of extra room let her get her yo yo into her hand and without hesitation she shot it upward, the string looping around his neck. Yanking him down hard, admittedly probably harder than she should have. He yelped in shock, green eyes bugging as he was effectively strangled, he tightened his clawed grip on the lasso, causing it to snap around her waist. 

Freeing herself she did her best act. 

“Oh kitty! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you!” She bent to feign helping him remove the yo yo string from his throat and snatched the bell, crumpling the metal ball in her hand and releasing the butterfly as Cat Noir gasped for breath. He fainted as she recalled her yo yo to free him from his bind - having not tensed it enough to kill him. Not in his suit anyway. Unconscious he was no threat to her. 

“Time to de-evilize!” She captured the escaping butterfly and whirled her yo yo until it glowed brightly and the pure white butterfly escaped. 

Ladybug didn’t wait - there was a chance she’d really hurt him, and her suit was still ripped. Fighting an akuma half topless was a new one. She tossed her shredded lasso in the air. 

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!” She yelled. 

The flurry of Ladybugs corrected her wardrobe malfunction and whirled around Cat Noir, fixing any damage she’d inflicted. He blinked slowly back to himself and she took a step back, petrified. 

“Ugh...” his hand flew to his hair as he looked around slowly. “I’m... I'm here already...” he sounded confused. Ladybug couldn’t catch her breath, feeling like the air had been punched from her lungs. He spotted her and his eyes widened.

“Ladybug there’s something really important I need to tell you!” He said, clueless to her panic. “Hawkmoth. He’s Gabriel Agreste!” He breathed.