#It’s a shame that bread puns are always so CRUMBY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angryinternetduck · 3 years

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oh to stay

About 4,900 words on cold beds, waltzing butterflies, and stupid rules. Harry doesn’t do relationships, neither do you; he’s a coward (but not really), and you are too. Lots of crumby bread puns. Alcohol consumption and mentions of cheating. Friends with benefits to lovers. Enjoy!

The bed’s cold.

You shouldn’t be surprised, not really.

But part of you was hoping.

You started hoping a lot recently, you notice, and it’s kind of becoming a problem. You and Harry are friends. With benefits, of course, but friends don’t cuddle. Friends don’t wake each other up with kisses and giggles, and friends don’t spend sleepy mornings in bed with each other.

You’re comfortable under the duvet, if you’re honest, if not a little lonely. You curl into yourself, wishing despite everything you had a warm body to lay with, and close your eyes. Harry’s behind your eyelids, of course, all dimples and green eyes and soft kisses, and you open your eyes again.

Mornings are interesting. They come with a bit of regret, a touch of satisfaction, and a shitload of loneliness. And the bed’s cold. It’s always cold. He’s never there. He wakes up early and runs, or works, or does yoga.

He’s so good at leaving, at being gone before you open your eyes, that you sometimes wonder if he even sleeps with you at all. Sometimes, you think he waits until you’re dead asleep and then runs to his own room.

Then you wake up in the middle of the night with his arms around you and realize he’s just an early riser. Despite yourself, those are the moments you love best. There’s something calming about being in his arms, about feeling his chest rise and fall behind you, about feeling his hand under yours.

It’s a shame neither of you do relationships.

It takes a while, but you get out of bed eventually. You eye one of his discarded shirts on the floor, tempted to break one of the rules, and then decide against it and pull on your clothes from the night before.

The floor’s cold beneath your feet. It’s hardwood, freezing, and you regret not wearing socks before remembering you wore heels last night, without socks. You scowl. They were uncomfortable. You’d only worn them because you’d gone out, hoping to get laid, hoping to get your mind off of him.

Him, who’d called you, whose bed you ended up waking up in.

Did a great job getting your mind off of him, huh.

He’s standing at the stove, flipping an egg. An image flashes through your head of creeping up behind him, hugging him from behind, feeling his warmth, kissing his cheek, his neck, him spinning around and kissing you back and dancing with you and -

He turns around. Smiles. “Morning,” he says.

You swallow thickly and smile back. “Morning.”

“Sleep well?” His smile tugs into a smirk, and you sigh. He asks that every morning. You were so flustered that first time, stumbling over your words, completely at a loss, and he’d asked that. You’d frozen, stared at him, eyes wide…

Then you’d fainted.

He was so nice about it, too, which almost makes it worse. If he’d been a prick, if he’d just dropped you and never spoke to you again, it would’ve been easier. But no, he just acted like the perfect gentleman he was.

He just gently woke you up, made sure you were okay, gave you water. Laughed when you apologized. Said it wasn’t your fault he was such a damn charmer, said he’d love to make you faint again, as long as you did it closer so he could catch you in his arms.

Now, you sigh and sit at the island and answer, “Never better,” like every morning.

He slides an egg on your plate without you asking. It’s just how you like it, and a flash of irrational anger surges through you. “Look nice,” he says quietly, and you look up. His back is towards you. Coward.

“Thanks,” you say.

“Out last night?”

You bite your lip, sliding your egg around your plate. “Yeah,” you say.

He turns back around and comes around the island. Sits down. “Anything interesting?”

You look up at him, send him a smirk of your own. “I’d call last night interesting,” you purr, and he laughs. “Fuckin’ hell. I meant before that, genius.” You put your elbow on the island, prop your head in your hand. “Hm. No.”

“Not a thing?”

“What, jealous?” you ask, wiggling your brows.

He scoffs. “Of what?”

You shrug, looking down at your plate. “You know. All the beautiful boys I’m picking up.”

“You mean… me?”

“Oh, please,” you say, laughing despite yourself.

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel his gaze on you. It takes more self-control than you’d like to admit to keep your gaze on your plate for only a few seconds, and then you look up. He’s looking at you, all right, green eyes intense, bottom lip between his teeth.

And he’s totally unabashed when you catch him. He just smiles.

“You’re staring, Styles,” you sigh.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs back. He stands up, pushing his chair back with a squeak. His plate’s barely touched. He puts it to the side and hops up onto the counter. “Going home?” he asks, legs swinging, even though he knows the answer.

“Yeah.” You stand up, come around the counter. “Looks nice,” you go on, thumbing the top of your outfit, “but uncomfortable as fuck.” His eyes follow your fingers, drift over you, come back up to your eyes, a shade darker than his usual green.

You can see him struggle, see the offer on the tip of his tongue.

Wanna stay? Borrow something of mine?

The unasked questions hang in the air for a second.

He’s sitting right next to the sink. Slowly, you step closer to him. Closer, closer, even closer. Soon you’re close enough to kiss. Close enough for his hands, folded between his legs, to graze your dress, your stomach. His finger twitches, but he doesn’t move. “Kiss me, Styles,” you whisper.

He holds your gaze, the challenge dying in his eyes as he loses composure.

He’s not breathing.

Neither are you.

He closes his eyes.

You inhale shallowly, let your plate slide into the sink next to him. “I’ll call an Uber,” you tell him quietly, and you see his jaw clench. A bit of satisfaction races through you because you want him to be annoyed. Want him to feel the frustration you feel every time you look at him.

Because he could offer. He could give you a t-shirt. He could let you stay, could kiss you, could kiss you all morning and all afternoon and break all the rules. Every single one of them, with just a few words.

One word, actually.

Stay, he could say, softly, breathlessly, and you would.

But he doesn’t.

So you don’t.

***

You’re not supposed to wear his clothes.

He’s not supposed to kiss you in the morning. Or ever, really, except at night.

No two consecutive nights of sleeping together.

No staying.

It’s surprising, really, how long you’ve lasted. It’s been a few weeks, and not a single rule’s been broken. A few loopholes here and there - leaving then coming back rather than staying, for example…

But it’s worked. It’s worked. Despite what your friends have said, you’re not dependent on each other. You can go more than a day without seeing each other, can kiss other people. It’s not a relationship.

You leave his house crying sometimes, sure, but you’re not in a relationship.

And that’s really all that matters.

***

You use a loophole and go back to Harry’s place after a few hours. More than a few. You’re productive. Kind of. You get a few things done, stare at the ceiling, scroll through social media. It’s pretty late when you go back.

By the time the two of you become bored of the TV, the sun’s set. It’s dark outside, and cold, but you follow Harry into the hallway without a sweatshirt. “Think we should move to Alaska or summat so we can see the stars better,” Harry murmurs as he pushes open the big door out onto the roof.

“I’ll get you a telescope for your birthday,” you reply.

“And tickets for an Alaskan cruise.”

You look up towards the sky, craning your neck. “Yeah,” you agree, smiling. “And tickets for an Alaskan cruise.” Harry sits down, stretching to reach for a ratty tennis ball. It’s against the wall, right where you left it a few days ago. Gently, he rolls it forward, and it hits your foot and rolls back to him.

A while ago, probably a few years back, somebody left a tennis ball on the roof of Harry’s apartment complex. It’s old and fraying and more brownish than green. A few weeks ago, Harry brought you up to the roof, and a few days ago, you found the old tennis ball.

“Would you?” you ask, sitting down.

He bounces the ball towards you. “Would I what?”

You smile, wiggle your ring finger. “Marry me.”

He grins. “Buy me a ring and I’ll say ‘I do.’”

“No,” you say, bouncing the ball back. “Move to Alaska.”

Bounce. “Of course.”

Bounce. “That fast?”

“Yeah.”

You bite your lip. It’s quiet for a minute, both of you concentrating on the ball.

“Italy,” Harry says.

“Spaghetti,” you say back.

Harry shrugs. “I’d move there.”

“For the spaghetti.”

“And the stars.”

“And the romance.”

Harry doesn’t throw the ball hard enough, and it bounces twice. “I’d move to Paris, too.”

“For the baguettes.” You copy his throw. Bounce, bounce, catch.

“But not the romance.”

“Just the baguettes.”

“Bread above all else.”

“Did you love her?”

Harry looks away from the ball, his green eyes flicking up to your face.

The ball bounces past him.

Harry blinks, and then stands up to go and get it. You watch him, watch his back, biting your lip because you’re kind of regretting saying anything. He’s mentioned a girl. He was open about it from the beginning.

No relationships, he said, smiling. Been there, done that. No thanks.

She probably broke his heart.

You’d feel bad for him if he’d tell you anything more than, We were great. Let’s watch a movie. As is, though, he’s said nothing, and your curiosity is beginning to overwhelm your sympathy.

When he comes back, he fiddles with the ball for a second before bouncing it back.

“No,” he says.

You toss the ball lightly, letting it bounce once, twice, three times… Too light. It’s rolling by the time it gets to him. He bounces it in front of him, and then throws it, high. Bounce, bounce - toss. It arcs up into the air, and you look up to catch it before it hits you in the nose.

“Really,” you say, because it’s been a few seconds and he’s still not said anything.

Harry bounces the ball normally, and you catch it. “I liked her,” he says.

“I should hope so.” You bounce it back, normally, and he does the same.

You’re back on cadence.

A few seconds go by.

“Maybe I did,” he says quietly. “Love her.”

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

“I tried,” he says.

Bounce. Bounce.

“There is no try,” you say. “Only do.”

“Maybe I tried too hard.”

“If it’s not there, it’s not there.”

Harry frowns at you. “How would you know, huh?”

“Because if it’s there…” Bounce. “It’s there.” Bounce. “So the opposite must be true too.”

“And you’ve been in love.” He sounds skeptical.

You smile. “Maybe.”

“Being in love with yourself doesn’t count.”

“Sure it does.”

He’s smiling, now, not even looking at the ball, just grinning at you, blinding you. “Going from mirror to mirror in your room doesn’t count as speed dating.” You scoff, bounce the ball too hard, but he keeps his gaze on you, steady, laughing, as he reaches up and catches it.

“Saying I love you to your reflection in the microwave doesn’t count as heartfelt declarations over dinner,” he adds on. You laugh incredulously and say, “You’re just on fire tonight, aren’t you?”

Harry grins. “Call me a slider, ‘cause I’m on a roll.”

“I’ll leave,” you warn, giving him a look.

“Don’t be so sour, dough.” He giggles in glee, totally pleased with himself.

“First you’re insulting my self-love -”

“You mean self-loaf?”

“And now you’re on about bread!”

“Hey, you started it with the baguette talk,” Harry laughs.

You sigh, trying in vain to hide your smile, and catch the ball. “Come on,” you say, standing up, “it’s getting late.” Harry follows you, still grinning. “What, wanna go to bread early tonight?”

“Shut uppp,” you whine.

Harry leans in, catching the door, and says, “Don’t worry, darling, you’re still the apple of my rye…” You groan, stepping away and starting down the stairs. “God, you’re impossible.” Harry skips down the steps behind you. “What, my jokes are too upper crust for you?”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Sense?” Harry echoes. “If you want sense, I can give you some… pumpernickel!”

“You know where you can shove your pumpernickel -”

“What, between my two buns?”

A laugh slips out of you. You’re at his apartment now, and you turn around and lean back against the door, smiling at him wordlessly for just a second, admiring him, because sometimes that’s just what you have to do when you’re in front of Harry Styles.

“I need to go,” you finally say.

Harry pouts, leaning in, and he presses kisses against your neck. You close your eyes, resting your head against the door, exposing more skin, sighing softly. Then he murmurs, “But I’ve gotta mayonnaise your buns…”

“Jesus!” you exclaim, laughing as you’re snapped out of it, and you gently push his shoulders away. “No, you can’t, Harry, we can’t.” He’s still smiling, and he kisses your nose, and you feel like that should be against one of the rules, and he says, “What, too many crumby puns?”

“I love your crumby puns,” you say impulsively, and then you frown, looking down, because you’ll kiss his nose too if you keep looking at those green eyes of his. “No, Harry, I - I stayed over last night.”

A pause.

You look up.

“Oh,” he says, and then he pulls away. “Oh, right.”

You clear your throat, and say, “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” he echoes, nodding. “Bye,” he says.

You smile, and you can feel it not reaching your eyes, and you say, “Bye.”

As you walk away, you wonder for a moment what would’ve happened if you told him why you don’t do relationships, rather than asking him about why he doesn’t do them. You wonder how he would’ve reacted if you told him you don’t do relationships because the only person you’d consider having a relationship with is the only person who doesn’t do relationships.

Too late now, you think, and then you realize you’re crying as you leave his house.

Well. At least you’re not in a relationship.

***

He tastes like vanilla. Feels like heaven. Kisses like it’s his sole purpose in life.

His scent, taste, touch, lingers on you for hours, days, decades after On nights. The vivid memory of his fingers, tongue, body, leaves you breathless, crying, blissful, through days, Off nights, lonely mornings.

Tonight’s an Off night. You stayed over last night. It’s beginning to just be every other night, which wasn’t exactly the intention of the rule in the first place, but you really just can’t bring yourself to care.

You can’t even bring yourself to care that what’s happening right now is basically - well, it’s basically sex. You’re at some club, bar, whatever, and he’s all over you, you’re all over him, and he’s so close you can feel his breath, feel his want, in waves on your skin.

He doesn’t kiss you though.

Because that would break a rule.

It’s tantalizing, really, because his lips ghost over your skin and his hands are everywhere and nowhere at once and you just need him to touch you. He’s simultaneously overwhelming your senses and depriving you of him and his hands and his lips and his touch.

You’re pretty hammered by the time the two of you are back at your apartment. The high’s wearing down, though, and you can feel all the energy seeping out of you. Your eyelids start to feel very heavy… like they’re being weighed down by little butterflies, tiny blue wings fluttering, teeny insect legs doing dances on your eyelids…

“Help me out, darling,” Harry murmurs, and you sluggishly maneuver your limbs to help him slide off your outfit. You giggle at the feel of his fingers slipping off your bra to tug a soft t-shirt over your head.

“If you wanted to get me naked, Styles,” you say, stumbling over your words, “all you had to do was ask…” Harry sighs, pulling your covers up towards your chest. “Don’t move unless you have to throw up,” he says. “I’m gonna get water and… medicine, or something, for tomorrow.”

“Don’t go,” you whine, pouting, and Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

“No…”

He’s back before you know it, and you hear him set something down on your nightstand, and the butterflies are tap dancing and apparently they have some industrial glue or something because all you want to do is shut your eyes and sleep for hours… and hours…

Harry stays for a second, and you want to look at him, examine him, watch his facial expressions and study the way he looks at you and decide whether or not it’s the same way you look at him, but those butterflies are relentless.

Your voice is just a whisper when the floor creaks because Harry’s moving and you say, “Please stay,” because Harry can save you from those butterflies, right? “I can’t, love,” Harry says, and you want to point out that if he can call you love, he can certainly stay for a few hours and save you from the butterflies.

But that’s a lot of words, so you say, “Please,” instead.

“Darling…”

The butterflies do a jig. You open your eyes when they bounce, relieving the pressure on your lids for a moment, and your eyes are fluttering but you can just make out Harry in front of you. He looks conflicted.

“Just for a second,” you say.

“But last night…”

“I won’t try anything if you won’t,” you say, half-smiling tiredly, because you know you’re starting to convince him, and the prospect of Harry touching you softly, comfortingly, sweetly, is making those butterflies fly all the way to your tummy and suddenly you have the energy to smile.

He sighs, heavily, and you smile more because he walks around and the bed dips as he crawls in next to you. You feel his arms around you. You turn to face him, because nearly all the butterflies are in your tummy now and you don’t feel like your eyes are glued shut anymore and you wanna see those green eyes of his.

“Hi,” you say.

Harry closes his eyes. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I’m not tired anymore.” You want to see his eyes.

“Yeah, but I am.”

“Let’s have coffee so you’re not.”

“Tomorrow.”

There’s a second of silence. He’s falling asleep. You have the sudden urge to kiss his nose. It’s right in front of you, he’s right in front of you, and you study him the way you wanted to earlier except now his eyes are closed.

He’s so pretty. You want to kiss him.

“Harry?” you whisper.

“Hmm.”

“I’m sad.”

He smiles.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to smile when someone tells you they’re sad.”

“My bad.”

“Yeah, your bad, Styles. Make it up to me. Kiss me.” You make a kissy noise.

The smile disappears, and he opens his eyes. He’s frowning now, and a flash of panic shoots through you because he’s mad now and he’ll leave, and you hurry, backtrack, “I mean - I mean…” You sniffle. “I don’t know what I mean.”

“You don’t mean anything,” Harry says, “because you’re drunk.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Oh, don’t do this,” he mutters, sitting up.

You sit up too, reaching for his arm, and you say, “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t -”

He looks at you, and then his gaze softens, and then you feel tears on your cheeks and you realize you’re crying and you’re crying because you want to kiss him but apparently he thinks you’re crying because he was sharp with you and -

“Don’t cry,” he says, whispering, and he leans forward and thumbs away the tears on your cheeks. The butterflies waltz across your eyelids, and you close your eyes and lean into his touch and he’s cupping your cheek and he says, “I’m sorry.”

Then he breaks a rule.

He kisses you. Gently, on the cheek, where your tears were.

You melt into him. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose.

“Don’t go,” you whisper.

He holds you close, kisses you once on the lips. “I won’t.”

***

The bed’s cold.

Surprise, surprise.

Rubbing at your throbbing temples, you gulp down the medicine and water he’d left you.

After a few more moments of lying motionless on the bed, you sit up with a groan. You wonder where Harry is. Perhaps he’s doing yoga. Or cooking breakfast. Maybe he’s baking cookies. Who knows. Not you, certainly.

The floor’s cold. You scowl at it. Fuck Harry Styles and his pristine hardwood floors.

You walk towards the kitchen, getting your annoyed frown ready for when he asks if you slept well. You debate hugging him instead of replying like normal. Maybe you’ll kiss him. Or just tell him you love him.

Smiling lazily at the thought, you step into the kitchen.

It’s empty.

Your smile disappears.

Probably doing yoga, then. There’s a cup of coffee on the counter, though, so you grab it before doing anything else. You sigh, wrapping your fingers around it. It’s still warm. You take a sip and go to wipe some crumbs off the counter.

Then you see the note.

Out. See you later. xxH.

“Oh,” you say, out loud.

It’s not quite unusual, per se, but you’re more than a little surprised. Also, you’re wondering how recently he left if the coffee’s still hot. You’re a bit irked you didn’t wake up just a few minutes earlier. Would’ve been nice to catch him in the act.

You take another sip of the coffee, studying the note. His handwriting’s nice.

Sighing, you turn around and walk back upstairs. Your head still hurts.

After getting dressed, you drag yourself into the blinding sunlight and into an Uber. You stare at your phone the entire way home. It doesn’t ring, or chime, or vibrate, or do anything more than reflect your frowning face back at you.

Actually, it does light up a few times, but nothing’s from the right person. That only makes you more annoyed. Your head hurts really badly. He doesn’t text, or call, or FaceTime, the entire day.

Or the next.

You text him a few times, call him a few more.

Nothing.

Zero. Zilch. Nada.

Until a week later, when he knocks on your door.

***

He smiles at you when you open the door. “Hi,” he says. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you say, hesitantly, and you step back to let him in. He walks in and sits on your couch. He fidgets for a second, and then stands up again. He starts to pace. You watch him, waiting for him to talk.

“I went on a date last week,” he finally says.

Your brows jump. For a second, a billion thoughts rush through your head - what about the ex, was it just you, if he wanted to date why didn’t he ask you, was this the first time he’d been with somebody else since being with you, why the hell was he telling you this, were you the only one going about life as if the “relationship” was exclusive even though it wasn’t, what the fuck is going on - and then you reply, “Congratulations.”

“The night after… I left you. It was a little weird.”

Swallowing thickly, you ask, “So… did it go well?”

Harry frowns looking at the floor. “Yeah,” he says.

“Didja take ‘em home?”

Harry’s smile fades, and he looks up at you. “Er - yeah.”

“And you got laid?”

Now Harry’s frowning. “Yeah.”

“That’s great. Why’ve you been radio silent?”

“Because…” He fades off. “I don’t know.”

You pause for a second, not sure what to say.

Harry bites his lip. “You’re upset,” he says.

Stunned, you blink. “What?” you laugh incredulously.

“You’re upset,” Harry says again.

“Am I?” you ask, sarcasm dripping from your words. “Am I, really? Tell me more. Explain my emotions. ‘cause shit, Styles, apparently you’ve got all your emotions figured out - I mean, damn, you’re so fucking figured out that you can kiss away my tears one night and fuck someone else the next. Your versatility is to be fucking admired, Harry.”

There’s a beat of silence.

He closes his eyes, puts his head in his hands. “I wasn’t even gonna tell you,” he mutters. “I was just gonna be a prat and move on and never talk to you again because technically we’re not dating - I mean - not technically - we’re not dating, we’re not -” He coughs. “We’re not dating,” he repeats weakly.

He looks up again. “But then I couldn’t,” he says. “I couldn’t…” He laughs lowly, wryly. “I couldn’t stay away from you, as cliche as that sounds. I wasn’t even gonna come here, I was gonna - I don’t know, I was gonna… plan it out, make it special, show you I fucked up, but I… I was driving home and then I turned onto your street and suddenly…”

He takes a deep breath and then tells you, “I’m sorry.”

You soften. “Yeah,” you say.

He starts to say something and stops. He reaches out, then pulls away. He turns around, running a hand through his hair, and then clears his throat and sits down on the floor. He leans on the couch, slides the coffee table aside, and pulls a small bouncy ball out of his pocket. You watch, confused, and then he tosses the ball at you. You catch it just before it hits your TV.

“I used to get these at the dentist,” he says, holding up his hands for you to throw it back.

“Harry,” you say, frowning at him.

He sighs again and puts his hands down. You watch him, fiddling with the ball.

“She cheated on me,” he says after a second.

You bite your lip, and then sit down and gently bounce the ball towards him.

“I loved her,” he says.

He bounces the ball back at you.

You catch it.

“I love you more,” Harry says.

You swallow thickly, and then you bounce the ball back.

“I figure… I figure you can’t cheat on me if we’re not in a relationship.”

The bouncy ball is smaller than the tennis ball. It’s harder to catch.

You finally say something. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that,” Harry says.

Bounce, bounce, bounce. The ball is pink and blue. It’s mesmerizing.

“I wanna kiss you,” Harry says quietly, and when you look up, his eyes are on the ball still, and his ears are tinged pink. “I wanna kiss you all the time. ‘specially when you smile. I wanna kiss you when you laugh. When you cry. Right now.”

You don’t know what to say. So you settle on, “Thanks.”

He glances up at you, smiling, finally, and it’s nice to see. “You’re welcome.”

You bounce the ball towards him, and he catches it. Then he stands up. He walks over to you and offers you his hand. You take it, and stand up. “I wanna break a rule,” you whisper. He smiles, giving a small shrug. “Don’t have to.”

You raise a brow.

“Can’t break a rule if it’s not there in the first place,” he says.

“Right,” you say, a smile growing on your lips. “So no more rules.”

Harry bites his lip. He looks nervous. “The rules are no more.”

You smile. “It’s official.”

“You’re smiling,” Harry whispers, leaning in.

“Wanna kiss me?”

“Mhmm.”

You lean in, too, smiling more. “Well, what’s stopping you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Harry says quietly, and he kisses you.

***

The bed… is warm.

You’re warm.

And smiling.

Your head’s on Harry’s chest, and the first thing you see when you open your eyes is his moth tattoo. He’s awake, or at least you assume he is by the way his hand gently traces shapes on your bare shoulder.

“How long’ve you been up?” you mumble, looking up at him.

“Hours,” Harry whispers, kissing your forehead.

“How kind of you to stay with me.”

Harry kisses you again, and you giggle and let him shift you so you’re on top of him. “Better make it up to me,” Harry says with a smirk. You lean down, moving your hips slightly, and nibble on his ear. “Excited to see me, are you?”

“Excited to finally be able to move,” Harry replies, pressing kisses along your shoulder. “My arm’s fallen asleep.” You laugh, kissing him more, unable to keep the smile off your face, and he’s smiling too, and you laugh and kiss him and you decide to stay.

***

okay this has been in my drafts forever lmao but here it is!!! hope you like it!!! if you did, a reblog and some feedback would be amazing! thanks for reading 💜

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mr-hawkmoth · 7 years

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Black Cats and Croissants

Here is the commission I did for the wonderfully amazing @squirrellygirlart !!!!

You have her to thank for this lovely piece!!! This was honestly so much fun to write I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have ^_^

WARNING: There is some SIN- but I will warn you beforehand and mark where it ends as well.

Chat’s week wasn’t going very well. The boy had been run ragged with photo shoots and akuma attacks. And with the new diet his father had him on he was absolutely starving! ‘It’s almost swimsuit season Adrien,’ His father had said. Hungry and exhausted Chat was not up for another akuma attack, let alone one against Marinette.

It had all started with Chloe (didn’t it always?) Marinette, sweet, kind Marinette who’s parents made the best pastries Adrien had ever tasted, had brought croissants to school for her friends. She looked about as tired as he felt but despite that she smiled as she went to give her friends the sweet buttery gift. Adrien was certain he could hear his own heart break when Chloe came barreling in, knocking Marinette and the delicate pastries to the ground. Chloe smirked down at Marinette as she made a point of walking across the breaded treats, squashing them beneath her feet. Marinette’s face flushed red with anger as she stood with her hands in shaking fists at her sides. Marinette opened her mouth and a loud long irritating noise covered her words from Adrien’s ears. The long drawn out noise was Nino making a constant high pitched hum as he covered Adrien’s ears with his hands. Marinette’s words weren’t for innocent ears, he had told Adrien later on. Whatever Marinette had said landed her in the headmaster’s office where she was sent home from school suspended from the rest of the day’s classes. From then on Adrien had been traipsing across the city as Chat Noir chasing after a very angry akumatized Marinette.

“Princess I know you’ve had a crumby day but you’re batter than this,” Chat chuckled to himself as he dodged another croissant heading towards his head.

“Enough with the puns!” Marinette shouted in irritation sending more croissants sailing his way.

“Aw Princess I know you don’t knead that,” Chat snickered before a buttery croissant landed smack dab in the middle of his mouth. Chat hummed in delight his stomach growling in response.

“And stop calling me Princess!” Marinette hissed. She was dressed in a black and purple apron wielding a large purple spoon in her hands, purple cake batter splattered across one of her cheeks. She was the least intimidating akuma Chat had ever seen.

“Well you didn’t like muffin or cupcake, I’m running out of nicknames here,” Chat complained taking the croissant reluctantly from his mouth.

“Stop with the nicknames,” Marinette shouted throwing another croissant his way. This time Chat snatched the breaded delicacy out of the air and began stuffing it in the slim pockets of his suit.

You’re pathetic, Plagg’s voice sighed in his head.

Hey, don’t judge me I’m starving here! Adrien snapped back.

“You need a name sweet stuff.” Chat smirked. A croissant bounced off his head. “Okay you don’t like that one, how about…” Chat snapped his fingers a cheshire grin spreading across his face. “Pastry Princess!” Chat purred.

Marinette gave him a deadpan look. Chat opened his mouth to say something else but before the words fell past his lips a cupcake the size of a car landed on top of him. Chat popped his head out the top. Sticky frosting slid down his face and clumped in his hair.

“I take it you like your new name,” Chat cooed. Marinette gave him an irritated look as she hopped over to the next rooftop leaving Chat in his cupcake prison. It was surprisingly difficult to move within the dense cake. Worried Marinette might get away, and with no Ladybug in sight to come to his aid, Chat summoned his cataclysm and let the cupcake disintegrate around his feet. It was a shame he lacked the time to eat through the sweet instead. His stomach grumbled in agreement.

Chat hopped across the rooftops in pursuit of Marinette who occasionally tossed a croissant or cookie in his direction. Chat did his best to catch what he could, stuffing the sweets in the all too small pockets.

“Pastry Princess what exactly are you trying to accomplish here? As much as I love this akuma power of yours, what’s the point?” Chat shouted after her.

“Chloe’s not going to ruin my sweets any more!” Marinette snarled leaping to the next rooftop (why was she so good at this?).

“Seriously? Your evil agenda is to make sweets for everyone? Marinette that’s like the least evil thing I’ve ever heard of!” Chat laughed. His laughter was quickly cut off, however, when he slipped on a sheet of chocolate frosting sending him tumbling down the rooftop his hand missing the ledge. Panic set in as his body began to fall. A hand came out to capture his own stopping the descent to earth below. Marinette’s blue eyes looked into his, suddenly filled with compassion. A purple butterfly appeared over Marinette’s eyes as Hawkmoth spoke to her. Her free hand reached for Chat Noir’s ring. Chat’s eyes widened in fear. Marinette’s fingers grazed the cool metal of his ring before flinching back rather suddenly as if burned. Marinette pulled his hand up onto the ledge letting him get a grip before dashing off into the night. Chat clambered back up onto the roof eyes scanning the skyline for his Pastry Princess only to come up empty. Chat sighed to himself as his ring let out a warning beep. It looked like He wouldn’t be stopping Marinette tonight.

When Chat came crashing through his window he immediately began emptying the contents of his pockets onto his bed before the transformation could wear off. The cat suit slipped from his body as the last cookie hit the sheets. Plagg let out an annoyed sigh as he landed on Adrien’s nightstand.

“Seriously? You couldn’t have just left those?” Plagg asked irritably. Adrien’s stomach grumbled in response as he glared at the tiny god.

“Adrien? Is that you I hear?” Nathalie’s voice sounded from behind the door. In a wave of panic Adrien quickly tossed his blanket over the sizable pastry tower on top of his bed. Nathalie entered the room quirking her eyebrow up when she noticed the lumpy mound atop his bed. She gave him a quizzical look as her eyes went from the tower, to him, and back again. Adrien smiled nervously at her trying to make himself look as innocent as possible.

“Yes Nathalie?” Adrien pulled her attention away from the tower.

“Your father wanted me to tell you that your photo shoot for tomorrow is schedules for 3 o’clock,” Nathalie said slowly eyes flickering towards the tower again.

“Thank you Nathalie,” Adrien dismissed her. Nathalie spared one final glance at the tower before slowly closing the door behind her. Adrien sighed in relief as he sank to the floor.

“That wasn’t super obvious or anything,” Plagg said snidely. Adrien scowled at him.

“Just be grateful my father hasn’t cut cheese out of my diet,” Adrien muttered. Plagg seemed to pale at the thought. Adrien as exhausted as he was couldn’t resist pulling a treat from the stack beneath his blanket and taking a mouth watering bite. Adrien made it through four croissants and three cookies before falling asleep, one half eaten cookie still in hand.

“Would. You. Get. Off. My. Back!” Marinette spat as frosting covered the ground Chat was running on. Chat fell on his face sliding right up to Marinette who stared down at him crossly.

“Believe me Pastry Princess I would like nothing more than for this to be over with,” Chat griped as he looked up at her irritably. Chat groaned as another tidal wave of chocolate frosting washed over him. His brows sunk over his eyes as he glared up at Marinette, lips pushed into a pout.

“I told you to stop calling me that kitty,” Marinette said curtly as she placed a cherry in the dollop of frosting that sat on Chat’s nose. Chat sneered at her as he violently shook the cherry from his face. He stood shaking off globs of the thick creamy topping. He looked up to say something back to Marinette but she was already gone leaping across the rooftops of Paris. Chat sighed, reluctantly opting to chase after her. He broke out into a run immediately sliding across the frosting coated ground and smashing into the chimney.

“That’s it!” Chat bemoaned. “I’m done for the day!” Chat proclaimed to no one in particular.

It’s been three days Adrien! The girl has frosting abilities, how have you not taken care of this already? Plagg complained loudly in Adrien’s head.

Well she keeps running away! Adrien snapped.

Maybe if you didn’t fall for the same trick three times in a row she wouldn’t have gotten away and you wouldn’t be in this mess! Plagg hissed.

Shut up! Adrien muttered before leaping off in the direction of home to take a shower before school started.

Adrien still smelt like chocolate by the time he arrived at school. He dragged his feet all they way to his desk before slumping down into his seat next to Nino. Adrien put his head in his hands eyes slowly falling shut before snapping back open again. He was going to force himself to stay awake. Adrien idly wondered if akuma’s needed sleep as his eyes began to drift closed once more.

“Man you look like hell,” Nino commented pulling Adrien back into the present. Adrien blinked his bleary eyes at Nino before humming in response. “You been sleeping alright man?” Nino asked.

“Not really, been a little preoccupied,” Adrien yawned eyes falling shut again.

“With what man? Your photo shoot schedule has been super lax lately,” Nino pushed.

“Oh you know just worried about the latest akuma, Ladybug and Chat Noir still haven’t been able to stop her,” Adrien responded lazily. Mind too sluggish to come up with a better excuse.

“Akuma? Is that why there are croissants all over the streets?” Nino asked curiously. Adrien’s eyes snapped open in surprise. He looked at Nino skeptically.

“Yeah Nino you know, the Pastry Princess,” Adrien clarified.

“Pastry Princess? What are you guys talking about?” Alya jumped in between the two boys. Adrien looked over at her startled.

“Yeah Alya- the akuma!” Adrien sputtered out.

“What akuma?” Alya knit her brows together. Adrien’s mouth hung open, his eyebrows rising into his hairline. Did no one honestly know about the akuma!?

“Alya where do you think Marinette’s been these past few days?” Adrien asked incredulously. Alya’s eyes lit up, a bright smile spreading across her face.

“Are you worried about Marinette, Adrien?” Alya asked raising one eyebrow suggestively. Adrien opened his mouth to speak but was soon interrupted by the shouts of his increasingly troublesome classmate.

“CROISSANTS FOR EVERYONE!!!!” Marinette yelled as warm buttery croissants began raining down on the group. “Oh except for you Chloe, I have something special for you.” Marinette smiled maliciously as she waved her purple spoon around in the air. A shrill screech bounced off the walls. Adrien turned in time to see Chloe drenched in swaths of florescent purple frosting. The gooey substance seeped into the girl’s hair and refused to be shaken off. Marinette laughed maniacally as she fled the room. Nino picked up a croissant and took an eager bite scarfing the pastry down in no time flat.

“Dude she could of at least given us some napkins before she left, what’s up with Marinette lately?” Nino asked as he wiped his buttery fingers on his shirt. Adrien banged his head against the table. Was no one else seeing that Marinette was very much akumatized!?!

“Dude you okay?” Nino asked in alarm. Adrien gave one final smack of his head against the desk before resting it there and shooting his friend a thumbs up.

“Is she-? Did-? Is Marinette an akuma?” Alya asked brows knit together uncertainly. Adrien slowly raised his head from the desk and turned to face Alya eyes wide expression blank. He bit back the snide remark that was on the tip of his tongue.

“Aw man does that mean I can’t eat another croissant?” Nino complained.

Adrien wanted to scream. Was this really happening right now? Alya quickly leapt up from her desk to chase after Marinette whether as a dedicated blogger or a concerned friend Adrien wasn’t quite sure.

“Marinette are we really not done with this yet? You already got back at Chloe! Her hair is still purple! Vendetta fulfilled now will you please put the damn cake batter down!” Chat yelled over to Marinette as he dodged another glob of batter. Chat growled as one thick dollop slapped his face. “Come on Marinette you’re baking me crazy with all this batter.” Although Chat had to admit it was a nice alternative to frosting.

“Would you give it a rest with the puns already?” Marinette snapped flinging another spoonful of batter his way. Chat ducked.

“Butter you going to stop throwing batter if I do?” Chat purred. A face-full of batter answered his question.

“Are you done yet?” Marinette tapped her foot impatiently.

“Not in the yeast bit,” Chat chuckled. Marinette let out an enraged growl before a wave of croissants crashed on top of Chat Noir. The impact sent him tumbling into the street below with what he assumed to be at least three tons worth of croissants. Cars honked as they veered off the road to avoid the croissant wall. Chat struggled to move through the shifting pile, croissants slipping and sinking beneath his feet as he tried to stand only to fall again.

“Oh did the kitty fall?” Marinette’s voice dripped with patronizing concern. Chat glowered up at her before falling forward once more on the croissant tower.

“Okay Marinette this is just ridiculous, you’re just causing trouble now, and not even very good trouble,” Chat complained looking up at Marinette incredulously. How was Marinette so much of a nuisance with this power? Chat set his jaw as he stood on wobbly legs.

“Oh I’ll show you trouble,” Marinette barked. The ground beneath Chat’s feet began shaking. Chat fell on his bottom as the cracks in the road and sidewalk began to burst with creamy frosting. Oh great we are back to frosting again, Chat thought bitterly to himself. Frosting spewed from the ground in fat blobs and clumps. Adrien’s stomach churned uncomfortably as the multi dyed frosting oozed along the sidewalks. He had had enough frosting as of late. Marinette looked around smiling at her mess of a creation. Chat Noir took the opportunity to extend his baton to the roof and knock her feet out from underneath her sending her toppling down into the bed of croissants below. Marinette landed with a soft bounce next to Chat Noir who quickly pounced on top of her. He pinned her hands down as well as he could against the breaded ground. He started to reach for the wooden spoon when Marinette’s legs pulled up beneath him and kicked him off and over her head. Marinette rolled around onto her hands and knees before standing on unsteady legs. Chat flailed in the croissant mess clawing up to his feet. Standing knee deep in pastries.

Chat extended his baton taking a swing at Marinette who ducked below the blow easily. Noting how difficult it was to move on the unsteady ground Chat swung for her legs. Unable to jump Marinette was quickly knocked down once more. She glowered up at him as she grunted in annoyance. Chat sifted through the croissants as Marinette scrambled backwards burying herself deeper into the food stack as she moved. Chat reached for her spoon but Marinette had already sunken completely into the sea of buttery bread. Chat looked around fearfully. He couldn’t see where she was or where she would be coming from. Sweat pricked the back of Chat’s neck as his eyes scanned the layer of bread for movement. Marinette popped up behind him latching herself to his back causing Chat Noir to stumble backwards. Marinette pulled him back into the blackness of her pastry wall. The two squirmed and wrestled blindly with Marinette gripping Chat Noir like a vice. Chat flailed around uncontrollably in an effort to shake Marinette. He grabbed and pulled at Marinette’s arms and legs, who refused to let go. Finally Chat Noir caught hold of her hair. So this is what it has come to, Adrien sighed, disappointed in himself for what he was about to do. One pigtail in hand Chat Noir began to pull. Marinette screeched in pain hands detaching themselves from around him to grab Chat’s hair and yank back. Chat Noir flinched but refused to let go. He pulled harder until her leg hold loosened enough for him to roll away from her (or as best he could roll in the croissant mess they were trapped in). Chat popped up above the pastry sea’s surface sucking in a deep breath and rubbing his tender head. Note to self- never pull Marinette’s hair again, she pulls back! Marinette popped up in front of him eyes filled with loathing, pigtails askew.

“You’re toast!” She panted. A smile spread across Chat’s face as he began to laugh.

“Did you mean to make that pun Princess?” Chat snickered.

“Shut up!” Marinette growled waving her spoon around menacingly. A cupcake the size of Chat’s head came sailing down towards him. Chat jumped out of the way tumbling down the croissant hill.

“Dough ya think you could watch where you’re throwing those things. You’re going to give someone a head injury before they can enjoy their stomach ache,” Chat complained. A loud bell rang out over the city. Chat counted the number quietly to himself and grimaced. His lunch hour was just about over.

“What are you looking at?” Marinette seethed pulling Chat’s attention back to her. Chat quickly composed himself as he turned away from the direction of the bells to look at her a smirk spreading over his face.

“As much as I’d like to stay and chat Princess, I have somewhere I need to be.” Chat gave the akumatized girl a two finger salute before dashing off in the direction of the school.

Wait you’re just going to leave her like that- again!?! Plagg asked incredulously.

I’ve got school Plagg! Adrien defended himself.

So you’re just going to leave an akuma out in the middle of the city? Plagg asked rather irritably.

What’s she going to do while I’m in class? End world hunger? She can wait, Adrien reasoned. He could practically hear Plagg’s eyes roll in response but the black cat said nothing.

It had been a week. Croissants and dried frosting covered the city and every damn ant in existence was out in the streets munching on the discarded food. Bulldozers had to pile the stacks of croissants on the sides of the road every morning for traffic to continue. Chloe’s hair was still a bright florescent purple. Alya was going crazy knowing that Marinette was akumatized. Adrien’s hair still smelled like chocolate. And Ladybug was no where to be found.

“The Pastry Princess is out again coating the Eiffel Tower in what looks to be a pink fondant…” The news reporter droned on before Adrien quickly changed the channel. Plagg looked towards Adrien waiting for his command.

“Aren’t you going to go out there and stop her?” Plagg asked finally fed up with waiting.

“Nope,” Adrien added a pop to the ‘P’ as he continued to channel surf.

“So what? You’re just going to leave Marinette akumatized forever?” Plagg glowered at Adrien floating up into his line of sight. Adrien threw his head back and let out a frustrated groan.

“Why bother? I can’t purify the akuma without Ladybug and she’s MIA right now. Besides it’s not like Marinette is much of a threat,” Adrien snapped folding his arms indignantly and pursing his lips into a pout.

“Sure what does it matter that she’s akumatized if she’s not causing harm to anyone,” Plagg snorted sarcastically. “HELLO! You’re subjecting this girl to Hawkmoth’s will! Are you really just going to leave her like that!?” Plagg shouted in seething irritation. Adrien looked at the ground sheepishly as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.

“I don’t know I just I can’t figure out how to stop her. Not without Ladybug at least. What am I going to do Plagg?” Adrien moaned.

“Well for starters, transforming would probably help,” Plag spat. Adrien hopped to his feet and began pacing around the room running anxious hands through his sticky hair (he was certain he would never get all that frosting out).

“How do I fix this without Ladybug? I know the akuma is in her spoon but even if I got ahold of it what would I do? I can’t purify the akuma and we definitely don’t need hundreds of Marinettes running around…” Adrien paused smiling at the thought before quickly shaking his head. “No no, a hundred akumatized Marinettes would be bad!” Adrien corrected his thoughts as he picked up pacing around his room again. “I’ve already tried to convince her to stop, she already got her revenge and now she’s just aimlessly terrorizing the city. She has no motive! I can’t convince her to stop doing what she’s doing because now it’s just how she is, as an akuma anyways. Maybe there’s another way to free her from Hawkmoth. I wish Ladybug was here to help. She always knows just what to do! Ladybug,” Adrien sighed her name a love stricken look coming over his face.

“Okay snap out of it Romeo we have an akuma to worry about here!” Plagg complained.

“Right! So maybe just getting her away from Hawkmoth’s control. Maybe if I get her to just be Marinette for a minute we can put a stop to all this but how…. A kiss!” Adrien snapped his fingers a smile spreading over his face. He straightened up mind whirring as he thought through the logic of his plan.

“A what?!” Plagg screeched in alarm. This was not at all where he thought this was going.

“That’s it Plagg! I’ll kiss her!” Adrien beamed as he paced excitedly around the room.

“That is a terrible plan!” Plagg said patronizingly.

“Didn’t we learn something in school around Valentine’s day about breaking a spell with a kiss? Maybe that works for mind control too! It’s worked in all the fairytale’s so it’s worth a shot,” Adrien reasoned to himself.

“That will not work!” Plagg griped.

“If I can just get close enough to her I can do this. I could pretend to give up my miraculous but that’s a little whisk-y,” Adrien chuckled to himself.

“This can not end well,” Plagg whined in defeat shaking his head with one paw on his face.

“But it would get me close enough to kiss her. And maybe a kiss will be enough to break the spell and get Marinette back. It won’t purify her but it will at least keep the terrorizing of Paris to a minimum until Ladybug gets back!” Adrien decided.

“What kind of logic is this?!” Plagg shouted incredulously.

“I think I know how we are going to help Marinette Plagg! Come on we need to get to the eiffel tower!” Adrien turned to his kwamii a determined glint in his eyes.

“Are you even listening to me?” Plagg glared at his charge fixing him with the most painstakingly patronizing look he could muster.

“Plagg! Claws out!” Adrien called out.

“We’re doomed.” Plagg flew into Adrien’s ring followed by a swath of green light.

***SIN WARNING***

Marinette stood on a nearby rooftop admiring her white and pink fondant creation that once was the Eiffel Tower. The sun had just barely set, casting a purple glow on the city below.

“Evening Princess,” Chat purred from behind. Marinette whirled around on him a scowl staining her features. Chat smirked mischievously as he leaned against his baton.

“Look who finally decided to make an appearance,” Marinette sneered. Chat held his hands up in defeat.

“You win Princess. I give up. If you want my miraculous all you have to do is take it, I won’t try to stop you,” Chat said solemnly. He held up the lone finger that the ring was perched on and did his best to suppress the growing smile behind his eyes. Marinette looked cautiously between the ring and him.

“You’re just going to give me your miraculous?” Marinette asked skeptically, narrowing her eyes at Chat Noir.

“I only ask that you leave Paris alone afterwards,” Chat conceded. Marinette took a careful step towards Chat Noir. Chat tossed his baton aside raising both his hands up to show he meant no harm. He raised his eyebrows innocently towards Marinette. “Better?” Marinette paused looking from him to the baton before nodding. Chat stood as still as possible as he waited for Marinette to get close enough. Warily Marinette approached Chat Noir. She searched his eyes for signs of malcontent and deceit. Seeming satisfied that she found none she slowly reached for his ring keeping her eyes locked with his. As soon as her hand brushed against his Chat clamped down grasping her hand within his own. Marinette’s eyes widened in alarm. Chat snaked his arm around Marinette’s back. Marinette glared up at him opening her mouth to speak. Before she could utter a single word Chat crashed their lips together effectively silencing her. Marinette inhaled sharply pulling back and shaking her head but where her lips went Chat stubbornly followed until finally Marinette was no longer squirming against him.

Marinette sighed into him her body relaxing into his. Chat smirked to himself before surging ahead and moving his lips desperately against hers. Chat released his grip on her hand opting to caress her cheek instead. Marinette’s hands wove their way into Chat’s messy hair fingers lacing themselves through the golden strands. Marinette kissed him back just as fiercely giving Chat the confidence to run his tongue across the seam of her lips. Marinette gasped giving Chat the opening he was waiting for. Marinette kissed him harder eliciting a moan from the back of his throat. Their tongues sliding against one another each fighting for dominance as Chat’s fingers slid into Marinette’s hair. Marinette sighed into him as he gave her dark hair a slight tug. Suddenly Marinette’s hands were trailing down his shoulders her lips finding their way to his ear. Hot breath brushed against his skin giving him goosebumps despite the heat of his suit. Marinette nipped at his ear causing Chat to gasp in surprise, cursing under his breath. Apparently pulling Marinette’s hair could be a very very good thing when done right. Chat quickly swooped down to press soft kisses to Marinette’s neck. The contented noises rising from Marinette’s throat encouraged Chat to go farther. pushing her into the chimney next to them. He kissed her hungrily moving farther down her neck until he reached her collarbone where he gently bit down. A soft moan escaped Marinette’s lips. Chat smirked against her skin relishing in the sounds she made.

Um hello! This obviously isn’t working!! Plagg complained.

Shut up Plagg, Adrien breathed in response.

You do realize you are kissing an akuma right? This isn’t Marinette! Plagg pointed out.

It feels like Marinette, Adrien sighed happily.

This is why you shouldn’t give a hormonal teenage boy catlike abilities, Plagg muttered. Adrien chose to ignore him, instead focusing on Marinette and the task at hand. Chat sucked the skin below her collarbone lightly before moving back up to her lips. Marinette bit down on his bottom lip, kissing him frantically as her nails dug into his back. Chat Noir could barely breathe, could barely think, all he could focus on was the feel of Marinette’s soft lips against his own and the way her tongue taunted him.

Her hands found their way to his hair once more. Fingers raking across his scalp causing him to make the most inhuman groan either of them had ever heard. Chat Noir pressed himself against her pinning her back against the wall. Marinette gasped delightedly as she pulled him closer, fingers pulling at his hair. His hands slid down to her hips holding her in place as some very ungentlemanly thoughts came to mind.

STOP!!! Please I beg of you don’t!! Plagg whined in a panicked voice. Adrien wanted to ignore the kwami but Plagg had a point. He couldn’t let his thoughts go there. Not now anyways not with Marinette being akumatized…

Oh shit! Adrien’s mind suddenly jolted to life again. His eyes blew open wide eyebrows shooting into his thoroughly mussed hair. What am I doing!? This didn’t work! Marinette is still- At this point Marinette had noticed how still Chat Noir had become. She slowly pulled away both of them breathing heavily their chests brushing against one another as they rose and fell in time. Marinette looked up at him with innocent deep blue eyes. Chat’s expression softened, a smile pulling at his lips. Maybe his plan had worked after all. Maybe this was Marinette. Chat slowly began to lean in again pressing his lips delicately against hers kissing her much more gently this time. Marinette’s eyes darkened as something began to stir within her. She quickly shoved Chat off of her. Chat stumbled back expression dismayed hand clutching his chest as if she had hurt him. Before he could respond to her a giant croissant landed on top of him slamming his body into the cement beneath him. Chat’s head throbbed as he struggled to shove the car sized pastry off of his body.

By the time he had freed himself Marinette was already gone.

***END SIN WARNING***

“Well that didn’t work!” Adrien groaned as he paced around his bedroom. “That’s it I’m done! Marinette isn’t hurting anyone. I can leave her until Ladybug gets back.” Adrien flopped onto his couch with a heavy sigh and a pounding headache. his head had hit the ground hard when he was crushed by the croissant.

“Of course it didn’t work! It was a stupid plan! Do you know what it was like to watch that, you vulgar minded Numskull!?” Plagg griped.

“Plagg!” Adrien warned.

“Oh sure that you hear!” Plagg muttered.

“It wasn’t that intense,” Adrien mumbled. Plagg snorted.

“Yeah right! The only thing keeping me from throttling you right now is knowing that Hawkmoth had to suffer through your sexcapades too!” Plagg retorted.

“They weren’t sexca- HE WHAT?!?” Adrien shot up from the couch to stare at Plagg wide eyed with horror, mouth agape.

“What?” Plagg asked curiously.

“HAWKMOTH SAW ME- US- HE WAS WATCHING?!?!” Adrien asked face twisted with revulsion.

“Duh! He controls Marinette, he got to experience just about everything I did, probably more so since Marinette is practically his puppet,” Plagg shrugged nonchalantly. Adrien let out a deranged groan as he buried his face in his hands. Plagg raised an eyebrow at his charge. “What’s the matter kid?” Plagg asked. Adrien looked up from his hands face contorted in a mask of pain and disgust.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST MADE OUT WITH HAWKMOTH!!” Adrien wailed. Plagg paused before bursting into laughter. Eyes tearing at the corners. “This is so NOT funny!” Adrien complained.

“Sure it is, you just made out with your arch nemesis through one of his akuma’s! Oh just wait until Ladybug finds out!” Plagg snickered. Adrien let out another deranged cry.

“She can never find out! That’s it one way or another we have to put a stop to Marinette. This can’t go on!” Adrien decided as he stood up.

“Oh sure now that you kissed Hawkmoth, Marinette is suddenly a priority,” Plagg said shaking his head with disappointment.

“We are never speaking of this again!” Adrien warned glaring at his kwamii.

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” Plagg teased.

“Shut up Plagg! Now come on we need to find Marinette and stop her!” Adrien commanded.

“Look at who is finally taking initiative! It only took some raging hormones and making out with an akuma but hey at least you’re being productive now!” Plagg quipped.

“Plagg,” Adrien growled threateningly. “Claws out!”

Chat Noir had been perusing Paris for over an hour before he finally found the Princess he was looking for. Marinette was aimlessly jumping across the Parisian skyline leaving macaroons, and chocolate chip cookies in her wake. Chat stalked her biding his time until he could make his move. The wooden spoon which held the akuma was tucked away in the pocket of her apron. Chat just needed to get the spoon and this whole nightmare would finally be over and done with. Marinette’s head snapped in his direction blanching when she noticed who was watching her. Chat pulled out his baton twirling it in hand as he stepped out of the shadows.

“Hello Princess,” Chat said darkly. Marinette glowered at him.

“What are you doing here,” She hissed.

“I’m done with this akuma business, I’m here to get my friend back.” Chat narrowed his eyes at her. Marinette pulled out her spoon ready to attack.

“Are you sure you can handle another fight with me Chat Noir? As I remember it you and frosting don’t mix well,” Marinette sneered.

“I’m sure I can rise to the occasion,” Chat snickered. Marinette rolled her eyes at him.

“Are we going to fight or are you going to stand there and continue making stupid jokes?” Marinette asked irritably.

“I think I can manage to do both,” Chat chuckled.

“How about you don’t do that,” Marinette said plainly. Chat opened his mouth to speak but before the words could leave his mouth he was suddenly choking on about eight macaroons all crammed inside his mouth. Chat coughed up the cookies, hacking up crumbs and sucking in itching breaths. Marinette smiled devilishly at him as she raised her spoon once more. Chat Noir jumped out of the way of a falling cupcake. Marinette glared at him as she summoned more treats. Chat Noir dodged a wave of car sized falling pastries before sliding towards Marinette. Frosting coated the ground in Chat’s path. Chat slipped on the slick cream crashing into the ground and sliding on his back side right up to Marinette. Chat Noir sat up in the frosting and glared at her. Marinette raised her wooden spoon and brought it down atop Chat Noir’s head with a sickening crack. Chat grunted in pain as his head throbbed in place of the blow.

When Chat opened his eyes Marinette was staring at her hand in wide eyed surprise. Chat Noir followed her gaze to the broken spoon that lay half in hand half on the ground. You’ve got to be kidding me, Chat grumbled to himself. He could hear Plagg laughing hysterically in the back of his head. A little black and purple butterfly pulled itself from the broken spoon and began to flutter haphazardly into the air. Thinking fast Chat Noir summoned cataclysm quickly jumping to his feet and snatching the akuma out of the air. The butterfly crumpled to dust in his hands. Marinette’s akumatization melted away before Chat’s eyes. The frosting and pastries, however, without Ladybug’s power, remained. Marinette looked down at her hands mouth parted and eyes wide. Relief washed over her as she noticed the plain broken spoon that lay on the ground. A smile spread across her face and her shoulders dropped, body relaxed.

“Glad to have you back Princess.” Chat Noir smirked as he pulled himself back onto his feet. Marinette looked up at Chat Noir smile suddenly falling. Fury burned behind Marinette’s eyes. Her hands clenched and unclenched into fists. Shoulders suddenly tensed as her face scrunched together in anger. She scowled at him before raising her hand and landing a hard meaningful slap to his face. Chat’s cheek stung as his head twisted to the side. His jaw dropped in shock eyebrows raised questioningly as he slowly turned back to look at Marinette.

“TWO WEEKS!!!! You left me akumatized for two weeks!?! Do you have any idea what it’s like to have Hawkmoth in your head for TWO WEEKS!?!? I had that whiney 5 year old in my head for two weeks! It was insufferable!!! I swear Chat there better be a damn good reason why you left me like this for two fucking weeks,” Marinette seethed with rage, face flushing with anger.

“I-I uh- you weren’t really- I mean you were kind of- nonthreatening?” Chat tried to explain but stumbled on his words. “Sorry?” Chat tried again seeing that his words were doing little to quell her anger.

“I swear Chat If I see you again you’re going to wish I was still akumatized with that idiot in my head distracting me!” Marinette growled before turning on her heel and heading for the edge of the rooftop.

“Um Marinette how are you going to get home?” Chat asked hesitantly.

“I’ve been jumping across rooftops for two fucking weeks remember?” Marinette shouted back at him. Chat swallowed hard as he watched her leap across the rooftops with all the grace of a superhero.

Way to go Romeo, Plagg snickered.

“Hey Mari good to have you back! How are things?” Nino called to Marinette as her and Alya walked through the door.

“Well I still smell like stale croissants and I’m two weeks behind on my school work,” Marinette said bitterly as she took her seat behind Adrien.

“Bummer,” Nino breathed.

“I swear if the next akuma doesn’t kill Chat I will! I can’t believe he left me like that for two weeks!” Marinette grumbled.

“Hey he de-akumatized you eventually,” Alya jumped to Chat’s defense. Marinette snorted.

“No he didn’t! I did it myself by accident,” Marinette scoffed. Alya’s jaw hit the floor her eyes growing wide. A grin spread over Nino’s face as his eyes bulged out of his head. Adrien still refused to turn around not wanting to know what kind of expression Marinette was currently wearing. He had really screwed this one up.

“Seriously? Marinette you’re like the worst villain ever!” Alya chided lightheartedly.

“Which is why I’m wondering why the hell it took so long to de-akumatize me,” Marinette muttered. She was most definitely still angry. This was bad. Very very bad. Adrien needed to talk to her, he needed to apologize for leaving her the way he did for so long.

“Come on Marinette you can’t be too hard on the guy, Ladybug wasn’t even there to help him out.” Adrien had finally summoned the courage to turn around and talk to Marinette. His heart hammered in his chest pulse ringing in his ears and his palms were definitely sweating.

“I had power over frosting and croissants,” Marinette said flatly fixing Adrien with an intense glare that made him want to shrink into his shirt and hide.

“Chat Noir is totally losing his touch.” Nino gave a low whistle.

“I’m sure he has a life outside of being a superhero, maybe he’s stressed,” Adrien tried carefully.

“Two weeks Adrien. He left me akumatized for two weeks! He’s lucky he isn’t a dead cat!” Marinette spat. Adrien swallowed hard before nodding and returning his attention to the front of the classroom again.

Maybe he would wait until she had cooled off first…

A week was a suitable amount of time for Marinette to forgive him for the whole akumatization thing right? At least that’s what Chat had thought before he landed on Marinette’s balcony late that evening. Marinette fixed him with an ice cold glare filled with loathing. Adrien suddenly felt nervous despite having the anonymity of the mask to hide behind. Marinette’s blue eyes pierced through him making him feel oddly exposed and vulnerable.

“Evening Princess,” Chat said nervously, feebly waving his hand. Chat was slapped once more across the face. He could feel the sting on his cheek where her hand had been. He was certain that if she kept slapping him there was sure to be a bruise. “I take it you’re still mad?” Chat said weekly.

“You think?!” Marinette hissed hands on her hips lips pursed. Chat bit his bottom lip fixing her with what he hoped to be the most heartbroken look of any cat she had seen.

“Marinette I’m so sorry about what I did. I should have tried harder to save you. I didn’t think about what was going on in your head and I’m sorry for everything. I guess I’m not really much of a hero without Ladybug,” Chat mumbled eyes falling to the ground. Marinette’s expression softened her shoulders dropping as she let out a deep sigh.

“That’s not true Chat. You’re just as much of a hero as she is,” Marinette conceded. As mad as she was, she couldn’t stand to watch her partner beat himself up like this. Chat finally looked back up, meeting Marinette’s eyes.

“I guess that would make you a hero too than, since you did more to save yourself than either Ladybug or I did.” Chat smiled guiltily.

“Yeah I guess it does.” Marinette shrugged. “Look Chat I’m still pissed about being akumatized for two weeks but I mean I get it, it’s not like the akuma attacks haven’t taken their toll on you. Just do me a favor and don’t let anyone go that long as an akuma again. Having Hawkmoth in your head isn’t an experience I would wish on anyone,” Marinette shuttered. Chat nodded in understanding.

“I promise,” He assured her. Marinette gave him a small smile.

“I better go back inside, I have a lot of schoolwork I still need to catch up on,” Marinette said begrudgingly as she headed towards the trap door. Adrien chewed on his bottom lip debating what to say.

“Marinette,” Chat stopped her. Marinette looked back at him, sitting on the edge of her trap door. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him. No use backing out now. Chat sucked down a shaky breath before plowing ahead. “I know it’s different for everyone but how much of being akumatized do you remember?” Chat just had to know. His anxiety had been eating away at him over this one question. Chat’s heart thrummed in his chest threatening to break through his ribcage at any moment. He had to mentally remind himself to breath normally as he waited for Marinette’s answer. A sly grin spread across Marinette’s face as she looked back at him completely amused.

“Oh I remember everything. Next time, use less tongue,” Marinette said cheekily before dropping down into her room.

“Next time!?!” Chat Noir squeaked, his face flushing a deep and flustered red.

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