'Looks'. There are certain 'looks' which can define a moment. There's the classic 'smouldering gaze,' where the intensity could thaw the iciest of hearts. Then there's the 'awkwardly adorable glance,' catching you off guard in the sweetest way. And of course, who could resist the 'charming smirk' that spells trouble in the best possible way?

But Marinette's favourite 'look' of all came courtesy of her fiancé. Adrien always had this wonderful blend of rugged charm and genuine warmth that made every moment with him special. And watching him work on their home was truly enchanting.

With his sleeves rolled up and his tools in hand, he approached each task with focused determination. She'd spent hours pretending to clean, instead studying his frown as he contemplated the best way to restore or renovate, the whole look incredibly endearing. There was a quiet confidence in the way he fixed things, drawing on his skills and craftsmanship — or lack of, in some cases. The builders jumped in and saved him before he could make any grave mistakes.

But what she loved most about 'builder Adrien' was his unwavering dedication and his ability to bring life back into this house that held so much sentimental value for them both.

It wasn't just about repairs; it was about creating a home filled with love and memories, and seeing him embrace this project with such passion and care made her fall in love with him all over again. Adrien's hands-on approach and his commitment to honouring her grandfather's legacy through this house—it was a beautiful journey they were embarking on together.

So, she needed to pull on her big girl pants and actually tell him that!

Marinette and Alya were in full swing, preparing for their big night out. Clothes were strewn across Marinette's bedroom, forming a colourful mosaic of potential outfits.

Alya, holding up a sparkly dress, exclaimed, "This one screams confidence, girl! You're gonna rock Adrien's world tonight!"

Marinette, nervously fiddling with her hair, replied, "I hope so, Alya. I've rehearsed what I'll say a hundred times, but what if I trip over my words?"

"Or your feet," Alya said, causing Marinette to launch a bra in her direction.

Alya grinned mischievously. "Trust me, Marinette. Tonight, you're gonna have Adrien hanging on your every syllable like it's the most thrilling episode of 'The Chat Show'!"

Marinette laughed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Okay, let's do this. But first, we need to ensure every detail is perfect. Adrien deserves nothing less than flawless."

With Alya's expert guidance, they meticulously crafted Marinette's look, from a daring updo to just the right shade of lipstick. Alya held up a mirror for Marinette's inspection. "Voila! One dazzling designer disguise, ready to charm the socks off Adrien Agreste."

Marinette blushed. "I hope. I need all the confidence I can get."

Alya threw an arm around her. "Remember, girlfriend, tonight's your night. And if all else fails, just imagine Adrien in a clown costume. Instant confidence boost!"

Marinette chuckled. "Thanks, Alya. But even then he'd be gorgeous!"

She sighed, her eyes looking down at her engagement ring. She'd begun to twirl it around her finger, more often then she would have liked. She'd miss it when it was gone.

"Damn, girl, you've got it worse than ever."

Marinette didn't need Alya to tell her that.

She stood up and made her way over to her wardrobe, foregoing Alya's sparkly dress and looking for something a little more her, a little more...

As she pushed the clothing to one side, she caught sight of a flicker of red hidden around the corner, a red which would definitely give her the confidence she needed — because she knew he liked this dress.

The tips of her fingers reached out and stroked down the soft fabric, her fingers pinching at the material and sending her into a spiral of thoughts.

"I thought you were going to wear this," Alya said.

Marinette turned around with a smug smirk on her face. "I have something better."

*****

Marinette stood near the entrance of the nightclub, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. The bass of the music thumped through her like a relentless beatboxer, making her wonder if she should have brought earplugs instead of lipstick. The air was a potent mix of sweat and what could only be described as "eau de party," leaving her to question the effectiveness of her perfume.

She shifted her weight, trying to discreetly unstick her shoe from the floor without drawing attention to herself. She glanced at her phone for the umpteenth time, wondering if Adrien and the others had gotten lost in the neon maze inside.

As she stood there, a group of enthusiastic dancers nearly collided with her, prompting her to do a quick, awkward shuffle to avoid being swept into an impromptu conga line.

The conversations around her were a blur of indiscernible shouts over the music, as Alya, Zoé and the rest of the girls chattered excitedly. Marinette tried to nod along, hoping she was responding appropriately to whatever was being yelled in her direction. She figured agreeing enthusiastically was always a safe bet.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the chaos, and Marinette turned to see Adrien, Nino and Luka making their way towards her, Kim and Max trailing just behind. She couldn't help but laugh at the relief of their arrival, ready to share her sticky dance floor adventures with the rest of the crew.

Their eyes locked across the crowded room, Adrien's gaze illuminated by the swirling lights, like a disco ball beckoning her closer. She felt a jolt of excitement ripple through her, her heart pounding louder than the bass of the music. That look! She was getting used to seeing it, yet when it came to acting on it, words still failed her.

She couldn't help but compare herself to a mesmerised moth, drawn irresistibly towards that captivating glow – obviously not the greatest expression considering...

With a mixture of nerves and exhilaration, Marinette navigated through the throng of dancers, trying her best not to spill her drink or step on anyone's toes.

As she approached Adrien, the corners of his mouth lifted into a warm smile that made her feel like the luckiest person in the club, her cheeks flushing with a mix of anticipation and happiness as she finally reached his side.

"Hey, wifey," Adrien said over the music, his voice somehow managing to cut through the chaos around them.

"Hey, husband," she replied, her own voice slightly louder than expected.

They exchanged a knowing look, the rest of the world fading into the background as they shared a moment amid the pulsating lights and energetic atmosphere. Marinette couldn't help but feel like she was exactly where she was meant to be—captivated by Adrien's look, dancing to the rhythm of the night.

She couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed their way as she stood beside him. It finally dawned on her that people had realised who they were and suddenly took a great interest.

Marinette's self-awareness skyrocketed. She suddenly felt as though her every move on the dance floor would be scrutinised, as if she had been unwittingly cast in a live episode of 'Dancing with the Stars.'

Adrien's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, drawing Marinette's attention away from the gaggling girls to what she was wearing as he mentioned her red dress—the same one he had picked out for her Sparkr date a month ago.

"Did you wear it? For your date?"

She realised he'd never asked her before this point, almost as if he hadn't wanted to know. Or maybe he'd just forgotten. "I didn't," she admitted.

When she'd come to get ready that evening, she wasn't sure whether it was the thought of Adrien being out with Elise, or that she was scared to try it on, but she didn't wear it. She never even took it out of the paper bag...until she was suddenly engaged to her best friend. It was a dress for him – no one else but him.

His eyes seemed to sparkle a little more, his lips pulling into a wide smile. "I'm glad to hear it. You look beautiful, by the way." He stepped into her personal space, pressing a long lingering kiss to her cheek which made her eyes close and skin melt off her body.

She felt a rush of emotions at his words and gestures. His genuine compliment stirred a delightful mixture of joy and affection within her. It wasn't just the dress; it was the sentiment behind it—Adrien's thoughtful gesture in choosing something he knew she would love.

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she responded, "I'm glad you think so, Kitty. It's become one of my favourites."

The way he looked at her, with admiration and a touch of fondness, sent a shiver down her spine in the most wonderful way. She couldn't deny the effect Adrien's words had on her—like a delicious warmth spreading through her heart, reminding her of the connection they shared.

In that moment, surrounded by the energy of the nightclub and the allure of Adrien's stare, Marinette felt a profound sense of contentment. His compliment had left her pleasantly flustered, and she knew if she was going to survive the night with those intense looks from him, she needed a bit more liquid courage.

With a playful smirk, she gestured toward the bar. "I think a refill is in order. Care to join me?"

Adrien's eyes lit up with amusement, and he nodded in agreement. "Absolutely."

They navigated through the crowd toward the bar, where Marinette ordered her drink of choice—a fruity concoction that matched the vibrant energy of the club. As she took a sip, she could feel herself relaxing, the liquid courage working its magic.

Glancing over at Adrien, who was engaged in light conversation with the bartender, Marinette couldn't help but appreciate the way his features softened when he smiled. Taking another sip of her drink, she felt a surge of determination mingled with newfound confidence.

Armed with her beverage and a renewed sense of composure, Marinette turned back to Adrien, ready to face the night with a touch more boldness—and maybe a few more drinks to keep those enchanting looks from distracting her too much.

One hour and four drinks later, she was ready.

She took a deep breath and decided to embrace the moment. She playfully nudged Adrien and grinned. "Looks like we've got an audience tonight! Shall we give them a show?"

Adrien chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Let's do it, M'Lady."

As Clara Nightingale's 'Miraculous' blasted over the sound system, Adrien grabbed her hand in his and pulled her onto the dancefloor, launching them into a dance that was part impromptu salsa, part interpretive shimmy. Marinette couldn't help but laugh at their antics, feeling lighter and more carefree with each step. The stares from onlookers soon became background noise as she focused on having fun and letting loose, with Adrien by her side.

For a brief, exhilarating moment, she forgot about the assumptions and expectations. Instead, she relished in the joy of dancing like nobody was watching (even though they clearly were) and sharing this whimsical experience with Adrien, her partner-in-crime for the night.

It didn't take long for the others to join them, drinks in hand and partners by their sides – everyone, that was, apart from the birthday boy and one more attendee. Adrien spun Marinette around before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back into his chest.

"Look over there." The rich aroma of aged whiskey assaulted her senses as Adrien rested his head on her shoulder and pointed to where they'd claimed a booth earlier in the night.

Sitting, snuggled together and lips attached, was Luka with what Marinette guessed was his favourite present. Birthday smooches with one Zoé Lee.

Giggling, Marinette looked at Adrien, wiggling her eyebrows before nudging Alya and alerting her attention. Like a chain reaction, the gang stopped one-by-one and looked at the two heroes getting close and intimate in the club booth, finally succumbing to the romantic tension which had been a pain in everyone's lives for the past two years.

Marinette watched as they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together and the brightest smiles she'd ever seen on either of their faces.

The gang broke into wild applause, the guys whooping, the girls squealing, and drinks being raised to the happy couple...and just like that, the night had become a lot brighter.

*****

It was the early hours of the following morning when they finally left the club. Luka and Zoé had parted ways with the group not too long after the rather hefty make-out session. No prizes for guessing where they had headed off to.

Marinette felt on cloud nine, warmth in her heart and a buzz from all the love of her friends – or it could have been the additional six cocktails she'd shared with Alya.

"Sweet dreams are made of cheese!"

"Who am I to disagree?"

Marinette turned to see Adrien and Plagg having a sing-off as they walked down the street, both of them cracking up laughing every time one of them got the lyrics wrong. She wasn't sure if they were doing it on purpose, or if neither of them actually knew the words.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Plagg said through laughter. "How about this one? Sharif don't like it..."

"Rock the catbox, rock the catbox!" Adrien said through a loud, gravelly laugh.

As they both continued laughing, Marinette couldn't help but marvel at Adrien. Even when he was losing his voice, he sounded sexy as hell.

"Hey, Nettie! How would you feel about spending the night at our place?" Adrien looped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

She laughed. "I'm not sleeping on a dusty floor, Adrien!"

He stopped, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her body into his. "What if I told you we have a mattress?"

She couldn't help but squeal. "When did that come?"

"Just after you left this afternoon. Cloud nine luxury. So, tell me, wifey, are you in or are you out?"

Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed his hand and began to run in the direction of their home, only to stop abruptly when she realised how much pain her feet were in. Her Louboutin's may have looked the part, but after a couple of hours dancing in them it felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to her soles.

"Stop! Stop!" she said, dropping Adrien's hand to lean against the closest wall. She lifted one foot behind her and attempted to remove the shoe. Instead, she ended up wobbling into the wall.

"What's wrong?" He was by her side in a second, down on his knees and removing her shoe.

His thumb brushed against her sole and the groan threatening to leave her mouth was embarrassing.

"Are they sore?" he asked.

"Hum!" She couldn't speak, because if she did it would have been mortifying for everyone involved in this. So instead she bit down on her bottom lip, scraping her teeth over it in a need to control herself.

She looked down at Adrien, his eyes dancing under the moonlight. In one swift movement, she was up in his arms as he continued to stroll down the street. She felt like she could have been the damsel in one of his movies. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her fingertips stroking through his hair and leaving her alcohol-loosened lips to begin to reveal her truths.

"I've always wanted you to do this." Her fingers continued to caress his scalp.

Adrien laughed, carrying her with ease down the street. Like the freak she was, she lowered her face into the crook of his neck and nuzzled, his body quivering under her touch.

Ha!

Wait!

What?

Her fuzzy brain was holding back something, sending it on another rollercoaster ride as she tried to reach out and grab it.

"I can put you down if you want me to?"

"No!" she screamed. He fumbled a little with her, an obvious wince on his face. Deafening him was most certainly not the best idea.

"What makes me carrying you now different from all the times I've carried you before?"

She sighed, burying her face deeper into his neck. "Because when you're like this, when it's just us, you're my Adrien. The perfect mixture of your personalities brought together for my eyes only. You never have to try with me. You're amazing just the way you are."

The silence was deafening as Adrien continued walking without a word, the heartbeat in his chest pounding against her from the exertion of the walk...or maybe her words.

The instant need to apologise overcame her, as did the need to add distance between them. She'd crossed the line he'd drawn and was ten metres running into his sacred land. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, it's the alcohol."

"You don't need to apologise, Nettie —"

"We're here!" She cut him off abruptly, ending the conversation before he let her down gently - because in a matter of days he would be heading back to London to take on his next big challenge, and who was she to try and hold him back?

Twisting in his arms, she attempted to reconnect with the floor and think of what she could say to get out of this mess...the most obvious being the consumption of alcohol.

"You can put me down now!" She wiggled again, but Adrien's grasp was unmoving. "Adrien?"

He hadn't spoken since her declaration, which felt like an hour ago. Instead, he remained silent, with her tight and safe in his arms. He began to move forward and up to the front door.

"Plagg, Tikki, can you open it please?" His voice sounded like molten honey, all hot and smooth and husky — the perfect combination to up her addiction to him, which right at the moment wasn't ideal.

"What are you doing?" she stuttered out.

"It's only right that I carry my wife over the threshold."

She rolled her eyes, a welcomed laugh leaving her mouth. "That's only once we're married, doofus."

"It's our first night in the house. I'm sure your grandpa would appreciate the formalities."

"Oh, Adrien," she said with a sigh, stroking one hand down his face, taking the extra time to trace her fingertips over the hard line of his jaw. "We both know what my grandpa would think about us living together and not being married."

They looked at each other, the door clicking open and waiting for them to enter the house.

"That's not how it's done!" They both said together, laughter breaking out in the empty hallway, a beautiful sound to complete their new home.

Not wasting another moment, Adrien stepped into the doorway with her in his arms and crashed straight into a paint can.

"Karma!" Marinette giggled and Adrien hoisted her back up into his arms and continued his walk up the staircase. "If you drop me, the engagement is off."

"I best not drop you, then."

She continued to giggle knowing full well Adrien wouldn't drop her. Not when he had arms built like a WWE wrestler. She always felt so safe with him, in every sense of the word. He never overstepped his boundaries (which infuriated her more than anything) and defended her with his life. She sometimes wondered if it came from the Miraculous and their bond through the magic...but then she'd see him come to this house and take care of her grandfather when he became bedridden, allowing her father to have a break from being here, or he'd help Manon with her homework when she came to the bakery complaining.

The love, the security, the pure essence of Adrien which made him incredible was all him. And as much of a dickwad as his father was, he had brought up a gentleman, something so rare in this day and age.

As he led her into their newly renovated bedroom (complete with plastic covered mattress on the ground), he gently placed her feet on the floor and wrapped his arms around her waist, just as he had back at the club.

"The room looks beautiful," Marinette said, a tug on her lips as she studied the scene. The walls were light pink and teamed with accents of grey.

"It's getting there. I still can't believe all this! It's like the greatest dream I've ever had. I'm just afraid I'm going to wake up."

Marinette tried not to read too much into the words, instead pushing them through the alcohol fog and into the back of her mind to dissect at a later date. She knew what she wanted it to mean, and part of her was certain she was right.

Everything had passed the point of platonic now. Each touch lingered a little too long. Each kiss moved closer to the one place which desired him to meet. Each hour spent together was not nearly enough.

She'd always known she loved Adrien — undisputedly — but right now she could believe he felt the same way too. That it wasn't her daydreams or wishful thinking. That everything here between them was real.

So when he went to their wardrobes to grab some sheets, she stood at one end and helped put them on, and as he started to rid himself of his clothes, she didn't give a second thought to removing her dress. And as he lowered himself on the mattress, she perfectly positioned herself in his arms, lulling herself with the steady rhythm of his heart.

His fingertips began to gently stroke up and down her arm, leaving goosebumps and warm feelings in their wake. She closed her eyes, thinking about the trail of love being spread with each stroke. Glittery gold trails left from the impact of his touch, each one placing a little more ownership of her body — and her heart.

This felt different to their last sleepovers. It felt intimate, tentative...wonderful. He was holding her like the most precious jewel, his cheek firmly placed on her head, every now and then being exchanged for his lips.

Her leg moved, wrapping itself over his, praying he wouldn't push her away. But he never did. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist and settled her against his firm, masculine body as his breathing grew steadier and everything around her seemed to calm.

"This is good, isn't it?" he asked, his voice slow and dreamy, and she knew he was teetering on the edge of sleep.

"No," she sighed, closing her own eyes and giving into the moment. "It's the best."