Marinette pushed open the heavy brass door to 'Brass Works', revealing a world straight out of her wildest dreams. The steampunk bar, tucked away in a cobblestone alley, greeted her with a mesmerising display of Victorian-era marvels infused with futuristic flair.

The air hummed with the rhythmic clinking of gears and the soft hiss of steam, creating an ambiance that was both enchanting and mysterious. Copper pipes snaked along the walls, intertwined with exposed clockwork mechanisms that seemed to breathe life into the space. Edison bulbs hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, amber glow over the polished wood and leather furnishings.

Marinette's eyes widened as she took in the eclectic décor—a blend of industrial revolution aesthetics and imaginative inventions. The bar itself was a masterpiece of polished brass and stained wood, adorned with vintage glassware and rows of peculiar bottles filled with shimmering liquids of all colours.

Patrons, dressed in elaborate steampunk attire, mingled around, their costumes adorned with gears, goggles, and lace. Some sat in plush armchairs upholstered in rich velvet, while others conversed near displays of antique gadgets and brass sculptures that adorned the shelves.

Marinette found herself drawn deeper into the enchanting atmosphere, the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation weaving a tapestry of excitement around her. As she approached the bar, she couldn't suppress a smile—this was the perfect setting for inspiration, adventure, and perhaps even a touch of romance.

She had meticulously chosen her outfit for the steampunk-themed evening, wearing a vintage-inspired ensemble that reflected the charm and eccentricity of the era.

Her outfit consisted of a fitted, high-collared blouse with lace detailing, tucked into a tailored vest adorned with brass buttons. Over this, she wore a knee-length skirt made of rich velvet fabric, its deep burgundy hue complementing her dark hair. A wide belt cinched her waist, featuring a brass buckle that matched the other accents in her attire.

Her accessories added a touch of steampunk flair. She wore a pair of lace-up boots with intricate brocade patterns, their heels just high enough to give her a confident stride. A pocket watch dangled from a chain at her hip, a functional yet stylish addition to her ensemble.

To complete her look, her hair had been styled into soft waves, framing her face elegantly. A small top hat sat jauntily on her head, adorned with a cluster of feathers (fake, of course) and gears, adding a whimsical touch to her outfit.

She'd been working on it for weeks, ever since she'd learned they'd bagged the reservation. 'Brass Works' was one of the most sought-after bars in the centre of Paris, with months upon months of waiting lists. Even Adrien throwing his name in didn't help get the reservation sooner. But now they were here - all of them. They were ready once again for a fun-filled night, one which had been on the calendar for around 8 months.

Marinette glanced around the vibrant steampunk bar, taking in the whirlwind of gears, steam, and laughter that surrounded her. Her friends—Alya, Nino, Juleka, and Rose—were engrossed in conversation and exploration, their enthusiasm infectious. Luka and Zoé were sitting off to the side. And as she stood solo, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for Adrien's company.

"Hey, Marinette, you okay?" Alya's voice interrupted her thoughts. Her face was etched with concern.

Marinette smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, I'm good! Just enjoying the ambiance."

Alya nodded knowingly, her eyes filled with understanding. "He'll be here soon."

They walked over to the table, Marinette shuffling in to give Juleka and Rose a hug before giving Luka and Zoé a quick glance. He stood behind her, face buried in her hair as they laughed at an inside joke, lost in their own little bubble. She wasn't jealous...but at the same time, she was. She didn't want Luka, or Zoé, but she did want Adrien there with her, giving her the love and affection she'd been dying for, for the whole week.

Alya leaned down, her warm breath hitting Marinette's ear as she spoke. "I can't believe Adrien's news."

Marinette furrowed her brow, intrigued and slightly apprehensive. "Adrien's news?"

They hadn't spoken about anything to do with his job since he'd been gone. She knew he'd been meeting a lot with the directors of 'Without Hope'. He'd seemed happy, so she had purposely been avoiding the conversation that she knew was going to happen. He'd gotten the job and he was leaving her again. She knew it wouldn't be the end of them, and part of her thinking it would be the end of this fantasy she was living in.

Alya lowered her voice. "I'm really surprised he hasn't told you, being his 'fake fiancée' and all."

Her nerves kicked up a notch. What had he done?

"I think Lover Boy might be taking the 'fake fiancé' role a bit too seriously," Alya continued with a mischievous grin.

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Alya leaned closer. "I overheard from a reliable source that Adrien is considering quitting acting. And guess why."

Marinette's mind raced, trying to connect the dots. "No."

Alya nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Maybe this whole acting gig is no longer appealing to him, especially after experiencing a taste of 'real life' with his amazing fake fiancée."

Marinette blushed at Alya's playful implication. "Alya, you can't be serious..."

Alya winked. "You might not tell me everything anymore, but your new boyfriend can't keep his mouth shut. I'm so glad Nino's crap at keeping secrets."

Marinette's cheeks grew warmer as she processed Alya's teasing suggestion. The idea of Adrien considering a major life change because of their pretend engagement seemed surreal yet oddly intriguing.

"I don't know what to say...," Marinette murmured, her thoughts swirling with a mix of emotions.

Alya nudged her playfully. "Well, let's wait and see what happens when he gets back from London. Who knows? Maybe this is all happening for you!"

Marinette laughed nervously, unsure of what the future held for her and Adrien. But for now, she was content to enjoy the night with her friends, the steampunk bar providing a magical backdrop to their lively conversations and playful speculations about Adrien's surprising career news.

She tried to keep her mind on something else and her eyes away from the door, instead focusing on Kim and Alix's latest competition of eating spicy bar mix.

The bar was filled with mainly young professionals. Though, the majority of these were just beginning their career journey, unlike their gang. Added to the fact that at one point they had been the saviours of Paris on an almost daily basis, they also consisted of two Olympians, a reporter, a DJ, an aspiring designer, plus five out of six members of an up-and-coming rock band.

Marinette pulled her phone from her bag in the hope that Adrien had called or messaged. Her heart fluttered as she remembered their last conversation. They really hadn't shied away from saying they loved each other, which just made her all the more needier for his arrival.

With a sigh, she placed her phone back in her bag and turned to speak to Alya, when two large hands on her hips stopped her in her tracks. Hot breath tickled her neck as she heard the husky voice she'd dreamed about for the past six days.

"Can I get the beautiful lady a drink?"

"Yes, please," she said, afraid to turn and see his face. She knew the moment they met eye to eye, she would need to ask him and question the "what ifs" of their relationship. As much as she wanted him here, she wasn't ready to deal with what he was going to tell her. Would she end up feeling gutted that he was leaving? Or guilty he'd quit his job?

She placed one hand on his and felt the smooth edges of his ring, of his Miraculous.

He laughed in her ear as he began to move away. "How about wine, for now?" His hands gave her a quick squeeze before trailing across her back and away from her body. Oh, goodness! He may as well just kill her now, because there was no way she was surviving this relationship. Every touch was pure oxygen blasted on the flame inside her, and if (when) they progressed to a more...adult...relationship, she was certain she was going to self-combust.

She glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Adrien and Félix making their way towards the bar. Adrien's presence was unmistakable, commanding attention effortlessly as he moved through the crowd.

He looked like a three-course meal in expensive clothing.

She marvelled at his attire. He looked stylish yet understated in an ensemble that oozed charm and sophistication. He wore a fitted black waistcoat over a crisp white shirt, the top button left casually undone and showing off a sliver of skin, her unhinged state jumping back into the driving seat and wanting to touch and taste his revealed flesh. The waistcoat accentuated his muscular physique, hinting at a level of refinement that was both classic and contemporary.

His dark trousers were impeccably tailored, tapering down to polished black shoes that completed the sleek look. His tousled blond hair caught the ambient light, giving him an air of casual elegance that turned heads wherever he went.

And that butt... No wonder it was sought after by all the top actors!

As they approached the bar, Marinette couldn't help but notice the subtle confidence in Adrien's demeanour. He was at ease yet utterly captivating—a perfect blend of effortless style and undeniable charisma.

The women around them stole glances, some even pausing their conversations to admire Adrien's presence. Marinette couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had, even as she tried to focus on her friends and the lively atmosphere of the steampunk bar.

Her thoughts momentarily lingered on the intriguing dynamics of Adrien's world. A world she was a key part in.

She took a deep breath, determined to silence the persistent "what ifs" that threatened to cloud her judgement. Adrien was by her side now, he was her boyfriend, and his unwavering love and devotion had been made abundantly clear time and time again.

She looked back over her shoulder, her heart skipping a beat as she got locked in Adrien's mesmerising green gaze. The intensity in his eyes softened instantly, a warm smile spreading in response to her presence.

In that fleeting moment of connection, Marinette felt a surge of reassurance wash over her. They had faced challenges and uncertainties before, but their love was steadfast, a beacon of hope amidst life's complexities.

They would weather any storm together, because they were committed to fighting for their relationship, regardless of the demands of movie roles or...impending unemployment.

"Earth to Marinette." Alya placed a hand on her arm, pulling her attention away from Adrien, before breaking into a story about her latest scoop...or something. Marinette's concentration wasn't there. It was at the bar with her husband-to-be.

Lost in her own thoughts, she never noticed Adrien returning until a glass was placed in front of her and his smell overpowered her thoughts. She turned her head to meet his eyes and immediately felt the need to get closer. To let him explore her body the way no one had before.

Adrien lowered his head, kissing her chastly on the lips, leaving her desperate for more. She pushed her hand up his chest, her thumb stroking over the bare skin on show before tracing round to the back of his neck. She pulled him down, her lips already buzzing with the excitement of having his against hers.

"Is it true? Have you quit acting?"

"I'm coming home, Bug. I'm staying here – with you."

Marinette's heart fluttered as Adrien's words sank in. He was staying in Paris — for her. The realisation was overwhelming in the best possible way, igniting a whirlwind of emotions. Her mind raced with thoughts of everything yet to come. A house, a home - maybe even, at some point, a family.

As Adrien's eyes held hers, they were so earnest and full of affection, helping Marinette to feel a surge of courage. The air crackled with anticipation as she inched closer, her heart pounding in her chest.

She tilted her head, their lips meeting, and time stood still. Her senses were alive with the sensation of Adrien's touch, the taste of sweet possibility. It was a kiss born of unspoken dreams, of hopes realised in the tender embrace of a moment. In that shared breath, Marinette felt a surge of joy and contentment.

As they parted, her eyes met his once more, and she saw a mirrored reflection of her own elation. In that instant, she knew that their story was only just beginning — a tale of love written in stolen glances and whispered confessions, of two hearts finding solace in the warmth of each other's presence.

"Marinette, I think we need to -"

"Agreste, here! Now!" Before Adrien could finish his sentence, he was called over to the group of guys.

He gave her a sorrowful smile before heading over to where the others were gathered, Marinette suddenly realising the segregation between the guys and the girls.

Marinette watched as Adrien was embraced and smacked on the back, and she wanted to scream. Had no one seen their kiss? Did no one understand that she wanted Adrien to herself for the night?

Nino broke away from the crowd and headed over to Alya, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Don't be back too late. I have a surprise for you under my clothes," Alya said, rubbing her hands up her boyfriend's chest.

"What's happening?" Marinette asked, noticing Adrien being manhandled out of the doorway with his eyes firmly placed on hers.

"Nothing to worry about, Boss! He'll be in one piece for you tomorrow, and we'll make sure he doesn't get a tattoo!" Nino dropped Marinette a wink before heading towards where the others had already disappeared.

Marinette's head shot to the doorway just in time to see Adrien blow her a kiss back. What the hell was going on?

"So, Marinette, how would you feel about a night out with your girls?" Alya slung an arm around Marinette's shoulders, before she found someone pulling her in the opposite direction.

"And of course, that means me too." Anthony had appeared from nowhere coming to stand by her side, and she couldn't help but feel she was being made the centre of attention.

She just wished she knew why.