Disclaimer: I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir or anything else recognizable found herein.

A/N: Shows up to the fandom three years late with Starbucks! I binge-watched this show on a whim after I finished Dragons: Race to the Edge and I FELL IN LOVE! I couldn't help but devour all the fan art, and now we're here!

I am MariChat trash; it's my fave side of the Love Square because Friends to Lovers is my jam.

This story takes place four years post-canon and has mild canon divergence after Glaciator because I am technologically inept and don't know how to stream any of the latest episodes.

If my rambling so far hasn't turned you away, please enjoy my first Miraculous fic! (I can't believe my first M-rated fic is for a children's cartoon -_-)

Warnings: adult situations, mild language, fluff and (eventual) angst

Summary: MariChat FWB AU. Pining away for someone isn't easy, especially when there's a perfectly attractive person right next to you. A stray thought leads to a crazy idea leads to a whirlwind of passion that leaves Marinette and Chat Noir in even more of a mess than when everything started.

All Your Love Is Revenge

Ch. 1: It Started With a Whisper

It's such a small and unnecessary thought that starts everything: Chat Noir is kind of cute.

It's weird because Marinette knows this. Objectively, of course. The skin-tight leather left very little to the imagination and in the four years since he became Chat Noir, his body had only become more defined. His physical strength had also led to a few intrusive thoughts that she'd rather not dwell on. He still had a boyish, mischievous smile, and his hair was still wild and gleaming gold. At eighteen - presumably - Chat was the kind of guy that girls would write love poems for if life was a sitcom.

So there was really no actual reason for her to think those words.

But it was late and she was tired and he was there. She was running on fumes, caffeine, and sugar, but Friday Night Movie Marathons had been a tradition for the past three years and she didn't have the heart to turn him away.

So, it was all his fault, really. The fact that her room was set up in a way that made it seem like everything had been leading to this was also his fault.

The first thing to go were all the posters of Adrien.

Chat's balcony visit after her run-in with Glaciator had seemed like a one-time thing. It was kind and sweet and it reasserted in her mind that she cared deeply for her partner even if she couldn't reciprocate the feelings he had for Ladybug.

Then she got targeted by another akuma! Alya made a joke that she was going to give Chloé a run for her money for most akumatizations - a gross over exaggeration! Chloé was in the double digits at the time and the number just kept growing since - and Chat Noir apparently agreed. He had shown up on her balcony and made some joke about her being akuma bait and followed with, "What kind of superhero would I be if I didn't watch over you, Princess?"

She'd rolled her eyes but didn't kick him out and somehow "watching over her" became regular hangouts. When winter approached, she figured the least she could do was invite him into her room. Which meant that the posters had to go. She wouldn't be able to stand his teasing, and even though he had no idea she was Ladybug, she didn't think she would be able to look at him after. The collage on her desktop soon followed when she decided to play Ultimate Mecha Strike III with him for the first time. Another night, he had tugged on the string of her oversized copy of Adrien's schedule. She had managed to tackle him to the ground, rip it off its hinges, and throw it under her bed before he could catch a good glimpse of it. He was obviously curious, but had enough self-preservation instincts to not even look towards her bed until he left.

The schedule had been shredded and never replaced. She had his schedule memorized, anyway.

Alya had naturally been suspicious of the sudden lack of Adrien in her room, but she had managed to stutter out that she had chosen to focus on the real Adrien instead of being distracted by his pictures from her eventual and inevitable conquest of his heart. Alya, bless her soul, had wholeheartedly approved of her newfound drive. That nothing had happened between them in three years didn't even seem to register.

The blackout curtains came next.

During one of their early Movie Marathons, they had severely overestimated their ability to stay up till dawn and had fallen asleep during a viewing of Dawn of the Dead. When they awoke, Chat was detransformed and in his panic had thrown a pillow into Marinette's face so hard she had fallen from her chaise onto the ground headfirst. After he finished burrowing into a blanket burrito and apologizing to her a million times, Marinette had brought cheese for him and decided that such a thing should never happen again.

Sure, the logical thing would be to limit their interaction as superhero and civilian, but he looked so. . . happy every time she offered a new movie for him to see, that she felt like he needed it. Maybe he didn't have any friends beneath the mask and that was why he'd befriended Marinette - a girl he only saw occasionally because of akumas - so quickly. Chat was willing to risk his identity, and Ladybug's presumed wrath, just to spend a few more minutes with his friend, and she wasn't willing to take that from him.

It wasn't that difficult to convince her parents to buy her blackout curtains; she was a known lover of sleep, after all. As long as she promised to only use them on weekends to keep out the morning sun so she wouldn't be even later than usual to school, they were happy to acquiesce to her eccentric request. Convincing her father to add shutters to the hatch leading to her balcony was a bit more difficult, but Tom Dupain was not a suspicious man, and he loved doting on his only daughter.

Chat had almost cried when she explained what they were for.

That, of course, led to sleepovers. Which led to extra pillows, and a neon green quilt she had made on a whim that Chat quickly claimed as his. Which, eventually, led to cuddling on her bed through the night. Without the fear of her discovering his secret identity, whatever concerns had been holding him back completely dissolved and Marinette frequently woke in pitch darkness enveloped in heat as Chat's limbs wrapped around her body in a viselike grip.

The fact that he was a cuddler shouldn't have been a surprise. Chat Noir was animalistic in a way that Ladybug wasn't. Not that ladybugs were known to be wild, but neither was she dying to sniff at every flower she saw. Chat was wild, though. He liked head pets and chin scratches; he curled up for cat naps. He liked placing his head on her lap and she was pretty sure he had kneaded her thighs once. He purred!

So, it was only half a surprise that he was a cuddler. It worked out, as she was a cuddler too.

It wasn't weird. Not at all!

The last thing to change, and the most surprising, was the intimacy.

It had happened so quickly and quietly that she hadn't noticed how easily they moved around each other. As Ladybug, they moved in synch as if they had been fighting alongside one another since they could walk. As Marinette, they shared dinners and chatted amiably in a way that bordered on domesticity.

It didn't occur to her that she wasn't supposed to be comfortable enough with him to walk around in a bathrobe. She trusted him with her life on a regular basis, she could trust him with her body. Especially since she knew he was devoted to her alter ego and didn't look at her the way other boys might. Even though puberty had blessed her with her mother's slim waist and wide hips if not her father's height, she still wore jeans and jackets that hid them well enough, while Ladybug wore tight spandex that left nothing to the imagination. She had seen the fanart. It would be flattering if it weren't creepy.

It didn't occur to her that most boys didn't enjoy braiding a random friend's hair or painting their nails.

She didn't stop to think that finishing each other's sentences was a hallmark of togetherness.

She hadn't even realized that they were so. . . together until one day she absentmindedly fed him some nachos so that he wouldn't have to stop playing a video game without even looking up from the sketch she was working on. It was such a natural movement that she didn't have to think about it, and he didn't even flinch. It wasn't until his lips brushed against her fingers that she realized what she was doing and she pulled her hands to her chest, face burning crimson. Chat didn't so much as look her way.

She did her best to not think how the only time she had seen such a thing was when watching her parents.

She certainly didn't think about the dream she had where they were married and had three kids. How even though she called them Hugo, Emma, and Louis, instead of being the picture perfect children of a model, they all had leather cat ears and tails. How even though she had woken up screaming "That's not how genetics work!" every once in a while the dream came back.

She really, really didn't think about how she had stopped waking up in a cold sweat from those dreams, and instead woke with a sleepy smile and feeling extra cuddly.

That was normal, right? They spent so much time together. She had convinced herself that she was his only solace in the world - save for Ladybug, whom he saw briefly during akuma fights and the occasional patrol. She couldn't control her dreams; might as well adapt. Right?

But none of that really explained the thought, Chat Noir is kind of cute.

She was tired, this being her last year of lycée put all kinds of pressure on her to gain stellar grades, to study for le bac, to prepare for university and apply for internships. Add to that the almost weekly akuma attacks and she was barely functioning. Yet she refused to turn Chat away - maybe he felt the exact same way, worrying about his future now that they were almost officially adults.

It was nearing one in the morning, they had chosen a cheesy rom-com to watch, and Chat was in the middle of throwing his head back and laughing his large, joyful laugh when she realized it. And then she realized she was watching him instead of the movie, and had been doing so for so long that she wasn't sure what the characters' names were anymore. And then she was speaking without thinking, and honestly it was all his fault.

"I wish I could love you instead."

Chat stiffened suddenly, a thousand emotions passing over his masked face before turning to her with an overly-large grin. "Thinking about your mystery boy again?" Marinette blushed because, no, she wasn't thinking about Adrien at all. "You know, it's not really fur that you know who I love and you won't tell me who you love."

It's not really fair that she was who he loved. Sort of. Except, not really, because he loved the illusion a couple of spots and superpowers allowed her to cast. It sort of cheapened the knowledge that somebody loved her, since he didn't love who she really was.

"You volunteered that information, so that's your own fault." She used her most snooty voice and stuck her tongue out at him. He poked her nose with the tip of a claw and she turned to face the screen. And immediately blushed as she saw the stars rolling around in bed. Rom-Coms sure had changed since she was a kid! "Love is stupid anyway. Why can't it be as easy as it is for them?"

Chat seemed to choke down laughter, "They're not in love! Haven't you been paying attention?"

Marinette blushed again as she remembered what she had been focusing on. "It's been a long week."

Chat nodded in solidarity and she wondered once again what kind of life he led behind the mask. He seemed to shake whatever thoughts he had and instead turned his attention back to the movie. "They're not in love, they're jilted. It's angry hate sex that unites them."

"That's comedic?" Marinette wondered.

"Friends with benefits are very in right now."

She sighed wistfully, "Now, there's an idea. Just cut out romance completely." She was tired, really, that was it. And he kept staring at her as if she deserved all the attention in the world. No one ever looked at plain Marinette that way. Especially not Adrien. "Then, instead of love, I wish I could have benefits with you."

A thick, charged silence descended in the room and she realized what she had said two seconds too late. Even the background chatter of the movie disappeared. Marinette was pretty sure she had blacked out somehow even though her eyes were wide open.

Then Chat coughed nervously, and asked with a strained voice, "Are you serious?"

This is where you laugh and say, 'of course not, silly kitty!' the logical part of her brain screeched, but her tongue refused to comply. Because she looked at Chat, at the tense set of his shoulders, and the hopeful look in his eyes, and she realized that maybe he knew exactly how she felt. It wasn't fair that they were both stuck in such hopeless cases! Adrien would never love her, but she couldn't stop loving him, which meant Ladybug would never love Chat Noir.

"Love is stupid," she repeated, her voice quiet but resolute. "And yes, I would love to have benefits with you."

Something sharp and dangerous flashed in his eyes and that was all the warning she got before he descended on her, hands clasping her cheeks, mouth hungrily on hers. It was rough; there was teeth and spit and she thought for a moment that this wasn't what a first kiss was supposed to be like. Then she remembered Chat's words. It's angry hate sex that unites them and she felt herself shiver at the thought.

Chat purred in appreciation before suddenly pulling away, keeping her at arm's length with his hands on her shoulders. "Wait, when you say benefits, do you mean. . .?" His voice trailed off, seemingly afraid to say the forbidden word.

What did she mean? Kissing? Definitely, that was fun. Groping? Would probably be even more fun! But did she actually mean everything that came along with the friends with benefits label?

"Sex," she answered, some of Ladybug's surety slipping into her voice. "I mean sex."

Chat's face closely resembled a tomato, and she wasn't very sure he was breathing. She almost giggled at the idea that she broke the Casanova wannabe. "Like, right now?"

His fingers flexed nervously on her shoulders and that time she giggled, realizing that he was trying his best to not sound overeager. "Like, right now."

"Oh, thank God," he lunged for her and she found herself on her back, his body flush against hers. She couldn't think about how fast everything was happening. She couldn't think of anything but how hot she felt, waves of heat enveloping her from her head to her toes, coalescing into a knot somewhere in the middle.

The borderline pornographic sounds of the movie interjected in the moment and she couldn't help but snort into the kiss. She dissolved into giggles as he pulled away. "Don't laugh!" he chided, but he was holding back laughter as well which just made her laugh louder.

"Turn the dumb movie off!"

He harrumphed but hurried to comply and suddenly the room was as black as night. Something inside her twisted as she realized that meant he could detransform, he could take his clothes off, he could be with her in every sense of the word.

"Can you lead me to the bed?" She knew he could see everything perfectly with his night-vision and she didn't even question how she was managing to be so forward about everything. He's Chat, she's always been weirdly comfortable with him. Ladybug may keep him at arm's length, partly to protect their identities and partly to discourage his crush, but Marinette was free to be herself in a way she wasn't even with Alya.

She expected him to tug her to her feet and walk her through the darkness, but instead he swept her off the ground and carried her like a bride across the threshold. She flushed at the thought before reminding herself that there was nothing romantic about this moment.

His surprise gentleness wore off when they reached the bed and he let her fall to the mattress like a sack of flour. She had to cover her mouth with her hands to stop the surprised shriek as well as the fit of giggles that followed. She kicked out in his direction but failed to make contact, and his snickering made her think she was off by a mile.

She heard him whisper familiar words and a green light blinded her just before he straddled her hips. His lips landed on the bridge of her nose and the surprised noise he made let her know that was an accident.

"Why would you detransform right now?" she asked petulantly. Everything would be more difficult if they were both essentially blind.

He sucked his teeth, "I just wanted to, you know. . ." the bed shifted with his movement and she could picture him waving his arms around demonstratively. "To get on with it."

"Eager, Kitty?"

She meant to be teasing, but suddenly he was flush against her once again, his hands framing her face, lips brushing against hers as he said, "Very."

Her breath stuttered and she didn't think as she reached around his head to pull him down to her lips. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she could feel something against her most intimate spot and it took her a moment to realize it was his dick. It's not the first time she'd felt it. He's a cuddler and a teenage boy and sometimes in the morning things happen. After the first few times, they all but ignored its surprise appearances. It's just a biological reaction, nothing to be overly shocked about.

But this was different. This was because of her, because of Marinette. Not because of Ladybug or nature. She had done that to him, and it made her feel powerful somehow.

Her hips hitched upwards and he groaned into her mouth. She felt overheated suddenly, and she wriggled as she did her best to slip out of her pajama pants with zero space between her, the bed, and Chat. When he realized what she was doing, he eagerly gave her the space to strip down and chucked his own shirt over his head.

She tried her best to not think about what he looked like, and he did his best to make her forget about everything but his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her thighs. She ran her hands over his back and over the planes of the muscles she had seen hundreds of times through his suit and even in the darkness, unable to really see them, she blushed.

She reached lower, to the waistband of his pants, somehow managed to unbutton them and chucked them down to his thighs. Then, running on pure adrenaline, she reached into his boxer briefs. It was smoother than she expected, hard and warm, and she stroked it in curiosity, not even thinking about the sensuality in the motion.

Chat gripped her wrist tightly and she wondered if she did something wrong before he nipped at her lower lip. "You need to stop that if you want this to last longer than two minutes, Purr-incess."

She pulled her hand back, surprised at his words, suddenly shy. "You'd better stop making puns if you want this to continue."

He made an affronted noise, but his fingers tugged at the buttons of her pajama top and she was suddenly aware of what it was they were doing. She wondered if this was a bad idea. Wondered if this would affect the way Ladybug works with Chat Noir. It shouldn't; their weekly sleepovers hadn't changed anything, and this was just one more sleepover. It was sex, sure, but they weren't any more together than they were before. Friends with benefits wasn't that much different than friends that act like a married couple without realizing it.

The only possible problem she could foresee was what would happen if he found out she was Ladybug. Would he be angry that she let him tell her all his hopes and dreams without letting him know that there was no hope? Would he be happy that his first time was with his first love? Does it count as taking advantage of him, knowing that he would happily be with Ladybug-her, but not her-her?

Then his mouth was on her breast, and she couldn't think of anything at all.

She woke up to the early morning sun. The shutters on the hatch had been helpfully left open so that she could see she was alone in her bed. Her pajamas had been folded and left at the foot of her bed and there was an unfamiliar ache between her legs to convince her that nope, that wasn't a dream. She totally just lost her virginity to Chat Noir.

At least it's Saturday, she thought gratefully. She didn't have to see anybody until Monday, at which point her thoughts and feelings should be right back to the status quo.

"Marinette," Tkki's melodious voice sounded one part disappointed, and two parts angry.

She smiled nervously at her kwami, in no way prepared for the lecture that was sure to follow.

A/N: Are you still with me? This is probably as M-rated as any future scenes are going to go. I know, from personal reading experience, that there are much raunchier stories on this site, but with my luck, mine would be the one that gets deleted for being inappropriate. Besides, this is the first smut I've ever written, so I'd rather not try too hard.

These two are dorks, and their first time would be filled with laughable moments, fight me.

The title for this chapter comes from the song Everybody Talks by Neon Trees, and the fic title comes from Bad Romance by Lady Gaga. I started writing this at the same time I was writing Unforgettable where all the chapter titles are pulled straight from the chapter's dialogue, and honestly I don't want to think that hard anymore. This is purely self-indulgent shippy-ness.

Please let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what you thought could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody