#ladydrunk

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Marinaked Archive

AO3

*

Marinette woke up to a dry mouth, a swollen tongue, and a pounding headache.

"Blurgh," she mumbled, rolling over in her bed. Everything hurt, and everything felt weirdly sticky. "Tikki, can you—"

She didn't manage to finish her sentence. Instead, her throat seized shut on her words, her stomach attempting to leap straight into her mouth. "Urp!" She collapsed in on herself, squeezing her lips shut, and pressed her hand over her mouth to hold in her vomit.

She felt hexagon-patterned spandex press against her lips instead of fingerprinted skin, and her stomach flipped all over again. Oh, Tikki—had she fallen asleep as Ladybug? If her parents walked in on her...

She tore open her eyelids, blinked as the light speared through her eyes. "Gah!" she shrieked, covering her eyes with her arm. She rolled in bed, twisting herself in the sheets, turned towards the door—wait. This wasn't her room. Too large, too white, too bright.

"Agh!" a familiar voice yelped from next to the bed.

Ladybug's muscles all contracted at once, launching out of bed with a squeal and dragging all the sheets along for the ride. She squeezed her whole body, braced to hit the floor—but instead she felt herself slam into somebody's knee, tumbling bodily into the chair where the other girl had been sleeping and knocking them both onto the floor, and suddenly the Hero of Paris found herself pinned beneath the frozen—and steadily reddening—Paris Princess, tangled together in a confusing mess of sheets.

"Ch-Chloé?" Ladybug squeaked. Then all the blood rushed to her head at once with the pressure of Stoneheart's fist, and she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as the light from the Hotel Grand Paris' floor-to-ceiling windows stabbed right through her eyes into the top of her skull all over again.

"I'm sorry!" Chloé gasped, and Ladybug felt a sharp spike of pain as Chloé's palm pressed hard into her shoulder; she was trying to pull away, only for her body to jerk taut against the sheets wrapped around her legs and other arm. "Just... just gimme a sec!"

"Take your time," Ladybug mumbled, turning her face away from the window and pressing it against the carpeting. Ah... sweet soft floor. Felt great against her crushing headache.

"Lemme just... hang on," Chloé said. "I, uh... Pollen? Help?"

The interior of the sheets flashed yellow. "Yes, My Queen!" a tiny voice said, and the sheets began to unravel from within.

Finally, after a minute of Chloé growing increasingly flustered, she pulling her hand loose. "Okay, I think I've got it."

Less than a minute later, the two of them were free of each other. Ladybug had elected to climb back into bed and bury her face into the pillow to block out the light. , while Chloé—who seemed to be steadfastly avoiding looking at her—was sitting on the ground, leaning against the foot of the bed.

"Did you seriously... sleep in the chair?" Ladybug mumbled. "Thought you had too much..." She raised her hand, spun it, trying to force the word through the cotton stuffing that seemed to be filling her skull. "...'Dignity' for that."

"Yeah, well," Chloé said, then huffed. "Someone had to watch your drunk ass to make sure you didn't, I dunno, jump out the window or something."

Ladybug groaned. "Akuma?"

Chloé snorted. "Nope," she said. "Far as I can tell, you got plastered all on your own."

Memories of last night suddenly flashed in Ladybug's head—she'd finally reached a decision to talk to Chat, to tell him everything, except then she'd pretty much gone into meltdown, and Tikki hadn't been able to talk her down. Somehow, in her panic, she'd come to the conclusion (which, she now realized with a squeeze of her sinuses, was definitely the panic talking) that since Drunkinette had been brave enough to tell Chat pretty much whatever she wanted, a little wine to sooth her nerves would be just right. And then somewhere along the line "a little" had turned into "a lot."

She was never trusting Alya's recommendation for "liquid courage" again.

"How bad was I?" Ladybug said, folding the pillow over onto her face. The walls probably wouldn't be able to judge her, since they didn't have brains, but she couldn't be too careful.

"You were fine!" Pollen said.

Chloé snorted. "Well, let's see," she said. "You showed up at patrol unannounced, basically molested Chat, spent most of the flirting with—with me—" Her voice suddenly broke. "And—and you somehow managed to completely forget my identity."

Ladybug stiffened. Oh, Tikki. Poor Chat. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he'd been—he'd stated, repeatedly, that he didn't think he could do what she did during Dark Cupid, not if she wasn't in her right mind. Getting exactly what he wanted in exactly the wrong way? It must've been hell.

"Flirting with Chloé" was another pretty good indicator that she had been utterly smashed. She'd never exactly made a secret of her attraction to girls—it wasn't particularly anyone's business, but she never really denied it—but she'd never found Chloé of all people particularly attractive, and she'd always... well, up until last night at least, she'd tried her best to avoid pushing Chloé out of the closet. Apparently, Ladydrunk either didn't need as much emotional attachment to get physically attracted to someone, or she'd somehow managed to get over the gratingness of Chloé's personality.

"Sorry," Ladybug mumbled. "I didn't... mean to make either of you uncomfortable."

"Well, you did," Chloé snapped. "What the hell was that even about?" She heard Chloé stand up. "You're the most responsible person I know, and you got wasted on a school night?"

Ladybug's muscles seized. "Oh my gods!" she shrieked, bolting out of bed and trying to ignore the excruciating rush of blood to her aching head. "It's Tuesday!" She tried to dash toward the window, only for her foot to slip on the sheets that were still piled on the floor. She barely managed to catch herself on Chloé's overnight chair.

"Relax! Yikes," Chloé said, checking her phone. "It's only... six in the morning. You're fine, you've got like an hour."

Ladybug frowned, grumbling. (Also, hour and 45 minutes, considering when she usually woke up, but Chloé didn't need to know that.)

"Seriously," Chloé said, "what the heck were you doing that needed to be that drunk?"

Ladybug closed her eyes, breathed in through her nose. "I... Um, over the weekend, I..." She pressed her palm agaist her forehead, sinking into the velvet of the chair. "I found out Chat's civilian identity is the boy I have a crush on."

Chloé stared at her.

"Oh my," Pollen said.

"Huh," Chloé added.

"Yyyyyep," Ladybug groaned.

Chloé pursed her lips, then nodded. "Pollen, go get Jean," she said. "We're gonna need a lot of coffee."

Marinaked Archive

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Ladybug rolled her arm, pointed to Queen Bee. "You got... good int-in-intui..." She snorted. "You know things."

”What do we do?” Chat whispered, trying to hold up his Lady. She staggered against him, giggling.

”Have you ever been drunk?” Bee said.

Chat shook his head. “Not once ever.”

Bee rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised,” she said, reaching forward to poke Ladybug between her eyebrows. (Ladybug’s eyes crossed, and she whined—and Chat’s suit suddenly got a lot tighter.)

”You have?” Chat said, his voice strangled, trying to take his mind off the cuddly girl in skintight spandex who was currently attached to his side.

Bee scoffed, flipping her ponytail. “What, you think I can get through a political event without being utterly sloshed?” she said. “Your faith in me is astounding.” She put her hand under Ladybug’s chin, tilting her face up. “First thing—”

”Hey sexy,” Ladybug interrupted. “Mmm. Sexy bee.”

Bee went beet red, and Chat gagged on his tongue.

”Sexy kitty,” she continued, slumping over into Chat’s shoulder. “Wanna... abs.”

”Okay!” Bee squeaked. “She, uh, she needs... water!” She nodded to herself, pointedly looking away from Ladybug. “Water, right, yes.”

Chat felt Ladybug’s hands begin to trace gentle circles across his chest, and it was like a red-hot steel rod had been shoved up his spine. “Right!” he yelped. “Okay, water, sure, sounds... good?”

”Mm, yeah,” Ladybug whispered into his ear, her hot breath tickling his neck. “I’m thirsty.”

Chat gulped. He was so utterly doomed.

”She—she needs a bed,” Bee stammered. “Do you... know where she lives?”

”And how the crap would I know that, Chloé?” Chat shouted. “I have no idea who she—”

He was interrupted by the feeling of his bell zipper descending as Ladybug tugged it down his chest.

He gulped. “L-Ladybug?”

She kept pulling, slowwwwwllly unzipping the front of his suit, tooth by agonizing tooth. ”You saw me naked, isss only fair...”

Chat snatched her wrist. ”What are you talking about?” Chat said. “I was the one who got stripped today, not you.”

Ladybug giggled. “Oh right,” she said, releasing the bell and tracing her finger down the newly exposed flesh. “Wrong one.”

Chat shivered with guilty delight—she was going to kill him.

”Okay, Ladybug,” Queen Bee said, grabbing their leader’s shoulders and pulling her away from Chat. “Let’s—”

Ladybug clumsily slapped Bee’s hand away. “Wait your turn!” She turned back to Chat, pressing her cheek against his abs, and sighed in pleasure.

Chat and Bee met each other’s eyes in shock. If there wasn’t steam billowing from the neck of his suit, Chat would eat a whole wheel of Camembert.

“Doesn’t Rena know?” Bee whispered.

”Date,” Chat responded in a low tone. “Cara makes her turn her phone off.”

Queen Bee closed her eyes, swallowed, pushed her bangs out of her face. “Okay,” she said. “I have an idea.” She cupped Ladybug’s face with her hands. “Hey, Ladybug?”

The spotted heroine jerked to attention. “Yes I am Loodyboog,” she said, her eyes wandering.

Chat snorted.

“Think you can swing over a few buildings with us?”

Ladybug unslung her yo-yo and began to spin it, forcing Chat to leap out of the way lest he be brained with it again. “Course I can,” she slurred. “Watch me go.”

*

Queen Bee touched down on the carpet just outside the Hotel Grand Paris, not even slowing as she transitioned smoothly from swinging to marching straight past the doorman, through the front door, and into the lobby. “Antoine!” she shouted, marching straight up to the receptionist.

He jerked, staring at her. “Mademoiselle Bourgeois!” he said. “We weren’t expecting you back for another forty minutes.”

“Emergency,” she said. “Pollen, buzz off.” Her transformation fell, and Chloé pointed toward the front door, where a clearly inebriated Ladybug was stumbling through the door, supported by her partner’s shoulder. “Do we have a room available for Ladybug?”

Antoine boggled. “Erm... yes,” he said, tapping frantically at his keyboard. “We have several rooms available... I suggest the one right next to yours.”

”Perfect,” Chloé said. “Thank you, Antoine.”

”Where’s Queen Bee?” Ladybug said breathlessly, peering around the lobby with wide eyes.

”Bugaboo, we need to go upstairs now,” Chat said, holding up her head and steering her toward the elevator.

”Send up water!” Chloé called behind her as she dashed after the heroes. “And coffee! She’ll need it!”

*

Ladybug conked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

”I can’t leave her,” Chat said, staring down at her peaceful form. “Not like this.”

”You’re welcome to stay,” Chloé said, knowing he wouldn’t.

Chat shook his head. “My—my parents are going to miss me,” he said, his voice tinged with fear.

She didn’t miss the way he stumbled over the word “parents”—it was no secret among the Miracusquad that Chat Noir probably had the worst home life out of anyone on the team. She doubted he actually had both parents. And she could guess what might happen if he was “missed.”

”Go home, Chat,” she said, massaging his shoulder. “I’ll look after her. I promise.”

He turned to her with glistening eyes. “Thank you,” he said, catching her hand between his. “My Queen.”

And then he was out the window, and Chloé settled down to wait.

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