It started off simple.

You were in the Dupain-Cheng bakery helping Marinette with the prep. She had flour on her nose, an apron that was slightly crooked, and a face locked in Serious Dough Kneading Mode™.

You, naturally, were not focused on the dough.

You were focused on her.

So when she bent over slightly to reach the rolling pin and muttered something about needing more counter space, you walked up behind her, slid your arms around her waist, and pressed your cheek gently against hers.

THUNK.

The rolling pin hit the floor like it’d seen something too powerful and gave up.

“AH—wh—wh—HUH!?” Marinette squeaked, freezing mid-knead. ”W-What are you—You—You can’t just—”

“You—you—YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT WHILE TOUCHING ME WITH YOUR FACE!!”

She made a noise that was somewhere between a kettle boiling and a small bird being emotionally overwhelmed. Her hands were still on the dough, but they were trembling like the poor thing owed her money.

“You’re distracting me,” she murmured, voice climbing an octave.