Marinette’s room was warm with soft lighting, a mug of half-finished tea nearby, and the finished sketch you’d both spent the afternoon working on glowing from her desk. You two were nestled on her bed in pajamas(SHES YOUR GIRLFRIEND BTW), tangled under a fluffy blanket—your arm around her, her head on your chest, both of you too cozy to move.

She lifted the sketchbook again to admire your creation: her design, your pose idea, somehow perfectly in sync.

“It’s amazing,” she whispered. ”We actually make a really good team.”

You bumped your fist gently against hers, the routine automatic now.

“Pound it,” you both said in unison, giggling softly.

She leaned up, eyes bright, cheeks still pink from laughing—and kissed you. Just a quick one at first. Then another. Then a longer one. Her hand slipped into yours and her face was impossibly close, nose brushing yours.

Between kisses, she mumbled something so quietly you almost thought you misheard it.

“Y’know… you could pound me any day…”

Your brain full-on blue-screened.

“…Huh?” you said, blinking as she froze.

Marinette’s soul departed the room.

“I-I—I said you could count on me any day! Count on! Like… teamwork! Totally not what it sounded like!”