Pack

The akuma attack wasn’t nearly enough to work her off her hormonal high, even with Chat gone AWOL. It’d been a depressed university student that failed a midterm and, in her self-pity, blamed the professor. The cursed item--the test paper--was easy enough to retrieve and destroy, and the student was sheepish and the professor promised to give her one-on-one tutoring to boost her grade. All was well.

Except for Marinette, of course.

She slipped back home before her parents noticed her absence, let Tikki recharge while she ate dinner and gave her parents the full rundown of events, and excused herself back up to her room within an hour of the attack.

She needed another outlet.

Five minutes later, Ladybug stood, tall and proud, at the top of the Arc du Triomphe, hands on her hips and foot tapping impatiently. “It figures,” she grumbled to no one in particular, “the one day I need to blow off some steam that damn cat stands me up.”

She may have seemed completely in control while she tended to Adrien, but the experience of being so close to an Omega in heat for such a long time left her wound up to the point of explosion. Had it only been arousal, she could deal just fine. Just her luck, though, the encounter sent something akin to adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she needed a good workout to get it out of her system.

With a snarl, she whipped her yo-yo away from her hip and pressed the button that would turn it into a communicator. Chat’s smirking visage blinked in time to the ringing, and when he didn’t pick up she simply jabbed the button again, knowing his kwami would be able to know she was trying to reach him.

It took seven tries for Chat to pick up, and even then, the screen stayed blank. “Hello, My Lady,” he said, sounding very, very ill. “I’m sorry I’m not there. I seem to have caught a stomach bug.”

Her anger melted away immediately, replaced by concern for her partner and friend. “I’m so sorry. How bad is it?”

She could almost hear his wince. “Pretty bad. I’m probably out of commission for the next week or so. Sorry, ladylove, but you’ll have to deal with the akuma on your own until then.”

Ladybug sighed loud enough to make sure Chat could hear it. “Well, hurry up and get better soon, kitty. I have a lot of stuff to tell you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Shut up.” She snapped the communicator shut and plopped down so her feet were dangling over the stone edge of the arch. “What have I gotten myself into?” she asked the night sky.

She had a sinking feeling that, were the sky able to answer her, it would say, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

When Marinette walked into her classroom the next morning, she was met with the shocked faces of her friends. “What?” she asked defensively, crossing her arms over her pink and white polka-dotted chest. She’d been feeling extra girly that morning, so she’d thrown on a sleeveless dress reminiscent of the fifties with tights and short heels. She thought she looked very nice, but not different enough to warrant the attention she was suddenly getting.

Alya pounced on her, Nino shortly behind, and Marinette braced herself for the worst. She knew that look, after all; she could see the questions bubbling in her best friend’s throat. “What’re you doing here?” was the first thing she asked.

Marinette tilted her head in confusion. “Am I not supposed to be?”

Kim pushed Alya and Nino aside gently. Not that it mattered; they would have made themselves scarce with just a pointed look from the large Alpha. “We don’t mean anything by it, Mari. We… well, we just figured you’d be with Adrien, since you went with him to the infirmary.”

She felt her ire start to rise. “I have better control over myself, thank you very much. I’m not gonna jump a scared boy going through his first heat because of a few hormones.”

Kim looked floored. “You resisted the heat?”

Marinette shrugged.

“Why were you gone for so long, then?” Alya asked, shoving past the stunned Alpha in front of her.

“He was panicking. He needed an Alpha to calm him down. I just sat with him and talked to him until Mme. Sancoeur came to get him.” She purposely left out the part about their deal. After all, she thought, Adrien could very well decide he doesn’t actually want me. “Nothing major. I was just doing what any friend would.”

“But you’re an Alpha,” Alya insisted. “You’re supposed to succumb to a heat as soon as you smell it! How did you stay lucid?”

Marinette let steel enter her eyes. She was tired of the conversation. “Do you know what happens when a male Omega presents?”

Alya’s face tightened, like she was offended. “They enter their first heat and their body begins the process of growing their reproductive tract,” she said. That was true, of course, but completely text-book. The presentation process for each gender and each secondary gender was pounded into Betas’ heads when it became clear they would never present themselves, the same way Alphas were taught how to court and take care of Omegas and Omegas were taught how to properly submit and raise the children they would inevitably bear. It was supposed to make them better caretakers of Alphas and Omegas while they were in rut or heat.

“That’s the clean version,” Marinette informed her. “Here’s the dirty truth your teachers either don’t know or don’t want to tell you: The older the Omega, the harder it is. Their organs are all in place, see, and they have to be shifted around to make room for the reproductive ones. Then the skin between their penis and their anus tears open so the vagina can grow. The hole’s bigger than it needs to be, though--big enough to fit a fist in. So after everything’s grown, the hole still needs to heal. There’s more blood than a Beta or Omega female has during one of their periods. They usually have to buy whole new sets of pants and underwear because their old stuff gets stained. So you have all of that, plus the agony of going into heat.” If she had bothered to look around, she’d see the ashen faces of her classmates, but she had eyes for Alya only. “Can you even imagine how scared he was? How much pain he was feeling--is still feeling? He’s almost eighteen, Alya. His body was done maturing. Then, all of a sudden, new organs start growing where they shouldn’t, pushing his insides around. His skin gets torn apart and there’s so much blood his pants basically turn red. You want to know why I didn’t knot him? I felt empathy for him. My first priority was his health, not my boner. He’s a person before he’s an Omega, just like I’m a person before I’m an Alpha and you’re a person before you’re a Beta. I wasn’t going to do that to him while he was already scared and in pain, and I’m pissed that you could even think otherwise.”

The normally bustling classroom was silent as everyone stared on in horror. It was shocking for Marinette to make any kind of speech other than the ones that came with her ongoing position as class president, and rarer still for her to swear as a civilian. She knew it was probably leftover hormones from being so close to Adrien, this sudden anger, but it was almost freeing. Alya looked like she was going to faint, and Marinette knew she would feel bad later, but now…

She felt fucking amazing.

“Ahem.”

Marinette jumped and spun around, and she felt the blood drain from her face when she saw Mme. Sancoeur. “H-how much of that did you hear?” she asked meekly, fisting her hands in the fabric of her dress.

“Quite enough,” the older woman sniffed. Marinette didn’t know her well enough to tell if she was pleased or not. “M. Agreste would like to speak with you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

She felt her heart leap into her throat. “M. Agreste wants to see me?”

“Yes. I’ve spoken to your teachers, and they say they are willing to let you have another day off of school to allow you to work out your… frustrations… so you are now available for the rest of the day. There’s a car waiting out front. If you’ll follow me?”

“Ah, of course.” Marinette repositioned her backpack to ease the sting and followed Mme. Sancoeur away, doing her best to ignore the carnage she’d just wrought upon her unsuspecting classmates.

The car was the same from the previous day, so Marinette had no trouble identifying it. Mme. Sancoeur opened the back door and ushered Marinette in before taking her seat next to her. “That was an impressive speech,” the older woman said once Gorilla had the car in motion. “I had no idea you knew so much about Omegas.”

Marinette may have been young, but she wasn’t naive. After four years of dealing with reporters, she knew how to spot an unasked question from an adult. “My uncle is an Omega,” she said diplomatically. “When I presented, he told me about what it was like for him. He was trying to make me feel better about what was happening to me.”

“Well, I guess Adrien is lucky to have you as a friend, then.”

“How is he, by the way?” Marinette asked, hoping she didn’t sound quite as concerned as she was.

“He’s eating between waves, so that’s not as big of a concern as it usually is. M. Agreste’s wife was an Omega, so the mansion is still well-stocked in the chance she should return.”

Marinette winced internally at the idea of Adrien using his mother’s toys to help him through his heat.

“If you don’t mind me saying this, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, I hadn’t the faintest idea you were an Alpha. You’re possibly the last person I would ever peg to be anything other than an Omega. Why is it that you hide your secondary gender when you could have almost anyone you want.”

Marinette flushed. “I wouldn’t say I’m hiding it, exactly, but I don’t like to flaunt it. I try to avoid muscle-building exercise and I design my own clothes so I’m no identified as ‘The Female Alpha.’ I would rather my secondary gender be something a person knows about me after they get to know the real me.”

“That’s certainly a progressive way of thinking. How does someone so young come across such thoughts?”

“My parents, mostly. They raised me to think of people as people instead of as whatever their secondary gender is.”

“Yes, you said something like that in your speech, didn’t you? Is one of them an Alpha?”

“My father. My mother is a Beta, with a family history of Omegas. As you can see, I got the whole spectrum growing up. I like to think that’s helped me empathise with others.”

As she spoke, Marinette felt relief wash over her. Thank God for Alpha confidence, she thought to herself when Mme. Sancoeur looked away for a moment. She’d eat me alive otherwise.

The car slowed, and when Marinette looked up to see why, she saw the gate in front of the Agreste mansion starting to open. Taking in a deep breath, she steeled herself. Whatever M. Agreste wants to speak to me about, I bet it’s not my designs.

Gorilla parked the car in a garage on the side of the mansion Marinette had never seen. Once they were stopped, Mme. Sancoeur ushered her out of the car. “Follow me,” she said, leaving no room for argument as she led Marinette through a side door and into the kitchen. She felt a small thrill; how many of her classmates have been brought through this side door, a door infinitely more intimate than the grand front entrance?

She couldn’t smell Adrien immediately, but if the mansion was as prepared as Mme. Sancoeur made it out to be, there was most likely a heat-safe room somewhere on the premises where Adrien would spend his heats. She was conflicted about this lack of him; his smell would have been a comfort, but it would also hinder her ability to have a conversation with his father. She was pretty sure concealing an erection under her thin skirt would make any kind of legitimate dialogue much, much more difficult than it needed to be.

So Marinette followed Mme. Sancoeur up the large center stairs and into what she knew to be Gabriel’s office. She’d only been in there as Ladybug, so she made a show to be slightly confused and then visibly awed at the photographs of Adrien on the wall. M. Agreste stood in front of one of his large windows, framed by the morning sun in what had to be a purposeful way. What a dramatic man.

He spun around to face her when Mme. Sancoeur cleared her throat. “M. Agreste, I have brought Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, as you asked.”

“Thank you, Nathalie. You’re dismissed.” Mme. Sancoeur gave them both a curt nod and left the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor. The sound the door made as it closed rang with a tone of finality. “Please, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, have a seat.”

Marinette carefully lowered herself into the strategically placed chair that sat opposite to his, with only his intimidating desk between them. “It’s nice to see you again, M. Agreste. How is Adrien doing?” While she’d asked Mme. Sancoeur, she did want a second opinion, and she honestly couldn’t think of any other way to initiate this conversation.

“As well as anyone in his situation can be, I suppose,” was his reply as he sat in his own chair. “The heat room is stocked and he’s eating and drinking. He’s lucid at times, so he could be doing much worse. Thank you for asking.”

“Of course. He’s my friend.”

“His friend, of course. Tell me, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, how many of your colleagues have expressed concern for Adrien’s well-being?”

Keeping her voice carefully neutral, Marinette said, “Well, sir, I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to anyone from school since the incident. From past experience, however, I can safely assure you the rest of our classmates are eagerly awaiting his return.”

“While your sentiments are pleasant, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, they do not equate to others’ concern. Wishing for the status quo to be reestablished is not the same as hoping a person is well. I do thank you for your concern, though. It is nice to know my son has some semblance of an ally at that school of yours now that he’s presented.”

“What do you mean?”

M. Agreste pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped something on the screen. Immediately, her own voice filled the air. “You want to know why I didn’t knot him? I felt empathy for him. My first priority was his health, not my boner. He’s a person before he’s an Omega--”

She felt her cheeks heat and she felt like she was going to melt into a literal puddle. “I didn’t realize Mme. Sancoeur recorded that,” she managed.

“She’s very sneaky like that.” His casually slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I have to say, your little speech was an enlightening one. I had no idea any young Alpha felt this way about Omegas. Your self control is also very astonishing. Nathalie tells me you sat next to my son for nearly half an hour before you helped him to the car, and all you did was touch him. I’ve never seen an Alpha with such restraint--myself included.”

Marinette almost jumped a little. Had Gabriel Agreste just… praised her? “If I may say so, sir, I don’t think I deserve praise for being a decent person. While it’s nice, I believe you should save your praise for when a person does something extraordinary.”

He blinked, slow, a puzzled look on his face. Finally, he returned to a neutral tone, saying, “You really are something else, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. However, that’s not the only reason I wanted to see you today.”

“May I ask why, then?”

“Of course. When I brought Adrien his supper last night, he was lucid, and he informed me of the… deal… you made with him.”

Her face was certainly on fire by this point. How mortifying. “Ah, I wondered if he would forget about that after the haze passed,” she said, voice only shaking a little. She had to keep up her appearances. Any time two Alphas clashed, appearances were the most important thing. “He remembered, then?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, voice unreadable. “I have to say, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, I approve.  I believe a courtship between you and my son is the best way to keep him safe.”

Marinette couldn’t believe her ears. “Really? Are you sure?”

“He’s young, objectively stunning, and a rarity in modern society. Every homosexual male Alpha in Europe will be clamoring for him. I know for a fact he is heterosexual, and with the bond of friendship you already share, the courtship would run smoothly. Even before you bond, your scent will be on him, and that alone will help discourage any ill intentions towards him. And, after you proved your self-restraint yesterday, I believe you are the only Alpha I can entrust the safety of my son to outside of the staff I employ.”

Marinette’s mind was reeling. Was she really talking courtship with Gabriel Agreste? “Uh, I’m flattered you think so highly of me, sir. And thank you for taking this conversation seriously. But I don’t think we should decide anything until Adrien is in the right state of mind to take part in this conversation. No matter what we decide, Adrien needs to have a voice. It’s his autonomy we’re trying to protect, is it not?”

She thought she saw his lips turn up at the corners in what might have been a smile. “Of course. Would you like to see Adrien?”

“Can I?” she asked, startled. “I thought he was in a heat room.”

“The door has a window just large enough to pass a plate of food through.” M. Agreste tapped a button on a mounted tablet and said, “Nathalie, is Adrien lucid?”

“Not quite yet, but it seems like his latest wave is waning. He should be lucid within the next half hour.”Agreste turned his gaze back to Marinette. “Are you willing to wait here until he’s lucid and go see him?”

“If you’re willing to put up with me for that long,” she replied. She really did want to see Adrien; she blamed it on her instincts. As soon as she touched his feverish, heat-riddled skin, she felt the beginnings of a bond. Nothing would come of it unless she pursued courtship, of course, but the seeds were there, and they made her want to be near him all the time.

“Of course. Now, if I recall, you’re an aspiring fashion designer.” When she nodded, he continued, “Are you working on anything in particular at the moment?”

If Marinette stayed flushed any longer, she was sure her face would be red for the rest of her life. “Well, uh, kind of? It’s more of a personal project than something I have big plans for.” She hoped the lie would discourage him from asking after it.

Of course, M. Agreste did anyway. “Tell me about it.”

She sighed internally and reached into her backpack, leaning against the leg of her chair, for her sketchbook and flipped to the appropriate page. “As I’m sure you can see, I enjoy traditionally feminine clothing. As such, I’ve always had an issue finding underwear that fit with my Alpha genitalia while still being suitable for the clothes I like to wear. I realized recently that I’m probably not the only Alpha female who’s experiencing this, and I decided to try to design feminine underwear that can conceal and support Alpha genitalia.” She handed the sketchbook to him across his desk and stared at her feet while he pondered over the page.

After  moment, he said, “While the designs are rudimentary, the idea is inspired. There are so few female Alphas that no one in the industry has brought this idea to light yet. I know nothing about undergarment designs, but I would be willing to contact an associate of mine that does. Would you like that?”

Jesus Christ, what even was her life anymore? She mentally ran over the list: she was a superhero, a female Alpha, had been given permission to court the male Omega she’d had a crush on for years (who just so happened to be the son of her idol), and was now about to get advice on her designing through a referral. If she got this kind of luck in return for being clumsy and not very intellectual, she’d gladly take it. “That--that would be amazing, sir.”

“I’ll call them within the week. That way we can discuss that when you come over to discuss the courtship.”

An electric buzz filled the air, startling Marinette, and Mme. Sancoeur’s voice rang out from over the tablet. “Adrien is lucid now, sir, and he’s expressed interest in speaking to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

“We’ll be there shortly, Nathalie, thank you.” M. Agreste stood up and Marinette followed suit. “Are you ready, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?”

“Yes, of course.”  She only hoped she sounded confident, and she followed M. Agreste at what she hoped was a modest pace when he left the room.