Chapter Text
Marinette Dupain-Cheng was reliable.
She was sometimes late to class, and half the time she didn’t know what day of the week it was, but when someone needed her—really needed her—Marinette was there.
Alya Césaire knew Marinette was reliable the day her cat, Muffin, died. Marinette didn’t ask what Alya needed. She just showed up. She helped her find a place to bury Muffin—a quiet public garden not far from Alya’s apartment—and arranged flowers like it mattered, like it was something worth honouring.
Nino Lahiffe knew Marinette was reliable the day his dad left. When Marinette overheard that his mum was struggling to put food on the table, she started bringing extra pastries to school. Enough for breakfast. Enough to take home. She never said why.
Adrien Agreste knew Marinette was reliable the day he turned eight. His parents were too busy to throw him a birthday party, too busy to notice how much he wanted one. So Marinette baked him a cake, with help from her own parents, and invited their friends. She couldn’t believe he’d never had a birthday party before.
It became a tradition after that.
Every year, on Adrien’s birthday, Marinette baked the cake.
She never questioned why it was always her. She just assumed someone had to do it.
However, Adrien did question it.
They were good friends at school, and Marinette was kind to everybody, but he’d never understood why she went out of her way for people the way she did. She helped classmates with homework assignments, played accidental matchmaker for people who liked each other, and shared her lunch whenever someone forgot theirs.
Adrien watched her do it all with a smile that never seemed forced, never resentful.
Sometimes, he wondered if she ever got tired.
Or if she simply didn’t know how to stop.
Marinette let out a yawn as she stretched her arms, her pink cardigan slipping off her shoulders.
Adrien noticed from across the table.
She quickly turned back to her essay, the afternoon sun peeking through the school library windows just enough to make her blue eyes look brighter than usual.
Nino soon pulled Adrien back to reality, “You excited for the weekend?”
“Hm?” Adrien blinked, “Excited for what?”
With a chuckle, Nino grabbed his shoulder, “Uh—I don’t know—your birthday?”
Alya let out a snort as she flipped through some pages in a textbook, “It’s only Monday, and he’s already mentally checked out.”
Adrien shook his head slightly to wake himself up, “Sorry, I think I was daydreaming.”
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of—
“Luka,” Marinette smiled instantly, standing up to hug the tall boy and place a quick kiss to his lips, “How are you?”
Adrien watched again as a grin spread across Luka’s pierced lips.
“I’m great, my love. You ready to go?”
“Mhm.” Marinette nodded.
Luka helped her pack away her things, slinging her bag over his shoulder as they left.
“See you tomorrow,” She called, waving back at Alya, Nino, and Adrien.
“Did you get a chance to finish your essay?” Luka asked as they walked toward her apartment.
“Not quite, but I’m close,” She said, “Alya needed help with something—”
“And let me guess,” Luka interrupted gently, already smiling, “You put her first.”
Marinette huffed, “What was I supposed to do? Say no?”
Luka nodded, dry but not unkind, “Yes, Marinette. It’s called setting boundaries. You should try it sometime. You let people walk all over you because you’re a—”
“Don’t call me that again.”
“—people-pleaser,” He finished, softer.
Marinette pouted, turning her gaze away as they reached her street.
“You don’t have to sulk,” Luka said, reaching out to smooth a hand over her hair, “You know I love how much you care. It just gets to a point.”
She nodded, already unlocking her door, not trusting herself to respond.
She hated hearing it because she knew he was right. Her whole life felt like a quiet mission to be good—to be useful. Maybe it was her mama’s voice reminding her to behave, or her papa’s voice urging her to be kind. Either way, she tried. She learned Chinese to please her mama. She learned to bake to please her papa.
She ignored Chloé when paper hit the back of her head in class, when insults followed her down hallways, because being the bigger person was what she was supposed to do—even when it hurt more than fighting back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Luka said, “Make sure you finish that essay.”
Marinette sighed as he left, but before going upstairs she heard metal clang in the bakery. She popped her head in straight away.
“Need any help, papa?” She asked.
“No thank you, we’re all good sweetheart,” He replied, picking up the—thankfully—empty tray that he had dropped.
She didn’t listen, she tugged her cardigan off and put on an apron before washing her hands.
She chatted with the regulars who asked about school as she wiped counters, organized trays, swept the floor, and put away leftover ingredients—barely noticing the time passing. It wasn’t until she burnt her hand whilst checking an oven that she slowed down.
As she ran her burn under cold water, Sabine approached with a knowing smile, “Didn’t your father tell you that we didn’t need you in the bakery today?”
Marinette shrugged, “Yeah, I know, but I just thought I’d help out for a minute.”
“You’ve been helping for an hour.”
Marinette’s eyes widened as she looked at the clock. It had been an hour, she didn't even notice.
“Oh,” Marinette mumbled as she took her apron off.
“Speaking of help,” Sabine smiled, “Do you need any help making Adrien’s birthday cake this week?”
Marinette paused, almost completely forgetting about the cake, “Oh—I need to ask him what flavours he wants—I’ll let you know, thanks.”
She grabbed a cake recipe book before heading up to her room.
At her desk, she flipped through different cake ideas and decided to text Adrien.
Marinette: hey, just checking what cake flavour ur wanting this year :)
Adrien shot up when he heard his phone ding, as he was laid on his sofa reading a book.
Once he checked his phone, a smile grew.
Adrien: Hm… Maybe something different this year. Have you got any ideas?
Marinette: yup, there's this cake recipe called black forest. rich chocolate with cherry filling and whipped cream, looks quite dramatic, but yummy!!
Adrien: Then that sounds perfect, thank you.
Marinette: no worries :)
Marinette folded the recipe page with a sigh, hoping he actually would like it. Last year, she made a marble cake and everybody loved it. Even Adrien’s mother—the Emilie Agreste—tried a slice and she complimented her baking skills.
Meanwhile, Adrien got back to his book. It was a horror, he strangely found comfort in the genre. Maybe it was because he knew he was always safe—it was hard to feel terrified in a mansion with security. He wished he could get a real thrill, not just from a fictional story. His parents were too strict, though. He never knew the fun of sneaking out to meet his friends, running around the city freely late at night. Sure, he could live vicariously through Nino’s many stories of getting drunk and running from police, but it wasn’t the same.
“Adrien,” A voice spoke as somebody knocked on his bedroom door.
“Yeah?” He sat up again.
His mother entered his room and his eyes lit up, “Mother, I thought you were in London for another week?”
Emilie gave a loving smile, “I came back early to see you, I’ve missed you lots.”
She sat down and gave him a warm hug, but even in that embrace, there was a distance he couldn’t quite reach.
“Will you be here for my birthday? We’re having a party.”
She stared into his eyes which were full of deep longing, and she gave a calm nod.
“I wouldn't miss it for the world.”