#otp: mon coeur | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

momostodoroki · 4 years

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»wanna find you there (wanna hold on tight)«

sooooo remember how i wrote a reveal fic about ten thousand years ago, and then a bunch of minifics to go with it??? well this is the direct sequel and also end of the series hahaha been a while hasn’t it???

anyway this work belongs to the oblivious dorks in love series and can be found also on ao3

without further ado, here it is:

Panic arises in Chat Noir’s chest as he witnesses his lady take care of the akuma.

This was not the way she was supposed to know. He wasn’t supposed to tell her out of desperation, but with his luck it really isn’t a surprise. His stomach churns in both anguish and relief: the secret was eating away at his feelings and now that the cat is literally out of the bag -or rather, inside the ring-, it’s as if a weight has lifted off of his shoulders. On the other hand, he dreads to see what Marinette’s reaction will be like when she finally has time to process everything. Which, speaking of, shouldn’t be very long now.

Will she be happy? Will she love him back? Or will she completely spurn him?

He stands behind her as she throws the lucky charm into the air, more Adrien than ever even though he’s dressed in his superhero suit. As the miraculous cure that sweeps over the school heals the graze on his face and brings the akumatized teacher back to normal, he can almost feel the last seconds of normality with his Lady running out between his fingers.

After she’s reassured the teacher, Ladybug turns back to him. With his heart on his hand, or more accurately on his fist, Chat Noir raises his arm for their customary fist bump, but his partner ignores him. She is all fiery eyes and tight lips as she takes his wrist and drags him away before he can even try to protest.

She jumps and jumps and jumps until they’re far enough away that the Eiffel tower is needle thin on the horizon, both of their transformations wearing off as they land on top of a trashcan in a deserted alley. When Marinette turns around to glare at him, Adrien feels the tight ball of panic in his chest drop down to churn in the pit of his stomach.

“Y-you knew!” she accuses, her face a lovely shade of pink that almost makes him forget the less-than-ideal circumstance he’s in. “You knew and you… I talked to you!” she exclaims, letting go of his wrist to cover her mouth with her hands, eyes wide with a mixture of terror and realization. “I talked to you about you!”

Adrien reaches out to touch her, but Marinette steps back. There’s fear in her eyes and even though his heart is leaping out of his chest and running towards her, he can’t do the same, he can’t bring himself to touch her when she’s so clearly backing away from him. His mind races with the millions of things he wants to say (I’m sorry I love you I didn’t want you to find out like this Please don’t reject me You’re wonderful I need you Marinette Marinette Marinette) but the words push each other in his throat and only manage to make a knot that feels almost impossible to swallow.

“M-Marinette-”

“I trusted you! And you… did you follow me?” she asks, her gaze trained on him in a way it has never been before. “Is that h-how you found out?”

“No! Marinette…” he groans. This is no place to be having this conversation. He’s too emotional and his face is all over Paris and there are people walking outside the alley; he doesn’t even think they’re still on the 21st arrondissement. Marinette is expecting answers that he’s been waiting three months to give, and his chances of still having a chance (ha!) with Marinette after all of this become slimmer with every second he wastes standing there looking at her. “Plagg, transform me.”

“There’s no cheese!” the kwami whines from inside his shirt. Marinette is looking curiously at him, her apprehension dwindling slightly at the sight of Plagg. Adrien sighs, rubbing his cheek with the heel of his hand.

“You’ve rested, it’ll be quick, and I will get you three wheels of camembert if you do this.” Plagg crosses his little arms as if considering it, but Adrien doesn’t give him a chance to. “Transform me!” he yells, and with a jolt of electricity, he’s Chat Noir once again. He hears Marinette squeak as she reaches to cover her eyes. “Don’t” He pleads, gingerly stopping her hands with his own. “No one has ever seen me for who I am.”

What he says must strike a chord within her, because her eyes stay on him even though she pulls her hands away almost immediately -Adrien tries not to think about the jolt of energy he felt even through the indestructible material of his suit. Running a hand through his hair, he takes a deep breath.

“I know you want answers, and I-I really want to talk to you, Marinette.” Adrien says, voice a lot calmer than he feels. There’s a revolution going on within his chest that he struggles to keep in line, like an outnumbered one-man army. “But this is no place to do it. My dad’s on a trip to Rome, l-let’s go to my house. We can talk in my room.”

His cheeks pink as he utters the offer, but he stands by it. His partner looks conflicted for a minute, but eventually her desire for answers wins over her reluctance to be alone with him.

“Fine.” She mutters, nodding. “But I’m going on my own.” Then she turns around and starts walking out of the alley. Adrien daringly takes her by the arm so as to stop her.

“Marinette, your kwami is exhausted. You wiped out the akuma almost by yourself. You can’t transform, and you took us out of our district. Just let me carry you.”

She looks ready and willing to obliterate him in that instant, but says nothing as he reaches out to hold her while touching her as little as possible -which is obviously an impossible thing to do if he doesn’t want to drop her, so he shrugs and just hoists her up.

Can always blame it on my social skills later he thinks. As expected, between the trip home and the time it takes him to orientate himself in that side of Paris, it takes Chat Noir almost fifteen minutes to get home and push the always-slightly open window on his lookout to leave Marinette inside his room, muttering a quick “I’ll be back” before detransforming half a block away from his house, playing the scared, lost kid as he runs up to the Gorilla.

When he’s finally in his room again, Plagg shoots out of his pocket towards the general direction of his hidden stash of camembert, knowing full well that Adrien will be too preoccupied to keep him from finishing it -as well as wanting no part in the conversation.

Her kwami soon follows him, ignoring his offering to get her something else and urging him to talk to Marinette.

Marinette, who is standing by his window looking like she wants to strangle him. There's an irredeemably teenaged part of Adrien that is giddy at the thought of having the girl he likes standing in his bedroom, but most of him is struggling to organize his thoughts. He only has one chance to save his relationship with Marinette, and this is it.

"I will only wait until Tikki is feeling better." she says. Adrien doesn't think she has seen her this angry since his first day of school. Her anger pinks her cheeks and brighten her eyes and he wishes, desperately, that she were not so attractively distracting as he's trying to explain himself to her.

He sits on the armrest of his couch, patting the space beside him so his lady can sit. Marinette looks for all the world like she would prefer to jump out of the window, but instead concedes to sit on the opposite end of the couch.

“I…”he starts, “I didn’t mean to find out. Do you remember the time you twisted your ankle on patrol?” Marinette’s eyes widen. Adrien thinks she can remember very well. “Well, I left you back at that alley, right? And then I left, but the next day I had a photoshoot, and I remember it well because père scolded me for oversleeping -but I would be late to patrol, so I went back to tell you. It was only a moment, but when I got there, you were transforming back.”

Marinette is going to kill him.

Her twisted ankle happened months ago. Adrien has had not one or two, but three months to tell her that he found out her identity, and instead, he let an akuma force his hand. She is positively livid.

She can understand needing time to reconcile the two identities, but there just is no excuse for the deceiving. The boy spent months both ignoring and visiting her, talking to her, letting her tell him her darkest fears and greatest hopes -most of them about him-, all the while giving her the cold shoulder at school. Marinette feels like her entire face is going to fall off in mortification.

All this time. How he must have laughed at my expense. She thinks. There is a traitorous part of her that defends him, that says that isn’t like her Adrien, that there must be an explanation. But how could he let her talk to Chat Noir about Adrien? How could he hear her wax poetics about him and not tell her she was talking to the very same boy? Oh, how she wishes the earth could swallow her whole.

“That was three months ago.” She says when he fails to continue his explanation. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you at least hint that you knew? And you… you’ve been at my house! All this time,” her voice rising as her anger takes hold of her body. “and I made you a beanbag! I trusted you! I-I..”

“I’m sorry!” he pleads, a trembling in his mouth that she doesn’t want to see. She hates that she still loves him, that she wants to hold and reassure him just as much as she wants to strangle him with her yo-yo. He does not get to do this. “I’m sorry Marinette. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but I’ll beg for your forgiveness for as long as I have to. I didn’t want to lie, you know me. It’s me, my Lady. I wanted so badly to tell you b-but…”

“What, Chat?”

“At first, it was hard to reconcile Ladybug with Marinette.” Adrien admits, looking at his shoes. The knot in her chest tightens, because that’s it. That’s why he didn’t say anything. She always knew Marinette wasn’t as good as Ladybug, and she had always been fine with that, but hearing her crush, her partner saying it makes it so much worse. “But then I-“

“You don’t have to say anything else.” Marinette says, all the fight gone out of her, bluebell eyes obscured by her fringe. She wants to cry so badly, but she will not do it in front of him. “I’ve heard enough. Tikki, transform me.”

This has to be a nightmare.

Even in his worst ones, Adrien couldn’t have imagined this moment going so badly. As his Lady’s kwami zips in from wherever it was hiding, Marinette is engulfed in a pink light, then Ladybug stands before him. He realizes this is the first time he has ever seen her transform into Ladybug. He wishes it was under happier circumstances.

She’s leaving, and Adrien can’t in good conscience stop her. He can’t ever ask her to do anything for him in good conscience, hasn’t for the last three months. But she’s transformed and she hasn’t heard anything about him falling in love with her all over again, hasn’t given him the chance to tell her how he admires her strength and confidence and the way her eyes will shine brighter when she puts her mind to something. He hasn’t even begun to organize his thoughts to explain how he’s always wanted to kiss her and how he’s been so close the past three months that he thought he could die. He’s not even mentioned the closet full of gifts he’s bought her because he wants her to have everything she could ever want and then some.

“Please, Mari- my Lady, no. I’m not-“

“I’ve heard as much as I needed, Adrien.” She cuts. There’s a coldness in her tone that he’s only ever heard her use with Chloe. “I’m going home.”

Then she throws her yo-yo and goes out the window, leaving him behind. She can’t know, and now he can’t tell her, but she takes the entirety of his heart with her.

“Girl, what’s going on?” Alya asks, a week later.

Marinette hates that she can’t tell her. She wants Alya to hold her, to comfort her and to tell Adrien to throw himself off the Arc de Triomphe. She knows her friend wouldn’t even bat an eyelash to do it – but she would risk everything. She doesn’t believe that Alya, lovely Alya who is the most caring, most supportive friend anyone could ever have, would ever give her away. But at the end of the day, she’s protecting her by not telling her. Marinette needs to keep doing that, even if it means she has to process her heartbreak on her own.

“I’ve just had a bad week.” She murmurs, pushing a pencil around. She’s on time for maybe the first time in a month, and it just so happens to be the day Adrien will be missing school because of a photoshoot. She supposes she might have some luck after all.

“A bad week?” Her best friend repeats, incredulous. “You’ve had Adrien tripping over himself to get you to talk to him ALL week. Last time I checked, that was the equivalent of winning the lottery for you! Instead, you’ve clearly been high key ignoring him! What on earth is up with you?”

Marinette has been preparing all week for this. She even wrote a list of bullet points on the things she would say should Alya ask anything: she’s over Adrien, he overstepped his boundaries and she’s still not ready to talk about it. Marinette knows Alya is the best reporter there is, but she also knows that she’s the best friend in the world, and she won’t pry until she is sure it’s okay.

Luckily, the arrival of Mlle. Bustier saves her, and she gets away with a ‘this-isn’t-over’ look from her best friend.

Adrien might actually go insane.

He’s done everything he can to talk to Marinette: approached her at school, stopped over by her house only to be told she’s not feeling well and given apology cookies from her mom, even visited the gym where she trains with Kim and Ivan. All in vain, for she will not see him. At school, she only replies if she absolutely has to, and everywhere else she is a wall. Adrien has spent much of his life alone, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been ignored.

And it hurts. Doubly so, because it is undeniably his fault. He knows how candid Marinette is, how straightforward his lady always presents herself – and he still went out and lied to her. But if she would just let him explain – if he could at least confess and be rejected, then okay. It would still hurt, but he’d be able to move on. Maybe. Someday.

So, in a last-resort attempt, he transforms for the first time in a week, dashing across the rooftops towards his lady’s balcony. He finds it deserted, deck chairs and beanbag lonely under the moonlight. He knocks on the trapdoor, knowing Marinette will know it’s him and hoping, begging to whatever power moves the strings of the world to please, please let her hear him out.

But his luck is, as always, nefarious. There is nothing out there rooting for him, and it lets him know through silence. He crouches outside the trapdoor for a lifetime, finding patterns in the worn wood as he lets his thoughts take over. There’s a voice in his head that tells him she will never forgive him, and he is terrified of that being true. Terrified of never having her smile at him again and of never being able to hold her hand in his.

Give it some time, says a voice in his head, suspiciously reminiscing of Plagg’s. She’ll come around. And for his sanity, he really hopes she does.

The night Chat Noir visits her balcony, Marinette sleeps in her chaise.

She does this because she knows she wouldn’t be strong enough to hold back from opening the trapdoor and spending yet another stupid night listening to him, hearing him give her empty apologies. And how could she do that to herself? How could she let him fool her again after he deceived her for so long?

Marinette is so angry. She feels like her anger is going to tear her apart and she hates that. She is not a resentful person, she doesn’t hold grudges for long, not even for Chloe. She wants to move past this and mend bridges with Adrien and be friends even if his very existence breaks her heart, but no matter how she tries, she can’t. Every time she takes a deep breath and resolves to put it behind her, she remembers the nights spent on her rooftop, talking about nothing but especially about everything and she cannot believe he betrayed her like that. She cries and rages and feels as though a volcano were perpetually erupting inside her chest, and no matter what she does, it never stops.

If she is honest, Marinette knows much of the anger is not at him. Sure, he deceived her -but she never gave him the slightest hint that she’d want to exchange identities. As time goes on, she is better able to realize that. She doesn’t even think she would be so mad, if only he hadn’t also learned of her crush and cruelly let her confide in him. Much of the anger is on herself, for thinking she could ever have the most handsome boy in Paris return her feelings, for hoping against hope that she could, just this once, be enough.

The akuma shows up in the worst of times.

It’s a really strong one, too, a young girl who got bullied -surprisingly not by Chloe- looking for retribution. She’s holding an oversized make up brush that Ladybug suspects is where the akuma hides, and whoever she paints over suddenly has their most embarrassing features or secrets out in the open. All over Paris, people lose their make up at best, and at worst, get some sort of holographic text on top of their heads divulging their deepest secrets. Ladybug worries, because that sort of akuma could very well unmask her and Chat Noir, and she really can’t afford that. With things as they are now, losing one of them may well mean losing both.

And the longer the girl is akumatized, the less it seems like they will be able to beat it. Ladybug knows she can’t afford to hold onto her grudges, not when the fate of Paris is at risk -but trusting Chat Noir is so hard. It’s not like when she found out anymore, she has no more shock to get her through the motions on autopilot.

On his end, Chat Noir tries to pun and act like nothing is wrong (they can’t afford to show Paris, and by extension, Hawk Moth, that something is), but they keep missing each other’s cues, keep tripping over each other in their attempts to corner the akuma. Every time they’ll attack her, she will swipe at them with their brush, and Ladybug and Chat Noir, out of sync and unable to confide in each other, struggle to keep up.

Eventually, they get an opening when she finds her bully, and she loses all interest in their miraculous in favor of exacting revenge. Chat Noir seizes this opportunity to swipe at her legs with his staff, but she holds onto the baton at the last second and uses the momentum to twirl around with it, Chat Noir still attached to the opposite end of it. She turns and turns until she resembles a spintop and then, in the blink of an eye, she lets go. Ladybug is horrified as she witnesses Chat Noir’s rapidly retreating figure, then hears the crack of concrete as he crashes against a building in the city center.

She can’t really recall what happens after. She remembers her heart constricting in anguish at the distant yowl, only audible to her because of her enhanced hearing. Then anger, white and blazing and blinding as she conjures up the lucky charm and she can’t even understand what she has to do with this stupid phone until- oh! Of course. A taunt over cyberbullying and she feels so bad because the mere idea of it is so wrong but Chat Noir is hurt and she can’t take it, not when they’re like that, not when she hasn’t forgiven him and maybe won’t get to and- a toss of her yoyo and the brush is broken and time to de-evilize!

The poor child barely gets her bearings before Ladybug is sprinting away, frantic in her need to get to her partner’s side. He’s unconscious at the foot of a building, a crowd of concerned citizens surrounding him. Ladybug fights back tears as she arrives, taking his head in her arms and tenderly brushing his bangs away from his gaze. Please, please let him be okay, she pleads silently.

She hears, far away even though it’s right on her earlobe, the beeping of her earrings. Chat Noir must have longer, because he didn’t use his Cataclysm, but even so his transformation won’t hold with him knocked out like that. Ladybug holds him in her arms, placing his head carefully in the crook of her own neck, and zips away with a tiny, forced smile towards the cheering crowd behind her.

After locating Adrien’s bodyguard, Ladybug lands on a tall roof, away from prying eyes.

“Plagg, if you can hear me, I think he needs medical attention.” She murmurs, a trembling in her voice. “Please, drop the transformation.”

There’s a flash of green light, and then the black kwami floats before her, a concerned look on his big green eyes as he approaches his unconscious charge.

“Ladybug, he hit his head pretty hard.” Plagg says, touching a tiny paw to Adrien’s cheek.

“Don’t worry, he will be okay.” She replies. In truth, she’s not sure if she is reassuring him or herself. Either way, she really hopes she is correct.

After dropping him off with his bodyguard, Ladybug finds a secluded place to detransform and goes back home. Once there, she waits until nighttime to transform back and make her way through Paris’ rooftops until she’s at the foot of Adrien’s always-slightly-ajar window. There’s a lamp turned on in the upper part of his bedroom that bathes the room in faint golden light, and through it she’s able to make his figure out laying on his bed, sleeping.

She walks in, stepping softly as to not wake him. Ladybug chances a look at his face and is worried to see a small frown on his brow, but his face is otherwise peaceful. Plagg emerges from under his blanket, green eyes slightly bleary as he rubs them with a tiny paw.

“I thought you didn’t want to see him.” He comments. She doesn’t, but she does, but- oh, it’s so hard making up her mind. She’s not done processing her feelings, and she can’t stop worrying about him.

“I… needed to make sure he was okay.” She admits. “We are still partners.”

“Can I tell you something, little bug?” Plagg asks, after a moment of silence. Ladybug knows he’s going to speak on behalf of Adrien, and really why wouldn’t he? Adrien is his holder, after all. She isn’t sure she wants him to -one part of her wants to move past this, but another one is still conflicted on her feelings. She’s silent as she deliberates, and before she can make up her mind, Plagg takes her silence as an affirmation and continues. “Adrien messed up big time hiding what he did from you, but that kid is the finest wheel of cheese ever made. Not a single bit of mold. You don’t have to listen to me, but I think my sugar cube would agree with me when I ask you to please give him a chance.”

Ladybug doesn’t mean to go back to being Marinette. Not in Adrien’s room, when he could wake up anytime, and not after what Plagg said. It’s Tikki who pushes the detransformation, and it’s her bright blue eyes looking at her full of meaning as she floats up to her face. Marinette holds in a groan, because Tikki never scolds her unless she’s wrong, and she hasn’t so far. Is she really overreacting?

“No, Marinette.” Tikki says softly, as though reading her thoughts. “But you’re not allowing youself to see the full picture either.”

Marinette wonders what she means by that. With a sigh, she comes to the conclusion that her worries have been quelled, and stands up to start her way back home. As she turns around, a white square calls her attention and, not without a little guilt for snooping, she checks it out. It’s an envelope with her name on it in Adrien’s cursive script.

“He was going to give it to you.” Plagg says, around a mouthful of cheese. “Jus’ take it.”

Pursing her lips, Marinette puts the letter in her pocket before transforming and making her way back home.

“Ma bien-aimée Marinette,

I won’t bother you with apologies; I know I don’t deserve forgiveness for lying to you, and I won’t ask for it no matter how desperately I want it. The last time we talked, you left before I could explain, so I’ll try to do it as swiftly as possible. Please bear with me for a few paragraphs.

I’ve always thought you were amazing. Ever since the first day I met you. I don’t know if you know this, but you were my first friend. But no matter how I tried to talk to you, you would always clam up around me. I knew I was the issue, because you didn’t react that way to anybody -not even Chloe.

When I found out you were Ladybug, I was shocked, but also quite glad. You already were a sort of superhero for our class, so it made sense that you would be the face behind the actual superhero. Only such a valiant, confident, uplifting, charismatic, inspiring, trustworthy girl could be Ladybug. As Chat Noir, I’d always wanted to get close to Ladybug, and here I had the perfect opportunity to do it. Around Chat Noir, you weren’t nervous or tongue tied, and I could finally see the girl under the costume that I so often dreamt about. I regret that in the process, I hurt you.

Before your fall, I had always been in love with Ladybug, but only through it was I able to know and love Marinette.

Yours,

Adrien.”

Chat Noir gets to the Eiffel Tower three hours early.

It’s been a week, and his doctor just cleared him after the concussion he got in the akuma attack. he surmises he might have recovered earlier, had he not woken up the day after and found out Ladybug had taken his letter.

“She what?” he’d asked Plagg, nauseous and drowsy and about to willingly choke on his own vomit from anxiety. “And you just gave it to her?”

“Well, it was for her wasn’t it?” Plagg had replied, not paying him any mind over his camembert slice. “Kid, she needed to hear you out, and she wasn’t willing to let you speak.”

“Oh Plagg,” Adrien had moaned, covering his face with his hand and falling back into bed to sleep out his concussion. “I just hope it works out.”

So now he stands there, impatient and anxious and confused because Marinette asked him to meet her here. And she hasn’t wanted to see him in nearly three weeks, so his anxiety is at its breaking point. If he adds the fact that she must have read his letter a dozen times by now (or even worse, not read it at all), he might just purposefully slip off the railing he’s perched on.

He’s entertaining a thread of self-destructive thoughts as he imagines what she might say (I hate you How could you do this to me I don’t want to work with you anymore This is the end of my being Ladybug Never speak to me again I’ll never return your feelings) when she appears. Her Ladybug costume has never seemed so much like an armor.

There’s an emotion in her eyes he can’t quite figure out, but it looks like a serene kind of sadness.

“Hello Chat Noir.” She says, sitting down at the of the railing. Tentatively, Chat Noir sits down next to her, close enough to touch should she extend her hand, but not so close as to invade her personal space.

“Bonsoir, ma Lady.” He replies, sheepish.

“I read your letter.” She says, and despite having known from the beginning that it was a very likely scenario, his heart still constricts inside his chest. He has a feeling about this moment -it will either make them or break them. He hopes, ardently, that it’s the former. “I… god, Chat Noir. I’m- I can’t-“

For a second, he almost feels like she’s taken off her mask. The way her tongue-ties is so incredibly Marinette, and he loves her so much, but she’s going to reject him. He knows it.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, my lady.” Chat Noir interrupts, a small, self-pitying smile gracing his face despite his best efforts. “I’ve always known someone else was in your heart.”

She looks at him with wide eyes.

“What?” she asks, stuttering forgotten as her face seems to constrict in… anger? “How can you- and after all this time! You’ve been stringing me along and falling in love with Ladybug and calling her all those formidable things all the while knowing it was me under that mask! Of course I was never going to live up to her! And you knew how I felt about you and still-“

He’s had so much time lately to get used to Marinette being angry at him, and he has had his fair share of anger from his Lady. Yet as she goes on her angry rant, Chat Noir finds that he’s shocked. Not at her demeanor, but at her words. “Falling in love with Ladybug”? She’s Ladybug! And he’s in love with her! And… how she felt? His head fixates on that thought so hard that it makes him feel dizzy.

“M-my lady,” he interjects, daring as he holds the fist she’s been waving at him for the past few minutes. “H-how you felt about me…?” he asks, hoping against hope.

“Oh, please.” Ladybug says, scornful. “Like you didn’t know I’ve been in love with Adrien for forever.” She admits, red to the tips of her ears, but Chat Noir doesn’t know if it’s anger or embarrassment that is coloring them. And frankly, after her last statement, he doesn’t find it in himself to care.

She loves him, and he loves her, and they may be in shambles, but it’s not all lost. A dazzling grin takes over his face.

“I love you too, my lady.”

“You wrote that.” She says, looking away with that sadness seeping back into her bluebell eyes. “But you’ve got it wrong. Valiant? Inspiring? Charismatic? That’s Ladybug. Not me. You’re in love with someone who doesn’t exist.” She looks away but he still notices the way her eyes go glassy and he can’t believe she really thinks that’s the truth.

“Marinette.” He calls. She gasps, softly, and looks up. The tiniest of tears have escaped from the corners of her eyes, and he reaches out to wipe them away with the tenderest of gestures. “Please, detransform.” And he does so as well, silently willing Plagg and finding the contrarious kwami complying with his request easily for once. Ladybug stays silent, looking for all the world like she’s going to bolt right then and there, but there’s a flash of pink light and then Tikki floats between them. The red kwami looks at her charge sternly, hugging her face tightly before dragging Plagg away to the upper side of the tower.

“Marinette” he starts, choosing his words carefully. She’s not looking at him, so he crosses the distance between them to hold her face in his hands. And because he knows he might not get to do this another time, he takes the time to caress her cheeks with his thumbs, to drink in her tiny nose and the silvery flecks in her bluebell eyes. He may only be fifteen, but he knows he will never love someone this much, not after her. “The first time we met, you left when we defeated Coeur de Pierre, and I told myself “whoever is under that mask, I love that girl.”” Marinette looks up at him. “You may not think so, but every single quality of Ladybug’s is yours, Marinette. She is lovely and amazing because you are. I’ve had three months to confirm that. Three months to fall in love all over again.”

“B-but if you loved me… why didn’t you say anything?” she asks. She sounds small, something that doesn’t fit Marinette at all. She’s too grand for this world, yet her shoulders hunch as if trying to make herself smaller. “y-you knew how I-”

“I didn’t.” he quickly assures, shaking his head. “If I had, I wouldn’t have hesitated.” And, because he might not get another chance, because he loves her and she loves him and they’re as close as the top of the world as Paris gets, Adrien pulls her face in and kisses her.

In the kiss, Adrien pours all his love for her. He’s clumsy and inexperienced and he doesn’t know if he isn’t just slobbering all over her, but she doesn’t pull away. She lets out a little whimper, motionless for what feels like eons until her hands come up to fist at his shirt and she starts returning the kiss in earnest. She’s not any better a kisser than he is, but to him, nothing could be better.

Eventually, Adrien lets go of her face, and Marinette stumbles backward a few paces. Because of their precarious setting, Adrien holds her hand to steady her, watches as she takes a breath so deep that he wonders whether she had been breathing at all the past few minutes. Her face is still greatly flushed, and one of her pigtails has come undone. With his free hand, he undoes the other one, watches as her hair tumbles freely over her neck. She looks at their joint hands, pensive.

“Let’s start over, my lady.” He proposes, squeezing her hand. He hears Plagg’s snicker somewhere out of his sight, and he knows the kwami will tease him incessantly later.

“B-but Adrien… What about our identities? And Hawk Moth? There’s so much at risk.” Marinette makes fair points, but Adrien is such an unlucky person, he always takes his victories wherever he can get them. This, he knows, is his greatest victory, and he isn’t prepared to give it up.

He pulls her in, hugging her to him. How could he have gone so long without her in his arms? She fits there perfectly. Marinette doesn’t resist, and that’s how he knows he’s won this battle.

“As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine. After all, who could beat the luckiest girl and the handsomest cat in the world?” Marinette snorts, then laughs a happy laugh, ringing in his ears like tiny bells. She beams at him, and Adrien knows that he’s the actual luckiest guy in the world.

#haysu writes stuff #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #adrien agreste #otp: it's a mixed up criss crossed love #otp: mon coeur t'appartient #reveal fic #canon what is canon #i certainly don't know nor do i care #anyway it's been so long hope y'all will forgive me

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