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i.
The afternoon’s warmth wrapped Marinette and Chat Noir in hazy heat, the air suffused with the tell-tale smell of delicious, buttery bread. Chat snatched another croissant greedily, sighing contentedly as he bit in and swallowed.
Marinette giggled. “You must be starving.”
Chat laughed, tearing another bite off with his teeth. “Was it that obvious?”
She rolled her eyes, a smile on her face. Marinette stretched her hand, trying to reach the plate with the croissants on it. Too far, she thought mournfully.
“I can’t reach,” she whined. “Hand me one, won’t you?”
Chat, who sat near the croissants, took one from the plate, as she had asked. He swallowed the remnants of his own pastry, then stood up, as if to walk over and give her the croissant he had in hand.
But then a mischievous smile spread on his lips. “I don’t think I will.”
And before she could even say a few indignant words, he stuffed the croissant— her croissant in his mouth and leapt to the skylight, flashing her a cheeky grin as he scrambled out onto the balcony.
“You—” she spluttered, breaking her shocked stupor.
She tore after him, clambering out of her room as quick as she could. Once she emerged from the skylight, she grabbed a spray bottle she kept nearby for gardening. Finding him sprawled on one of the chairs with a smirk, she glared at him, making sure she kept the spray’s nozzle pointed straight at him.
“How dare you!”
Chat ate the last chunk of croissant, swallowing with a pointed grin. “What’s the matter, princess? Cat got your croissants?”
Marinette stared at him.
His smile turned uneasy as the charged silence dragged on. “Y’know, ‘cause I’m a cat, and I took your croissants?”
Before he could say another word, Marinette pressed the spray.
Chat yelped, falling off the chair. “Marinette!” he protested.
“That was for stealing my food.” Her eyes narrowed. “How many did you even eat?”
Chat froze, still sprawled on the floor, his expression very much like a deer in headlights. “Uh...”
Marinette’s lips quirked up. “Out with it, kitty.”
“I ate two?” he said, his voice going squeaky. Marinette suppressed a laugh as he cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, I ate two.”
“Oh, Chat.” She set down the spray bottle on the table by her side, and offered him a hand. Her eyes twinkled as she said, “You’re a terrible liar.”
Chat laughed nervously as she pulled him up. “Ahaha, no, what do you mean?”
“Come off it, Chat.”
He plopped back down on the seat, slumping backwards. “Okay, yeah, I ate five.”
Marinette stared at him, stricken. “Five?”
“Look, I was hungry, okay,” Chat said hastily. “And you can’t deny that your parents’ bakery is the best one in Paris!”
Marinette let out an incredulous laugh. “Maybe we weren’t losing our pastries to rats after all.”
“Princess!” Chat pouted.
“What am I going to do with you, Chat?” she said, an exasperated yet fond smile on her face.
He grinned back, offering no answer.
Shaking her head, she said, “Silly kitty.”
ii.
After years spent fighting alongside each other, and the threat of Hawkmoth ramping up from 6 to 11, Ladybug had finally deemed revealing their identities necessary. So they'd met up at a secluded rooftop where they usually began their patrol, and prepared themselves for the moment of truth.
When the masks fell and their disguises faded, they hadn’t expected to know each other. But they did, and now Adrien stared open-mouthed at Marinette, dazed with revelation and joy and… relief .
It was as if there had been an unconscious desire for Ladybug to be Marinette in him all along. It was as if he couldn't have borne it if Ladybug had been anyone else.
“Marinette,” he breathed, awe-struck. “M'lady.”
“Adrien?” Marinette’s voice is filled with disbelief, joy, giddiness—
And oh, no, there was something blurring his vision, and—
And then he was in her arms, Ladybug’s arms, Marinette ’s arms, and he still couldn't believe he could be this lucky, that their everyday Ladybug was exactly that, that his princess could be his lady, and it was what had him outright sobbing in her embrace.
“Adrien,” Marinette choked out. “Adrien, stop, you're making me want to cry, too.”
At that, he laughed, the sound distorted by his clogged up throat. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just—”
He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, his tears fading into the fabric of her shirt. “I'm so happy.”
Marinette tightened her grip on his back. “Y— You are?”
“I mean, of course!” He sighed, melting further into her arms. “You're, like, the best person ever. Close second to Ladybug. And now that I know you are her...”
“Aw, kitty...” She sniffed, lifting an arm to swipe away her tears.
He lifted his head. Her eyes were glassy, her hair ruffled, her cheeks flushed. She was breathtaking.
Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes, trying to savor the moment. Her lashes whispered against his skin, eyes presumably fluttering closed, and he shivered.
“You and me against the world.”
Adrien sighed happily. “You and me against the world.”
They stood there for some time. In vain, Adrien tried to memorize the way she breathed, the way she felt against him, the way her hands would occasionally come up to brush against his hair.
Will I ever experience this again? Will I ever feel her arms around me again?
He didn't even know where they stood. All he knew was her and her forehead pressed against his, and he tried to tell himself that was enough.
Suddenly, she nudged his nose with hers. He opened his eyes, jarred out of his thoughts. “Yeah?”
“You're frowning,” she said, eyebrows creased. Adrien resisted the urge to smooth out her expression with his touch. “What's wrong?”
He flinched. “It's nothing, m'lady.” He offered her a weak grin. “Why would I be frowning?”
“Oh, stop.” Marinette rolled her eyes fondly. “Seriously, you're such a terrible liar.”
A short, breathy laugh escaped him. “Yeah… I guess I haven't gotten any better.”
He exhaled, reflex directing his stare downward. “Do you really want to know?”
Marinette gently cupped his cheek, lifting his face up to face her. “I am if you're alright with it. I don't want to force you into anything. Do you want to?”
He felt like his heart was going to burst, his mind dizzy with the sheer care in her words. Oh, he was a goner.
“Yeah,” he said, his flushed cheeks and fried brain spurring him on. Get it over with. What more have you to lose? “Okay. I just wanted to ask you if...”
Never mind the probable, imminent rejection. He had to know.
“Do you lo— like me? Are we a thing now?”
Marinette blinked at him, surprised. “What?”
Adrien’s face fell. “So that’s a no, then.”
“Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that-”
Marinette caught his face in her hands, even as he was about to turn away. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.”
He swallowed, trapped beneath her unyielding stare. “Mmf.”
“Adrien Agreste, I have been in love with you for three years.” Her cheeks pinked slightly, but she barreled on. “Why would you even think I’d say no to that kind of question?”
“You’ve- You’ve been in love with me ?” was all he could say to that, his voice wavering.
He was Ladybug’s mystery guy?
He had been competing with himself the whole time?
“You’re kidding,” he said, although he desperately hoped she wasn’t. “Seriously? Me?”
She snorted. “Yeah, isn’t it ironic? I turned you down for… well, you .”
Adrien put his face in his hands, overwhelmed. “We’ve been such idiots .”
“Hey, that’s not how you treat your girlfriend,” Marinette chided.
Beneath his palms, heat spread on his cheeks like wildfire. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear,” he mumbled.
Marinette pried his hands away from his face. “Adrien?”
“Yes, princess?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He did. She tasted like passionfruit and love.
iii.
Fast forward to one year later, and Ladybug and Chat Noir were surrounded by the paparazzi, fingers firmly interlaced even as a barrage of questions hit them from all sides.
“How long will it take until the two of you defeat Hawkmoth? It’s been nearly four years now!”
“Ladybug, Chat Noir, do you think your relationship endangers your hero work?”
“Any comment on the recent sighting of Mayura?”
Ladybug and Chat Noir waded through the sea of reporters, firm and honest in their rebuttals. No, they didn’t know when, but they were confident it’d be soon. No, their relationship did not affect their duties, and they both knew when to be professional, thank you very much. No comment on the last one.
They were a little more generous with Alya, whose russet locks and kind, enthusiastic eyes were always a welcome sight amongst the others that hovered like flies ready to swarm left out meat.
“Ladybug, you know you can always ask me for help if you need it, alright?” Alya darted a furtive glance around them. “Paris is getting restless. It’d be best if you found Hawkmoth quicker.”
Ladybug sighed. “Yeah, I can tell.” She leaned closer to Chat. It was easier to center herself when she was around him. Her fingers gripped his tighter. “I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, though. Especially since Hawkmoth knows… you know.”
Alya winced. “I understand.”
“Thank you so much for the offer, Alya,” Chat said, shooting her a warm smile. “We’ll keep it in mind, if there’s a need.”
“Yeah,” Ladybug added. “We really appreciate all you’ve done.”
Alya lit up, a grin spreading from ear to ear. “It’s no problem, really. Least I can do for you guys. Besides, my two friends are together now, which means I don’t have any matchmaking to fill my spare time anymore.”
Chat blushed furiously. He coughed into his hand, looking away, and hoped Alya wouldn't notice. “Really?”
“Yeah, they've been dancing around each other for so long, and one of them is just totally oblivious,” Alya said, chuckling.
Ladybug looked like she was trying to hold in laughter. “I think I know someone just like that.”
Alya prattled on, oblivious to the heroes' reactions. “I doubt it. Adrien and Marinette really are one of a kind.”
Adrien and Marinette tried not to shake with embarrassed laughter.
“Marinette's a very good friend of mine,” Chat started.
Ladybug's fingers tightened around his as her lips quivered with restrained cackling. Very good friend.
“And I'm glad she's found someone,” he finished, smiling innocently at Ladybug.
“Adrien's a good friend of mine, too,” Ladybug quipped back. “I did say there was no use being jealous of him before. He's taken now.”
Chat's eyes screamed at her wordlessly. Internally, Ladybug was rolling on the floor with laughter.
“I- I was never jealous of him!” he spluttered.
She shook her head with mock solemnity. “Even now you're a terrible liar, my prince.”
Chat made a strangled noise.
Up until then, Alya had been watching their interaction with eyes the size of dinner plates, her gaze ping-ponging back and forth between the two.
She took pity on Chat and changed the subject.
“O… kay,” Alya said hesitantly. “Maybe we should move on to a different topic.”
“Yes, let's,” Ladybug replied, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Chat grouched. “Yeah, yeah.”
iv.
Sheets of rain crashed over the city, and lightning crackled as the wind howled mightily.
It was a fitting tribute, thought Adrien, to the storm that similarly raged on in his heart.
Rain lashed against the windows, cascading in rippling, turbulent sheets of water. His vision blurred, but not from looking out through the water-beaten glass.
Adrien swiped at his eyes, his head against the cold glass. He was sat in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees, and a dull, unseeing expression in his stare.
Outside, the rain continued to slam down, plunging the world into a watery bleakness. But all Adrien could hear was the distant sound of sirens, and all he could see was the red and blue strobing his fiercely shut eyes.
All he could feel was the weighted, warm blanket that had been around his shoulders earlier, and all he could feel was the myriad of emotions—pain, betrayal, hurt, why did you do it Father, why did it have to be like this —that swirled through him knowing he was Hawkmoth's own son.
He didn't know how long it'd been—it could've been a minute, could've been a year, as he languished with his head pressed against the chilly windows, the never-ending rain muffled in his ears, consumed with this never-ending anguish. All he knew was it hurt, like nothing had ever hurt before, and it pained him to breathe and his heart was utterly, thoroughly, cracked in two.
He thought he heard someone crying, then he realized the sound was coming from himself. It tore him apart, that he could still shed tears over his father— “father” , he thought bitterly.
But Gabriel Agreste had been the closest thing to a father he'd had, so Adrien cried his heart out, emptied himself of tears until there was nothing left to give.
When Marinette visited him, hours later, after the rain had died down, she was clad in Ladybug's attire and carrying croissants.
She'd have come sooner, but he'd asked for some space earlier. He felt a twinge of regret. Having his Lady around might've made it easier.
But there were some things one had to face themself, and he thought his father turning out to be a supervillain probably qualified.
“Hey, Adrien,” Ladybug said softly, padding over to where he now was curled up on the bed. “How are you?”
His first instinct was to say “fine”, or “good”, or “okay”. But his Lady was already shaking her head, a gentle reminder that he wasn't exactly the best at lying. Especially when it came to her.
“...I feel like trash,” he admitted. And he looked like it too, he knew, with his rubbed-raw eyes and his disheveled hair and his splotchy cheeks.
Marinette's face softened, her small smile turning sad. “Kitty… Is there anything I can do?”
“Cuddle with me?” he asked hoarsely.
She set down the package of food and immediately went to his side, wrapping herself around him. “Of course.”
Cocooned in her warmth, Adrien felt as if a barrier was being constructed around him, shielding him from the thoughts that swirled through him like a hurricane.
“I love you,” she murmured in his ear. “Don't forget that. I love you.”
A tingly feeling settled over him, chasing away the last bits of cold.
“M'lady,” he sighed, notes of yearning and heartache and most importantly, genuine, unfathomable, requited love in his voice, and his hand moved to clutch one of hers.
It was all he could say at the moment, dazed with the double whammy of emotion he'd experienced today. But he hoped she could still hear the unspoken “I love you, too” in his words, hoped she could feel it in his touch. He hoped it was enough.
Adrien could already feel his hold on consciousness weakening, the pull of sleep dragging him in. So he let himself be pulled, let himself drift deeper into unconsciousness, and let himself be held in his Lady's arms as she brushed his tangled hair away from his face.
Here he was safe, protected. And here he would slumber in peace, knowing that while she was around, everything—yes, everything —would be alright.
v.
Now they were at Alya and Nino's wedding, watching teary-eyed as their best friends said their vows and promised themselves to each other, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health.
Marinette could feel Adrien drawing her closer, the arm that wrapped around her left shoulder comforting and warm. He was sniffling, too, and she offered him a tissue from the depths of her purse.
Will we look like that, too ? she wondered.
“Already planning ahead, princess?”
She swiveled to face him, cheeks flushing, Alya and Nino forgotten in the moment. “I— I said that out loud?”
“Yeah.” A small smirk found its way onto his lips. “You still haven't answered my question, Mari.”
“You may kiss the bride.”
She slapped him gently, turning back toward the newlyweds. “Shut up and pay attention.”
Adrien leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear. “As you wish, m'lady,” he teased, and even without looking at him she just knew his smirk had widened.
Her boyfriend was such a dork.
Later, when the reception had begun, they milled about with Marinette's hand in Adrien's elbow, the two of them stunning in red and black.
They made their way to the newlyweds, eyes and smiles bright with congratulations.
“Nino! Congrats, my dude!”
“Hey, Alya! I'm so happy for you two!”
Alya and Nino both beamed, then they went to hug their respective best friends, filling the air with smiling chatter.
After they'd finished the initial gushing and greetings, Marinette nudged Alya discreetly, sending her a covert look.
“Can I borrow Marinette for a sec?” Alya asked, taking the hint.
“I need to talk to Adrien too, actually,” Nino said breezily. He and Alya exchanged a secret smile.
Marinette shrugged, turning to Adrien. “Guess I'll see you later, kitty. Meet me at the snacks table?”
Adrien laughed distantly—Nino was already leading him away.
“Bye, m'lady!”
“Okay, spill.”
Marinette wrung her hands, her clutch abandoned on the neglected table where they sat.
She'd called Alya earlier, anxious, and although she'd managed not to think about it earlier, her stomach was now a pit of butterflies, torn between the urge to just tell someone and sheer, irrational worry.
“Hypothetically, if I were to propose to Adrien first, do you think he'd mind?” Marinette blurted.
Understanding dawned on Alya's face, and she mouthed a silent oh .
“So that's what's got you high-strung.”
Marinette nodded, popping her knuckles one by one as she fidgeted. “I mean, I know he probably won't care, but I just…”
Alya's hands closed over hers, stopping her from cracking yet another of her knuckles. “Hey. This is Adrien we're talking about.”
She shot Marinette a comforting smile. “He loves you, girl. He definitely won't mind.”
Marinette nodded, sudden tears springing to her eyes. “I love you, Als. Thank you for being my best friend.”
Alya leaned forward to give her a quick hug. “Love you too, babe.”
Abruptly, Alya's features clouded over.
“Okay, but if he actually does get hung over a thing like that, I'm going to slap some sense into him.”
Marinette cackled, despite the tears that leaked from her eyes. “Never change, Als. Never change.”
“Hey, Nino?”
“Mm?”
Adrien leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, a faraway look in his eyes. “How did you know when to do it?”
Nino stifled a grin. “When to do what?”
Adrien flushed. “T-The ring. Y'know. That.”
“The ring? What kind of ring?” he said innocently.
“Oh, for heaven's sake, Nino!” Adrien spluttered. “You know what I mean.”
Nino decided to spare him, and finally answered his question. “Well, I just felt like I could imagine living the rest of my life with her.”
He smiled fondly. “She's been there for me for so long, and I thought why not take the next step?”
Adrien had stilled while he'd been talking, and now he stared at the floor, eyebrows furrowed. “Do you think Marinette...?”
Nino clapped a hand on one of Adrien's shoulders. “Dude, you guys are sickeningly sweet to each other, and I know for a fact that you love Mari, and she loves you. What do you think?”
Adrien bit his lip, a blush spreading over his cheeks. “I think...”
Nino waited with bated breath, because finally! Finally they're going to stop dancing around each other because of a stupid ring!
Adrien smiled shyly. “I think I'm gonna need your help finding a ring.”
Nino whooped, uncaring of what his guests might think.
Let them stare. It was his wedding reception, and his best friend was about to work up the courage for a proposal.
And to think, he marveled, that he and Mari were enemies on their very first day of school.
By the time Adrien and Marinette had hurried back to their meeting spot, Alya and Nino long gone to socialize, they were both resolute in their purposes, with the help of their best friends. (What they didn't know was that their objectives were one and the same.)
Pecking the tip of Marinette's nose, Adrien lovingly smoothed back her hair, a soft smile on his lips. “Sorry for the wait, princess.”
She giggled. “Don't be. I took almost as long with you. What did you and Nino talk about?”
“...Glasses?”
Marinette flicked his forehead lightly.
“Ow!”
She chuckled. “Why do you even try lying to me? You're hopeless.”
He wore an affronted expression, puffing his chest. “Excuse you, m'lady. I'll have you know my fans think I'm excellent at it. Excellent at everything, in fact.”
“Well, that's 'cause they don't know you like I do,” she chortled. “Never mind, kitty. Let's go eat. I'm starving.”
Adrien gladly followed her lead.
vi.
Paris glowed in the dying, afternoon sunlight, muted orange and dusky rose painting a breathtaking scene. But to Adrien, Marinette—or rather, Ladybug, still proved far lovelier.
“Hey, kitty.”
(“Adrien, meet me at the Eiffel Tower later?”
“You mean as...” He gestured towards the snoring kwamis.)
He sank into a shallow bow and took her hand, brushing a kiss on her knuckles. It was like second nature. Muscle memory.
(“Yeah, it's been a while. You up for it, kitty?”
“Anything for you, princess.”)
“M'lady.”
She giggled. “Does being Chat Noir automatically trigger your 'chivalry isn't dead' mode? Like, I can almost see stars in your eyes.”
He smirked, his tongue working too fast for his mind to catch up. “Well, you were the one who put them there, bugaboo.”
Ladybug staggered, cheeks blushing bright red. “Adrien, you can't just say things like that!”
He was red, too, but he found it in him to grin and reply, “Why not? We've been together for years now, m'lady.”
“Oh, stop it, will you.”
But her grin was ear to ear, and her eyes were bright and soft.
“Sure… when you finally admit my puns are a-meow-zing.”
She snorted, smacking him lightly. “Never in a million years.”
“Then I guess you'll just have to live with my paw-some puns, then, purr-incess, because you'll never be able to buy my silence for anything less,” he quipped.
She laughed. “You're insufferable.”
“Hey, someone's got to be the lively one here,” he shot back, grinning.
“Oh, shut up. I'm not even that uptight!”
Chat smirked. “Sure.”
“God, I can't believe I'm about to propose to someone like you.”
Time skidded to a halt. Adrien's jaw dropped .
“M'lady?” he asked, as if in a daze. “Did you just...”
She stilled, horrified eyes turning to meet his.
“Did I say that out loud?” she said faintly.
“You mean the bit about proposing to me? Yeah.” His voice wobbled.
She sank to the ground, hands over her face. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“Nope,” he said, emotions turbulent underneath his growing smile. He knelt, bringing himself to her level. “If it makes you feel better, I had the same idea, too.”
She peeked at him through her fingers, seeming sixteen in that moment. There was something like incredulousness in her voice. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. You suggested going out here and I thought…”
Suddenly, he was in her grasp, her hands tugging him close and her face buried in the crook of his neck.
“Marry me,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over his skin, “I've never loved you as much as I have right now, please marry me.”
“Yes.” He squeezed her tighter, tears prickling at his eyes. “Yes, yes, yes!”
The last word was very nearly a sob—of relief, of joy, of sheer, overwhelming love for this woman he'd had the absolute fortune of knowing. And now marrying .
Marinette fiddled with her yo-yo, fumbling with a velvet-covered box. “Here,” she choked.
The tears were streaking down both their cheeks now. Adrien plunged his hand in one of the hidden pockets of his suit, drawing out his own box. “I got you one, too,” he said, and they laughed through their tears.
His lady—his, really his now—cracked open the box she held in her hands, prying a silvery ring from the cushion. It glittered with onyx stones, arranged in a miniature paw-print pattern, and he gasped at the sight of it.
“You didn’t.”
She smiled rather shyly, mouth quirking up at one side. “I did. Do you…?”
Before she could finish, he put a finger to her lips, his smile all wobbly with tears. “I love it.”
Marinette’s smile widened into a grin, and her eyes sparkled bright, light refracting through her watery eyes. Gently, she slid the ring on his finger, the ring clinking softly against his miraculous as she did.
She leaned down and kissed his hand, mimicking the way he'd greeted her mere moments ago.
“And I love you, kitty.”
Adrien hiccuped, and Marinette relinquished his hand. He swiped at his face, twin silver rings gleaming in the fading afternoon glow. “My turn?”
She nodded eagerly. He pried a rose gold ring from the velvet cushion, and she let out an audible gasp.
“You remembered!” Her wide smile alone could've powered the Eiffel Tower.
(By that, of course, she was referring to that one time she'd told him about her short stint as Multimouse, which had included her borrowing his ring, which had turned rose gold in her care. He'd laughed when she told him, partly because, one, how had he not known it was Ladybug under those space buns and that whiskered mask and two, " why are you getting excited about our different ring colors when I'm trying not to have a mental breakdown, Marinette—" )
He slipped the ring onto her finger.
“Yeah,” he said, voice shaking. “Of course I would.”
Marinette bit her lip, her grin threatening to spill over into—into whatever it was that could fully express the sheer joy she was feeling right now, good grief, she couldn't believe this was happening—
Adrien pressed his forehead to hers, his grin a twin to hers. “Let's get married, my Lady.”
She kissed him, and whispered against his lips, “Let's.”