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It was finally quiet.
The comforting hum of her bedroom fan was the only sound filling the air as Marinette laid back on her bed, hair splayed across her pillows in a tangled mess that mirrored how she felt inside. She’d survived another hectic day of school, barely scraped through a physics test, got yelled at in gym for "too much flair on a simple dodgeball throw," and oh yeah—a casual akuma attack during lunch. Just another day in Paris.
Now, in the soft pink glow of her fairy lights, she did what any exhausted teenager with a half-dead phone would do.
Doomscroll.
Her thumb flicked lazily up the screen, eyes barely processing the blur of images and text. A hamster in a hoodie. A disastrous cake attempt. A guy falling off a skateboard into a pool. She snorted.
Then—something caught her eye.
A reel popped up. The caption in bold letters read:
“What’s the best breed of cat?”
Cut to: a perfectly timed slo-mo edit of Chat Noir flipping his baton and landing with a smirk.
“This one. 😏”
Marinette blinked.
“...Oh my God.” She covered her mouth, laughing. “That’s so stupid.”
But her thumb hovered over the account name. @chaotic.chat_edits.
Curiosity got the better of her.
One click.
And suddenly she was staring at a full feed of Chat Noir content—videos, memes, slow-motion parkour, thirst traps (what?), close-ups of his smirks, his eyes, his abs. Some had unnecessarily dramatic music. Some were pure chaos. Some had captions like “Why is he so fine for no reason” and “Justice AND jawline???”
Marinette chuckled, then kept scrolling. And scrolling. And scrolling.
“This is ridiculous,” she mumbled, mouth twitching as she watched another video of Chat wink at the camera mid-battle. Someone had added sparkles and a cheesy heart overlay.
Yet she wasn’t scrolling away.
The next reel had a dramatic piano track and slow shots of him catching her—Ladybug—mid-air, eyes locked, faces close. The caption read:
“Just LOOK at the way he looks at her. He’s so down bad 😭💚🐾”
Marinette sat up slightly in bed, eyebrows raised. “Huh.”
Next one was just clips of him laughing, chasing pigeons, falling off rooftops, and then—sticking the landing with that smug grin.
Caption: “He’s a menace. But he’s my menace.”
She laughed again. But something inside her... shifted.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed Chat Noir was attractive before. Objectively, sure. Tall, fit, charming in a very annoying way. But she’d always been so wrapped up in Adrien, and then... well, life happened. And Chat? Chat was just her partner. Her very dramatic, pun-loving, loyal partner.
But now...
Now, her For You Page was full of sparkling green eyes and tousled black hair and that damn smirk that practically said “you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?”
“Okay,” she said aloud, narrowing her eyes at the screen. “Why is Chat... kinda hot?”
Tikki peeked up from the drawer she’d curled up in. “You’re only just now realizing this?”
“Tikki!”
Tikki giggled and floated lazily in the air. “He is cute. And he’s always had your back, you know.”
Marinette rolled onto her stomach, shoving her phone under her pillow as if that would stop the blush from blooming on her cheeks.
“It’s just the edits,” she muttered. “It’s the music. And the lighting. And... okay, maybe his arms. But that doesn’t mean I like him.”
“Sure,” Tikki hummed with a smile. “You don’t like him. You just watched fifteen edits of him in a row and called him hot out loud.”
Marinette groaned into her pillow. “It’s been a long day, Tikki. I’m vulnerable.”
_____________
Technically, his eyes were on the board where Mr. Damocles was droning about kinetic energy and friction coefficients, but mentally, he was a million miles away.
Physics class was normally tolerable. Numbers, laws, predictable patterns—he liked that. But today, everything felt... foggy.
His head was elsewhere.
Mostly on Ladybug.
They hadn’t talked much after yesterday’s akuma battle—she’d debriefed fast and zipped off into the night like usual. But the look in her eyes when he caught her mid-air (for the fourth time that month) had stuck with him. She’d blushed. Hadn’t said anything, but she blushed.
That had to mean something, right?
He sighed and tapped his pencil against his notebook.
Ladybug was brave, brilliant, beautiful—and somehow always just out of reach. He loved her. He knew he did. But sometimes he wondered if she’d ever really look at him the way he looked at her.
Then there was his father—cold as ever. He’d barely acknowledged Adrien this morning. Too busy designing his new "vision" for the brand. Adrien had said “good morning,” gotten a nod, and that was that.
Honestly, Adrien was mostly just looking forward to lunch and the movies later with Nino, Alya, and Marinette.
Marinette.
She was easy to talk to. Clumsy as hell, sure, but... warm. Funny. A little unpredictable. And she had this way of smiling that made him feel like maybe not everything in his life was a corporate prison.
A sharp scrape of a chair in front of him snapped Adrien out of his thoughts. Marinette had slumped into her seat, late again but managing to slide in just before Damocles started writing formulas on the board. She whispered a quick apology to Juleka beside her and pulled out her tablet.
Adrien leaned back, stretching slightly. He had no intention of focusing on centripetal force today.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Marinette’s screen flicker on. A flash of Instagram.
He tilted his head just a bit.
Not to be nosy. He was just bored. And curious.
Marinette was scrolling. Mostly reels. Memes. Cat videos. Then—
Oh.
Chat Noir.
A whole reel of him flipping off a chimney stack, landing in a crouch with a flourish. Slow motion. Sparkles. One of those audio clips with dramatic violin music and someone yelling, “I LOVE THIS MAN.”
Adrien blinked. Then grinned.
Damn, I do look good.
Marinette paused. Then liked the video. She kept scrolling. Another edit—Chat Noir dodging lasers with parkour, leaping across rooftops. Caption: “he’s not just a catboy, he’s THE catboy.”
Adrien stifled a laugh.
Wait.
Did Marinette like Chat Noir?
Oh, he had to tease her.
____________
The group had claimed their usual outdoor table near the window. Alya was venting about someone stealing her scoop on an exclusive akuma theory, and Nino was half-listening, half-dismantling his sandwich into what could only be described as a “bread sculpture.”
Adrien stirred his drink casually.
“So, Mari,” he said, smirking.
She looked up mid-bite of her croissant. “Huh?”
He leaned in a little. “Big fan of Chat Noir, huh?”
Marinette froze. “W-what?”
Alya paused her rant. Nino glanced up, intrigued.
Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Saw you watching a bunch of edits in physics. Didn’t know you were that into the guy.”
Marinette turned scarlet. “Th-they just came up on my feed! I didn’t— It’s not like I—”
“She was blushing while watching one,” Nino added, feigning innocence. “Pretty sure I heard her whisper something about his arms?”
“I DID NOT—” Marinette slapped both hands over her face. “I wasn’t whispering about anyone’s arms, oh my God.”
Alya was cackling. “Girl, you did spend like an hour last night sending me Chat Noir edits. Don’t even try to lie.”
Nino added helpfully, “To be fair, he is kind of ripped. It’s the leather suit. Enhances muscle definition.”
Adrien couldn't lie it felt nice to hear his friends talk about him, so he couldn't help but smirk.
Marinette peeked at him through her fingers, face still red. “Y-you’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Oh, absolutely,” he grinned.
She groaned. “I’m never bringing my phone to school again.”
“Too late,” Adrien said. “I now know your secret. You’re in love with Paris’s number one bad boy.”
Marinette looked like she might melt into her seat. “He’s not a bad boy—he’s just... dramatic.”
“Flawlessly dramatic,” Adrien corrected, tossing her a wink. “With great hair.”
She rolled her eyes. “Pfft, yeah right.”
But she was smiling now. And Adrien couldn’t help but notice that even through the embarrassment, Marinette’s laugh was the kind that made the whole table feel lighter.
Maybe teasing her about Chat Noir wasn’t the nicest thing to do...
But her reaction? Totally worth it.
______________
The Eiffel Tower glowed gold in the fading light, casting long shadows across the city below. Paris was peaceful tonight—no akuma, no chaos. Just the hush of wind and the warmth of the summer sunset sinking beneath the rooftops.
Ladybug sat with her knees pulled to her chest near the edge of the tower’s upper platform, the familiar hum of the city floating in the distance.
Beside her, Chat Noir lay stretched out on his back, arms folded behind his head, one leg crossed over the other, tail flicking lazily in the breeze. He hadn’t spoken in a while. Just... relaxed. Trusted the quiet.
Which was making it all worse.
Marinette snuck a glance at him from the corner of her eye. His hair was a mess as usual, windswept and soft-looking in the dying sunlight. His mask caught a hint of gold. So did his smile.
Her heart did a very stupid flip. Again.
She stared out at the skyline, face warming.
Please don’t notice I’m acting weird, she begged silently.
Please, please, please—
She’d deleted Instagram that morning.
That was rock bottom, right?
After accidentally liking a shirtless Chat Noir edit at three a.m., she’d decided it was time to cut herself off. Cold turkey. No more reels. No more slow-mo parkour. No more captions like “he can claw my heart any day 💚🐾.”
Unfortunately, deleting the app hadn’t deleted the thoughts. Or the butterflies. Or the weird little hearts her brain kept imagining around him every time he said something even remotely flirty.
Tikki might be right, she thought, rubbing the back of her neck.
Maybe I do have a crush on Chat Noir.
It felt bizarre to even think. For so long, Adrien had taken up all the space in her heart—golden, sweet Adrien. But it had been nearly a year since she’d truly let go of those feelings. And maybe, just maybe... she’d missed what was right in front of her this whole time.
Chat had always been there. With his awful puns and stupid nicknames. But also with his loyalty, his kindness, his bravery.
And the truth was... he’d probably make a really good boyfriend.
“Okay,” she muttered under her breath, trying to snap herself out of it. “This is ridiculous. Stop being weird.”
“Are you mad at me?”
The words hit her like a startled jolt of electricity. She blinked.
Chat was sitting up now, brows furrowed, green eyes serious.
“What? No!” she said, too quickly. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
He tilted his head. “You’ve been... different lately. All stuttery. Quiet. Distracted. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I love a dramatic rooftop silence as much as the next cat, but you usually at least throw a few sarcastic comments at me by now.”
Ladybug cringed. “It’s just... personal stuff.”
Chat’s expression softened. “You wanna talk about it?”
She hesitated. “It’s complicated.”
“I don’t need the full story,” he said gently. “I get it. Secret identities and all. Just... if something’s bothering you, I’m here. You know that, right?”
Her chest tightened. She nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
There was a long pause.
Then—
“It’s about a guy,” she admitted, quietly.
Chat blinked. He recovered quickly, but she saw the subtle way his ears drooped. Just for a second.
“Ah,” he said. He leaned back on his hands. “Mystery guy.”
“I’ve known him for a while,” she continued, staring hard at the skyline to avoid looking at him. “We’re... friends. We’ve been through a lot together. And I guess lately, I’ve started to see him differently. Like, not just as my partner in crime—or whatever—but... someone I could maybe feel more for.”
Chat was silent.
She swallowed. “It’s scary. Because once you see someone that way, it’s kind of hard to go back. And I don’t even know if it’s real or just... edits and dumb feelings and... Ugh.”
To her surprise, he chuckled softly.
She glanced at him, startled. “What?”
“You think your feelings aren’t valid just because some social media edit made you notice them?” he asked with a crooked smile. “Ladybug, no offense, but you’re overthinking it like it’s a math test.”
She groaned and dropped her head to her knees. “Because I am overthinking it. That’s what I do.”
Chat nudged her gently with his shoulder. “Then maybe don’t.”
She peeked at him.
“Just... follow your heart,” he said simply, without the usual theatrical flair. “Wherever it leads you. Even if it’s scary. Even if it feels dumb at first. You’re the bravest person I know.”
Ladybug felt her chest squeeze in the way it only did when something hit too close.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Chat just smiled, turning his eyes back to the setting sun
The silence between them stretched long and golden, wrapped in sunset and hesitation.
Then—
“Wait,” Chat said suddenly, turning toward her. “Is this guy a celebrity or something?”
Ladybug blinked. “What?”
“I mean,” he continued, lifting an eyebrow, “you said you started seeing him differently, and earlier you mentioned edits—sooo, like, is he Insta-famous? Does he do collabs with pigeons? Should I be worried?” He was clearly teasing, but something in his voice hinted at curiosity. A little too curious.
Ladybug froze.
Panic flared in her chest.
Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.
Why did she say “edits”? Why didn’t she lie and say “feelings,” or “dreams,” or anything else that didn’t directly connect back to those utterly ridiculous thirst-trap compilations?
She scrambled for an exit. “I—I should probably get going, actually! It’s late, and patrol’s basically over, and I promised my—uh—cat sitter I'd—”
“Wait,” Chat said, his voice soft but firm. He reached out and gently caught her wrist.
She stilled.
Her wide blue eyes locked with his, all glowing green and full of concern, and suddenly she was very aware of how close they were standing.
Too close.
Heat rushed to her cheeks so fast she was sure her face matched her suit.
Oh god. Oh no. Oh no again.
Imaginary little hearts popped up around him in her mind like confetti. Sparkly, annoying, Instagram-worthy confetti.
“You okay?” Chat asked gently, brow furrowed as he stepped in just a little closer. “You look like a tomato.”
Before she could answer, he pressed the back of his gloved hand lightly to her forehead.
Her brain promptly stopped working.
“You don’t feel feverish,” he murmured, gaze scanning her face with quiet worry. “But seriously—are you sure you’re—?”
His voice faded.
Because she wasn’t listening. Not really.
There were a few loose strands of hair falling across his forehead—golden in the last rays of the sunset—and without even thinking, she lifted her hand and reached out.
She brushed the strands away, fingertips grazing just above his brow.
It was such a small gesture.
But it felt... intimate.
When she realized what she’d done, she jerked her hand back like she’d touched a live wire. “Sorry!” she blurted.
Chat blinked at her.
His cheeks had gone pink. Very pink.
They stared at each other in awkward silence, both blushing so hard they could probably power the Eiffel Tower for a week.
Then, somehow, Chat found his voice again. His smile was soft, a little crooked. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable... about the guy. I didn’t mean to pry. I just...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t want you to leave yet.”
Ladybug’s heart did a slow, swooping somersault.
She brushed a stray hair behind her ear, still flushed. “Thanks,” she said, barely above a whisper.
He leaned forward slightly. “Are you sure you feel okay?”
She nodded and looked away, trying to collect herself, trying to breathe.
This wasn’t how she wanted this to go. She wasn’t supposed to be losing her cool like this. She was supposed to be normal. Not zoning out over his hair. Not melting at the sound of his voice.
Then—
“You look beautiful.”
The words landed like a gentle lightning strike.
Her head snapped back toward him.
“What?”
“You are beautiful,” Chat said again, quieter this time. Like he couldn’t stop the words even if he tried. Like he didn’t want to.
His eyes were wide, sincere. His lips curled upward slightly, like he was dazed by his own honesty.
Ladybug didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her mouth had gone completely dry.
But her heart—her heart was yelling.
And so, with a breath that felt like jumping off a rooftop, she gave him a shy smile and murmured, “You’re... not so bad yourself.”
Something passed between them in that moment. A beat. A hush. A shift.
Ladybug looked down, then back up at him, nerves fluttering in her stomach.
“Actually,” she said, barely audible. “The guy I was talking about... it’s you.”
Chat froze.
“I’ve been seeing you in a new light,” she whispered. “And it’s kind of terrifying. But also... kind of amazing.”
His jaw dropped just slightly. His ears twitched. “Me?” he breathed.
She nodded. “You.”
He stared at her like she’d just rewritten the laws of physics.
And for once, Chat Noir had no joke, no pun, no flirty comeback.
Chat didn’t move at first. He just stood there, frozen in awe, blinking like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.
Ladybug’s heart pounded so loudly in her chest she was sure he could hear it echoing through the steel beams of the tower.
Then slowly—carefully—he took a step closer.
“Me?” he repeated again, softer this time, like it was sacred.
She nodded once, cheeks burning, eyes wide. “You.”
A breath left him—light, stunned, and just a little shaky.
And then the look on his face changed. Slowly, like a sunrise. From disbelief to something warm, bright, and almost reverent.
He took another step toward her, now only inches away, close enough that she could see the way the fading sunlight caught in the green of his eyes. His voice, when he spoke again, was barely more than a whisper.
“Can I tell you something crazy?”
Ladybug nodded, her throat too tight for words.
“I’ve always been serious about you. I know I flirt a lot but I really am in love with you.” Chat said, smiling in that soft, crooked way of his. “Have been since I met you.”
She inhaled sharply.
Her knees felt like mist.
Neither of them moved for a heartbeat. Then two.
The air between them shimmered with something unsaid, something fragile and infinite.
And then—
Chat lifted his hand slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted. He didn’t push, didn’t assume. Just gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, fingers brushing against her cheek. His palm hovered there, cupping her jaw so delicately it made her breath catch.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, thumb grazing her skin like she might disappear if he touched her too fast. “And right now, you’re looking at me like I’m not just some ridiculous cat in a mask.”
“You’re not,” Ladybug whispered.
His eyes searched hers.
“Can I?” he asked, voice low and trembling with hope. “Kiss you?”
She couldn’t speak.
She just nodded.
And then—
He leaned in.
Their lips met, and the world seemed to slow down around them.
It was soft at first. Gentle. Curious.
Like they were both still a little surprised it was happening.
Ladybug’s hands found his shoulders, then slid to the base of his neck as she kissed him back, her eyes fluttering shut. His hand stayed on her cheek, steady, while the other came to rest lightly at her waist, drawing her in just a little more.
The kiss deepened, not rushed—just full of all the unspoken things they hadn’t been able to say until now.
The city below disappeared. So did time.
It was just them.
Her lips tingled when they slowly parted, their foreheads resting together, breaths mingling in the quiet air.
Ladybug let out a soft laugh, her eyes still closed. “So... that happened.”
Chat smiled, voice husky and warm. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
They stood there in silence again, no longer awkward—just holding each other in the last glow of the sunset.
And for the first time in a long time, everything just felt simple.