#hiccup falling how I loathe thee

[thoughtsofananon]

Small animatic

[miraculousturtle]

to you, i thee wed (chapter 12)

They didn’t know they were marrying each other until the bride got to the altar. And then panic ensued. A Miraculous Ladybug Married at First Sight AU.

(AO3//FF.net)

Pairings: Adrien/Marinette

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 

WC: 7.8 K 

A big thank you to @gigiree and @panda013 for editing! :D 

There is magic in the world, Chat Noir knows. He feels in it in his very bones, in the utterance of an incantation, integral to the deepest pit of his soul. Paris becomes home again as Chat Noir clings to Ladybug's welcoming, magical embrace.

He holds her close, never wanting to let go again. How he survive all these years without her by his own volition is something that he can’t understand. How did he go this long without the solace of her friendship?

Ladybug sobs into his chest as his tears soak her hair. This is the truest form of homecoming, love so powerful that no words are needed to say “I missed you”. No words are worth speaking. The ghost of Chat Noir’s past finally meets him in the present and nothing has felt more right than this moment. It only took a while to get here.

Below them, Paris is unaware the relief they feel at their reunion. All transgressions forgiven with hiccups and hellos buried in tight hugs. The stars above are the only witnesses to a wish spent years in the making.

Another part of him wishes that they wouldn’t have to discuss the years long of pain he’s caused them. His biting betrayal that’s haunted them both. But he’s no longer a child who can pretend the hurt away, especially if he’s the one who caused it. Magic isn't strong enough for that.

Somewhere in Paris, a final church bell rings and Chat Noir’s  heart aches with penance. “I missed you so, so much.”

Ladybug stiffens in his arms, her breath in time with the hollow bells across the city. Silence blankets over them, their crying fading as reality catches up to them. There is no more running.

Ladybug hugs him tighter, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

“So much,” she says, her voice cracking.

Her admission knocks the wind out of him, punches him straight in the gut. Guilt spirals through his veins, making it hard to breathe. “I know.”

The air crackles between them as Ladybug pulls back.  Determination blazes fierce in her expression as the moon hangs behind her. It encases her in a silvery halo of retribution and she has never looked more beautiful.

She pinches his side, causing him to yelp and oh, how he has missed the steely gaze in her bluebell eyes. “No, you don't know,” Ladybug grits. “You have no way of knowing because—believe me, I've practiced this conversation a thousand times."  She points an accusing finger at him, frustration rich with her every action. “You are going to listen.”

Chat Noir nods, knowing when to be quiet. Choosing to be quiet because she deserves to have this. Her anger, her righteous fury. She deserves to let it free and aim it at her target.

Ladybug takes a deep breath, her body poised as if to yell, but then she deflates. She wraps her arms around herself, makes herself so small. “I don’t even—I don’t even know what I want to say anymore…”

“That’s a lie.” He laughs, mirthless and hallow. “How about the way I hurt you? Or about how I was selfish? Or how I was inconsiderate? Or—”

In a blink, she’s in front of him, her hand on his bicep, her smile kind. “Or how about you stop that? There’s no point in being angry anymore. What’s done is done, Chat.”

Chat Noir feels his heart crawl into his throat. “I don’t know about that, LB. I hurt you. I hurt us.”

Her fingers give a loving squeeze, become his lifeline as she becomes all the world that he sees. “You did, but you came back. You’re here with me right now.”

Loathing sears across the bridge of his nose, disgust heaving in his chest. “I shouldn’t have left in the first place. God, I was so stupid,” he says, scrubbing his eyes.

Once again, her fingers bring clarity and hope, this time as she takes them from his eyes. She holds them with love and lets out a weary, exasperated breath.  

“Then why did you leave? Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

He stills, his heart rampant in his chest. “Do you want the whole truth or only half?”

Ladybug interlaces their fingers together, her wrist and pulse point aligned with his. “It’s been a long time, Chat. I think we deserve the whole truth. Don’t you think so, too?” She bites her lip before continuing. “Is it because...is it because I didn’t fall in love with you?”

“Me-ouch, Bugaboo. Way to assume to worst of me,” he scolds playfully, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  “But no. It had nothing to do with you. It had everything to do with me and my family.”

“Like what?”

“Again, do you want the whole truth or only half of it?”

“The whole, please.”

A few seconds tick by and then he lets go of her hands, her warmth missed . With a sigh, Chat Noir sits down and pats the space besides him. “I don’t think I can tell you while looking at you. And you should...well, sitting would be good?”

Ladybug studies him, trying to understand what he means. She sits as he directed, their arms only inches apart and it reminds him of the years that spanned between them. So close, but so far. The steel from the Eiffel Tower is a cold reminder of the regret that lays deep in his heart.

“Why did you leave, Chat? I promise I won’t be mad. I’m tired of being mad.”

He snorts. “I’m not worried about you being mad. I just—I couldn’t bear if you hated me. That’s why I never told you…” he trails off. With another sigh, he focuses on the twinkling lights of Paris, a sight he’s memorized in all the years of his longing. “You were my most precious friend growing up. I loved no one more than you. And I don’t think I’ll love anyone like you. You were my best friend, Ladybug. You meant the world to me.”

She catches him by surprise by knocking into his shoulder. Giving her a sidelong glance, he gives her soft and sweet smile. “You still mean the world to me, Chat. I’ve been half a hero since you’ve been gone.”

Knowing when he’s been defeated, he wraps an arm around her and holds her close. “You’re always a hero, Bug. No matter what you do or where you are, you are a hero. In the mask or not. That I have no doubt.”

Ladybug places her head on his shoulder,  as if she’s allowing her heart to rule over her brain. “When I’m Ladybug, you’ve always been half my heart. And when you left, you took half of it with you.”

Her truth sings crisp and clear through the moment, unable to be taken back with her honesty. Chat Noir’s heart quivers and quakes, his soul shaking at the simpleness of her statement. Years apart has helped him forget how awe inspiring she can be when she cares about something. The way Ladybug still cares about him, her affection tangible as she rubs his back as if they were never apart.

He laughs despite himself, words lost in the familiarity. He leans over and rests his head upon hers and shuts his eyes. For a moment, he pretends a shooting star falls and he wishes with all his might that everything will be okay. Somehow, someway, he prays he doesn’t wreck his second chance before it even begins.

“One day,” he starts, but his voice heavy in the back of his throat. He swallows and tries again. “One day when were about eighteen, don’t you wonder why Hawk Moth disappeared?”

Ladybug ponders to herself, her fingers taking purchase in his leather suit. When ready, she hums with thought, the sound tickling his shoulder. “I thought he was planning something big. We both thought that. The last time—the last time I saw you, we agreed that. And you told me that we should lay low too…”

“That’s right. I did. Because I wanted us to fade from public view.”

Ladybug takes a deep breath before she whispers, “I didn’t think that would be the last time I saw you.” Her voice wavers, the watery wobble drowns him.

He flexes his fist, his claws digging into his palm. “It wasn’t the goodbye I intended, but I didn’t feel very brave in the moment to state otherwise.”

Her only response is another hitch of breath.

“...I had it all planned out,” he says, letting out a puff of air.  “I was going to tell you the truth, reveal myself to you, and then disappear. But I only did one of those things. The cowardly thing.”   

Ladybug lifts her head up from his shoulder and angles herself towards him. Her blue eyes beseeching answers. “Chat, tell me. Please. I promise it won’t change anything.”

He closes his eyes, unable to look at her and shakes his head. “No, Ladybug. It will change everything. I assure you.”

“Chat, please...”

Time ticks endlessly forward, in this moment and in beyond. There is no going back, he knows, but a part of him wants nothing more than that. With his heart hammering in his chest, he opens his eyes and finds her gaze again, always kind and inviting. It gives him the last bit of resolve he needed.

“My father was Hawk Moth.”

The world does not stop at his darkest secret hangs between them. No magic is strong enough to do that, but it does still Ladybug in her tracks. She blinks, her mouth parted in disbelief. “Oh.” Ladybug doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “Was?”

“Yes.”

“So...so, he’s no longer Hawk Moth?” She ask, hesitation in her voice, her world not the same.

Chat Noir knows the feeling. He gives her a wane smile, only stating fact and quenching memories that hurt more so than usual. “He’s no longer alive.”

“Oh.” A beat. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

It’s not the first time someone has said these things to him, but it strikes him funny that Ladybug would pay his father the same courtesy. Despite that there were plenty of afternoons where she wanted nothing more than to throttle Paris’s own Gabriel Agreste.

Oddity and peculiarity find him well in this moment. “It’s...it’s okay. He wasn’t perfect. He was fucking Hawk Moth, but he loved me. And...we were happy. When we left Paris. We were a family for that little while,” he admits.

He feels young again, not for the first time since he’s come back home and certainly not the last. The childhood nostalgic that calls him now has nothing to do with falling in love or almost noticing a pretty girl. It lies in the one love Adrien wanted all along. Even now, transformed and invulnerable,  he’s still chasing after his father’s shadow.

“I’m still sorry. I—I understand why you didn’t tell me when we were kids. I can’t even imagine…” she whispers. “It’s brave that you told me. Really brave. Thank you.”

Chat Noir follows her gaze as she stares at the city. There was always something in the distance that caught her eye too when they were younger. It is only hitting him now that Ladybug looks towards home in dark moments. To making sure family is safe before any fight.

A star flickers above and catches his attention. “I wanted to. Believe me I wanted to. So much.”

“If my dad was Hawk Moth…you’re a kinder person than me, Chat. I’m not sure if I could ever forgive him.” She lets outs a dry laugh. “Yeah, pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to forgive him.”

He shrugs. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive him. He was...a controlled disaster, but I loved him even with all his faults. He called me foolish one night when we got drunk together. Told me that I was stupid to stick by him despite all the wrong he’s done. All the evil’s he’s done. But...but, I told him if I’m foolish than he better count his lucky stars because a fool of a son is all he’s ever gonna get.”

“That’s a nice story, Chat, but you’re no fool. Just someone who loves a lot.”

“You would know.”

“That’s right,” she says. “I would know.”

Maybe it’s because magic finds him fast, but Ladybug’s smile is still much like starlight. It is sweet and soft when the world is quiet. He can’t even begin to count how many times he’s swooned because of that smile. Even now, there is an unknown beauty at her edges. Her effervescent self still otherworldly all these years later. His first love, without a doubt, has matured into an even more remarkable woman.

“When did you find out? About your dad being Hawk Moth?”

Chat Noir welcomes her question with slight hesitation, a bit of fear picking up his pulse. There is no lying or hiding now, not when the hardest part of the truth spoken.

“Ah….sometime in our last year during school,” he admits. “Before I left for sure. He found out first when we were younger, but then I found out that he found out that I was Chat Noir. And he was Hawk Moth and—god, the amount of times he freaking possessed me one way or another. So pissed. I’m still pissed actually.”

Her eyes go wide and her voice cuts through the night. “And you stayed with him? You willingly stayed with him?” She repeats the question again in disbelief. Rage simmers in her small frame, the fire in her eyes reflected by the moonlight.

But a defensive heart grows inside Chat Noir’s chest, taking root in his past. He puffs up, not knowing how to explain the complicated relationship with his father. Or how to convey to another person the intricate maze of twisted familial love yet he tries anyway.

“Well, yeah,” he says. “He was my dad and I loved him. Even though he was stupid. So, so stupid. But anyway, after a particularly tough fight where we won. Again. I went home and punched him in the face.”

“You punched him?”

“Socked him square in the face.  Not my finest moment, but so worth it. Then we got to talking and well, I found out why which didn’t make it better, but it made it understandable. So I gave him an ultimatum. Give up being Hawk Moth or—”

“Or?”

“He’d lose me too. That was the deal. And he took it.”

“Wow. That's all it took? He stopped because you asked?” she scoffs. “Not that I’m doubting you, but I just...I find that so hard to believe.” Her anger is red hot and bright, matching her suit. “He tortured the entirety of Paris, tortured you and all we—actually, you! All you had to do is ask for him to stop?”

Adrien smiles again, but there is no positive emotion tied to it. He understands where she’s coming from. The same hurt, the same pain of your enemy giving up and yet…

He takes her hand and squeezes it, hoping for a moment that his touch can transfer his years long patience. “...I think he wanted an end too. That the dream he desired would never come true.”

Ladybug’s mouth wobbles at the edges. “What did he want to do in the end? With our Miraculouses?”

He swallows a deep breath and ignores his own rising anger. “He wanted to bring my mom back.” He doesn’t say that it didn’t matter because Emilie Agreste found her way back all on her own, but far too late.

That’s a story for another day.

“I guess—I guess I can understand why you didn’t tell me. This is a lot to process,” Ladybug babbles. “It’s almost like out of a t.v. show.”

Chat Noir barks a laugh and rubs the back of his head. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad I know now. I’m still hurt, don’t get me wrong...but, this can be our new beginning.”

Now that he's told her the truth, Adrien feels lighter than he has in a long time. “My Lady, you’re far too sweet. I knew there was a reason I thought you were the best thing when I met you. Like sliced bread.”

She chuckles, a twinkle in her eye about some private joke. “I do happen to like sliced bread.” She sighs with relief before nudging him. “Can I ask another question?”

“You can ask all the questions you’d like. I owe you a bunch of answers.”

Ladybug stares out into the distance again, as if looking at him would bring an answer she doesn’t want to hear. “Are you...going away again? After this.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. I moved back to France recently. I got married too.”

Ladybug chokes on her surprise. “You? Married?! But you’re such a flirt!” She pokes his side, teasing in her jabs.

He swats her away. “Only when I like someone! And I happened to like you when we were young so that’s why you think I’m flirt. I’m terrible with women actually. Which I know is quite surprising.”

She clicks her tongue. “I doubt that. You’re Chat Noir! The coolest guy I know.  I’m sure you’ve had lots of girlfriends! And look at you, married now. Your wife has to be something special,” she coos, her smile affectionate.

The unexpected praise for Marinette warms his heart as she is something special. Thinking about her makes him realize that she’s indescribable, powerful, and remarkable. Even Paris’s most beloved superhero also realizes that Marinette is phenomenal.

“She is,” he softly says. He remembers this morning, in the way it felt to kiss her with sunshine as her halo. He thinks of the way she laughs at little things and is quick to blush when her parents dote on her.  He smiles, “I’m learning new things about her every day. Being married...well, she’s the best thing that’s happened to me as an adult. That’s for sure. And not to mention, she’s beyond beautiful.”

“Oh Chat, she sounds so lovely,” Ladybug sighs, much like a hopeless romantic.

He blushes, feeling bashful as he remembers the ring under his glove. He never thought marriage was for him, but now being a husband is now part of his identity. Much like how it happen when he became Chat Noir.

“One day I’ll be able to introduce you two. I think you’d both have a lot in common.”

“Well, we both love you so that’s plenty in common,” Ladybug says. “Does she know you’re Chat Noir?”

Her innocent question forces him to a full stop. It would be normal for a husband to tell his wife if he was a superhero. Because that’s what people do when they trust each other. And dear lord...it hits him like a ton of bricks—what Marinette was saying this morning.  About trust and not wanting him to have to pay for everything.

“God, I am such an idiot,” he mutters to himself.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing. Wow, just know that when you’re married, Ladybug, you’re most likely always going to be right.”   

She quirks her head to the side, her mouth in a confused but amused line. “I am married? So I guess I am always right?” She holds up her left hand and taps her ring finger.

He rolls his eyes, not knowing why he's surprised she's married. “And how does Mr. Ladybug feel about Mrs. Ladybug always being right?”

Ladybug bites her lower lip and looks at him awkwardly. “Um. Mr. Ladybug might not know that he’s...Mr. Ladybug yet…” she trails.

“Wow,” he says, his chuckle more like a scoff. “Pot meet kettle.”

“Hey!” she says, her voice punching the air. “I wasn’t even judging you! I was asking a legitimate question! And Mr. Ladybug will find out soon enough. Maybe when Mrs. Noir finds out, huh? How about them apples?”

Chat weighs his options and nods. “Okay, fair. I mean, I get where you’re coming from. So yeah, but to be honest, I’m happy for you. You deserve a good husband. What’s he like?”

She blinks for a moment before burying her face in her hands, her voice muffled.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She mumbles again, though this time a little louder.

“Uh….what was that?”

And this time, she shouts. “I married my crush, okay?! I married my crush who I was in love with since I was fourteen!”

Her words ring with such girlish adoration that Chat Noir can’t stop himself from giggling. It’s precious, watching Ladybug be flustered by her own outburst despite that no one in the world can hear them.

His giddiness is palatable. “Oh my god, what? Are you telling me that that dope you liked for all those years is your husband? He finally noticed you!? Senpai finally noticed you?!”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as an insult or a compliment,” she sniffs.

“It's an insult on his part, but dang. To think LB would get the man of her dreams,” he says, putting his hands behind his head, smirking.

Ladybug curls her knees to her chest, resting her chin atop them, pouting and scowling. “...I take back missing you if all you’re gonna do is tease me. You can go home now.”

He pats her back, with a touch too much affection at the tune of the resounding smack and glare she gives him. He winces with a silent apology and pats her softer this time, picking his words with tender care. “But Ladybug, I’m already home.”

She smiles and pushes him. “Go home to your wife, Chat. I’m sure she’s wondering where you are.”

“I’m sure your husband is thinking the same about you.”

Ladybug grins again, her smile goofy at the edges. He laughs to himself at her childlike expression.

She stands up and stretches before looking down at him. “Do you—hey, do you want to, I don’t know. Meet up for superhero coffee sometime soon?”

He stands up as well, excitement in his bones. “Like patrol? Kvinda like we used to?”

She nods. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t go out very often, but I know the city likes it when I pop my head in and say hi every now and then.”

“Yeah—you know, that would be fun. We can meet in a few days? I’ll send you an email for a time.”

“Sounds good, Chat. I’ll see you then.”  She nods again and holds out her first, the words “pound it” very much on her lips.

The sight makes his heart crawl into this throat and he wants to cry again, but this time in a good way. He knocks his fist against hers and everything about his past and present slide into place.

“Bye, Ladybug. See you soon, 'kay?”

“Bye, Kitty,” she says, her hand playing with her yo-yo before she pitches it.

He waves once more before setting up to extend his baton and leap over Paris. Ladybug calls to him as his thumb hovers the button. He turns around, confused by the desperate sound in her voice.

“Yes, My L—omph!”  

He doesn't get a chance to finish his question because Ladybug launches at him into a tight hug. She squeezes the breath out of him and she cuddles close.

She peers at him through her bangs, her quiet joy etched into her cheeks. “I’m happy you’re home.”

He swallows thick and doesn’t mind when laugh he hears when his voice cracks. “Me too, Ladybug. Me too.”

--

There is magic in the world, Marinette knows, in the same vein that wayward black cats find their way home. If dreams are wishes the heart make, then never in her wildest ones would she ever think her dearest friend would end up at her feet. Yet only an hour before, under the same sky she’s seen a thousand times, she spent it the same boy she never thought she would see again. Magic still clings to her skin as she remembers his visceral hug, the warmth of his blood under her hands as proof enough.

Marinette lumbers up the stairs to her apartment, the echo a much needed tug of her current reality. Candy bars crackle in the swing of her wrinkly shopping bag. The beat of her steps is enough to dull the intense velocity of her mind, so much to process in so little time.  Relief sings in her bones at the sight of her floor, today ending on such a unique and almost impossible note.

Chat Noir is finally home and still wants to be her friend.

And of course, the biggest bombshell of all—his father was Hawk Moth.

The tragedy is not lost on her, in the way misfortune strikes and pins families apart. She wonders what role she had to play in all this family drama, minus being her partner’s teenage love interest. Unfortunately, she wishes that this would have stayed in Shakespearean plays.

But, he’s home now. Her dearest and most precious friend. Chat Noir has grown up into a man, but there’s still the same boy in his features, in his grin. Her heart splits between elation and outrage, but forgiveness has already claimed her. Marinette sighs to herself in defeat, knowing that she’s beyond happy that he’s home.

Tikki nestles in the hood of her jacket and tickles her ear. “No point in trying to be angry, Marinette. You already hugged him.”

Marinette scowls as she pauses at the top stair, catching her own gaze in the mirror. She feels much like the girl she used to be, young and fourteen and disgruntled about boys. She scuffs her shoe. “Can’t I at least pretend? A little bit?”

Tikki laughs and tugs on her earlobe. “You’d lost that chance when you didn’t even yell at him. I told you so,” the little god sings. “I told you when you saw him again you’d forgive him on the spot.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t have to rub it in, Tikki Tik,” she mumbles, trying her best to frown despite the cheer surging through her.

Tikki snickers before going back to resting in Marinette’s hood. “I love being right,” the little god says, mischief in each word.

Marinette halts, scheming playfulness stopped when she sees someone from the corner of her eye.  She whirls around with a fist pulled back ready to strike.

Adrien puts his hands up in defense. “Whoa! Princess, it’s me! Your husband!” Fear is audible in his last note, uncertainty in his voice.

The fight flees Marinette the moment she recognizes him and she puts a hand over her racing heart. “What are you doing outside my apartment this late?” she asks. As an afterthought, she adds. “And also, princess?”

Adrien rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, uh,  it slipped out? It suits you too, I think. Princess.” He says the nickname again with an air of authority, confirming that he likes it. “It’s cute.”

Her nose twitches, deja vu tingling her brain.  “Ah, Chat Noir used to call me that so I find it funny.”

Adrien’s eyes widen. “Aha-ha, yeah. That seems like a Chat Noir thing, I guess. That flirt, that guy…”

“Uh, yeah—is everything okay? I thought you were coming over tomorrow?”

“Oh. Um. Things are fine, I don’t know. Just missed you? And I wanted to say good night and uh, give you these!”

He digs in his pocket and pulls out a thumb drive. “The videos. I made. While waiting for you. I wanted to give them to you. Like a diary...Anyway...” Shaking his bag, he holds it up too. “Anyway! These were my father’s sketchbooks! And I realized I didn’t get you a wedding present despite you got me the cuff links. Which were awesome, by the way. Very awesome. And…” His shoulders slump as be stumbles through his words. “So, you’re a designer. Yeah. I’m, I’m gonna go home now.”

Eyes downcast and he pouts, Adrien reminds Marinette of Chole every time she felt she didn't impress Ladybug enough. The memory plus the moment makes her smile.

Marinette giggles as he starts to walk away. “Hey, hey, hey! Can’t give me presents and then try to leave with them.”

Adrien stops mid step. “Oh, right. You might want these.” He comes back towards her, then something changes in his expression. He cups her face and rubs a thumb over her cheek. “Have you been crying?”

Marinette blinks for a moment and swallows thick.  “I, uh, I was watching a sad movie. Which is why I went and got...some snacks…”

He drags his hand down her neck, smoothing her shoulder then her arm. Marinette shivers with pleasure. It's distracting.

“I was wondering where you went. It’s a little late,” he murmurs.

Adrien leans in a little closer and Marinette can count the different specks in his green eyes. Usually, there is so much gold, but in her hallway, his eyes are darker, more mischievous than sweet. She wonders where she's seen that look before, but her thoughts disperse with his sneeze.

At least he has the manners to turn away and sneeze into the crook of his elbow, she thinks with amusement.

Her “bless you” is automatic. She snorts as he rubs his nose. “Says the guy who shows up at my apartment to give me wedding gifts and biological warfare.”

“I—I—”

She's not sure why, but she's enjoying being this playful with him. It's a refreshing change from constant stuttering. Besides, seeing him bright red and tongue tied is an adorable sight.

She catches his hand with hers  “Do you want to come in? It’s a little early technically, but I can give you the tour. Place’s clean now.”

Adrien pauses, his mouth parted in surprise before giving her a brilliant grin. “Yeah, that’d be great,” he says, eagerness woven in his voice.

With ease and her own smile, Marinette unlocks the door and invites him inside. She ignores the quickening pace of her heart and hastily flicks on the light. The ceiling lamp illuminates a soft yellow light over her modest kitchen and living room, a slight buzz above them. She turns on a lamp by the table too, hating how the singular light makes everything too dim.

“It’s not fanciest apartment,” she confesses as she drops her keys in a bowl. “But it’s a two bedroom which works for me.”

Adrien glances at her and fondness softens his lips. “Reminds me of the place I used to live when I was little. Before my dad made it big. It’s nice.”

The little memory throws her for a loop as she looks over her apartment. It’s not much, but it’s enough, she thinks. She wonders if Gabriel had the same thoughts as her when he was her age. And at the way Adrien soaks up the interior of her home, she thinks maybe he did.

The silence between runs for a beat or two before she rushes and starts her tour. “As you can see, this is the living room and that’s the kitchen! Somewhat open concept, but not really because of the half-walled counter,” she directs. She points at one side of her apartment, “That door right there is the bathroom and the one next to it is my room. And the door on the other side is my studio. It’s a very straightforward design to be honest.”

“Not bad. And not to bring up my rich boy sensibilities, but it's a little cramped?

Marinette laughs. “I see why hallways are a thing now. Having a courtyard living room is...stifling.”

Adrien looks at her bookcase, humming to himself in thought. Something catches his eye as he snatches something off the shelf. “Hey! It’s a picture of we graduated! Oh wow. I remember this day.”

Marinette peers over his shoulder to find a late night group photo with her and all her friends. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. Disneyland is always a blast!”

“You had the cutest little mouse ears too. Man, I can’t remember the last time I went to a theme park.”

“Let’s go together, sometime soon?”

Looking over at her, Adrien blinks and nods again. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Before she can ask him anything else, he points to the other side of her apartment. “That’s your studio, right? In there?”

Marinette finds his line of sight and nods. “Yep! I work on my custom things here. My more day to day designs I do at the shop.”

Adrien stops and stares. “Wait, so you’re telling me you also sew all your pieces yourself at your shop?”

Marinette beams, pride warm in her heart. “Mmhmm! I have a seamstress too, but between the two of us, we sew most of the designs. For more complicated ones, like with a lot beading, I’ll hire a few extra hands for a few weekends and we’ll all knock them out. It’s fun that way.”

“Please tell me you’re marketing that you’re making everything by hand in house,” he begs.

“Haha, yes, I do,” she says.

Adrien puts a hand over his heart. “Thank you, Jesus,” he whispers.

Marinette shrugs bashfully and continues. “I also have an online store and get a lot of business from overseas. The boutique is doing well. That and commissions I do and the contests I win from time to time.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was doing well.”

Her husband regards her for a moment, the glint in his eye indescribable. Then suddenly, he sweeps across the room and places his hands on her shoulders. “I married such an incredible woman,” Adrien says and then kisses her forehead.

Her heart stops in her chest, the warmth from his lips causing her to blush from the head to toe. She peers up at him, face hot and red as he strokes her cheek again. “Thank you,” she mumbles. Embarrassed, she pulls away from him and opens up her studio, proud that she put everything in place earlier.

Adrien walks in after her. “Oh, it’s empty…” he laments.

Marinette fingers a drawer of beads. “Sorry. My last big project was my wedding dress and I haven’t started a new one yet. But, I’d like your opinion when I start it.”

A pair of arms circle her and Adrien rests his chin on her shoulder. “You know, that’s what I miss the most about my dad—when he was designing, it was one of the few times you got to see him out of sorts. I wasn’t ever allowed in his workroom, but sometimes if I was up late studying and he was working, I’d bring him coffee. And sometimes he’d ask my opinion on his designs. Those were the best times.”

The little hum of his voice tickles, reminding her again that she is lucky to know him—lucky enough to learn about him all these years later after being a pining girl. She places a hand atop his and squeezes it.  

“That sounds lovely, Adrien. My dad helps me too. He has an eye for colors when I’m stuck. And hopefully, we can make new memories. You and I, that is—and make a design together too.”  

Adrien nuzzles into her cheek. “You’re the best, you know that? Simply the best. I’d love to design something with you.”

Marinette tries to respond, but she yawns instead.

Adrien looks down at his watch and sighs. “I should get going. You’re sleepy and it’s late.”

“But I’m not sleepy,” she says through another yawn. “I’m a big girl, I swear.”

“Well, even big girls need to get to bed, I’m afraid.”

“You...you could spend the night,” she says, a smile digging into her cheek.

He untangles himself from her. “Ha, tempting, but alas, I have to clean my apartment actually. I got distracted and, well, that’s how I ended up here.

“I’m not complaining. I got sketchbooks and cute videos out of the deal.”

“We’ll still meet at our original time?”

She shakes her head. “No, stay here, Adrien. Please? It’s late,” she pouts. “I’d be worried about my husband. We can meet up again tomorrow afternoon after lunchtime and have dinner at yours when we’re done with apartment hunting.” For one final measure, she takes his hand and leaves a quick kiss.

Adrien shuffles his feet for a moment and hangs his head. “I guess this is a time I should just say you’re right, right?”

Marinette smiles and hugs him. “Yes. And, I want you to know because I’ve been thinking about this since this morning, but,” she starts, “I’ll be fine with whatever apartment you pick. As long as I get to buy the groceries.”

“Wh-what? Marinette, what changed your mind?”

She shrugs and lays her cheek on his chest, playing with his hoodie string. “I don’t know, I guess this wasn’t something worth getting bent out of shape about in the end. I mean, you’re my friend, Adrien and I don’t think my friend would want to hurt me. So, yeah, I’m going to—let go of my pride and let you pay for most things. Minus the groceries and whatever odds and ends we need that are within my budget.”

Adrien squeezes her. “Oh my god, Marinette. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re an amazing wife, you know that?”

“That’s what my husband tells me, at least,” she laughs into his shoulder.

“Your husband is a very smart man, then.”

“Mmhmm. Also, incredibly kind and generous. I’m the lucky one, I think.”

“I don’t know about that…”

She pinches his side. “Well, I do. Now, let’s get to bed. It’s late.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “And if you’re nice to me, I might even tell you sweet dreams.”

Adrien smirks. “Oh, do I get a good night kiss too?”

Marinette looks over her shoulder, mischief sounding in her being and heads to her bedroom. “Maybe.”

To that, Adrien laughs and chases after her. “Marinette, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

--

It’s the sound of quiet talking that wakes Adrien in the morning. Marinette sleeps beside him, her face under a pillow and squished much like a fish. He tries not to laugh when he gets out of bed. He tiptoes to the door and hears indistinct arguing from the kitchen. His eyes go wide when he recognizes one of the voices.

“C’mon, Tikki!” Plagg says, “Find me the cheese!”

Ever carefully, he enters Marinette’s living and kitchen and shuts the door behind him. He remembers to count to five before he strangles the little god, but even that seems impossible.

Plagg floats carelessly and in plain sight in Marinette’s apartment, as if he owns the place, while barking orders at someone. “Cheese, cheese, cheese,” he chants.

The voice from fridge snaps at him. “You lazy bum,” she seethes. “I’m not the one who wants this!”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who knows—” As if sensing Adrien’s rage, Plagg whirls around. “Adrien! Uh, hi! Good morning.”

“What in the world are you doing?”

Plagg purses his lips together and grimaces. “I was hungry and—”

“Found it!” the voice says and out flies another kwami, bright red and cute. In her hands, she carries a thing of camembert, but pauses when she sees Adrien. “Oh, hello. You must be Adrien. I’ve heard a lot about you.”   

Adrien tilts his head to the side. “Uh, yes. And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Tikki! I’m Ladybug’s kwami!” Her grin wide and bright.

“L-Ladybug’s?”

“Mmhmm. But she’s, uh, sleeping right now and I—mmm—wanted to see Plagg since it’s been a long, long time.”

To that, Plagg jumps in. “Yeah! Tikki here was just visiting me since she missed me and all that! Since you know. That’s the only reason why Ladybug’s kwami would be, uh, here with us. In this particular apartment.”

“You invited Ladybug’s kwami to Marinette’s apartment? The apartment that I don’t own?”

Plagg rolls his eyes. “Look here, newlywed. I didn’t say I was smart about it. I'm famished and Tikki off—has a knack for finding cheese! So here we are.”

“Yes, so here we are,” Tikki adds, if not a bit too quickly.

Adrien rubs a hand down his face. “It is way too early for this. I need coffee.”

“I could make you coffee!”

Adrien stops, a bit confused but musters a smile anyway. “While I appreciate the gesture, Tikki, you don’t live here.”   

Beside her, Plagg snickers. “Yeah, Tikki. You don’t live here. Not at all. You live with Ladybug and not his wife.”

She blinks and nods. “Yes, yes. You’re right. I don’t live here. Nope, nope. Not with your wife who is definitely not Ladybug.”

“Right,” he says, unsure where to continue with that. Then it hits him. “Tikki, was Ladybug okay last night? You know with me?” he asks timidly.

Tikki’s eyes widen in surprise before she flies up to his face, placing a little nub on his cheek. “Ladybug loves you, Adrien. And she’s already forgiven you or you wouldn’t be standing right now. Trust me.”

He nervously laughs, placing a hand at the base of his neck. “Y-yeah….if Ladybug was pissed, I would be dead now.”

Tikki hums. “Exactly, I mean, she had plenty of time to think about it, but look! Here you are! Not dead and going to live another day.”

“Yay…” he says weakly.

In the bedroom, an alarm goes off. Tikki sighs and then places a kiss on Adrien’s cheek. “I best be going now. Welcome home, Chat Noir. You have no idea how happy we are to have you back.”

He puts a hand to his cheek. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Tikki giggles before glaring at Plagg. “See you soon. And make sure you clean up after yourself! Since you definitely don’t live here.”

Plagg sticks out his tongue. “Yeah, yeah. Get out here and scurry back to your Ladybug.”

Tikki takes a deep breath. “Bye-bye, Adrien. It was lovely meeting you. Hope to see you again!” And with that, she’s gone.

Plagg munches on his cheese, pleased with his food.

Adrien decides to break the silence between them. “So what did you do to Tikki to get her so upset.”

Plagg waves his little nub. “Eh, she’s sour because I’m gonna win a bet again. And no, I can’t tell you and I won’t tell you. Now, get in there and wake up your wife, pal. We got places to be today!”

--

Ladybug softly lands in the park, hearing hollering hellos from citizens as she scans her surroundings. Not too far, she notices Chat Noir playing with some children and grins to herself. He must feel her stare because he looks up and beams and makes his way towards her.

“People are a lot happier to see me than I expected,” he says when he ends up at her side.

Ladybug shrugs. “Well, they love you. I’m glad we tweeted we’d be at the park before anyone had a chance to come up with something crazy.”

Chat Noir hums in agreement. “So, is this what you do these days? Just chat with the people and hang out.”

“Yeah, pretty much. We decided as long as there is no supernatural stuff then I don’t need to help fight day to day crime. Though, I do come out if there’s something huge—like an invasion or something.”

“Oh my god, has Paris been invaded?”

Ladybug snorts. “No, Chat. We have never been invaded that’s silly. Besides, if we had, the Ladyblog would have been all over that.”

“Is that still a thing? The Ladyblog?”

Ladybug is about to reply when a very familiar voice interrupts.

“Why, yes, Chat Noir,” Alya says, smug and proud. “The Ladyblog is very much still a thing. Good to see you, you mangy cat.”

At her side, Nino throws a casual thumbs-up. “Hey, dude. It’s been a minute. Welcome back to Paris.”

Chat Noir blushes and scuffs his boot in the dirt. “Hey, guys. Good to see you too. I’ve…I’ve moved back to the area.”  

Alya taps something in on her cellphone, refusing to tear her eyes away from the screen. “So we’ve noticed.” She then holds up her phone with the front facing camera on. “Smile!”

The shutter sound clicks and Alya seems pleased it the photo as she posts it to the web. “#welcomeback. #Reunitedanditfeelsogood. #ParishasTWOsuperheroes. #checkoutthishandsometomcat. #...”

“Alya, babe, I think that’s enough hashtags,” Nino says.

His girlfriend scoffs and uploads the photo. “No such thing as too many hashtags, babe,” she says. Then her attention snaps back to Chat Noir and Ladybug swears she hears him gulp. “Now, care comment what you’ve been up all these years? What’s the real reason you’re back. The Ladyblog wants the scoop!”

Marinette’s heart swoons with affection, never tiring how passionate her best friend takes journalism. All these years later and she’s still Ladybug’s number one fan too. But no love can allow Chat to be eaten alive by the best reporter in all of Paris.

“Alya, give us some time to figure out what we want to tell the public. When we’re ready to announce, you’ll get our first exclusive.”

Marinette can see it takes all of Alya’s willpower not to pout, but somehow she manages. “Fine. I guess,” she says, her lips pursed together. She sighs and then smiles, looking fondly at Chat Noir. “I really am glad you’re back though. The city’s missed you!”

There’s a long pause, as Chat Noir doesn’t say anything, his eyes to the sky. His face is pale, as if he’s seen a ghost. Ladybug tilts her head to the sky, not understanding his refusal to respond.

“Chat? Are you okay? What are you looking at?”  

Chat Noir points upwards. “That.”

Ladybug follows his hand and her mouth drops. “Are those...are those what I think they are?”

“Yeah,” he swallows audibly. “Butterflies.”

In the background, people start to cry in terror as Alya begins recording a live stream. “Breaking news, Paris! As you can see above me, we have a swarm of black butterflies that look exactly like Akuma? Does that mean that Hawk Moth is back?”

Ladybug drowns out her friend’s voice, unable to shake the feeling of dread that sticks to her ribs. Her partner’s body vibrates with tension, with energy that needs an outlet. A part of her wonders if he knows who it is, but no—his fury is mixed with confusion. He’s just as surprised as the rest of Paris.  

With the flapping of black butterfly wings, Ladybug says the only thing that seems appropriate.

“Fuck.”  

--

Thank you so much for reading! I know it’s been a long time since I updated, but know that I haven’t forgotten this story at all. I know I have been very busy this last year, but that’s okay. I’m building, I’ve written two drafts of a poetry collection, and my mom is cancer free since July 2018!! Either way, I write because it makes me happy and my writing makes you guys even happier. So, again, thank you! 

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