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would you consider writing a christmas themed fic/drabble? and may i say that your writing is absolutely friggin amazing

Thank you so much!!

This is kind of late, I know, but well. It’s still before Christmas, so it counts.

Read on Ao3

Words: 2404, Language: English

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: None

Categories: M/F

Relationships: Adrienette

Additional comments: Post reveal

This drabble was 100% inspired by this amazing work of art by @ming85. Airplanes are apparently good places for me to write fic, as this was also written in the air.

Marinette reaches up, her hand grasping the tile of the roof as firmly as her numb fingers can handle, the icy sting of the tile against her bare hands pushing her to keep her movements quick. She pulls herself up with a small noise of effort, her breath escaping in a white wisp into the air, maneuvering herself so that she’s seated firmly on the rooftop and turning to offer a cold hand to the boy behind her. He takes it gratefully, and the moment their bare hands contact she feels a jolt of electricity surge through her veins. She doesn’t let go, though the urge to pull back and pull away rears its ugly head, but the moment he’s on steady footing she lets his hand drop, not letting the warmth from his hand in hers chase away the numbness in her fingertips.

As she lets go, she watches his face carefully, but Adrien has always been much better at controlling his features than she has. Still, years of practice at reading him allows her to catch the slight flash of regret in his eyes, even if they’re no longer set behind a mask. She watches him for a moment longer, eyes tracing features that were doubly familiar. Watching him is something she thought she would be an expert at by now, but she still sometimes sees the boy and the hero as separate entities. Maybe the information is still too new, but at any moment she can only find one or the other, and she knows that means she can’t really see either. She wants to try though, to see both. She thinks she’s getting there.

He catches her gaze and smiles, and she returns the smile but quickly turns instead to look out over the snowy rooftops. She grabs the mittens tucked in her pocket and absentmindedly slips them back on, rubbing her hands together and burrowing into her scarf in an attempt to conserve her warmth. She can feel him still beside her and then slowly, too slowly and too hesitantly, move closer. She carefully doesn’t react until his side is lined up with her own, and then she leans into his warmth, hating her own tentativeness. But she’s still so unsure, they’re both still so unsure, and so they’re walking on eggshells despite refusing to give up their time together.

They’re quiet for several long moments, looking out over the city which shares their moment of silence. The snow lies upon the rooftops like a sparkling blanket, lulling everything around into a quiet slumber.

Marinette marvels at the situation she has found herself in, sitting on a rooftop above Paris and looking out over the snowed-in city, able to sit in silence and yet still have a smile on her face from the feeling of pure contentment emanating from her chest. Sometimes nerves and hesitation wormed their way in too, but in moments like this they had no place in her heart, which was already so full of something else. Someone else. She has no idea how she got here, but she’s glad.

Well, no. She knows how she got here. Months of suspicions, several confessions from both sides, two weeks of avoidance, two simultaneous cracks in composure, and multiple long nights and longer talks had led them to this point, and as draining and confusing as all of it had been, she won’t forget them. That would be disrespectful to the work they had put in to get to this point.

But they still have more work ahead of them, something both were keenly aware of and intensely avoiding. The conversation of where, exactly, their newest revelations left them was a conversation both were too scared to start. Marinette knows they’re still partners; nothing could ever break them apart at this point. But anything more than that was anyone’s guess.

Adrien pulls Marinette out of her thoughts with a slight nudge, and she turns to look at him with wide eyes, curiosity and attention turned fully on him.

“So,” he starts, and Marinette raises a brow at his dramatic pause, “I brought you here for a reason.”

“Technically, I brought you here,” corrects Marinette, a teasing smile lifting her lips.

“But I suggested an outing. You just chose the location,” responds Adrien with a smile to rival hers.

She waves his rebuttal away with a smirk and he places a hand on his chest, about to announce how deeply hurt he was, but she shoots him a look and he abandons the speech before it’s started. Instead, he sobers up a little, and reaches into the bag he brought to retrieve a box. It’s about the size a shoebox, and Marinette’s eyes light up. She’d noticed the his extra luggage the moment she set eyes on him, but he had refused to explain it until they had reached the rooftop. She looks over it carefully now as he handles it, scanning the sleek black box for any signs of what it held. But all she could see was a slightly squashed red ribbon near the corner.

“Merry Christmas, Marinette,” he says simply as he hands her the gift, and she gasps with delight, the sound visibly punctuated by the small cloud of her breath in the cold air.

“Adrien,” she responds, as if it means thank you. He smiles at her and nods at the gift, and then she’s carefully removing the red bow and opening the box, a bit clumsy with her mittens barring her access to her fingers. The top removes to reveal a light shimmery white fabric, and the moment Marinette sets eyes on it she knows it’s expensive. Her mittens are off in a second and she’s skimming her fingers over the swathes of material, an awed look lighting up her countenance as the silky fabric shimmers at her touch, taking full advantage of the afternoon light.

“I know it’s not much, but I remembered you mentioned that you wanted to make a new dress but didn’t have the money to buy fabric. I thought you’d like this one.”

Marinette looks up from her present, puts the top of the box back on, meets the sheepish eyes of her partner, and doesn’t think. She doesn’t let the hesitations and doubts from the past few weeks even have a chance to cloud her actions. She launches herself at him, throwing her entire body into a hug that sends Adrien scrambling to catch himself, but she only takes a moment to make sure that her present is safe before returning to squeezing the life out of the sweet boy before her.

He makes a surprised sound somewhere between a laugh and a yelp, and then he tentatively wraps his arms around her.

“Does that mean you like it?” he asks with a chuckle.

Marinette nuzzles him, squeezing tighter. “I love it, you silly cat. Why would you even have to ask?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’re hugging me or trying to squeeze me to death,” he responds, and Marinette rolls her eyes even as she lets her grip relax, though she doesn’t let go. She looks up at him, a giddy smile on her face, and as he looks back down at her she can practically hear the words hidden behind his eyes. I care about you, I treasure you, I love you. She might be reading into it too much, but at the moment she can’t convince herself to play it safe. Playing it safe was for times when you can get hurt, and her dear partner would never let that happen. She gives him a blinding smile, her previous hesitations forgotten in the elation of the moment, and settles in his arms before reaching into her own coat to pull out a gift that was much better concealed than his.

“It’s not wrapped yet, but I had a feeling when you called me out on Christmas Eve that I should bring it just in case,” she says as she presents him a blue knit hat with a white puffball at the top. He takes it with a pleased and surprised expression, and leans back slightly so he can hold it in front of him. But the cold of the rooftop and the winter air is seeping through Marinette’s jacket and so she chases his warmth, leaning with him and refusing to let go. The action pulls another laugh from Adrien, but he doesn’t complain. He holds the hat up instead of in front of him to inspect it, so he can look at it in full and still allow Marinette the space she’s claimed on his chest, and he marvels at the craftsmanship. He’s sure that Marinette made it herself, and as he slips his fingers along the edge, feeling the soft material, they find a slight rough patch on the inside edge. He turns the brim of the hat inside out and finds that she’s stitched a paw out of lime green thread, where it would normally be just out of sight. A secret that only the two of them knew. A smile spread across his face.

He puts the hat on, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he squeezes the girl still stealing his body heat. “Thank you, Marinette.”

She glances up and he can see the elation spread through her once she realizes he’s wearing the hat, and it hits him like a freight train. He’s left breathless in the wake of her happiness and he finds it’s a feeling he wouldn’t mind experiencing more often.

She bites her lip and glances down for a moment, but when she looks back up her smile is brimming with confidence. “Adrien, do you like me? Not just Ladybug, but all of me.”

The question seems out of the blue, but beneath her smiling face he detects something very familiar. The determined confidence that always shows up once she’s made a plan. He’s not sure what prompted this conversation, but he nods without hesitation. If he was unsure before, there was no way he could be now. Marinette had captivated him with only a smile and he has no idea how there could ever have been a time when he didn’t notice her. She’s brilliant and he’s as helpless as a moth chasing a flame. But his lady would never let him burn. He’s sure of that.

Marinette waits a moment after he nods, unsure if he’s going to clarify or elaborate, but to him a yes is the obvious answer, and nothing else needs to be said. So she continues, “I like you too, you know. All of you. I’m working on piecing it together, but I already know it’s a beautiful picture.”

He did know that she liked him, or at the very least was figuring it out, but hearing her say it makes his stomach drop and his heart race and his throat dry, and it is the best thing he has ever experienced. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replies, but he’s so enamored that it comes out more reverent than teasing. But he can’t stop his curiosity. “Is there a particular reason you’re bringing this up now?”

“Because it needed to be brought up,” she replies, her sudden burst of confidence still coloring her voice. Her tone takes a coy turn as she continues. “Also, I recently decided that I want to be kissed on a snowy rooftop overlooking Paris. And we needed to establish things before that can be accomplished.”

Adrien finds a blush coloring his cheeks at her straightforward statement, but he sees the same red staining her cheeks, so he’s able to summon Chat’s cockiness for his reply. “And just how recently did you decide that?”

“About a minute ago,” she concedes, and looks up at him with a cheeky grin. Adrien’s blush only deepens when he looks down at her curled against him, looking up at him expectantly. He ignores it and presses on.

“My lady, you should have said something sooner. You’ve had to wait so long!”

“And I’m still waiting. So shut up and kiss me.”

They’re both blushing fiercely despite their banter, and they’re both aware that neither is nearly as confident as they’re pretending to be. But they ignore that in favor of leaning in, letting their eyes flutter closed and their lips finally meet. It’s a chaste kiss, one that barely lasts for more than a few seconds, but Marinette feels giddiness bubble up in her chest and Adrien feels his head spin nonetheless. They pull away from each other but refuse to go too far, and Marinette loses herself just looking at him looking at her.

There are no fireworks to celebrate the momentous occasion, no sudden snow to set the perfect scene, no bolts of lightening to signify the fantastic rarity of the occurrence. Nothing in the world changes and nothing in the world even acknowledges that something has changed, but it doesn’t matter, because the two of them wouldn’t have noticed anyway, too caught up in each other to see the world around them.

Adrien lifts one hand to brush Marinette’s bangs away and she leans into the touch, sighing happily.

“So what’s going to change, now?” he asks lightly. She leans against him, humming thoughtfully as she constructs her response.

“Everything,” she finally says. She pauses, and then adds, “And nothing.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie.”

She laughs, the sound ringing out over the rooftops and he soon joins her, the combined sound of their happiness lighting up their little corner of Paris.

“Fine. Then my only answer is that I don’t know,” she says, and Adrien nods.

“I’ll take that.”

They sit there for a few more moments, wrapped in each other’s warmth and looking out over the Parisian rooftops. The sun reflects off of the snow and makes everything just a little brighter, but the world is quickly fading from bright technicolor to the warmer hues of late afternoon as the sun continues its way across the sky.

Marinette’s happiness envelops her completely, and she wants to say thank you, you’re so important to me, I love you. So she does, the best way she knows how.

“Hey Adrien?”

“Hm?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Adrien pauses, and then presses his lips to her temple as he whispers against her skin, “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

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