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Chat Noir's helpless when it comes to Marinette.

my tellonym: milkisande

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cat got your tongue

we can try that,
you and me.

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IF there was one thing to be known about Chat Noir, it would be that he's rarely ever left speechless.

Always armed with some witty remark, joke, or flirty comment (though those were really just reserved for his lady), Chat took pride in his superhero persona always knowing the perfect things to say at the perfect moment.

But that didn't quite seem to apply whenever he was around a certain blue-haired girl.

He gulped as Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood in front of him, eyes looking up to meet his own, a thoughtful and confused look on her face. One of her eyebrows were raised in anticipation, arms crossed as she (not-so) patiently waited for him to speak.

He knew what he wanted to say:

I like you. You're ameowzing and I think we'll be purrfect together. (Apparently he couldn't quite shake off his penchant for puns even in times when they seemed to be a little less than appropriate.)

Irregardless, even when his mind knew what to say, the rest of his body refused to cooperate.

Chat Noir nervously twiddled his fingers together, only to notice how moist they were.

Oh.

Was he sweating?

To his horror, the hero felt his palms get clammy and shake.

He didn't do that.

He didn't get nervous.

He was Chat Noir— the goofy, teasing, and (arguably over-) confident hero of Paris.

He wasn't Chat Noir— the blushing and stuttering awkward mess of a boy when it came to his crush.

It was strange, really: he had no qualms about flirting with and wooing Ladybug before.

But when he came to find out who the girl was behind the mask, Chat Noir found himself struggling to even say a single word.

"Chat?" She finally asked, after the silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

"I, uh—," the hero faltered as he attempted to form a sentence.

He looked straight at her. Beautiful. "I have to tell you something."

Marinette raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "I know," she responded. "You told me earlier. What you haven't told me was what."

"Ah, yeah." He gulped (really, how thirsty was he?). "It's about… us."

"Us?" Marinette asked, her lips tilting upward. "There's an us?"

She was teasing him, he knew it.

But he found that he couldn't tease her back at all.

Chat Noir looked away, an evident blush on his cheeks.

"I mean… yes— that is, if you want to, I'd be all too happy to…"

"Happy to… what?" Marinette asked, eyes twinkling.

She wanted him to say it.

He wanted to say it too: he really did.

To say the words that they both knew were coming, but that he, for the life of him, just couldn't get out.

"What I'm trying to say is…"

"Is…" Marinette echoed, urging him to continue speaking.

But he faltered.

Again.

Marinette exhaled, a deep breath, upon noticing that he wasn't going to say anything.

She smirked, then leaned close to him, faces only a few milimeters away from each other. "What?" She asked, catching the sudden hike in the hero's heart rate. "Cat got your tongue?"

Chat Noir gulped. He wanted to fight back, make another witty remark:

Something about this cat wanting her tongue…?

He frowned. Definitely not.

Maybe that was a little less romantic, and more… creepy.

Instead, he resignedly nodded.

Maybe it wasn't quite the time for puns and jokes (as much as he wanted it to be).

Maybe he just had to be honest.

"You looked so pretty that it left me speechless."

An honest pause.

Then,

Laughter.

Marinette tried to hold it in, but the soft giggle that escaped her did not go by unnoticed.

Chat Noir turned red. "Never mind I'm just kidding this was just a—"

He rambled on, clearly horrified, before the girl burst into a fit of giggles, shaking her head.

"Chat, you're too cute."

Cute.

She called him cute.

At this point, he was probably the color of a tomato, subconsciously holding up his hands to cover his face— only for Marinette to grab them, intertwining their fingers together.

He looked down at their hands.

They fit together perfectly.

"It's only three words, you know?" Marinette finally spoke, eyes twinkling with mischief and clear entertainment. "Three little words, eight letters, kitty. Think you can handle them?"

He took a deep breath in.

He could do this.

He defeated akumas on a daily basis, this was child's play.

Chat Noir exhaled.

"I love you, Marinette."

She smiled.

"Well technically, that was one word too many so—"

"MARI, PLEASE."

The girl laughed, meeting his gaze with a bright look in her eyes.

"Just kidding, kitty. Come on, not in the mood to joke anymore?"

Noticing his pointed expression, Marinette smiled, before planting a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you too." She finally said, winking, before walking away:

Exactly on time for the hero to explode into the color of her superhero suit.

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end notes—

you can take this as the companion fic to day 04 - thief: aka the return of blushy chat noir! (this time, in his pov:) always a nice change of pace from the typical chat (tho he is also Very Good,, for many reasons!)

im sorry if this was shorter / more generic than usual but i started working again today so there's unfortunately less time to write . ;n; i'm still determined to finish this month with consistent updates though, so don't worry !

thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～