Adrien Agreste had fallen for Ladybug when he was just fourteen years old. He would always remember the exact moment it had happened. They were faced with the scariest and biggest threat Paris had ever known. And then, the unsure and timid looking girl he just met squared her shoulders and willingly stood up against the biggest evil they would ever meet.
He spent all his adolescence trying and mostly failing to catch her attention. She was friendly, trustworthy, but elusive. Seemingly enamoured with someone he could never aspire to be.
He was able to watch the girl turn into a young woman, who never ceased to shine brighter than any star. Courageous and caring, determined and responsible. And of course, so beautiful. Ladybug was a hero worth all the attention she received. He’d been helpless to resist his heart pulling him towards the spotted heroine.
But life got in the way. There were battles to be won, decisions to be made. And in the end that same love that burned like a raging fire had simmered into a low steady unwavering flame. Adrien had come to the conclusion that Ladybug might be his soulmate. But not every soulmate had to be a romantic one. And so, he accepted her friendship without question, resolved to be the best friend and partner he could be.
Life pulled him apart from her, hours away into a new and unknown country. It was then that he realized that he did have the courage to rebel. To fight and find his own path. If Chat Noir could defeat Hawkmoth, Adrien Agreste could decide his own future!
He left the comforts of home. It was a bitter fight, and it seemed that bonds were broken forever. But it was the only way he could do it… for now. As long as he lived under the name Agreste, his life would be meticulously planned for him. Adrien just couldn’t live like that anymore.
Thankfully, all that money he earned modelling as a teen was saved into an untouchable bank account. It was a substantial amount, and it helped him as he waded the waters of independence. And with the help of a maternal agent, Adrien found a way to thrive. And even better, after months away from Paris, he found his way back to his soulmate.
His life was simple. He was well on his way to becoming a physics professor. Modelling jobs were short and sporadic, and they helped pad his bank account. He was never forced to take any job, and for that, he was immensely grateful.
Love could wait. He was a romantic at heart and he knew that when he fell in love, it would be completely. He wasn’t in a hurry, and not because of lack of offers. Adrien knew he was a good catch. Good looking, with a decent economic situation… he had no small amount of offers. But he knew that nothing could compare to the torch he held for Ladybug. He knew whoever he could fall in love with would also be a formidable figure, and he wasn't about to rush into that. He had time. He could wait.
And then, just when he thought he had everything worked out. He ran into Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Seeing her again had been a pleasant surprise. He'd been fond of his timid classmate. But actually getting to know her was like a sucker punch he hadn’t expected.
She was courageous and fiercely determined. He already knew Marinette was talented and hardworking. He'd seen that when they were younger. But being on the show, spending time so close to her, gave him a chance get to know her in a way he'd never been able before.
Marinette wasn't shy. She was a force to be reckoned with. Strong and fierce. She knew what she wanted and would work hard to get there. It didn't surprise him to see her in the show. He'd been well aware that her aspirations laid with fashion design.
But there was something else about seeing her in her element. Eyebrows furrowed as she created a design, the serious look on her face as she picked fabrics when they shopped... It was mesmerizing. There was passion in what she did, she embodied it perfectly, and it had taken his breath away.
Of course he'd followed the show almost religiously. He saw the screen captures, the gifs, the edits. There were even Fan videos of the both of them, for crying out loud! But one thing became evident, even Adrien wasn't that oblivious. Marinette was beautiful, without any doubt or question. Big blue eyes, full pink lips, and soft skin dusted with freckles. Strong arms, and a behind that looked absolutely stunning when she wore leggings.
But even more than that. Her personality, it was amazing. A lovely mixture of sweetness and spice... she'd taken the public - and him - in the palm of her hand. And she didn't even know it.
Adrien had been helpless to resist the pull of his feelings for her, and that was even before he knew she was Ladybug. Once those two girls merged into one... he knew he was a goner. It was fate. As if the gods had decided to get everything he could ever wish for in a woman and merge it all into Marinette.
After they found out their secret identities,he couldn't keep away from her. How could he even try? Marinette was his partner, his friend. Seeing her struggle and not being able to do anything about it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.
But they were okay. Thanks to an unlikely ally, Raoul, they were able to talk things through. They were okay.
It was why he didn’t even think twice about going to her, to spend hours texting. Because he craved her company, he wanted to see her laugh at his stupid jokes, even if it was from a distance. If it hadn’t been so risky. If she hadn't had a roommate, he would have dropped right on that balcony for a kiss. Just like he’d meant to do for so long.
He had always been a romantic; he believed in fate, in ‘they lived happily ever after’ . And knowing that she reciprocated his feelings, even if he didn't know to what extent. It was more of a thrill than running over rooftops at neck breaking speeds.
He wasn’t surprised at all, that just after that first kiss, Marinette Dupain-Cheng consumed every little bit of his heart. He was hers, he'd always been. The warmth of her lips against his had just sealed it. It was a nice kiss, of course; if a little clumsy and surprising, but he wasn’t complaining at all.
It was fast and over before he could properly process what had just happened. By the time Marinette had let him go, her skin was flushed as the actual realization of what she'd done hit her. She’d pulled away bashfully, but the look in her eyes promised it wouldn’t be the last.
The second, he saw coming. She was laughing, exhilarated after finishing her show. He could hear the crowd still cheering her and Marinette vibrated with the energy, almost bouncing as she went to him. Her smile was wide and she'd jumped into his arms and kissed him, and this time it was perfect.
She'd laughed and he'd laughed. And it was so silly and so perfect that he would have stayed like that for hours. Her body flush against his as she kissed him over and over again. Soon, she started smiling less, her blue eyes darkening as their proximity began feeling like more. He’d half a mind to push her against the wall and keep at it. But the room was filled with people and there were cameras. It was not the best place to start a full on makeout session.
They'd stayed together after that. Just around each other as they were carted off towards the studio. The judges would have to make their decision and then, everything would be over. They'd go back to their normal lives... or as normal as it could be after an experience like this.
And then, the deliberation was over. Raoul was the winner of the first season of Project Runway and Marinette was the runner up. She'd lost.
He was disappointed too. The minute she stepped back into the waiting room, her eyes were glimmering with frustrated tears, his heart broke for her. Tom and Sabine went to her first and he dutifully waited for his turn. He knew she’d wanted this for so long, and to be so close… it had to be heartbreaking.
But Raoul had won, and even in her disappointment, Marinette’s joy for her friend was real and honest.
Back at the studio, everything is dying down. The host and judges have left the premises, and were probably getting ready for one of the many after parties in Paris. Fashion week was serious business. It was gonna be the event of the year, that was for sure.
Adrien holds Marinette as they make small chatter with her parents. Sabine speaks first. "I'm sure there are more exciting things than just talking to us here." She smiles and motions at them. "Go! You're young, have fun!"
As if on cue, "After party at Le Raspoutine!" Camille holds up her tablet as she taps some more information in. "I have you both on the list, remember. Dress sharp!" Camille walks away but turns swiftly on her heel. "Do you have transportation? If not, I need to arrange a car for you."
Sabine gives them a knowing look. "Go party. You both deserve to unwind."
"Be careful, and be home for saturday dinner. I need to get to know this young man."
Adrien gulps. Despite everything, Tom is an imposing man. He could definitely hurt him if he so desired.
Marinette is unphased. "Papa! Behave!"
Tom laughs and holds his hands up. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" he says, his smile warm as he regards Adrien. "I meant the dinner though. I'd love to meet the man who finally stole my little girl's heart."
Adrien's smile broadens as the Dupain-Chengs finally take their leave. He barely just met them and he already feels a part of the family. It's a novel feeling and it makes him smile even more.
He's distracted when Marinette asks him. "Do you want to go to the Party?" It's been a long day and no one could blame them if they skipped it.
"Do you?" he asks in return. He wouldn't blame her if she skips it. It's been a long day, filled with emotions. He's curious about the party, but he also wants to just relax and unwind.
She bites her lower lip, pondering for a second. "I want to congratulate Raoul without cameras," she tells him and turns to Camille. "We'll take the car. From the hotel?"
"Got it." Camille saluted at the duo. "They'll call you when they're out. Have fun!" Camille mixes in with the rest of the crew and disappears from view. There's a lot of work to be done, disassembling the stage to ensure everything goes back to normal.
“What's the plan then?" he asks. He's still wearing the suit Marinette made, and while it fits him just right, he knows it's not the most appropriate outfit for the club. Neither is his simple jeans and shirt he wore when he arrived at the studio. Raspoutine will be crawling with photographers and celebrities dressed to the nines. Camille hadn't been joking when she told them to dress sharp. "I'll probably need to go change."
“Mhmm.” She bites her lower lip, blue eyes thoughtful as she ponders her next plan of action. “I’ll just need to go back to the hotel and change. I need a shower too.”
That settles it. “I’ll go change and wait for you at the lobby,” he tells her, smiling when she nods. "I'll see you later." He kisses her briefly, just a mere brush of lips because it seems like he can. And then he leaves.
Production had given Marinette a car to attend the after party. The black town car reminds him of his earlier life. Unneeded limousines and over the top luxuries. But then again, Fashion Week was all about glitz glamour. But one look at Marinette and he forgets all about that. She deserves the luxury.
Marinette wears dark red heels, which make her shapely legs look longer than ever, and a closed trench coat covering her outfit. The coat seems light, barely enough to ward off the chill of the night but it cinches at her waist and he's curious about what's underneath. She holds a clutch purse in her hand, and he knows both Tikki and Plagg are comfortably nesting inside of it. "I'm ready!" she says when she sees him, her ruby red lips broadening in a smile.
"My lady." He offers his arm to her, smile bright as hers as he leads her onto the awaiting car.
Marinette looks out the window, and her hand brushes against his on the arm rest. But soon enough, the car stops outside of Le Raspoutine, the venue for the party. He can see just how many people gathered outside. Either for a chance to beg their way into the exclusive party or just to snap a picture with their prefered celebrities.
“Are you ready?” he asks, hand on the door handle ready to open.
She nods, apparently too nervous to say anything else, and Adrien opens the door. The attention shifts immediately towards them, as people try to see into the car. Photographers ready their cameras, ready to start clicking should they be deemed interesting enough. He steps out and the cameras begin snapping right away.
The flashes of light are almost second nature to him so he pays them no mind. Adrien’s been in the public eye since he was a teenager, after all. He hold his hand out to Marinette and helps her out of the car, and the pictures only increase.
"Marinette! Adrien! Over here!" The photographers shout and Marinette's hand tightens its hold on his.
“Oh wow,” she mutters, as camera flashes in their directions. They need to get that perfect shot, and they're not shy about asking for a better angle for their pictures. She freezes for a second, and Adrien places a hand on the small of her back to start leading her through the craziness.
Adrien is used to this nonsense. She’s not. The show had succeeded in keeping her hidden and well protected while they filmed. After all, secrecy was important for their ratings. But the show is over, and that meant that it was open season for Marinette. Whether she liked it or not, Marinette was one of the newest faces in show business. There would be flashes of cameras and requests for interviews.
“Come on,” he whispers into her ear and he can see how the flashes increase as they attempt to snap the intimate gesture. His hand is firm against her waist, he tugs her along and they make their way through. They pose for pictures, of course, it’s what they have to do in situations like these. After the first few pictures Marinette relaxes. He can see it in her smile and in the way she leans closer to him. They only stay for a few seconds and are quickly waved into the Club.
Adrien has never set foot inside this club, but he knows its reputation. It’s one of the most exclusive hotspots in Paris. The kind of place where the bouncers would hand pick whoever got to enter the exclusive venue. And tonight, they were among the chosen ones.
Once inside, he realizes just why it is so exclusive. The former russian restaurant had morphed into a luxurious nightclub. The decoration is russian inspired with over the top glamour. The architecture is grandiose. Stained-glass panels, rich wooden ceilings and red velvet surrounding them from walls to floor. It is definitely impressive.
They pose for the official pictures and after going through the motions they’re finally left to their own decides.
“This is… insane!" Marinette exclaims, still holding on to Adrien’s arm as they finally enter the main area. It’s already packed with people. Some minor celebrities, but he can see some hollywood actors already settled at some of the VIP booths.
He agrees. It’s a bit over the top even by his standards. Then again, his father never let him attend these kinds of parties. “Let’s check our jackets.” They follow another attendant towards the coat check room. He slips off his leather jacket, leaving him in just a button dress shirt and dress pants. Marinette does the same, unwrapping her coat from her body and Adrien can finally see just what’s she wearing tonight.
It was at that precise moment that Adrien realized he was fucked.
He knows Marinette’s fashion style is on point. He’s familiar with several dresses she’d made. After all, he saw her model several of the dresses she made for her own collection in the comfort of her room. But the strapless little number he sees once she checks in the jacket is dangerous. It's enough to raise his blood pressure to considerable numbers. The dress reaches just an inch below her knee, playing at a hint of demure charm. But the slit on the skirt inches dangerously up her thigh and it gives him ideas. Her shoulders and collarbones, gloriously exposed, save from that… oh God, was that a tiny golden bell dangling from her neck? It’s just the final nail on his coffin.
“You look good,” he finally stammers out. It’s an understatement.
Her smile is coy. “Thank you. I made it.”
She made it but had kept it a secret during all of his visits. He feels the need to comment on this, but the glint in her eyes is dangerous and proud. Adrien realizes once more. Yup. He’s fucked .
He’s saved, by the arrival of Raoul and his two partners, Charlie and Mar.
Charlie is a vivacious brunette who's looking taller than both her boyfriend in sky high heels. She wraps her arms around them, a bright smile on her face as she approaches them. Mar is slightly shorter than Raoul, with tan skin and dark hair. He's quieter, but his when he smiles it's absolutely blinding.
They were incredibly good looking. Adrien can’t help but wonder what are the odds of three people that hot ever finding each other and falling so perfectly in love.
“You’re here!” Raoul greets them both with a hug, clearly still riding the high of his win. Seconds later, Charlie and Mar approach them. Adrien's seen them at the studio, but with the hectic running around they'd yet to be formally introduced.
Raoul seems set on fixing that. “Alright! Oficial greeting time. Mar, Charlie, this is Marinette, the little lady and her man, Adrien." Raoul pointedly ignores Marinette’s flustered expression and continues. “ Lovebirds, this is Marcelo and my beautiful lady Charlotte. Or, you know. Charlie and Mar.” Raoul takes special care to roll his R's properly as he says their full names.
"Nice to meet you!" Mar says, and greets both of them with an enthusiastic hug.
"Finally!" Charlie grins at at Marinette. "I've heard so much about you! It's like I know you already!"
It’s obvious that neither Mar nor Charlie were from France, judging by their accents. Charlie punches Raoul softly on his arm, and he only gives her a loving look. Mar seems quieter and just watches their interaction with endearing amusement.
“Your collection was brilliant! I loved that purple dress so muuch!" Charlie tells Marinette, squeezing the young designer's hand, "You're so great-" Charlie pauses, taking a second to appreciate the dress Marinette has on now. "And, god damn , you look smoking hot. You have to get that dress on a store. It'd fly off the racks!”
Adrien agrees wholeheartedly. Marinette just blushes.
“You’re very talented,” Mar agrees, flashing a charming smile at both Adrien and Marinette. “It's nice to finally meet you both!”
“Did you guys settle in Paris already?” Marinette asks, and Charlie nods.
“Kind of?” Charlie flashes a sheepish grin at Raoul, who rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “We need to get settled in, but all our stuff is finally here.”
“I’ll invite you guys over when it finally looks like a home,” Raoul deadpans. He waves his hands in mock despair. “No one does anything unless I’m there!” Raoul complains, rolling his eyes at his supposed misery. Adrien smiles, because even without knowing the other two, or even Raoul that well, he can see the love radiating from Raoul. He's happy.
“ Amor . We should get some drinks. You guys want something?” Raoul asks the group and after a few seconds, he and Mar turn away to head on on their new mission.
Charlie calls out to them, begging for a particular kind of drink, before turning her attention to Marinette. “Babe,” Charlie speaks to Marinette, who seems surprised at the over familiarity but says nothing. Charlie’s good natured, a bit brash, perhaps, but in a nice way. It's easy to feel at ease with her. “You need an agent. Someone who’ll field interviews for you.”
“I don’t think so…” Marinette chuckles, dismissing the comment as a joke. But the look on Charlie's face is dead serious. “I don’t think I’ll need one?”
“Oh trust me, your phone will start ringing soon enough. You’ll need someone who’ll book your interviews, TV appearances, all that.” Charlie nods towards Adrien. “I bet he has one.”
Marinette turns to him, questioning apparent in her eyes. Adrien nods in agreement with Charlie. “I have a agent. She screens the offers, and sends me the ones she knows I’m more likely to take. I review them and if I like them, I sign on.” It was how he got on Project Runway, after all.
“Oh.” She looks overwhelmed for a second. It was clear that the thought had never occurred to her.
“It’s a good thing. You gave your career a great jumpstart,” Charlie says. “I’ll tell Ro to give you a list of people. Trust me, I have done research!”
Adrien slips his hand on her waist, tugging her softly to his side. “You don’t have to worry about that now.”
“Oh yeah, Sorry!" Charlie's smile is sheepish, but she reaches for Marinette’s hand. “We should totally get together to talk. We live in Paris now, it'll be fun!"
“Here comes the alcohol.” Raoul and Mar pass some glasses to everyone. “I didn’t know what to get, so everyone gets vodka.”
Adrien takes his glass, the clear liquid swirling in his glass. “Thanks!” he says. The group hold their glass up.
“Salute!” Raoul says, “To a great friendship!”
They down their drink quickly. The alcohol burns down his throat, but it's a welcome warmth which spreads through his limbs. He feels more relaxed already.
Charlie seems restless. “Babes. I want to dance!” And with that, Raoul disappears with both Mar and Charlie into the dance floor, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone.
The club is full, and the music is blaring loudly as they wait for the first DJ to take his spin. “I think your phone buzzed,” he says, after feeling the vibration coming from her clutch by his leg. It was either that, or it meant that Plagg and Tikki were up to no good. In any case, it’s worth checking out.
“Oh!” Marinette takes the phone out, thoughtfully scanning over the email on her screen. Suddenly, she gasps and reads again, brow furrowed in concentration “Is… is this legit?” She holds up the screen to Adrien.
He scans over the email. It’s from an agent, about commissioning a dress for a prestigious award ceremony. He glances at the email address. “Legit,” he says, scrolling past the rest of the email. “That domain is an agency in LA. My agent does deals with them from time to time.”
Marinette's eyes widen almost to a comical degree. “I think I’m going to faint.”
It’s a joke, he knows it. But he places his hand on her waist and she leans into him all the same. “I’ve got you.”
Her smile is bashful and he can’t help but reciprocate. “Thank you,” she says and laces his finger with hers. All of a sudden, the music gets almost unbearably loud. The DJ started his set.
Marinette steps near his ear to speak, “We should get away from the speakers!”
He nods in agreement and takes her hand. They walk through the crowd, passing by models and actors and people with a bigger net worth than what his father probably had. The music's loud and it's almost uncomfortable, so he motions to Marinette. It takes a few minutes of walking, maneuvering through the crowd, but they find a small nook by a high table.
The music is still too loud for them to talk, but they can try.
He leans in, to ask Marinette if she wants to find a place with seats. But then someone bumps into him, and Adrien loses his balance. He would have crashed into Marinette, possibly dumping his drink all over that pretty dress. But he manages to brace himself against the wall behind her. So he doesn't trip, Marinette seems okay, but the rest of drink is gone, spilling on the ground.
“You okay?” he says, but he’s almost sure she can’t hear him. How could she? The music is insanely loud and Adrien can feel the bass thrumming through his chest. And this was after they moved away from the speakers.
She nods and bites her lower lip, white teeth pressing against ruby red lips. His eyes are drawn to the motion. He doesn’t miss the way she's standing up to full height. She’s not hiding from him. Sure, Marinette’s still shorter than he is, even with the heels she has on for tonight. But the added inches her shoes give her bring her at just the perfect height. He just has to lean in and he could kiss her.
Her eyes are opened wide, expectant. She's gauging his expression as well, trying to figure out whether he'll initiate this time. And so, he finally makes the decision.
Their kiss is soft, barely a brush of lips. It has none of the urgency of the kisses before. There is no nervous laughter, no need to hide from cameras. Still, he feels a surge of energy that spreads through his whole body.
There’s just electricity between them and a feeling of inevitability. He pulls apart to make sure she’s okay with this, but her hand is on his jaw and she pulls him in again. His Lady has always been more determined than he is.
That doesn't mean he shies away. His hand cup the side of her face and he feels her melt against him. Marinette's hands move to his neck and one finger traces idle patterns against the nape of his neck.
He feels goosebumps as her cool fingers leave a heated trail against his skin. She nips at his lower lip and he feels a rumble in the middle of his chest. “Mari,” he groans. He knows she can’t hear him, but she seems to understand and it’s enough for now, and her lips meet his again.
He’s under her spell now. Her lips part for him to explore and soon his tongue passes over hers and their kiss deepens even more. He feels her moan, a soft vibration against his lips that he just drinks in as he presses himself closer. His body presses her completely against the wall. She tastes sweet, cherries and a hint of vodka and it’s even more intoxicating coming from her.
He’s loved her for so long, he’s wanted her for so long. Feeling her body flush against him, her lips melding perfectly against his, demanding more... makes him more light headed than any type of alcohol ever could.
Adrien’s hand delves through tousled black hair before he lets them trail down the sides of her face. His places his finger under her jaw, tilting her face to the side so he can get a better angle at her and she surrenders into him. Her hands are on his chest, tracing a smooth path up towards his shoulders. He wonders if she can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. He feels full, happy, and he doesn't want to part from her.
He wishes the music wasn’t so loud, he wishes he could hear her . Her sighs, her moans, because even if Adrien can’t hear anything other than the thundering music which surrounds them,he feels them. Soft pants against his lips as they break away to catch their breath, only to fall into each other all over again. Her lips are soft, so soft and her tongue is adventurous, pushing past his lips and coaxing out a loud moan from him.
Despite all he wants, he knows he needs to break away from her. For a second. The need for air is the only thing that rivals his need for her. The need to stay as close to her as possible. But if he doesn’t breathe in some oxygen soon, he might pass out.
He separates from her, but he can't bear to let go of her. His arms press her close to his body and she pushes herself closer, breasts pressed against his chest. He couldn't help but wonder, would she stay as close if she knew the thoughts running through his mind right now?
Her fingers trace over his face, touching over his cheek in a featherlike caress. She traces them over his lips, which are still tingling after their kisses and he nips at the pads. Her eyes darken and the look on her face goes straight to his groin. It’s not a look he’s ever seen on her. Parted lips and eyes darkened with want. But it's not only that, she wants him and he can see it in her face. The realization is his undoing.
He presses her against the wall, one of his legs wedges between hers as he starts tracing soft kisses alongside her jaw. “You’re killing me,” he says against her ear, unsure if he can hear him over the loud music.
“Good.” Marinette chuckles, and Adrien nips against her neck. She gasps and her fingers tighten against his hair. She moans, and he’s able to hear her this time. She's right against his ear and he can feel the vibration as he suckles at her throat.
She is going to be the death of him and if this is the way he’s going to die, he accepts it fully.
His lips hover over hers, breaths mingling as he lets his hands wander down from her waist. He knows he should care more. They are in a public place, a crowded club. But it’s filled with celebrities drinking and partying. Surely their moment isn’t important enough to warrant that much attention. Especially over some supermodel who was so obviously giving a lapdance to a married A list actor.
Adrien’s hand traces down the curve of her hip, feeling the smooth fabric under his fingers. If he had any working neurones left, he’d think how flawless the fitting is, on how seamless it appears to be. But said dress is clinging to the body of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the thoughts this dress evokes are far from harmless.
The tip of his finger traces the uncovered sliver of skin on her thigh and Marinette’s breath hitches. She keeps her eyes on him, daring him to go further, even as her blush deepens. It's hypnotizing, her skin goes pink down her face and the color spreads past her collar bones and under the cleavage of her dress. But that sliver of thigh calls to him, and it's right there for his taking.
He indulges, and his fingers sneak under the fabric. He feels the smooth skin of her thigh for a second before he withdraws. He’s tempted to keep at it, just feel around under the fabric. To hike that leg over his hip and grind into her heat with lecherous abandon. But he still has a shred of self control and he’s clinging to it. Barely.
“Adrien,” Marinette’s fingers hook over his belt loops and she pulls him closer. He’s hard against her leg, and he should be more careful. They're teetering the edge of what's proper here. But her hands cling to him, pulling him closer and her warmth against him is maddening. She sways her hips, almost experimentally, and his eyes flutter closed for a second. Her smile is devious and she pulls him in again grinding her hip against his hardness.
“Marinette,” he warns her, or better said, tries to . It’s difficult to sound threatening. Especially when every time she (purposefully) brushed against him was enough to make him lose any grasp in reality. Marinete licks her lips and dear god, this woman is going to end him.
She’s about to say something, but he captures her lips in his again. It’s not new by now, but the renewed fervor makes her gasp. Good. His tongue pushes past her lips and it tangles with hers. He moans against her lips and Marinette clings tighter to him, swaying against his body. After a few seconds, she withdraws completely to bite his lower lip, before her lips attack his again. It's not gentle. It's a desperate and possessive kind of kiss. Her hands run down his shoulders and over his arms. She pushes them down from her waist, wordlessly permitting him to go where he wanted so badly.
Emboldened, he lets his hands roam. Over her hips, the small of her back, even daring to go back and finally over her ass. It had been prominently featured in his dreams since the first time he saw her wear those damned yoga pants. He pulls her in, so she can feel what she’s doing to him, how hard he is because of her, for her. She gasps against his lips and bites on his lower lip, before soothing the playful nip with a sensuous lick.
His hips buck against her and Adrien pulls apart from her. Marinette looks at him with dazed eyes and parted lips.
She swallows and leans forward, to speak by his ear, “We should...” She pauses to catch her breath. Her voice is hoarser than before, and it makes him even harder than he should be in public. She sounds wrecked and it makes him prouder than he should be. "We should probably...not do this here .” She finishes speaking by placing a kiss against his jaw, followed by a playful lick.
Not here. Adrien looks at Marinette, who bites her lower lip and stares up at him with expectant blue eyes as she leans back against the wall. This is actually happening, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, and all of a sudden he’s more nervous than he can ever remember being.
But he also knows that they’re toeing the line of public decency. Leaving is probably in their best interests.
His fingers trail across her exposed shoulders, and he lifts the golden bell dangling from her neck. Her eyes glint at his movement, and he doesn’t doubt she chose the jewelry on purpose. “My place?” His voice sounds lower and hoarser than he can ever remember it being. He doesn’t miss the way she shudders when he speaks against her ear.
Her answer is short but certain. “Yes.”
In which they reach his house. Barely.
Marinette’s early collection had featured several designs that were scrapped even before leaving the house to go shopping for fabric. Scrapped before she'd even colored the sketch books. But not this dress. The Black Dress ™. But not this dress. Despite the fact that it didn’t fit the aesthetic she was looking for, Marinette couldn’t find it in her heart to toss it aside. It had nothing to do with the flowing silky dresses she'd created, the ones that had gotten her so much praise during the show. It haunted her.
It was slick. Sexy. And everything Marinette rarely allowed herself to be.
She had to make it.
She’d spent almost ten minutes at the store, just feeling the black fabric between her fingers. Feeling how soft it felt and just picturing how the dress would look. So she bought it. The Dress ™ was a little side project , tailored to her own measurements. It was a guilty pleasure of hers, to spend time on something when he had so much work to do. But looking at herself wearing that dress gave her a thrill she couldn’t quite explain. Adrien never got to see it, of course.
Because perhaps, she had thought, she could wear it on the show. She would walk out and wave at the audience looking sexy and confident. But that idea was scrapped soon enough. The cut was too sexy and everything backstage was far too hectic for her to wear this dress and not have a wardrobe malfunction. It would take one second of bending over to fix a hemline and her boobs would pop right out. It was not a good idea.
But… there was an After Party .
After going back to the hotel, Marinette showers quickly, feeling her muscles relax as warm water slides down her body. After that, she got ready. Legs shaved, soft and moisturized (with the expensive lotion, too). A few spritzes of her favorite perfume and then it was time to make The Choice.
There are two dresses on her bed. One is beautiful. Soft pink, vaguely vintage inspired, it’s so her that it almost makes her wrinkle her nose. Right beside it… The Dress ™ .
There’s no longer a question in her mind as she slips it on. The zipper goes up without much of a struggle and she’s done. Marinette stands in front of the mirror and admires herself. The dress fits her like a glove, form fitting and absolutely unforgiving. It accentuates her waist and hips, and well.. her butt looks great in it. The sky high heels probably help a lot in that department. All that, plus her favorite bra, made for a killer outfit.
Marinette feels sexy.
She can’t shake the coy smile on her face as she finishes her hair, tousling it slightly. She paints her lips ruby red and she’s ready to go. Right before leaving the bathroom, she picks up a tiny golden bell necklace and ties it around her neck. It's a tease, she's aware of it. But she's dying to see the look on his face.
She covers herself with a black trench coat, for no reason than to savor the anticipation and she goes downstairs to meet him.
There is a car waiting for her and Adrien joined her as they made their way towards Le Raspoutine.
Everything that happens after that is a sensory overload. From the way his eyes darken once she removes her coat, to the way his lips capture hers in a searing kiss that takes her breath away. To the feel of his body as he pressed her against the wall. He tastes of vodka and something else, something she can't quite identify, but it's intoxicating.
His hand sneaks under the slit on her dress. His fingers are so careful, so soft against her skin and she pants shamelessly. He’s so close to where she wants him the most; but even as turned on as she is, Marinette knows they can’t do this, not here. She pulls him closer, his body flush against hers and she feels him hard against her leg. She sways against him and Adrien hisses, breath catching in his throat. He wants her just as badly.
She wants him. Oh how she wants him.
Marinette wants to be alone with him, to trace over the muscles of his chest and drag her nails down his back. To feel him lose control under her ministrations.
She trails her lips up his jaw. “We should probably...not do this here ,” she says. She’s unable to resist the temptation and kisses his jaw, flicking her tongue against the spot. His breath hitches, and his grip on her hips tighten. It’s a powerful feeling and Marinette wants more.
“My place?” His voice is like nothing she’s ever heard before, gruff and so low and so sexually charged it makes her weak in the knees. Just the prospect of hearing him moan is enough to make her lightheaded. His fingers touch the bell and a secret thrill courses through her body. He noticed.
She doesn’t hesitate when she answers. “Yes.”
He kisses her again and Marinette sinks into him once more. His lips are so soft, but his kiss is searing, almost aggressive and she loves it. She grinds against his hips and he pants against her lips, green eyes narrowed as they gaze into her teasing blue.
His brows furrow together and she knows it’s because of the effect she has on him. He’s barely keeping his cool, and seeing him so flustered and bothered makes her more excited than she dares to admit. “Let’s go,” she says, and he brings out his cellphone, and taps furiously on the screen. A car service lights up his phone and a taxi is quickly heading to their location.
“Car’s out in five minutes.”
It’s enough time for them to get their coats and get out of there before they really start to put on a show .
Adrien places one hand on her waist and directs her through the crowd. It doesn’t escape her that he’s walking behind her, using her as a shield to hide his erection. She can’t help but push back, an impish grin gracing her face as she barely contains her excitement. His fingers tighten against her waist every time she intentionally brushes against him so intimately.
She slips her coat back on. There’s a twinge of regret at covering the dress that she’d so painstakingly made (and which had worked so well). But she knows that it had affected him more than she'd planned, judging by the look on Adrien’s face. His jaw is tight and the expression on his face is serious as he slips on his jacket. He pats his pockets, as if making sure he has everything he needs before looking at her. “Are you ready?”
Is she ever. “Yes.”
She takes his hand and they hurry out and into their awaiting car, paying no mind to the waiting photographers. If someone managed to snap a picture, good for them. Right now Marinette and Adrien have more pressing matters to attend to.
Adrien tells the driver his address, and Marinette can’t help but notice the location. Eighteenth arrondissement, very bohemian place to live. It was a stark contrast with the cool structured life he’d led until his independence.
The car starts moving, and it leads them through a cobblestone path. “Are you sure?” he whispers against her ear and Marinette shivers. She has no doubt that should she ask Adrien to take her straight to her parents’ home, he’d do it without asking. But it’s not what she wants now.
Her finger trails over his jaw, bringing his face close to her. She brushes her lips to his tenderly. “I’m sure.” His arm drapes over her shoulder, pulling her close to his side. Marinette crosses her legs, and the slit on her dress displays a generous amount of skin.
Adrien doesn’t miss it, and he places his hand over the exposed skin. It feels warm, leaving a warm imprint far hotter than it should be. His touch is like fire on her skin and the thought of his hands on her body thrills her. Her thighs rub together in anticipation and snuggles into his side. Her hand rests on his knee, and she dares look up at him.
Adrien is looking straight ahead, as if mentally counting how many minutes they have until they reach his place. Marinette squeezes his knee, her fingers inching higher than they should in such a public setting. She brushes against straining fabric and he tenses. His hand reaches for hers and he laces their fingers together. Marinette is not helping his self control and she’s fully aware of it.
She’s not going to stop either.
Marinette wants to speak, maybe make small talk. But the driver is right there and she feels her voice will crack the minute she says anything. The air is so charged up that she doesn’t trust her voice to speak. But even then, there's so much she wants to say. This isn’t just sex, she wants more. With him? She wants everything.
But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t wants him so bad, her body aches for him. She wants to feel his body on hers and she can’t find the words to say it. She trails the tip of her shoe up his leg, and he turns sharply to look at her. There are no words exchanged between the two of them, but Marinette can see him plotting revenge for getting him this worked up.
The car comes to a stop, in a cobblestone street and Marinette finally sees where Adrien lives. It’s a lovely neighborhood, for sure, filled with small shops that were closed at this time of night. He helps her out of the car, and the car drives away, disappearing into the busy night. Adrien wraps his arms around her, protecting her from the chill of the night as they make their way into the building’s foyer.
They walk towards a vintage looking elevator at the end of the hall. “Elevator,” she says, smiling as the metallic doors open for him. It’s certainly a luxury when it comes to apartments. “Fancy.” She’s joking, of course. It's an older model, well maintained, as is usually the rule, but it’s slow and archaic.
He chuckles, and they step into the elevator. There’s a small bell sound and the door closes and they’re alone. He’s looking at her, and Marinette bites her lower lip. They’re seconds away from his home and this is real.
Marinette isn’t sure who reached first, but his lips are on hers and she feels whole again. They’re alone at last, and there’s no need to hide. Her back hits the wall with a little more force than necessary but neither cares as she gropes around, trying to draw him closer. His hand unabashedly feels her uncovered thigh, hiking her leg over his hip, shamelessly grinding into her.
“Mari,” he moans, and his hands lift her up. She hops up and her legs wrap around his waist, almost out of instinct, and for a minute, she doesn’t care where they are. His tongue slides back into her mouth, and she welcomes him, moaning around him.
“Adrien,” she sighs. His lips, his wonderful lips move down her throat. He started with a teasing gentleness, featherlike caresses against her skin, but her lips buck and he bites and it feels so good. It’ll leave a mark, but she doesn’t care right now. Marinette arches her back, her hips meeting his with every grind-
Ding! The door opens.
They break apart with a startled hiss, and Marinette tries to fix her clothing to at least appear respectable. The last thing she needs is his neighbors getting a wrong impression of her.
But there’s no one out there.
She looks at the empty hallway, confusion evident in her face. Adrien laughs, and pulls her close to him again. “We, uh…” he motions to the button board. There were plenty buttons lit up. They had managed to activate several buttons as they fumbled against the wall. "We might have…” They would be stopping on at least two more floors before they got to his.
Feeling somewhat relieved that they hadn’t crossed the line to exhibitionism just yet, Marinette laughs. Her arms loop around his neck, “Oops.” she grins.
She stands on her toes and kisses him again. This time is different. Their lips meld together, with ease and perfection. But despite the sweetness, it doesn’t lack any ardor. She wants him just as bad, and she feels the evidence of his desire against her hip, hot and hard.
There’s no reason to pause, no hesitation. The door opens and closes again, as the elevator makes its slow way to the top floor and they just don’t care anymore. His hands cup her face and their kiss grows in passion. It’s lovely and most of all loving, but the fire is there, it’s always been there, and it gets stoked with every sigh, every caress.
He tries to be gentle. She tries to be careful. But they are past the point of cautiousness. Not after years of silently pining for one another. Years wasted wanting and wishing and dreaming.
The elevator keeps ascending, so does their intensity. Adrien pulls her with him, and he backs himself against the opposite wall. She molds herself against him, shamelessly straddling one of his legs, grinding against his erection. He groans softly, low in his throat and his arm encircles her body. His tongue glides against hers, tasting her, and her fingers tighten against his hair as she moans. Someone could walk into the elevator right now, and they might not even notice.
Her heart is beating so fast in her chest, Marinette can't quite believe she's still standing. But his arms hold her up so strongly that she doesn't care. His lips are more aggressive, and she’s only too glad to melt against him. “Adrien,” she sighs and his hands slide down her back, gripping her ass and pulling her closer to him.
“Marinette, my lady,” he mutters against her lips and the sound of his voice is intoxicating. His hands feel like they're everywhere, and it only incenses the fire in her.
“How much more till we reach your floor?” she asks, needing to know how long she has to wait until ripping something off of him.
He looks over her shoulder, his hands still firmly over her ass. The doors open and he regretfully lets her go, reaching for her hand. “Come on,” he says, his hand tugging her out of the elevator and through a narrow hallway filled with doors. Her heels clack against the wooden floor and it feels like they echo in the empty hallway. It’s the only sound other than their breathing. The excitement is palpable, electricity crackles in the air and they finally reach his door.
Adrien fumbles with his pockets, searching for the key, and Marinette uses the chance to distract him. She slips between his body and the door and nips at his earlobe. His breath catches for a second and she starts tracing teasing kisses down the side of his throat.
“You’re not helping,” he grits out, but his hand wraps around her all the same.
“I know.” She giggles, and resumes her task at hand. She teases a kiss over his pulse and his eyes close for a second. “Hurry…” she urges, teeth scraping lightly on his skin, fully aware that she’s being no help at all.
He finds his keys, and once they’re in his hand, he presses her fully against the door. She parts her legs and he wedges one of his legs between them as he blindly fumbles with the keyhole. He's far too stubborn to let her go and focus on opening the door properly. She can’t help but be amused at her frustration, but her giggles turn into a low moan when he launches an attack on her lips. There’s no space between them and the sound of moans echo in the empty hallway.
Adrien smirks against her lips, and his free hands tangles in her hair, angling her head for him to kiss her harder, deeper than before, with an urgency and fire Marinette has never ever felt in her life.
Marinette knows they should get themselves inside his apartment, but she refuses to stop kissing him. To stop drawing those moans from his lips as helplessly tries to keep a hold of everything around him.
There’s a click and the door gives behind her. Marinette screams at the sudden loss of balance, but his arms catch her before she can really tumble. The door closes behind them with a slam and they’re submerged in the darkness of his empty apartment.
There’s a small zipping sound that leads into another room, and Marinette knows they’re truly alone now.
Once she regains her footing, Marinette is back in command. Her coat slides off her shoulders with an almost practiced ease. She pushes at Adrien’s jacket until it falls off his shoulders. The garments fall to the ground in a heap and they advance through the apartment, blindly groping at each other.
Adrien picks her up, his hands well placed over her ass and places her on the nearest surface, the table. Marinette wraps her legs around him, drawing him closer to her and her hands reach for him. His hands smooth up her legs, going under the fabric and squeezing the firm flesh of her thighs.
Her pulse is beating fast, and she feels like she's going to faint. Their kiss turns frenzied, almost bruising and consuming. His tongue sweeps against her lips and she parts for him, letting him in. It seems like he’s beyond words right now, groaning against her lips and Marinette’s hand delve into his hair to keep him close.
Their and his moans are the only sounds in the dark apartment, and Marinette feels dizzy. She pulls apart from him, panting to catch her breath and Adrien doesn’t miss a beat, kissing down the smooth line of her throat.
Her legs tighten around him, and she braces a hand against the table, arching her back against him, her breasts pressing against his chest. Her other hand delves in his blond hair, gripping tightly when he sucks on her pulse point. “Oh God!” she moans, eyes fluttering closed, as he keeps his path down south.
Teeth nibble on her collarbone, and his tongue traces over the necklace she’d teasingly chose today. “This was just evil,” he chuckles, and the low rumbling sound resonates all the way to her core.
She bites her lower lip, a useless attempt to hide her proud grin. “I thought cat ears were a little too on the nose, you know?”
Adrien’s eyes darken, “Tease.” He speaks against her shoulder, his lips loving against the soft skin and Marinette smiles.
“Sorry.” She’s not sorry at all.
He knows this, of course, and he takes his revenge biting on the juncture of neck and shoulder. Marinette hisses, and her nails drag down his clothed back in wordless encouragement. Adrien bites and licks at the skin, picking one spot after the other, obviously enjoying her becoming so undone in his arms.
She’s wetter than she can ever remember being, and it’s unfair because he’s barely touched her. She grabs his face and pulls him back to her lips, kissing him with a renewed fervor. Her tongue pushes roughly against the inside of his mouth and he grunts. She sucks his tongue into her mouth, and he pulls on her hips, bringing her closer to the edge to the table and his hips.
Her hand brushes down the front of his pants, and he moves against it. She pulls away, and he almost whines but her legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer to her heat. Her dress is bunched around her waist, fabric rumpled. He’s made a wreck of her carefully orchestrated look and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
He surrenders to her, hands on her hips and pulling her closer as her ankles lock behind his back. Her heels dig against the back of his legs, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. He pushes forward, advancing on her and almost pressing her flat against the table.
She pushes back, one hand braced against the table as she tries to remain upright. Without breaking the kiss, she pulls at his dress shirt, pulling it from where it’s perfectly tucked into his pants. Marinette starts working at the buttons, freeing them and starts kissing over the exposed skin. She sucks, and licks, bites, a perfect pattern that’s mottling his flawless skin. There will be marks, but she doesn't care. She's his and he's hers and she wants him to be able to look at the reminders come next morning.
Adrien grinds his hips harder against her heat. She pants against his neck, her skin feels on fire and they need to do something about it. He seems to get the hint, and Adrien starts tugging at her dress, but to no avail. it’s fitted perfectly to her curves.
“Zipper,” she breathes, and slides off the table to stand on wobbly legs. Adrien turns her around and fumbles to find the tab. Things would be so much easier if they turned on the lights, but that would mean leaving her side, and the excitement of blindly discovering each other bodies in the dark is a new thrill. He finds the metallic tab and drags it slowly down, tracing his fingers down the newly exposed skin.
She shivers at the feeling, and he places an open mouthed kiss against her bare shoulder, the contact so tender and scorching at the same time, Marinette closes her eyes as she braces herself against the table.
Soon, he reaches the end of the line, and after a few tugs, the dress pools around her feet on the floor. Marinette turns around to face him, and Adrien’s breath hitches, lips parted as he looks at her in sheer adoration.
She’s mostly naked in front of him, save from the strapless bra and matching panties that keep her covered.
“You’re unbelievably sexy,” he breathes out and Marinette blushes.
Marinette has been told she’s beautiful. She’s heard it plenty of times. She knows it. With her big blue eyes, pouty lips and freckles, she’s like the textbook definition of adorable. But she knows she lacks the sex appeal to be considered sexy. It’s probably why this dress was such a big deal for her, it made her feel powerful, sexy. Even if for just one night.
But the dress is gone, and his eyes speak of lust and want; of love and adoration and finally...she believes him.
She reaches for him, and his hand fly to her waist and he hoists her on the table almost effortlessly. “So, beautiful,” he says, words punctuated by slow, searing kisses.
His tongue is slick and warm as it teases a path down her neck, sucking down the side of her neck and her exposed shoulders. Adrien makes no attempt to remove her bra just yet, just letting his lip kiss over the swell of her breasts. His green eyes almost seem to glow in the dark as he looks up at her. He hooks one finger on the side of her panties, his green eyes glinting with wicked promises. He traces wet kisses down her taut stomach, mesmerized by her tensing muscles.
Marinette pants in anticipation, and she leans back on her elbows, eyes fluttering closed as his lips finally reach the edge of her lacy panties.
Adrien’s hands grip her hips, pulling her closer to the edge in one sudden movement. She falls back against the table, her almost bare back feeling the cold surface of the table against her heated skin just as he starts to slide her panties off her body. His fingers hook against the sides of her lacy panties and he takes his time dragging it down her long legs. Her shoes are still on, but he doesn’t seem to mind, and in the end, her underwear tangles with the strap.
He takes one of her legs, eyes fixated on hers as he begins kissing his way up. It doesn’t escape her that he chose the one leg that had been exposed by the slit on her dress, and if this is what he choses to get revenge… she has no issue with it.
However, his pace is unbearably slow, and Marinette wiggles her hips in complaint. She’s so wet and he has her naked at his command. “Adrieeen,” she mewls, and he smiles against the skin of her thigh, giving it a playful nip before inching closer to where she wants him the most.
His lips trail wet open mouthed kisses on her thighs and Marinette would have complained again, if it wasn’t for the fact that his fingers finally reach her opening. “Oh!” She moans, and he smiles again, his cheshire grin hidden against the skin of her thighs.
Then, before she realizes what’s happening, he grips her hips and drags his tongue all over her. All she can see is the top of his blond hair. She’s unable to stop the moan even if she wanted to.
His pace is slow, tortuous even as he looks for the places that make her cry out the loudest. She stifles a moan, but he hums against her body and she melts against the table. He sounds proud, almost teasing and sounding almost too proud of himself, and soon enough Marinette is a mewling mess on top of his dining table. She reaches for his hair, and she can’t decide between pulling at it desperately or lovingly run her fingers through it. But then his tongue’s circling around her clit and oh!
“Oh Fuck!” she almost sobs, and Adrien introduces one long finger into her. His eyes focus on her face, gauging her reaction as he methodically moves it. In and out, in and out. He then introduces a second finger and Marinette realizes she might have just died .
She covers her mouth with one of her hands, bashfully trying to smother her wanton mewls. But he’s figuring her out by now, and he’s playing her just right. Her hands flail around the table, trying to grip onto something, but she finally only manages to toss the only ornament on his table, a tall flower vase. It crashes to the ground, and the glass scatters under the table. It’s almost enough to take her out of the mood.
“Leave it.” He says, his voice thick with desire as he bites at her inner thigh. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Marinette’s not sure whether his wonderful ministrations have her so much on edge, or whether it's his voice, dripping with desire, but she’s on edge as wonderful pressure builds inside her. She knows she won’t last long.
He introduces a second finger into her body and she cries out, back arching as she feels herself reaching the crest of her orgasm. His hands on her hips are firm, keeping her in place for him to enjoy as well. “Adrien, I’m… ah!”
He hums proudly and licks on her clit with renewed gusto, as he pumps two fingers in and out of her.
She’s finally there, and her back arches off the table as she grips the edges, needing some line back to earth as she finally reaches the stars. “Adrien! Ah!” she cries out, but he doesn’t relent, his tongue still tracing over her, as she finally comes down from her orgasm.
Marinette is a boneless heap against the table, and Adrien begins kissing a path up her body. He’s still wearing too many clothes for her tastes, but she has to admit it. His distraction tactics were highly effective.
The seducer became the seducée
But she’s not done with that battle just yet. “I want you,” she states, both legs wrapping around his waist, his stupidly still clothed waist.
“You have me,” he says, and Marinette chooses to ignore the smug look on his face.
Marinette begins fighting with his belt, and throws it away through the room, where it falls with an ugly clatter. His zipper comes next and after some graceless tugs, his pants pool around his ankles, leaving him in only his boxer briefs and his half opened dress shirt. He’s straining against the black fabric of his boxers, and her eyes light up.
Marinette palms the bulge, licking her lips. She sneaks her hand under the elastic and finally feels him. Velvety hot and hard against her palm. Marinette pulls his boxers down and he’s finally free. Her hands pumps him a few times, her thumb tracing over the tip, where precum had already seeped through.
Adrien’s eyes close, and he braces himself on the table. “We need a condom,” he says.
“My purse,” Marinette says, her eyes looking for the clutch purse, thankfully discarded within arm distance. “Wishful thinking.” She grins as she fumbles with the latch to look for the protection she’d stored.
With the dress she wore tonight, it was less wishful thinking and more self-fulfilling prophecy.
Adrien fumbles to get her purse, and Marinette gets the pair of condoms she brought with her. Thank God she had been prepared this time. This is possibly the time they should make it to his bed, but Marinette isn’t concerned with things such as decorum right now.
His dress shirt still hangs from his shoulders and Marinette pushes it off, until he is finally bare chested in front of her. A few buttons scatter across the room as she savagely tears the garment off his body, but she can’t find it in her to care right now.
Her hands trace patterns over his muscles, just like she’d wished since the first time he’d undressed in front of her. She inches forward to kiss his chest, trace idle pattern with her tongue on what had once been uncharted territory.
Meanwhile, Adrien is concerned with removing the bra. His hands fumble with the hooks at her back, but one by one, he succeeds and the strapless bra falls onto Marinette’s lap.
He wastes no time in taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting softly. “So fucking hot,” he mutters against her skin as he searches for her other breast. He lavishes her skin with attention and Marinette sighs, head tilted back as she surrenders. “Adrien, stop teasing me!”
He laughs, though the sound doesn’t sound as teasing as it should be. It’s a throaty laugh filled with want and the sudden realization that this is real and this is happening. He kisses up her jaw, whispering how badly he wants her and how much he wants to savor everything.
Marinette reaches for his face and catches his lips, kissing him hungrily. Her hand delves into his hair and she reaches for the opened condom and rolls it on top of his erection.
His fingers tease her opening, as if testing whether she's ready, and he whispers against her lips. “You’re so wet,” and it’s almost a purr.
“Then do something!” she urges, blue eyes narrowed as her fingernails trace down the bottom of his belly. She’s mesmerized at the way his muscles tense at her touch and it will be something she’ll explore fully later.
“You’re sure?” he asks her, and she knows that it doesn’t mean just this. This isn’t just sex. Not between them. It can’t be just sex.
She pulls him in for a searing kiss, attempting to push every bit of emotion she could convey. “God yes,” she says, holding her gaze steady, as she tries to convey everything she feels in just those two words. “I want you.” Not just the sex. She wanted him.
His hands pull at her hips, and he kisses her lovingly. They part, breathing hard when the tip of his erection finally meets her heat. “Slow,” she urges him, and he does just that, pushing softly, green eyes looking for any sign of discomfort.
There’s hardly any. He stretches her, but it isn’t painful at all, especially not after the orgasm he’d just given her. But there’s a new feeling of fullness, completion that she’s never felt before and she relishes it. So they stay close for a second, skin against skin breath mingle as they adjust to this new feeling.
“Okay,” she breathes, her hand gripping his hip, “move.”
His hands find their place on her hips, and he thrusts into her. “Mari,” he moans, before pulling back and thrusting again. He’s so hot, and so hard, and she can feel everything and it’s driving her mad. “Oh God.” He groans against her neck.
“Adrien,” she moans, both arms holding onto his neck as she tries to keep as close to him as possible. She’s so sensitive from earlier that she knows she doesn’t need much. “Harder. Please.” She’s strong, she knows he knows this. She can handle him.
He complies and thrusts into her, fast and hard. Her moans echo into the empty apartment and he relishes the way her breasts bounce with the sheer force of his movements. The table creaks and it should be a concern, but not when they’re both this close. Not when they’ve waited for so long.
One of her shoes finally falls down, clattering loudly against the wooden floors, but he doesn’t stop. “Adrien, I’m so close,” she mewls, nails digging down his back, leaving angry pink nails that will be there come next morning. “There! Right there!” she cries.
Emboldened, he thrusts harder, feeling her come undone with every move. He kisses her hard, tongues meshing together in a sloppy dance. “Come for me,” he urges, knowing he can't last that much longer. “Come on.”
She’s not close behind and her back arches again. She cries, arms clinging to his neck as she trembles all around him.
“Oh God Mari,” he moans, feeling her walls tighten against him. It’s all he needs to come as well, spilling into the condom as they collapse against the table.
They hold each other for a second, sweaty and spent, his forehead resting on her shoulder as they catch their breath. “I need to…” Adrien doesn’t finish his sentence, but it’s obvious. The condom. “I'll be right back," he says and hurries towards a door she now guesses is the bathroom.
She feels oddly naked now that she’s alone, so she hops off the table and kicks off her remaining shoe. Her lacy panties are right next to the discarded shoes, so she untangles them and slips them on, if only to feel a little less awkward. The next thing she grabs is Adrien’s dress shirt, haphazardly buttoning it up enough to make sure it stays on her body. Marinette takes a look around the table, and she spots the broken pieces of glass on the floor. Oops. They were going to have to do some serious cleaning come next morning.
She walks through his apartment, her bare feet making no sound against the wooden floor. His living room is spacious, and there's a large television and every gaming console known to the world. But it lacks pictures, other than some old from their time at school. But other than that, there are no personal touches. Everything in it is functional. A purchase made because it was needed . Not wanted.
Her chest tightens, filled with emotion for this man, this boy with the heart of gold but who has always had to struggle to be a part of a normal life. She only hopes she can give him that. He deserves that and more.
The windows in the living room are long, almost reaching to the floor. She opens one and steps outside to a small balcony. There's a small table, and she imagines them having a small breakfast as they admire the Parisian sunrise. She can see the Eiffel tower from a distance and smiles.
A blanket is draped over her shoulders and she smiles up at Adrien. He carefully steps out on the balcony, barefooted and wearing only his dress pants. His button is undone and they barely cling to his narrow hips. He looks good.
"Thought you'd be cold."
She refuses the blanket, instead wrapping it around his shoulders and huddling up to him. "You have a great view."
"I know," he answers, eyebrows waggling playfully. "That shirt looks better on you."
She laughs, smacks him lightly and reaches for his hand. The balcony is small, so Adrien leans against the back wall and pulls her with him as they wordlessly look at the scenery. Their fingers lace over her waist and she's content.
"Do you have classes tomorrow?" She turns around and wraps her arms around his waist. She's done with the show. She's pretty much unemployed until she finds something to do. Or she signs up at school again.
"I don't." Semester is ending, he didn't need to go to school as much as before.
"Can we stay in?" she asks, blue eyes hopeful as she looks up at him. "Let's just be us."
His smile is warm, and his arms tighten around her. "I like being us."
Her back rests against his chest, and the blanket covers both of them. The temperature is low, his chest is warm and she doesn't want to let him go just yet.
"I meant it," she says. "I do want you . Everything. If you want it, that is."
His smile is gentle and teasing. "Do you even need to ask?"
She blushes, and turns around, still encased in his arms. "I like to hear it."
Her chin rests on his chest, looking up at him. It tickles, making him squirm, but he doesn't move. "I've loved you since before I could really understand what love really was." He’s so earnest, so sincere that her heart soars.
She'd been blind before. But then again, she had always been more stubborn than he was. "I think I've always loved you." Despite all her complaining and how much fun she poked at him. She adored Chat, and Adrien had been her crush for all of school. "It just took me a little time to see things clearly." She pauses, biting her lower lip as she averts her eyes from him. "I was scared."
His arms tighten protectively around her. "Of what?"
"Losing you?" She shrugs, awkwardly laying it all out for him. "You're the most important person in my life. We've been through so much and..." The thought of it ending, of him not being a part of her life scares her more than she can verbalize.
"Now we can go through more," he finishes for her. They’re young, their lives are just starting. There are plenty things they can experience together. "Marinette. I've been here for years. I'm not leaving."
She finally relaxes against him. Allowing herself to believe. "I'm not leaving either." Her arms loop around his neck, and she brushes his hair with his fingers. "I want everything."
He relaxes against her touch, and a smile appears on his face. "We can have everything." He pulls her up, kissing her softly. "You'll see."