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Adrien and Marinette’s first kiss was, in their usual fashion, unplanned.
It was your typical case of absent-minded affection. The type of kiss you saw in rom-coms, you know? The ones where two good friends were laughing together one moment and silent the next, eyes meeting just before lips did in an embrace that could only be described as “overdue.”
It was the type of kiss brought on by a lingering look, a meaningful smile, a comfortable grasp of the shoulder until the two of them had somehow gravitated towards each other in an almost involuntary shift. It was sweet and short and so full of “why haven’t we done this before now?”
Looking back, Adrien might have chuckled at the memory of how red the girl had turned as they broke away, if not for the fact his face had undoubtedly been a brilliant shade to match as the two of them parted with mumbled excuses for their sudden behavior. Marinette had left quickly after that, assuring him the kiss wasn’t unwanted before making her way out of the library with eyes glued to the floor.
Adrien and Marinette’s second kiss, however, was entirely intentional on his part.
Don’t get him wrong, his heart still beat wildly for Ladybug, but a guy could only go so long without having his feelings reciprocated before his eyes (and mouth) started to wander. And in all honestly, they had never made it past being just teammates in the now nearly 5 years of their partnership, so he didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. ‘Besides,’ he told himself after days of wavering eye-contact and questioning smiles between him and Marinette, ‘you can’t really cheat on someone you never actually dated.’
He decided to take a leap.
“I’d like to kiss you again,” Adrien had told her, aiming to sound honest and forth-right but probably hitting somewhere along the lines of pleading as he stood before his bewildered classmate just days after their first encounter.
“Why?” the girl questioned, voice toeing the edge between self-depreciation and genuine curiosity as she leaned against the bookshelf to their left.
“Because I like you,” Adrien said, giving her a shy smile as she gulped at his confession. “And I liked kissing you. And I’d really like to do it again…that is, if that’s what you want too…” Her nod was quick, and the gesture sent a thrill of happiness (mixed with only the smallest hint of guilt) down his spine.
“O-Ok…” Marinette responded, voice wavering but body un-flinching as she’d tilted her head up to meet his descending lips. This time the kiss was longer, no shock of realization to snap them from their embrace as Adrien tentatively cupped her chin and closed his eyes. It was also impossibly better than the first, their movements becoming more and more comfortable as each millisecond flew by. When the need for air outweighed the need for contact, the two of them had released the kiss with twin sighs, Marinette’s eyes fluttering open as if to confirm it was, in fact, him she had been kissing just moments before.
Adrien and Marinette’s third kiss was when questions started popping up.
“What is this?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What are we?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you want this to mean?”
“I…”
Adrien wanted to be able to give her answer. It was never his intention to string her along (he would never do anything to manipulate or otherwise trick Marinette into giving up anything she wasn’t comfortable with), but there were inherent complications that came with…whatever it is they were doing.
The most obvious obstacle was his father, who’s strict rules against dating left little room for him to pursue a relationship even if he wanted to. God forbid if the indomitable Mr. Agreste caught wind of there being a possible girlfriend to interfere with his son’s responsibilities, Adrien would be pulled from school faster than you could say “family reputation.” And of course there would be unimaginable backlash from his fangirls. Chloe alone would make Marinette’s life a living hell if it were revealed that the two of them were dating.
(There was an unspoken third reason in the form of a bespeckled superheroine, but Adrien tried not to let that be his main source of confliction.)
So in the end, after an honest conversation over afternoon coffee, the two of them had reached an agreement, one that would preserve whatever was going on between them but ward off any unwanted attention their relationship would bring. Initially, Adrien had shifted with unease as soon as the suggestion left his mouth, but Marinette (sweet, understanding, and entirely too good for him Marinette) had just looked thoughtful, tossing the idea around her head as idle hands picked at the lid of her drink. And after asking for a few clarifications on what exactly “secret-dating” entailed, she seemed receptive to the idea, giddy even, as she looked at him through shy lashes.
“If this is what you want, then this is what I want,” Marinette had told him, eliciting a sigh of relief from the grinning boy as the two of them exchanged identically awe-struck expressions at their new-found attachment. And just like that, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was his girlfriend.
Adrien and Marinette’s fourth kiss was on the sidewalk outside the café, followed by the promise to text each other when they reached home.
Adrien and Marinette’s fifth kiss was stolen between classes in an empty hallway, their quick meeting of lips trailed with a secret smile as they slipped away.
Adrien and Marinette’s sixth kiss was during a break in one of their study session, more heated than their others yet entirely too brief, as the ever-present threat of one of her parent popping in to check on them made their moves cautious.
Adrien and Marinette’s seventh kiss wasn’t on the mouth.
Adrien and Marinette’s eighth kiss began with a swift but gentle reminder that hickey’s weren’t really an option in his line of work and ended with Marinette being the one wrapping a scarf around her love-stamped collarbone.
As the days turned to weeks and finally passed the month mark, Adrien found it more and more difficult to act casually around his girlfriend when they were in public. He’d grown so used to the absent touches, the warm smiles and teasing laughs that were ever-present in their private time that acting as though he and Marinette were nothing more than friends became a constant struggle. Especially since they had decided for posterity’s sake that even Alya and Nino couldn’t be clued in on their relationship. Every group outing, every class project, every minute out of their solitude turned in to a game of “Try not to flirt with Marinette.”
Or better (worse?) yet, “Don’t let Marinette get inside your head.”
Because for someone who just weeks ago would have tripped over her morning greeting to him, Marinette had shed her awkward exterior remarkably fast.
Maybe it was the fact Adrien was now free to let more of his goofy side out around her. Maybe it was the fact it’s hard to get tongue-tied when that particular muscle is other-wise occupied. But regardless of the reason, his girlfriend had few reservations towards him at this point in their realationship..
In private, she was intense to say the least, and Adrien had learned very early on not to get her too wound up or he himself would come undone under her surprisingly competitive ministrations. Every kiss he gave her was met with two more. Every flirty innuendo was flipped back onto him with twice the intensity. What was the old saying? “Lady in the street…?”
Of course in public she couldn’t exactly lay it on quite as thick as during their “study sessions”, but that never seemed to stop the girl from finding little ways to draw his attention. With the smallest of looks-a hidden smirk, a tiny bite of the lips- his dark haired vixen could render the previously-so-suave Adrien Agreste absolutely helpless in the face of their peers. And the fact that she knew the incredible power she now held over him only made Marinette that more likely to use her new-found confidence to keep her boyfriend on his toes.
Which would probably explain the dress.
“Damn Mari, your boobs!”
If anyone besides Alya had loudly announced that at the beginning of class, Adrien would have immediately squared up for a fight. But best friend privilege trumps secret boyfriend annoyance any day of the week, so he let it slide, rolling his eyes before letting them wander over to where his newly arrived girlfriend stood flushing in the doorway.
*WHAM*
The tablet in his hand clattered to the desk as he caught sight of what she was wearing, Adrien scrambling to pick it back up as his gaze remained laser-focused on Marinette.
‘Fuck’ was the first word that came to mind, followed swiftly by the old standby ‘Shit’ and a new favorite of his, ‘Mine.’ After that came words like ‘Short’ and ‘Skin’ and ‘Marinette’ and ‘Skin’ and ‘Pink’ and ‘Holy Fucking Shit that’s a lot of SKIN.’
The candy-colored ensemble was sleeveless, nipping in at the waist before falling in structured pleats to where the flower-embroidered hem rested, a good 4 inches above her knee. And with the winning combination of running darts at the bust and a cheekily plunging neckline, Adrien couldn’t help but silently echo Alya’s observation. ‘Her boobs did look amazing in that…’
“Yeah alright, down girl,” Marinette said, giving her best friend a crooked smile as she made her way to her seat. “Morning, Nino. Adrien…” she murmured, letting her eyes linger on him for just a moment before she blew past, the very edge of her skirt brushing his arm as she did so. ‘Ok that had to be intentional.’
“Good morning,” Adrien managed, arranging his features in what he hoped was an expression of idle friendliness as his heartrate continued to thud erratically against his ribs. ‘C’mon, just because you’re dating her doesn’t give you an excuse to ogle her-’
“No, but for real, lemme get your number girl…” Alya drawled out in an exaggerated purr, eventually descending into giggles. “Where in the world did you get that spicy little number and does it come in green?” Though Adrien continued to dutifully stare forward, the entirety of the teen’s attention was still focused on the exchange going on behind him, hyper-aware of her presence, her heat.
“I made it,” he heard Marinette respond, the small amount of pride in her voice dwarfed by his own. Sometimes (though not often) Adrien forgot just how incredibly talented his girlfriend was. She’d been talking about whipping up a few new pieces to expand her wardrobe for a couple weeks now, expressing her desire to branch out more in terms of design. Adrien took that to mean something along the lines of a new sweater, maybe a pair of shorts or even a romper.
Needless to say, he hadn’t expected her to concoct this kind of sinfully-sweet garment. This divinely torturous expanse of cloth that really should not be working him up as much as it did. ‘But then again, it was less about the material and more about the lack-thereof…’ Adrien thought pitifully, desperate to will the images of bared thighs and perky cleavage away as he gripped his stylus tight.
“So where are you thinking we should go for lunch today?” Alya chattered on pleasantly, “Because I heard about this new-“
“Actually!” Adrien cut in as he swiveled in his chair to face the girls (and no, not those girls.) “Marinette and I were planning on getting some work done on our history project during lunch break, right Mari?”
‘Way to be subtle, Agreste…’
Marinette peaked a eyebrow, taking a moment to read his face before deciding to play along.
“Uh…yeah. I totally forgot about that,” the girl replied quizzically, shaking her head before turning to her friend with a smile. “We can go wherever you want tomorrow, though!”
Alya assured her it was no problem, giving a slightly confused half-smirk as she glanced between a red-faced Adrien and a narrow-eyed Marinette. Luckily for them, the bell rang before any further questions could be asked, prompting Adrien to turn his attention back to what was going to be undoubtedly one of the hardest class periods of his life.
Three hours and forty-five minutes was how long he had to wait before they were dismissed for midday break.
Three hours and forty-five minutes of trying to ignore the fact his pretty-in-pink girlfriend sat just feet behind him.
Eight minutes of sitting through Marinette’s presentation about…was it the anatomy of the shoulder? Adrien couldn’t tell you.
Eight precious minutes of her standing before the class, gesturing to the projector as she prattled on with chest rising and falling at each word. ‘Get a grip, Adrien. Yes. She does, in fact, breathe. Just like every other person on earth.’
Of course not everyone else on earth could make the life-sustaining action seem so (dare he say it?) titillating. He was certain no one else on earth could make the word “supraspinatus” sound like a flirt, and yet…
The most torturous part of the experience was the apparent fact he wasn’t the only one who appreciated Marinette’s outfit. Although nobody in the class besides Alya was brave enough to comment, Adrien could practically sense the appreciative glances thrown her way by half of the school’s population. It didn’t surprise him, Marinette was a beautiful girl after all. But that fact didn’t stop him from almost flying off the handle as he watched Alix and Kim flash each other a thumbs up as his girlfriend leaned over her desk.
For three hours and forty-five minutes his blood boiled.
The bell was a blessing, giving Adrien the excuse he needed to gather his things with a furious bout of speed and stand beside her desk in wait. Though, as if she knew the rush he was in, Marinette made no attempt to hurry her packing. Chatting amicably with Alya as she shut her bag at a snail’s pace, the girl seemed down right leisurely as she turned towards him at last.
“Ready to go?” Adrien questioned with what he hoped was a casual smile. ‘Please say yes. Please, God, if we don’t get out of here…’
“All set,” Marinette responded mercifully, slinging her bag over her shoulder in a way that definitely didn’t draw his eye to her shifting chest. “I’ll see you after lunch, Alya.”
“Work hard, you two,” the redhead responded with a curious lilt, waving them off as the pair exited the classroom. As soon as they stepped through the door, Adrien’s anticipation only doubled, causing him to mirror her knowing grin as the duo made their way down the corridor.
“How has your day been going?” Marinette asked politely, having to double pace in order to keep up with his long strides.
“Good,” Adrien chirped, putting a gentle hand on her lower back as he ushered the girl in the direction of their destination. Despite the fact the lunch hour had just begun, he couldn’t help but feel like they were wasting precious time (time that could be spent with just the two of them). This led Adrien to practically hustle his girlfriend through the winding hallways.
“You know, I don’t remember us having a history project due…”
“We don’t.”
“So we’re not actually-“
“Nope.”
“Ah,” Marinette said in a small voice, giving him a nod of thanks as he wrenched the library door open with a short bow. Without checking to see if he followed, the girl made her way to the study rooms, ducking her way into the fourth one (their usual) before turning to lean against the desk that occupied most of the floor space in the tiny module. Adrien was right behind her, closing the door behind them.
With the loud click fading out, the room was thrust into a keen silence. It was at this point they would usually embrace, share a short, blushing kiss before sitting down to talk about how their week was going. But today didn’t count as usual. Not when he was this wound up. And if Adrien’s suspicions were correct (quite likely if her sly smile was any indication), Marinette knew exactly what she’d gotten herself into.
Maybe it was her resemblance to Ladybug, both physical and in personality that made him like this. Or maybe it was something purely Marinette, something sweet and sharp and almost intoxicating. But whatever the reason, the girl before Adrien seemed to draw the more animalistic side out of him, until there was nothing but pure, feline intensity clawing its way up out of his chest.
Because Adrien Agreste (straight A student) would never dare surge forward with such ferocity. Never dig his hands into the sides of a stunned Marinette’s hipbones before hoisting her atop the desk.
Because Adrien Agreste (obedient son) would never smash- press or place, yes…but never smash -his lips to hers as he hiked her knees up to hook behind his torso.
And because Adrien Agreste (poised model extraordinaire) certainly would not growl in such a manner as he traced his tongue along the inside of Marinette’s cheek, careful hands turning carefree as they roamed up her ribs to dance against the bare skin of her back.
But it seems as though Adrien Agreste had exited the building, folks. He was gone, vanished, leaving no one else besides that flirty Chat Noir available to take up the duty of ravishing his girlfriend in his absence.
And it seemed as though the superhero was committed to taking his responsibility seriously for once, as evidence by the fervor with which he pulled her flush against his thrumming form. Marinette melted into the kiss, washing away the last of his inhibitions with a soft moan that vibrated across their joined mouths. The adoration drew a similar sound from his throat, prompting him to remove one hand from her back to tangle into the mass of black hair spilling between her shoulder blades.
‘Throat’
His mind caught on the word, that single syllable drawing his lips ever lower as he continued to pattern the near-incoherent girl with scorching kisses.
‘Go for the throat.’
That instinctual command took on a whole new meaning as the blonde found purchase right above her pulse point. Licking and laving at the column of Marinette’s neck, it was almost impossible for him not to sink soft bites into the goose-bump ridden flesh. Had it been up to him, Adrien would have already made his brand. Made it twice, three times. But he wasn’t so far gone to completely forget that she needed to have a say in this too.
“I want to mark you,” the cat pleaded, aching to leave his calling card upon the milky collarbone beneath his whispering lips. To brand her as his own so that all other creatures would keep their distance from this remarkable “his.”
“Well you can’t,” the girl replied breathlessly, failing to sound even the tiniest bit serious as her voice betrayed her desire to keep his mouth pressed hot against her skin. “I don’t have a scarf.”
“So?” he husked, tilting his head as he trailed the very tip of his nose along the taut line of her throat.
“Or a jacket.”
His short hum in response was met with sigh.
“And my outfit today isn’t exactly the most high-cut piece of clothing I own.” Marinette said, voice half-exasperation and half-arousal as she pulled his face gently out from under her chin. Adrien blinked to find himself so suddenly drawn from his niche, eyes focusing down on her flush form as he registered the words she’d spoken.
“Hm, really? I hadn’t noticed,” he mumbled, trying and failing to keep his eyes from dropping straight down into the line of her cleavage. ‘Yep, still there.’
She squirmed under his gaze, only further emphasizing her assets as two pale arms folded themselves beneath the swell of her chest. It was supposed to be a gesture of authority, but to his lust-hazed vision, it seemed more like an invitation than anything. Adrien gulped, hands stilling atop her hips as he dragged his line of sight back up to her inscrutable face.
“Do you like it?”
Her words were soft, though their whispered presence might as well have been a yell in the otherwise silent study room. Adrien licked his lips absently, stomach flipping at the strange cadence her question had. Like it was almost a challenge. Almost a dare.
“I like them,” he confirmed in a low voice, eyes widening almost instantly as he recognized his mistake.
‘Backpedal, backpedal immediately!’
Adrien rushed forward with a string of frantic corrections. “IT, I MEAN. I LIKE IT. THE DRESS. I LIKE THE DRESS. NOT…uuuhhhh shit…not those…”
‘Just give up,’ his mind supplied, the blood rushing to Adrien’s face as he watched Marinette catch the initial meaning of his words with a short gasp. ‘Give up and try not to flinch when she smacks you for being a class-act pervert.’
She didnt smack him, at least not with her hands. But that's not to say her next words didn't land like a physical blow against his chest.
“Are you saying you don’t like these too…?” his girlfriend crooned out in a voice he would have never thought to associate with her, shifting her arms just a smidge to make it abundantly obvious exactly what “these” she was referring to. Though just seconds ago Adrien was sure he was dead, the way his heart rate now spiked said otherwise, blood roaring in his ears as the boy attempted to reign in his flopping jaw.
“N-no, no! I-ugh… I definitely like t-those too,” Adrien managed to grind out, looking up at her as if to confirm that was the right answer. Marinette just seemed thoughtful, the bashfulness of her smile clashing sharply with the mischief swirling around her cerulean eyes.
“Well good,” she said with a nod, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth at about the same she shifted closer towards him atop the desk, “Because otherwise, I would have felt pretty silly making this dress for you then.”
It was her nervous giggle that finally did Adrien in.
The cat was back and he was back with a vengeance, purring out her name as he drew her ginning mouth back against his own. Their lips moved comfortably against each other, tongues joining the dance just seconds later. Idle hands turned curious, then downright greedy as his long fingers bunched themselves into the delicate fabric against her hips. Ever so slowly, and with a kneading motion far too characteristic of his alter-ego's namesake, Adrien rucked the edge of Marinette’s skirt up until the embroidered hem pooled around the upper seams of her thighs. His thumbs went to work there, circling their way up the tops of her legs before pressing against the juncture of her barely covered hip.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Her answer was exactly the one he was hoping for, little more than a contented keen as the girl writhed under both the touch of his hands and the glide of his teeth along the edge of her earlobe. “Everyone was looking at you in class today. I was looking at you in class today…” The words curled their way along the shell of her ear, ghosting down her spine as Marinette shifted beneath him.
“Well they can look all they want,” her shuddering voice answered, “but only you get to touch.” Adrien groaned at the words, pulling back just enough to look into her half-lidded eyes. Marinette met his gaze and matched his intensity toe for toe.
As it to somehow emphasize her point, slim hands found their way atop his as they continued to knead at her hips. After rolling with the motion for a few strokes, she decided to change their course, pulling slightly until his palms yielded to her command. Adrien’s breath hitched as he felt her guide his palms up the sides of her torso, eye contact never wavering as their joined hands sailed across her ribs to settle in the gulf beneath her breast.
“What are you…?” He couldn’t finish the question, words sticking in his throat as Marinette’s hands abandoned his to hook their way under the straps beside her neck. Green eyes tracked their progress, dilating wildly as they watch both dress and bra get shifted down pale shoulders, revealing an unbroken plane of skin from one collarbone to the other. With his hands still tucked against her ribs, Adrien could feel the way her heartbeat mimicked his own, Marinette glancing up between lowered lashes to drawl heavily in the space between them.
“I…I think I can deal with hickies as long as they’re covered by my clothes,” she said, face flushed as a single finger tugged at the neckline of her dress. Adrien watched dizzily as that too slid downward, bunching under the curve of her covered breasts to tuck delicately under his waiting hands. “That way, you can leave a mark somewhere only you get to see…I-If you want to that is.”
A jolt raced down Adrien’s spine as he worked out what she was proposing, and the sight of her pale skin swelling out from behind the foam-cupped bra she wore only confirmed his suspicions. Marinette was staring downward, bothering her lip as if she feared he might not take her up on her incredible offer. But as his hand angled its way up, softly grasping at the pliant mound she so graciously set before him, the girl’s eyes snapped up with a hiss.
“Is this…do you want me to…?” Adrien tried to get his lust-heavy tongue to cooperate, finding it hard to think past the unending thought of…
Tits. Marinette’s tits. He was holding her tits. Holy fuck he was really grabbing her tits. HER TITS.
The girl before him nodded quickly, prompting his grip to tighten as he let twin thumbs skate across the edges of her bra. Marinette wasn’t what you’d call buxom, but she was by no means flat chested, meaning her proportionately sized breasts fit his hands as if they were made for each other.
And in this moment, Adrien couldn’t help but think that perhaps they were.
The teen steadied his breathing, eyes never leaving hers for confirmation as his right hand slowly peeled back the corner of one cup, revealing the top of a single rosy breast. In the next moment his mouth descended on the new territory, placing an open mouthed kiss on the soft flesh before drawing the skin up between his waiting lips.
“No!” Marinette panted sharply, causing Adrien to instantly release her with a flurry of apologies.
“Im sorry! Was that not-“
“Oh gosh no, you’re fine!” Marinette rushed to assure him as she drew his hands back to cup her firmly. “This is what I want, just…” her face flared impossibly brighter as her next words came out in little more than a whisper. “…you’re going to need to go l-lower if you don’t want anyone else to see it…”
‘Lower,’ Adrien thought dimly, ‘she wants me to go lower.’
He could do lower. Oh God, he could so do lower.
Unable to help the borderline leer that broke out across his face, the blonde bent back down to his previous position, pressing kisses to each new millimeter of skin that was revealed as he pulled her cup further and further down. He stopped when the material snagged, groaning as he realized it was her hardened nipple that caught the edge. “Here?” he whispered against the pebbling flesh of her breast, eyes never leaving the tantalizing half-moon of darker skin peeking from beneath the blue of her bra.
“There,” Marinette confirmed, crying out in the next second as she found herself once again suctioned back into his mouth with a hard suck of skin. Adrien felt her heels dig into the back of his knees, legs bracketing his hips tightly as she arched into his wet kiss. Encouraged by the hands he felt pressed against his neck, the boy finally allowed his teeth to come into play with a gentle dig against the jiggling flesh beneath him. She was so soft here, softer than any other part he had yet to encounter in their month of exploration. And the overwhelming sense of delicacy, of rarity and preciousness almost made him re-think his decision to mark her here.
Almost.
Her little moans, her keens and shudders let him know this wasn’t an act of desecration, but a gift for her alone. This wasn’t a brand for the sake of warding off others, he knew she was more than capable of doing that on her own. This was a sigil. A signature. A mark that said he had tread here not to conquer or claim, but to worship.
This body, her body, was a temple in every sense of the word, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to leave an offering to its goddess.
While his mouth went about its holy business (suck, bite, lick, repeat..), Adrien’s hands never stopped their ministrations. His right one stayed perched under the breast he was currently laving attention upon while his left one made sure her other side was getting equal care. The feeling of her supple flesh, even though the thin padding of her bra, was unimaginably erotic under his grip and Adrien willed himself to remember the feeling (as if the sensation wasn’t already burned into his mind.)
After an indeterminable amount of time, he separated from her with a wet pop, taking only a brief moment to admire the flushed spot he’d left imprinted low upon her chest before his gaze trailed up to Marinette’s face. His girlfriend had her dark head lulled back, lips kiss-bitten and eyes screwed shut as she wavered above him. The full plane of her neck was bared, chest heaving as she basked and arched under his attention. Adrien couldn’t help but let a low whistle escape him at the sight, prompting her eyelids to pop open in a sudden flash of blue. As Marinette seemed to come out of her haze, the girl worked up a fiery blush he knew had nothing to do with the rising temperature of the room and everything to do with the fact he was still bent over her half-dressed form with a breast in each hand.
Chat Noir flashed a rakish grin.
Adrien Agreste followed up with a breathless laugh.
And Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Well she was still catching her breath.
Once the two had gathered their wits, exchanging equally wondrous glances at their newly-expanded boundaries, Adrien helped her to straighten her appearance. Marinette shifted her bra back into its right place, murmuring her thanks as his hands slid her straps back up her shoulders. In an effort to retain his gentlemanly reputation after his…ahem… less than civilized treatment of her, Adrien help his girlfriend off the table. She landed a little shakily before him, skirt whooshing down to settle atop her thighs as he laid a steadying hand on her waist.
“That was…ok?” the boy questioned, twisting his lips into a tentative smile.
“I’d say it was a bit more than ok,” Marinette responded with a giggle, severing his last lingering thread of guilt over practically jumping her earlier. Adrien let out a huff of laughter, bending down for another, much softer kiss as she toed up to meet him.
“You know I really do like the dress,” he said once they parted, giving her outfit an objective appraisal as she comically posed under his gaze. “Excellent craftsmanship as always.”
“In that case, I can’t wait to show you what else I’m working on,” replied Marinette, the strangest glint in her eye as she slid past him to open the door. Adrien swallowed hard.
“You mean to tell me there’s more where that came from?” the boy asked, trailing her out of the study room with heavy feet.
“For you? Much more,” his girlfriend assured him with a wink, planting one last kiss on his cheek before ducking back into the crowded hallway.
And as hard as that morning’s block of classes had been, it couldn’t compare to the divine torture of the afternoon periods as Adrien tried not to bore a hole into Marinette’s chest over the exact spot he knew his hidden brand stood.
Well if nothing else, at least no one else could see it either.
“You seem paws-itively distracted, my Lady.”
Patrol was near silent that night, not that he was complaining. After he had gotten over his initial flood of (completely unnecessary) guilt at seeing Ladybug, Adrien quickly fell into the familiar grove of their weekend route around Paris. Though his partner seemed to still be far away, trailing behind as those not-quite-stifled smiles broke across her face.
“It’s all your puns, I think,” Ladybug responded grimly, pausing atop their current roof.
“Aw c’mon! If you’re feline off, you know you can tell me!” Chat teased, stretching his hands out with a smirk. “I have a whole list of purr-fectly crafted puns to help pull you from whatever funk you seem to be in!”
“You mean to tell me there’s more where that came from?” Ladybug said with a groan.
“For you? Much more,” Chat assured her, sending his partner a wink.
…
It took him a full minute to realize why his response was met with a girlish scream, but when he did, Adrien let his wide eyes trail to where Ladybug’s fingers pressed against her chest.
Right atop the mark he alone knew sat beneath her suit.
‘Fuck’ was the first word that came to mind, followed swiftly by the old standby ‘Shit’ and a new favorite of his, now spoken aloud into the night air between them.
“Mine.”