Continuing Tales


A Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir Story
by MidnightStarlightWrites

Part 27 of 35

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He was watching her.

Marinette could feel it. Though her back was to him as she idly scrubbed at some of the leftover dishes from their earlier meal, Marinette could feel Adrien's eyes burning holes into her back. Instinct lapped at her spine, sending shivers careening through her as she desperately tried to control her breathing.

She was unsuccessful.

Her parents had left a couple of hours ago, the remnants of the pizza they'd had for dinner were still on the table along with her acceptance letter, the credits of the movie they'd just watched were still playing in the background. Everything was so domestic, so commonplace, so normal.

So normal, in fact, that it was giving Marinette a heart attack.

What was wrong with her? She'd been fine earlier, giddy with the thrill of simply cuddling on the sofa, sharing the occasional soft nuzzle or gentle brush of lips, feeling Adrien's chest rise and fall beneath her fingertips. They were used to such moments, had cuddled even before their post-reveal days. Such acts, whilst they had a new layer of depth to them, weren't anything new.

But this feeling, snaking through her system, coiling around her veins and nipping at her lips, this feeling most certainly was new.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had had many rendezvous together recently; quiet ones, intimate ones, stolen seconds in between transformations and longer, languid moments during their patrols- where nothing mattered but entwined tongues and bodies pressed against each other.

Only now did it occur to Marinette that, whilst she'd had many of those times with Chat Noir- their civilian selves had been rather… chaste.

She'd yet to feel Adrien the way she'd felt him as Chat Noir. Aside from the lack of time to be together in a normal every-day context, masks made everything easier. The rooftops of Paris seemed like another world, one where she was brave and sexy, confident and wanton. After all, she was Ladybug, and Ladybug could be anything she wanted to be. Marinette, on the other hand, couldn't be anyone except Marinette. Not that there was anything wrong with being herself, she mused, it was just different. More vulnerable.

His eyes were still on her, she could tell, and she could read the sudden heaviness in the air as though it was a sentence spelled out in the soap bubbles on her hands. But Marinette had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she'd failed to notice Adrien stepping towards her back until his arms slipped around her waist and his lips were pressed against her neck.

The glass she'd been washing almost fell from her fingertips so sudden was her pause. Yet it didn't take long for her to become pliant against him. The real trouble was trying not to close her eyes.

Somehow, she found her voice.

"Can't live without me for more than a few seconds?"

Adrien shook his head. The bridge of his nose was against her shoulder, causing his blonde hair to flutter against her exposed neck and cheek, and she giggled in response. Whatever nervousness she'd previously felt melted away. He made this all so natural.

"Nu-uh, no way, nope-ity nope," he mumbled against her skin. "I got bored."

"I've been washing dishes for five minutes tops," she hummed, continuing with her chore as if to emphasise her point. Despite her teasing tone, she was certain he could feel her heartbeat throbbing. Ignoring the sudden twist of her stomach, she reached behind her and tapped a soapy finger to his forehead. "Needy Kitty."

"Sleepy Kitty," he countered, rubbing his wet forehead on her t-shirt sleeve and ignoring her tut of disapproval. "I'm sleepy, and sleepy kitties need kisses and cuddles from their girlfriends. 's a fact, Princess. A fact they put in books and everything."

Marinette rolled her eyes fondly, imagining her fifteen-year-old self. If she could go back and tell her younger self that Adrien Agreste would be hanging off her like a literal cat, demanding kisses and cuddles, she would have laughed outright at such a ridiculous notion. Adrien Agreste? The perfect, sweet, charming model son, doing something so silly? No way! Not ever in a million years.

She smiled to herself, happy with the knowledge that she much preferred the real version of Adrien to the fantasy she'd concocted in her brain three years prior.

"If I kiss you now," Marinette reasoned, wiggling around so that she was facing him instead, "will you let me finish washing the dishes like some 1950's cliché?"

Adrien pulled his head away from her shoulder and nodded vigorously.

"Absolutely," he agreed, his fingertips lightly brushing her sides, "but just so you know, I have no problems doing the dishes. In fact, when I'm a house cat, I'll be doing most of the chores right?"

"Is that so?" Marinette asked, wrapping her arms around him. Adrien growled and tugged her impossibly closer.

"It is," he replied leaning in, only to stop when Marinette's fingers created a barrier between his lips and her own.

"One kiss," she stated firmly.

Adrien grinned wickedly against her fingers, his eyes flashing in a deviously Chat-like way which made her tremble.

"One kiss is all I need, my lady," he purred, grasping her hand and leading it gently away from their faces.

It was more than one kiss.

Of course- it started innocently enough, both parties sincerely meant it to be one kiss and leave it at that. But the kiss lingered too long, became a long, drawn-out symphony of lips and tongues. Marinette, as always, was the one to move first, to snake her arms around Adrien's and pull him in to deepen the kiss. But Adrien was quick to break their agreement also, too wrapped up in her scent, the feel of her, the taste, intoxicated by her mere presence.

Soon they were moving away from the sink, stumbling through Marinette's tiny kitchen into the open living room. The kisses became quicker, softer, more reassuring as half of their attention was paid to making sure they didn't fall over or break anything.

Marinette was the first to hit the sofa, her hair pooling around her messily, her t-shirt riding high above her hips as she sank clumsily into the softness of the cushions. Grabbing the front of Adrien's shirt, she pulled until he was comfortably nestled on top of her. Once again, their lips met, his crashing down on hers, and it occurred to Marinette that she didn't feel nervous. Instead she was overwhelmed by need, by certainty and desire, by a sense of rightness. That Adrien's hands were gripping her hips tightly, the weight of his body on hers, for the first time should have been scary. In some ways it was, but it was also a good kind of scary. It wasn't fear, more like exhilaration. Like flying.

"Adrien," she moaned as he kissed her neck, one of his fingers hooking onto her t-shirt to expose more of her skin. He'd kissed her neck so many times, but never out of the suit. She could feel his lips on her now, and it was driving her crazy. There were no barriers here.

The sound of her gasps seemed to do something to Adrien. Suddenly his kisses, his touches, became more frantic, more passionate than before. His hands, once lovingly caressing, now clung to her, fingernails scratching ever-so-slightly, and her back arched under such attentions. She felt dizzy, breathless, unsure of where to touch him but knowing she wanted to touch him everywhere, that she wanted to make him feel good. Her ministrations became just as quick, just as passionate as his and, when their lips met again, it was Adrien's turn to moan when she softly bit his lower lip.

He broke the kiss like a drowning man bursting through the surface of the water at last, and Marinette didn't have a second to register before he'd rested his head beside hers, his forehead against the sofa and his eyes shut tight. She felt him trembling but, without seeing his face, her anxiety spiked. Despite the desire fogging her mind and senses, despite the need for him making her limbs heavy, her gut instinct told her something was wrong.

"Adrien?" she panted, wishing that she could see his face. "Are you ok?"

The sigh she received in response wasn't encouraging, however Adrien pushed himself onto his elbows before she had the chance to react. She frowned, tilting her head at him in confusion.

Adrien's face was flushed, his eyes cloudy but resigned. Propping himself up with on hand, he used the other to find her own.

"I'm probably… probably saying this too late but I had to, before- before we… umm… you know we don't have to do anything you don't want to? You know that right?" he whispered, tangling his fingers with hers and pressing them to his heart. "I- I'm aware this is different, and we could get carried away but please, please tell me if it's too much. I don't care h- how far it is or how far we go. As long as you feel ok, I'll be ok. Ok?"

Marinette stared up at him, admired the way the low honey-lighting of the table lamp made his hair shimmer and his skin glow. It made him seem warmer somehow, not just in temperature but in character too. His lips were drawn into a tight line of apprehension; his eyes bore into her own, deep and green and so, so desperate for her to understand the seriousness of his words…

At once, Marinette understood. Truly understood. She could be safe with him, she would be safe with him. Her heart, her body, her soul, would all be safe with him. That might have seemed boring to someone else, after all what was an ordinary love story compared to two daring superheroes finding love? But, to Marinette, it was more perfect than anything she'd ever felt in her entire life. The house Adrien had spoken of had never been clearer in her mind's eye.

It was like falling in love all over again.

"We can take it slow," she whispered, leaning up to kiss their joined hands, and then his lips. When she broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his. "We've been friends for a long time but this is new for us, right?"

"Right," Adrien said, the tenor of his voice sending calming waves through her body. She felt him smile and hum in content. "Besides I like the idea of taking it slow, I can romance you Adrien Agreste style."

Marinette chucked, kissing his nose before settling back down on the sofa. She could practically feel the knots forming in her hair, knowing that detangling them would be a labour of love.

Well, no pain, no gain.

"I look forward to it," she hummed, gesturing for him to settle beside her, and fighting the urge to laugh as she used most of her strength to catch him off guard.

The next thing Adrien knew, was that the tables were turned, that he was now lying on the sofa and Marinette was straddling his hips.

"But just because we're taking things slow, doesn't mean we can't do… stuff," she said, her hands lifting his shirt so that her fingers could trail down his stomach, admiring the toned muscles and sun-kissed skin as they went.

"Stuff," he spluttered, his voice cracking and his cheeks looking more sun-burnt than sun-kissed. Marinette smirked, jostling her hips and feeling an odd sense of power at the way Adrien gasped when she did so.

Without pausing to think on it further, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the ground.

"Stuff," she replied, thankful that she was wearing one of her good bras that day (a light pink affair with little black ribbons and a touch of lace that kept it from being too innocent looking- she'd bought it online shortly after her first kiss with Chat Noir).

Adrien looked like his brain had vanished. His whole face seemed to glaze over as he gazed at her now exposed torso.

Her heart was racing, and she was pretty sure his was too. Either that or it had stopped altogether.

After a few moments of waiting, Marinette took his hand and gently placed it on one of her breasts.

"It's ok," she whispered.

Adrien looked in her eyes, uncertainty fading once he saw the look she was giving him- a look of reassurance, trust, and something deeper that he couldn't quite fathom at that moment.

His thumb brushed against the curve of her breast, where skin and lace met, and it was like he'd reached through her chest and personally made her heart skip a beat. This was new ground for both of them, and they had a long night ahead of them to explore that new ground.

Adrien left her breasts alone for a brief second, sitting up to pull Marinette into a loving kiss. She trusted him so much, and he wanted to repay that in the love he poured into every action from now on.

But for now, he was content to match her, to pull his own shirt from his head and let it join hers on the floor.

He moved so that he was properly sitting up, one arm wrapped around Marinette's waist to steady themselves, and they kissed again. Something about both of them being topless made the kiss more sensual than any kiss they'd ever shared previously. The new sensation of skin-on-skin, the heat mingled with yearning, created a rush of affection and unadulterated happiness as he recalled the last time they'd been this undressed around each other. The spa day.

He'd wanted so badly to look at her, to hold her, to touch and love her that day. Now that he could, now that she was willingly letting him do so, he was going to prove himself worthy of the honour. Because it was an honour, at least to him, that such an amazing girl had fallen for him, had chosen him.

Adrien was lucky. He had to be.

Chat Noir's luck be damned.

Nobody with bad luck would be able to spend a romantic evening with the woman of their dreams. Adrien was sure of that.

And he intended not to waste a single second of it.


A Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir Story
by MidnightStarlightWrites

Part 27 of 35

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