“I really, really, want to kiss you,” he interrupted her so quickly, a gentle growl dragging through his tongue with his distraught agony clinging onto his shoulders as he thought about being the reason she’d be in said danger. He lowered his face to search for her bluebell eyes, “which makes this so dangerous, Marinette. And I'm afraid,” he swallowed the buildup of a knot choking him before continuing, “that I won’t want to stop there.”
“Then don’t.” She almost pleaded, her own voice alone infiltrating away any former intentions.
Someone was going to get hurt. Was it worth it?
“Marinette...”
“No strings attached,” she interjected quickly, breathing loudly as she pushed herself closer, her eyes searching about his face through the dim lighting as her hands reached to hold around his neck.
“But...”
“Kiss me, and don’t stop, Chat.” She sounded almost distressed, the strain in her voice tugging at his heartstrings.
“I don’t think I'll ever stop when it comes to you, Marinette.”
Part 1: (post) (ao3) (ff.net)
Part 2:
Adrien Agreste’s eyes couldn’t stop lingering at the young girl that would sit in front of him during lunch, or across the courtyard during break. The day wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, except for the few times that Marinette’s hand would reach to touch right above her chest as if to sooth the area, the fingertip of her middle finger drawing circles over it, and he’d remember the burning sensation of said fingertips. He’d get subtle flashbacks from that night and his cheeks couldn't help themselves but to get flustered.
Plagg had berated him senseless as soon as he got home and detransformed for that night, although he hadn’t been quite listening to whatever his Kwami had to say. He’d spent the following days simply eyeing the young girl from afar, exchanging their casual chatting throughout the school day. Trying his best not to draw any attention when his green eyes would dart down to stare at her pink lips, and the way her pigtails were neatly placed into hair ties; he could have extended his hand outwardly and reach his fingertips through her silky strands.
But if Adrien hadn’t known what he did know, he wouldn’t have ever suspected that underneath her white tee and thin blazer she wore the love bites he’d left, possibly already fading, and hating that soon she wouldn’t have proof of that night.
“Yo, dude, you okay?” Nino sudden inquiry interrupted Adrien’s thoughts, his mind just beginning to lose itself as he remembered said night.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine, why?” He huffed a soft chuckle, trying to brush off his question as silly, as in “can’t you see I was paying attention to whatever Madame Bustier had to say,” when in reality his mind would fog at the memory of Marinette gasping so softly, whimpering his alter ego’s name so delicately.
It had been almost a week since he had seen Marinette inside her bedroom, always wanting to go back but just not knowing what would become of his visit. Although, he had such a vivid idea of what he wanted it to become. What he so desperately wanted to do to her.
He found himself wanting to touch every inch of her every time he was near her.
He could breathe in her faint scent of vanilla, the natural rose tint upon her cheeks making him want to act feral towards her. It worried him, making him anxious about not being able to stop kissing her frenzy this time, if he were to be alone with her again.
His hands twitched as he’d come to witness a few times her new act of “applying lip balm” – cherry ChapStick she claimed – as she explained that she didn’t want the weather to dry lips. But he knew better than anyone in that school that she shouldn’t worry about her lips drying at all. They were soft, and plumped, and pouty, that emitted the most divine sounds anybody could mutter just as she parted them slightly.
Adrien found himself stuck between having the urgency of wanting to see her and morally understanding that what they had both condoned into that night hadn't been the proper response. Not from his standpoint, at least, in the sense that he was Paris’ superhero and knew better; Marinette was just a fan, and although he was immensely attracted to her, he couldn’t allow himself to use his pedestal for his own benefit.
Still, he wanted to see her again. Tonight. To end things, of course, although he couldn't really say anything had started to begin with. They had just shared a few kisses; that’s it.
Opposing to Plagg’s advice, Chat Noir was now suited up with the excuse of patrol, in spite of his chase going directly towards The Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie bakery shop; although he wouldn’t be using the front door.
He landed with a soft step on the balcony, quickly peering through her skylight once seeing that her bedroom lights were still on. He had been hoping for this much, considering it was almost midnight; knowing Marinette as he did know her, he was aware of how much of a night-owl she could be.
Chat Noir gently knocked on the latched skylight door, anticipating anxiously for it to open with a smiling Marinette welcoming him in. But he only continued waiting, noticing she wasn’t in bed and probably by the desk area, although he couldn’t quite see her.
There was a loud thump, and suddenly he could see Marinette’s empty desk chair rolling away, and he assumed she had probably fallen off. He couldn’t help but chuckle lightly to himself. It was funny.
He didn’t want to seem desperate, despite actually being desperate, but through the anticipation he forced himself to knock again as he crouched in place, waiting.
It took a few minutes, but his belt-tail erected just as he saw the young girl climb up to her loft and quickly on her bed to reach for the skylight. As soon as the latch was open, the cat boy swooped in, landing on her bed beside her, not wasting time as he rubbed his cheek against her shoulder, purring quietly and delightfully.
Marinette winced, a wavering smile taking place as she nudged herself away momentarily, finding herself having to explain, “You’re cold,” when she noticed his knitted eyebrows stare at her with concern. Chat Noir grinned softly, forgetting the weather hardly affected him when transformed, but she was right, the weather had dropped pretty low since the morning.
“And you’re going to help me keep warm?” He inquired smoothly, already leaning towards her, shamelessly allowing the tip of his nose to skim against hers. There it was, the heavenly scent of vanilla he craved. So close, this time.
She was quiet, he noticed, with a subtle frown as she slowly pulled away from his touch. She wasn’t playing along to his silly antics this time, and was being rather serious.
He knew she’d probably be upset; he was just really hoping she wouldn't be. He kissed her in such a titillating manner, and hadn’t come back when he promised he would. The problem had been that he really wanted to come back.
He pulled himself away, watching her with curiosity and concern, his thumb and finger reaching to hook her chin to keep her head in place as he leaned closer.
“What’s the matter Marinette?” He sounded worried, his tone soft and low.
“You didn’t come.” She said into the drafty room, her tensed shoulder slouching as she glanced up at him. She shouldn’t be this upset, but he took so long to come back. “I really wanted to see you,” Marinette found herself scoffing so easily, it brought shivers down Chat Noir’s spine as he watched her eyes shut momentarily, amazed at how vocal she was being.
Her lower lip pouted slightly, like she wanted to say something else but kept stopping herself; and he couldn’t contain how cute she was, even now as she was upset at him.
“Marinette, it wasn’t that – I just didn’t know – “
“I asked you to come back,” Marinette quickly stopped his word-jam, pulling her head away from his grasp as she looked up at him with her eyebrows drawn together, showing how upset she was. “Why didn’t you, Chat?”
“Marinette,” he cooed with a soft voice, both his hands reaching to hold her elbows to draw her closer, just as she was moments ago, “I really wanted to come. But this...we can’t...you and I can’t be anything.” He wanted it to be clear that a relationship between then was close to impossible.
How would it work? She’d be in danger, and he couldn't risk it – he couldn't risk her.
“Chat I – “
“I really, really, want to kiss you,” he interrupted her so quickly, a gentle growl dragging through his tongue with his distraught agony clinging onto his shoulders as he thought about being the reason she’d be in said danger. He lowered his face to search for her bluebell eyes, “which makes this so dangerous, Marinette. And I'm afraid,” he swallowed the buildup of a knot choking him before continuing, “that I won’t want to stop there.”
“Then don’t.” She almost pleaded, her own voice alone infiltrating away any former intentions.
Someone was going to get hurt. Was it worth it?
“Marinette...”
“No strings attached,” she interjected quickly, breathing loudly as she pushed herself closer, her eyes searching about his face through the dim lighting as her hands reached to hold around his neck.
“But...”
“Kiss me, and don’t stop, Chat.” She sounded almost distressed, the strain in her voice tugging at his heartstrings.
“I don’t think I'll ever stop when it comes to you, Marinette,” he said back to her in a whispering tone, like it was a secret and anyone could be listening. His heavy eyelids were half-lidded, oppose to her wider ones, watching him watch her in a daze.
He had a mystifying blend of black cardamom smell to him, with a subtle hint of smoky vanilla, probably due to all the roof-hopping. She felt a shiver run down her limbs, and wanted to scream at the sheer angst she had not being able to see him outside of patrol as Ladybug. But he wasn’t kissing Ladybug. She couldn't kiss him as Ladybug. It wouldn't be right, morally, at least. There shouldn't’ be anything wrong doing it as Marinette, right?
No harm, no foul? Right?
Her mouth felt dry, and he was an itch that she was dying to scratch. “Chat Noir,” she breathed in deeply, trying to engrave him into her memory, “Kiss me already.”
She didn’t need to tell him twice. Although, he had initially gone to try and stop whatever shenanigans they were getting themselves into. But when she asked very sweetly, her voice drenched in honey, so inviting – who was he to deny such a desirable request?
“And if I can’t stop?” He almost promised, simply leaning closer to her, watching as she shut her eyes in anticipation. She took another breath, eliminating any space the two, wanting him.
“Then...don’t.”
Chat Noir’s hands squeezed her upper arms just as he pressed his lips into hers, her cherry lip balm still faintly lingering on her lips. How was she so addicting after tasting her just once? Both of her palms dragged down to spread widely against his chest, as though she was trying to hold onto something while kissing him back, but there wasn’t any grip to his leather suit.
Her mouth opened wider than the first time he kissed her, her lips taking as much as they could of him. She mumbled quietly into his mouth, very much enjoying their lip-tussling. The tip of her tongue swiped his lower lip, licking him like she’d enjoy a cupcake’s buttercream. She only kept pushing herself onto him, feeling the burning sensation of her fingertips traveled north until both of her hands intertwined into the tousled patch of his blond hair resting against the nape of his neck.
Her fingers dug harshly against his skin and drag themselves into his scalp, unconsciously massaging his occipital bone, making his whole body want to levitate at how good it felt.
Marinette’s heavy breathing was suffocating him, in the best way. His whole body felt heavy, at the same time liquifying just as her pouty lips began to kiss about his face, dragging her mouth across his cheek until reaching his jawline. He hadn’t noticed how easily her body was getting atop him just as he allowed himself to fall back onto her pillows.
Her sloppy kisses made him purr merrily; his boots pointing outwardly in trying to contain his happiness. His ears blocked out any other sound that weren’t her, composed to listen to the soft accidental moans she’d make against his skin, or the sharp inhale through her nostrils before crashing his lips against hers.
His gloved hands went to wrap themselves around her body, playing with the lower hem of her pajama top.
Their kisses deepen; her saliva tasting sweet as her tongue teased his lower lip again. He was on a trance when she suddenly pulled away, her hands releasing his head with the loud smack echoing in his ears, taking him longer than a second to open his eyes and try to remember where he was.
Marinette had begun shifting, easily mounting the cat superhero, a low grunt forcing itself from his dry throat as her thighs straddled his hips. He had no intentions of stopping her whatsoever. She sat so comfortably, staring down at him with such a mesmerizing gaze just as she squeezed him in between said thighs.
This was a dangerous game, and they knew so.
“Chat Noir,” Marinette called him, her voice just above a whisper, softly spoken just above in an inaudible murmur as she looked down at him with a such a bashful expression, that he wanted to devour her.
“Yes, Princess?” He found himself asking with a toothy grin, his palms spreading about her thighs, daringly proceeding to move upwards.
She wasn’t saying anything to him for almost a minute, trying to control her breathing before she quickly reached for the bottom of her shirt and swiftly removed it over her head to toss aside.
Chat Noir tried to sit up, taken aback by her actions, but she was quick to push him back down with a gentle shove. “M-Marinette,” he called to her, his green eyes spellbound by the way her breasts were perfectly cupped inside her light-shaded bra.
“Touch me, kitty cat,” she practically begged him, her hands searching for his to place onto each breast.
He gulped the knot on his throat, mouth slightly gaped, beginning to feel himself get hard as he let his hands be guided. He groaned audibly, his thumbs compressing to feel just how soft her breasts were, even with the material of her undergarment.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/18
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Gabriel Agreste/Nathalie Sancoeur, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle
Characters: Alya Césaire, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Nooroo (Miraculous Ladybug), Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug), Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), Nathalie Sancoeur, Caline Bustier, Chloé Bourgeois, André Bourgeois, Audrey Bourgeois, Master Fu (Miraculous Ladybug), Wayzz (Miraculous Ladybug), Trixx (Miraculous Ladybug), Mylène Haprèle, Ivan Bruel, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Alix Kubdel, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Luka Couffaine, Jalil Kubdel, Lê Chiến Kim, Max Kanté, Nino Lahiffe, Chris Lahiffe, Etta Césaire, Ella Césaire, Nora Césaire, Manon Chamack, Nadja Chamack, Aurore Beauréal, Lila Rossi, Alya's Parents, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Principal Damocles (Miraculous Ladybug), Kagami Tsurugi, kagami's mother, Marc Anciel, Duusu (Miraculous Ladybug)
Additional Tags: Alya Césaire-centric, alternative universe - alya has the butterfly miraculous, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Fluff, Angst, episode by episode chapters, there's a lot going on here, in the beginning its gonna be fun but later down the line it's gonna get heavy, Lovesquare, the love square is still there, just...more in the background, Fluff and Angst
Series: Part 1 of Fée Papiyon
Summary:
Alya is a girl who is obsessed with superhero comics, fighting for fairness, and standing up to bullies, which has gotten her into trouble in the past. However, this is a fresh start. She is starting her first day at a new school with a newfound power she is eager to test out... she hopes to make a good first impression.
Marinette Dupain-Chen was pregnant, she just hadn’t told anyone, yet.
They’ve had pregnancy scares before, but that’s all they were: scares. The tests always came back negative. This one wasn’t like those times.
Marinette Dupain-Chen was pregnant, she just hadn’t told anyone, yet.
Adrien Agreste sat at the foot of his bed, the large bed he had shared with Marinette for the past year – well, 11 months, two weeks, and five days, but who was counting the days until their move-in anniversary?
The young couple had been dating past a year now, and fresh into their relationship Adrien had been shipped to the states for a modeling campaign that was very important and would help elevate the Agreste name gracefully by association. Having meant, the young man didn’t have a choice but to leave at his father demand; although, he was allowed to come back during the weekends.
Long-distance dating right of the bat with Adrien Agreste had not been the way Marinette had foreseen her dating life to begin; not with the person she had been infatuated with since they were in high school. But alas, it was.
And so, each weekend the blond man would fly back into town and unpack inside the small apartment Marinette had been sharing with Alya. Unintentionally kicking Alya out, because as she declared, she didn’t want to hear all the sex they were going to have considering he couldn’t get some throughout the week. And although Alya’s teasing was just that, teasing, she wasn’t wrong.
As soon as Adrien texted his girlfriend that he was boarding the plane back to Paris, Alya was already packing her overnight bag to stay at Nino’s.
Marinette used to prep a “welcome back” meal to enjoy with the young Agreste, but a few weeks into their routine, she found ordering takeout was more of an ideal solution to Adrien’s neglect towards the meal because all he wanted to do was as soon as he walked through her door was relish on the young woman instead. His luggage was usually slumped and abandoned by the door to be needed much later.
Three months in, and Adrein was free. The modeling campaign had been a success, and although he was offered various extending deals that his father was expecting him to take, Adrien declined as he just wanted to be with his girlfriend for more than two days in a row.
Once Alya moved out of the apartment, Adrien moved right in. The conversation about moving in was almost nonexistent, as all Adrien said when he walked in for the last time as just a guest carrying only a duffle bag was, “I’m home.” And then he just never went away. Marinette didn’t mind – at all – and came to accept that she was now living with a boy. Her boyfriend.
It was great – life was great. He took the modeling gigs his father expected him to do, while Marinette was a full-time intern with the reputable company that was Gabriel after graduating top of her class to a prestigious fashion institute that sent Mr. Agreste an impeccable recommendation letter on her behalf; a very impressive recommendation letter that gave him no option but to hire his son’s very-talented girlfriend on the spot.
And, young Adrien was no kiss-and-tell, but his sex life was amazing. Of course, the couple was exclusive, and most of the time they didn’t bother with other kinds of contraceptive thanks to Marinette being on the pill. He had considered that to be safe enough. Which apparently had not been, considering he was now holding the positive pregnancy test he had shamelessly fished from their bathroom’s wastebasket.
They’ve had pregnancy scares before, but that’s all they were: scares. The tests always came back negative. This one wasn’t like those times.
He held onto the peed stick, pondering about the situation as he looked at the foggy positive symbol staring back at him. He wasn’t worried coming from a financial standpoint, but Marinette had just landed her dream job.
Still, his cheek twitched a lopsided smirk, his mind running wild for just a second too long as he imaged a pregnant Marinette. He laughed out loud thinking about how moody she probably was going to be, considering the mood swings she already had in her day-to-day life when her designs and projects weren’t coming along as coherently as she needed them to be. And Adrien didn’t know much about pregnant women, but he did know about their weird food cravings. Marinette didn’t already have unusual tastes in foods, so what was he supposed to do if she was wanting a pickle in the middle of the night. He knew pickles weren’t weird foods, but he just couldn't think of anything more random than pickles in the middle of the night.
Adrien smirked, coming to the conclusion that Marinette would look adorable as a pregnant woman.
Plagg flew into the bedroom carrying a usual piece of camembert cheese, and upon seeing his Kwami it was like a ton of bricks fell on him. What about Ladybug? Marinette couldn’t be pregnant and be Ladybug at the same time. Right? No, of course, not!
Adrien stood up quickly, stuffing the stick inside his jean’s pocket, feeling like he needed to do something. How was she feeling? Was she upset? Was that why she hadn't told him about it? He didn’t want the initial hurt of that thought to bother him; he recognized that although this situation did involve him completely, he needed to consider how Marinette felt.
Would he love to have a child with Marinette? Absolutely. But were they ready? Would she be willing to release the duty of Ladybug until necessary? And if not, what then? The blond man looked at his miraculous ring, thinking about her, and another ton of bricks fell through the sky right atop him.
A ring!
He wasn’t even married to her, and she’s already pregnant?
His father was going to murder him.
He was going to marry her – yup. It wouldn’t solve everything, but it’ll do something. And besides, it wouldn’t have been the first time Adrien thought about wanting to marry Marinette. Sure, they’d dated over a year, lived for almost one, but he was willing to commit the rest of his life to her had she asked him to. He worshiped the ground she walked on, and didn’t care to admit how whipped he knew he was.
The woman of his dream was going to have his baby and he was going to marry her, and then fuck her brains out again. It wasn’t like she could get pregnant twice. Right?
Adrien heard a slam coming from the living room, and he walked out to see Marinette carrying two stacked boxes as she walked toward her crafts room – Alya's old room. She was speaking under her breath as she walked, and without thinking he startled her by instantly reaching for the boxes and taking them away.
“You should have called me; I could have carried these for you!” Adrien said almost anxiously, now walking away from her and taking them the said boxes to the craft room himself, leaving a baffled Marinette staring at him.
She scoffed teasingly, not genuinely upset at his sudden action but rather confused, calling to him, “Adrien, I’m perfectly capable of carrying a couple boxes of fabric up two flights of stairs.”
Her boyfriend came back out, walking towards her to take her hand and gently pulled her into a kiss. She couldn’t help but peck him back, smiling suspiciously, although not minding the lip-action. She chuckled, kissing him a few times before trying to push herself away. To no avail, Adrien’s arms were quicker than her as they wrapped around her lower back to pull her back in.
“What’s the matter with you?” She finally asked, because although this was usually how handsy Adrien could get, even she recognized that it seemed that it was out of nowhere.
“Can’t I just kiss my girlfriend?”
“I mean you can.”
He laughed at her dubious demeanor, pulling her in to kiss her face senseless. His lips smacked her lips and nose and cheekbones and ear and eventually traveled down towards her jawline just before reaching the lobe of her ear where his teeth clanked against her miraculous.
“Okay,” she laughed along, her arms wrapped against the nape of his neck, her legs wobbly like gelatin but very much enjoying the way his lips skimmed certain areas against her skin, “there’s definitely something going on. What’s up, buttercup?”
Adrien led them towards the living room’s sofa, dragging her body down with his, eagerly tangling his long limbs around her body. She smelled sweet, and sweaty, but her vanilla scent was triumph. “Can’t you imagine being like this forever?”
“Uh, yes?”
“You know, for someone in love,” Adrien tsked, “you sound kind of unsure.”
“I’m not unsure about us, just...iffy –”
“Iffy?” He was appalled.
"Yes, iffy! What’s with the romancing, Agreste?”
Marinette was wrapped in Adrien’s arms, her chest tightly pressed against his chest as he was beginning to rest his chin at the crook of her neck, the puff of his nostrils tickling against her skin. It felt nice. Her smile was small, and contained, but the way he held onto her never stopped making her feel wanted.
“Marry me,” He finally said quietly into her skin. His voice was hoarse, almost raspy against said skin as his lips brushed ever so slightly against her as she remained silent for a second too long. It sent shivers down her spine.
The idea of marrying Adrien Agreste had been simmering at the back of her mind since she could remember. But hearing him utter those words was an out-of-body experience. She felt the corners of her mouth tugging into a wide smile, her throat itching to giggle out loud like such a teenager.
Yet, all she could mutter quietly was, “That’s seriously how you’re going to propose?”
“Is that a ‘yes’?”
“Where’s my ring?” She continued to tease instead, tugging herself away, but was proved like many other times that her strength was still no match compared to his.
“I knew you were just interested in my money,” he joked, rubbing his chin against her, merry to be as he was. Engulfed by what it was to be in Marinette’s arms.
“Yes, me and my small apartment just want you for the riches you’ll soon inherit, Mr. Agreste.” And just as she said it, her nose wrinkled disgustingly at the sound of saying Mr. Agreste, considering that was her boss’ name, and of course, her boyfriend’s father’s name.
And all Adrien could do was laugh hysterically at the vey absurd statement that came out of Marinette’s cherry-tasting lips. The lips he kissed again and again.
She gave into his giddy pestering, although it wasn’t pestering at all. She loved kissing him back just as much, and it never ceased to amaze her just how active he was. Of course, she was aware of his very strict diet that consisted of not only healthy eating but exercising. And although she was Ladybug she definitely didn’t exercise just as much; she considered carrying two boxes full of fabric up two flights of stairs the exercise of the day. Sometimes she found herself having to catch a second breath just to keep up.
I don't know why I still follow the Miraculous ao3 tumblr blog. About half the time I see ml salt or Adrien bashing or Alya bashing or something
I think all they do is showcase the recent stories that are submitted into ao3 for tumblr to see? I’d let them know or ask why they showcase that more often.
