Kiss-Night

Catversation (By Various Means)

MariChat May 23rd: SIN II

(ao3)

Sequel to MariChat May 22nd: Link

Summary: Marinette and Chat define their relationship using actual words. Shocker I know.


Marinette paced back and forth.

Marinette was in her room after having to explain her sudden disappearance to her mother. It was hard to since she obviously hadn’t wanted to mention that she was making out with a freaking superhero. So she made an excuse about wanting to get some clothing scraps and forgetting to text her and surprisingly her mother seemed to buy it.

The only problem left was that she still hadn’t talked to Chat. She just couldn’t handle it. Especially after spending all morning thinking about how they had kissed the night before. When Chat had shown up out of the blue and offered looked at her like that, well, she just couldn’t help herself.

Though being unable to help herself apparently wasn’t enough of an excuse for her little Kwami friend. Tikki had taken to periodically rolling her eyes at her gushing about the kisses and chiding her for not talking to Chat. Marinette didn’t really feel like that was fair. She was definitely going to talk to him. Eventually.

She groaned and threw herself onto her chaise.

If only the silly kitty hadn’t taken her heart in the first place. It was becoming apparent, even to her, that she wasn’t going to get it back. Her heart beat harder and faster whenever he was around and she constantly wanted to be closer to him. It was almost like she had fallen… in love…

Marinette shot up from her chaise and whimpered. “Oh no, I’m in love with Chat.” She realized.

Tikki rolled her big eyes from Marinette’s desk. “Really? You just figured this out now?”

Marinette pouted her cheeks flushed. “How was I supposed to know?”

Tikki shook her little head. “You’ve made out with him twice in two days.” She pointed out.

Marinette remained stubborn with a pout on her lips.

Tikki floated over to her and grabbed both her cheeks. “You even started it both times!” She said mushing the girl’s cheeks together before finally letting go with a harrumph.

“Ow.” Marinette muttered as she rubbed her cheeks. “Fine. I should’ve figured it out sooner. Happy?”

“That isn’t even the point Marinette.” Tikki smiled gently at her. “You need to talk to Chat about this-” She gestured to Marinette with a paw. “—thing, that’s going on between the two of you.”

Marinette looked down. “Okay Tikki, I’ll talk to him.” She looked back up at her Kwami with a confidant smile, only for her to have disappeared. “Tikki-?”

Chat rolled off her bed and dropped onto her floor with a quiet thud.

Smile forgotten Marinette gingerly made her way to the cat and prodded him in the side.

He turned his head towards her. “Stop that.” He said with a pout.

She giggled and poked him again. He growled at her and when she didn’t stop he flipped over, grabbed her arm, and pulled her on top of him. He let his hands rest on the curve of her back.

Marinette was so happy she couldn’t wait any longer. She smiled widely at him. “Iloveyou!” She squeaked out.

The shock on his face made her smile dim slightly. “You what?” He managed to gasp out.

She stared him straight in the eye and smiled nervously. “I lo-um. I loooo-er.” She groaned quietly and let her head drop onto his chest.

Chat swallowed. “Are you trying to say, that you love me?” He lifted her chin so he could see her face.

Marinette answered by pressing her lips gently to his. He allowed it for a moment before she pulled back. “That’s a yes I take it?” He asked.

Marinette nodded, a flush on her cheeks.

Chat chuckled deep in his chest. “I love you too, Princess.” He purred.

Since she was laying across his chest Marinette could feel the chuckle and the purr. She hummed happily in response to his words and smiled so wide it hurt.

Chat grinned back. “So, does this mean you’re my princess now?”

She giggled and pressed a kiss to his chin. “Only if you’re my prince.” She murmured.

“And here I thought I was your knight.” He teased.

Marinette smirked and flicked his bell. “You’re a little higher ranked than that now.”

He purred and flipped them over so that he was above her on his elbows. “Would you say I’m on top of you?” He wiggled is eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes and laughed before putting her hands on his cheeks and tugging him down to her lips.

Chat slowly relaxed into the kiss as his eyes slid shut.

Marinette’s arms fell to the ground and she smiled into the kiss when she heard him purr.

They broke apart a second later and stared into one another eyes as they tried to catch their breaths.

“This feels familiar.” Marinette chuckled.

Chat looked at her confused. “What do you mean?”

Marinette suddenly paled. “Uh, nothing! We’re just kissing again is all!” She said nervously.

“Why don’t we familiarize ourselves further then?” He pressed his lips against her neck and she could feel her breath hitch.

“S-sure.” She moaned. The feeling of his soft lips on her neck was making her head spin.

She couldn’t stop the embarrassing sounds coming from her lips at the heavenly feeling of his gentle kisses and licks. When he copied her bite from yesterday she let out a small mewling sound that made Chat grin against her neck.

To wipe the grin off his face she gently pulled his head back by his hair and forced her tongue into his mouth.

From where she was under him she could feel his purr get louder. As his tongue weaved against her own she buried her hands deeper into his fluffy hair.

Chat pulled back a bit and Marinette’s tongue chased him. This let Chat grasp her tongue and, using his mouth, sucked gently on it. She couldn’t help but moan at the strange feeling. He stopped after a moment and pulled back. A thin string of saliva still connected them.

“So that’s where you disappeared to yesterday.”

Marinette and Chat jumped away from each other at Sabine’s sudden entrance. Once they were both away from each other Marinette tried to desperately wipe away the saliva on her chin while Chat spoke.

“This isn’t what is looks like!” Marinette gave him a look that said ‘Are you kidding me?’ he looked back at her sheepishly.

Sabine smiled and shook her head. “I think you two were kissing. Am I wrong?” She asked coyly.

Marinette sighed, defeated. “Yes Maman, we were kissing.”

Sabine hummed in consideration and used her hand to cover an amused smile. “I’m assuming you weren’t getting scraps to design with then?”

Marinette grabbed at her arm guiltily. “Yes. I mean no I wasn’t.” She looked away from her mother. “I was kissing Chat then too.” She blushed.

Sabine giggled excitedly. Marinette looked at her with dread.

“I see how it is.” Sabine murmured. “Marinette, would your boyfriend mind staying for dinner?” Her eyes gleamed.

Marinette paled. “Of course madam. I would be honored.” Chat said, ignoring Marinette shaking her head rapidly at him. When He finished speaking she groaned in defeat.

“Sounds great!” Sabine said cheerfully. “I’ll call you two downstairs when it’s ready.” She smiled and then added with a wink as she left. “Have fun!”

Marinette turned red. “Maman!” Her mother giggled as she shut the hatch.

The two stood awkwardly for a moment before Chat finally broke the silence. “Boyfriend huh?” He looked at her intensely.

Marinette shifted on her feet nervously. “Yeah, I mean… if that’s fine with you?” She asked, their eyes meeting.

“I’d like that.” He smiled.

youtube

Having some fun making the KISS - CREATURES OF THE NIGHT Devil’s Food Cake, as seen in the hit music video, “I Love It Loud”.

december 31st, 2015, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time. you were talking to a girl and i could tell that you were capturing her with every syllable that left your mouth. and i knew why: you were beautiful and bright, and i was drawn to you even then, like the planets are drawn to the sun.

december 31st, 2015, 11:58 pm: we met standing in line for the bathroom. you introduced yourself, and asked for my name, smiling when i gave it. “lovely,” you murmured, and repeated it a few more times, rolling the letters around in your mouth like a new food.

january 1st, 2016, 12:05 am: i could still feel you on me, your lips, minutes, hours, months later. the clock had struck midnight and you just grabbed me, didn’t ask if it was okay until it was over. you were laughing, brushing it off, all teeth and well-kissed lips, but i knew i saw you blushing. 

january 21st, 2016, 1:12 pm: you got my number through the mutual friend that threw the party. i still don’t know how you got my address. i didn’t remember telling you. you couldn’t tell me, either.

february 14th, 2016, 9:12 pm: you took me out to dinner and bought me chocolate and roses. it was all so cliche, and i loved every second of it. when you kissed me good night, i swore i could feel the rest of my life, pressed right up against my lips.

february 26th, 2016, 11:33 pm: we made it official. i remember how you asked me, how shy you got, like you didn’t know what the answer would be.

march 17th, 2016, 5:43 pm: we spent the day at the saint patrick’s day parade, and you filled yourself with beer and kissed me hard against the bar bathroom door. i drove you home and that was the first time you told me you loved me.

march 18th, 2016, 9:24 am: you called me and told me you loved me again. “i want to make sure that you know i still mean it when i’m sober,” you said.

march 24th, 2016, 1:09 pm: i met your parents at easter brunch. you had demanded i come with you, and i was glad i did. your mother was kind and beautiful, and your father was warm and handsome, just like i knew they’d be. after we’d eaten, your mother got me alone. “he’s never brought a girl home before,” she told me, “normally he isn’t very open about who he’s dating. but you, you’re different. don’t read into this, but i think he may really think you’re special.”

april 12th, 2016, 8:31 pm: you saw me naked for the first time, and you kissed every inch of my skin. i’d never felt that much love from anybody before that night, and i haven’t since. not even you could replicate those few hours.

may 5th, 2016, 4:57 pm: we fought for the first time. i ran into my ex at the grocery store and wanted to chat for a few minutes. you didn’t. when we got in the car, you told me that if i was still in love with somebody else i could just leave, and i told you that you should trust me and not be so insecure about our relationship. we screamed the whole way home and you slammed the car door when i dropped you off. i almost crashed three times on the drive home.

may 6th, 2016, 8:03 am: you came by with flowers and breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you told me, “you just mean so much to me, and the thought of you ever being anyone else’s makes me sick.” i smiled, “but you don’t have to worry about that now. i’m yours.”

june 16th, 2016, 10:51 pm: for my birthday you took me out to dinner and gave me a beautiful necklace with a silver chain and pearl pendant. we drank expensive wine and stumbled back to my place and fucked. i had never been fucked before, not like this. i woke up the next morning with bite marks on my neck and hickeys all the way down my stomach, but you were gone. “had to run,” you’d written on a post it note, “i love you.”

june 18th, 2016, 2: 41 pm: i hadn’t seen you since my birthday and you weren’t picking up when i’d call.

june 19th, 2016, 3:13 am: “ had to run,” the post it note had said. maybe you were running from me. i couldn’t tell if it was the 3 am darkness talking or the part of me that already knew.

july 1st, 2016, 4:01 am: i looked over at you, sleeping in the darkness beside me. when we were together, things felt perfectly normal. but now, i could feel the shifts. “are we falling apart?” i whispered to you, and although i hadn’t expected an answer, the silence broke my heart all the same.

july 4th, 2016, 6:47 pm: we were at a barbecue and i saw you across the crowd, talking to a girl. i saw the way she was drinking up every word that escaped from between your lips, and that’s when i knew. that’s when i knew you weren’t mine anymore.
july 21st, 2016, 7:08 pm: i brought it up to you. “i think we’re starting to grow apart,” i said, “there’s a distance between us that wasn’t here before.” you reassured me that it was all in my head, but i didn’t hear it in your voice. i didn’t see it in your eyes. you knew it was there, too, but unlike me, you weren’t trying to do anything to stop it.

august 10th, 2016, 11:37 pm: i lay awake and thought about what your mother said, all these months later. “don’t read into this.” but of course i did. i couldn’t help myself. fuck, i loved you so much.
august 15th, 2016, 1:12 pm: you invited me over and i discovered that the key you’d given me no longer worked. “i had the locks changed,” you said, “i’ll get you a new one.” it was a lie, and i knew it. you didn’t get me a new key.

september 8th, 2016, 2:00 pm: i caught you cheating. in a desperate attempt to revive the romance we’d had at the beginning of our relationship, i bought dinner and brought it to your place. when you finally opened the door, i saw it written all over your face; the way your eyes widened, the way your jaw dropped, the way your cheeks drained of color. i heard it in the stammer of your voice, the sharp intake of your breath, the grinding of your teeth. when the girl walked up behind you, half naked, asking who it was at the door, i already knew. “how could you?” i whispered, and you just opened and closed your mouth. the girl pieced it together and started screaming. she hadn’t known. i left the food at the doorstep.

september 10th, 2016, 1:49 am: you never called after that, never came by, never reached out, but it wasn’t like we’d needed to confirm anything. i knew it was over, but it took every ounce of willpower i had not to go back to your place and find out why, why everything.

september 27th, 2016, 6:20 pm: i kept finding myself huddled in a ball; in my bedroom, in my kitchen, in my shower. not crying, or yelling. just huddled, clutching my body close to myself, staring. still not understanding.

october 31st 2016, 9:01 pm: i spent halloween haunted by the ghost of you. your face was around every corner. i could still feel your touch trickling down my spine. that night, i lost it. the anger surged through the sadness and bubbled to the surface. i screamed until my throat was raw, screamed at nothing, about nothing, for no reason other than i was too full.

november 10th, 2016, 2:17 am: you called me when you were drunk and i answered. i listened to you ramble, vomiting up apology after apology. near the end, you told me you loved me. “call me tomorrow when you’re sober if you still love me,” i said.  you didn’t. 

november 25th, 2016, 7:15 pm: i went out on a date with somebody new. they didn’t pull me in like you did, but for a few hours, i forgot about you and i felt okay. i drank myself to sleep that night so i wouldn’t have to think about you. the next morning, the hangover hurt more than you did. it was a start.

december 24th, 2016, 8:12 pm: i was spending christmas with my family, and i was doing great until my aunt asked about you. i told her you cheated, but i was doing okay, and then i excused myself and threw up the appetizers into the toilet. i called you then, and when you picked up, i let out a sob. “you ruined me, you fuck,” i croaked, “and you can’t even apologize. not when you’re sober, at least.” there were a few seconds of silence, and then you hung up. i still hope that it ruined your christmas.

december 31st, 2016, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time in months across the crowd. it made me sick to know that even after all that had happened, you were still the most beautiful person in the room to me.

december 31st, 2016, 11:55 pm: you found me in the kitchen. “i wanted to tell you i’m sorry,” you yelled over the music, “and i miss you.” and in those final moments of the year, i thought about it. i thought about letting you back in. the countdown started, and you moved closer to me. and i.. i pushed you away. i turned away from you and said, “no. i can’t.” and i walked out of the room.

january 1st, 2017, 12:05 am: i have forgotten how you felt against me, your lips. and for the first time, i am finally okay with that.

—  a year in review -c.h. // instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)

Hey, it’s me again, subverting your favorite tropes,

So we all know Yuuri Katsuki would be the kind of person who wouldn’t tell you he didn’t like mushrooms and would let you feed him mushrooms three meals a day rather than actually let the words “I don’t like mushrooms” emerge from his mouth

Because Anxiety™ am I right folks

But here we can flip this on its head.

Yuuri loves mushrooms.

Mushrooms are Yuuri’s favorite part of any given dish, which is why he separates them out from the rest usually and eats them last. That’s some excellent fungus right there.

Along comes Viktor Nikiforov, he of the lust-inspiring good looks and astoundingly poor social intuition. He watches the Love of His Life pick the mushrooms meticulously out of his dish and says, “Are you going to eat those?”

Yuuri Katsuki is still in a state of complete and utter stupor at this point, because within the last week two discrete–not discreet, mind you, which they are the opposite of–Russians have arrived uninvited to his fucking house, ingratiated themselves to his family an are currently dismantling the very threads of his existence. One of these Russians is his longtime crush (who is currently occupying most of his time lounging around in a provocative manner all but holding a sign over his crotch that reads Reserved seat for Yuuri Katsuki but Yuuri is a little bit feelings-blind so he’s reading it as Look how beautiful and untouchable I am! If you stare at me too long I will literally scar you like the sun and also I CAN HEAR EVERY THOUGHT ABOUT ME YOU’VE HAD SINCE AGE TWELVE! I’M DISGUSTED!) and the other is the actual inspiration for the My Chemical Romance song Teenagers.

So Yuuri can’t quite be blamed for saying no when Viktor Nikiforov asks him if he’s going to eat his favorite part of the dish.

“I’ll take them, then,” Viktor says, and picks them off his plate.

HOW ROMANTIC, Viktor’s brain screams.

Thus begins Yuuri’s mushroomless existence. Viktor loves Yuuri and wants him to Be Happy Always, and so makes a point to ensure that a mushroom never even so much as winks at his fiance ever again. He doesn’t put them in food and always ensures that, if he’s ordering something for Yuuri, it’s without mushrooms. When a dish shows up with mushrooms in it, Viktor deftly picks them out.

“Excuse me, my husband does not like mushrooms,” Viktor says so often that it could be his catchphrase, or perhaps a nickname. Viktor “My Husband Does Not Like Mushrooms” Nikiforov.

This continues until they return to Hasetsu for a visit and Yuuri’s entire family watches as Viktor picks every mushroom off Yuuri’s plate.

It’s a dish with a lot of mushrooms in it.

“You must really like mushrooms,” Mari says to Viktor.

“Oh, not particularly,” Viktor says, picking away. “But Yuuri hates them, so.”

“Oh no,” Yuuri whispers.

“Um,” says Mari.

“That’s funny!” says Hiroko, smiling and leaning her head on her hand. “Yuuri used to love mushrooms! He stole them while I was chopping them.”

“Wow that’s weird,” Viktor says.

“Yeah,” Yuuri mumbles. “Haha, weird. Yeah, weird.”

Viktor slowly turns his head. His plate is now Mount Mushroom. “Kitten,” he says slowly.

“Ahhhh,” Yuuri whimpers.

“Do we need to have that conversation about communication again?” Viktor asks.

“AHHHHH.” Yuuri attempts to crawl under the table.

The answer, for the record, is yes. They’ve had this conversation fourteen times since Barcelona.

“Why am I like this,” Yuuri whispers to himself later that night. Viktor kisses his shoulder and, when they get back to Russia, makes him a pot of Stroganoff that is roughly 89% mushrooms.

I had a dream that we kissed last night. And suddenly, I prefer sleeping to reality.
—  Dreaming of You (h.c)
There are certain moments in life that make you feel more alive than anything else in the world. Sunsets. Sunrises after you’ve been up all night. First kisses. When you hear a new song for the first time and know that it will be one of your favorites. Waking up on a weekend with nothing to do but be happy. Dancing for the fun of it, alone in your room, knowing that no one can see you and no one can judge you.
—  thinking too much #58
The Signs As Ed Sheeran Lyrics
  • aries: "don't fuck with my love" (don't)
  • taurus: "it burns so bright i wanna feel your love" (i'm a mess)
  • gemini: "we push and pull like a magnet do" (shape of you)
  • cancer: "we are still kids but we're so in love" (perfect)
  • leo: "kissed her on the neck and then i took her by the hands" (galway girl)
  • virgo: "i feel safe when you're holding me near" (hearts don't break around here)
  • libra: "had my first kiss on a friday night" (castle on the hill)
  • scorpio: "no i just wanna hold ya" (give me love)
  • sagittarius: "don't call me baby, unless you mean it" (dive)
  • capricorn: "raise a glass of wine for the last time" (i see fire)
  • aquarius: "let my love in, lay your heart on me" (lay it all on me)
  • pisces: "i didn't know i'd miss you this much" (the man)
When Feyre and Rhysand first meet in A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas

“They were strong hands- warm and broad.”

”There you are. I’ve been looking for you,” said a deep, sensual male voice I’d never heard.”

“Standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.”

“Everything about the stranger radiated sensual grace and ease. High Fae, no doubt. His short black hair gleamed like a raven’s feathers, offsetting his pale skin and blue eyes so deep they were violet, even in the firelight. They twinkled with amusement as he beheld me.” 

“His voice was a lover’s purr that sent shivers through me, caressing every muscle and bone and nerve.” 

“His clothes- all black, all finely made- were cut close enough to his body that I could see how magnificent he was. As if he’d been molded from the night itself.”

“I could have sworn tendrils of star-kissed night trailed in his wake.” 

“The man’s remarkable eyes seemed to glow- with enough of a deadly edge that I backed up a step.”

sleeping with monsta x

shownu

  • is a little shy about his body but had no shame stripping his shirt off the first time he climbed into bed with you
  • skin burns like a heater no matter how cold it is and he still likes to cover himself with the blanket, all the body heat trapped underneath the covers between the both of you makes you sweat
  • likes it when you wear as little clothing as possible to bed because he wants to feel your skin against his
  • wants you to sleep on his chest like minhyuk did in right now but your hair tickles
  • pretends to be annoyed when you press your cold toes against his legs but actually thinks it’s really cute

wonho

  • must have a good night kiss every night
  • cuddles you so tight that you literally suffocate in his big arms
  • sleeps curled around you, with his chest pressed against your back and his legs tucked behind yours. you’re his baby and he’s gonna hold you like one.
  • is a little bit scared of the dark. he feels safer when he can hear you breathing and feel your heartbeat
  • in the winter, he stuffs you into one of his sweatshirts to sleep in but insists that you wear shorts so your legs can tangle together

minhyuk

  • sleeps like a fucking starfish so get used to being woken up in the middle of the night by his hand smacking your face
  • but is so adorable, he giggles and complains about you in his sleep
  • waits until you fall asleep to try to sleep because he tosses and turns
  • wears socks to sleep
  • kicks the blankets off and gets cold so you wake up in the middle of the night to put them back on him

kihyun

  • sleeps with his mouth open and as a result, he drools a little and snores softly
  • loves it when you wake him up by dropping kisses on his parted lips
  • sometimes wriggles out of his boxers/sleep pants the middle of the night (when he isn’t already sleeping naked, that is)
  • often rolls over in his sleep and pulls you closer to him with a little whine
  • usually gets up before everyone else in the dorm but with you, he stays in bed for as long as he can

hyungwon

  • refuses to cuddle you to sleep, but wiggles over until his back is pressed against yours
  • smacks his lips in his sleep
  • in the (slight!) chance he wakes before you do, he’ll just stare at your face with a dopey look on his face that he’ll deny when you wake up
  • always cold. he doesn’t want to cuddle you but by all means hug him (little spoon alert)
  • mumbles in his sleep but you can never figure out what he’s saying

jooheon

  • gets pouty when you hug a pillow to sleep because “that’s what i’m here for”
  • always sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door
  • if he’s in a good mood, he’ll hold you and softly sing you to sleep
  • is a fucking loud mouth-breather (also sleeps with his mouth open)
  • likes it when you wear his shirts to sleep and stuffs his hand underneath to touch your stomach

i.m

  • usually falls asleep in your arms and makes little snuffling noises into your neck/chest
  • scoots all the way to one end of the bed but ends up sprawling across it through the night
  • wants you to comb your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep everrrrryday
  • he’s still pretty young so on occasion he’ll wake up with a problem and sleepily touch himself until you wake up
  • he always wakes up if you leave when he’s sleeping. even if you’re quiet when you come back he’ll be squinting at you and whining about you leaving him alone
Things Happen

Summary: You wake up next to a man you don’t know, in a place you have never been in, not remembering what has happened the night before. What ensues after is hard to believe.

Word Count: 2,256

Warnings: Mentions of drinking and vomit.

A/N: Thank you to @whothehellisbella for her help, you are amazing, Bella! <3 I hope you all enjoy this one :D 

Originally posted by bucky-papichulo


The buzzing in your head was constant and obnoxious. You knew you had been stupid enough last night to drink yourself to stupor. Groaning, you reached for your pillow and instead your fingers threaded through long hair. Some part of you knew that you shouldn’t, but you still gripped tightly and pulled.

A loud yelp pierced through the air before a masculine voice began to curse. There was a sharp sting to the back of your hand and you hissed, pulling it back and cradling it to your chest.

Your eyes fluttering opened, you gave it a few seconds to fully focus on the person before you and you realized that you did not know him.

“Who are you?” you blurted out.

Keep reading

omgchulbulipandey  asked:

I feel like Derek must be legitimately confused when people don't find Stiles attractive. Like Scott will forever remain a mystery to him cuz SCOTT YOU GREW UP WITH HIM WHY DONT YOU WANNA HAVE SEX WITH HIM????

I kind of get the feeling Derek would be relieved more than anything no one has “taken Stiles off the market” before they can sort out their shit than anything else. 

Like, Derek is aware people find Stiles a lot to take (he knows he did, in the beginning) but he is also convinced the moment Stiles escapes to college he’s going to be scooped up by at least a dozen amazing people in his first year and he’ll have missed his chance for good, whatever his “chance” is supposed to be. Stiles is under appreciated in Beacon Hills and Derek sort of, maybe relies on that after he moves away; as he and Stiles grow closer, sending e-mails and postcards back and forth; as Derek realises, fuck, what he was sure would fade in time has only grown stronger. Because how could Derek possibly compare to someone who hasn’t got his emotional baggage? Someone without the tragic back story. Someone who can actually communicate with Stiles in a way he’s always needed, but never quite gotten. 

And Derek hates it, hates the first night Stiles kisses him, the day before his college graduation - tentative and scared - and his first thought is thank god no one ever saw in you what I see. It’s a pretty ugly thought but Derek is certain he never would have stood a chance otherwise. He doesn’t understand how people don’t think Stiles is a great catch, especially now he’s matured; is often baffled (and irrationally angry) whenever someone leaves Stiles’ bed after a one night stand that Stiles had hoped would be something more. He doesn’t get why people don’t fall in love with him the moment they get to know him, even if his sense of humour is astoundingly bad and makes Derek want to punch the nearest wall sometimes.  

He doesn’t get it because Stiles is beautiful. And not just in the way he stands or sleeps or smiles, but in the way he gestures erratically with his hands; in the way he makes those awful, inappropriate jokes at two in the afternoon as he shovels pie in his mouth and laughs, all by himself, despite every shitty thing that’s happened to him. He’s beautiful when he’s tired and sometimes when Derek watches him charge - scared but loyal to the end - at the next fucked up thing that comes their way, he has to remember to hide the fact he can’t fucking breathe beneath a well timed scowl. 

Stiles Stilinski is a mystery to Derek because he’s the most infuriating asshole he’s ever met, and yet if it turned out Stiles was some kind of supernatural creature with angel blood he wouldn’t be surprised because Stiles makes the darkness seem not only bearable, but beautiful. 

Handyman

Handyman (m)

Word count: 9.4k

Genre/Warnings: smut, angst, sub!Jimin, dirty talk

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Summary: Jimin is your landlord’s son. After one stressful day he comes to fix your shower for you. You find yourself constantly thinking about him. Could he be the perfect submissive? (here’s some lovely Jimin moans for the occasion: credit to owner)

I’ve been working on this for forever so i’m excited about it! :)

Keep reading

“Jack,” Bitty whines, throwing his head back. “I am so tired. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Come on, Bits. You’re almost there,” Jack says encouragingly.

“But I’m so sleepy,” Bitty complains. “My arms are heavy. My fning—ah!” Bitty huffs. “My fingers hurt. Listen, I’m slurrin’ all my words.”

“Look at me.”

Bitty spins the desk chair to look at Jack, and pouts.

“You do look tired.” Jack gazes at him, eyes narrowing.

So tired,” Bitty professes. “I’ll finish up tomorrow.”

Jack sighs. “That essay is due at nine am.”

Bitty bites his lip. He’s well aware of that. “Sleep though, Jack. Sleep.”

“You hate waking up early,” Jack points out with a raised eyebrow.

“Once every now and then is fine.” Bitty tries to say it with conviction.

Jack puts his bookmark in his paperback. “How long until you’re finished?” Jack asks. “Referenced and proof-read finished, not first draft finished,” he adds before Bitty can reply.

Bitty shuts his mouth against his automatic response of twenty minutes.

“Uh… Maybe an hour?”

Jack checks the time on his watch, which he’d placed on the bedside table earlier.

“Alright.” Jack stands up and stretches, then gestures for Bitty to come over to him.

“Thank god,” Bitty mutters under his breath, saving his document and shutting the laptop without powering down.

He drags his body over to Jack’s and falls into him. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend and presses his face into Jack’s chest, breathing deeply. He loves how Jack smells. Like soap, and his deodorant, and a little bit of sweat.

Jack’s hands crawl up Bitty’s back, under his shirt, and he rocks Bitty gently side-to-side. Bitty swears he could fall asleep just like this.

Then Jack’s hands start to wander; down to Bitty’s ass, slipping under the elastic of his track pants. Bitty shivers as Jack’s nails scratch the skin, and when he leans back to ask Jack what he’s doing, Jack kisses him.

Normally, when Jack initiates, it’s soft—he appreciates a slow build up. Tonight is different. Jack pushes against Bitty immediately, leaning into him and over him so that Bitty’s body curves back harshly, and Jack seems even taller than normal.

Jack kisses and kisses, his lips moving and sucking on Bitty’s with fervour. Bitty matches him, suddenly wide-awake, and his hands move to bury themselves in Jack’s hair as he attempts to meld his lips to Bitty’s.

“Oh my god. Jack,” Bitty pants and Jack moves on, kissing harshly down his jawline. Bitty’s lips feel swollen and tender when he bites down on one.

Jack pulls back and smiles down, flushed, eyes alight. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” Bitty confesses breathlessly, still reeling from the enthusiasm and spontaneity.

“Awake?” Jack asks.

Bitty nods frantically. “Oh yeah. Definitely. Yes.”

“Good.” Jack steps back from Bitty, and grabs his shoulders to turn him around. He leans in close, chest pressing against Bitty’s shoulders, and puts his lips against Bitty’s ear. “Now, go finish your essay.”

Jack shoves a speechless Bitty back toward the desk.

Keep reading

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
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~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)