Could you write adrienette (or some variation of the love square) with number 75?
~I’m weak for Marichat, so that’s the love square corner we get.~Tay
“Don’t you dare bite me, I’m mad at you!” 899 words
If you asked either Marinette or Chat Noir how it even started, neither would know what to tell you.
Neither would be able to tell when Chat’s occasional visits turned into frequent ones, or when the jokes about him being a stray cat turned into him acting like one when he was around Marinette, but soon, late night cookies and conversation turned into scratches behind Chat’s ears and him nuzzling beneath Marinette’s chin.
“Are you always this touchy—like tactile?” She’s asked one night. They were sitting on the floor of her bedroom, the light of her lamp turning the room orange. “I mean, even when you aren’t Chat Noir?” He thought for a long while before answering.
“No, but I don’t know if the difference has to do with me outside the mask, or with Chat, or if it’s some combination of the two. It’s not that I don’t like touch when I’m not Chat, it’s just… different, I guess? I mean, there’s not many people to get touch from. Home is… I mean, I have my friends at school, but even that is pretty minimal. I think it’s why I like being around you so much. You fit my level of tactile.” He threw her a smile and she contemplated him for a moment before reaching out and scratching his ears.
“Silly kitty, just looking for scratches.”
“Especially if they come from you, Princess.” He leaned into her hand, and soon, they were both laying on the floor, Chat’s head on Marinette’s stomach and her fingers gently combing through his hair. They whispered about school and tv and the ladyblog until it was late at night and Chat’s miraculous began to beep. Chat groaned and Marinette giggled.
“Sounds like it’s time for a certain stray cat to make its way home.” Chat groaned, pressing his head into Marinette’s stomach. It startled a laugh out of her. “Chat, that tickles,” she hissed, pushing at his head with one hand. He slung a hand over her hip and refused to move. “Chat,” she whined. She felt him smile into her belly.
“Yes, Princess?” he purred smugly. She suppressed a giggle.
“Move, you stupid cat, or I’ll have to get you with a water bottle.” He gasped, scandalized.
“You would insult me so? Punishing me like some hand-biting stray?” Marinette snorted around a laugh, and, despite his tone, she could feel Chat’s grin against her pajama shirt.
“Chat, you are some hand biting stray.” He suddenly sat up, and looked down at Marinette, who leaned up on her elbows.
“Princess, you wound me with your words.” He took one of her hands and pulled it to him. He kissed her knuckles gently. “But, if you are to see me as some hand biting stray,” he looked up from her hand to meet her eyes.
“I should at least earn the title.” And with that, he bit the back of her hand. Marinette jerked her hand back with a snort of laughter, but pulled it too far, slamming her elbow into the hardwood floor. She groaned, clutching her elbow and rolling onto her side. Chat slapped a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter while Marinette swore at the floor, rubbing her elbow while trying to keep from laughing. Chat swallowed back his giggles, and reached out to Marinette, tugging her up into a seated position.
“Are you okay, Princess?” He asked. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Stupid cat,” she muttered. He smiled.
“Want me to kiss it better?” She laughed.
“I don’t trust your mouth,” she said with a smirk.
“Too many teeth.” Chat laughed and pulled her to him in a hug.
“I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to make you hurt yourself.”
“I really will get you with a spray bottle.”
“I could bite you again, you know,” he threatened. Marinette rolled her eyes.
“Don’t you dare bite me, I’m mad at you!” He leaned down and nuzzled under her chin.
“Not too mad, I hope.”
“I don’t know; you bit the hand that feeds you cookies. They specifically say not to do that.” Chat fell backwards in a dramatic swoon.
“Had I known that my chocolate chip cookies would be in danger I never would have bit you!” he cried. Marinette laughed and leaned over him.
“Serves you right, using me for free pats and cookies. And this is the thanks I get.”
“Marinette, you do know I appreciate you, right?” He asked, suddenly earnest.
“Oh, Chat of course. I was just joking, I didn’t mean to—“
“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure. I really do love spending time with you.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back. They looked at each other in the lamplight for a long minute before—
“You should get going, Chaton,” Marinette said as she got to her feet, dusting off her pajama pants and offering Chat a hand.
“Why are you always right,” he asked, allowing her to pull him up. They both went out onto the terrace and Chat perched on the railing.
“Good night, Chat Noir.” Marinette said with a small smile.
“Good night, Marinette,” He responded, smiling in kind. He stood up on the railing and gave her a two-fingered salute, before pulling out his staff and bounding away across the city.