A/N: SPICE INCOMING

"It's not faded yet? I'm so sorry." Adrien channeled his best puppy dog face, which admittedly was probably coming across more like a kitten. "I really didn't know it would be bruised for so long."

Marinette did not look half as concerned as he did. "I asked for it, and I think it is getting better."

Surveying the lingering bruise on her neck, he remembered the kiss that caused it and the memory of it lessened his feeling of regret. Slightly. "I'm sorry for being so obedient then."

At that she laughed, "Never apologise for that, kitty cat."

But Adrien had not come empty-handed. Oh, no. He was a much better boyfriend than that. "I brought something to help, but you must never ask where I got it from."

Without further ado, he splayed out a stack of makeup he had borrowed from the makeup department in his last photo shoot. He wasn't sure what foundation would work best, or concealer. So he brought as many as he could. About fifteen different shades were spread out across her bed.

She inspected the closest one, "This is high quality stuff - Chat!" The way she stretched out the vowel in his name (well, his superhero name) was a familiar reprimand.

"Never ask," he repeated with a wink.

She smiled despite herself.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She rushed to her vanity mirror to inspect the bruise as she applied concealer to it, and layered it with foundation. Pulling a container from her vanity, she opened it and dabbed the concealer with powder, covering the evidence of his obedience. "Wow, it's so effective!"

"That's good." The sides of his mouth turned upwards into a grin. "You may want to keep it close by." He pounced at her and smothered the sound of her surprised laughter with a kiss.

Not every time he was over at her balcony or in her room would they spend the whole time wrapped in each other. Adrien felt the need to clarify that.

Yes, he loved to kiss her.

He loved it when she bit her lip.

He loved it when she wore nothing but her lacy little pyjamas and they curled up in bed together, tracing each other's skin.

But he also loved laughing with her.

Learning from her. Things like how to make hot chocolate to die for (who would've thought it would involve a saucepan?), how to knit (a surprisingly relaxing hobby), how to sew (sewing didn't go very well with his claws, but he gave that his most valiant effort until a dozen scraps of fabric later had even patient Marinette suggesting they try something else).

Being with Marinette was as easy as breathing. Her very company was soothing and helped him to unwind. It was hard to put into words how something about Marinette made Adrien feel like it was okay to just be him.

He didn't need to have perfect grades, or flawless photo shoots, or fencing trophies for her to look at him like he mattered.

Whether he was cracking a joke, or eating too much food, or tracing circles on the inside of her wrist - which he discovered she quite enjoyed - he never felt judged, or weighed or insufficient.

Even when he had to bail on their catch ups because of akumas, or when she sinfully dragged down the bell zipper of his suit and he regretfully had to pull away and control his ragged breathing. Basically, even when he felt like he disappointed her and he had to look at her sad little face, as soon as he explained, or apologised, or even appeared on her balcony - her frown would turn upside down and in an instant he was forgiven.

It was incredible.

She was incredible.

So today, he was gonna do it. He was gonna tell her how he felt.

"Marinette?"

"Mmmm." She responded from her desk, where she was designing the latest Jagged Stone album cover. Her tongue was stuck out in concentration so he decided he'd wait a bit so he wouldn't interrupt her creative process.

Half a minute later, she swivelled around in her chair.

"What's up, Chat?"

"I love you." He grinned from where he sat down on her hot pink sofa chaise. "And I just thought you should know."

An endearing blush spread across her cheeks and he quelled the sudden urge to fist pump.

"I- you-we…" she spluttered.

"Yes?" He could almost feel the smugness radiating from his own smile. So he could still reduce her to being a hot mess. Very good information to know.

"But you're not even my boyfriend yet!"

WHAT? Wasn't he? The smile slid off his face like a melting ice cream sundae. He was no expert, but from the very reliable source of too many shoujo animes, he didn't think one kissed a person the way that he had kissed Marinette without some kind of … understanding. Camila Cabello and Shawn Mendes taught him that friends don't know the way friends taste.

She continued, "We haven't had a relationship status conversation yet. I thought we were still… what's before boyfriend and girlfriend... seeing each other?"

"You need something in writing?"

"No." She shook her head. "It's not that. Big things need to be discussed! You can't just assume."

He tried to sit with this new information. And it hadn't escaped his notice that she hadn't said I love you back.

"Okay," he said. "No more assuming." He found himself reaching over to scratch at the back of his head. "I'm very new to this relationship business."

Marinette's face grew a little bashful. "I am too. But you know what? I'm glad I get to experience it for the first time with you."

Adrien's expression turned sly and he waggled his eyebrows underneath the mask. "Marinette, are you asking me out?"

At that she shrieked and covered her face. "This is not what Alya and I rehearsed."

"Wait - You've been talking about me with the Ladyblogger?"

"NO!" She was emphatic. "She… she may or may not have used her journalistic powers of deduction to deduce that I was… seeing someone. But she doesn't know who it is."

Adrien thought he'd discombobulate on the spot if Alya figured out in one fell swoop that her socially awkward classmate was a superhero and dating her best friend.

Marinette continued. "So she was helping me practice having this conversation with you - where we 'confirm the relationship.' She's got a great relationship with Nino…" Adrien noted that Marinette tended to ramble when she got nervous. "Like they're both in my class and serious couple goals so I just wanted to ask her how they went from 'seeing each other' to 'official' because I would like to be official with you."

"I would like to be official with you too." He grinned, lifting her up from her chair and gathering her into a hug. "And let the record show that you're the one that asked me out."

She harrumphed into his chest while he hugged her. Then, he pulled back, still holding her, but far enough that he could now look down into her beautiful eyes, and could see the smattering of freckles on her cheeks.

"And let the record show that I wouldn't have it any other way."

When he was still smiling at her like the goofball he admittedly was, she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him. The kiss began softly, but, as had tended to happen lately - it quickly escalated. Her mouth opened up to him and her tongue sent a thrill through him when it touched his own. He willed his racing heart to calm down, to remember that this was just Marinette. Steady blue eyes. Dark hair in customary pig tails. A smile and a helping hand for anybody who needed it. The girl who sat behind him in class. The girl who gave him his first real kiss. The girl who was a superhero in every way but for the polkadots. His girlfriend.

He intended to savour the experience that was Kissing Marinette, so he tried to slow it down. His back was pressing against the floating staircase to her bed. He tried very hard not to think about her bed. Changing tack, he began to leave trails of kisses along her neck. She arched her head back, and almost sank into his arms with pleasure.

He knew he was losing the battle against himself when he caught himself thinking it would be a waste of all that make-up if he didn't give her a reason to use it.

"Ma-mari- Marinette." She had taken to toying with his bell and exploring the skin at his neck she found there with her mouth, so his attempt at saying her name took a few tries. What kind of reason could he use to slow something down that he wasn't sure he wanted to be slowed? With the thought that it wasn't really fair of him to further their physical relationship with her only literally half aware of who he was, he blurted out, "Can we move to the sofa chaise? These stairs against my back are uncomfortable."

"Oh! Of course, Chat! I'm so sorry!"

He dragged himself away from her unwillingly, and then walked a few steps before sinking onto her chaise lounge.

She followed him, and after he settled down, she settled herself in his lap. They spent a moment there, breathing in tandem. Adrien tried to ignore the pleasure throbbing from his pants.

"Hey Chat," she broke the silence first. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything." He traced swirling patterns into her arm as he held her.

Turning around in his lap, she sat up to face him. "Am I terrible at kissing?"

He knew half his face was hidden by a mask, but he hoped it duly expressed the incredulity he felt at this ludicrous question. "You are terrific at kissing. You are the most amazing kisser I've ever had the pleasure of kissing and I've got video footage of me kissing a superhero so there's that." Even if he didn't actually remember any of those superhero kisses.

"Oh," said Marinette, and Adrien realised that perhaps he had gone down the wrong track.

"Marinette." He reached out to cup her face, being oh-so-careful with his claws. "I dream about kissing you every night. I could spend hours, no- days being liplocked with you. You'd make every second of it exciting." Then he added, "though we may have to pause for water breaks."

When laughter bubbled out of her, he sighed with relief. "What brought on this question, Marinette? Am I a bad kisser? Is this your way of gently bringing up the subject?"

She swatted away his mirrored insecurity with a wave of her hand. "No, no. It's just… I just… " She paused to try and find the words. "Sometimes when we kiss, I get this feeling like you're holding back. Like I want this… more… than you do. That I want you… more… than you want me."

Well. He should've known that he couldn't have fooled Marinette. The cleverest girl in his class.

"I do hold back when I'm with you."

Her head tilted and her eyebrows furrowed with worry at his admission.

"Not because I don't want you. Because I do want you. I want you so much, Marinette. But you don't know who I am, and it isn't fair to you." Then he added, almost as an afterthought, "if you were to look up the definition of sexual frustration on the internet, I think you'd find a picture of me there as an example. Maybe two pictures. Masked and unmasked."

He laughed without humour.

"Marinette, every time I touch myself, I think about you. And though I wouldn't be with you without my mask, some days I really rue having to wear my suit."

She stroked his face - the only part of him not covered by the suit - and he basked in the feeling of her touch. Her skin on his.

Part of him was embarrassed when he felt himself harden at her caress. But another part of himself couldn't bring himself to care. The things she would do to him the day he could unmask around her. He closed his eyes and focused on her delicate hands tracing his neck, his bare skin still exposed from when she'd pulled down his bell.

"Chat, I don't have to know who you are behind the mask to know that I love you." She leaned forward, and with her teeth, she dragged the bell zipper of his suit further down. It tinkled softly as it descended, revealing his chest, then the planes of his stomach, and then even lower until he was dangerously close to being utterly exposed. The suit wasn't really built for erections. "Please don't hold back with me, Chat. Show me."

Adrien gulped.

Her fingers traced lazy spirals on his bare skin, raising goosebumps in their wake.

"There's always been such a skin discrepancy between us." She noted, in an almost intellectual tone totally at odds with the burning heat of her touch on his chest.

He agreed wholeheartedly.

His claws were effective weapons and though he could feel sensation in them, he knew that without them he could feel so much more.

"You're so warm," she remarked as her fingertips traced his bare skin.

"Leather isn't a very breathable fabric, Miss Aspiring Fashion Designer."

"Not even super leather?" she asked, while her hands slid under his suit, dipping low and then lower still until they landed just below the belt line.

His cock twitched as her hands came so very close.

"And you're hot," he added.

Relief and disappointment flooded simultaneously through him as her hands dove up again into safer territory.

"Speak for yourself, Mr." Her fingers traced as she counted, "Eight Pack. What, the regular six pack wasn't good enough for you?"

"These supermodel looks-"

Her head shot up at him.

"Are a requirement for the Superhero Job."

When she giggled in response, he realised that it wasn't his best save. But could anyone blame him?! She was RIGHT THERE.

RIGHT.

THERE.

In an oversized shirt with shorts so small they were swallowed by it.

Straddling him against the chaise lounge.

He wanted her.

No, he needed her.

Like he needed to breathe, he needed her to touch him.

"Marinette." He found his voice. "I can show you how much I want you. If you'd like."

He met her eyes and saw desire reflected back in them. He took a steadying breath, reflecting on the fact that his luck was actually pretty good for an unlucky black cat, because there she was. And she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She nodded then, drawing her hands back in anticipated stillness as she rocked back onto her legs and waited for him.

So Adrien began. "When I'm alone at night… or even sometimes in the morning…" he conceded - especially during those jet lagged days when he'd have to zip around Europe for fashion shows- "I like to stroke myself." He drew his bulging penis out of his suit, and watched her take a sharp intake of breath. Carefully, he tried to demonstrate the stroking with his fingers while leaving his claws out of it, "and think of you."

She watched, her blue eyes the colour of the night sky, and swallowed as he stroked his shaft. Up and down. As he picked up the rhythm, he tried to stop his hips from buckling towards her, but was not able to stop himself from closing his eyes and whispering for her.

He took his hand away soon after, panting slightly, his hardness standing erect between them.

"May I?" she asked.

He didn't trust himself to speak. He could only nod.

Slowly, she circled her hand around his penis. The feeling of her hand on him made him bite his lip to remind himself of his self control. He wanted the memory of her touch burned into him like a brand. With a deliberation that was excruciating and yet exquisite, she brought her fist down, and back up again.

"Marinette." She was going to end him. This was sweet oblivion. He welcomed it. Up and down again.

"Do you...like it, Chat Noir?"

He panted as she found a rhythm.

And wondered if this was one of the things that he vocally had to confirm or whether she could tell by the way his body sang under her touch that she was a goddess with magical hands.

"You're incredible," he got out.

She grinned at him, redoubled her efforts and honestly, that in itself almost sent him over the edge.

"Wait!"

Her hand stilled and she looked concerned.

He took the time to collect himself.

"Wait."

"What's wrong? Are you holding back on me again?" Her tone was teasing, but he could hear a trace of worry in it.

"No. Not at all, Marinette."

"Oh?"

"It's just that… well, I'm a man. It doesn't take much to make me come. And I want to enjoy this time with you."

"Oh. So... slowly?" she grinned up at him, and with deliberate slowness that produced exquisite agony, she moved her hand again. Up and down.

A part of him suspected that he should stop her completely. For one, Plagg would be so pissed.

But how could he deny her?

How could he deny her anything?

"All good things start slow." This he learned not from shoujo, but from Dr Google.

He wished he could give her all of his body.

His suit normally meant freedom. Right now it was a cage of the worst kind. It kept him apart from Marinette.

Well, not entirely apart.

Her fingers squeezed around him.

He throbbed in response to her touch.

Her other hand pressed against his chest, leaning on him as she stroked him. Up and down. The tempo accelerated as she found a rhythm that beat in time with his heartbeat, with his throbbing member, with his stuttering breath.

He wasn't sure whether it was that Marinette was innately talented (which would not surprise him) or whether there was some other physiological difference from his own self-care routine, but he felt himself peaking much faster than usual.

Feeling the pressure building and building, he shut his eyes. And then gasping her name like the prayer it was, he finally found release.

Pleasure shuddered through him in waves.

His whole body felt alight with fire.

It tingled.

It burned.

It was incredible.

And Marinette slowly freed her hand.

"That was great," she remarked and then reached for a tissue.

Adrien was exhausted. He was done.

"You okay, kitty cat?"

He was beyond okay. He was extraordinary.

The same motion felt so different in her hands. How was that physically possible? Literally, somebody had to explain the physics to him. Or maybe it was biology. Hell, maybe it was magic.

"Or perhaps I shouldn't call you that anymore." She winked at him. "Now that I know what a man you are."

His manhood throbbed with the reminder of her newfound knowledge. Ruefully, he grabbed a tissue from Marinette and zipped himself back up.

He looked at her for a moment. In the dark, he could still see every freckle on her face. The teeth of her grin were almost blindingly bright.

"I'm more than okay. I'm yours."

She ducked her head.

"And I have the best girlfriend ever in the whole wide world."

"Girlfriend for one day, huh? I'm doing pretty good."

"Yes, and now it's your turn."

He swooped towards her, lifting her up and swapping positions so now she was reclining against the chaise lounge. And he was there, in her lap.

"Um, Chat," she began nervously. "I'm not sure this will work with your claws. And I've given it some thought. And I was thinking it would be a lot easier if you could… come without the claws. Y'know, unmask. Sometimes."

His mouth hung open.

She wanted to know who he was?

What would Ladybug say?

Why the hell was he thinking about Ladybug at a time like this?

"I'm not sure Ladybug would agree to that…"

"Well, you never know," Marinette countered. "Maybe you should ask her first and see what she thinks."

"Sure. And it'd go something like: hey Ladybug, my girlfriend Marinette deserves to know who I am before I fuck her very, very thoroughly."

Adrien didn't swear very often, but he felt that this was an appropriate time for it.

"Maybe not in those words." Her mouth curved upwards into a small smile. "Hey Ladybug," she mimicked his deeper voice. "I've got a girlfriend whom I love very much. How would you feel if I unmasked around her?"

"Sure thing!" Adrien replied in a higher pitched voice. "Love conquers all! You have my blessing, Chat Noir!"

"Why thank you, Ladybug." Marinette responded in a deep voice.

"Anything to make you happy, Chat Noir," replied Adrien in falsetto.

This made Marinette laugh. "That's a little too far, Chat. I'm the one who's going to make you happy, right?"

He grinned at his sparkling eyed, messy-haired, super-hot girlfriend.

"You already do, my Princess. You already do."

A/N: For my author's note, I'd like to give you a little sneak peak into some feedback Captain Meowvel gave me:

Captain: That works better! It's less "Here's my cock" and more "Hello, would you like to be acquainted with my cock?"

Me: HAHAHA

Me: manners please, Chat Noir

Captain: Edickquette

The puns never stop.