[From last chapter…]

Marinette's laughter echoed through the still air of her bedroom. He grinned at his sparkling eyed, messy-haired, super-hot girlfriend of one day. She was wearing a black oversized button down shirt that did very little to cover her legs. Legs which were curled up on either side of him as she straddled him on the sofa chaise lounge.

"I'm the one who's going to make you happy, right?"

It was always her. He was deluded to think that Ladybug could ever mean more to him than this girl in front of him. This girl was a friend when he was lonely, was a homing beacon when he was far from home, and had a strength to her that didn't need a super suit to shine. Her strength went beyond mere muscle and hero-work. It was in her kindness, her surety of who she was and what she wanted.

And she wanted him.

A black cat had never been so lucky.

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

She leaned into his chest, and he curled an arm protectively around her.

"Why do you call me that, anyway?"

"Princess?" He smiled thoughtfully. "Because you deserve to be treated like royalty."

Marinette batted the flattery away with a laugh. "Why not your Queen then? Don't I deserve to be a reigning monarch?"

Adrien spoke with a low voice, trying to invoke the smoulder of Flynn Rider. "I'm afraid to achieve the status of Queen, you must be married."

There was a twinkle in her eye as she responded. "Nah uh, Chat. You're full of it. Queens today don't need a man. Look at our neighbors in the U.K."

"Don't use your smarts against me, Miss Dupain-Cheng. They aren't needed in this conversation."

She muttered under her breath, "I can hardly detach myself from my intelligence."

But superhero hearing meant that even sentences muttered under her breath echoed crystal clear in his ears. So he tackled her, tickling her sides until she fell back against the sofa chaise lounge. She shrieked at the assault, and was huffing at him as he straddled her, pinning her down with both arms on either side of her head.

"I heard that sass, Miss Dupain-Cheng."

"And your solution was to tackle me?" She looked up from underneath him. "Do you like pinning me down, Chat?" There was absolutely nothing innocent about that question.

"Yes," he responded, and ground his hips into her until she was melting beneath him and a groan had slipped from her lips.

He was pressed fully into her when he leaned down to whisper against her ear. "Specifically, according to the deity you worship called the Fashion Gods, to achieve the status of Queen, you must marry me."

Marinette swallowed.

And he darted his tongue down the lobe of her ear, brushing up against her earring and ending at her neck, which he proceeded to kiss.

And then kiss harder.

But she interrupted his attention, blurting out, "We're jumping from courtship to matrimony?"

If she was still thinking, he wasn't doing a good enough job. His reply was almost a growl. "If this is a proposal, then 'I do'". He then used a claw under her chin to turn her head, and to kiss the other side of her neck. All parts of his princess had to be loved, you see. Marinette let out a groan and brought her hands behind his back where he felt her fingering the muscle there. Her fingers then travelled up, slipping into his hair, which she gently pulled. That sensation caused him to almost short circuit. God, no, he had to stop.

He drew back then, noting with satisfaction that he wasn't the only one hungering for more. Her eyes were a dark ocean of desire.

Taking a breath, he tried for nonchalance. "I'm really enjoying our 'confirming the relationship' conversations. Remind me to thank the Ladyblogger."

Laughing, she playfully pushed at his chest. Not hard enough to actually budge him. The push soon turned into her stroking the planes of his stomach through his suit. Closing his eyes, he focused on the touch of her fingers, yearning for her to be touching bare skin instead.

They stayed like that for a moment. Him hovering above her. Her idly tracing twisting patterns on his suit. He sighed, wishing he could give her more—that they could get around this blasted suit without compromising his identity and her safety—then rocked back onto his haunches. Because that's when an idea struck him.

"Marinette, my princess?"

"Yes, my knight in shiny leather armour?"

"This shiny leather armour has claws that don't detach," he began, "but"—he wet his lips—"what if I didn't use my claws?"

He could tell she understood what he was suggesting by the darkening blush of her cheeks. She slowly sat up in the chaise lounge, folding her bare legs in front of her.

"I've imagined…" Her eyes fell down to her lap. "What if it's awful for you?" His princess's voice was barely louder than a whisper, and that would not do.

"Hold up - has the definition of awful changed in the last few minutes?" He shook his head. "Marinette, it would be amazing."

"How would you know?" she shot back at him.

"I've dreamed about it."

"I'll never live up to your dreams!"

"Marinette." He gripped her forearms and met her gaze, which had skittered around the room until it finally landed back on him. "You are better than my dreams. My dreams are my mind's facsimile of my time with you. It tries its best"—he shrugged, unashamed and wanting to be open about his sexuality with her—"but even my wet dreams aren't as good as being with you in person." A thought occurred to him, and he couldn't help the smile that curled up the side of his mouth. "Do you dream about me too?"

Again, it was her complexion that answered him. It gave him such satisfaction, watching that delicate pink colour flood her freckled cheeks.

"Do you dream… explicitly about me, Marinette?" He grinned as she continued to flush, and traced a claw along the inside of her wrist. "Will you tell me about it?"

Adrien had always been open with his feelings, but for a long time Marinette had struggled being open with hers. He paused to give her the space she may need to answer, content to wait for any answer she might be willing to give.

And when she did respond, it wasn't quite what he was expecting. "You make me braver, Chat."

At that, he tilted his heat. "I do?"

"Yes. You do. You make me feel like it's okay to be who I am. To be bold, and to be curious, and to be flawed. To tell you what I want and how much I want it." She patted beside her on the sofa chaise and he settled down beside her. They faced each other, pressed tight onto the same couch, the lamp from her desk illuminating every precious curve on her body. Including the smile on her face.

Adrien said, "You make me feel like it's okay to be who I am too. I don't feel alone anymore. Because you were right, I've got you."

"I'm always right."

"I love that about you."

"I love lots of things about you," she countered.

"It's not a competition," he laughed.

"But if it was, I'd be winning."

"I like girls who beat me up." He grinned.

A smile toyed at the corner of her mouth at his declaration. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and upon reopening them declared, "Okay, Chat, I'm ready to tell you about my dreams."

He tried to school his face into a serene and accepting expression, but felt his heartbeat accelerate in anticipation.

"In my dreams, Chat, we do an awful lot of kissing."

"See, now that's the correct use of the word awful," he interjected. One look at her had him miming zipping his lips. "This is your floor, I'll let you talk."

"This is my couch!"

"I am but a humble guest, bound by the rules of etiquette." When she looked at him, he mimed zipping his lips once more, and added throwing away a key for good measure.

"An awful lot of kissing," she continued. "And, in my dreams, you're not always wearing the mask."

Adrien was extremely curious about what he looked like in her dreams without his mask, but out of respect for the key he threw away, he kept his mouth shut and waited for her to continue.

"You're not always transformed. Although you usually begin transformed before whisking me away to other places. Like I had this dream the other night, when you visited me at school, and then you kissed me up against my locker."

Adrien tried to unclench his stomach. This was an incredible dream. He wanted to reenact it immediately. Sans mask. Or maybe with mask? Which would Marinette find hotter?

Oh God, probably with the mask. She'd probably have a heart attack if she knew who he was behind the mask.

"And I had another dream that happened on a night like tonight. And I thought it was real because you were in bed with me, and you were kissing me, but all of a sudden you weren't holding back. And I realised it was because you didn't have claws anymore. And you didn't have a mask anymore." Then her voice dipped into a whisper. "And you put fingers inside of me and buried your face in me and I climaxed again and again."

Adrien decided then and there that he would quit his day job as a student who moonlit as a model and devote all his time and attention to being Marinette's dream fulfiller.

Marinette turned to him, a smile on her face. "Or maybe that wasn't a dream. Maybe it was my imagination as I…" He could only gulp as he saw her finger travel down underneath her shirt, and could only imagine what it was doing as she took a sharp intake of breath and her eyes closed with pleasure… "touch myself, thinking of you."

He did not know he needed to see Marinette do that, until she did it right in front of him. Now it was all he could think about.

She took her hand away and looked at him, an invitation in her smile.

This he understood. This unspoken language between them conveyed the amount of trust and respect between them.

His lady had issued a challenge and he would answer.

He held up his hands, his claws out and about, and she nodded as she sat up briefly to pull off her shorts. After flinging them into some corner of her room, she lay back down against the couch. Tenderly, he eased her knees apart.

"I already know your fingers are magical," he said, then ran his tongue across his lips, watching her gaze follow its progress. "I hope my tongue does them justice." And then he couldn't speak anymore, because he was pressing a kiss against the wet folds of her vulva.

He was right. The only thing awful about this situation was the awful amount he was going to want to do this to her.

Surfacing only to tell her, "Marinette, you're amazing," he dove in to kiss her again, this time using his tongue - and was rewarded with a moan as she quivered underneath him.

Fuck, she tasted good.

He licked her, his tongue gliding along her intimate wetness, and suddenly all those 'cat that got the cream' jokes made so much more sense.

With the way she breathed his name as his guide, he darted his tongue around her clit (Adrien knew all about the pleasure centre of the female body. Not only did he pay attention in health class, he made it his mission to know. Curiosity. Cat. Hot girlfriend. He was only human.) until she was no longer saying his name, she was gasping it.

She was pleading it.

She was praying it.

"Are you okay?" she managed to breathe out. "Is it okay?"

"Marinette, I would eat you and nothing else for all my days if I could."

"Eat me, Chat." Her command was breathless.

And he happily complied. Her reaction was instantaneous. Her back arched, and her thighs pressed together against his head as her body shuddered with pleasure. He realised she enjoyed it a lot more when he toyed with the area around her sensitive clit, and so he did. Using his tongue, he traced out a love letter, and he lapped up the resulting wetness with appreciation.

His own member started to throb in a pleasant way again as he felt the pulse of her heat in his mouth.

He paused to lick his lips and caught her eye. There she lay across the chaise - breathless, flushed, desperate.

Beautiful.

Brave.

Flawless.

"Chat—" His name was a plea again.

"Friends don't know the way you taste," he husked, hunger thick in his voice. Maybe one day he'd hear her plead "Adrien." He throbbed again.

Using the desire reigniting every part of his body as motivation, he thrust his tongue inside of her, and she gasped as she parted for him.

Flicking his tongue against her produced frantic motion in Marinette who buckled up against him. She moaned, and the sound of her pleasure competed only with the taste of it. He dove his tongue deeper into her, determined to make her feel even better.

Her moans became louder, and breathless.

He became desperate.

More. She needed more.

He lifted her up and she cried out at a volume that would've worried him if he had room in his head for such thoughts.

She clawed through his hair.

And he devoured her.

"Chat!"

He thrust his tongue in again.

"Chat!"

He angled his mouth and sucked on her.

"Chat Noir!"

Words failed her completely.

Her fingers twisted around his hair, gripping at him tightly and scratching at his cat ears. His involuntary shudder was pure pleasure.

Her heavy panting filled the still room, and he looked up to survey his Hot Mess of a girlfriend.

"Ch- Cha- Chat…"

It seemed his Hot Mess of a girlfriend was having trouble speaking.

"I've never felt like that before," she eventually got out. "Ever."

"Maybe being good at giving you pleasure is another one of my superpowers." He grinned and for some reason that made her bark with sudden laughter. So much so that she grabbed a pillow to muffle herself. She then lay back, allowing the pillow to cover her face as a new concern apparently filled her mind.

"Was I too loud, Chat?"

He waited a beat, to listen for any large footsteps trampling up the ladder to her bedroom.

"The coast is clear. Your secret seduction remains discreet."

"Who's seducing who?"

He lay down beside her, and she lifted herself only to nestle again against his arm. "I've definitely been seduced tonight," he declared. "Your coming really turns me on."

Her eyes widened. "But Chat, you just-!"

"I'm a superhero. Who knows what I can do."

A blush settled into her face.

"But don't think about me right now, my princess. I'm as happy as a cat who got his cream."

"You did get your cream."

He licked his lips. "It was delicious. Best meal of my life."

"With only one serving?"

"Are you offering seconds?" his eyes glinted in the dark.

"I…" A pause as she bit her bottom lip.

"Don't tempt me, my princess." Adrien laughed. "I'm going to have to convince people tomorrow that I slept eight hours on a four hour power nap. That takes talent."

She reached up to press a kiss to his eyelids. "Sleep here," she offered.

It was tempting. It was so so tempting.

He could kind of tell by how tempting it was that it was not a good idea.

Yet he lay with her for a while longer, feeling his heartbeat slow, his limbs relax, a stupid smile permanently etch itself onto his face. This would be another part of the luxury of sleeping with Marinette. He could linger in the post-coitus happy feeling that lingered following sexual activity. He'd read about the afterglow stage of sex in his research. That and he was pretty sure Ed Sheeran had written a song about it.

One day, he would very much like to sleep with Marinette. Not just y'know sleep with her. But actually go to la la land. Hit the zzzz's. Be tangled in each other's limbs and have her be the last thing he saw before his eyes shut, and the first thing he saw when he woke up.

Who needed a fancy international supermodel job.

All he wanted was domestic bliss with Marinette.

"Not tonight," he tried not to let his smile be too sad. "Anyway, I need to talk to Ladybug tomorrow too. See if I can sort the identity stuff."

"Will you tell her who you are before you tell me?"

"Does that matter to you?"

"Maybe." She laughed. "It shouldn't matter."

"If it matters to you, my princess, then it matters to me. You will be the first I tell."

Her face softened at his declaration. "How did I get so lucky?" she asked.

"I ask myself that everyday," he replied.

"Come back soon. Please, Chat."

He pushed himself onto his hands, and bent down to press a long, soft kiss onto her oh-so-kissable lips. "I could not stay away."

Author's Note: My plans for this story are drawing to a close soon (I expect maybe two chapters left?), but there are still so many scenes that come to mind that I don't know how/where to fit into this story. I don't know if you've noticed, but this story actually follows somewhat of a tight formula RE chapter title and relationship development. ;)

So, if you're interested in some outtakes let me know! I am dying to write Adrien's attempt at locker room seduction. And I've recently decided to cut a scene involving a blindfold. Which honestly is tragic for us all.