hey guys!
i'm sorry you have to wait this long between chapters, but it's really hard to write AND translate at the same time. i'm currently writing chapter 14 and there are only two or three chapters left so, after this, i'll update you more often—i hope so, anyway.
thank you for your reviews, it really means the world to me!
enjoy this sexy and funny chapter!
"Marinette? Did you hear me?"
Her eyes are fixed on the contents of her plate, looking at the vegetables and at the sauce which is covering them.
Click, makes her fork against the plate. Click, click, click.
"Marinette?"
"Yes?"
"Did you hear what we just said?"
Marinette raises her gaze, meeting her parents'. "I… Sorry."
Her mom sighs, her dad shakes his head. "You seem really preoccupied, lately," he says.
She shrugs, resuming to fiddle with her food. "It's just… school. Between the team and my application for Pratt, it's a bit…"
"Stressful," Sabine completes.
Marinette nods, looking down. She feels her throat tightening and doesn't dare to raise her gaze.
"Actually," Tom steps in, " your mom and I, we were thinking about giving the apartment to you for a week-end. For your birthday."
The knot which is tying her vocal cords loosens.
"Alya told us that you wanted to organize something for your birthday."
Marinette's face straightens up and her eyebrows rise. "Alya said that?"
"Hmmm," Tom confirms.
She can't help but roll her eyes, a little smile appearing on the corner of her lips. "I'm not sure I want to celebrate it."
"Oh, c'mon, Marinette!" Tom exclaims. "It's your eighteenth birthday, it only happens once!"
She shrugs again.
"I still remember the party I threw for my eighteenth birthday!" he says. "It was memorable."
Marinette remembers Adrien's eighteenth birthday.
Memorable, it certainly was.
"Of course, if you don't want to, it's not a big deal," Sabine reassures her, a smile full of kindness in her face. "But I think it would be good for you to release the pressure."
Release the pressure. Marinette isn't sure that it's the most clever thing to do. Because if she starts to release it, she doesn't know if she'll be able to stop one day.
She has to be rational.
"Plus, Alya would be pleased," Tom adds.
She can't stop laughing about the enthusiasm of her best friend. Alya is a real party girl, Marinette knows it well. She loves throwing parties and especially loves to join them.
You owe her that, a voice whispers to her in a corner of her mind.
"I'll think about it."
Marinette doesn't know how she ended up here.
"It's a very bad idea," she says to Alya.
"No, it's a very good idea."
Lying down on her bed, Marinette has her eyes fixed on the window above her. She doesn't answer, but that doesn't mean she's stopped thinking.
After having announced to Alya that her apartment would be free during the third week-end of November—the week-end which her birthday falls on—saying that her best friend has been delighted is a euphemism.
She has exploded with joy.
Just for this sparkle in her eyes, just for this smile on her face, just to see happiness, Marinette has agreed. Agreed to Alya leading her idea to completion, agreed to the idea of celebrating her birthday in a memorable way, agreed, for a night, to put her problems aside.
But agreeing to the idea doesn't mean that she finds it particularly good.
"You know, if you really don't want to, we can still cancel."
Marinette turns her head to Alya. Sat in front of her dressing table, she's meticulously covering her lashes with mascara.
She thinks about the guests already informed, about the decoration already settled, about the food and the drinks already bought, about the joy already established in Alya's heart.
And then, she thinks about herself. She thinks about the fact that, indeed, she really needs to loosen up a bit.
"No."
Alya raises her eyes to Marinette. Her hazel look is enhanced by her never-ending lashes, extended by the makeup which is covering her eyelids.
She's beautiful.
"No?"
"Don't cancel."
A little smile curls up her lips glimmering with orange gloss.
Alya opens her mouth, but changes her mind at the last moment, looking away from Marinette.
She knows the name Alya hasn't dared pronounce. Adrien.
Adrien…
Marinette doesn't know if he'll be here. She hasn't asked Alya, and her friend, noticing her silence, hasn't told her anything about his presence or not.
So, Marinette has ended up convincing herself that he will not come. After all, why would he? She has only pushed him away, assured him that everything was fine, only lied to him, for weeks.
It's been almost a month and a half now since they've discovered each other's identities. Since she has written him the letter. Since everything has been smashed to pieces. More than a month and a half, eight weeks, fifty six days. Hundreds and hundreds of hours spent without making him smile, without talking to him, without kissing him.
She asks herself if he counts the days, too.
Yes, why would he come? His father would never let him, anyways.
But are you sure that she isn't— well, how should I put this… she isn't overplaying her affection towards you for your contacts and your influence?
I would hope she puts as much energy into pleasuring you as she does in securing her future.
His words are still etched into her mind, branded into her heart. She has given up the idea of being one day appreciated by Gabriel Agreste for a while now.
But she can now forget about her wish of respect.
Marinette closes her eyelids, the back of her head sinking into her pillow. How could things get so out of hand?
Barely three months ago, she was probably with Adrien—maybe she was even on top or under Adrien. Or maybe he was behind—
She sighs, pressing her palms against her closed eyes. And today, she's full of secrets, brimming with fear and teeming with questioning.
She just wants all of it to stop, that this voice in her head stops calling her a liar and profiteer and weak.
Ring!
A jolt shakes Marinette's body. Sitting up and the eyes open, she meets Alya's gaze. "It's Nino. I'll be right back."
She lets herself fall on the mattress again. Is she going to have a heart attack every time someone rings her door, painfully asking herself if it's Adrien?
He's not gonna come, she tells herself. He's not gonna come.
And it's probably better like this, anyways. Because, otherwise… Marinette isn't sure she wants to know.
"Hey! Mari!"
Nino's voice instantly warms up her heart. He climbs into her bed and settles next to her, looking at the sky through her window, too.
"Ladybug," he whispers.
"Carapace."
They turn their faces at the same time. Their looks meet and they start to smile, smile, smile… until they burst out laughing.
It's her secret, revealed after so many years. It's the fact that Nino has already been aware of it for months. It's the fact that they have known each other for more than a decade. It's the relief of knowing that one of the people she loves the most on this planet loves her, too, in her entirety.
It's all this situation, which seems so funny, at this moment. So absurd.
She laughs, laughs until the contraction of her abdominal muscles becomes painful. She laughs, laughs until feeling tears dripping from her eyes. She laughs, laughs until she doesn't laugh at all.
She cries. Cries because it's absurd, because she doesn't have to lie to her best friend, because it's her birthday. She cries because she's eighteen today. She cries because Adrien isn't here to celebrate it with her.
"I'm sorry," she sobs against Nino's torso after he has wrapped his arms around her.
"Why?"
Why?
The question repeats into her mind, again and again. She doesn't stop apologizing, but nobody ever asks her why.
Why?
Because she would have wanted to tell him the truth since the beginning. Because she still wants to tell him the truth. Because he doesn't know everything. Because they don't know everything.
Nino doesn't know her nightmares are full of white, blue and red. He doesn't know that an oppressive terror inhabits her: the fear that her nightmare becomes reality, again. And what if Bunnix can't fix everything, this time?
"You do what you can with what you have, Marinette."
Nino is really meant for the power of Protection. If his words which greatly resemble Wayzz's aren't sufficient proof, his strong arms around her body certainly are.
"I'm not mad. I've never been. I'm proud of you. Of who you became."
Marinette closes her eyelids for a moment, allowing herself to feel the reassuring warmth of his words.
"Mari?"
She raises her watery eyes to him.
A smirk on his lips, Nino wipes her tears off with his thumbs. "Happy birthday."
She feels her lips curl up into a smile. A real smile.
"I can't wear this." Her reflection looks at her with skepticism.
"Of course you can."
She looks at the dress falling along her body, perfectly hugging her curves. "I feel naked."
"C'mon, show us!"
"Nino," Marinette sighs.
"He's right!"
Not without a last glance at the mirror, Marinette shyly opens the door of her bathroom.
"Don't laugh, okay?"
"Promise."
Sighing, she walks towards them.
They don't laugh.
The smile which straightens their lips disappears, replaced by wide-opened eyes and a dumbstruck expression.
They share a look and Alya makes her a sign to spin round. Marinette does it—grudgingly.
"Marinette," Nino breathes.
Now her back to them, she can feel their attention focused on the back of her body, bare to the small of her back.
"This dress…" Alya whispers.
"Incredible."
"It's beautiful."
"Marinette is beautiful."
She feels her cheeks warm up with their compliments.
"She is," her best friend agrees.
"Why do you talk like my parents?"
"Because we are, Mari," Alya says, grabbing her wrist to make her turn around again.
"And as your dad, I hope you'll wear this dress 'till midnight, at least."
Marinette sees the deadly glance Alya cast at Nino and frowns. "What do you—"
"Nothing," Alya cuts her. "Daddy talks nonsense, as usual."
A burst of laughter escapes Marinette's mouth, quickly followed by the amusement of her friends.
"I still feel naked," she sighs, meeting her reflection in the big mirror in her room.
The dress is perfectly red—Ladybug red. The satin which it's made of nicely caresses her skin, wrapping her neck with thin straps, moulded to the base of her chest with a draped scoop neck and falling at the top of her thighs.
From the front view, her dress is a little bit risqué because of its low-cut and of the way it perfectly fits the fineness of her waist.
But from the back… from the back, the dress is sexy. An adjective which only very rarely comes to her mind when she looks at herself in the mirror. The only times she ever felt sensual were when she saw herself into Adrien's eyes.
But today, with her back entirely bare down to the small of her back, with her butt perfectly rounded by the delicacy of the material… Marinette feels sexy in her own eyes.
And this aura which escapes from her, this powerful aura… she hasn't realized how much she has missed it.
"It's for your eighteenth birthday, Mari! Eighteen!"
Alya looks at her with admiration, maybe with relief, too. As if she's happy to find againthis halo of strength which seems to glow around her, too.
"If you can't feel naked for your eighteenth birthday, then, when?" Nino asks.
If you can't be irresponsible now, then when? Alya once told her.
They perfectly match, these two. Like two sides of the same coin. Marinette wonders if they think the same thing when they see them, Adrien and she.
"Okay," Alya concludes, "come here."
She signals her to sit in front of her dressing table, and Marinette, a smile at her lips, doesn't complain, this time.
After passing under the brushes and the skilled hands of Alya, Marinette has the impression she has passed into a time machine, too.
Her complexion, usually simply adorned by the pinkness of her cheeks and the freckles spangling her nose, is now more structured. Some light spots contrast with the shades Alya has amplified, sharpening her cheeks, lightly tanning her skin. Her eyebrows are darker than usual, making her gaze more intense. A Gaze which is, by the way, widened by the mascara lengthening her lashes. The focus is put on her lips, meticulously covered by red, which makes her eyes even more blue than they already are.
Her raven hair is gathered in a high ponytail, clearing her face and leaving the bareness of her back perfectly visible.
She really looks like she's eighteen. The kindness usually noticeable on her face is replaced by something more mischievous, more mature. "Wow," she whispers.
"Still up for it?" Standing behind her, Alya gently passes her hands in her ponytail. Her gaze seems to tell her: one word, one word and we cancel all of it.
Marinette smiles at her, really smiles at her. "Yeah," she simply answers.
"Sure?"
"Sure. I just want to have fun and… to think about something else."
Alya nods, and Marinette knows she doesn't need to develop her thoughts for her friend to understand what she means.
Perhaps Marinette should explain what's going on inside her head. Perhaps she should talk about her nightmares. Perhaps she should talk about the way she's feeling sick about the idea of seeing Adam next week, now that Alya has stolen his phone. Perhaps she should talk about the video they've erased the day before.
Perhaps she should talk about all of this.
And perhaps she will.
But not today, not tonight.
Tonight, she's going to have fun.
"Well, there, I have the solution," Alya smiles at her, her hands now on her shoulders.
She gently kisses her cheek and walks away, until opening the trapdoor leading to the rest of the apartment. Nino is already downstairs, and Marinette can hear the hubbub of laughs and words rising from the living room.
"You coming?"
"I'll be right back."
Alya nods, offers her a reassuring smile, and disappears.
Marinette barely has time to start going down the stairs that she's cheered by a tumult of approval.
"Marinette!"
"Your dress!"
"You're so pretty!"
"You really have a great pair of—"
"Kim!"
"What? It's true!"
"You're a lost cause—"
"Speak for yourself."
"Watch your mouth—"
"Don't even start, you two!"
Reaching the last step of the stairs, Marinette has a huge smile on her face.
Everybody is here. Alya and Nino, of course, but also Chloé, Alix, Kim, Rose, Juleka, Mylène, Ivan, Sabrina, Max, Nathaniel and Marc. All these people she loves so much reunited in the same room.
"Thank you," she says, "thank you all for… being here." She feels her heart squeeze when the word all passes the barrier of her lips.
"No tears, Dupain-Cheng," Chloé warns.
"Rose, are you crying?"
"N-No…"
"Seriously," Alix sighs," you're really a crybaby, sometimes."
"Sorry… it's just… all of us being together, it's moving."
"It's okay," Juleka softly answers.
"All of us?" Ivan repeats. "But there isn't—"
"Music!" Alya cuts off.
Still perched on a step, Marinette looks with happiness as the smiles and the laughs spread like wildfire on her friends' faces.
She sighs, evacuating the blighted hope she can't prevent herself from feeling. It's her birthday, her night.
Determined, Marinette initiates a move, before being rooted to the spot by a pair of green eyes.
Adrien is in front of her. He's here.
"You're here," she breathes.
Thanks to her heels and the step on which she's still standing, Marinette is at the same height as him, her gaze perfectly immersed into his.
Her heart is going to come out of her chest, if it keeps beating so fast.
"Of course I'm here," he answers.
Now that he's before her eyes, now that he's real, Marinette feels stupid. Of course he's here.
Because, before being Chat Noir, before being the source of her nightmares, before being the one she has offered herself to, the one who has offered himself to her, he's Adrien. He's her friend.
She feels the corners of her lips curling up.
A smile draws on Adrien's face at the same time.
"Happy birthday, My Lady," he whispers, low enough for nobody else to hear it.
A shiver runs down her spine free of clothing.
Under the makeup covering her skin, Marinette feels her cheeks redden when he puts his lips on it.
"T-Thank you," she stammers.
Adrien's smile grows only bigger.
"I need alcohol," Marinette says.
She firmly puts her glass on the table, attracting Nino's staring. His brow raised, he swallows a last mouthful of what's inside his cup.
"What—"
"I don't care, I just need to—"
"Adrien!" Nino yells, giving him a tap slightly too strong for him to be completely sober.
Marinette feels her heart jump in her chest and her muscles contract more than they already are.
Since the moment she has looked at him, she has felt like she's even more tight than an elastic. Adrien holds her between his fingers, he pulls, pulls, pulls… and she feels like she's getting closer and closer to her breaking point.
She knows it.
"Having fun?"
Adrien nods and a familiar feeling spreads into Marinette's belly when a smile draws on his face. The smile he gives to Nino is genuine.
Seeing him having fun, seeing him happy, even if it's for one night… it's soothing, in a way.
"What about you, Mari?"
She's been staring at him for a while now, and Adrien only smiles more when he realizes it.
"Why do you need alcohol—"
Her eyes teleport to Nino's, making him quiet in a second.
He's hardly ever clumsy. Most of the time, remarks like this one are planned.
Everyone reacts differently to alcohol. Nino becomes extremely goofy.
"Can you just pour me a drink," she grumbles, desperately trying to ignore Adrien's smirk. "Please."
Nino raises his hands and grabs a bottle.
"Something's bothering you, maybe?"
All her body tenses. Adrien has just whispered those five words in her ear. Five words too many.
Oh, no, she thinks.
But he doesn't stop here. Of course not.
With an almost feline grace, he bends to take a cup, pressing his hand on the small of her back to stabilize himself.
Except that Marinette knows that he has a perfect balance. Except that his hand is soft and warm, so warm. Except that she's wearing this damn dress and that her entire back is bare.
Oh, no, no, no…
"Here you go!" Nino says, completely unaware of what just happened. "Take it easy, it's—"
His words get lost in the music and the sound of her pulse beating against her temples.
Marinette grabs her glass and swallows half of what's filling it.
"Strong," Nino completes, facing his friend's expression.
The fire in her throat is so intense that for an instant the one which is spreading in her lower stomach seems almost reasonable, in comparison.
So, she brings her cup to her lips again.
It doesn't go exactly as planned.
In theory, it's a good idea. An idea whose aim is to distract her from Adrien.
Except that Marinette has forgotten to take a very important variable into consideration: everyone reacts differently to alcohol.
She has been drunk only once: on Adrien's birthday, last July.
But her ideas had been pretty lucid, her movements still sure. The few glasses she had swallowed had only been enough to make her more forward than usual.
Which had greatly helped her, at the time.
But today, Marinette doesn't need to become more forward. And she especially doesn't need this aphrodisiac effect that the alcohol is currently providing her.
She probably should've taken that variable into consideration.
"Marinette!"
When she turns around, Alix is facing her. Her sparkling eyes and her rosy cheeks make her even more beautiful. The shorts she's wearing is so blue that it's almost black and her tank top enhances her figure.
The smile she gives her is full of curiosity.
"This is one hell of a dress you're wearing. Did you make it?"
"Hmmm," she affirms.
Marinette remembers the red satin she had bought—she remembers the price, especially. She spent entire days creating this dress, last summer.
Originally, she had made it to widen her portfolio, to increase her chances of admission to a fashion academy after highschool.
But the fabric is so light, so soft, and she feels so confident with this dress that only using it for professional purposes would've been a shame.
"I know someone who's really enjoying it," Alix chuckles.
Marinette creases her eyelids, her brain too groggy to understand the innuendo.
Alix gets close enough to whisper in her ear, "Look at ten o'clock."
"Look at what?"
"Turn your head, dummy."
"Where?"
Grumbling and laughing at the same time, Alix takes her chin, tilting her head in the right direction. Adrien, at the other side of the room, has his eyes glued on her.
Marinette's ideas aren't really clear anymore, but the thought that Adrien isn't smooth at all makes its way through her neurons.
And knowing that he has the real skill of mentally undressing her makes her shiver.
"He looks at you like he wants to eat you—literally."
Adrien's attention drifts to Nino, leaving Marinette almost disappointed. Looking at Alix again, she pinches her lips.
"Like he already did, you mean," Chloé steps in.
Marinette loses herself in the ocean of her eyes for a moment, in the golden curls of her hair, in the skin-tight dress she's wearing for a moment.
Chloé's cheeks slightly redden when she notices Marinette's stare along her body.
Or maybe the alcohol is making her see things.
"It's so romantic, the way he's looking at you!" Rose says.
Alix guffaws, without any restraint. "Romantic? He just wanna fuck her!"
Oddly, her friend's comment doesn't awaken any dislike in her, only desire.
Marinette brings her glass to her lips.
"Alix!" Mylène intervenes.
"Nonsense! You can see the love in his eyes," Rose assures.
"Totally," Juleka affirms.
"Turned on, but in love. How adorable," Chloé says with irony.
"Especially turned on," Alix snorts.
"What about you, Mari?"
Five pairs of eyes turn to her with an almost scary synchronisation.
Marinette takes refuge behind her cup… empty.
"I gotta go—"
Her blood is nothing but lava and the bottom lower of her stomach is nothing more than an erupting volcano.
"I got it." Adrien appears in her field of vision, with his green eyes and his Cheshire grin. With his golden hair and his perfect face.
Marinette isn't sure why, but she's in a mess. In one hell of a mess.
She nods, looking up at him. His fingers—his long, very long fingers—brush hers when he takes her glass from her hands.
And he goes away.
"You can breathe."
Marinette takes a deep breath, a shiver spreading along her back.
"Well, I think we have our answer," Alix smirks.
"She's been in love with him since middle school!" Rose says.
"Maybe, but it doesn't mean that right now, at this exact moment, she's not completely—"
"We get it, Alix," Chloé sighs.
"What? You're jealous?"
"Bullshit! It's ridiculous!"
"Er, well, I am. Marinette is super hot in this dress."
"Thank you," she succeeds in articulating.
"You know, it's your birthday—"
"So if you want Adrien on top of you as a gift, you can ask him."
"Alix!" Mylène gasps. "That's not what I meant!"
"Adrien under you, then."
"Why not behind me."
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng!"
Rose seems indignant, Mylène embarrassed, Juleka amused, Chloé jaded and Alix incredibly proud.
A smile draws on her lips, turning into a laugh.
"Marinette," Rose begins, "have you two already—"
Her sentence remains unsaid.
A large and warm hand settles at the hollow of her back.
"Thank you," she breathes, grabbing the cup Adrien's offering to her. "It's water," she notices after having swallowed a sip.
"It's water," he confirms.
Marinette frowns.
"Drink."
Perhaps it's the tone of his voice, perhaps it's his gaze anchored into hers, or perhaps it's the semblance of reason she has left, but Marinette does as told.
"I drank it all."
"Good girl," Adrien answers, a soft smile at the corner of his lips.
Marinette lets her gaze roam the room, noticing that her friends have left her to join Alya, Nino and Sabrina.
"I'm hot."
"You can remove your dress."
"I'm not removing my dress."
"That's too bad."
She raises her gaze to him again, meeting the mischief sparkle into it. His face is close to hers, so close that she just has to push herself on the tip of her toes to kiss him.
"I think I'm drunk," she sighs.
"I think I am, too."
"Oops." She feels her lips straighten up at seeing Adrien's smile growing bigger. "You know, there's different kinds of drunk. I think."
"Hmmm?"
"You can be a sad drunk, or an angry drunk, or a happy drunk…"
"It doesn't do that to me."
"Me neither," Marinette admits.
Adrien's eyelids slightly crease and his stare becomes darker, all of a sudden. "It's a turn on, for some people," he says.
Marinette nods.
"I think I'm a horny drunk."
"I think I am, too," she answers.
"Oops," he whispers.
They're not smiling anymore.
Marinette closes her eyes for a moment when she feels Adrien's fingers brushing her back, imagining his hand going down, down, down.
She's so hot that Adrien's skin doesn't feel that burning, compared to hers.
His fingers keep brushing along her spine until sliding in her hair. "I like it when you have your hair up," he says with a husky voice.
Her eyes open again, meeting Adrien's dilated pupils. "Why?"
"It's… convenient."
He illustrates his words by closing his hand around her ponytail, strongly enough for Marinette to suck on a breath.
A picture pops in her mind: Adrien, behind her, gripping her hair, his growls of pleasure getting louder with every thrust of his hips.
She's really too hot.
"I—"
"How about playing Never Have I Ever?"
Marinette jumps, sounds becoming louder around her, as if the bubble Adrien has built around her just exploded.
He lets go of her hair, not without caressing her back in passing, turning towards Alya. The black dress she's wearing brings out the red of her hair and the amber of her eyes. Eyes which are still clear and brisk, showing her sobriety.
Unlike Marinette—and Adrien.
Perhaps she has fewer things to forget about.
"I'm in! I've got plenty of ideas!" Alix is delighted.
"We wonder about what," Kim snorts.
"Are you calling me a perv?"
"I'm not calling you a perv, I'm telling you."
Adrien's laugh sends a shiver along her skin.
"Mari, you okay?" Alya asks, getting closer to her.
"I'm hot," she sighs. "But Adrien gave me water, so it's okay."
"What a nice boy," Alya smiles, turning her gaze to him.
"I'm a nice drunk."
"You're lying," Marinette says back, gently tousling his hair.
She wants to slide her fingers through his hair, but what lucidity she has left tells her that it's not a good idea. So she moves her hand away.
And Adrien grabs her wrist, his eyes immersed into hers.
"Mari, Adrien, Alya, come here!"
Adrien makes his fingers run along her forearm when he drops her wrist and Marinette thinks that her room is only one floor above.
She's going to explode.
She's sitting right next to Adrien and her explosion is about to happen. Her fingers are nervously tapping on her thighs and her teeth are biting the inside of her cheek to give herself her composure back.
But that's without counting Adrien's smell a few centimeters from her and his body which doesn't stop brushing against hers.
The desire to scream at him to stop and to beg him to continue bang together, making her breathing even more difficult than it already is.
And Alix's and Alya's smiles aren't helping her, either.
"Mari, it's your birthday, you go first!"
"Uh… I…" she thinks, her eyes fixed on the alcohol filling her glass. "Never have I ever… kissed a girl!"
A good half of the guests takes a sip: Nino, Kim, Max, Ivan, Rose, Juleka, Alix and Chloé.
Seeing Adrien bring his cup to his lips fills her with an odd, prideful feeling.
"Chloé!" Alya gasps.
The one in question rolls her eyes while swallowing. "Calm down," she grumbles, elbowing her.
"Alya and Mari?" Alix asks. "You two never made out?"
"We're together, by the way," Nino mumbles.
"Oh, right."
"You serious, here?"
Alix bursts out laughing at Nino's offended expression, apologizing to him.
"It would've probably happened, otherwise," Alya admits.
Marinette raises an eyebrow, her lips curled up. She feels Adrien sitting up next to her and can't prevent herself from rolling her eyes.
"Not with Mari, she's like my sister, it's weird, but with another girl. I would like to try."
"Yeah, me too," Marinette says.
"Really?" Adrien is surprised.
Her gaze meets his eyes sparkling with curiosity and her lips straighten up only more.
"You could," Chloé then assures. "I know some who would be glad to do it. You too, Alya," she adds when looks turn to her.
Marinette furrows her eyebrows when Chloé's cheeks turn pink. But she doesn't have time to say a word.
"Anyways," Chloé resumes. "Never have I ever… had sex."
A few eyes open wide, a few surprised exclamations burst out. Marinette takes a swallow of alcohol, followed by Alya, Nino, Rose, Juleka, Alix, Ivan, Mylène and Adrien.
"I knew it!" Alix yells, pointing her finger at them.
The cheeks as red as her dress, Marinette feels Adrien tense next to her. "What?"
"They did it together, I knew it!"
"Really?"
"You don't have any proof," Marinette mutters.
Alya presses her hand against her mouth to muffle her burst of laughing. "Sorry," she giggles when Adrien throws a dark look at her.
"Well, it's my turn, then!" Alix says. "Never have I ever had sex with Adrien Agreste."
Marinette turns her face to Adrien, an eyebrow raised. He nods, smirking. And Marinette brings her glass to her lips under the cheering and the screams of her friends.
"I can't tell if I'm more jealous of one or the other," Alix chuckles
Adrien frankly bursts out laughing, quickly followed by Marinette.
"I'm definitely more jealous of Adrien," Chloé says.
"Hmmm… I don't know… Marinette told me things and—"
"Alya!"
"Adrien told me some things, too, and, honestly, Mari—"
"Nino!"
The amusement of the group is only increased by Adrien and Marinette's red cheeks.
"Come on, sunshine, it's your turn," Alya says between two laughs.
"Hmmm…" he thinks, playing with his cup. "Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend."
Marinette shyly looks up at him. His gaze plunged into hers, Adrien takes a generous sip of alcohol.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Marinette imitates him. Goosebumps spread along her body when he puts his hand on the small of her back, contrasting with the warmth which is living in her skin.
"It's so romantic!" Rose exclaims, taking a sip, too.
She's quickly followed by Juleka, Alya, Nino, Mylène, Ivan, Nathaniel and Marc.
Marinette barely hears the remarks around them. Her eyes still immersed into Adrien's, she can only focus on the fingers running along her skin.
Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.
Oh, she really wants to kiss him.
"My turn!" Rose smiles. "Let me think… Never have I ever fantasized about Ladybug!"
She has hardly finished her sentence that she throws herself on her glass, to the general amusement. She's quickly followed by Juleka, Alya, Nino, Chloé, Sabrina, Alix, Max, Kim and Adrien.
Wow, Marinette thinks, feeling flattered and embarrassed all at once.
"Ah, Ladybug," Kim sighs.
"Very popular."
"Why?" Marinette simply asks.
"She's kinda bossy," Alix affirms.
"And she has a great pair of tits," Kim says.
"Kim," Adrien sighs.
"With all due respect, of course!" he quickly adds.
The fact that they're all—or almost all—talking about her without knowing it is very funny toMarinette.
Of course, it's not the first time, but the alcohol running in her blood makes everything lighter.
"Well, my turn," Nino decides. "Never have I ever fantasized about… Chat Noir."
Sabrina, Mylène, Nathaniel, Marc and Alix all take a sip. Marinette, remembering all the nights she has dreamt about the superhero and woke up, sweating, panting and shaking with desire, decides that he at least deserves that, as she finishes her glass.
Around her, silence settles. When she swallows the last drop of alcohol inside her cup, Marinette can feel all the gazes on her.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she raises an eyebrow. "What? Like I'm the only one."
"She's got a point."
"I love drunk Marinette," Alya laughs.
"I'm not that drunk."
"Mari, you just said that you touch—"
"I didn't say anything!" she protests.
"While thinking about Chat Noir."
"I just drank my glass," she mutters, trying to ignore Adrien's hand which is going up along the back of her neck.
"What do you do while thinking about Chat Noir, Marinette?" Kim asks.
"Kim," Adrien grumbles.
"You really are a pain in the ass," Alix says.
"Less than you are."
"Say that again?"
Marinette lets her lips curl up. They really can't spend more than ten minutes without fighting.
But then she feels a warm breath on her ear and all entertainment leaves her body. "What do you do while thinking about Chat Noir, Marinette?" Adrien murmurs.
The pressure of his hand against her nape firms up and she can just close her eyelids, overwhelmed by this warmth between her thighs. "I can show you, if you want." This voice, the one which pronounced these words, gives Marinette a hard time recognizing it. It's so throaty, so husky, so sensual.
Adrien is panting against her ear. "I really, really want you," he whispers.
A new shiver runs along her body. She can feel the satin of her dress caress her nipples, hardened by desire and a moan only audible by Adrien escapes her throat. "Adrien…"
His groan of frustration sounds right up against her ear and Marinette is seriously considering the idea of leaving the party, right now, and locking up in her room with him.
"I've got an idea!" Alya exclaims.
Adrien moves away from Marinette, who eventually opens her eyes again, hit by the proximity of his face. It's so perfectly drawn, from his cutting jaw to his thin lips, from his slightly tanned skin to his angelic blond hair falling before his eyes.
His eyes… Marinette can't look away from them. They're so green, so expressive. She has seen in them the greatest courage, the sharpest anger, the deepest sadness, the most powerful joy and the most sinful desire.
She has seen the most beautiful love in them, too.
"Mari, let me know when you're done."
Adrien's lips, so close from hers, straighten up in a smile which betrays his Chat Noir side and she rolls her eyes, looking at Alya. "It's okay."
"Great! C'mon," says her best friend, walking towards her.
Alya offers her hand to her and Marinette feels Adrien's hand slide along her body when she stands up, brushing her butt along the way.
The rest of the group does the same and Alya hands her a mic, a huge smile on her face.
"I'm not drunk enough for this."
"Yes, you are," Alya contradicts her.
Skeptical, Marinette creases her brows.
"I'll sing with you for the first one."
She'll probably regret this, but, after a sigh, she says, "All right."
"You can run into my arms…"
"It's okay, don't be alarmed…"
"Come into me..."
"There's no distance in between our love…"
"So go on and let the rain pour…"
"I'll be all you need and more…"
"Because…"
Marinette, smiling so hard that her cheeks are becoming painful, keeps singing with Alya, singing until she can't breathe anymore.
"When the sun shines, we shine together…"
"Told you I'll be here forever…"
"Said I'll always be your friend…"
"Took an oath, I'mma stick it out till the end…"
"Now that it's raining more than ever…"
"Know that we'll still have each other…"
"You can stand under my umbrella…"
Her eyes are fixed on Alya's, but Marinette can feel Adrien's burning stare on her.
Once the song finishes, she lets herself fall on the couch, smiling and panting.
"Here." Adrien sits down next to her and hands her a glass of… water. Marinette can't repress a snort. "Shut up and drink," he smiles.
The water runs nicely along her throat, cooling and calming the fire spreading into it. An appreciative moan leaves her lips when she puts the glass down.
Adrien's eyes catch hers right away. She's fascinated by the flame which is burning in them.
A drop of water falls along her mouth, quickly wiped away by Adrien's finger which caresses her inner lip with infinite tenderness.
Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.
Bum-bump, bum-bump, bum-bump, goes her heart against her rib cage. Her pulse is sounding so strongly against her temples that the laughs and the words around them are barely audible.
And this unbearable warmth between her legs.
She definitely needs more than a glass of water to extinguish the fire raging in there.
His thumb is still against her lips, his eyes still buried into hers.
She wants to kiss him. Now. Perhaps it's irrational, reckless, maybe stupid, given the dozen of people around them.
But she knows his lips will be soft, warm and firm against hers. She knows that his long fingers will slide to her nape, pressing his mouth against hers even more. She knows he will moan with his hoarse and throaty voice right up against her.
Oh, she knows.
But she wants to live it. Feel his tongue caress hers, feel his warmth envelop her body, feel his hands run along her curves.
"I really want to kiss you," she whispers, her face getting closer to his.
"Hmmm…" he murmurs, his nose brushing hers. "You should do it."
Without realizing it, Marinette wets her lips, bringing them a little bit closer to Adrien's. A puff of warmth blows between her legs when she feels his fingers press against the back of her neck.
There are only a few millimeters to cross and she'd savor the taste of his mouth against hers again.
His lips are brushing hers…
"Marinette!" Alya calls her.
Adrien barely holds back his groan of frustration. Heart beating, Marinette lets her forehead fall against his shoulder, bathed in his so familiar smell. The smell of honey and almonds—so sweet. But if she focuses more, Marinette can inhale a more musky scent, spicier.
Exactly like him. Angelic and perfect outside, mischievous and seductive inside.
"Marinette!" Nino cries out. "We wanna hear you sing!"
"Do I have to?" she asks, raising her voice to be heard, her forehead still pressing against Adrien's shoulder.
An umpteenth shiver runs down her back when she feels his fingers caressing the hair escaping from her ponytail.
"Yes!" Alix answers.
"Well," she whispers, sitting up, "duty calls."
A smile curls Adrien's lips up and Marinette can't, once again, look away from him.
He opens his mouth, but Alya calls him again and the only sound which finds its way out is a disappointed chuckle.
Marinette stands up—somehow—and walks to her best friend, Adrien's stare on her body.
"Marinette!" Alya and Nino shout out.
"You weren't just about to make out with my best friend on my couch, were you?"
"It's my couch, Nino."
"Oh, right."
She can't help but burst out laughing. Drunk Nino is really funny.
Suddenly, Alya gives her a mic, a smile so big that it shows her teeth. "C'mon, I love it when you sing."
The mix of alcohol, her best friend's smile, Adrien's gaze glued on her and the general atmosphere manages to convince her.
She grabs the mic, a sparkle of determination in her eyes.
A melody begins. Marinette, immediately immersed in the song, removes her shoes—high heels are seriously becoming dangerous—and climbs on the table, laughing with the cheering of her friends.
"I don't care if you're here or if you're not alone…"
Chatting stops, looks converge on her and Marinette keeps her eyes on the TV screen, following the lyrics, letting herself be inundated by the notes.
"I don't care, it's been too long, it's kinda like we didn't happen…"
She sings, sings, enjoying the sound of her own voice.
"I said I won't lose control, I don't want it…"
Lyrics sound in her mind. And she doesn't need to look at Adrien to know that the words escaping her reach him at least as much as they reach her.
"I said I won't get too close, but I can't stop it..."
The tune intensifies and a smile stretches Marinette's lips.
"Oh no, there you go, making me a liar, got me begging you for more…"
Marinette realizes how much she loves to sing.
"Oh no, there I go, startin' up a fire… "
The rest of the song sets her lower stomach on fire.
"You're watching, I feel it..."
Her eyes automatically drift to Adrien who is devouring her with his stare.
"I know I shouldn't stare…"
She can only see his green eyes anymore, darkened by the passion consuming them.
"I picture your hands on me, I think I wanna let it happen…"
A little smile curls up the lips that Marinette is dying to kiss.
"But what if you kiss me? And what if I like it?"
He raises an eyebrow and she lets out a chuckle that reveals her teeth.
"And no one sees it..."
The chorus sounds once again, applauded by her friends.
"Oh no, no, no, here comes trouble…"
Marinette's body starts to follow the song.
"I don't believe myself when I say that I don't need you, oh…"
Her hips are slightly rocking. She can picture Adrien's hands against her, keeping her desperately against him.
"I don't believe myself when I say it…"
Smiles turn into more serious expressions.
"So, don't believe me…"
Marinette sings the chorus again, hit by the reality of the lyrics.
"Oh no, you're making me a liar, 'cause my clothes are on the floor…"
With a voice that she has trouble not to turn into a moan, Marinette says the last words, "Oh no, no, no, another fire."
A second passes.
And a tumult of cheering and applause raised in her living room. Marinette gets off the table, laughing, congratulated by her friends.
"I hope you'll sing at the Christmas show!"
"You'd better!"
"You're awesome!"
"It was incredible!"
"My bestie, ladies and gentlemen!" Alya says, her arm around Marinette's shoulders.
Her heart beating fast in her chest, Marinette can't help but look for Adrien.
"I'll be right back," she stutters when a bustling conversation about the year-end show starts between her friends.
She barely has the time to look around her, walking towards the kitchen that she ends up pressed against a wall. The strength of the impact expels all the oxygen from her lungs.
The room is darkened, compared to the rest of the living room, but Marinette knows very well which hands are laying on both sides of her head.
And those eyes which are staring at her like she's the eighth wonder of the world.
She'd recognize them anywhere.
Nothing needs to be said when Marinette rises on her tiptoes. No words need to be pronounced when Adrien grabs her waist. No syllable needs to be sounded when their faces get closer.
When their noses brush, everything accelerates.
The second after, their lips meet in a burning kiss.
Finally, Marinette tells herself. Finally.
They haven't been this close in weeks. After having spent all summer in each other's arms, not kissing, not touching for so long… it has affected Marinette way more than she'd have thought.
Her skin burns under her dress, so thin that she can feel the warmth of Adrien's hands. Her breathing is already erratic as soon as the kiss begins.
She wants him, she wants him so much it hurts.
She's kissing him with all the passion accumulated in the hollow of her stomach, all the love hoarded in the depths of her heart. His lips are sweet against hers and she can taste the alcohol on them while her tongue starts to look for his.
A moan makes her vocal cords vibrate when he pushes her more against the wall, his hands falling to the small of her back. The second his fingers touch her skin, Marinette knows they have just crossed a dangerous line.
She needs to ease this monstrous burning between her legs. With Adrien's help or not—she has to allay this desire.
His warm and familiar tongue caresses her inner lip before meeting hers in an inflamed dance. Marinette, her arms around Adrien's neck, grabs the hair at the base of his neck—she needs to hold onto something.
His fingers at her spine start to play with the end of her dress, sliding underneath, before going back to brushing the small of her back. Completely out of patience, Marinette sinks her nails into his nape, enough to make him smirk against her lips.
The moment after, he presses his palms against her hips. His left hand falls behind her thigh, going up until firmly resting against her butt.
The mewl which goes up along her throat is, thankfully, swallowed by Adrien's mouth against hers.
Marinette knows she's completely soaked between her thighs when he almost roughly grabs skin between his fingers. His right hand, still against her hip, falls along her thigh, painfully drifts to the inside and goes up, until being completely hidden under the scarlet satin.
Panting, Marinette removes her lips from Adrien's when his fingers reach her core.
Everything hits Marinette at the same time.
The warmth of his right hand between her thighs. The pressure of his left hand against her butt. His eyes which are devouring all of her. The infernal smirk which is stretching his lips. The strand of hair falling before his forehead.
A moan at the limits of the indecency sounds between them.
Marinette takes a few seconds to realize that she has just made this sound.
Adrien raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Someone is very, very eager."
She wants to respond with something clever, but her neurons are completely quiet. The only response she formulates is a new desperate moan when he presses his forefinger against her.
The desire and the alcohol are clouding her thoughts, leaving her in a mist of pleasure when Adrien touches her through her panties.
She could have an orgasm. Against the wall of her kitchen, a few meters from laughter and music. Adrien's fingers pressed against her clit would be enough. She's so aroused and he has missed her so much that a few seconds more and it would be over.
But a strength which, at this moment, is superhuman, makes her find her reason again.
"Adrien," she moans. "Ad— Ah…" His eyes remind her of Chat Noir's so much. "We cant— We can't do—"
The pressure between her legs stops, replaced by a caress along her thigh. And Adrien's grin.
He looks like the cat that got the cream.
"Oh my God, you're annoying."
He answers her by laughing. "I know," he whispers, lowering his face to hers.
The hand against her butt becomes firmer and Marinette closes her eyelids, her inner lips between her teeth.
Adrien's breath is burning against her cheek and his lips are so soft against her jaw, perfectly contrasting with the roughness of his hands.
"Adrien," she whispers, her fingers lost in his hair, "we can't stay here."
"Hmmm…" he murmurs against her neck, spreading goose bumps along her skin. "we can go to your room."
"I can't— shit— I can't leave like that."
His mouth lands on her throat, kissing the skin here. "I'll be quick."
Those four words make her squeeze her thighs, compressing Adrien's hand in the way.
"Just say the word, Mari."
A shiver runs down along her spine. She knows what he means. She only has one word to say and it's just a matter of minutes before he's inside her.
In the same way, she only has one word to say and he'd remove his hands from her body in a heartbeat.
"Okay," she breathes.
She feels him smile against her skin.
Marinette doesn't know how they end up kneeling in her bed. Merely having reached her room relatively discreetly is already a success in itself.
But, with Adrien's lips pressed against her shoulder, Marinette isn't going to stop to clarify this mystery.
At a rate which makes her head swirl, Adrien's suit shirt finds itself on the floor, quickly followed by his belt.
His hair is so soft—both in texture and smell—when it caresses her face. His lips are so loving when they kiss the top of her chest. And his hands, sliding from her waist to her hips, from her thighs to her rib cage, they're so gentle.
She loves when he's gentle, loving and delicate.
She loves repeating this sentence in her mind: Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.
She really does.
There are two buts: first, they don't have the time, if they don't want to be harassed with remarks when they come back, and second, Marinette needs to feel him.
"Adrien," she whispers. "Adrien, we don't have—" A moan replaces her sentence when his mouth goes dangerously down her chest.
"Something wrong?"
"Hurry up," she grumbles, unbuttoning his pants.
"I missed you," he whispers against her ear.
A smile automatically curls her lips up. "We have all night," she murmurs, sliding her hand inside his underwear.
The sound he answers makes her shiver.
Why is it a bad idea, again?
She doesn't give a damn anymore, honestly, especially when Adrien's palms slide along her body when they currently are.
She loses her breath when his hand drifts between her legs. He moves his face back enough to look at her, revealing his golden locks falling before his eyes and his mouth reddened by her lipstick.
The hardness of his crotch against her fingers makes her instinctively bring her hips closer to his. Adrien, smirking, slips his fingers under her panties—soaked.
"I think you missed me, too."
Marinette wraps his member with her hand for answer, applying sufficient pressure to make him quiet.
It's her turn to smile.
But Adrien presses his thumb against her clit and his forefinger ends up inside her.
Either of them are smiling, now.
Marinette loses herself in the enormity of his gaze, letting herself be hypnotized by the way he's staring at her.
She feels strong, for the first time in weeks. If so much alcohol wasn't running in her veins, perhaps she would have hated the fact that it's in the eyes of a man that she's getting back her self-esteem.
But her mind is way too cloudy to elaborate such a thought.
So, she contents herself with maintaining his gaze, enjoying the visible pleasure in his face when she caresses the tip of his member with her thumb.
He raises an eyebrow, a flame of mischief dancing in his irises, and his middle finger meets his other digit, bowing in a way which makes Marinette moan.
It's been barely a minute since the moment Adrien has begun these circular gestures in her clit and these caresses inside her, but Marinette knows she doesn't need another minute to reach her breaking point.
"Adrien," she whispers, her hand going back and forth along his crotch, "I— Ah…"
Her sentence is nothing more than a sequence of unintelligible syllables and curse words when Adrien's hand, until then against her waist, goes up to grab her breast through her dress.
She can only raise the intensity and the speed of her hand.
Lips half-opened, Adrien seems at least as on the edge as she is.
"We should stop."
"We should, yeah," he answers, pushing his fingers always farther inside her.
Marinette removes her hand from his pants, catching Adrien's wrist between her legs.
He eventually pulls his fingers out, letting her shaking with desire and completely empty. A smile floating on his lips, he guides his fore and middle finger to his mouth.
Marinette feels her arousing flow between her thighs when Adrien's tongue starts to lick his fingers covered with her.
His smirk grows and she can't talk.
So, she reaches her nape with her hands, brushing Adrien's against her rib cage, and undoes the only strap which keeps her dressed.
The dress falls along her body in a second, like a blood wave.
Adrien's smile turns from proud to thirsty.
Marinette can't help but roll her eyes, the corners of her lips curled up. The dress meets the rest of their clothes, imitated by Adrien's pants and underwear.
The window before us brings a sufficient light for Marinette to admire the body facing hers.
Yes, he's handsome. Beautiful, even.
It's common knowledge that Adrien Agreste is attractive.
But there's certain parts of his body, certain details that he offers only to her. Like this beauty spot on his lower stomach. Like this scar on his right side.
Like this vein running along his crotch.
Yes, she likes his golden hair and his cutting jaw and his thinly muscled torso.
But she loves these little details.
She loves him. With a strength so intense that she feels her heart painfully beat in her chest.
"Mari? You oka—"
She throws herself at him. Her lips take him by storm and her hands grab onto his shoulders.
Adrien takes a few seconds to kiss her back, his fingers going up to her nape. They kiss with ardor, with his passion which has inhabited them for years.
"Wow," he pants against her lips. "I need you, now."
The desire makes his voice tremble. Marinette nods and turns around, sitting up to reach the shelf above her bed. She takes a condom as fast as her drunk organism allows her.
When her knees meet the mattress again, she feels Adrien's torso against her back, his lips brushing her neck.
A hand around her waist, the other one meets hers, grabbing the condom she's holding.
"Bend over," he whispers at the hollow of her ear.
Marinette feels a hot wave twist and turn in her lower stomach. Her eyelids closed, her teeth biting her inner lip, she bends over, finding herself on all fours on the mattress, her hips pressed against Adrien's.
This contact makes her shiver in pleasure.
A plastic sound tells her that the condom is on, making her heart jump in anticipation.
After all these weeks, all these hours of tension and frustration, finally.
It's still a shame to have lasted that long to give in now, her conscience murmurs to her.
But Adrien grabs her panties and she doesn't care anymore about what she should do, or not do.
Something that good can't be wrong, after all.
So, she bends over even more, moving her butt back against Adrien's hips when his underwear goes the same way as the rest of their clothes.
The tip of his erection gently slides between her legs, caressing her, stimulating her until her moans become too loud to be muffled by the pillow in which her face is sunk.
"Adrien," she groans, pressing her cheek against the cushion.
"A problem, Bugaboo?"
The hand which isn't holding his erection between her legs is grabbing onto her hips, preventing her from backing too much against him.
"You're so annoying, I'm gonna—"
A cry of surprise replaces her sentence when Adrien sinks inside her in a powerful thrust.
Marinette falls back against the mattress, her hips only held up by Adrien's arms around her waist.
"You're gonna… what?"
"Hmpfff…" she pants against the pillow.
Adrien's laugh tickles the top of her back. His lips tenderly kiss her nape before she feels him sitting up.
Marinette squeezes the sheet between her fingers when he moves his hips back from hers… and thrusts inside her again.
It's only a matter of seconds for Adrien's groans and Marinette's muffled moans to fill the room.
For the first time, she doesn't need to ask him to go faster, stronger. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe the almost desperate desire she has read in his eyes, but the power of his thrusts makes her completely incapable of asking herself the question.
The hand which isn't keeping her against him falls along her back to grab her ponytail. He wraps his hand around it and closes his fist, as if he needs to catch himself on something.
A cry escapes her when his hips press against her butt again.
"Mari…" he moans in a voice hoarse from desire.
It's the third time that night she's this close to an orgasm, and knowing that this time, she's going to really feel this wave of pleasure brings her a little closer to her relief.
Suddenly, Marinette is sitting up, Adrien's hand on her neck. His thumb caresses her lips, contrasting with the roughness of his hips. Instinctively, Marinette opens her mouth, letting Adrien's thumb slide into it.
His lips settle behind her ear, kissing every morsel of skin offered to him.
"You're amazing," he whispers, his tongue making its way down her neck.
An endless shiver runs along her back pressed against Adrien's burning torso.
His voice is so sinful. Borderline obscene.
Marinette feels the hand against her waist go down between her thighs. The cry of pleasure which follows it, when he pushes his thumb against her clit, is muffled by the finger between her lips.
"Just a little more," he whispers, thrusting into her, "I'm almost there…"
Marinette is just seconds from her own orgasm, she knows it. Her legs are quivering, her skin is covered by sweat and her thoughts are cloudy in her mind.
So, in a last try to push Adrien over the edge with her, she wraps her tongue around his thumb, lasciviously licking the finger between her lips.
"M'Lady," he moans, his pelvis crashing against her butt.
The moment after, everything explodes. Adrien's cries mix with hers, a tsunami of pleasure hitting them both.
Marinette feels her muscles contract around Adrien's member, feels his nails sink into her hips, feels everything.
She wants to stay in his arms forever, wants to feel him between her legs, against her skin, everywhere, forever.
His thumb goes out of her mouth, his member goes out of her and Marinette weakly falls back against the mattress. Her muscles are as sturdy as those of a puppet, right now.
She doesn't know how much time has passed when she feels Adrien's body next to hers and hears him panting to her right.
Marinette turns her face, sunk into the pillow, discovering Adrien, on his back, a hand on his forehead, his eyelids closed.
Pleasure can still be read on his face.
"I really did miss you," she whispers, staring hungrily at him.
His eyelids open again, revealing the green of his eyes. He removes the hand from his forehead, a smile drawing at the corner of his lips. Marinette focuses on the few soaked strands falling back on his forehead.
She sits up, removes her ponytail, and lets herself fall against the mattress again, on her back, this time.
Adrien's fingers immediately lose themselves in her hair. "I love your hair."
Marinette feels goose bumps on her skin when his knuckles brush her nipple—which hardens straight away.
"We'll have super good-looking kids," he says, his eyes on his fingers caressing her long raven locks.
Her heart jumps in her chest. "Don't say stuff like that."
"Why?" he asks, looking up at her.
She feels a little bit stupid to blush—they just made love.
"Because I'm gonna end up falling in love with you."
Adrien's smile intensifies, his face getting closer to hers. "Aren't you already?"
"I am," she confesses. "Completely."
And, when he puts his lips against hers, Marinette is almost sure he's blushing, too.
It's at this instant, her bare skin pressed against Adrien's and her mouth locked with his, that Marinette promises herself to act.
Perhaps it's the alcohol or the euphoria to have him right against her. Perhaps it's the safety that she'll probably not remember this promise tomorrow.
But she still swears it to herself. She's going to tell him everything, everything. Because she can't handle being so far from him anymore.
Because they're way too happy right now for it to be wrong.
Because her love for him isn't rational or wise.
Her love is burning, passionate, frenetic.
But she loves him. Oh, she loves him so much.
here is it! chapter 10!
i hope you liked the tension and the party and the spicy scene at the end! it was really fun to write!
next chapter is a roller coster of emotions, i can't wait for you guys to read it!
have a good day ^^
lucie