Smut warning, mature content. But that should be obvious in this fic. enjoy

"What?"

Chat Blanc released a long suffering sigh. This woman is really going to make me repeat myself? It was already hard enough to say it the first time.

His floofy ears folded back into his messy blonde hair, and he struck the bed with his tail, causing dust particles and bits of shed fur to take to the air.

"Your... Chaton," he repeated, his voice rumbling with a slight growl. He very deliberately manipulated her fingers to wrap around the belt, before retracting his hands and fixing her with a pointed look.

It didn't last long. He couldn't hold her curious stare, becoming uncomfortable under her mystified expression. Chat turned his cat eyes to the side, his mouth drawing into a tight line that caused his canines to protrude more than usual, which was then delightfully offset by the furious blush staining his cheeks and the tips of his cat ears.

He made another noise, something akin to a chuff and a sigh in the same breath, then whispered a little gentler, "please?"

There was a sense of relief when she finally moved, lifting the belt to his neck, and he noted her hands were shaking the tiniest bit.

Was she nervous too? He curled his tail around to brush the tip of it against her arm. Hoping the affectionate contact would ease some of the tension in her and calm her nerves.

When he felt the leather brush his skin he tilted his head and bared his neck to her.

Please, his eyes drifted shut, relishing the feeling of her fingers ghosting over his throat. He delighted in the thrill as she buckled it around his neck like a collar, locking it in place with the bell, and letting the excess fall across his chest like a leash.

It wasn't tight, not anything that would choke him, but just enough to feel the pressure of the leather if he flexed his neck muscles.

"How's that? Too tight?"

Chat startled her by leaning in and rubbing his face against her cheek. "It's perfect."

"Do I want to know how you learned to be this kinky?" She flicked the bell at his neck to hear it ring, and giggled that sweet bubbling laughter he adored and despised all at the same time. Mostly because he heard it when she was laughing at his antics.

"Curiosity, internet, fanfiction," Chat huffed and nipped her ear. "Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing. Just trying a little bit of everything."

Marinette twisted away from him just enough to make eye contact. "Wait, this really is you first time?"

Chat Blanc sat back on his heels to blink at her, self-consciousness bleeding into his cheeks and making his ears feel unreasonably hot. Why'd I tell her that? What am I? Stupid?

"No!" he countered a bit too defensively. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she saw right through him, and it caused him to withdraw into himself even more.

Vulnerable. You're vulnerable. Why the hell do you make yourself so vulnerable around her?

Something dark and sinister curled his stomach, it's snarl clawing at the back of his throat, and itching beneath his heated skin. It tangled around his consciousness, threatening to drag this softer... weaker Chat under a shadowed icy surface.

"Chaton," she called his pet name like a siren, and even though he kept his eyes fixed on the bed, he couldn't stop his ears twitching in response to her voice.

"It might be expurrimental?" he muttered quietly, that snarling presence in his head receding when he forcefully swallowed back his embarrassment. "but I trust myself to your masterful paws..." Trust her. I trust her.

A sudden force jerked the belt around his neck, making the bell jangle loudly, and successfully recapturing his attention.

Marinette held the long end of the belt in her hand, an autocratic expression glinting in her eyes. She pulled again, causing him to shift forward an inch.

"Look at me," she commanded. His slit pupils snapped to meet her gaze, and she could see them fluctuating in the low light, quivering dangerously between excitement and vexation. "You're wearing too many clothes, Chaton. I want you to strip."

That did the trick, the black quickly overtaking his magenta irides.

She watched him shift carefully as he shrugged the rest of his white suit off of his arms and pulled his hands free. His naked claws glinted, and because he was still looking at her face, he could see the muscles in her throat move when she swallowed hard.

"Th-those aren't just part of the suit then..."

Chat flexed his fingers, before curling them into a fist, digging claws into his palms. "I'm afraid not. I'll have to continue being careful when I touch you."

"And you will," she promised, nearly under her breath but he still heard her.

A thrill coursed through his blood at the way she sounded like Ladybug, self-assured and masterful. And it spurred Chat on as he continued slipping off the remainder of the suit, pushing it from his hips and over his legs, before kicking it off onto the floor to join everything else they'd discarded.

"Better?" He tilted his head to her and flicked his ears, his luxurious tail swishing with anticipation behind him.

"Yes," Marinette nodded, and it didn't escape his notice how she licked her lip. Would she lick it like that after he caught it beneath his teeth? Those eyes, like an ocean storm, dragging over him with appraisal, slowing his breaths as he waited for her to do something... anything. She yanked on the belt again, a little harder this time, prompting him to crawl closer until he was practically in her lap. "Now," she started, and her voice had a throaty quality, "it's my turn to touch."

She wrapped the leather around her fist, once, twice—three times, until her knuckles brushed his throat, drawing his face mere centimeters from hers until her lips just barely grazed his chin.

He swallowed painfully.

Her other hand dropped to cup his crotch, taking his velvet covered balls in her palm and Chat Blanc loosed a moan against her temple.

The position didn't allow for much movement, his arms preoccupied with holding himself up and leaving him unable to touch her. He felt the muscles in his thighs tremble, straining to keep steady, but tensing from the pleasure she caused simply by fondling him.

"Hold still for me, kitty," Marinette purred against his jawline while she massaged his sack. "You're so soft... I could pet you like this for hours."

Chat wanted to obey her, every muscle straining, but his tail, as always, had a mind of its own. The end of it curling with every movement of her hand, and striking the bed when she finally stroked his painfully hard length.

"Ma-Marrri~" he whined and dropped his chin against her shoulder, grinding canines together.

An unguarded inhale, and her scent flooded his senses, sweet, heady, and heavy with arousal. Enough to drive him absolutely insane. Want, rather than the inclinations of a sinister monster, crawling under his skin, itching so badly he gripped the bed to ground himself.

Her fingers, wrapped gently around his cock, were squeezing and stroking and doing terrible things to him until he was panting in her ear. Heat seared the tips of his ears, and sweat caused hair to cling to his forehead while his thoughts grew hazy as all the blood raced to his groin.

She was sweet torture, her touch divine even whilst it caused the flames of perdition to lick his flesh.

"Do you want me?"

"Yesssss."

I've wanted you for so long. The darkness in his head, tainted with magicks, growled its covetous song. A tune his heart began writing the moment he'd first kissed her weeks earlier. Yours... mark her, scent her, bite her, take her.

Hush! He could almost hear her chide within his own mind.

Her thumb brushed the tip of his cock, catching the precum that had accumulated and smearing it over the head. His own fluids making every stroke slicker and more intense. The sensation rendering him gasping between clenched teeth.

She stilled her hand, and he had to swallow a pathetic whine that clawed his throat.

Marinette took a shuddering breath that he felt through their contact, that aura of confidence flickering, and he could hear her lips part a few times before she actually spoke. "I want y-you to fuck me, Chaton," she stated tentatively against his floofy ear, grappling with her words to maintain that confidence from before. "Like... like an akuma."

"Merde," he cursed in a guttural timbre.

"But first," she used her hold on the belt to guide him back until he was sitting on his heels, "I want to ride you."

She's going to kill me before she ever manages to purify me.

A sharp blow to his chest, had him falling back in surprise, the belt in her grip unwinding until his shoulders hit the mattress. That infernal bell sounding against his collar bones the alarm that his voice refused to produce.

Marinette leaned over the edge of the bed, rustling around in the clothing. Before Chat could puzzle out what she was doing she yanked tight the makeshift leash and moved to straddle his legs.

His eyes caught sight of a foil square in her hand, the color red, but she tore the tiny package before he could get a proper look at it.

Condom, his mind deduced, sucking in a breath when she rolled it over his cock. Good call. Smart girl, thinking of the important things even in the heat of desire. He shushed the feral presence that lamented the opportunity to fill her with his seed; to mate her, mark her, and fill her.

His thoughts were cut short because a moment later she sank down on him, the slickness between her legs letting him penetrate her with ease.

Chat may have groaned, but the sound that rang in his ears was Marinette's breathy sigh.

At first he wasn't certain what to do with his hands, and when Marinette lifted up and sank down on him again he could only think to press his palms against her knees. She was hot and tight, and god, she was moving already.

The slow but determined hip movement left him humming his appreciation, and mercifully Marinette took hold of his hands. She started by pressing them to her stomach, and Chat watched her in awe as she guided him. Gliding his finger over heated skin until they closed over her breasts.

Oh. Ohhh...

The tips of his ears must have caught fire, but he willed it away in favor of teasing her nipples.

Her appreciating sigh was encouraging, prompting Chat to tweak one the hard peaks.

"Yes," she praised, "just like that, mon Chaton."

A familiar feeling curled in his stomach, and all he wanted was to hear her praise him again. Emboldened by her words, he continued to massage her chest switching between squeezing, pinching, and kneading, but mindful of his claws. Captivated with every soft hum, low moan, and murmured praise.

Marinette made a circle with her hips, adjusting the rhythm and taking him deeper than she had before.

Chat sucked in a sharp breath and caught her hips, still minding the sharp claws by using his palms to grip her. The intense grinding sensation left his mind spinning, blood roaring in his ears, until all he could do was watch her rising and falling through lidded eyes before his head fell back in concentration.

He couldn't even register his canines digging savagely into his lip.

Marinette jerked hard on the belt again, and Chat keened, baring fangs to the ceiling. Hands flying from her hips, in favor of the bed, where his claws rendered blankets to party streamers.

Please... please, Mari, please.

The edges of his vision danced as he panted for air. A flickering of purple flared before his eyes akin to a busted neon sign, and an intrusive presence ghosted the back of his mind.

GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!

Chat hissed and the butterfly pattern suddenly blinked out.

"K-kitty?" Marinette called to him, concern lacing in her voice.

"Fine," he assured, bucking his hips to encourage her to continue, "so—so fine. But close, so close."

She stilled atop him, releasing the belt so the leather went lax against his throat and pressing her small hands into his chest.

"Your turn."

My turn? He blinked up at her through hazy eyes. My turn for what?

Chat almost begged her to keep going when she rolled off and onto the bed beside him.

She shot him a provocative look under lidded eyes, "Show me that akuma side, Blanc."

He made a grab for her, but she squirmed out of reach making to crawl to the edge of the bed.

Something dark and predatory roused in the back of his mind. The instinct to hunt that which tried to flee smoldered like hot coals beneath his skin.

I don't think so.

Claws caught her ankle and Marinette squealed when he dragged her back across the blankets.

Sitting on his heels, he pulled her back onto his lap, hooking her knees over his hip bones and letting her back fall against the bed. A shift of his hips and he sank back inside her. Marinette moaned, arching her back, and Chat dug the pads of his fingers into her hips, thrusting again.

"Chaat," she gasped, curling her toes in the fur at the base of his tail.

He moved again, angling to hit that spot that made her moan. Again. To make her gasp. Chat bent over her, fighting his own breaths, and nosed a lock of hair from her eyes.

"Little mouse," he rasped out sounding guttural and utterly feral, "there is no escaping me." She wanted to see his akuma side, so he would bare it to her. Gladly.

As if to prove his point, the tips of his claws pricked her skin as he slammed her hips into his own.

"Oh kiiiittty—"

The way she mewled and writhed beneath him brought white hot desire flooding his veins, and Chat began steadily thrusting into her. Her body was clenching around him, making him pant, threatening to break him, and getting him dangerously close to the point he'd been before.

He barely noticed Marinette snake a hand between them, and probably wouldn't have if she hadn't brushed the sensitive trail of fur that ran from his navel down to his crotch. But she did, and his sluggish, lust choked mind finally caught on to what she was doing.

A warning rumbled from his chest.

Chat chased her hand, nudging it aside to replace her fingers with the pad of his thumb.

The moan she loosed when he rubbed it over her sensitive nub almost did him in, making his balls clench so painfully.

"Yes," he rasped, "Yes, yes, please mouse." His breaths fanned her cheek, lips ghosting over her cheekbone, "Who are you in love with?" The back of his mind crawled with the desire to hear her call out for him. As if he needed to sate some narcissistic desire that she preferred him like this. That he was better like this.

"Chat!" she answered without hesitation.

His thumb made a circle, as he rocked into her. So close the muscles in his tail were quivering.

"Which Chat?" he demanded, his thrusts becoming faster, frantic and shallow.

The temptation to bite her and latch on was near overpowering. He wanted to mark her. Well... mark her more than he already had. Wanted to grip her with his teeth so she couldn't get away.

Not that she would.

"Both," she moaned.

"Which... which one?" His teeth raked the edge of her ear. He wasn't sure why it mattered, but the selfish desire churned in his gut like a disease. Choose me!

Whatever her answer it was lost to a pitched cry as she came beneath him. Her body clenching around him was enough to drag him over the edge with her, and Chat sank his teeth into her hair to keep from biting her neck. He came, shuddering and hard. His hips attempting some last few shallow thrusts as he rode out his orgasm.

"I..." Chat gasped into her hair, muscles going limp as he practically melted on top of her. Yet his jaw remained locked.

She was no better, her own ragged breaths and soft hums disturbing the fur on his left ear. The sensation causing his ear to twitch, sporadically.

Chat slackened his clenched jaw, letting go of her hair. "I love y—" he flicked his tongue a few times, annoyed by the strands of hair caught between his fangs.

"Hmmmm?" She buried her noise against him, sounding completely exhausted.

"...Nothing." He finally managed to spit out the last strand of hair, "that was... wonderful."

"Mmmmmm," was her noise of agreement.

Passion spent, Chat's legs vehemently protested his sitting position. He shifted just enough to straighten them out before collapsing, his face buried between her breasts and his tail falling against the bed like a discarded feather boa. And for several long minutes they lay like that, basking in the afterglow and working to catch their breaths.

The sun was gone, leaving the apartment awash in shadows, and the only sound besides their own was the city's ever present soundtrack from the open window.

Marinette's fingers trailed down his spine, coaxing a shiver, and Chat wrapped his arms beneath her.

"Mari..."

"Mmmm?" She still wasn't up to forming real words.

His rough tongue raked the side of her breast.

"We should do that again."

I'm always super nervous about writing smut. And really struggle to write it. So, if you enjoyed this chapter please let me know. Any thoughts and feedback are appreciated.