A/N: WARNING! There is serious sin and violence and suggestion of sexual violence in this chapter. Just so you know. Be prepared. Also, the disclaimer literally no one needs: I don't own ML or its affiliated characters. Le sigh.
Chapter 1: Will You Be My Purr-incess?
Chat decided to make his first move in a semi-public place. He ran the rooftops that morning on Marinette's route to school and spotted her taking a detour to pass through the park gardens. He grinned. All that tree cover was purrfect. He dropped into a maple tree and hung upside down right in Marinette's face, startling her. He grinned as wide as the Cheshire cat when she gave a surprised gasp.
"Hi, Princess. Fancy meeting mew here," he quipped.
"Chat Noir. Not that it's not great to see you, but what exactly are you doing following me around to jump out at me with cat puns before noon?" Marinette sighed, fighting to keep a smile off her lips.
"Oh, you know. Just missed you. We had quite the adventure last night. Wanted to check on you in the daylight hours to make sure you were doing okay. You disappointed about akumas screwing up your date?"
"I'm fine, Chat. And the date was kind of with the akuma in the first place so he didn't destroy Paris. It's sweet of you to check on me, though," the girl assured him.
"Well, that's good to hear, but I think I'd better walk you to school anyway. These streets can be dangerous, you know," he said, happy she hadn't considered it a real date with Nathaniel.
"Chat," Marinette sighed with an eye roll, "At 8:30 in the morning? Really?"
"Alright. I give in. Maybe I just want to spend a little time with you," he confessed.
She raised an eyebrow. "And why would you want to do that?"
"You made quite the impression on me last night. I've seen you around before, but we were never properly introduced. You were a big help with the Evil-istrator. I had no idea that you were so amazing. I feel like I've been missing out."
She blushed furiously. "If only other people saw me that way," she sighed.
"It's their loss, Princess," he murmured sincerely, concern shining in his emerald eyes.
"Thanks," she mumbled. "I've got to get to class."
"I'll walk you," he insisted, flipping over and dropping to the ground on all fours, only to pop up next to her with a sharp-toothed grin and slide an arm around her shoulders.
She gently shrugged it off but smiled at him and let him walk next to her as she strolled to school. They spent a few moments in companionable silence, just letting the beauty of the place wash over them. Something occurred to Chat Noir.
"Hey, this is out of the way from your parents' bakery. Why do you cut through here?"
"How do you know where I live?"
"Occupational hazard," he dismissed. "So, why?"
"I love to grow things. Flowers are something I am passionate about. Plants are just so fascinating. Take these Angel's trumpets, for example. They're hard to cultivate and smell amazing, but ever take a bite out of one and you'll go belly-up," she informed, pointing at the large, dangling blooms.
"Huh. I didn't know that. Teach me more about flowers," he prompted.
So she educated him about the plants until they reached the edge of the park, across the street from school. He watched her face light up as she talked about the different species and their properties. He paid attention to the actual conversation, of course, but it was hard not to be distracted by how cute she was when she was speaking passionately about something.
"That was... nice," Marinette admitted. "I wouldn't mind hanging out again sometime."
"I look forward to it, Princess," Chat Noir purred with a smile. "I'm pawsitively excited."
"Ugh. Perhaps I spoke too soon," Marinette teased. "See you around, Chaton."
"I am a full grown cat, I'll have you know. Not a kitten," he huffed.
"If you can call me Princess, I can call you Chaton. Now I have to get to class."
"Bye, Princess!" he called.
Marinette waved over her shoulder and jogged into the building. She sat in her usual seat, got out her notebook, and made small talk with Alya once she arrived. Adrien skidded into the room seconds before the bell and threw himself into his seat before Mme. Bustier could turn around to notice his near tardiness.
That's odd, Marinette mused. He's usually fairly punctual.
She shrugged it off as a rare occurrence of him being slightly off of his rigid schedule and turned her attention to the beginning of the day's lecture.
Marinette saw Chat Noir only a couple days later, true to his word. Of course, she had seen him in the meantime as Ladybug, but that was a routine fight. She didn't count it. He was as charming and full of cat puns as last time.
His visits became a regular thing. He would drop out of nowhere to stroll with her or sit in a corner of the park or stand by the Seine. She began to really look forward to hearing "Hey, Princess" from over her head. Then she would look up and see his green, slitted eyes sparkling with good humor and his flirtatious cat-ate-the-canary grin. He continued to flirt relentlessly with her, and one day, after a particularly bad day of stuttering around Adrien, she couldn't just tease him back like she always did. Adrien had been paying more attention to her than usual and it had only made her inability to talk to him worse. She had wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, but she hadn't needed a hole to disappear. She was good at blending into the background when she wasn't tripping over things.
"What's wrong, Purrincess? Cat got your tongue?" he joked.
"Oh, nothing, Chat. Just feeling more invisible than usual today," she reassured with a soft smile.
"Who could help but notice you?" Chat asked, seeming genuinely curious.
"Well, this boy I like, for one," she chuckled. "I see him every day, but there are times when I don't think he knows I exist."
"Is this guy visually impaired, perhaps? It may just be that cats have excellent eyesight, but when I'm wherever you are, you're the first thing I see," he said in a tone that was part sincerity and part over-the-top flirting.
Her cheeks flamed. "No. I'm pretty sure that I'm just the exception."
"Pity. The poor fool has no idea what he's missing out on. I know a thing or two about liking someone who doesn't feel the same, so if you ever want to talk about it, I'm around. Just give a catcall," he offered with a warm smile.
Marinette was surprised. She hadn't known any of the flirting with Ladybug had actually been serious. She had assumed that it was just part of his personality. Maybe she could make an effort to be kinder to Chat on patrols and missions. She also felt a flutter in her stomach as he promised to be around to lend an ear to her troubles. It was... sweet, a trait she didn't always associate with the flamboyant and funny feline.
The conversation turned from unrequited love to work at the bakery and what it was like to have cat powers. Ever since that talk, Marinette couldn't stop the niggling idea that maybe Chat's affections were real, though not necessarily true love, still more than absent-minded, habitual flirting with any girl he came in contact with. She'd never seen him flirt with Chloe or any other girl as Ladybug, after all. It was possible that he really liked her.
Of all the reasons Marinette and Chat Noir's relationship could have become more intimate, it was because of a quirk of having cat powers.
Because he'd been spending so much time as Chat lately, he'd noticed more and more cat creeping into his personality, more so as his alter ego than as Adrien. He enjoyed stretching out in warm sunbeams, batting at leaves, and using mock stalking behaviors on pigeons and whatnot. But there had also been a persistent itching under his skin that no amount of scratching could fix. It kept getting worse, but all Plagg would say about it was that cats need a lot of attention. His kwami was often cryptic and unhelpful, but now was a poor time to showcase that particular aspect of the little creature's personality.
He was on patrol one night when it got particularly bad, in a spot on his back that he couldn't reach. He growled in frustration. What could he do? Could Ladybug help him? Maybe she had some side effects with her powers as well and would understand and know what to do. He called her, but like every time that she was de-transformed, it didn't go through. Who else could he turn to?
His mind immediately flashed to Marinette. She'd be shy about it, of course, but she would help him. She had a very sweet and generous nature and liked to aid people in need. And, boy, was he in need. He vaulted over to the roof of the Dupain-Cheng bakery and knocked on her trapdoor. He waited in twitchy agony until she came out, draped in a kimono-like robe over her springtime pajamas. She stared at him quizzically.
"Chat Noir? What are you doing on my roof?"
"I need your help," he groaned.
"With what? Is it an akuma? If it is, you should really call Ladybug. She'd be a lot more useful in this situation."
"No. It's not an akuma. My back really itches in a place I can't reach and it's been driving me crazy for weeks. It's kind of embarrassing, but would you mind to scratch it for me?" he begged with pleading eyes.
"Okay, okay. You don't have to make the sad eyes at me, silly kitty. I don't mind a bit. Where is it?"
He crouched so she could reach it better and directed her to the spot. The second her fingernails started gently scraping over his suit, he sighed in relief. He arched his back against her hand, exactly like a real cat. She giggled at his antics and moved her hand up to between his shoulder blades, drawing her nails in alternating vigorous and lazy circles over his entire back and shoulders. When he purred, like actually purred with a deep rumble in his chest, she laughed out loud. She switched hands and used her liberated right hand to scritch under his chin. He closed his eyes and mewed involuntarily. She dropped to her knees and began petting his head, running her fingers through his hair and over his ears. When they twitched, she gave a startled gasp.
"Oh! I didn't know they were real. They look pinned on," she explained.
"Yeah, they're real. I can feel it when you scratch them and I can use them to hear really well," he answered, stretching deeply on all fours.
"Cool. So, is this okay?" she checked, hovering her hand over his head hesitantly, fingers curled into her palm.
"This is amazing," he assured her. "You really know how to pet a cat, Princess. Could you do it again?" he asked, butting his head against her hand.
"Silly kitty. Of course I can."
She complied and rubbed him all over his face and back. Her fingertips ghosted over his neck and he rumbled like a motorboat again. Without meaning to, he flopped across her lap, but she didn't seem to mind. She hummed a song to herself as she moved her magic hands across his suit. It didn't feel like there was any fabric between them. Marinette was sinfully good at this. She knew all the best petting spots. The only thing that stopped him from keeping her up all night was the beeping of his ring. With a reluctant sigh, he stood and stretched, arms over his head, until his back popped.
"I can't thank you enough for this, Princess, but it's time for me to go."
"Did I help?" Marinette asked kindly.
"Yeah. You helped a lot, actually. I'm feline much better, thanks."
She groaned at his cat pun. "You must be if you're making ridiculous puns again. Goodnight, Chaton. See you around."
"Goodnight, Princess," he murmured, capturing her hand and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.
She turned scarlet. Marinette watched as Chat Noir sprang away across the rooftops of Paris. It had been a surreal experience, but one she had enjoyed. She had always been a cat person, but Maman was allergic, so she had never been allowed to have one. Chat Noir was a person, of course, a boy underneath the mask, a friend. But it still was nice that this kind of made up for all the childhood years where she missed out on showering affection on a kitty cat. She liked having the feline superhero around.
It was a good thing that Marinette liked petting Chat Noir because the first time would not be the last.
He knocked on her trapdoor a week later, looking guilty.
"Hey, Princess. It's bad again. Apparently, cats need petting and I'm no exception, but if you don't want to, I'll understand..." he babbled awkwardly. For once, she wasn't the one stammering.
"Of course I'll help you, Chaton. Any time. Move out of the way so I can come up, silly kitty."
He moved aside with an expression of shock on his face that melted into one of rapture when she broke out the magic hands.
It became a regular occurrence for him to knock four times on her roof to signal that he had come for petting. One such night, it started raining buckets. Chat offered to leave, but she rolled her eyes, calling him a silly kitty and inviting him in.
His eyes widened as he took in all the pink. He honestly hadn't expected anything else from Marinette, but the welcoming, inherently feminine space was very homey. It felt like a very intimate setting, but Marinette treated it like she brought stray superheroes into her room in the middle of the night all the time. She sat down on the chaise lounge and patted the space next to her, beckoning him to come over. He sat a respectful distance away at first, but once she started up with the magic hands, he couldn't help but sprawl across her lap with a contented sigh.
After that night, he would announce his presence with those four knocks and Marinette would call him to come in. He would drop through the trapdoor and sit in a feline crouch on her bed until she sat down on the chaise, where he would join her. His cat-like tendencies continued to become more evident. He would give her affectionate kitty blinks and rub his head against her arm. One time, he tried to twine around her ankles and she nearly fell down. He caught her in his arms and never did that again, only rubbing up against her legs sometimes when the cat came out to play.
He persisted in flirting with her relentlessly and he could tell that she was softening to him. It was clear that she was still pining for whatever blind idiot couldn't see that she was in love with him, though. He had been subtly checking out all the guys in the class, but there was no one that she flirted with or paid special attention to. Who could it be? He found himself jealous of any males she talked to, but he didn't say or do anything to show it. How could he? It wasn't as though he and Marinette were an item, as either of his identities.
He tried to talk to her more as Adrien, to get to know her, but she always squeaked and ran or fumbled her sentences. He was getting to know her pretty well as Chat Noir, though. They would talk during the times she petted him, even though he was very easily distracted by her magic hands. Her favorite color was pink (obviously), her favorite pastry to make was macarons, but she preferred cupcakes to eat, especially with loads of strawberry icing. She liked to sketch fashions in front of the Eiffel tower and stroll in gardens or by the Champs Elysees. She wanted to be a designer when she grew up, and she was trying to teach herself to speak Mandarin. She hated snow, math, geography, and apple juice. She didn't care for TV but was secretly a big fan of horror movies. The American director Stephen King was her favorite. Sometimes it was difficult to remember whether or not Adrien knew these things so he didn't slip up and mention something that only Chat Noir knew.
Nino had noticed how much he stared after Marinette and asked him about it.
"Dude. You've been staring at Mari for like fifteen minutes. You keep sighing, too. What's up with you?"
"Um, nothing. Just thinking that it's weird how the four of us hang out so much and yet I don't really know her that well. I'd like to, but she always runs away from me or screams or something. I think she might be scared of me," he admitted.
"Bro. You're clueless, you know that?" Nino pointed out with an incredulous stare.
"What?"
"Not my story to tell, buddy. But keep trying. I guarantee you that she's not afraid of you," Nino replied with a shake of his head.
Adrien wasn't sure what he meant, but he was encouraged. Nevertheless, he was determined to focus
He was crazy about her, but she still stubbornly resisted his advances, out of some misplaced loyalty to the sap that had no idea how much she cared about him. She stayed "just friends" with him until after a certain incident and what followed it.
Marinette had been working late on a project with Alya and lost track of time. It was late, but she insisted she could walk herself home just fine. If she ran into trouble, she only had to get away long enough to turn into Ladybug and cure the akuma. Marinette walked down the dark and empty streets, thinking about some changes that she wanted to make to a dress she was designing. She suddenly felt a chill up her spine. She stopped dead, looked around, saw nothing. She shivered and resumed walking at a faster pace. She didn't see the meaty hand dart out of the alley until it had snatched her by the collar and yanked her into the shadows.
The big, sweaty fingers clamped down over her mouth so hard she could barely breathe, let alone yell. The man, disheveled and dirty, had a hungry, predatory gleam in the depths of his mud-colored eyes. He licked his lips, smirking.
"Well, what do we have here? A pretty little thing like you out so late all alone? What would your mother think?" he laughed mockingly. "I don't suppose you have any trinkets you'd like to donate to a fellow in need?"
She shook her head mutely.
"Not willing to part with a few bits and bobs? How selfish of you," he sneered.
Marinette said something behind his hand, muffled by the calloused, foul-smelling flesh. He curled his lip and took his hand away by a fraction, making it clear that he would not hesitate to hit her if she tried to call for help.
"I don't have anything to give you. I wasn't carrying any money and I don't have anything of value. Please, just let me go."
"That's a shame. But I don't believe you. I think you have something of value in lieu of money..." he chuckled suggestively, brushing his other hand against her stomach and pressing closer.
Her breath hitched in her chest and her body felt numb and cold with fear while her eyes pricked hot with tears. When he grabbed her hips roughly, she found her voice to scream, but the criminal backhanded her. Her head snapped back into the brick and she saw stars. She blinked in a daze, a small whimper escaping her white lips. She had been so stupid. She had been so focused on akuma super-villains that she had entirely forgotten about the ordinary, base criminals. How could she be so careless?
She was going to die here. She was going to get raped and murdered and dumped in an alley. What would her parents think? Alya? Her classmates? Adrien? And what about Chat Noir? What would he do without Ladybug? How would the rest of Paris fare, for that matter? Surely Tikki would choose a new Ladybug to carry on the name and keep Paris safe, but it wouldn't be her. Chat would be without his partner. He'd be stuck with some new girl who didn't have a clue when he needed someone with experience. Oh, what had she done?
Adrien had been over at Nino's in secret to study for the physics test and was walking down the street, whistling to himself. He loved the city at night. It was quiet and glowing and beautiful. The stillness was a nice contrast to the usual bustle of the daytime. He was about to reach the corner where he would turn to go to the mansion when he heard a choked scream that sounded familiar. He slipped closer and peered into the alley in time to see a thug slap a girl across the face. When it was whipped towards him, he noticed the little black pigtails and the big blue eyes.
Marinette.
He saw red. As much as it killed him to run away, even a short distance, he knew that his Princess needed Chat Noir right now, not Adrien. He released his kwami from his jacket.
"Adrien, I know you're angry, but remember that this is a human, not an akuma. You need to hold back or your strength could seriously hurt him," the little creature cautioned.
"I'm sorry but I can't make any promises. He has Marinette."
"Adrien-" the kwami protested.
"Plagg, claws out."
The attacker had just begun to slide his hand under her shirt when he was suddenly yanked off by someone who yowled in rage. Marinette blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision enough to see her savior.
Chat Noir?
His eyes were hard chips of emerald and his lips were pulled back in a snarl. He looked pissed. The bad guy was splayed across the alleyway, towards the dead end instead of the entrance. Chat moved to put himself between Marinette and the man, baton at the ready. The perpetrator groaned in pain and sat up, looking for who had hit him, holding his sore jaw. His eyes landed on Chat Noir and he visibly relaxed.
"Oh. It's you. See, there's been a misunderstanding, Chat Noir. I'm not an akuma victim, and neither is she. There's nothing for you to do here," the man explained calmly, getting to his feet.
"And you think that makes it better?" he hissed with such venom that the giant took a step back and a flicker of uncertainty crossed the brute's face. "You think that because you are in your right mind when attacking an innocent girl with your vile touch is going to make me less angry with you? If that is the case, you are sorely mistaken. I. Am. Furious. And you are not laying another finger on this girl ever again."
"Whoa, man. Take it easy. I was just-"
"Attempting sexual assault? Yeah, I noticed that. It's kind of what I'm mad about, actually," he interrupted.
"Look, normal crime isn't your job. Why don't you just run along like a good kitty and let me finish-"
The rest of the slimy man's words were cut off with a strangled gurgle. Chat had moved quick as lightning and pinned him by the throat to the wall opposite from the one Marinette was frozen against. His claws gouged into the skin of the attacker's neck so deeply that rivulets of blood dripped down his black glove. The huge guy desperately tried to shove Chat away, but it was no use. There was a deadly gleam in his eye and he grinned in a way that unsettled the criminal, pointed canines peeking out from between his curled lips.
"Let me explain something to you, you pathetic piece of filth," Chat growled. "Cats are very protective of things that belong to us. Mess with those things, and we will make you regret it. So, basically- this girl is under my personal protection. She is mine, and should I catch you or any other lowlifes so much as looking at her, I will shred you into pieces strip by strip until there are only scraps left. Is that understood?"
The man nodded and Chat released him. His feet thumped to the concrete and he nearly lost his balance. Marinette hadn't realized that Chat had been holding him so high off the ground. Chat turned to her to ask if she was alright, but the man had pulled a knife and made as if to swipe it at him. She called a warning that was ubiquitous. Chat turned and twisted the hand holding the weapon so hard and swift that Marinette heard an audible snap. The man screamed, but the sound stopped when Chat punched him in the stomach, making him gag, desperately searching for breath. The man stumbled back, but Chat wasn't done. He punched the attacker again and again, pummeling him until he crumpled to the ground. He slashed his claws across the man's chest viciously, spraying blood across the bricks. There were four neat lacerations in a set of diagonal lines reaching from his right shoulder to his left hip. The villain was unconscious at last, and Chat, breathing heavily, turned to Marinette.
His first thought was her safety. The second was worry that she would be afraid of him. He'd never hurt anyone like that before, never gone that far. And this wasn't even an akuma. Would she be disappointed in him? But he found no judgement or fear in her eyes, only surprise, exhaustion, and tension. And shame, as she fumbled the button to her jeans closed. He burned with rage anew at the criminal who had dared lay hands on Marinette. But he had to stay calm. The last thing she needed was for him to be intimidating or visibly livid. She was shaken enough as it was.
"Princess?" he asked hesitantly. "You okay?"
"Yes. No? Not really," she sighed. "Will you take me home? I don't- I don't want to walk by myself. I'm scared."
"Absolutely, Princess. I'm right here," he reassured her, stepping closer and sliding an arm around her waist.
She clung to him like a life raft as they pole vaulted over rooftops to her own terrace. He didn't let go of her until they were in her bedroom. He looked over her. Her cheek had a bruise beginning and he fought back the impulse to go back and tear that creep apart. Her pigtails were askew and she was trembling. He wanted to comfort her, but she wouldn't want him to after what he did. He didn't regret it. He'd kept her safe. That was more important than the fact that he'd beaten a man half to death. He wasn't sorry. The monster deserved it.
"Marinette? If you're doing alright, I can go. I'll just patrol around your house for a bit to make sure the perimeter is secure," he promised.
He turned to go, but Marinette grabbed his hand. The one with that guy's blood on it. She didn't seem to care. Her eyes were pleading and sparkled with moisture.
"Please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone. I'd feel safer if you stayed, as long as you can. Please," she repeated.
"You aren't upset about what I did to that man?"
She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I- I've never seen you like that before, but no. I'm not upset. He would have done worse to me. You saved my life. Again. I don't want to be alone," she reiterated. "I need you."
"Okay, Princess. It's okay. I'm here."
She collapsed into his arms, sobbing. He held her and stroked her head, murmuring words of comfort. He let her cry into his shoulder until she ran out of tears. He carried her to the bed and set her down, scooting up next to her and draping an arm over her back. She leaned her head into his chest, sniffling, trying to get her breath back. Once she had calmed down somewhat, he began to rub her back in small circles with his thumb. He pressed a kiss to her temple.
"Thank you, Chat. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."
"Any time, Princess."
"My family would have been devastated. And Alya would have lost a best friend." Chat Noir goggled at her and she was confused. "What?"
"You know, most people that have a near death experience, their first thought is everything they never got to do, never got to say. The dreams left on the shelf. But you- you thought about your family, your friends. That kind of selflessness, it's rare. Has anybody ever told you that you're amazing?" he asked sincerely.
"Just you, mostly," she mumbled, face on fire. "You don't have to try to make me feel better."
"But it's true. You're great, Marinette. Sweet and brave and generous and brilliant. I could fill a book with all the things I love about you."
There was a pregnant pause. His ears burned when he realized what he'd said.
"You- you... love me? Me? Really?" she stammered.
The disbelief in her voice made him sad. Did she really not see her value? He would have to put it in terms that could not in any way be misunderstood.
"Yes, you, and yes, really. You're my best friend and I think you're beautiful and wonderful and frequently want to kiss you on the lips."
Her face was as pink as her room. She smiled shyly. She chewed her lip, thinking.
Marinette felt her internal conflicts begin to dissolve. She had feelings for Adrien, but he had never been any friendlier to her than to Alya or Nino or anyone. Chat was right here. He was handsome and he cared about her so much, and the feeling was mutual. Why had she been denying herself this? He was brave and kind and considerate and funny and so... wonderful. She felt her resolve harden. She wanted this. She wanted him. She took his face in her hands and brought her lips to millimeters from his.
"Is this okay?" she breathed.
"Yes. Very much yes," Chat agreed vehemently. "Is this okay with you?"
"Yes. Absolutely," she consented.
She needed no further encouragement. Her lips met his gently at first, warm and soft, exploring. He broke to trail kisses down her collarbone. She moaned in pleasure and he stopped, concerned, but she urged him to keep going. She ran her hands over all his favorite petting spots, alternating between feather-light caresses and invigorating scratches. He purred at her and she wanted his mouth on hers again. She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and guided his face closer to hers. Their lips crashed together violently. The kiss became hot, hungry, desperate. Adrenalin was still pumping through both of their veins from the earlier events and they took frantic comfort in the frenzy of each other. His tongue teased her lower lip until she parted them and then it slid along her own and she hummed in satisfaction.
He flipped over so he was straddling her hips and she stretched back on the bed in a long, languorous motion. His eyes burned with desire as they traced the lines of her taut muscles. She imagined that her face looked the same. They came together again, Chat kneading the flesh of her hips and Marinette burying her fingers in his golden hair. She shrugged off her jacket and grasped the fabric of her shirt, yanking it over her head. Chat rasped his tongue over the skin of her neck, then placed kisses in the hollow of her throat and progressed lower until he nipped at the space between her breasts, sucking on the spot.
Marinette peeled his suit down to his waist, eyeing his muscled chest in appreciation. She ran her fingernails over it and made a few love bites of her own. He stripped off his gloves and ran his hands up her arms and down her sides, making her shiver as they left trails of heat along her skin. He pressed kisses into her stomach, flicking out his tongue to taste her skin periodically. Marinette reversed their positions so that she was straddling his lap. She took his lip between her teeth and tugged, then showered his face with kisses, nuzzling his ear and pressing him as close as he could be. They were so tangled up in each other that they almost didn't notice the beeping.
They broke apart with a gasp. Chat frantically put his missing costume pieces back on while Marinette scrambled for her clothes as well. They sat next to each other, re-dressed, on Marinette's bed, panting. Her eyes slid sideways and met his own gaze and they both broke into manic grins. She slid closer and wrapped a leg around his.
"So, you have to go, huh?" she asked with a smile.
"Believe me, I wish I could stay," he groaned. "We're going to have to figure out a way around that so we don't get interrupted again."
"I like the sound of that."
"What, finding a solution to transforming back so fast?"
"No, 'again,'" she replied mischievously.
"No, don't make the eyes at me," he groaned. "If you make the eyes at me, I'll want to stay, and I will stay, and I'll reveal my secret identity and you won't think I'm mysterious anymore. And we can't have that."
"Go on, Chaton," she laughed. "You're down to two paw pads. I understand. But thanks for saving me. I look forward to our next rendezvous."
"So do I, Princess. Until next time," he flirted, kissing the back of her hand.
"Oh, and Chat? I love you, too," she told him.
With that, he leapt from the bed to the roof, then vaulted across Paris, smiling so wide his face hurt.
Marinette lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, marveling at the turn of events that led to her becoming Chat Noir's... what, girlfriend? She was still shaken by her experience in the alley, but the warmth flooding her from what came after her rescue pushed that to the back of her mind. She loved Chat Noir. Being a designer, the best way she could think of to express it was fashion. She had the whole weekend to figure out an outfit to impress him and make that statement. Since she was still buzzing with the heady feeling of making out with her Chaton, she wasn't going to sleep anyway. She drew with frenetic energy, scrawling idea after idea on the pages of her sketchbook. She ran out of steam around two in the morning. She looked down at her most recent drawing and grinned. Oh, her kitty was going to love this.
A/N: PSA- Okay, so I know the jump from being sexually assaulted to hot and heavy make out with Chat was more than a little fast, but I'm not trying to be insensitive to victims of sex crimes, I promise! I did my best to make the distinction between unwanted aggressive physical contact and consensual expression of feeling between two enthusiastically willing parties very clear. There is a difference between violent sexual advances from some adult criminal and intense kissing with a close friend that she is attracted to that she wanted and verbally agreed to. Please do not take offense to the abrupt transition. That's all I wanted to say. Extra big hugs to those of you who have been victims to sexual assault or have loved ones who have been victims. I wish you nothing but the best going forward in your lives, lovelies. May you find strength and healing. Additional hugs, Me.