I am slightly distressed today, but I'm here hoping this can cheer someone up if they're in need. Tomorrow's promp is done and I'm ready to work on the sixth.

As usual, thank you all for reading! I'll make sure to reply to all your comments once I'm feeling better, and apologize for all mistakes done so far. Lately I don't have the time to read what I write.

iv: kittens

The sky is getting greyer and greyer with each day that passes and winter draws near. Marinette cannot find it in herself to like the season; it makes it hard to get out of bed, she does not enjoy wearing layers of clothing and she always catches a cold or the flu - she has to admit that it is during winter that the most beautiful clothes are on display, though. It is easy to find her huddled by the lit ovens of the bakery when she returns from the streets, arms around her own shoulders and teeth chattering as she complains about the temperature.

So imagine her parents' surprise when they once found her there, in her usual spot in the corner of the kitchen, with four kittens sitting on her lap.

Now, imagine Chat's surprise when he entered her bedroom one night and found her sitting cross-legged on her lounge with the little furry things snuggled together on her warm blankets.

"What did I miss?" His tone is hesitant, but his grin is wide as he regards the kitties.

Marinette shrugs her shoulders and reaches out to pet the one with the orange coat. "I found them in a box on the streets. Couldn't leave them there with this weather."

"You are a precious being, my Princess." He says warmly and she scoffs lightly in response, smiling at the kitten as it stretches its paws under her working fingers. "What are you going to do with them?"

"I'm not sure." There is a frown on her lips and Chat feels like kissing it away. "I can only keep one of them."

He glances at the cats again. From far away, they look like an indistinguishable mass of colorful fur with the way they stay close to warm up each other. There is the one she is scratching with bright ginger fur and darker streaks, and a pink little nose that is bumping into her fingers. The other has grey tail and back, as well as the upper half of its head, and the rest is white. Its fur looks soft and extremely fluffy. The third one is the only one he knows by name: it is a Siamese cat, with dark tail, paws, ears and the area around its snout; the fur is much shorter than the one with grey spots.

Now the last one brings a wide grin to his face. The cat is black, there is a tuff of white fur on its chest and one of the front paws is white as well. The little creature opens its eyes and look up at him; the eyes are of a golden orange, very beautiful. Too bad it is not green eyed, Chat thinks as he picks that one particular kitten in his hands and hears Marinette snort at his decision.

"Why don't you offer them to your friends? Or donate them?"

"I thought of that. Alya is willing to accept one, any one of them."

He hummed thoughtfully, scratching underneath his chin with a claw. "Do I get to pick which one gets to stay and which one goes?" Marinette shrugged and accented with her head once as she moved her hands underneath the blanket to pick it up with the tree kitties still on top. "Well then, the black one stays."

Another snort from her moving form, "Why am I not surprised?"

Chat brushes her comment off and stands with her. "Alya gets the one with orange fur."

"She would like that one," she muses and places the blanket on the ground by a plate of bread softened in milk, and the little things immediately start moving once they smell it.

"Nino can have the grey and white one."

"And Adrien will get the Siamese?" The black cat is placed down on the ground and it walks towards the food on its wobbly legs. "A fancy looking cat for a rich kid? I should have looked harder for a Persian cat."

His laugh is humorless and he pulls her body towards his, trapping her firmly in place with his arms. "What do you say that we cuddle together for warmth like the cats were doing just now?"

His lips land on the curve of her jawline and she bites down a pleasured sigh. "Just cuddle?"

"Maybe do something more." Marinette sees his smirk for only a split second before he is moving the both of them across the room and up the stairs to the loft of her bed, crashing down onto mattress as she lets out a yelp of surprise, followed by laughter.

Chat moves around so they are at eye level and places kisses on her cheek, and Marinette moves slowly, still caught in his hold, humming low in her throat as she turns to face him on the bed. She ducks her head under his chin and wraps her arms around his torso. She makes a noise of approval, nose burying into the side of his neck to take in that familiar scent of brand name perfume, leather and, a rare few times, a little bit of sweat. She never thought she would enjoy the smell of sweat, but Chat has his of making everything feel, look and smell good on him. Marinette inches closer, tangling their legs together, and sighs blissfully when he starts running his fingers through her freshly washed, but already dry hair.

Her locks smell of lavender, he notices with a sniff, lavender and vanilla, and they are soft – he bets they are, for he cannot feel it with his bare hands. He glares momentarily at the black gloves with clawed tips and resumes playing with the dark strands, earning a pleased hum in return. Chat considers more often than not telling her about himself, so much that Plagg often falls asleep or zones out while he is voicing his concerns regarding a possible reveal. What were the odds that she would turn tail and flee, or turn him down? They are dating, and though they never voiced it aloud, it is clear that she likes him more than just as a friend, and Marinette seems to adore his true – other? – self either, so really, there is no downside to this.

He glances at the ring around his finger, at the paw glowing in bright green, like a text marker, and wonders if she wonders too. Finding the time to sneak away as Chat Noir can be difficult, if he could just come out as one of her classmates and friends, meeting with her would be much easier. As easy as Gabriel Agreste would allow it, but still. Easier. Sometimes he likes to imagine how it would be if they were dating officially, both inside and outside their costumes. Marinette would get to meet his father and he was sure they would get along well thanks to their common interest in fashion. She would not be able to crack his shell or make him less distant, but he would approve of her, or so Chat likes to think.

On the lower level, the kittens start meowing, asking for attention. They take unsure steps around the room as they search for their rescuer, the noises getting louder the more desperate they become. Chat chuckles softly, fingers still playing with the hair on the back of her head. "It seems like our kids are calling for their mom." He waits for a punch or a jab on the ribs, or maybe just an annoyed retort from her, but he gets none of that. He feels compelled to look down at her and finds her eyes closed, long eyelashes resting on top of her cheeks.

Her breathing is slow and her lips are parted – she has fallen asleep.

Chat cannot help but gaze lovingly at her, and brushes her fringe away to place a kiss on her forehead before trying to detangle himself from her arms and legs. All that Marinette does with all his shifting is moan and hug her cat pillow instead of his body, rubbing her cheek on its soft material and letting out a sigh. He moves down the stairs to comfort the crying kitties, and they come running and tripping to meow at his feet. He crouches low, pets every single one of them and takes them back to the blanket she placed by the food and water, telling them in a quiet voice that it was bedtime.

When Marinette wakes up in the next morning, the baby cats are sleeping soundly, and the smell of Chat's perfume lingers in her sheets.