The worst part about knowing that Ladybug was sitting just behind him was how uncomfortable it made him. OK, it wasn't the worst part, but it definitely was the hardest.

What was even worse was that he had just unintentionally (he swears!) got a perfect glance down her shirt just moments before. He would have recognized those breasts anywhere, even if he didn't already know Marinette was Ladybug, and she had reached forward to grab something from Nino at the same time he had turned to speak to her. There was no way he couldn't have looked down her shirt, the red of her bra just barely peeking out the scoop neck, and he was almost ashamed that once he had realized where he was looking that he hadn't immediately looked away...except that just a few nights ago he had buried his face in them and he was pretty sure he had left a mark near the bottom of the left one. He would have to look again to make sure, so he began to turn in his seat...NO! No looking, Adrien! It was hard enough already, and it just kept getting harder.

He groaned and dropped his head into his hands, trying not to think about what he had done just after trying to suffocate himself in her chest, how he had bit at the soft flesh before nipping and licking his way past her navel and farther down to - NO ADRIEN.

"You alright, dude?" He could hear Nino's concern to his left, but his flushed face was sure to give him away. His blond hair bounced slightly as he nodded.

"Yeah, I just have a headache, give me a minute," he lied too easily, face still buried in his hands. He had to stop thinking about her, but even as afternoon classes began and he shifted in his seat yet again, all he could think about was how he had found out and how much he wanted to tell her that he knew...then fuck her brains out like he had that one time in a locker room at Grand Stade after they defeated an akuma there. Actually, she had fucked his brains out, and the way she had bit her lip as she rode him, hair down and head thrown back, filled his mind as he replaced Ladybug's masked face with Marinette's flushed one.

His pencil snapped in his hand.

The teacher jumped and momentarily glared over her shoulder at him as he mumbled embarrassed apologies, covering his lap with his bag so he could search for another one before reaching for the larger piece that had rolled off his desk. Nino was looking at him sideways but Adrien ignored his best friend as well as the stares from the rest of the class. He was too busy focusing on how embarrassed he was, hoping beyond hope that the emotion would drive away the strain in his pants. Even if it didn't, at least it wasn't making it worse like his double-crossing imagination.

As phones buzzed around him and the intercom crackled to life, Adrien surprised even himself when he realized he was just then grateful for an akuma. Hopefully it was Mr. Pigeon. That way, the fight would be over quickly, no one would be hurt, and he could take a chance to confirm that there was in fact a small bite mark on the bottom of Marinette's left breast…

The very breasts that were bouncing as she trotted down the stairs with Alya. He had to deliberately drag his eyes away. Then he slowly stood, swinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder in such a way that his bag really never fully left the front of his body. He used it as a shield as he faced his best friend, his best friend's girlfriend, and the love of his life…how could he have missed it all this time?

Marinette then did that thing where she gave a confusing excuse followed by a high-pitched, awkward laugh before bolting away. He knew where she was going and while he bid his adieus, he was only thinking about her in that bright red bodyforming suit. He just wanted to get his hands on her.

It was not, in fact, Mr. Pigeon, and a small part of Adrien's mind felt guilty that he had ever been thankful for an akuma attack at all. Raging teenage hormones were no excuse to wish destruction upon anyone, even if Ladybug would put it all back in the end anyway. That small part was silenced quickly, though, as most of his blood was pooling much lower in his body.

"How the fuck am I supposed to fight like this?" he groaned, looking down at the very obvious to him bulge at the front of his suit. Plagg swore the suit's magic would keep anyone else from noticing, and so far that had been true, thankfully. There were no embarrassing photos of it in any dirty rag magazines, anyway. His ass, on the other hand, featured in plenty of them. It wasn't like his ass hadn't been featured in plenty of legitimate magazines, either, but that was work and was artful, for fashion; the tabloids were just smut and pure sex appeal. Speaking of sex appeal, he wondered what Marinette would say once she knew it was his ass in those pictures. She had once said she was a big fan of Cat Noir, after all.

With a deep sigh, he ran his hand through his hair between his ears, grabbed his staff (not that one), and vaulted uncomfortably towards the fight. As he grew closer to the din, he realized his situation still hadn't changed much and he groaned again, still wondering how he was supposed to fight with a dick so hard it almost hurt.

At some point during the fight, he realized he had been so focused on the battle that his body was finally and thankfully behaving itself. That is, it was behaving itself until he noticed it was. Then, of course, Ladybug just happened to have to wrap herself around him to get away from the akuma, and instead of riding piggyback, she chose the front. It didn't take her long to give him that knowing look, one eyebrow raised and pursed lips, as he vaulted them out of the fray, her yo-yo useless in the gale force winds created by the akuma. Even if the suit concealed it from onlookers, she could apparently feel it.

"Don't," he grunted when she loosened her legs to drop her feet to the ground. She froze and he clamped his eyes shut to avoid looking into her alluring eyes. "Just...don't move. Let me do it." He grabbed her by the torso and picked her up then away before placing her down. If she had slid down his body instead, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to finish the fight.

"Focus, Kitty."

"I'm trying," he all but growled, and he finally opened his eyes, staring at her with an intensity she had never seen before.

"Sorry," she said meekly, taken aback. She cleared her throat, though, and immediately went back to being all business. The fight was soon over and as she cared for the victim of the akuma, he looked on from the darkness of an alley, watching her ass jiggle a little as she waved emphatically at their fans. If not for the magical strength of his staff (not that one), he was sure it wouldn't have bent with how hard he was gripping it to keep himself from pouncing on her in front of all and sundry. She bid them farewell and he could tell she was looking for him without making it obvious she was doing so. Eventually she would notice his green eyes glowing in the unlit alley between the bank and the spa. Once she did, her face changed.

The business look was gone and she was biting the corner of her lower lip. Her walk changed ever so slightly as she looked around to see if anyone was watching, her hips swaying seductively as she walked on an imaginary line straight to him. She didn't look at him at all, just walked by and casually rubbed her hand across the expanse of his chest as she continued past. "Not here. Follow me," she said into the air as a smirk grew on her face.

Then her Miraculous beeped. She grabbed his wrist and started running, darting into a side entrance to the spa. He shouted an excuse at the man behind the counter as they went whizzing by, counting on the city's love for their superhero pair to give them an excuse. Down the hall and by instinct (probably luck), she opened a door to a room she thought would be empty then yanked him inside, slamming the door shut with her body weight once they were inside.

She was panting, face flushed, chest heaving as she leaned against the door. There was a slight sheen of sweat on her brow, a few drops trickling down her neck, and he was tempted to drag the pad of his tongue straight up her neck to her earlobe to stop their downward trajectory.

"Kitty...you told the owner we just had to hide for a few minutes." He nodded once, dragging his eyes up her body. He stalked towards her like the cat he truly was, tail twitching. "Then why are you looking at me like you're hungry?" She smirked, eyes alive with mischief.

"You have no idea." His voice was low and husky. If he hadn't been so horny he might have been slightly nervous with the knowledge that he was prey-stalking her, his sweet, innocent classmate Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He closed the gap between them in one long step, hands either side of her head against the thick door as he stared hungrily into her beautiful blue eyes. She squeaked in surprise but he knew she was unafraid. Eyes large, she looked up at him through her lashes, and her smirk turned impish. Without another word, she fearlessly grabbed his package in one hand and the surprise was immediately evident on her face. She made a little "o" face and he grunted. "Told you." Unblinking, he waited for her to make another move to indicate she was ready. He had to see that mark again, and as she looked up at him once more just before her eyes fluttered closed and she smashed her lips against his, he knew he was about to get the chance.

Without a lot of embarrassing and fumbling practice over the last few months, they never would have been able to get undressed as quickly as they did without revealing their identities. All he could think about was drowning his face in her perfect tits and his throbbing cock in her tight pussy. They both obediently kept their eyes closed, trusting each other implicitly, as they both unzipped their suits and took off their civilian clothes, masks still in place. That little ladybug charm at her throat and the golden bell at his neck revealed to both of them more than they had ever imagined.

Even with his eyes closed, Cat Noir could see what Marinette was wearing. He wanted so badly to see just exactly what that red bra looked like that he had seen earlier in class, but he dutifully kept his eyes shut as he gently bit down the side of her neck, pushing his entire length and body against her as she tried to finish undressing.

"Silly Kitty," she whispered against his ear before nibbling on it, sending a shiver down his entire body, "I won't be able to get undressed if you don't give me some space". In response, he moved back ever so slightly, lips still attached to her neck, and dragged his hands up her torso, under her shirt, then pushed the garment up her arms and over her head. Then his body was right back on hers, fingers ghosting across her skin as he kissed her full on the lips.

He could feel her working on the light pink jeans she had worn that day. It was amazing how easily they came off with how tight they had looked at school...so tight that he had been immediately certain that morning that she was wearing a thong. There was one good way to find out. She groaned into his mouth as he grabbed her ass, squeezing the bare flesh in both hands as his cock pushed at her through his jeans. Her fingernails dug into his chest a little and he smirked against her mouth. It still hadn't fully hit him that this was indeed Marinette; he was having difficulty melding the two in his mind even though he had done it a thousand times in the few days since he had accidentally figured it out.

In one swift movement, he leaned back and tore his shirt up over his head before diving back into to kiss her, eyes closed the entire time. His hands made swift work of his belt and before he could even fully unbutton his jeans, her hands went from his chest straight down the front of his body, her nails leaving light lines all the way down to the only hair on his torso. He was still trying to unzip when she grabbed ahold of his cock. His hips bucked forward of their own accord and that only made him hurry quicker to get undressed.

It was hard to work her bra clasp when she was stroking him like that and nibbling on his lip, but eventually he was able to release it. Seconds later, she whispered that she was ready and he replied in kind. She may have opened her eyes, he didn't know, but his first order of business was that mark on her left breast so by the time he would have seen her do it, his face was already in her cleavage. Yep, there it was, a small purple and red shadow just above the crease. He made quick work of giving it a twin on the other side before burying his face in her cleavage once again, pushing both soft breasts to either side of his face. Then he trailed a few sloppy kisses to the side before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, biting down ever so slightly and revelling in the way it made her push her breast harder against his face.

How could this be sweet Marinette? The fact that it was made him impossibly harder. He heard a distant beep and ignored it; with as horny as he was, this wasn't going to take long.

She had helped him out of his pants while still stroking him so he ran his hands down over her hips as he brought his mouth back up to hers. He squeezed her ass again before letting his hands reach the back of her thighs. She took the cue and jumped up while he assisted, wrapping her arms around his neck and threading her fingers through his golden hair. She locked her ankles behind his back and he pinned her against the wall with his weight, kissing her hungrily all the while.

He stepped out of his pants and kicked them away knowing she wouldn't look, the tip of his cock bouncing against her dampening panties. He let go with one hand to pull the crotch of her thong aside before grasping his hardened cock and splitting her lips with the leaking end of it. She tore her mouth away from his to huskily whisper into his ear, "Fuck me, Kitty."

With a grunt he was inside of her and by the second thrust he was fully sheathed.

Not so innocent, he thought as she moaned, tilting her head back as she bounced on his cock. Her raven locks slid up and down the wall with their motions and he burned the image into his memory. This is Marinette. Holy fuck this is Marinette. The reality hit him even though he already knew the truth. His jaw dropped in wonderment and he lost his rhythm for a few seconds.

The way she moaned had always turned him on but something about it being Marinette behind the mask heightened the euphoria. She kept bouncing on his cock with little moans here and there, his thrusts harder and farther apart; and when she dropped her head to his shoulder to bite into the muscle there, her knees trying to meet despite being wrapped around him, he knew she was about to come and was trying to keep herself quiet.

His traitorous brain was extra treacherous as a thought popped into his head. He grabbed her hips tight, nails digging into her flesh, and changed the bouncing into more of a roll so her clit ground against him. She bit down harder and he could feel her pussy pulsing around him in orgasm a few thrusts before he came hard, her moans of bliss stifled by his flesh. Eventually she let go as the euphoria slowly subsided. When she raised her head to look at him, she found him staring at her in wonderment.

Another beep sounded out as they stilled, panting together even as she watched him watch her. She kissed him tenderly and he thought, Marinette!, before he pulled back. Then he offered one of his patent smirks and said, "Your wish is my command." That earned him a playful smack as she lowered herself to the floor as he tilted his hips back and away, his dick overstimulated and extra sensitive.

"I told you, 'no romance'," she scolded with a smile as they turned their backs to one another to call off their transformations.

"Oh, so you do think I'm romantic." He wondered briefly what Marinette would think then realized that she had just told him.

"I'd smack you if I could." They continued to bicker in fun as their kwamis recharged.

"Like, smack playfully or more like smack my ass?"

"Maybe with your belt," she countered. Thoughts of using his belt to bind Marinette filled his head and he willed his cock to stay at ease. He would have to think about that later when he had some rest.

"That still doesn't answer my question…"

"What is your obsession with what I think about your ass? That's like the fourth time you've asked this week!" He had asked twice before he knew she was Marinette and now twice after. The first two times were just him being Cat Noir, but the last two...he just really wanted to know what Marinette thought about his ass, what could he say?

"Alright, let's go, I want more cheese," Plagg interrupted, dragging Adrien's clothes over to him so there was no chance Marinette could see.

Tikki was doing the same when she scolded him for being so selfish. Neither of the boys knew it, but Marinette had once complained to her that despite their arrangement for sex, she sometimes wished they could just stay with each other after. It didn't even have to be cuddling, necessarily, but she hated that they "fucked and fled" as she so brashly put it.

They dressed quickly, forgetting their playful banter, and once both teens were back to their superhero forms, they faced each other. He saw her eyes searching his face, for what he didn't know. He grabbed her hand and, without losing eye contact, he bowed ever so slightly and kissed her knuckles. A blush rose on her cheeks as she stomped her foot and growled, "I said 'no romance'!"

Cat Noir dropped her hand and smiled as he walked towards the only window in the room. He opened it gently and climbed up onto the ledge. She was glaring at him with her fists at her side, but the blush was still peeking out from under her mask just like her bra had done that morning from beneath her shirt. Would you fucking stop it already?! he swore at his brain.

"I hear you, but your blush betrays you." Then he smirked again, two-finger saluted her, and vaulted away.

Adrien dropped onto his bed on his back and scrubbed at his face in frustration. One thought of Marinette with his belt and he was already hard again.

"How the fuck am I going to make it through school again tomorrow?" he groaned. "I barely made it today!"

Then be remembered the plan his stupid brain had mid thrust (which made his cock twitch) and an evil grin stretched across his face. Rapidfire, his imagination spewed idea after idea on just how he was going to get her to notice it was Adrien beneath the mask and hopefully torture her with it just the way he was suffering now. He went to his bathroom (with other plans to proceed after the conclusion of this specific task) and looked at himself in the mirror, pulling back the collar of his t-shirt. Ah, yes, just there on the front of his right trap muscle was the telltale bruise of a bite, one that he had no intention of covering with neither clothes nor make up in the morning.

No, he was going to find a way for Marinette to get a glance of it and force her mind to race like his was, to wonder frantically then rapidly dismiss the possibility that her classmate was her partner, because there was no way that mild-mannered, pretty boy, achingly polite Adrien Agreste was the same guy she was letting motorboat her any chance he got. Maybe his brain wasn't so treacherous after all...and that's how the trouble started.