#giggling and kicking my legs i know who you liiiiiiike

[keclan]

i’ve never done pc/pc romance in dnd, it feels so much more exciting than dm/pc romance i’m so hype

[quickspinner]

The Magic of You - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

This was supposed to be sweet and fun and easy, and it is the first two I hope, but it was not easy and now there’s a part 3 in the works, so. Oopsie. 😆

Some sexytimes in this one, slightly less off screen than usual but still not detailed or explicit, and should be fairly easy to skim past.

“You’re in trouble,” Juleka sighed, leaning an elbow on the table and looking at him through the curtain of her hair. 

Luka didn’t answer her, humming as he replaced the strings on his instrument. He normally carried his gittern on his trips to the meadow, because it was small and light, but he had a mind to play his lute for Marinette tomorrow. 

“Luka.” Juleka kicked his foot. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Juleka.” 

“Tell me you’re not falling for a girl who’s not even your species.” 

Luka didn’t look up, but he knew she could see his lopsided grin. “Can’t. Sorry.” 

“You barely know each other.” 

Luka hummed. “I’ve never heard a song as beautiful as hers. I know her, Jules. I don’t know a lot about her, but I know her...deep down, the core of who she is. She’s sweet and kind and...vibrant…” He trailed off, lost in thought, until Juleka kicked him again.

“She’s a literal snake, Luka!”

Luka frowned, finally looking directly at her. “She’s not a snake.” 

“Half-snake,” Juleka snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he said, and his clipped tone made Juleka’s eyes widen slightly. “She’s not half snake. She’s not half anything . She’s not a snake and she’s not human and she’s definitely not half snake-half human. Don’t make her sound like some kind of  construct, like two things somehow got mashed together in some weird magical accident. She’s not a freak, she’s just...herself. A complete being meant to be as she is.” He turned back to his work. “And she’s beautiful, just like that.” He pressed his lips together, jaw tight.

Juleka sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Luka’s tension eased, and he glanced up at her. She got up from the table, placing her palms on it as she leaned over to look him in the eye. “Also, you’re hopeless.” 

Luka chuckled as Juleka stalked off. “Fair.”

***

“Girl, you are in so much trouble.” 

“I am not,” Marinette protested, lashing out with the end of her tail. Alya dodged the half-hearted blow and giggled. 

“You liiiiiiike him,” Alya teased, twining around her friend with both tail and arms to hug her. “Admit it.” 

“Like him? Yes.” Marinette leaned into the embrace for just a moment, and then slid away. “Of course I like him,” Marinette huffed, coiling back on herself with her nose in the air as Alya made herself into a loose coil in the corner, draping her upper half over the angled rock there for that purpose. “He’s sweet. Very polite. He’s interesting, and I want to know more about his magic. His music is beautiful. He’s handsome for a human.” Marinette shrugged. “Maybe I have a little crush, but that’s all.” 

“Mmhmm. And if he was a naga?” Alya leaned her chin on her hand and gave a fangy grin. “Would it still be a little crush then?” 

Marinette flushed deep red. She couldn’t deny that she had thought about it. Imagined what Luka would look like with a sleek black scaled body instead of legs, or what fangs would look like in his knowing smile. Maybe she’d fantasized a little bit about eyes in that exact shade of deep blue, with slit pupils slowly widening into near-circles as she teased and tortured him— 

It hadn’t felt right, though, imagining him as something other than he was. The fangs spoiled the gentleness of his smile, and he would move differently if he had a tail, and she loved the soft, content expression in his eyes when he looked at her. Luka had a quiet strength of his own, but there was nothing predatory or dangerous about him. He was fearless without being threatening, and Marinette found that very, very attractive. There was none of that contentious, dominating element of naga courtship that she had never before managed to navigate. Luka had made it clear from the beginning that he respected her and what she could do. She’d never had to prove to him that she had the strength to bear and protect a clutch, nor establish that she would not be dominated or intimidated by a mate, and his own easy confidence in her presence convinced her of his strength—of power and character, if not of body. With a jolt, Marinette suddenly understood that without realizing it, or likely even intending it, Luka had slipped past her guard and straight into the sweetest part of courtship, the learning and the teaching, the teasing and the wooing, and she suddenly realized that this little crush she had been indulging might be more serious than she had meant to let it get. 

“I’m in trouble,” Marinette sighed, sinking down onto her coils to mope. Alya patted her back sympathetically. 

***

She felt a little shy the next time Luka appeared in her meadow. She tried to greet him with the same cheerfulness as usual, but he still looked at her with those knowing eyes, tilting his head slightly. 

“Is everything all right?” Luka asked, leaning toward her a little. He reached to tuck a lock of her hair behind her pointed ear, and though the touch was light, the feel of it lingered on her cheek and ear. 

“Yes,” she breathed, and then blushed, looking away. “I’m just...happy to see you.” She glanced back at him to see his reaction, and the grin that spread over his face was gratifying to say the least. 

“I’m always happy to see you,” he said, and then seemed to hesitate. “In fact, I was wondering—would it be all right if I came to see you more often? Not for the magic. Just to see you. I’d...really like to spend more time with you, if that’s okay.” 

Marinette held in a very undignified squeal, and gave him a broad smile, fangs fully in evidence. “I’d like that.” 

“Good,” Luka smiled back at her. “I was hoping you’d say that.” 

Heart pounding, Marinette could feel a giggle bubbling up. She launched herself forward at striking speed and coiled loosely around Luka. He started at the sudden movement but otherwise just looked over his shoulder at her, chin tilting up as she raised herself to look at the instrument strapped to his back. “This is new,” she observed, fingers hovering over the wood. She felt shy of touching it without his permission and drew her hand back. 

“I thought I’d play something different for you today,” he said, and she tilted her head slightly as she looked at him. His voice had gone deeper, and there was a pink tinge to his face, like he had been out in the sun too long. Except he wasn’t even out of the shadows of the trees yet, and…

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and felt a flutter in her belly. 

“I like different,” she dared, sinking down again, but making no move to unwind from around him. 

She saw his little tongue come out to wet his lips as he turned forward again. “Me too.” Marinette decided she liked that deep voice very much. She let the giggle escape this time, and swept around him to take his hands. 

“Then come and do your work so you can play for me,” she said, slithering back and drawing him with her. 

“I can do my work and play for you,” he smiled, following her lead willingly. 

Marinette let go of him and made herself comfortable by the rock, but instead of lounging on it as he usually did, he took his instrument off and lowered himself onto the grass with his back to the rock, then tilted his chin at her in invitation. A little shyly, Marinette shifted herself to bring her torso next to him. “That’s better,” he murmured, his long fingers drawing the first notes from the strings, checking the tune. He paused to lay out his little line of crystals beside him, and Marinette leaned over him. 

“Does the magic work with any kind?” she wanted to know. 

“Not any kind, but many,” Luka replied, seeming unbothered by the way she had draped over him to look, even when she ever so casually rested a clawed hand on his chest to steady herself. “Some work better than others. Some regular customers have favorites that they like to reuse. Some mages find that certain types of crystals work better for them. I can work with most things, but some are easier than others. Mostly though, we just get whatever my sister, Juleka, can buy for us when the miner’s guild rep comes through.” He shrugged. “When it comes to business, I have to work with the supply.” 

“That makes sense,” Marinette said, easing back. “Sorry. For interrupting.” 

“No need,” he smiled, strumming again. “I have all day, and excellent company. I am in no hurry.” He held her gaze for a moment, and Marinette would have sworn that her heart stopped. She hadn’t realized she was still leaning so close to him. She drew back a little, and was glad when he shifted his gaze and let his eyes fall nearly shut as he sank into the music and the magic. She needed some time to compose herself, before she did anything else foolish. She would have to think of a way to get back at him for being so...so charming . 

And she’d have plenty of chances, because he was coming to the meadow more often. He wanted to see her more. She gave an excited little wiggle that rippled down the length of her body, and then glanced at him to make sure he hadn’t noticed. His eyes were still closed, and she took a moment to admire him openly. Yes, he was plenty handsome, just as he was, and his aura radiated peace and comfort. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be the life she had imagined for herself, but if it was like this...she crushed that thought before it could go any further. She reached for the workbasket she’d left on the ground beside the rock, and pulled out some leatherwork she’d been meaning to get done. She glanced at Luka one more time and smiled. 

***

Juleka was right, and Luka knew it. He was hopeless. His hands shook slightly as he made the walk to the clearing on his next free day. This would be his first purely social visit to Marinette, without even the pretense of work to hide behind. He was here, purely and simply, because he wanted to see her, and he’d made sure she knew it, and now he would see...he thought he would see, if this was indeed the first step of shifting their relationship toward something more than friendship. 

He put a hand against his heart, feeling it flutter in time with the butterflies in his stomach. This was what he had always loved about love, the way that it quickened his breath and sharpened his senses, but there was more to it than that with Marinette. She was so vibrant and alive, bubbling with curiosity and creativity and with such a unique way of looking at things—he could listen to her talk for hours and never get tired of her stories and her ideas, nor did he tire of answering her questions about himself and his family. He wanted her to know him, and he treasured up everything he learned about her in a heart that had begun to ache for her presence when they were apart. 

And he thought...he thought that maybe she...

He took the last few steps from the trees into the meadow, and Marinette, draped over the great couch-like stone in the middle, immediately looked up. Her face lit up like one of his glowing power crystals the second she laid eyes on him, and his heart soared and he opened his arms instinctively even as he tried to quash the rising hope in him. Marinette’s scales whisked along the grass and then she was colliding with him hard enough to knock him off his feet. That surprised her, and they both went down in a heap. Marinette managed to catch him in her coils in such a way as to protect the instrument strapped on his back, and for a moment they both blinked at each other. Marinette smiled sheepishly, one fang poking out adorably between her lips. “Oops. I...forgot you were human.” She winced. “I mean, of course I know that, it’s just—well, we’re a lot harder to tip over.” 

Luka began to laugh, one hand reaching up to cradle her cheek as he lost himself in her eyes, eyes that should have been strange and foreign but to him, were simply beautiful. “Forgiven.”  

Marinette smiled and tightened her hold on his arms, and then Luka wasn’t exactly sure what happened. It reminded him of being on his mother’s boat when the water was what she called “sporty.” It only lasted a moment, though, and then he was sitting upright on the grass in the curve of Marinette’s serpentine body. He had a giddy moment of disorientation; he always forgot how big she was compared to him, because so much of her body was often hidden in the grass and she tended to carry herself lower to the ground, so that she was shorter than him. Clearly no matter how lost his heart was, his head still had some work to do on remembering that she was not human. 

“Better?” she asked, sliding her hands down his arms and looking him over. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Or your lute?” 

“I’m fine,” Luka smiled, carefully catching her clawed hands as they began to slide away. “I’m happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too,” she said shyly, and he felt her shifting behind him—curling closer, he thought, and tried not to jump as the tip of her tail curled up over his thigh. “What did you want to do today? Since you don’t have to work.” 

“Anything,” Luka smiled. “What do you do when I’m not here invading your meadow?” 

“Miss you,” she said coyly, and then blushed, and quickly unwound herself from him and slithered away. “Come on, it’s too cool here in the shade.”  

Luka was frozen for a moment, caught off guard by her sudden boldness. Only when she curled around the base of the rock where he usually sat and propped her arms on it, peeking shyly at him over them, did he manage to move.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Luka told himself as he got rather unsteadily to his feet . They were, after all, very different, and a summer romance, or even just a summer flirtation, might be the most that could ever happen between them. 

Oh, but he wanted at least that much, if she was willing to give it to him, so he went to the rock and laid down on his belly, folding his own arms under his chin as he blinked slowly at her. 

She giggled. “Now that’s almost the proper way to lounge on a sunning stone,” she teased him. 

“Not so convenient for playing though,” Luka chuckled, and had to swallow at the way her eyes softened.

“Well,” she said, lifting up a little, and tracing random patterns on the stone with her fingers. “You don’t have to play, if you don’t want to. We could just...talk. Or enjoy the sun.” 

Luka hummed. “You don’t seem like the type of person who just lounges in the sun.” 

Marinette turned her nose up. “I”m a nagi. I spend a lot of time lounging in the sun, for your information.”

“Of course,” Luka agreed. “But you don’t just lounge, do you.” He leaned a little over the side of the rock and looked pointedly at a basket resting at the base. He looked up at Marinette and smirked, his face inches from hers. 

Marinette’s cheeks went pink. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping busy.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” Luka smiled, propping his chin up in his fist. 

“You think you know me so well,” Marinette pouted.

“Not yet, but I’m hoping to,” Luka said, his eyes on hers. “Will you show me what you’re working on?” he asked, breaking the gaze. 

Blushing hard, Marinette bent to pick up the basket that had been sitting on the grass and set it up on the rock to show him the leatherwork she had brought to do in the sunny meadow. He watched her, content and happy as she described her plan for the jerkin that was in pieces in the basket, a gift for a dear friend. 

“Will you...play for me?” she asked, settling down with her work at the foot of the rock. “If you want to. If you’d rather take a break for today, that’s okay too, I know you must play a lot so it’s completely up to you—”

“I would love to play for you,” he interrupted gently. “What would you like to hear?”

Marinette blushed. “Could you play...me? I want to hear...what you hear. If that’s okay. Like you did the first time you spoke to me.”  

“I can’t play you as you were then,” he smiled. “But I could play as you are now, if you don’t mind me touching your mind as I did before. Your feelings, as I said, not your thoughts.” He saw her hesitation, and added, “Or I can play something else. It’s up to you.”  

Marinette considered, and finally said, “I don’t mind. I’d like to hear it. I’d think I’d like for you to hear the way I feel right now.” She ducked her head a little, and Luka chuckled. 

“Music is often simpler than words.” 

“Especially when you use magic to sense emotions,” Marinette snorted, and stuck her tongue out at him. Luka laughed at the way it flickered in the air, but quickly sobered again.

“There is something I should probably tell you about that,” he said, looking away for a moment before he gathered his courage to meet her eyes again. “When I first meet someone, I have to be tranced to hear anything, and I have to work to find their song out of all the ones I’m hearing. But, the more I get to know somebody, and to know their song, the easier it is for me to pick it out. I’m already very aware of you just from coming here so often. Eventually, if we keep spending time together, I won’t have to trance at all to hear you.” 

Marinette seemed to take that in. “So...you’ll be able to read my emotions all the time?”

“If I listen, yeah,” Luka nodded. “I can try not to, but it’s...difficult sometimes.” He felt his face flush. “Especially if it’s someone I feel strongly about. Sometimes I don’t realize that I’m doing it.” He hesitated. “Is that...does it bother you? I mean, if it’s a problem, I can...I can stay away. I’ll understand, if you would rather not—”

Marinette placed one clawed hand over his, and he stopped, swallowing, at the way she was looking at him. “I don’t want you to stay away,” she told him, low and earnest. “That’s not what I want at all. This sensing, it’s a part of you, so I’m not afraid of it. I trust you.” 

Luka turned his hand over to take hers, and lifted it to press his lips against her palm. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Not everyone is so understanding.” 

Marinette blushed, and butted her head against his shoulder, hiding her face for a moment. 

Luka cleared his throat. “Shall I play for you now?” 

Marinette looked up, and smiled shyly. “Please.” 

He settled back, played his key tune, and sank into the magic of the meadow and of Marinette beside him. He found her song in the meadow’s symphony, and began to play along with it—not to replicate it, exactly, for it had a richness that he didn’t think his simple instrument could capture, but to follow the flow of her feelings and the underlying melody of Marinette herself. He smiled, slightly, pleased at what he sensed from her. Happiness, hopefulness, affection, and a sparkling thread of nervousness and anticipation that matched the feeling buzzing along his own veins. 

He lost himself in the music and the energy of Marinette and this, her place, and began to explore the way his own melded with it. His attention returned to Marinette when the tune of her mood shifted. He shifted with it, following the new feeling with his music, and he found himself playing something richer, warmer, more rhythmic—his eyes flew open wide and his trance shattered. He looked at Marinette, but she was looking very intently at the embroidery in her hands, seemingly not paying attention to him at all...but he could see her peek at him from under her hair and away. 

“What were you thinking about just then?” he asked, as if compelled, though he knew it was none of his business.

Marinette flushed a deep red, and he watched in fascination as it spread down her neck and down the exposed V of skin above her collar—he snapped his eyes back up to her face and swallowed, and hoped she hadn’t caught the trend of his gaze.  

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” she lied blatantly, and then her eyes darted toward him, giving him a look through her lashes that quickened his pulse.  “I was just...admiring your playing.” 

Oh . He licked his lips unconsciously, and saw her own tongue flicker out as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

He cleared his throat and put his instrument hastily away. “May I see how it’s coming along?” he asked, sliding over to the edge of the rock to get a look at her work. Marinette rose up, coiling her body under her so that she was effectively sitting beside him, and let him admire the pieces. If he leaned a little closer than necessary, she didn’t seem to mind, and they spoke in quiet, intimate tones, even though the clearing was empty besides themselves. 

It seemed hardly any time had passed when Luka looked up at the sun and sighed. “I must go,” he told Marinette regretfully. “I will come again—if you still wish me to.” 

“I do,” Marinette replied with a smile, making no move away from him, though they had been sitting quite close. 

Luka’s heartbeat quickened, and his gaze flicked down to her full, pretty lips. With an effort, he tore himself away, turning to pick up his lute and strap it to his back. “Then I shall come as soon as may be,” he said, picking up her hand instead and cradling it for a moment in his own. Farewell for now, Marinette. Be safe, until I see you again.” 

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” Marinette grinned, baring her fangs. 

Luka chuckled. “Nothing in this forest could keep me from coming back to you,” he told her boldly, and smiled at her blush. “Until then.” He squeezed her hand, and got to his feet, giving her a little bow as he took his leave. He felt her eyes on him until he disappeared in the trees. Only then did he fully let loose the dreamy smile he’d been trying to keep under control. When he pressed his hand over his heart, it was pounding instead of fluttering.

***

Luka was true to his word, and came often now. The days without him found Marinette pouting and discontented, though she always had plenty to do. She spent hardly any time in her lair, but that was hardly remarkable in summer, when her meadow was so pleasant and beautiful, full of growing things, and beginning to show the marks of Luka’s presence even in his absence. She treasured those little proofs, the marks of his heavy boots in the grass, or the wood shavings from his whittling while he spoke to her, the quill plectrums he occasionally left behind. 

She was growing more foolish by the day, and yet Marinette couldn’t quite help herself. The more time she spent with Luka, the more she wanted to coil around him, rub up against him, tempt him into touching her with those rough fingers that played so beautifully. 

Luka didn’t seem to mind, and even seemed to welcome her attentions as much as he was able, though she doubted he really understood the signals she was sending. Still, the way his hands brushed against her scaled body in little, encouraging touches spurred her to further boldness, and no matter how often she got flustered and retreated, he never teased her about it. 

She wanted him. She thought she might...love him. Even Alya had stopped teasing her, watching her now with a worried expression. 

If she wanted the life she always thought she’d have, the life everyone expected her to have, the smart thing to do would be to send Luka away. 

But Marinette couldn’t...and part of her wondered if that was her answer.

***

“Luka,” Marinette gasped, looking at the bolt of soft grey doeskin leather he’d laid in her arms. “This is beautiful.” 

Luka watched her face as she touched the soft leather, basking in her happiness. “You like it? It’s yours. I brought it for you.”

Her lovely mouth opened, but nothing came out, and Luka’s grin widened. 

“Your smile is all the thanks I need,” he told her, curling his fingers under her chin. “You have a beautiful smile.” 

She blushed, and Luka held her gaze for just a moment before dropping his. He picked up her hand and kissed her palm, and then pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse flutter against his lips. Her hand curved to cup his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, dragging his fingertips lightly down the inside of her arm. 

“I should put this somewhere safe,” Marinette murmured, and Luka made no protest as she moved away, only sighing as he lounged back on the sunning rock. His instrument and packs were set aside for the moment, but for once, he didn’t want to play—only to listen as he watched  Marinette pause on her way back to examine some of her flowers. He admired through half-closed eyes the colors in her serpent scales and the graceful arc she made as she bent to look at the blossoms. He started slightly as she made one of those quick movements that always surprised him, doubling back on herself to glide back to him over the grass. 

“You know,” she said, rising up around the sloped side of the rock where he was leaning, so that he had to look up at her. Her hair fell around her face and tickled his temples. “This is my sunning stone you’re always lounging all over.” 

“Perhaps you should come and join me then,” Luka suggested, raising his eyebrows slightly. “I think there’s room for us both, if you don’t mind being close.”

She seemed to consider that for a moment, and then she shifted up and over the rock, turning until her human torso pressed next to his, and the rest of her body followed, draping beside and around him. He shifted the little bit he could to make more room for her, and watched in fascination the play of muscle rippling along her length as she tucked her body next to and around him.  

Carefully, moving slowly, Luka slid his arm around her human waist, tugging her nearer, and she relaxed against his side with a quiet hum of contentment. Her slit pupils went wider, rounder, as his fingers stroked her lightly. 

“Not so bad, is it?” Luka asked with a smile, and she pressed closer against him, smiling back. 

“I could get used to it,” she sighed, and laid her head on his shoulder. “You’re warm.” She poked him in the belly with a knuckle. “Because you stole my sunning rock.” 

“It’s a good rock,” Luka chuckled, and then arched up slightly with a gasp as Marinette’s hand slid across his chest and she settled more fully against him, making a sleepy noise. He raised his eyebrows. “Marinette?” 

“Ssssleepy,” she hissed, and he bit his lip, though his chest shook under her with his chuckle.

“You should have told me you were so tired,” he chided softly, though he didn’t think she would hear him. 

“Not tired,” she mumbled. “Just warm. Comfy. Sleepy.” 

Hmm , Luka thought. Must be a naga thing . Not that he minded. He was more than happy to cuddle with her, feeling privileged to hold her as she slept. He could think of worse ways to spend a beautiful afternoon than napping in the sun with his...whatever they were. But then, whatever he was to her, she was his beloved, and he was only waiting for the right moment to tell her so. 

Her steady, even breathing told him that now was not that moment.

Chuckling, Luka dropped his free hand to fish in his clothes for a handkerchief. He finally found it, and let his head fall carefully back against the rock. He put the handkerchief over his face to shield himself from the sun, and sighed, stroking Marinette’s waist gently, fingers running over skin and scales. It was pleasant here in the sun, with Marinette soft and supple against him. She roused slightly, shifted, and swatted at his hand. 

“Stop that,” she complained sleepily. 

“Sorry.” Luka stilled his hand. “Ticklish?” He was close enough to sleep that her song teased the edge of his consciousness, sultry and... oh —his eyes flew open under his cloth, and the song slipped away. It didn’t matter though because he felt the vibrations of Marinette’s laughter in his chest, as her hand slid teasingly down to rest lower on his belly.

“No,” she murmured. “Definitely not ticklish.” 

He swallowed. “Oh.” She giggled again, and he felt her tongue flick against his neck, and her nose nuzzled his jaw. 

“You smell good,” she sighed, cuddling closer, and then she was asleep again.

Luka picked up her hand, moving it back up to his chest and breathing slowly as he tried to calm himself after that unexpected discovery. He would have to be more careful how he touched her. He had no idea that he was touching a sensitive place. He was lucky she hadn’t shoved him off the rock, but...she hadn’t. He’d been touching her intimately, turning her on, and she hadn’t done anything more than tease him about it. She hadn’t even really made him move his hand away, just insisted he stop moving. 

He was glad she was asleep, because his heart was suddenly pounding beneath her hand. She shifted slightly even as he thought it, which didn’t help matters. He closed his eyes and did a breathing exercise, shifting his focus to his magic, calling the song of the meadow into his mind. It took some time, but he managed to calm his body, and then, focusing on Marinette’s deep breathing and the scent of her hair, to drift off into a light doze himself. 

He woke at the soft brush of the handkerchief sliding off his face. Blinking, he found Marinette’s face inches from his. She was propped up on the slope of the rock next to him, but she was half on top of him, folded arms leaning on his chest as she looked at him. He smiled slowly. “Hi.” 

Marinette giggled. “You snore.”

Luka snorted, amused. “So would you, with your head tilted back that way.” He made a face as he tilted his head, stretching his stiff neck. “Ow.” 

Marinette made a sympathetic noise, and nuzzled his jaw, which woke him up considerably and reminded him of what he’d been thinking before he fell asleep. “It was a lovely nap, for me,” she said. “You’re very comfortable.” 

“High praise,” Luka sighed, and smiled at her, taking a breath as he gathered his courage. “May I ask you something? About nagas. I’ve been reading, but...human texts, you know. Biased.” 

She made an inquisitive noise, toying with the lacing of his shirt. “Ask.”

“Do nagas kiss?” he asked, and fought to hide his amusement as Marinette’s eyes widened slightly in surprise and her cheeks pinked. She looked away for just a moment and then fixed her gaze on him, shifting a bit higher so that her face was level with his, leaning an elbow by his head. She was so close he could have counted the pale, barely-there freckles across her nose, if he could’ve made himself look away from her eyes. 

“Yes,” she chuckled, “But maybe not quite like you.” She winked at him and flicked her long tongue out, and he felt his own cheeks flush. 

“Good to know,” he said, and had to clear his throat. 

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Do you want to kiss me?”

If he hadn’t been blushing before, he would be now, but he kept his eyes on her and admitted, “I really want to kiss you.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened, and so did the slits of her pupils, and he felt her go tense all along her long body, everywhere it was pressed against his. Moving slowly, he brought his hand up and cupped her cheek. A quick tremor went down her body, and her hands flexed against his chest as she leaned into his touch. “May I?” he asked, 

She nodded, and he drew her to him, leaning up to meet her as much as he could while she was still leaning on his chest. He kissed her lightly, brushing his lips against hers, and then kissed her again, still softly but firmer and more lingering. He felt an intense thrill at the feel of her fangs behind those plush lips and kissed her harder without meaning to. He drew back, relishing the sound of the soft click. 

He watched, enchanted, as Marinette’s eyes fluttered open and she looked at him, a shy smile curling her lips. Luka was fighting the grin that wanted to spread from ear to ear, trying to keep it to something sane and not frightening, when Marinette’s face fell slightly. Cold fear settled in his stomach as her brow furrowed.  

“Humans,” she paused. “Humans kiss family, right? Friends? It’s not—I mean—you don’t—” 

Quickly Luka picked up her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. “Humans kiss friends or family like this,” he murmured, and then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Or this. Or…” He kissed her temple, and then her forehead. “Like that. But this—” He kissed her lips again, harder and longer than before, the hand still on her cheek sliding back into her hair to tilt her to a better angle. “That,” he breathed, “is for lovers. Or...people hoping to become lovers. Courting couples.” 

Marinette stared at him for a moment, cheeks pink and lips reddened, and he watched that beautiful mouth as it opened slightly and then formed to make her quiet, “ Oh. ” Her tongue flickered nervously, distractingly. “Are we courting?” 

Luka forced his gaze back up to her eyes. “I am definitely courting you,” he said with a grin, and then sobered as he watched her flustered reaction, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly, and the sudden, restless shifting of her serpentine body. “Should I stop?” he asked, as gently as he could, though his pulse was pounding in his ears. 

“No,” she whispered, leaning closer, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. “Don’t stop.” 

Relief made him urgent as he pulled her back and kissed her again, wrapping an arm around her back to keep her close. He felt her own arms slide up around his neck, her body pressing him back against the stone. Her tongue flickered against his lips, and he parted his lips to return the gesture. Her tongue filled his mouth before he could do anything, and he made a rather embarrassing noise. Marinette drew back and looked at him, adorably pink except for her reddened lips. “Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “Did I—”

“You’re fine,” he told her. “You’re amazing. Do it again?” 

Giggling, Marinette kissed him again, and this time her tongue flickered in his mouth and made him chuckle. “Hold still?” he asked, the next time they broke, and Marinette did as he pressed his mouth to hers, and then slipped his own tongue inside her mouth, mindful of her fangs. The noise she made and the way her hands flexed against his chest were ample compensation for the danger as far as Luka was concerned. She held absolutely still until he withdrew, and then she came alive with a small whimper, wrapping her arms around his neck as her body slid into his lap to bring her closer. 

The kissing went on, a soft, slow, sensual exploration. Luka flinched and Marinette froze at the taste of blood on her tongue. 

“Oh no,” Marinette gasped, brushing a thumb over his lip and looking at the bright smear on her thumb in horror. 

Luka just laughed quietly. “It’s okay, it’s just a scratch.”

“But I hurt you,” she said, clearly upset. Luka caught her hand and twined his fingers through hers, reaching up to cup her cheek in his other hand. 

“We could as easily say I hurt myself,” he teased. “It’s not as if I wasn’t an active participant. It’s okay. It’s probably going to happen. I don’t mind. I think it would feel too much like a dream otherwise.”

Marinette just stared at him unhappily. Luka sighed, and then smiled at her smiling as he lifted the fingers of one hand to his lips, and hummed a quiet tune. In a flash of blue light, the cut was gone. 

“See?” he grinned. “Now will you kiss me again?”

Marinette moved towards him, but hesitantly. 

There was nothing hesitant in the way Luka kissed her, though, and after a moment she melted back into him with a helpless noise that shot straight down his spine. 

It was hard, leaving her that day, even as he whispered promises to come again soon between sweet, soft kisses from already bruised lips. He could hear, faintly, her song, swelling with her joy—joy to be with him , to be cared for by him, and his own soul sang with it. 

Juleka took one look at him when he got home and groaned. “Don’t tell me, I don’t want to hear it,” she grumbled.

“Oh, it’s so romantic though,” Rose sighed.

Luka ignored them both. 

***

There was a lot of kissing, after that day. They spent hours tangled together on the big rock, sleeping, kissing, and talking in turn. Sometimes he teased her and Marinette chased him playfully around the meadow, reveling in his laugh and the joy in his voice. He brought a ball one day and set up a frame with sticks, and they had a day full of laughter as they tried to adapt the game he knew into something she could play. He kept tripping over her tail and eventually they just ended up tangled together in the grass, laughing so hard they were breathless even before the kissing started.

He brought her more gifts. It was a custom among courting humans, he said, which made Marinette blush when she thought of the gifts she had left him before they officially met. He’d brought a package of his favorite sweets for her to try, some dye plants that grew in one of the other places he drew magic from, and flowers that she had never seen before from a garden he’d visited. All of his gifts were thoughtful and precious, and Marinette felt rather spoiled.

She came up with a plan, and worked eagerly on it on the days he didn’t visit her. He’d complained to her before that the pouch he used for his magic crystals had a habit of slipping from his belt if he wasn’t paying attention, and she had noticed it was rather worn. Marinette was delighted at the way Luka’s jaw dropped when she presented him with a new leather pouch, with sturdy loops to hang on his belt and a fold over flap that buckled so he didn’t have to remove it to open it. She had embroidered it all over in the blues and greens he seemed to favor. She had only been slightly annoyed when the silly man wouldn’t stop kissing her long enough to put it on. 

It gave her a little thrill to see him wearing it now, and the little smile he wore whenever he opened it or stowed his crystals away made her heart flutter happily, especially when he looked up from it to gaze softly at her.

That almost always led to more kissing, and that was just a bonus.

They were napping together on the rock again, after trading lazy kisses and touches that had been growing steadily bolder. She no longer moved away when his rough fingers played along the transition between scales and skin, setting her nerves alight, and he permitted her touch anywhere she dared to bestow it, whether with her hands or lips or her body. She quite enjoyed teasing him, and he made it clear that he enjoyed it too. She took a special delight in the way he tensed when she slid across his lap, and the way his big hands flexed on her, the slight jump of his hips. Not that she was any better when he stroked his big hands along her body, looking at her with an intensity in his eyes that melted her on the spot. 

Marinette woke first, and roused herself with a stretch, before settling back against Luka’s chest. She had made him a little pillow to go behind his neck, to keep him from hurting himself in their little naps, and he wasn’t snoring now. She slipped away the bit of cloth he always covered his face with and admired the lines of his nose and jaw. She reached up to play with the strands of his hair. In sleep like this, he looked so delicate. 

Delicate he may seem to her physically, but the strength of his character was more than enough to satisfy both her heart and her instincts. Those instincts were growing harder to resist by the day. Alya had given Marinette a horrified look the other day, when she found Marinette humming and sewing pillows to line the rock hollow where she slept—pillows that a naga had no need of.

“I like the feeling,” Marinette lied with a nonchalant shrug.

“You’re nesting ,” Alya had accused with narrowed eyes. 

“Don’t be silly,” Marinette had sniffed, and turned her back, and refused to answer anything else. 

Because if Alya knew...oh if Alya knew the kind of urges Marinette was fighting when she was with Luka...well. 

Marinette reached out one clawed finger and ran the back of it down his temple and across his cheek, causing him to stir slightly. His hips raised up against her, where she was draped across him, and he moaned softly. Marinette slid her body up his and kissed him, softly at first, and then deeply when he woke and began to respond to her, his hands going to her waist, and then sliding up to her ribs. He moved against her again, and his arms tightened around her. 

Marinette pulled back, pushing Luka back down as he made to follow her. He blinked at her sleepily, lids heavy with sleep and, she was sure, desire.

He desired her. 

“I could kill you,” she murmured, her fingertips stroking lightly down his face. His eyes, though half-closed eyes, were focused on her. Luka lifted his chin so that her fingers slid down onto his throat. She felt his pulse under her fingers, only the thinnest of barriers between her claws and his life’s blood pounding through his veins. If she slashed, he would not even be able to sing himself well. Yet he lay there, calm and unafraid, yearning towards her instead of cringing away. Gods, she wanted him. 

Marinette’s breath quickened and her pupils broadened. She laid her forehead against his and her tongue flicked out of its own accord to scent the scent air between them. “Fool,” she whispered harshly, with just the slightest tightening of her fingers. 

Luka chuckled, and she felt the vibration of his voice against her fingers. “So I’ve been told.” 

Did he know what he was doing to her? Should she tell him? This was dangerous territory, far more than the harmless flirting, the little chases and the touches that could mean anything or nothing, even the kissing that said they were more than friends, even more than the spiraling tension between them that made her insides heat and made her crave his hands and mouth on her. She couldn’t let him make gestures like this as if it were nothing.

Especially when she didn’t want it to be nothing. She didn’t want it to be meaningless. It was wrong of her to let this happen. She didn’t need to mark him to satisfy the desire burning between them. She didn’t need to claim him, but...

Even as she thought these things she was lowering her head. She felt him gasp as she pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat. She shifted slightly, opening her mouth and feeling her fangs come forward to hover over his skin. 

He was breathing hard beneath her, but she scented no fear on him, only…

What she scented made her eyes dilate further, her coils shift and tighten with the urge to wrap around him. As she struggled with herself, Luka’s hand slid up from her waist, up her back to twist his fingers into her hair as his body arched against her, and her tongue flickered again, bringing in that intoxicating scent. Luka moaned as it tickled his skin. 

“You should be frightened,” she breathed against neck.

“I’m terrified,” he rasped, and his thick voice sent a shiver through her. “You frighten me more than anything in this life.” She felt him swallow. “Because I love you, and the more time I spend with you, the more terrified I am that I will never be happy without you again.” 

Marinette keened into his neck, a shiver going down her whole body. “I want to keep you,” she admitted roughly. “I shouldn’t, but I want to.” 

“You already have me,” he said roughly, his grip on her hair tightening. “I don’t need promises. We don’t have to decide forever right now.” The hand on her waist moved away, and he gently pulled her clawed hand from his throat and twined his fingers through hers. “I want you. If you want me—”

She surged up, fangs finally settling back, and kissed him fiercely, filling his mouth with her tongue. “Yes,” she panted against him, finally letting herself wrap around his waist.  

“Then we need to get the hell off this rock,” Luka laughed into her mouth, tugging on her hair to bare her throat where he could lavish kisses along it. He nipped her lightly with his blunt teeth and she jolted and let out a moan of her own. “Right now.” 

Marinette giggled, and flipped them off onto the soft grass, cushioning him with her body.

“What shall I do with you?” she teased, hovering over him, and her tongue flicked out rapidly, tickling his ear and the line of his jaw and the hollow of his throat. He let out a little moan.

“Anything. Everything. Just don’t rip my clothes,” he chuckled. “I’m going to have to walk home eventually.” 

Marinette laughed, rising up above him as she tugged loose the laces holding her vest closed. “What makes you think you’re still going to be able to walk?” she asked, as she slid the garment off her shoulders and dropped it carelessly in the grass. 

Luka, staring up at her, could only make a strangled noise in reply.

Marinette swooped down and kissed him, pressing herself into him as she buried one hand in his hair and drew the other firmly down his chest to rest low on his belly. “Now take these off,” she ordered, claws flexing against the cloth. “Or I make no promises about ripping them.” 

Luka caught her face in his hands and pulled her back into a fierce kiss that had her moaning against him. “Let me up,” he growled, and she did, sliding off of him and backing up until he had the space to stand and unlace his shirt and pants. Marinette watched him undress hungrily, his eyes burning her in return. Yet, when he held his arms out for her, she felt suddenly shy, and glided up to him, not with reluctance, but with something like reverence. 

“You are beautiful,” she sighed, fingers tracing the lines of muscle down his chest. She sank lower as she ran her fingers along his hips and down his legs, fascinated. “You’re shaking,” she observed, tongue flicking out, but she still tasted no fear on him. She looked up at him as his fingers combed through her hair, and the look he was giving her sent her own pupils wide and round.

Luka’s knees buckled and he sank to the grass in front of her, catching her face to pull her to him in a fierce, hungry kiss. One hand reached to stroke the place on her waist where scales met skin, while the other guided her hand back to his leg. She pressed her fingers into his warm, soft skin, mindful of her sharp claws. He was strong here, muscle hard beneath his skin, flexing under her touch as he moved against her. Her head tipped back and her lips parted, and he moaned as she rubbed up against him. She sank back in the grass with a needy whine, pulling him with her. 

There was some fumbling, and some adjustment, and some breathless, helpless giggles that melted into messy, deep kissing, but when they got it right, when they found the rhythm...it was magic. Shuddering and writhing, Marinette remembered just in time to dig her claws into the ground instead of his shoulders, and the cry he made seemed to sink into her soul, and she had just enough wit left to wonder if it was the magic of his voice or just the sound of his pleasure that shot through her, before she lost herself completely with a cry of her own. 

Her coils loosened and relaxed where they had tightened around him, and slipped down to puddle inelegantly on the ground. The two of them lay in a heap, quivering and panting. They squirmed around until they could hold each other, and then gave into the weakness, laying there in blissful contentment. 

Marinette reached up, and brushed a hand along her neck. The skin there was tender, but not broken. Not marked. Not claimed.

Of course not. 

But she felt claimed, when Luka’s eyes fluttered open and fixed on her, and he smiled. She felt bound, as he lifted himself up on one quivering arm, to bend and press his lips softly to hers. He bent to rest his forehead against hers, and it felt like home. 

“I think I love you too,” she breathed, and he pulled back just enough to blink sleepy eyes at her and smile. He lifted one of her hands and kissed the knuckle of each finger, and then pressed his lips to her palm, and then pressed her palm to his heart as he leaned closer and kissed her tenderly. 

If she stayed with him, she would never have the kind of mate bond that her parents had, that Alya and Nino had. There would always be compromises, always. Challenges. 

She didn’t want to think about that. Luka had said she didn’t have to, so Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself into him. He curled his arms around her and returned the embrace, squeezing her tight. Marinette closed her eyes and tilted her chin up, and Luka nuzzled under it, kissed her neck, and bit lightly at her already tender skin. For a moment, she let herself pretend that the soft press of his blunt teeth meant more than it could. 

“I love you,” he sighed against her skin. “My Marinette.” 

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