#in the first one I slept in Van Winkle land and woke up to some Unhappy Property Owners

[guiltyidealist]

SO APPARENTLY PACKS CAN CHASE YOU IN GROUPS OF FUCKING 4 NOW

[knifedancer]

Emotional Security

Felinette Drabble inspired by a recent interaction with my partner (Mr. Knifey). Just our lovely couple having a sweet moment together, letting down some emotional barriers.

Aged up, established relationship, identities known, post-Argos redemption.

~~~~~~~

Marinette tilted her head up as she sensed her human pillow shift, watching as her boyfriend slowly emerged from his three hour nap with a yawn. His blond hair, usually styled with gel, was mussed from the extended contact with her pillow. His clothes were untucked and wrinkled, the top few buttons undone to reveal pale collar bones adorned with the remnants of a small love bite -- evidence of their affections but low enough for his shirt collar to hide from prying eyes -- and the silver chain from which currently hung his miraculous. The hand on her waist tensed, pulling her tighter against his long lanky frame as if to reassure himself of her presence in his half-awake state, while the one at her shoulder rose to rub the sand roughly from his long lashes.

"Greetings, Rip Van Winkle, how was your nap?" She murmured sweetly, enamored by the way his pale lips upturned into a small sleepy smile at her voice.

"Mm, excellent. What time is it?" His voice was husky with sleep, making Marinette's heart beat race at the tone. She watched as he groaned, the hand on his face now pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

Running a hand up his chest to rest over his sternum, she nuzzled into his shoulder playfully. "It's 5:38, sleepy head."

With a start, two pale green eyes opened and looked at her in shock. Marinette smiled as the residual haze of slumber finally lifted and his usual sharp gaze took in their surroundings -- her pink room, the magazine cutouts and drawings pinned to the walls, his tie and vest neatly strewn atop her chaise, their two kwamis asleep in a toy hammock in the corner, the waning daylight through the overhead skylight, and finally her bedside alarm clock -- before his chest rose with a quick intake of breath. "What... How did I sleep for so long?"

She snorted softly, "Really? You woke me up early, promptly whisked me away after to have brunch, took me shopping, and insisted on helping me with the akuma earlier... all this after your three hour train ride from London!"

"Do you blame me, Tib? I missed you." The young man cupped her cheek, his eyes glowing with love.

She returned it with an exasperated, deadpan stare. "...The train you caught was less than an hour after your flight landed from New York. Have you slept at all in the last twenty-four hours?"

The blond rolled his eyes while his fingers tinkered with the tangled strands of one haphazard pigtail, "As if you're one to talk about getting rest, Miss Guardian. Don't think I don't know that you've been staying up all night designing again."

Marinette gasped, "Who told?!"

Her boyfriend grinned and his eyes twinkled with mirth, "My cousin."

"Et tu, Adrien?" She huffed, feeling Felix beneath her chuckle as he pulled her tightly against him again.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, drinking in each other's presence for the first time in several weeks, happy to simply be. No words needed to be said when their hearts spoke volumes. Wrapped in their own little cocoon as the muffled sounds of Paris drifted up through her window from the city below.

Finally, Marinette broke the warm stillness with a soft snort. The blond raised a questioning eyebrow at the sound. "You know, if I was any other woman, I think you would be in trouble right now."

"How so?" He scrunched his brow, watching her with a slight frown.

"You napped for so long, any other woman would feel neglected from your lack of attention," she dramatically tossed her head off to the side as she had seen Chloe do on many occasions. "I've been a gaming widow before so I can handle it."

A mocking half grin spread across his features, "You mean you caused gaming widowers."

Smiling mischievously, she scoffed but he cut her off with a finger to her lips. It was then that she noticed the lingering shadows around his eyes and the vulnerable gleam in their green depths. His words came out as a soft whisper, as if he were afraid to be overheard. "Is it so wrong that I feel safe with you beside me?"

Raising her hand to his face, she watched as Felix turned to nuzzle into her palm with a sigh. She kept her tone warm and loving, hoping it would cover the concern bubbling up inside her heart at his sudden change in behavior, "No, of course not, my dove. I'm so glad I make you feel safe..."

"...you're so warm and soft, comforting, that I just...my heart cried 'home' and I fell asleep," he murmured, his words like a whispered confession as pale lips trembled against her skin.

The intimacy of his tone left her speechless as she stared at her boyfriend. Felix was often stoic or mocking, keeping everyone at arm's length with biting comments... Hell, his primary love language even appeared more often as teasing banter sheathed in a mirage of scorn. The moments in which he revealed his softer side were infrequent and reserved for the select few that he cared about, Marinette receiving the bulk of it after his mother. However, even then, there was still a piece of him left guarded that no one could touch. Amelie had hinted at a rough childhood but wouldn't go into details, simply giving the young designer the advice to have patience and make him feel loved.

The exposed man before her was so different from the one that stole her heart that she scarcely remembered to breathe! Perhaps the prolonged exposure to Duusu was attuning him more to his emotions? As the silence dragged on, Marinette noted the way his eyelids pressed closed and he drew shakier breaths, as if trying to suppress something deep inside. She could tell he was at his emotional limit, his muscles growing as taut as a wound spring as his defenses began to rise in the deafening silence. She needed to do something to assure him of his well-being while still leaving room for this new emotional territory their relationship had expanded into...

Taking a cue from his love language, the bluenette shook free of his tight grip and climbed on top of him with a playful smile, bracketing his face between her forearms as his hands unconsciously found purchase on her hips as she hovered over him. Guarded green eyes searched her face silently, as if waiting for a strike. "Are you saying I'm so boring that I put you to sleep, Mr. Fathom?"

He smirked, a light growl emitting from the back of his throat as she leaned in closer. "Oh I'll show you how boring you are, Love..."

They would both be tired and sore tomorrow but they certainly weren't bored the rest of the night. And Marinette certainly couldn't complain about his lack of attention.

~~~~References:

Rip Van Winkle: Dutch-American folktale about a man that, while out squirrel hunting to avoid his nagging wife, falls asleep for twenty years after imbibing in alcohol with strange mountain men.

Tib: Medieval term of endearment meaning "calf", because ladybugs are sometimes called ladycows. Also became a way to refer to young women of a lower class, also sweetheart, in the 1530s.

Dove: Victorian term of endearment, some breeds mate for life, felt it was fitting for the peacock (bird) holder.