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writingscraps · 2 years ago

Text

Midnight Teasing

ao3 | ff.net

ship: Marinette x Chat Noir

rating: T (might go up)

summary:

“Sometimes you take it too far, Chat. What will you do if I fall in love with you?” Marinette challenged, allowing the casual act of his kiss-on-hand take place before releasing said hand.

“Then I’ll simply love you back,” he vowed, leaning closer towards her with a toothy grin taking a stance as he winked at her.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her eyebrows knitting together as they stared at him with low confidence. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, silly cat.”

Usually, Chat Noir didn’t stop by the Dupain-Cheng residence for the baked goods, but he couldn’t deny just how heavenly they truly were against his tongue. The cat-boy merrily sat on his friend’s chaise, with his legs crossed underneath him, munching as he held a plate of what-used-to-be-full of freshly-out-the-oven gingerbread cookies in his hands. It smelt like Christmas, appropriate considering the time of year; and although he knew it was probably the too-many baked goods, it gave his tummy a fuzzy feeling.

“Sorry, Princess,” he sighed contently, softly placing the plate on the floor as he began laying down, unfolding his body about the upholstered sofa, stretching his arms above his head while extending the tips of his boots outwardly, yawning exaggeratedly. “You weren’t fast enough to get your share of the cookies.”

Marinette huffed, stopping the concentration she had been giving her sewing machine as she worked on a project, turning her body to stare at the superhero lounging lazily. “Chat, you seriously ate all the cookies?” She wanted to be upset, but as she watched the boy nod with no resentment whatsoever, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes in an endearing manner. “One cookie, Chat. Just one.”

“I don’t think you would have liked them very much. Too gingery.”

“Aha. Says the cat that ate all of them.”

He seemed too comfortable, making her own droopy eyes want to shut, pretty tired herself. It was then that she began rolling her chair towards her monitor as she wondered about the time, not realizing just how late it was. She needed to be in bed now, and that meant it was time to kick her good ole’ friend out the window – even if she didn’t want to.

“Well, Chat,” she sighed, standing with a light stretch, “it’s time to call it a night.”

“You’re not seriously kicking me out because I ate all the cookies?”

Marinette laughed out loud at his offended tone, shaking her head, “Although it is a good enough reason, that is not why. But I do have school tomorrow.”

Chat Noir was quick to sit up on his knees, observing the young girl try and pop her back by placing her palms against her hips as she arched her pelvis forward. Her eyes closed momentarily as she scrunched her nose. He shouldn’t had been drawn by her simple movements, but he couldn’t deny that was.

“Need some help?” He called after her, a teasing tone – rather than a genuine one – skipped towards her just as she opened her eyes to glare at him.

She scoffed, her own playful grin spreading about her cheeks as she shook her head, “I’ve got it, but thanks.”

And as though having the need to play his part, the superhero too easily and too quickly crawled out the sofa to make his way towards her. Within a blink of an eye, her abnormally large eyes stared directly into his green ones just as he stood in front of her. “If you’d let me, I can help you feel good,” he promised, his voice hoarse and low, with his lips just a tad too close to hers. He seemed serious, no goofy grin faltering his demeanor as she felt the claws of his gloves softly skim down her forearm unexpectedly.

“Chat.” Marinette groaned, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed at the intentional misinterpretation to his comment. “Out,” she demanded, attempting to back away from him, but her clumsiness never failing to take a part of her everyday life caused her to stumble backwards. She was casually rescued by the fast reflexes that were of the suave kitty-cat.

His hands hooked around her back just as she was about to crash against her floor, and her cheeks were steaming. She could feel the burning sensation dragging itself up her throat and over her cheeks towards her ears. Chat Noir simply chuckled delightfully, “Princess, you simply must stop falling me.”

Such an overused line, but that didn’t stop her heart from beating so hard against her chest. “Chat,” she sighed, very obviously annoyed as she attempted to escape his grip.

These interactions had begun feelings like a cat-and-mouse-chase, but if she were being honestly, she hadn’t attempted to stop his teasing advancements past their usual bantering. She never truly paid them much attention, because usually they weren’t much to them; now, they’ve began getting out of hand.

“You sure love saying my name,” he grinned shamelessly.

After a few wiggles, the young girl was freed, as the blonde boy swiftly pulled them up and quickly reached for her hand to kiss. “Oh, don’t be mad,” he sing-sang, “I was simply teasing.”

“Sometimes you take it too far, Chat. What will you do if I fall in love with you?” Marinette challenged, allowing the casual act of his kiss-on-hand take place before releasing said hand.

“Then I’ll simply love you back,” he vowed, leaning closer towards her with a toothy grin taking a stance as he winked at her.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her eyebrows knitting together as they stared at him with low confidence. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, silly cat.”

Marinette tossed and turned actually upset now because she had been dying to go sleep not too long ago when Chat Noir was still in her bedroom. If it hadn’t been for his very casual Casanova mannerisms, she wouldn’t have him running around her mind. It wasn’t that she was in love with Chat Noir, but she also wasn’t blind and could secretly admit that he was a very attractive superhero – even if just to herself.

But only as far as that.

But sometimes he was too smooth with his teasing words, she’d find herself wanting to believe them. She huffed, smacking her bed with a flat palm, groaning loudly.

“Marinette,” Tikki called, her voice in a hushed whisper having been woken up suddenly. “Are you alright?”

“He can be so- so- ugh!”

“You’re still upset about Chat Noir?” Her Kwami inquired, as the magical creature had been a firsthand witness to the development of Chat Noir’s flirtatiousness over the single year that he had found himself climbing into her bedroom. Their interactions began very causal and light, until they weren’t.

Marinette had never had a problem pushing him away with just the tip of her finger against his nose, but each passing visitation, she’d stutter and find herself wanting to melt into a puddle. But she didn’t like him like that, or so her holder swore.

Marinette wanted to lie and say ‘no’, but she was still very much upset. What game was he playing?

“You know, Tikki,” Marinette spoke into her dark bedroom, illuminated by her the uncovered windows and skylight right above her, “I bet he wouldn’t be as poised if...”

After a pause too long, Tikki called after her, “If what, Marinette?”

The young girl chuckled out loud in a very much “I can’t believe I’m going to do this” tone, as she dragged a palm down her face, answering, “Oh, nothing, Tikki. I’m just venting.”

-:-

Four days. Four days!

Why hadn’t Chat Noir paid a visit in such a long time? So, it wasn’t a long time, as they’d actually had gone much longer without seeing each other as civilian and superhero. But still.

It was past ten at night, Marinette noticed, a smile tugging at her lips as she clipped a few loose strands from the scarf she had been working on. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Alya, that she had been making Chat Noir a scarf as a Christmas gift. It was a very simple design; fully black with neon-green thin lines as a pattern, and a small paw in the corner. Very on-brand. She didn’t think it’d keep him warm, if he decided to use it as outwear, but it was the thought that counted.

She folded the scarf and neatly stuffed it inside the decorative paper bag, along with some catnip as an inside joke, where she had planned to gift it in. Tikki had gone to bed a while back, and Marinette had almost given in until she heard a very light knock coming from her skylight.

She didn’t want to smile as big as her lips were widening, but she couldn’t contain herself. Tonight would be the night Chat Noir had a taste of his own medicine.

“Two cookies? That’s all?” Chat Noir groaned when Marinette climbed up the stairs from her kitchen with a plate of said cookies and a glass full of milk. She knew he was the holder of the cat miraculous, but did he really have to play the role so seriously?

Marinette scoffed, handing him the dishes, “After what you pulled last time, do you really think I’m risking my cookies?”

He sighed drastically, “Alas, I will accept them. A short-lived joy, but joy nevertheless.”

She laughed, never a dull thing coming out of his mouth, responding with her typical eye-roll when it came to him. “Just eat them, Chat.”

It was past midnight when Chat Noir noticed his friend yawn softly, covering her mouth with both hands. Cute. She had been sitting on her chaise, her back against the sofa as she had been watching the cat-boy straddling her pink desk chair as he twirled. He had stopped not long ago when he accidently unbalanced the chair by drifting too far to the side, abandoning the chair all together after she began laughing hysterically at him. He hadn’t thought it was that funny. He, instead, casually reaching for a sketchbook that had been laying by her desktop computer and flipped it open.

“Feeling sleepy, Princess?” Chat Noir asked, taking a moment to stop skimming through the pages of endless designs to look up at her.

“Just a little.” She answered truthfully, not wanting him to leave. Not yet. She was on a mission.

“Maybe,” he cleared his throat, closing the sketchbook loud enough to startle her before placing it back on the desk. She recognized that gaze. It was like his whole persona changed, as though he was trying to catch his prey.

His lips easily turned into a smirk as he made his way to her, not wasting time and placing each hand on each side of her torso, trapping her in position. “...we should go to bed.”

Marinette wanted to laugh, she wanted to smack him silly, because the way he talked to her he definitely practiced in front of a mirror.

“I will be going to bed,” she said, “you will be going home.” This time she didn’t attempt pushing him away, as she typically would.

Stick to it, Marinette. Stick to it.

There was a swirl at the pit of her stomach, her eyes daring and confident as they tried to match those of Chat Noir.

“So, no sleepover?” He continued to tease, his posture lowering slightly. His mouth skid itself against her cheek, and she did shiver this time. Although very lightly, his lips bumped onto her skin, not stopping until reaching her jawline just before reaching the crook of her neck.

Odd. Usually, she’d stop him before he’d get this far.

He pulled away slightly, searching her eyes, but they were tightly shut with a veil of rosy cheeks on her face. She was nervous, but he’d always manage to make her nervous. That was why he loved teasing her so much. She was so easy to taunt, it was adorable. She’d smack him away, ask him to go away, and he’d go away but always came back.

She knew he didn’t mean any of those things. That was the set-up of their game.

When Marinette stopped feeling Chat Noir’s breathing on her cheek, she opened her eyes, staring at him behind her long eyelashes. He was so close.

She smelled of vanilla; intoxicatingly sweet. Her back was still pushed against the reclining of the sofa, now staring at him with doe-like eyes with her lower lip pouted down. She was wearing her usual pigtails, hovering messily over and behind her almost bare shoulders, as she waited, it seemed.

“Don’t tease.” She called after him, her voice low and soft and enchanting. Her whisper almost seemed like a fragment of his very attentive imagination. He could hear her breathing very clearly considering how close she was to him. She could feel his breathing press against her nose.

“W-what?” He called after her, feeling like he had been pulled out of a daze, not expecting to get this far. Never this far.

“You promised,” she muttered, “that you would...”

He could feel a knot begin to suffocate his throat. “Th-that I would...?”

Marinette’s eyelashes fluttered quickly, her now droopy eyelids shifting her eyes to stare down at his mouth. She pushed herself slightly forward, but not kissing him, just close enough to breathe him in.

“...not tease,” she finally finished her statement, her lips turning into a bashful smile. It was small and bashful but bewitching nonetheless. But before she could begin laughing and poke fun for always teasing her about such things, and relish on the victory that she finally did it back, Chat Noir bumped his mouth into hers.

Marinette’s eyes went wide as she felt his lips harshly press into hers, as one of his hands easily wrapped itself behind her back while the other took hold of her face. His clawed hand cupped her ear, with its fingers digging into her hair and adjusting her head’s posture.

His kiss was rough at first, taking as much as he could of her. His teeth scraped her top lip, gently tugging against, subtly whimpering at her. Her mouth widen so easily at his demand, pushing herself forward, ignoring the flutter of ladybug wings flapping at the pit of her stomach.

She should have pushed him away, she wanted to push him away – maybe? Her hands didn’t know what to do, as she hadn’t expected anything out of this game. She was supposed to be laughing at him, not melting like room-temperature butter.

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