This has a plot but it's a thin excuse for straight smut. I have no shame.
The Boiling Point
When Adrien wakes up this morning he isn't expecting to have sex with the love of his life. In fact, he's barely expecting to even see her, or talk to her if he does. And if by some miracle he does get to talk to her today, he is definitely is not expecting sex to be involved. Not in a million years.
But when Adrien is wrong, boy is he wrong.
Ever since the accidental reveal of their identities two months ago, the tension has been as thick as honey between themㅡlike a live thing, a simmering broth, a dangerous wire that neither of them are brave enough to touch. The elephant in the air. Marinette is in love with Adrien and Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. They both know this because they've both rejected each other at some point in the past.
So what does it mean now that they are two people instead of four? He doesn't know and he's terrified to ask. So it all goes unsaid.
They go about their days. Chat stops flirting with Ladybug. Marinette's stammer disappears overnight. They see each other on the ENS campus sometimes between classes and wave nervously, smiling with the knowledge of their shared secret and the trust it entails. They go on patrol together at night as usual and converse about nothing of importance. University life, his father's latest attempts to get him back into modeling, her parents' latest baking endeavors, Nino and Alya's latest break-up slash make-up. Sometimes they bring their homework along and sit together in comfortable silence when their legs are too tired to go on. Adrien knows that come what may they will always be the best of friends. But he doesn't kiss her hand anymore, because underneath Ladybug's mask that was Marinette who was always pulling her hand away. He's sure his heart couldn't take it if she were to pull away now, with the knowledge they have.
On these nights where they linger after patrol to study together he drags out his departure until the wee hours of the morning. Then he stays up until dawn staring at the city lights through the bedroom window of his apartment, resting his forehead on the glass as the mysterious glitter of the city gives way to the rising sun. On these nights he toys with that heartbreaking fear he won't look at during the daytime: the fear that the moment their masks disappeared, Marinette realized she must never have loved Adrien that way at all.
The idea kills him but he knows he has to look at it, in the same way he has to pour hydrogen peroxide on his wounds when he gets them. (Though nowadays it's Marinette who does the honors, with tears pricking at her eyes no matter how small the injury.) Because he loves her more than everㅡmore than he ever thought was possibleㅡand he wants more than anything in the universe to sweep her into his arms and make sure she knows that there is nothing in this world he won't do for her. That he'll die for her if the need ever arises.
Marinette, Ladybug. There is no difference to him. Marinette is the proud, unwavering powerhouse and Ladybug is the shy, fumbling artist. When he fell in love there was only one girl, never two, because Ladybug isn't real. She never was. She's just a name, and the color red.
It was Marinette who messed up her throw on the first day they met and tangled their bodies together, stringing them upside-down and chest to chest in the cutest and most standout first impression ever. It was Marinette who stood up there on the support beams of the Eiffel tower after their first victory, boldly declaring her commitment to the safety of Paris. It's Marinette that's saved him time and again and crushes him to her chest whenever he does something particularly reckless. Marinette that makes his heart race. Marinette with the stained glass eyes that haunt his dreams.
He loves her so much it hurts. It tears little pieces of him away every time he sees her. But he will never force himself on her. Given that she hasn't once brought it up, she obviously needs time to sort through her thoughts and emotions. Two months is a long time when you're pining away after your best friend, but he's willing to give her the rest of their lives to think about it if she needs it. And to be honest, he kind of expects to.
Which is why when he wakes up this chilly February morning, he is not expecting to have sex with her today. But that is exactly what happens.
There have been weird akumas before. There have been creepy akumas and dangerous akumas and murderous akumas and downright terrifying akumas. There have been sexual akumas. But none have ever been so sexual as the one that pops up today around noon just north of the airport. He slips out of the lecture hall with a muttered apology to the TA standing in the back when he sees Marinette's coded text.
(meet me 1km north of the airport and bring ur cat ears pls)
He shoots off a quick response and flies across the city to his lady's side.
And when he gets there he almost chokes when Marinette launches into a description of the akuma she's in the midst of fighting. "He's a pig!" she seethes, and he has no time to admire the beauty that is Ladybug in a righteous rage, because the akuma is launching smoke bombs at them and they have to leap out of the way to avoid getting hit. "Don't breathe in that smoke," she warns as they fly through the city square, "whatever you do. This guy is the worst. This is what I've gathered: his girlfriend broke up with him because he cheated on her, and he tried to weasel out of the guilt by claiming to have an addiction to sex. Which she liked even less than him cheating on her. Wonder why!"
Adrien looks over his shoulder at the akuma in question, frowning at his elaborate neon costume and the ugly smirk on his face. "Gross," he agrees, and they both dodge another smoke bomb. "Dare I ask what the smoke does?"
His answer comes in the way of a civilian who doesn't flee fast enough and inhales some of the smoke caught in up the current of the wind. The man's eyes glaze over and he drops his briefcase, looking suddenly very lost. His eyes fall on the man he was fleeing with him until a moment ago, who's a few feet away now, having managed to escape the smoke. Suddenly he launches himself at his friend and kisses him with wild abandon. The other man gasps and throws his hands up, his wide eyes suggesting that although this is not quite unwelcome it's definitely the most shocking thing to happen so far today.
A furtive glance around shows Adrien that these unfortunate pedestrians are not the only ones to fall victim. All around them people are tugging other people into secluded corners.
"Um," Adrien says, and Marinette has to drag him away before the drifting smoke reaches them.
His whole body goes numb as they run. All he can think about is not getting hit with that smoke. Because if he does, well, everything is going to be ruined because he knows with every fiber of his being who he's going to launch himself at if he's hit.
So they fight with the vigor that they usually reserve for the more dangerous akumas, so much so that Adrien has to wonder if Marinette is as terrified of getting hit as he is. They dodge, and attack, and dodge again, and it feels like maybe they're getting somewhere. But then everything goes sideways. As it sometimes happens when both Ladybug and Chat Noir are distracted, the akuma gets the one-up on them. One second they're on the offense and they're inches from snagging his bag of bombs, and the next Chat is thrown bodily into a roadside stand of photo prints and the akuma is reappearing at Ladybug's back. She barely has time to wheel around before he crushes the smoke bomb in his hand. With a glint in his eye, he blows the smoke at her face like it's nothing more than that of a cigarette.
Marinette chokes and coughs it out, but it's too late. She's already breathed it in.
"That's right," the akuma triumphs. "Feel it take ahold of you. Now you know what it's like to feel my addiction." As he lurches to his feet Adrien sees that Marinette's eyes are watering from the smoke, and she coughs again. "To feel that insatiable need. That endless aching wantㅡ" Adrien reaches them and the akuma is silenced when Chat Noir's fist connects solidly with his jaw. The akuma reels and stumbles and falls.
He shifts his gaze to his lady with no idea what to expect. She has her arms wrapped around her stomach and she shivers when his eyes meet hers, then takes another step back. His cat ears twitch toward her. "Princess?" he whispers. He doesn't know what to do or how to help. He can't exactly cataclysm the smoke from her lungs. Can he? No, it doesn't work like that. What can he do?
The akuma cackles from the ground. Marinette gives Adrien a long, lingering, gut-wrenching look, and then sprints away, swinging up onto the nearest roof to escape. But when his baton beeps with a message a moment later, shock whips through his chest.
He looks at it again, blinking. Yes, it definitely says follow me. So like any fool in love he follows her. All the way back to her studio apartment, where he follows her through the balcony door into her living room. He doesn't know what he's expecting. Maybe she needs his help to shake off whatever the akuma did to her. Maybe she is going to ask him to try and cataclysm the smoke from her system. Maybe she's going to kiss him. He doesn't give that last thought any real consideration though until he slides the glass door shut behind him.
As soon as he does, Ladybug launches herself at him.
He falls into the door with an oof and then she's kissing him. Her lips are on his like he's the only thing she's ever wanted and her hands are on his chest, fingers digging into the leather. His stomach flips over and he gives in instantly, parting his lips when he feels her tongue there begging for entry. But when his hands come up subconsciously to cup her face, she sighs, and the precious sound wakes him up. This is wrong.
He pushes her away, just an inch. Just enough to regain his ability to speak. He loves her too much to let her do this.
"Marinette," he says softly, and she whimpers at the sound of her name. "You don't have to do this." It kills him to say it but he does. "You were poisoned. I can't… I can't take advantage of you. We just need to defeat the akuma and you'll feel better. Come on, let'sㅡ"
"No." She's shaking her head and she won't let him push her away. "I can't fight like this," she tells him in a breathy whisper. "You don't understand. IㅡI'm on fire. I can't fight like this, Adrien."
The tone of her voice alarms him; she sounds as though she's on the verge of tears. He moves his hands back to her cheeks, running one thumb reassuringly across the bottom of her mask. "Shh," he soothes, "it's fine. It's okay. We'll find a way to cure you then, before we go back to the battle. But not like this. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, bug."
At the old, fond nickname, she closes her eyes and bites her lip. "You don't understand," she repeats. "I know how to cure it and I want to. Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I really, really want to."
He has no idea what she's talking about, but she's starting to grow hysterical so he stops trying to let her go and instead holds onto her, moving his arms to her waist to steady her as she teeters on the edge of something he can't yet comprehend. "You're right, I don't understand. What are you talking about? Why are you sorry?"
"Because I want this," she breathes, unable to open her eyes and look at him. "I want you."
Despite everything, his heart flutters. "That's the smoke talking," he says numbly. It has to be.
The second he says this she tears herself away from him and detransforms. Tikki takes one haphazard look at them and deduces that they need to be alone, so without a word she takes her leave of them into the hallway. Not knowing what else to do, Adrien follows her cue and banishes Plagg from the room too. When he turns back Marinette is standing near the end of the couch, hugging her chest like she's afraid she'll fall to pieces any moment.
"Adrien," Marinette begins shakily, then worries at her lip and amends it to, "chaton..." and he knows then that what she's about to say has the ability to mend or shatter his heart. "I need you to understand that I'm literally falling apart at the seams right now, and believe me when I say what I'm about to say." She takes in a single haggard breath and says, "I'm still in love with you. I didn't bring you back here because you just happened to be there when I got hit, I did it because I love you and if I have to sleep with someone to cure myself of poison then goddammit I want it to be you."
Adrien short-circuits at the word love and the rest rolls over him like the echo of thunder after a flash of lightning has passed.
"I know this is bad timing," she laments. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell you for months. Figures, right? But I… I really need your help right now. It hurts, Adrien," she admits airily. She must be misinterpreting his gobsmacked silence, because she hugs herself even tighter and draws in a long, shaky breath. "If you don't want to, it's okay," she says suddenly. "I didn't mean to imply that you have to. I can just… I don't know, try and fix it by myself or something?" she squeaks, red creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks at the idea she's implying with the words 'by myself.'
She's so intent on not looking at him that she doesn't see him approaching until his hands are on her face again. He can tell she's mortified by being forced to admit all this and ask him for such a thing; the Ladybug he knows is often far too proud to ask for help. He thinks of the way that stranger threw himself at his companion. The feeling must be incredibly intense for her to open up to him like this, so recklessly.
"Did you really mean all that?" he asks, feeling more vulnerable in this moment than he ever has in his life.
She nods up at him through his hold on her jaw. "Yeah," she says quietly.
"And you want this?" he whispers, a centimeter from her lips.
"Please," she begs, and he couldn't deny her if her if he tried. The pained moan that leaves her mouth when he kisses her again is borderline obscene, and she tenses for a split second, but then goes limp in his arms. As if he shocked her with a taser.
"What kind of partner would I be if I left my lady suffering?" he whispers into her ear after he marks a trail of open kisses there. Marinette's knees buckle. He wonders if she has missed Chat's smooth flirty dialogue since the reveal. He hopes so, because it's about to come back with a vengeance.
His hands trail down her back and move to her hips, which (judging by the way she keeps nudging them into his groin) she's currently doing her best to kill him with. To get even, he continues the trail of kisses down to her neck and flicks his tongue out when he finds her pulse. It quickens. He bares his teeth and grazes them ever so softly across her soft skin, and she finds her voice again. "Chat," she whispers, then bites her tongue when he breaks away to look back at her face.
"I'm still in love with you too," he confesses.
The next thing he knows Marinette is tearing at his shirt. She breaks off two buttons by accident before she allows him take over, dropping the green button-up to the floor behind him. By the time he gets it off Marinette has already freed herself of her flowing sundress, leaving her in nothing but matching black undergarments in front of him. He swears under his breath, and before he's quite done taking in this breathtaking sight, Marinette seizes both of his hands and brings them to her chest. Okay, maybe she does love him, but without the inhalation of that smoke he's absolutely certain she would never have behaved with this level of audacity during their first time. Ladybug may be cool and collected, but underneath that bold exterior Marinette is shy.
Not right now.
Pink tinges her cheeks as he delightedly accepts the invitation to touch her, but it seems more out of pleasure than out of embarrassment for once.
He's dreamt of this for so long. Maybe this isn't how he's always pictured it, but he's so in love that he can't find it in himself to care. The silky black bra parts from her skin as he pushes his thumbs up underneath the wire, and she gasps when he finds what he's looking for; her nipples are hard with desire. Whatever restraint she's been using disappears all at once the second he brushes his thumbs across them. Shivers race along the top curve of her breasts and her fumbling hands find his belt and yank it from his jeans, sending it too to the floor with a clunk. When she tugs his jeans down the curve of his hips, he kicks them off, then lifts her up bridal style to carry her all the way through the apartment to her bedroom.
"Are you sure about this?" he mumbles through another kiss as he lowers her onto the neatly made bedspread. It's covered in flowers and polkadots and it's so 'Marinette.'
"Do I look unsure?" She yanks her bra off without bothering with the clasp, and he has to grin smugly at her earnestness.
"No," he says, climbing on after her and lowering himself on top of her. "But I have to be sure. You were hit with poison, after all, Marinette. I could never…" He trails off, nudging her nose with his. "I love you more than life itself, Mari. I could never live with myself if I were to take unfair advantage of you."
"Please," she scoffs, "if anyone's taking advantage, it's me," and she punctuates the statement by tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs.
He responds by bringing his hips down, settling in the center of her open legs so that his erection is pressed right up against the seam of her underwear. The unfiltered moan she lets out then would have made a prostitute blush. "Please," she begs, all the coyness gone from her voice now. "Don't tease me anymore, I can't take it. I'm dying, Adrien. I need you right now."
"Okay, lovebug," he mutters against her lips, and draws away to drag first her underwear off, savoring the way it slides down her legs like a ribbon from the world's sexiest present, then his. "Do you have protection?"
"No," she admits, "but I'm on the pill. It's okay."
Taking her word for it, he hooks his hands behind her knees, bringing them up on either side of him as he descends. She opens them wider with impatience, lips puffy and ajar, eyes lidded with desire as he drinks in the desperately beautiful and long-desired sight of her waiting for him to enter her. He takes a moment to reel in the fact that their first real kiss was only about five minutes ago. He's barely even touched her yet. As he thinks this he takes a couple fingers and languidly runs them up her exposed skin, going lightheaded when he feels with no mystery exactly how wet she is for him.
"Adrien," she begs, and he finds what he's looking for. She twitches her hips into his hand when he pushes one finger inside her.
"I know," he soothes, and pulls his finger out, replacing it swiftly with what she really wants.
Three little musical "ah"s break in the back of her throat as he pushes in, each one higher in pitch, until he's all the way inside. She's so ready that even without foreplay the fit is no problem, which excites him more than he can possibly say. The incorrigible cat in him crows in triumph. But the gentleman in him pushes himself up onto his elbows and gives her a tender kiss before pulling out slowly, then pushing back in again as gently as sex allows. It may not be a picturesque first time but he wants to make it as pleasurable for her as he can.
Marinette's fingernails dig into his back as he picks up a tantalizingly slow pace, and she adjusts more swiftly than he thought she would. After only three more strokes she's bucking her hips up to meet him. She's muttering under her breath and it's too low to hear, but when he looks up he sees her eyes squeezed shut so tight he worries she'll burst a blood vessel. What's wrong? Is he hurting her?
He touches her temple with the pad of his thumb and slows his pace even more, circling his hips this time instead of coming in straight. A long keening breath comes out of her then and she cracks her eyelids to find him looking at her with a degree of concern.
"Adrien," she says carefully, and he stills above her. Does she want him to stop? All she has to do is say the word; he'd be off of her so fast there'd be a sonic boom. "Chat," she whispers in a manner so sultry he didn't know she was capable of it until now, and his dick stirs inside her of its own accord. "I know you're trying to be a gentleman about this. But I…" She squeezes her eyes shut again. "That akuma's still out there and we need to defeat it soon. Which means I need to be cured as quickly as possible. And I'm not kidding when I say I'm dying over here," she groans, "I'm seriously dying and I just... I'm talking to Chat when I say this," she clarifies. "I need Chat right now, not Adrien, okay? I know this isn't the ideal first time. I know that, and next time there can be candles and music and we can take all night to make love and it can be slow and beautiful and everything we ever wanted. But right now, please don't take this the wrong way, but right now I just need you to fuck me."
Adrien's jaw falls open, the words next time ringing in his ears, the words fuck me surging through his body in his bloodstream and pooling in his dick which is still inside her. In one swift movement he pulls out.
Her eyes fly open. "Oh no, oh no, I'm so sorry. That came out all wrong!"
"Did it?" He wonders with an edge to his voice, and deftly flips her over onto her stomach.
"Adrien?" she squeaks.
"I thought you were talking to Chat," he purrs. Resting on his knees between her legs now with her back to him, he pulls her toward him with her hips before she has a chance to regain her bearings.
Her soft, supple backside comes into contact with his erection and they both breathe in sharply at the sensation. She's finally caught onto his motives, and leans back against him. "You're not.. upset?"
"No," he assures her, "no. It's just…" He pushes her loose hair aside to lick a line up her shoulder to her throat, and nips at it once before speaking again, teasing at her clitoris with his index finger as he does so. She cries out when he pinches it gently and says, "If I'm going to fuck you then I'm going to do it right."
When he plunges back inside her she collapses, and she would have fallen had he not used his other arm to wrap around her waist like a lifeline, drawing her back flush against his chest. True to his word, he fucks her.
He sets a pace so hard and fast that she cries out with every thrust, and reaches overhead to tangle her fingers in his hair, needing something to hang onto as he wrecks her. The evidence of her arousal drips down her leg as he takes what he's always wanted, and he wets his fingers with it before bringing them back to that sweet little bundle of nerves. He swirls his fingertips there with leisure, in a pace completely at odds with the way he moves inside her. On either side of his legs her thighs are trembling, and on a whim he uses his legs to nudge hers apart even wider. When he moves his arm from her waist to her clavicle, it frees her up to arch her lower back away from his chest.
Holy shit, what a difference that makes.
It's hard to tell, but the angle is all different now and he's sure he's making it in a full inch farther than he was a minute ago, especially if the steady stream of nonsensical syllables pouring from Marinette's mouth are any indication. He moves his hand from her sex to the small of her back, arching it just a little more, and this time when he pushes in she gasps.
"Oh my god," she whispers as he pushes in a little slower this time, worried he went in too far. "No, don't stop."
"That was a good gasp?"
"Yes." She nods erratically. "God, yes."
So he does it again, arching her back to reach the tender spot deep inside her that made her cry out like that. He's expecting another gasp, but this time he's rewarded with a desperate mewl so soft he almost doesn't hear it. But he does, and now he's the one who feels wrecked.
"I've waited so long to hear you lose control like this," he whispers into her hair, unable to stop himself. He pulls out slowly and slams in again, all the way to that coveted place. She's whimpering now, and he wants more. He wants her. All of her; as much as she'll let him have. He wants her forever and ever and he wants her to say it. "I've always wanted to make you see stars," he confesses, and does it again, slow and hard. "To make you mine."
Marinette quiets, and cranes her head to look at him. She can barely manage it from this angle but she does. "I was always yours," she says softly, then reaches up to caress his chin with the back of her fingers.
Unable to stop himself, he takes her hand and kisses her fingers. Her lips pucker at him and he smiles back at her wanly. Man, he's really missed doing that. "Say it again," he mumbles, lips still on her knuckles.
She tilts her head at him and bites her lip and it's so enticing that he almost comes right then and there. "I'm yours."
He lets her hand go and picks up full throttle. She cries out in surprise, almost like she forgot for a second that he was inside her. That wouldn't do. "Again," he demands, and wraps both arms around her in a vice grip as he lets go of all remaining restraint.
"Y-yours," she cries out.
"And I'm yours," he whispers, lips dancing on the shell of her ear, hot breath setting goosebumps aflame down her neck. "So you'll come for me, won't you, honeybug?"
"Oh," she cries, "yes. Adrien, Chat, whoever. Ye-e-es."
He smiles at the whoever and moves one hand back to her core to send her off the cliff he's been driving her towards all this time. "Then come," he suggests tenderly, and she does.
It's so obvious when she does. Her back arches at an extreme angle and her legs shake and her hips buck wildly against him, operating on no other rhythm save for instinct. Her fingers pull at his tangled hair so hard it almost hurts, but he doesn't care. The only thing that matters is the clap of skin on skin as he rides her over the edge and the clenching of her interior walls as she crashes down hard into an orgasm that rocks her whole body to pieces.
Only when she lets go of his hair and goes limp does he finally slow down. "I feel so much better," she breathes, panting for breath. "Seriously, I think you actually just cured me. W-wait," she stammers when he starts to pull out. "You're still gonna finish, right?"
He almost does just from that sentence. "But, the akuma…" He thought the plan was to cure her as quickly as humanly possible and then get back to the battle. If this meant blue balls, well then, so be it.
"I know, but… it's our first time," she says softly. "You can finish. Paris will still be there when we're done."
His heart melts all over again. She's right. Paris will always be there, but he'll only get his first time with her once, and it's nearly over. Gingerly he lowers her down to the bedspread on her stomach, following all the way without ever pulling out. She's had a bit of time to recover now, but she's obviously still quite sensitive because when he starts to move within her again her thighs return to trembling.
Whoever said sex from behind was impersonal has obviously never done such a deed with someone they love. He lays flat against her, arms resting on either side of her to draw her near, and thinks that this is the closest and most comfortable that they have ever been together. He can't quite reach her lips but he peppers her neck and jaw with open-mouthed kisses, eventually settling on the nook where her neck meets her shoulder, biting down as he begins to pick up the pace again. Even though he's not doing it nearly hard enough to hurt, she cries out. The bed creaks beneath them as he searches desperately for release.
Pretty soon she's moaning again, pushing her ass up with every stroke to meet him halfway. Is it possible for her to come twice in such quick succession? He kind of wants to know. So between one thrust and the next he doubles his pace, which sends her hands flying up to knot the bedspread in her grasp. He pries her hands open and replaces the bedspread with his fingers, holding them from behind and pressing them down in mimic of the way his whole body does so with hers.
"Don'tㅡpull out," she gasps between strokes. "I want… shit. Ah."
She could have asked for the moon in that moment and he would have built a rocket to take her there. "Tell me," he groans. "Say it."
"I want you!" Every other breath is half a scream now and it's music to his ears.
"To what?" he asks, and he needs her to say it outright because he's one second from doing it without permission. She must be peaking again because she can no longer string together any words. "To what, Marinette?"
"To comeㅡ" she gasps, "ㅡinside me."
This time it's him that groans and loses control of his body.
He grants her wish with a few sporadic thrusts, all of his pooled desire spilling into her at once in the sweetest relief he's ever known. She's whispering something into her pillow but he can't hear anything over the roar in his ears. Everything shudders to a stop.
After something like an eternity he realizes his teeth are on her neck again and he leaves a soft kiss there before nuzzling his whole face into her hair.
"Wow," she mumbles.
"Wish we had time to just cuddle," he , and for some reason this is what jump-starts her back to life.
"Oh my god, the akuma!" she exclaims, and he almost falls off the bed as she throws him off her back to sprint into the hall to retrieve her clothes. He's still laying there in shock when she returns and his shirt slaps him in the face. "Come on, you lazy cat!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."
She blushes and hits him with a glare. "Was that a pun?"
"Not unless you want it to be, princess."
Ignoring his criminally debauched gaze, she sets about searching for her underwear. "Okay, Chat can go home now. I need Adrien back."
He only snickers and quickly redresses. At the window, he lovingly adjusts her hair to help hide the fact that they've just had the hottest sex ever. Taking his cue, she shyly does the same to him, combing her fingers lightly through his tangled bangs.
"You really feel better?" he checks, searching her eyes for any sign of the strained look he saw there before.
"Really. Look, I'm sorry about this."
"Don't be sorry," he interrupts, taking her hand from his hair and holding it to his chest. "You needed help and I gave it. There's nothing to be sorry for. Especially if you were serious about the candles and the music and the sweet, sweet second time…"
Marinette flushes but she doesn't shy away even an inch. "I was serious."
"Then maybe you'd like to go on a date with me tonight?"
"Depends," she jokes, squinting one eye up at him. "A date with Adrien or a date with Chat?"
Adrien gives her the most disarming smile in his arsenal. "It's a surprise."
"It always is," she purrs, and before they go pulls him down for one last kiss.
Like I said... No shame at all...
Okay but a few things. I KNOW that some of y'all reading this are underage and as a 23 year old woman I feel it's my duty to impart some wisdom about sex. Especially seeing some rly factually incorrect nsfw fics in this fandom.
(1) Mari and Adrien are big dummies here for not using protection lol. It makes for good fiction but irl it doesn't matter if you're on the pill or not, use a dang condom ya dingus. Honestly though it's funny to me cause them making this mistake is in character. When Mari is confident she is TOO confident and Adrien trusts her way too much. Haha.
(2) Usually foreplay is a necessity, especially if it's a girls first time. Sometimes it's okay to bypass it though if she's RLY excited...
(3) There is no such thing as popping the cherry or breaking the hymen or etc. That is a literal myth, perpetuated by erotic fiction. The hymen is supposed to stretch and move out of the way, which is what foreplay is for. It'll be a little uncomfortable but only for a second. It is not supposed to hurt. If it's painful or she bleeds you are DOING IT WRONG!
(4) First times are about communication, but the amount of consent going on in nsfw ficsㅡespecially in this fandomㅡis borderline fetishised. Don't get me wrong, consent is necessary and wonderful and necessary. But when you're in a real relationship with someone in real life, and you find yourself in a position where you're about to have sex, they're not going to ask your permission at every single step of the way. There is a level of trust when two people love each other that implies you will TELL them if you want to stop. Sometimes things just progress on their own, and your partner might not stop for a second and be like "oh btw am I allowed to do this thing we are clearly already about to do."
I'm just saying. Consent VERY important, but it looks dramatically different in real life than it does here in fanfic. My boyfriend and I are in a loving committed healthy relationship, and there was never a single moment during our first time when he stopped and asked if I was okay with what was happening. Because we were both participating. Because he knew me well enough to know if I was not okay then I would speak up. Love is about trust. I just don't want you youngins to be blind-sided by this. Real life does not always imitate fiction!
This has been Sex Facts with Speaks. Thank you for reading ilu all xoxo