26. Chapter 26

To say Adrien was having a rough time of it lately would be a gross understatement.

In addition to his busy schedule, demanding colleagues, and having his right to orgasm bartered away by his seemingly unconcerned girlfriend, Adrien also had to deal with the knowledge that his kwami had met said unconcerned girlfriend’s civilian self before he did, a fact Plagg had been lording over the boy for the past week.

“I get it, I really do,” Adrien bemoaned, pacing after the hovering cat as the two trekked across his room. “So you don’t want me finishing in the suit, that’s fine! Whatever! It definitely doesn’t kill me inside! But you’ve got to tell me what she’s liiiike…”

His 'mature, adult conversation'” with Plagg had quickly devolved into more of a pleading match, one in which the kwami floated around with a self-satisfied smirk as his charge tried his best to wrangle information from the smug little creature.

“Picture Ladybug, but without the mask,” Plagg answered drily, eliciting another exasperated moan.

“That’s not what I mean,” the teen said, throwing himself atop his bed with a starry expression. “I want to know what she was like. Did she smile like Ladybug? What was she wearing? Was it like, business casual, or more punk?” Adrien sat up with a gasp, wide eyes dashing to his disgusted kwami. “She said she likes pink! Was she wearing pink? Or purple? Oh God, I bet she looks so cute in pastels...” Plagg made a retching noise as the boy pressed a pillow to his blushing face.

“She was wearing clothing. Made of a material. In a color,” the kwami ground out with a sniff. And with that final statement Plagg flitted away, zooming to where his new iPad was set up on the loft as Adrien just simmered in malcontent at his own rotten luck.

But of course, if his pent-up frustration didn’t kill him, his modeling career would certainly finish the job.

Turns out a pretty face and a recognizable name will get you far in the fashion industry, as evidenced by his ever-growing popularity among designers and photographers. And they weren’t the only ones taking interest.

See, Adrien was used to being noticeable in the small scheme of things (at industry parties or amongst a niche group of teenage girls who tracked his modelling progress). But now that his face was popping up all over France and beyond, the young man had to endure the burden of recognition almost everywhere he went. Magazines, print ads, posters — you name it and people were plastering his image across it. There were even rumors of a new billboard slated to be erected towards the end of the month.  

‘Geez, you'd think I was the only model on earth,’ Adrien thought with a suppressed grimace, cordial smile in place as he dodged the screaming crowd gathered outside of his father’s headquarters to slip into the waiting silver sedan. The attention was exhausting, to the point where school (school!) seemed like a break for the overworked and over-exalted teen.

Well that, or the occasional akuma.

It took a special kind of person to view almost getting their ass handed to them, courtesy of possessed monstrosities, on a weekly basis as the highlight of their life. But when he was Chat he didn’t have rabid photographers, pushy reporters, or squealing fangirls lording over him all the—

Well okay, he did still have to put up with those things in his hero persona, but at least when people fawned over him as Chat Noir it was because he actually did something other than stand around looking pretty, so the attention wasn’t unwelcome. Plus most of the fan presence was centered on Ladybug, meaning most of the time he could just sit back admire her alongside them.

As was the case during their first press conference as a confirmed couple.

The duo stood together outside of city hall, facing down the gathered crowd of reporters as news cameras rolled to capture every second of the heroes’ address. It had been two weeks since their infamous kiss, and Ladybug had finally made the decision to go (officially) public about their relationship. The entire time she talked, her words concise and professional as she made her statement, Adrien had to try not to float up into the sky.

Because there was the love of his life, standing before all of Paris and declaring that they were together.

“La Tribune Internationale. How long have you two had feelings for each other?”

‘Since the very moment we first laid eyes—‘

“We've been dating for a month.”

“Libération. Why did you keep it a secret?”

‘Our love is too powerful and complicated for mere mortals to—‘

“It wasn’t a secret, there just wasn't a need to make an announcement about a private matter.”

“Ladyblog. How’s the sex?”

‘I wish—‘

"Next question!" his Lady said quickly, opting to skip over Alya’s rather lewd inquiry.

Adrien saw the nervous energy swirling behind the holes of Ladybug’s mask, prompting him to wrap an encouraging arm around her waist to help steady her. The action was obscured by the solid wood podium in front of them and Ladybug relaxed into the hidden embrace. Adrien let his thumb work in soothing circles over her hipbones as the heroine continued to plow through the non-stop questions thrown her way.  

The conference positively dragged.        

He tried to behave, he really did, but boy was he getting antsy. Being in costume, especially with a fresh transformation, always seemed to key Adrien up, feeding him an unending excess of energy that tended to fester if not properly expended.

So sure, he could rationalize his actions as little more than his powers at work… but he’d be lying if he said the way his hand steadily slid up and down his girlfriend’s side was completely unintentional.

At first Ladybug ignored his wandering fingers, shooting him a subtle eye roll as she remained focused on the interview at hand. But after a while Adrien became bolder, piping out an inconspicuous whistle as he let his hand skate downward to firmly grasp her self-proclaimed “incredible ass.”

Ladybug gave a soft squeak, quickly smoothing her features as she called on another reporter.

“All right, in the blue there,” she said, voice annoyingly steady as she continued to avoid the subtle grin of the boy beside her. ‘You want play it that way, huh?’

Cats did not like to be ignored.

“Paris Inquirer. Will your newfound relationship detract from your ability to protect our city?”

“Actually!” Adrien cut in, snagging the question before his partner could open her mouth to answer, “I think the two of us growing closer will only help us keep a firm grip…”

 His fingers dug into the soft swells of her backside.

“…on our responsibility to the people of Paris.”

“Hilarious,” Ladybug whispered under her breath, still pointedly ignoring the gleeful way he groped at her as he continued to ramble.

“And we can promise that when villains rear their ugly heads, we won’t turn tail and run.”

His hand worked in circles atop her clothed flesh.

“I mean sure, it’s a handful, but trust me when I tell you…”

Ladybug pitched forward just slightly as Adrien applied a light spank, letting a hiss escape her at the stinging contact before her face was once again the picture of composure.

“…it’s our absolute pleasure!”

When Ladybug spoke again to call on her final interviewer, it was with a curious lilt of arousal that only he could identify.

‘Gotcha,’ Adrien thought with a smirk, soothing the skin beneath his hand with a gentle rub as the heroine mercifully concluded the press conference. With a pleasant smile for the final spattering of camera flashes and a wave to all the cheering fans, Ladybug shot off with a dazzling fling of her yo-yo, giving him a subtle incline of her head that Adrien was only too eager to follow.

Turns out he had found an opportunity to expend all that pent-up energy after all.

Marinette wasn’t quite sure what to name her new mission.

“Operation Phone Sex” lacked subtlety. “Operation Bait And Switch” sounded like she was trying to trick him somehow, and “Operation Make Chat Noir Cum” was just downright vulgar.

Besides, it wasn't like her motivations were completely selfless…

Did she feel guilty about her deal with Plagg? Of course! Did that mean she was planning on dirty dialling Chat purely because of guilt?

Not exactly.

Truth was, she was curious. After all the times she’d heard Alya recount her various heated encounters via phone call, Marinette couldn’t help but wonder what the appeal was.

‘Maybe it's the whole hands-free aspect?’ she thought, working listlessly through another shift at the bakery as the Friday afternoon rush wound down. She recalled how difficult it had been to keep her fingers focused the last time she and Chat had gotten steamy over text, and the idea of having her grasp freed up for other activities was an attractive one.

But at the same time, she still held reservations about the whole scenario. ‘What if I stutter?’ she worried, brow furrowing at the thought of her annoying habit somehow throwing off her master plan. ‘What if I don’t have anything to say? What if he gets bored and hangs up?’ Marinette wasn’t exactly what you’d call a flawless conversationalist, especially when she wasn’t Ladybug, and the fear that she would inevitably mess up her first go at phone sex was probably what delayed Operation…

‘Operation Orgasm?’

…

‘No, too alliterative.’

But of course the most daunting factor working against her was the terrifying, exhilarating reality of actually going through with the deed. This wasn’t words on a screen. She wouldn’t have time to plan her responses. This was her and Chat Noir, in real time, in a very real setting where they would most likely be doing some very real things. The fact that there would be no actual, physical contact between them didn’t really matter, as phone sex (just like its more literal counterpart) was still an exceedingly intimate act, one that flooded Marinette with equal parts longing and trepidation.

Longing because, c’mon… she was a teenage girl with a mysterious hot boyfriend she couldn’t even touch most of the time, and trepidation because said boyfriend was Chat Noir. He was her long-time partner, and as much as she enjoyed being with him, as much as she trusted him, Marinette would be lying if she said the thought of them bringing their relationship to this new level of intensity didn’t scare her just a bit.

‘You can’t really go back to being just friends after you make someone cum.’

So when she found herself still at an impasse exactly a week after she had made her deal with Chat, Marinette had begun to despair of ever working up the courage to actually put her plan into action. She wanted it, she really did, but her old friend Mr. Anxiety just wouldn’t allow her to buck up and press call.

That is… until a golden opportunity presented itself one Sunday afternoon.

She was playing video games (surprise, surprise) when Chat’s messages dinged their way across her home screen.

[ please help ]

[ work is boring ]

[ I NEED ATTENTION TO LIVE ]

[ calm it kitty, im here ]

She snickered at his theatrics, trying to balance her attention between her current boss fight and her boyfriend’s boredom as she alternated between screens. They had hardly spoken all week (outside of the press conference, anyway), and Marinette found she almost missed the annoying way he used to spam her phone with unflattering pictures.

[ thank goodness, I was about to drop dead! ]

[ whatchu up to bugaboo? ]

[ not much, just playing video games ]

[ really now? and here I was thinking you only liked to play with me… ]

Marinette cursed as an oh-so-familiar red screen popped up, helpfully alerting her to the fact she had died once again.  She drew in a breath, glaring at the hated blood splatter motif as the “Continue?” button flashed tauntingly across the page. At this point it was either let her game rage get the best of her, or just take it as some divine sign that she had played long enough.

Marinette humbly chose the latter, exiting the game as she settled back with her phone in hand.

[ my favorites are the legend of zoldo and cogs of war ]

[ excuse you, it’s the legend of ZARDAR and GEARS of BATTLE ]

[ fake gamer girls :^( !!! ]

‘This meme-loving fuck…’

Marinette tuned on her camera with a mischievous grin, aiming it towards the bottom of her face as she pressed the edge of her controller against her lips in a humorously played-up pose. After taking a few shots she decided to take the farce a bit farther, pulling down her camisole so the very top of her cotton purple bra (as well as a good deal of cleavage) poked out from under it. She then snapped back into the infamous “fake gamer girl” position, nibbling against the controller as she tilted her phone down to achieve the best and most ridiculous angle.

[ yes im a girl, yes I play video games ]

It was somewhat surprising how easy sending Chat pictures had become — a far leap from her nervewracking first time. It was almost effortless, and Marinette found herself sending him snapshots of almost anything and everything she did.  Whether it was just a simple photo of what she was having for breakfast or a picture of an especially fat bird she spotted in the park, more and more little moments of her life were captured and sent off to the boy, often returned with little glimpses of his own.

She’d seen the sunset from his bedroom window, his booted feet propped up on the cushioned seats of the subway, a vague glance at his place of work (that particular picture looked as if it had been snapped in the wings of a stage, heavy curtains and sound equipment leading her to believe that perhaps Chat was a show tech of some sort).

 Each little shot was treasure, one that only fueled her wonderings about who exactly the boy behind Chat Noir was and what kind of life he led. It was a fun and exciting game the two of them played, toeing the line between hero and civilian with each revealing glance.

Though not quite as fun as….

[ nice control pads… ]

[ you looking for a player 2? ]

‘This guy is seriously trying to flirt with me via video game puns,’ Marinette thought incredulously, eyes rescanning his texts. She wasn’t sure what disturbed her more, the speed at which he had come up with the quips… or the fact they were actually turning her on.

The gears on her head began turn, and dangerously so.

[ you offering to play? ]

[ ill co-op with you any day, babe ;) ]

[ well we do make a good combo ]

[ you know I love it when you talk nerdy to me… ]

Damn, she didn’t have the imagination to keep this up!

[ uuuhhhhh…shit ]

[ something about a joystick? ]

[ help me out here ]

[ might I suggest something along the lines “hey boy…why don’t you let me blow on your cartridge?” ]

[ that way I could respond with “only if you let me put the finishing moves on you” ;) ]

Yep, it was obvious at this point that Chat wasn’t merely looking for some friendly banter.

‘Do it now,’ that scheming part of her brain whispered, low and exciting. She made it behave… but perhaps the voice had a point. Marinette shook her head, trying to clear her mounting anticipation as she made her way up to her room.

[ hey boy… ]

[ aren’t you supposed to be at work? ]

[ c’mon ladybug, play nice! ]

[ and im actually driving home now ]

‘He’s going home. That’s where he can be alone.’

[ not while youre texting I hope ]

[ *riding home ]

It was too perfect. Puzzle pieces snapped into place, stars aligned, and a multitude of other overused idioms all played out before her. Marinette tried to find a flaw in the timing, tried to pick the situation apart in order to find one reason why she couldn’t do it. Why she couldn’t call up Chat Noir.

It was when she drew up a blank that that familiar roiling motion began to work in the pit of her stomach, half nerves and half something much darker as she laid out the base work of her plan.

[ good, way to be safe ]

[ and need I remind you…I don’t often play nicely ;) ]

[ ah yes, how I could I forget… ]

[ my little bug likes to play it dirty… ]

The invitation couldn’t be clearer, not even if it had been one of the hypothetical messages Alya had drilled into her while teaching her friend to spot said invitations, and Marinette’s hands were flying into action before her brain could even think about putting on the brakes.

“Operation Whatever” was a go.

[ I do… ]

[ and im still looking for a player two if you’re interested ;) ]

The girl stilled in the middle of her bedroom, a bit stunned that she (Marinette the human disaster) had managed to pull off such a suave opening line on such short notice. No planning, no worrying or rewriting. Perhaps she was spending too much time around a certain smooth-talking alley cat…

[ …please tell me youre proposing play time round two ]

[ im proposing playtime round two ]

Now that was clear consent if she'd ever seen it, and his words made her anticipation double. The act of dotting concealer across her body almost put Marinette in a trance, like she was some fabled Amazon warrior preparing her war paint for battle. The imagery helped temper her nerves, if only for a moment.

After a few seconds the lights were natural, marks were obscured, and all that was left was the actual act of…

[ im not home yet… ]

[ then I suggest you keep your hands on your phone until you are ]

[ meanwhile however, I think I’ll let mine wander ;) ]

Marinette sowed her seeds, allowing the heat curling in the space below her belly to seep into her text with a flirty insinuation she knew Chat wouldn’t miss.

[ fuck ]

[ just ]

[ you can’t wait like ten minutes? ]

His response almost inspired panic in the keyed-up girl, almost sent her running back to her safe ledge of humor. But after rereading the texts, stilling near the rungs that led up to her bed (her stage), Marinette saw the desperate longing beneath them. He wanted this, but he was in no place to fully enjoy it.

‘Even better…’

[ afraid not ]

[ im ready to play now ]

[ THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THE CAR WITH ME ]

Marinette could just picture him squirming in a crowded back seat, and the image would have made her laugh if not for the nervous arousal that still punctuated her every breath. ‘You can do this,’ she thought, climbing up to her loft with flimsy determination, ‘You're Ladybug, capable of toppling villains and saving the day.’

Though in all honesty, she’d probably be more comfortable facing a thousand akuma at once than attempting her current feat. Marinette took a moment to focus and refocus on the task at hand before reaching out to reply.

[ really? well im all alone… ]

[ …in my room, on my bed… ]

[ …and thinking about all the fun little games we could be playing if only you were here with me right now ]

All right, so maybe she had stolen that line from Alya’s screenshots, so sue her. But the words seemed to have the intended effect, and Marinette couldn’t find it in her to feel guilty about her slight cheat as Chat took the bait. She laid back against the pillows with a bite to her lip.

[ well I know im going to regret this but… ]

[ tell me what you had in mind, my lady ]

‘Think, Mari! What’s the best way to ease into this?’

She got it.

[ you and me ]

[ I like the sound of this… ]

[ super smash brothers ]

[ stock battle, no items, final destination ]

[ ahh, classic choice. i approve! ]

[ ah-ah, not so fast kitty, I haven’t told you the final rule ]

[ which is? ]

‘ This better work…’

[ every time we lose a life, we lose an article of clothing ;) ]

His reply told her it had worked.

[ well now I doubly approve, especially considering the fact I saw very few layers in that pic you sent ;3 ]

[ I wonder tho…what would be the first piece to go?? ]

Marinette spotted her second invitation of the day, shifting around in anticipation as a slow grin broke across her face. One hand reached for her waistband…

[ cover your phone screen ]

[ why? ]

Marinette snapped two pictures, surprisingly calm considering the heated nature of her subject.

Her sleep shorts bunched over her propped up knees. They filled the frame as she sat up slightly from her lying position to capture the shot of them sliding down her thighs. Likewise, her shirt wrinkled in a similar manner as she teased it up her abdomen, the picturing just encompassing its curve along her ribs, as well as a peek at her toned stomach.

She was getting scary good at using her angles.

[ because the first article of clothing I’d have to take off would be my teeny… tiny… shorts ]

Off went the first shot, rising up into the window at about the same rate her pulse was climbing in her throat.

[ then my even tinier camisole… ]

She didn’t even wait for him the process the first picture before sending the other along as well. (Marinette would rationalize it as an effort for emotional impact, but really the timing was more an attempt to outrun her own steadily rising nerves.) She wasn’t sure what was more exhilarating, the sight of her stripping form displayed in the conversation window…or the three dancing little dots that told her Chat saw them too.

[ please ladybug… ]

[ im almost home ]

Marinette had almost forgotten how fun this could really be, and the girl allowed herself a grin of pure indulgence at his obviously affected reaction. She settled bare-skinned against her comforter, heavy lidded eyes drinking in his plea and deft hands reaching out to respond.

[ … are you saying you don’t want to hear what I’d take off next? ;) ]

[ fucking ]

[ fine, alright, just tell me ]

[ not until you ask nicely :) ]

[ …please ladybug, tell me what you would take off next ]

[ well I thought I’d let you pick ]

[ so what is it chat? what comes off next? ]

[ …do I get to take it off you? ]

A thrill shot through Marinette at his words and the image of Chat’s (hopefully ungloved) hands working their way around her undergarments flashed unbidden across her thoughts, sending her squirming at the fantasy.

[ if that’s what you want, yes ]

[ well in that case, I choose your panties… ]

[ plus my teeth ;3 ]

His forwardness drew a soft gasp from her, waves of heat radiating down her body as shaking fingers reached down to divest herself at his command.

Now her fantasy was supercharged, wandering hands morphing into a grinning mouth as Marinette could almost feel the sensation of Chat’s teeth gently grazing the edge of her panties. Or the crotch of her panties. Or perhaps even…

This time she let her underwear (a plain bikini of white cotton) dangle off the end of a big toe, one leg still propped up as the other draped lazily across her bent knee. That image joined the others with a muted buzz.

[ done and done ;) ]

[ …seems to me like you’d be pretty bad at super smash if you were down to just a bra while I still had all my clothes on ]

‘Cheeky bastard…’

[ oh the bra is gone too ]

[ and please! if we were REALLY playing, I’d have you bare long  before I lost my first life >;D ]

[ I wasn’t aware I was supposed to be naked at this point ;) ]

[ well maybe you aren’t… but I sure am… ]

[ really? I hadn’t noticed ]

‘Extremely cheeky bastard…’

[ are you home yet? ]

[ im getting antsy… ]

[ pulling into the driveway ]

[ I want you so fucking bad right now ]

Another jolt, another pulse of heat that let Marinette know this was right. That doing this with Chat was right. And fuck if right didn’t feel so goddamn good as it whispered over her expanses of bared skin.

The way her chest heaved up against cold air, the way her nipples pebbled not entirely as a result of the temperature, was right.

The coiling in her abdomen, making any thought beyond him (him, and what he could do for her) nothing but a distant fog was right.

The heat across her shoulders, the lips between her teeth, the dampness against her inner thigh was right.

[ well you better hurry up then ]

[ im getting cold without anything to cover me D: ]

[ I promise I’ll warm you right up my lady ]

[ just let me get to my room and then I’ll give you anything you want from me]

Marinette’s free hand scraped against her sheets, her legs pressed together in a bid to increase the ever growing pressure found between them. It was practically effortless the way she tapped back to her home screen, pulling up the phone icon as lust hazed eyes stared up at the innocuous little “C.N” inscribed there.

She wanted him, so much so that it would have been almost alarming if not for the fact she knew how much he wanted this too.

[ please chat… ]

He went a full minute without responding, a minute in which she positively writhed in anticipation. The anticipation of hearing his voice, of whispering her fantasies where only Chat could hear, of finally allowing her twitching fingers to go to work in exactly the places they so desperately wanted to tease.

‘Commandment number nine…’

[ im alone princess ]

‘ …know when to switch.’

[ you have my full attention ;) ]

At the sight of his text flashing across the top of her phone screen, Marinette took a deep breath.

And pressed call.