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Steamy and Sultry One-shots	By : Cat_Eyes Category: +M through R > Miraculous LadyBug Views: 25776 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug. Miraculous Ladybug is the intellectual property of Thomas Astruc and released by Zag studios. No profit was made writing this story.

Chapter List
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Ladybug gritted her teeth, squinting into the driving rain as she tried to keep Chat Noir in her sights. The fight had been long and gruelling, and he had given her no quarter, pushing her to her limits. Gasping for breath, she pressed a hand to her aching chest.
As lightening struck, she saw him, crouched atop the adjacent building as he watched her, his face pulled into a fierce snarl. Before the afterglow dimmed, he leapt, swinging for her head.
Ladybug sprang backward, slipping on the slick tiles, before regaining her balance by throwing out her yoyo and swinging onto another building. Chat Noir’s staff slammed into where she had been standing, loosing a frustrated roar when he realised he had missed.
Taking advantage of his moment of distraction, Ladybug aimed her yoyo at him, throwing it out with grim intent. It struck him in the ribs, knocking him off the far side of the rooftop. She heard him yelp as he fell, but didn’t hang around when the noise abruptly cut off. There was no way a hit like that hurt him; the best she could hope for was distracting him long enough for her to make a getaway.
Muffling a sneeze with her arm, Ladybug dropped into a dark alley, concealing herself amid the abandoned crates and malodourous dumpsters. Keeping a wary eye out above her, she saw Chat Noir bound overhead, as he searched for her.
After a tense wait, she released her transformation. Tikki whirled out of her earring, collapsing into Marinette's hand with a whimper.
‘Let’s go home,’ Marinette murmured, with a sniffle.
Tikki, caught between a yawn and a sneeze, nodded. ‘Can’t wait.’
She slipped Tikki into her handbag, then walked out of the dingy alley as casually as possible.
The rain soaked her through. Marinette’s blouse turned translucent, and her skirt clung to her legs, but as she glanced around to get her bearings, she realised she was still half an hour away from home. She groaned despairingly, but pressed on, her flats squelching unpleasantly with every step. At least it was late, with no one about to see her running around in the rain with her breasts clearly visible.
As she walked, she began to feel hot and lightheaded. Prickles ran over her face, and her vision dimmed and swayed. Shaking her head, she kept going.
‘Can’t fall sick just yet,’ she mumbled.
She had been fighting Chat Noir in the rain for most of the day. He may have been bigger, and stronger than her, but Marinette was faster and more agile. However, they both had good endurance. This left them at a stalemate, but if Marinette were to be caught defenceless, she had no doubt Chat Noir would not hesitate to finish her off.
Pressing a hand to a wall, Marinette coughed. It tore up her throat, sounding like a sick walrus, and had her doubled over before the fit passed.
Grimacing, she straightened up. After taking another step, she staggered, her vision fading out completely. The world tilted one way, while her head went the other, but she never felt the impact with the ground.

It was the smell that roused her. It was of clean linen and body spray, but not the fragrances she used. Memories came flooding back, and Marinette jerked upright, looking around her wildly.
She was in a room that was not hers, in a massive bed with mint green sheets, and a dark grey quilt cover. The walls were a light beige-grey, with hardwood floors, and opposite her was a large window covered in sheer curtains. Through them, she could see the dreary morning, and the rain drumming against the panes.
A sneeze forced its way out of her. She smothered it with the quilt, but when she looked down, she saw that she was naked. With a squeak, she clutched the blankets to her breast, drawing her legs in tight.
There was a light tap on the door to her left. She turned to it with a start, her eyes wide, as it creaked open.
‘Good morning, Princess. I’m glad to see you’re awake,’ said Chat Noir.
The blood drained from her face. She held the sheets in a white-knuckled grip as her head swam, unable to process what was happening. Her throat worked, but she couldn’t make so much as a peep.
‘Don’t worry, Sweetheart,’ he told her, with a flippant wave. ‘I may be many things, but I would never take advantage of an unconscious woman.’
He mistook her wide eyes stare for one of disbelief, frowning.
‘There’s no fun in fooling around with an unresponsive partner, and an unwilling one can be painful. Besides, I’m not that much of an arse.’
Marinette blinked. She had no idea Chat Noir had scruples. However, her shoulders relaxed as she realised he didn’t recognise her. It was an added relief that he hadn’t used her while she slept.
‘Where am I?’ she asked, in a voice so small she could barely believe it was hers.
Chat Noir spread his arms in an expansive gesture. ‘Welcome to Casa de Chat Noir. The unholy lair of Paris’ most wanted.’
Marinette’s moment of incredulity was ruined by a sneeze. Sniffling, she looked up at him. ‘Why am I here, and where are my clothes?’
Disregarding her body language, Chat Noir dropped down beside her, reclining against the pillows, and crossing his ankles atop the quilt.
‘Well, you just collapsed in the street. I caught you before you hit your head, but other than a slight fever, you didn’t seem like you needed a hospital. Besides, if I did take you to a hospital, the staff might have mistaken you for a sympathiser, and declined to give you proper treatment. You’re not a sympathiser, are you?’
Marinette frowned and shook her head.
‘Good,’ he continued. ‘As I didn’t know where you live, or any place safe to drop you off, I had no choice but to bring you back here.’
‘Was it really necessary to remove my clothes?’ she asked, disapprovingly.
Chat Noir turned to her with a leer. ‘I don’t know why you’re being so modest now. When I found you, your shirt was practically transparent, and you clearly had nothing on under it.’
Marinette’s face heated to intolerable levels. She hid behind the bedclothes, her blush searing from the tips of her ears down to her shoulders.
‘You arsehole,’ she squeaked.
‘Relax,’ he drawled. ‘When I brought you back here, I wrapped you in a towel, then I removed your clothes. I didn’t see anything you weren’t already displaying. I don’t know why you’re embarrassed, though. You have the finest pair of breasts I’ve ever seen.’
Her blush burned. ‘Where are my clothes? I want them back now.’
‘No can do, Cupcake. Unfortunately, my apartment building forbids the use of washing machines after a certain hour, so I only got them in the machine about five minutes ago.’
Peering at him from over the top of the sheets, she shot him a disbelieving glare.
Chat Noir shrugged. ‘Believe me or don't, but that’s how it is here. In the meantime,’ he levered him self off the bed to rummage in a chest of drawers near the door, ‘you can wear this.’
He tossed her an oversized Jagged Stone t-shirt. Marinette pulled it on with alacrity, feeling marginally better.
Chat Noir strolled toward the doorway, waving casually. ‘The bathroom is down the hall on the right. Have a shower, brush your teeth. I’ve left a spare toothbrush out for you. The kitchen adjoins the living room. I’ll have breakfast ready when you come out.’
When the door swung to behind him, Marinette rose slowly, looking around for her handbag. She didn’t see it, so she inched the door open, and crept into the bathroom. Taking full advantage of his offer, she showered the gritty feeling off her skin, and washed her hair with his shampoo. A thorough examination seemed to prove that he had not taken advantage of her while she was out, but she made a mental note to see her doctor as soon as she could.
She dried off, brushed her teeth, and used his comb on her hair. She was mildly amused at all the products in his cabinet. She knew he was vain, but she had been half convinced his preening was an act, particularly in their younger days.
Tugging his shirt back over her head, she pulled on the hem, keenly aware of her nakedness underneath. At least it was long, and dark enough, to cover her properly.
She found the kitchen at the end of the hallway to the right, with the front door to her left. The open plan gave her a full view of the lounge room, furnished with dark leather couches, and a large, wall mounted tv.
‘Take a seat, Princess. Breakfast will be ready soon.’
Marinette turned to see Chat Noir pulling a tray of croissants from the oven. She had to blink twice to assure herself she wasn’t imagining the bizarre sight.
Rather than question the incongruous image, she shuffled toward the couch closest to the hallway. To her delight and relief, her handbag sat on the coffee table, unopened.
Lunging forward, she scooped it up, placing it in her lap where Chat Noir couldn’t see. She slowly unzipped it, profound relief washing over her when she saw Tikki grinning up at her, discarded biscuit wrappers and crumbs all around her.
Carefully, she zipped the bag shut before placing it back on the table. Just as she was leaning back in her seat, Chat Noir rounded the couch, offering her a bowl of diced fruit, yoghurt, and a croissant neatly arranged on a tray.
Immediately, Marinette was put off by the smell. She placed the tray on the table, trying not to scrunch her nose at it. Chat Noir frowned.
‘You should be hungry,’ he observed. ‘Wait here.’
He strode into the bathroom, then came back with something white and thin in his hand.
‘Open wide.’
Marinette opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he stuck the thermometer in before she could get the words out.
‘Good girl. Now, we wait for the beep.’
Marinette folded her arms, scowling at him as he perched on the coffee table before her. When the thermometer beeped, he pulled it out to inspect the tiny screen, humming thoughtfully.
‘You’re still running a fever. How do you feel?’
‘Fine,’ she grumbled.
He hummed again. ‘Stand up for me.’
Without thinking, Marinette sprang to her feet, then collapsed back into her seat immediately after, her head spinning.
‘Thought so,’ he muttered. ‘You’re not fit to go anywhere, my princess. Back to bed with you.’
‘I don’t need to go back to bed, I need my clothes. I want to go home.’
‘I’ll take you home when your fever breaks. For now,’ he stood, scooping her up with him, ‘you’re going back to bed.’
She struggled feebly, but she didn’t have the strength or stamina to put up a fight. Chat Noir dropped her back on the bed with a fwump before tucking her in securely. He ducked back out again, returning shortly after with a pitcher of water, and a packet of ibuprofen capsules. He handed her a glass, along with two pills, and instructed her to take them, insisting she drink the whole thing.
‘You better not be trying to roofie me,’ she groused.
‘There’s no sport in that,’ he quipped. ‘You’ll sleep with me because you want to.’
Marinette curled her lip. ‘You sound confident.’
‘I am. Good girls always like the bad boys.’
She snorted derisively, then finished her water. She couldn’t deny that she did feel better after that.
Pressing lightly on her shoulder, Chat Noir encouraged her to lay down. Seeing no way out of her current situation, other than to play along, she acquiesced.
Sleep overcame her sooner then she expected.
She woke up feeling unbearably hot, and shaking uncontrollably. Struggling against the blankets, she had no success in shifting them, then sagged against the mattress in over-heated misery. A low whine escaped her.

After an indeterminate amount of time passed, a bare hand pressed against her forehead.
‘The fever still hasn’t broken. What else can I do?’
There was a light murmuring above her, but Marinette didn’t want to open her eyes. Instead, she tried to alleviate the heat by wriggling out of the t-shirt wrapped around her midsection. She threw it over the side of the bed with a contemptuous huff.

The next time Marinette roused enough to be aware of her surroundings, it was to find a body pressed against her back, with strong, bare arms circling her belly and chest. She moaned in protest, the heat of the other person intolerable.
‘Shh, Princess. Just relax. I’m trying to sweat the fever out.’
‘S’old wives’ tales,’ she grumbled, pushing at the arms wrapped around her.
‘Just let me try, ok?’
She hmphed ungraciously, but stopped struggling. It had been a long time since she had been held like that, and she had missed the feeling, not that she would ever admit that.
Chat Noir pressed his nose into her hair. ‘Good girl.’
His arm wedged under her ribs was uncomfortable. She shifted, looking for a more comfortable position, barely noting the sensation of skin rubbing against skin.
Chat Noir grunted. ‘Please stop moving, Princess.’
‘Marinette,’ she corrected him. ‘What is it with you and weird nicknames?’
‘What can I say? You just look like a princess.’
With a snort, she pressed her face into the pillow, shifting her hips as she wriggled down. Chat Noir grunted again, ending on a pained moan. Marinette ignored him in favour of going back to sleep.

Something hot and hard poked her in the back, pulling her unwillingly from a deep sleep. She groaned in annoyance as she shuffled back up the mattress. She was sweat slick, clammy, and in need of fresh air. Just as she took a much-needed breath, she realised what it was that was poking her. She rotated her pelvis experimentally, just to be sure.
Chat Noir clamped a hand on her hip with a pathetic whine, stilling her movements. ‘Please stop doing that.’
‘What, this?’ she asked, pressing her backside against his pelvis.
He growled. ‘You’re playing a very dangerous game, Princess.’
Marinette bit her lip, suddenly feeling powerful and coquettish. ‘To think, the great Chat Noir, felled by a bit of skin.’
His arms clamping down on her, he pressed his lips to her ear. ‘It’s not the skin, so much as the person wearing it.’
She gasped, almost turning around to look at him, before recalling the situation. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I see you, sometimes, when you’re around town, or on your way to work. I’ve always seen you.’
Marinette took a steadying breath. ‘I don’t understand.’
Chat Noir dragged his nose over her shoulder, and up her neck, inhaling deeply. ‘Ever since I got my Miraculous, I’ve seen you around. Always getting your friends and strangers alike to safety, brave in the face of so many dangers. So beautiful. I’ve always wanted you to look at me.’
Marinette bit her tongue, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t know what to say. If he knew she was Ladybug, he would probably kill her.
She shuddered when he pressed a kiss to her hair, his leg sliding between her own. She didn’t push him away, or tell him to stop, though she didn’t know why. He was her enemy. He would never forgive her if he realised who she is. However, Tikki used to tell Marinette that they were supposed to be partners, never adversaries. She’d mourned the comrade she never had, and to feel him beside her like this, felt right. It was like he belonged inside her skin.
She pressed her rear into his groin, gasping when he reflexively brought up his leg to rub against her folds. With his leg firmly against her, Chat Noir grasped her breast with his right hand, squeezing lightly. His left hand trailed down her belly, to press against her clit, rubbing delicate circles on the sensitive skin.
Marinette released a breathy moan, arching her spine to feel more of him.
Chat Noir growled again, before carefully clamping his teeth over where her neck met her shoulder. He released her a moment later, licking the spot in silent apology.
She could feel his cock pressing into her arse. Tentatively, she reached back, wrapping her hand around his shaft. It was thicker than she expected, and as she began to pump, realised it was far longer than anything she had seen before. She hummed appreciatively.
Chat Noir’s cock throbbed and twitched in her grasp. But just as she was falling into a rhythm, despite the awkward position, he snarled, and rolled her onto her belly.
Marinette squeaked in surprise as he got to his knees behind her. However, rather than pound into her, he buried his face in her exposed pussy. His tongue darted out, licking a broad swathe from her clit to her hole, before running it back down.
With a wanton moan, Marinette pressed her face into the pillow as she clutched at the sheets. She stifled her cries as Chat Noir tongued her, running it around her most sensitive places. She had never had someone eat her arse before, but Marinette decided she liked it, especially the way he did it. She doubted anyone could live up to her expectations after this.
Bridging her spine, Marinette looked underneath herself to see Chat Noir’s cock bobbing with his enthusiastic movements. As she watched, he began to stroke himself, rubbing his thumb over the head, encouraging the beads of moisture collecting at the tip.
‘I want you in me,’ she moaned.
Chat Noir gripped her hair, directing her head upward with a gentle tug.
‘Not yet,’ he panted.
Imagining the wetness around his lips had Marinette moaning. Then, his tongue was circling her anus once more, as he inserted a finger in her pussy.
‘So wet,’ he murmured against her skin.
Marinette let out a debauched aah as he added a second finger, and began pumping. He stroked her masterfully, hitting all her favourite places like he’d known her for years. She bit her lip, trying to keep from crying out too loud.
‘Fuck, you smell good,’ he said, his breath fanning over her arse. ‘You taste good. Scream for me, my princess. I want to hear your pretty scream.’
‘Then fuck me,’ she ordered.
He swiped his tongue over her entrance. ‘Not ready yet.’
With single minded focus, he clamped his lips around her clit, pressing on her backside for easier reach, and sucked hard. Marinette wailed, her feet drumming against the sheets reflexively. He released her to run his tongue up her crack, before licking back down the trail to repeat the process.
Marinette clenched her teeth, struggling to keep her legs open, and her arse up. Every time he sucked on her clit, her knees wanted to snap together. Whenever he ran his tongue around her rim, her hips listed precariously to the side. Only his hand firmly clamped on her rear kept her upright.
‘God, I could drown in you right now, and die happy.’
Marinette frowned. ‘Don’t you dare. You can die after you make me finish.’
‘As my princess commands.’
His presence withdrew, but only to the bedside table. Marinette kept her eyes dutifully closed while he rummaged about in the drawer, concentrating on her own juices tricking down her skin. She clenched her inner muscles, forcing the excess out. It ran, warm and thick, between her folds.
Chat Noir returned, to press something rubbery into her pussy. He spun the object about, coating it liberally, then trailed it up her crack, before tickling her hole. He eased the anal plug in, while his other hand held her arse cheeks apart.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmured.
There was a click, and a faint beep, then the plug began vibrating.
Marinette yelped, rocking forward to collide with the headboard. Chat Noir chuckled, low and husky, caressing her backside and thighs tenderly.
‘Never used a plug before?’
‘Never had any attention there at all,’ she breathed.
He harrumphed in disgust. ‘What fools have you been allowing to have their way with you?’
‘Clearly not the right ones.’
He kissed her left arse cheek. ‘Never mind, my princess.’ He kissed her right arse cheek. ‘I’ll make up for it.’
He ran his fingers over her aching pussy, smearing her moisture over her skin, before inserting three fingers. Marinette’s jaw dropped at the sensation, barely bordering on discomfort, but all the more arousing for dancing that line.
Wet, squelching noises filled the air, accompanied by the faint buzz of the plug.
Marinette hummed and rolled her pelvis, giggling when Chat Noir lightly slapped her rear.
There was a distinctive rustling, then something large and damp was pressing against her opening. Marinette tilted her backside up expectantly.
Chat Noir hummed. ‘You’re ready.’
Moaning in agreement, she pushed against his member, encouraging him to enter her.
He pressed forward slowly, giving her time to adjust to his girth. She winced as the slight burning as he stretched her, but gasped when he continued to slide in without resistance. Once he was fully sheathed, he paused, stroking her hair fondly.
‘Good girl. See? Patience is a virtue.’
‘Don’t patronise me.’
He gave her another playful slap. ‘Don’t sass me.’
Before she could serve another retort, he began to pull back, accompanied by a lewd sucking noise. Then he thrust, easier than before, but still maintaining a leisurely pace.
Marinette admired his self-control. She had only had a couple of sexual partners in her life, but they had none of the restraint Chat Noir did. They had rutted against her like animals, apparently more intent on achieving their own satisfaction, than pleasing her. She certainly would have high standards in lovers after this encounter. Chat Noir may very well have ruined other men for her.
She arched her back with a breathy moan. ‘Never stop fucking me.’
Chat Noir ran his hands up her sides, until he’d draped himself over her back, his hands swooping down to cup her swaying breasts. ‘It would be my pleasure. Are you ready go harder?’
‘Oh, god yes.’
He bit her shoulder, then licked it. ‘Good girl.’
He pulled out, and flipped her onto her back. She stared up at him in surprise, her legs spread at obscene angles, as she took in the cheap mask secured over his face with a single thread of elastic.
‘Chat Noir indeed,’ she uttered.
His answering grin was wicked. ‘As much as I want you, secret identities must still be maintained. I’m sure you understand.’
She nodded, her eyes drifting down his body until she reached his cock, standing at full attention. Her eyes widened.
‘Like what you see?’
She licked her lips, still staring in disbelief. ‘Wow.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes.’
He crawled up her body, leaving feathery kissed in his wake. He nosed the underside of her jaw, nibbling the tender skin, before meeting her in a searing kiss.
Marinette tasted herself, but rather than be repelled, she found herself wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull him against her. She allowed her hands to roam over his body, mapping his muscular back, and squeezing his backside, while he lifted her left leg, hooking it over his hip.
He sucked on her tongue as he positioned himself, ceasing his ravenous kisses as he pushed in. They moaned in unison, Marinette's hips jerking involuntarily.
As before, Chat Noir moved slowly, his chest dragging over her stiff nipples. He toyed with her breasts, kneading and squeezing, as his tongue slid back into her mouth.
Marinette lost herself in the sensations. She lost all sense of time, simply enjoying the feel of Chat Noir inside, and on top, of her. She returned his sloppy, needy kisses, her legs curling up around him for extra friction.
‘You feel so good,’ he breathed in her ear. His teeth closed over the shell, then he stuck his tongue in, apparently unable to get enough of how she tasted.
Marinette squirmed, unsure if she liked it. Leaning forward, she bit his neck in retaliation, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His answering groan was guttural.
‘Do that again.’
She left hickeys everywhere she could reach, enjoying the way he lost his rhythm when she slurped on his skin.
His thrusts came faster. Still painstakingly controlled, but quicker, and angled to rub against her clit.
Marinette’s head dropped back as her mouth fell open. Conversely, her legs closed around Chat Noir’s hips, keeping him in place.
‘Harder,’ she begged, as her nails scraped his back.
With a grunt, he thrust into her with enough force to rock the king-sized bed. Marinette wailed, her breasts bouncing, as her pussy heated up. The friction he generated was delicious, her nub growing increasingly sensitive.
‘More,’ she pleaded. ‘Faster.’
Chat Noir hitched up her leg and slammed into her. She cried out, letting go of him to anchor herself on the sheets. He pounded into her, pushing her into the mattress, the headboard knocking against the wall. Still, Marinette couldn’t get enough.
Chat Noir felt around for the remote, turning the anal plug up to maximum. They both shouted when they felt it, their rhythm stuttering for a breath before he rocked into her once more.
The heat in Marinette's pussy was building. A hot tension low in her belly coiled like a spring, ready to release. Her spine arced, and her toes curled, her knees closing in around Chat Noir.
He kept going when she began to buck, his face buried between her neck and shoulder. She clawed at his skin, leaving long, angry lines. He growled as she scratched him, his carefully maintained pace dwindling down to animalistic urges. He bit her when she began to writhe, a command to keep still, until they were both sated.
Marinette didn’t heed the warning. She threw her head back and screamed, his cock rubbing against her clit too much to bear. She bucked and wailed beneath him, on the edge of her orgasm.
Seeing her so close, hot and wanting, laying bare before him, Chat Noir redoubled his efforts. He pumped hard and fast, angling himself to stroke against her nub with his entire shaft. She shuddered, her legs spasming around him.
She came with a high-pitched keen, then tendons in her neck straining. The hot coil in her belly released with a flood of her own juices, her whole frame jerking and shuddering, until she flopped limply under him.
Chat Noir waited until she rode out her orgasm, still hot and hard inside her. When she blinked slowly up at him, he began to move again.
She uttered feeble protests, but her moans were wanton and debauched. Chat Noir came with a shout, braced on his elbows above her, watching her supple flesh sway as he surged in and out.
He pulled out, removing the condom before tying it off deftly, and tossing it into a waste bin. Sinking down beside Marinette, he nudged her out of the wet spot, before holding her close.
She rested her head on his shoulder, laying a hand over his chest, to run it over his muscles and toy with his nipples. He hummed, kissing the top of her head, as he trailed his fingers lightly down her back.
‘Told you you’d want to fuck me,’ he murmured, smugly.
‘Shut up. It won’t happen again.’
He was quiet for so long, Marinette thought he’d fallen asleep. But then he spoke again.
‘Would it make you happy if I changed sides? Would you willingly come to my bed then?’
Marinette stilled. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Of course, I want you to change sides, but you should do that for you, not just for the promise of more sex.’
‘Even if it’s for more sex with you?’
Confused, she raised herself up on her elbow to look at him. ‘What?’
He was looking at her with such a tender expression, it made her chest ache.
Brushing her hair behind her ear, he murmured, ‘I love you. I want us to be together, but you would never consent to being with a villain. I don’t care if my motivations are selfish, I just want you by my side.’
‘You don’t even know me,’ she whispered.
‘I want to.’
‘What if things don’t work out between us? Will you go back to Papillon?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m tired of him manipulating me, of being jerked around. I want to turn my back on him, but I’m not enough on my own. Will you give me that little extra push?’
Marinette caressed his cheek. ‘You are enough. You have always been enough, but he has kept you so downtrodden, you can’t even see that anymore.’
She bit her lip, unsure how to continue, but then he smiled, wide and genuine. She had never seen that look on his face before. It suited him.
‘That’s why I love you. Please be with me.’
With a shy smile, she nodded. ‘Ok, let’s find a way to make this work.’
His tender smile turned wicked. 'It also looks like we sweated that fever out, after all.'
Marinette's expression fell. 'Never mind. Deal's off. Take me home, Chat Noir.'
But he just laughed as he drew her in for another kiss.
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Steamy and Sultry One-shots