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“What’s with all the hullabaloo?” Adrien asked as he approached the gaggle of girls crowded around the park bench.
Alix punched his shoulder, “Who even uses the word hullabaloo?”
He playfully rubbed his shoulder, “Well, what else would you call all these people here? So, what’s up? New video game release? New manga chapter?”
The crowd parted and Marinette was seated in the middle of them all, holding a portfolio folder to her chest, and blushing softly. Alya was sitting next to her, and looked up at Adrien when she saw him, “Oh! You should show him, Mari! Adrien works in the business; he’ll tell you exactly what I said—you’re really talented!”
“Oh! Um, but I don’t—”
“Show me what?” Adrien asked.
“Marinette is entering another fashion competition—”
“I haven’t decided yet—”
“Come on, girl,” Alya rolled her eyes, “you’ve got to enter!”
“Yes!” Rose squealed, positively quivering with delight, “Marinette, you’ve got to enter! It’s so good!”
“How about you show Adrien and let him decide. He’s got the most experience with these kinds of things.”
“Uh,” Adrien interjected, “I don’t know; I’m not a fashion critique. I mean, I’ve done enough modeling to know generally what’s in and what’s not, but—” Alya snatched the folder from Marinette, who weakly protested. Alya was shoving the folder at Adrien, who paused, and looked at the smaller pigtailed girl, and asked, “Is it ok that I look, Marinette?” After all, consent to view another’s intellectual property was important.
She covered her eyes with her hands but nodded. Adrien opened the folder and his jaw dropped.
It was a full body shot of Marinette Dupain-Cheng in the most exquisite lingerie he’d ever seen. The effect was immediate—Adrien had to sit down and adjust his pants. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the image. She was lying on a white fur blanket, her hands up in her loosely curled hair, her cheeks pink and her lips rich and full. She had a silky black tank top and red lace boy shorts peeking out underneath. Her legs went on for days and her feet—crossed sensually at the knee—were strapped with vicious red heels. The look she gave the camera was… killing him.
Adrien clenched his fists to prevent himself from physically tracing the curves of her barely-hidden breasts and her luscious hips.
“Oh, that’s not the best one,” Alya harrumphed, and whipped the photo away from Adrien. He was going to protest, but his eyes were blessed by yet another photo of Marinette. This time, she was kneeling with her knees apart, her back to the camera, and peeking over her shoulder. Her burgundy lips were pursed and slightly parted and looked oh-so-kissable. It took longer for him to peel his eyes from the expression on her face, but when he finally did, he was rewarded by a different piece of lingerie: a royal blue nightgown that barely covered her butt cheeks, and a pair of coquettish ice-colored panties that begged Adrien to lift up the edge of the nightgown to confirm their ruffled design. His mouth flooded with saliva as he imagined licking the swell of her gorgeous, mountainous—
“Wrong picture again!” Alya groaned and Adrien swallowed a hiss as the stunning image of Marinette was torn away from him once more. “There!”
Oh. Oh my. Oh my gracious.
Marinette was sprawled on the bed again, on her side this time, with the most lustful come hither look on her face that Adrien wanted to dive into the photograph and kiss her senseless. Ok, maybe more than kiss. Maybe a lot more than kiss.
But it wasn’t just the pose that was driving him batty. She wore a black leather teddy with corset-style laces on the sides, that hugged the top of her breasts in a sweetheart neckline. From there, it rose to her neck in barely-there acid green lace but was enclosed with a black leather collar and—Adrien gulped—a golden bell at the base of her throat. Marinette’s inky hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back, and Adrien nearly died when he saw the leather cat ears nestled on the crown of her head.
Adrien leaned forward and gripped his knee to catch his breath. Stunning was not the right word. Goddess seemed more appropriate. A Goddess who he intended to worship until she destroyed him outright (the most likely scenario) or, if he was a very very lucky cat, parted those luscious thighs for him and gave him a peek into her glistening, gorgeous core, hidden in the valley of love between her legs. Of course, that would be the most amazing, mind-boggling thing of all. Her knees, falling apart; her head lolling back; her breath accelerating as he kissed slowly from her knee up that thigh that went on for miles, and then to her curl-adorned pussy—opening for him. He’d take his time—a Goddess like Marinette deserved every ounce of love he could muster. He’d cherish her before, during, and after. He’d ravish her slowly, listening to every moan, every whispered plea, every nuance. He’d peel the teddy off her carefully, relishing every “yes please” she offered and then discovering her body one tantalizing inch at a time. And after he’d fulfilled every desire and wish she’d ever dreamed of, and when she was a sweaty, panting, fulfilled mess in his arms, he would hold her and caress her until she drifted to sleep, if only to watch her breathe all night long—her breasts rising and falling in time with his heartbeat. For, Adrien knew, his heart now beat only for her, for this Goddess of life and beauty that had graced him with her friendship and this—
“So, whatdya think?”
“Wha--?”
There was an outburst of giggling and Adrien blinked rapidly to regain his bearings. He was seated on a park bench next to… next to Marinette! He looked at her. He peeked back at the Goddess in the teddy. Then back to the genuine article. She was wearing a white hoodie, her hair was back in her signature twin tails, she had her knees up underneath her, she was blushing, but she was looking at him. Her eyes were wide and curious, her nose just visible over the hem of the hoodie, and Adrien had to admit—he liked her even better this way. He liked her looking at him. He liked her sitting beside him. He liked feeling her body heat so close, and he liked knowing she was right there, so close he could reach out and touch her, listening to him, talking to him…
“I think you’re going to win,” he said sincerely. “I mean, I’ve seen models my whole life without nearly as much talent. Did you have a modeling coach or something?”
She pulled the hoodie away from her mouth, revealing those plump, inviting lips that were driving him mad, “M-modeling?” she asked, one perfect eyebrow lifting up into her shiny, silky fringe.
“Yes, wasn’t this a modeling competition?”
The girls burst out in laughter again. Marinette shook her head, “No, it’s a design competition. I made all the pieces.”
“Oh,” he said, gulping against the lump in his throat. “Wow.”
“Methinks he likes it,” Alya teased. Adrien shot her a glare.
“Yes, um, def-definitely,” he stuttered as he looked back down at the leather-and-lace teddy-clad Marinette daring him to subordinate himself for her in the photograph in his lap. “The… the designs are fantastic. You made them yourself?”
Marinette laughed this time and nodded.
She made them herself. Nobody else had that teddy. Nobody else had the red and black number either. Or the ice-blue ruffled panties. They were hers, and hers alone. Just like him. He was hers and hers alone.
“Well,” Adrien said, his voice cracking, “I… uh, think you should g-go for it.”
She smiled and fluttered her lashes. Gosh, she was beautiful. How did she look so demure when there was clearly so much fire raging just below the surface? Is this how she lured him in? Shy and sweet on the outside and a Mistress of Desire on the inside?
Marinette’s inside.
Oh, wow, he wanted to die. He wanted her to destroy him.
“Ok, well, thanks for the input, Adrien!” Alya was saying from a million lightyears away. “You going to submit the photos to the competition, now, Mari?”
“Sure,” she responded, not taking her eyes away from Adrien’s. He didn’t mind. He was already lost in them.
“Marinette, would you go out with me? Dinner? Drinks? Anything?” he begged.
Her eyes popped again, she blushed a little harder, and all the girls around them erupted into cheers and laughter. “Shush!” Marinette scolded them, then gave a shy nod to Adrien.
“Yeah!” Adrien cheered himself, unaware of how she was putting the photos away or telling him to call her or getting to her feet. He followed her to the edge of the park. He would follow her anywhere.
“Um, don’t you have a photoshoot to finish?”
He didn’t know. He didn’t care. “Maybe?”
She laughed, “Call me when you’re done, and we’ll arrange something.”
Adrien nodded and Marinette waved and skipped off, and as he stood there, Adrien knew he’d left Earth. He didn’t care if he ever came back down again.