Geek Fashionista

MariChat Week 2 Day 7: Scent

~*~

When he started taking cat naps on top of the bakery, he never really thought about why. He took cat naps all over Paris. When he’d had a stressful day, when he wanted to relax outside of the house, he found a cozy spot and laid back for a while. But the bakery kept calling him. He had pleasant dreams up on its roof.

Eventually he figured out that it was the scent. Dough, cinnamon, sugar, chocolate—any number of sweet treats that made him feel like he was asleep inside of a gingerbread house.

Mingled in with that were smaller things. Marinette’s perfume. Fabric. The very smell of the materials that the bakery had been built out of. All of it wrapped itself around him, a warm blanket to guide him safely through his slumbers.

The bakery smelled like a home, he thought. Warm and lively instead of cold, empty, silent halls.

Fingers appeared on the border of the roof, followed by Marinette’s head. The scent of her shampoo tickled Chat Noir’s nose. “Oh good, you’re here. Can you come down for a minute? I need to measure a jacket I’m making for a friend and, well, Papa’s not exactly the standard model.”

Chat Noir sat up and yawned. “Sure,” he said.

“Why do you sleep up here anyway? If you want a nap, you can come inside, you know.”

He blinked at Marinette. “Can I?”

She looked away. Was that a blush on her cheeks? “Hurry up. I need to have the jacket done by tomorrow.” She disappeared over the edge.

Marichat Week 2 Day 5: Behind the Mask.

~*~

Marinette entered her bedroom after a long akuma battle, shut the hatch door—

“Psst!”

—and nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up at the loft. “Oh chaton, again?”

A hand bearing a silver ring appeared over the edge of her bed and waved at her. Marinette sighed.

“Give me a minute.”

This time, at least, she was prepared. She went back down into the kitchen and retrieved some Camembert, explaining to her parents that she’d gotten a sudden vicious craving. She returned upstairs.

Plagg zipped down the moment he smelled the cheese. “Have I ever told you how much I like you?” he said to Marinette before taking the cheese and swallowing it in one gulp. Marinette stroked his head.

“Not even going to savor it, huh?” She produced a second piece in her other hand. Plagg grabbed it, nuzzled her cheek, and flew off to enjoy it in private. Marinette climbed up to the loft and sat at the foot of her bed. “Heard the akuma was a tough one,” she said.

“Nothing me and Ladybug couldn’t handle,” Chat Noir replied, his voice full of confidence. Marinette rolled her eyes. From her perspective, he’d gotten his butt handed to him. “Well,” he added, as if reading her thoughts, “nothing Ladybug couldn’t handle. I think I just got in the way.”

Blonde hair appeared in her peripheral vision; he’d lain at the foot of her bed. Marinette leaned over and thumped her head against his. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. There’s no way Ladybug could save Paris on her own.”

He made a noise she couldn’t interpret. She flicked the back of his head. “I’m serious. You wipe that unhappy look off your face right now. Just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s there.”

This time, Chat Noir laughed. “You’re the best, Marinette.”

“Pfft, I know.”

He whacked her with her own pillow. She shoved her hand into his hair and messed it up as thoroughly as she could.

MariChat Week 2 Day 2: Fairy Tales. If you’ve never watched Thumbelina, here’s a relevant link.

~*~

Chat Noir had been about to doze off in Marinette’s lap when she asked him a question: “What’s your favorite fairy tale?”

His eyes opened. Marinette ran her hand through his hair and they looked at each other with mutual curiosity. “My favorite fairy tale? Thumbelina.”

Marinette’s brow shot up. “Thumbelina?”

“Yup. I think I watched the movie a hundred times when I was a kid. I knew all the songs.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

He sat up and took Marinette’s hand in his. “Let me be your wings,” he sang. “Let me be your only love. Let me take you far beyond the stars…”

Marinette covered her mouth with her free hand and laughed. “Oh my gosh, you weren’t kidding.”

But Chat Noir wasn’t about to let her off the hook. “Let me be your wings. Let me lift you high above. Everything we’re dreaming of will soon be ours,” he crooned.

Marinette tried to hide her blush. “Come on, kitty…”

“Anything that you desire, anything at all. Every day I’ll take you higher, and I’ll never let you fall.” He tucked his head under her chin and nuzzled her neck.

Marinette wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down on the bed. “Fine,” she said, “you can be my fairy prince, but only if you stop singing.”

Chat Noir settled against her. “What about you?” he asked.

“Hansel and Gretel,” Marinette replied without skipping a beat. Chat tensed.

“Uh… maybe you shouldn’t be babysitting small children.”

MariChat Week is over! ;O; It’s been a blast writing for my first love in this ridiculous square. Thank y’all for reading. *salutes* Also, have I mentioned I’m dying for a Christmas episode? MariChat Week Day 7: Purring.

~

He came to her in the early morning hours, after the mass and the dinner had wrapped up and the Parisians who weren’t going to party until dawn had gone to bed. Though the night was pitch black and overcast, the streets below were illuminated. He found Marinette staring dreamily out her window at the colorful tree in front of Notre Dame.

“Shame on you, Marinette. How is Père Noël expected to bring you anything if you don’t go to sleep?”

Marinette looked up at Chat, who had perched on her bed and grinned down at her from the loft. “He brought me you, didn’t he?”

Chat clasped both hands to his chest as if he’d been shot by an arrow. “Was that romance? From my princess?” He fell backwards dramatically. “All my heroic feats must have put me at the top of the nice list this year–oh, I like what you’ve done with the place.”

He referred to the strings of lights she’d hung up around her bed. The loft had a soft, warm glow that matched that of the decorated streets. Marinette climbed the ladder and dove onto the bed beside Chat. “How was your night?” she asked.

Chat turned his head towards her. “Not as fun as Christmas ought to be, but I suppose I can’t get everything I want.”

Marinette frowned and crawled up to her pillow. She knew Chat had a troubled home life, but for it to extend to the holidays? He really was unlucky, wasn’t he? “Here, minou,” she said, patting her lap.

Chat flipped onto his hands and knees, grinned, wiggled his backside and pounced. Marinette fought a yelp on her way down, but all thoughts of protest were lost as his arms slipped around her back and he buried his face in her neck with a contented sigh. She giggled, threading her hands into his hair. “This is nice,” he murmured.

“Mmhmm.” Her nails lightly scraped his scalp and she was surprised to feel a vibration against her chest. She thought it was her imagination, but when she repeated the action, she heard the rumble clearly in the silence of the room. “Are you purring, chaton?”

“Yes,” he said, placing a lazy kiss on her neck.

Marinette blushed. “Well, that’s new.” Her fingers trailed down his back. “I like it.”

Chat lifted his head and gazed deep into her eyes, the green of his softened even further by the loft’s intimate lighting. Marinette laid a hand on his cheek and he turned his nose into her palm, his eyes drifting shut. “Marinette…”

Her heart lurched in her chest. “Hmm?”

“I love you.”

She thanked her lucky stars that she was lying down, otherwise she was sure her legs would have given out. It wasn’t like Chat had ever concealed this fact from her, but hearing it spoken out loud… she found herself too tongue-tied by a rush of affection to respond. So she pulled him down, nuzzled his nose, and sank into her pillow as their lips met in a slow and tender kiss.

His purr rumbled on long after they’d separated, stopping only when he fell asleep in her arms. It was then, in the happy haze between passionate kisses and Christmas slumber, that Marinette found the courage to respond.

“I love you, too.”

I thought to myself, “This prompt could either lean towards sin or pain,” and gosh darn it if I didn’t choose both. MariChat Week Day 5: Trust Me.

~

He knew why she was crying, but she couldn’t know that he knew.

It was her secret to tell, in her own time, and he’d wait no matter how much it hurt him to see her so torn.

In the shadows of her balcony, away from prying eyes, he held her as she sobbed. The sweet night fragrance of the flowers she raised with loving care clashed with the bitter taste of her tears. His clawed hands roamed her back in a manner meant to soothe, but she only cried harder, broken by his gentle touch.

He could end it all with a simple my lady.

But that would be selfish of him.

Instead, he took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles, her wrists. He leaned forward to caress her warm, damp cheek with his lips. She squeaked his name and he kissed the corner of her mouth, then pulled away to show her his sorrowful smile. “It’s alright,” he whispered, though he knew that in her mind it wasn’t alright, and no amount of his telling her so would convince her otherwise. “You can trust me.”

Her expression crumpled, words lost in the tumult of her pain. He understood. I do trust you, her whimper said. More than anyone, her tears continued. From the beginning, her shaking shoulders added. With my life, her heart declared. And I don’t know why this has to be so hard.

Her lips tasted of frustration when they found his in the dark. His clawed hands wound into her loose hair and he pulled her close, bewitched by this girl, so strong and yet so fragile. He marveled at how she could love him enough to be this afraid.

She cried because she wanted to tell him, but thought he’d be angry, thought he would assume she’d toyed with his heart on a whim. If I didn’t want you playing with my heart, I wouldn’t have given it to you, his open-mouthed kiss said. She cried because she still had feelings for Adrien but she couldn’t stop coming back to him. If only you knew how much of a non-issue that is, princess, he thought as he sucked on her collarbone.

Most of all, she cried because deep down, she knew that he knew, was in denial about knowing that he knew. She cried because something kept her from believing that he could know and still kiss her like he needed her, desperately, ardently, with the mask or without the mask, now and forever.

So they burned all their secrets into their skin, and the darkness bore witness to all the things they couldn’t say.

*thunder rumbles ominously* MariChat Week Day 3: Sin.

~

She couldn’t sleep.

The minutes ticked away. The stars turned above her head. A moonbeam cut into the shape of the skylight shone upon her beating heart, and Marinette wondered if it could see, like she could see, the corruption within.

For once upon a time, she had dedicated herself to a boy who shone like the sun. Her imagination spun fairy tales and fantasies of lovelorn princes in need of her gentle touch. Kindness immeasurable, manners impeccable, a smile that lit every dark corner of her being.

And now.

A shaking exhale.

Not a prince, but a shadow. A face she couldn’t see. A body cloaked in darkness, slinking towards her. Lithe. Seductive. And a voice that commanded her frantic heart:

Notice me.

Such a twisted, gut-wrenching pleasure that filled her as she walked down the street, hyperaware, knowing that he could be anywhere. Watching her. Just out of reach. All clad in leather. Lips curling, a flash of teeth, wrapping around a simple prayer:

Notice me.

How she burned at the memory of his hands in her hair and his lips on her neck and his legs pinning hers and her name on his tongue and his scent on her sheets and his taste on her lips and his heart beating in the palm of her hand.

How she ached and how she yearned.

Consumed by the shame of having lost herself in him so easily.

She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t eat, she couldn’t concentrate knowing somewhere in Paris her heart was carried daily by a boy with no face, with no name, with no history, with no home.

*walks in a day late to MariChat week with Starbucks* MariChat Week Day 1: Secret Dating.

~

The messenger arrived two hours into the school day.

Like the rest of her classmates, Marinette’s attention was drawn to the enormous flower arrangement that filled the doorway, bursting into the room before the delivery man did. Ms. Mendeleiev lowered her tablet to place her hands on her hips. “Excuse me,” she said, “this is a physics lecture, not a garden.”

Snickers arose. Marinette looked at Alya, who shrugged in response. Your guess is as good as mine.

“Ah, those must be for me!” Chloe cried. She stood from her desk and floated to the delivery man’s side. “I mean, I have so many admirers, it’s only logical.”

“Sit down, Ms. Bourgeois.”

“Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” the delivery man grunted.

Chloe froze. 

Marinette froze. 

A hush fell over the entire room. 

Then the blush crawled up her neck to inhabit her cheeks. She felt the prickle of eyes from every direction. Sabrina had a hand over her mouth, horrified and indignant for Chloe. Alya’s smile overtook her face before she shot up from her chair and waved at the delivery man. “Over here!” She pointed at Marinette with both hands. “She’s right here!”

Marinette couldn’t breathe. He didn’t, she thought. There’s no way. She watched the flower arrangement bounce its way towards her, heard her classmates giggling and whispering more fervently than before as Ms. Mendeleiev urged them all to quiet down. The delivery man set the vase on her desk with a thunk and nodded at her. “Have a good one.”

Despite their teacher’s threats, the class was in uproar. Questions came from everyone, and all at once. Even Alya couldn’t help herself and demanded to know who, what, when, where, and why.

A tiny card was nestled between two roses. Marinette flipped it open.

You’re the cat’s meow.

Oh, she was going to kill him.

In all the commotion, no one noticed Adrien Agreste smothering a very Chat-like grin behind his hand.