My favorite Smut/Fluff parts from different Miraculous Ladybug fanfictions!

Adrien+Marinette sin (not my story)

hey yall. imma keep this intro short and simple. This fic is called Netflix and Chill (or Heat Things Up) by chatonne-rousse (thefullbeaumonty). Enjoy its a short one.

She isn't sure how she ended up gripping the back of the sofa, her forehead pressed to the cushion, when ten minutes ago they were laughing at the sitcom that still drones on behind them.

It was a good episode, and she wonders what they're missing, but when his hand leaves her hip to massage her clit, she suddenly doesn't care.

It doesn't matter, anyway. That's what Netflix is for, after all, though with the warm heat of their bodies colliding and sweat building at her temples, she wouldn't call this anything close to chilling.

She spreads her knees a little farther apart, gasping at the sensation of him going just that much deeper, with just that much more of their sensitive skin making contact with each thrust. She closes her eyes as her head spins, pleasure arrowing through her at the slick slide of his cock, over and over and oh.

Clutching the sofa frame for leverage, she raises her hips and pushes back against him to meet him at a new angle. Giving as good as she gets is a heady rush, and it makes her muscles squeeze around him in surprised pleasure.

His strangled whine has her grinning triumphantly, until his hand twists in her sweaty hair and he gives a gentle tug. Her mouth falls open, her stomach swoops, and she moans so indecently that she's embarrassed for just a moment.

Then he pulls harder.

The arch of her back is nearly involuntary, but they know each other's bodies so well by now that it's more of a learned reaction, a familiar and delicious cause and effect.

Her fingers go slack and she lets him take over, playing her body like a symphony building to crescendo. The hand wrapped around her hair like a rope pulls just hard enough to ride the razor's edge of pain and pleasure, just how he knows she likes it. Head thrown back, she now pants and groans with her gaze to the ceiling. Two fingers continue circling her clit, while his forearm draws her hips back to his, their bodies meeting with an obscene slap of flesh.

The fire builds low in her abdomen, spiraling outward and setting every nerve ablaze until she shudders with the force of it. She tries to grab the sofa, the cushions, anything for support, but he tugs her hair harder and bends her back further, never letting up.

"Kitty," she moans, and his fingers rub just a little bit faster. "I'm so - hnnng - so..." He picks up the tempo and suddenly she can't finish the sentence. But she doesn't need to. He knows.

His grip on her hair slackens for a moment and she pitches forward in surprise before he tightens his hold once more. Her nipples graze the cushion with another particularly hard thrust, sending a second jolt of pleasure down her spine.

She reaches down and wraps her hand around his wrist to ground herself, ligaments and tendons moving beneath her fingers while he works her ever closer.

She's so close to the edge, so ready to fall over it with him. Between the delicious sting of her scalp, the magic of his fingers, and the near-manic pounding of his hips to hers, she's aroused beyond belief. She can feel her own slick painting her inner thighs, amplifying the sound of their bodies coming together. All it would take to get her there would be...

He leans forward over her back until his breath is warm at her ear.

"I used to fantasize about pulling your pigtails, Bug," he rasps, his voice dripping with arousal. "Just like this, or in the shower, or while you--" She clenches around him and he groans loudly. "You're...you're better than any dream I ever had. Because--" He nips her earlobe, then soothes the spot with his tongue. The sting is a sharp contrast to the tenderness in his words, "Because you're real. And you're mine. And every part of me is yours."

Her kitty and his romantic heart. Even as he tugs on her hair and takes her from behind, even when she's babbling nonsense and the tone of his voice is pure sex, he still speaks love to her. That's just who he is.

He slows his pace to short, strong strokes but keeps working her clit. Her knees are numb, her legs are shaking, and her mouth is open in a silent gasp.

"Come on, Lovebug," he breathes. "Come for me."

And she's gone.

With a soft whine that turns into a repeated chant of his name as each wave crests, she comes around him, gripping his wrist with one hand and the back of the sofa with the other. Slowly, languidly, he fucks her through her climax, keeping pressure on her clit to prolong her pleasure as long as possible.

Finally, he lets go of her hair and she slumps forward, pressing her cheek to the cushion so she can look at him over her shoulder.

"Your turn, Kitty," she says with a satisfied smirk. "Come get your cream."

He snorts with laughter but grins slyly. Still pumping slowly through her aftershocks, he reaches lower and drags his fingers through the arousal that coats her legs, her clit, their union. Keeping eye contact, he brings two fingers to his lips and sucks them clean. The sight makes her legs tremble.

"I think I already did, Bug."

She almost laughs, but before she can, both of his hands are on her hips, and he's fucking her so hard and fast and deep that she can feel another orgasm rising on the heels of the first.

He's panting behind her, his breath mixed sporadically with groans of her name. When he starts to lose his rhythm, she closes her eyes and squeezes around him, and suddenly he's bent over her back, one hand on the sofa beside hers and the other wrapped around her chest. He holds her close and sighs against her skin as he spends himself inside her.

He presses soft kisses across her shoulders as he comes down from his high, and she finally lets her tired muscles relax. She crosses her arms over the back of the sofa and rests her head on her forearms. His hands trace a gentle path down her sides and over her hips and back up again.

Finally, he slips from her and pads down the hall to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a bath towel that he lays on the sofa beside her. He flops down on it and pulls her into his lap, kissing her nose before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips. His fingers massage her scalp lightly, soothing the earlier sting.

"My thoughtful husband," she says softly.

He smiles. "I try."

Arms around his neck, she holds him close and lets her eyelids drift shut. She's barely cognizant of the sound of the television until he pauses it and the room falls silent around them

"Should we go back to the last thing we saw before..." he wiggles his eyebrows.

She giggles. "Tomorrow."

He turns off the tv and switches off the lamp on the end table.

With a yawn, she melts further into his embrace. "Take me to bed, Kitty?"

He kisses the top of her head and smiles, wrapping her in his arms and standing up to carry her to their bedroom.

"As my lady wishes."

Going to publish one more.