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

Luka + Marinette sin-ish (not my story)

Ok I just want to say something before someone does this because I feel like someone would, I don't care if you skip this chapter you don't have to announce it in the comments, I already said I would post a few lukanette fics just skip them and move on please and thank you❤️

Now for the ones that are going to read this, this one-shot is called Tepid by EmeraldWaters.

NONE OF THESE STORYS ARE FROM WATTPAD THEY ARE FROM A WEBSITE (NOT APP) CALLED ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN!

Enjoy <3

For someone not opposed to pampering herself, Marinette loathes baths.

Well, loathe is a strong word. She doesn't hate them, per se, but the excessive heat always boils unpleasantly under her skin and overall, she can't see the appeal of lying in her own dirty water. It's odd to have such deep thoughts about something so simple as a bath, but Marinette has had years to get used to the way her mind works.

But, in saying that, it's four o'clock and every muscle in her body is aching from her latest patrol. There has been a headache looming from behind her left eyebrow ever since Pigeon Man was akumatized again this morning for what must be the fiftieth time, and she hasn't seen Luka in over a week. (Winter always did bring more akumatizations).

And so, in what she calls utter desperation, Marinette finds herself drawing a bath.

Turning the handle enough to let a small stream of cold water out, Marinette first uses her right hand to wash the small brown and black hairs ringing the ceramic down the drain; hair that shows that the last time the bath was used was for the kwamis to play (they may be deities but some of them shed like crazy). Ew. She cleans her hand under the tap afterwards, vigorous enough for the silver bangles on her wrist to clink together.

Sighing, Marinette retrieves the plug from the cabinet under the sink (oh that's where her spare tape measure went!) and turns the hot tap on as well.

Another problem with baths is the ridiculous amount of time it takes for them to fill up. Marinette isn't a particularly impatient person, but even by the time she retrieves all the necessary products from the shower - lining them up neatly on the edge - and grabs her pyjamas from the bedroom, the bath isn't even a third full.

Tapping her foot in time to the music playing from the speaker, Marinette juts out her lower lip in thought before turning and crouching in front of the bathroom cabinet again. Ridiculously triumphant with it, Marinette pulls the 'bath elixir' from out behind a few other bottles and dumps a good quarter of it into the water. If she's going to be miserable she may as well smell like 'marshmallow peach and roses.' (It's a pity they don't have any candles but after the kwamis almost set fire to their bed for the third time, getting rid of them had been the safer option).

Eventually, the bath is full: inviting wisps of steam curling up from the mountains of pastel-tinged bubbles.

After stopping the stream of water and burning herself on the hot tap, Marinette turns to flick the bathroom light on. Even with the afternoon sun peeking through the frosted glass, the light makes it easier for her tired eyes to focus. She also closes the bathroom door (it makes her feel less exposed, when with the kwamis being in their box) and lets her clothes drop piece by piece, pooling around her feet messily.

In the mirror her pale skin glows under the warm light, gathering at the arch of her collarbones, the dip of her waist and curling under her breasts.

With a slight frown, Marinette ties her hair in a half-assed knot at the top of her head.

She full-body recoils at the burn when she submerges her foot in the water; carefulness abandoned in the face of frustration. Marinette winces, but stills, letting her skin get used to the heat. It becomes an odd sort of staccato process, easing herself into the water, stop and start, some parts of her body more used to the heat than others. (Getting her hips under takes a good forty seconds alone).