A Masked Getaway

Ladybug

Ladybug had always wondered how a single moment can be so embarrassing you would be surprised your head hasn't exploded, or worse? Like someone had posted a picture of that moment on social media and now everyone knew what a colossal idiot you really were?

"I didn't mean to...you know..."

Chat Noir definitely did know because, let's face it, there was no way he couldn't know. If it wasn't for the unfortunate...groping...the fact she was about a thousand degrees warmer than the sun would one hundred percent give her away.

"Don't worry, it was just an accident. I know you didn't mean to..."

They were lying side by side in the huge bed which seemed surprisingly small with his large frame beside her. It was meant to be simple. They'd had a lovely evening at the restaurant, eating, laughing, talking, and genuinely having fun together. Then he walked her home like the gentleman he was, and then everything seemed to go from bad to worse.

It started simple. They walked into their villa, she asked if he wanted a drink (water—no ice) and did herself the same. They joked about what hard drinkers they were, sharing such a pathetic laugh together, before moving up to the bedroom. Where everything started to go terribly wrong...

"Shall I get changed here? Or would you prefer it if I went into the bathroom?"

Ladybug looked up from where she was sorting through her pyjamas and studied her partner's face. Was he blushing?

"It depends what you're getting changed into?" she said with a fake laugh. Was that supposed to be a joke? That was such a pathetic attempt. Seriously, what was she thinking?

"Um...just my shorts...if that's okay. I don't tend to sleep in anything else. I get pretty hot, being a cat and all."

Hot, he most certainly was.

"Oh, perhaps you should go into the bathroom then. I don't want you to feel like I'm perving on you and your hot body - I mean, cold body! No, warm—just your body!"

She just could not control herself. He'd looked delicious tonight, and she'd just wanted to eat him instead of her main course. He was wearing the hell out of a jeans and shirt combo. The jeans groped him in a way she wished she could, and his shirt suffocated his biceps, making them look like pure manly meat!

Over the years, it seemed he'd found protein and the gym because, man, those muscles were defined. But the most wonderful part of his attire was the two buttons he'd left open at the top of his shirt, teasing her, and showing off a triangle of golden skin. He was certainly sending her off the straight and narrow of platonic partners into the deep ocean of lust. She was growing more and more needy by the second...and now she had to share a bed with him, and possibly kiss the tanned triangle still staring at her.

Down, Marinette!

"I'll be right back." Her partner turned and strode out of the room, leaving her alone with her less than holy thoughts. She was going to hell!

As the door closed behind him, she collapsed on the bed with a rather hearty sigh. "Okay," she muttered to herself. "This is all going to be o-kay!"

Suddenly realising her clean pyjamas were in her hand (she wasn't going to wear last night's monstrosity), she looked down to give them a once over, which quickly turned into a second, third, and fourth. Her pyjamas were nothing more than a skimpy, silky vest and lace-trimmed shorts. Not only was she going to look like she was trying exceptionally hard to entice him, she was also going to slide across the bed.

"Spots off!" Cupping her hands in front of her, she caught Tikki as the kwami fell into the palms of her hands.

"How's it going?" Tikki asked. Marinette was unsure whether she was being sarcastic or genuinely curious.