Chapter Text
“Oh, Chat!” Ladybug cried. “I’ve ignored you for too long—I need your big cock inside me!”
Adrien closed the document open on his computer and laughed at himself. This fanfic he’d written about himself as a teenager was not good. But hey, he’d had to deal with his feelings towards his spandex-clad partner somehow.
He was reading his old works for inspiration as he sat in his apartment, now an adult, now fully aware that his Lady was also his friend Marinette. Hawkmoth was defeated, and he was moving on with his life. And how he managed to move on was by writing porn.
It wasn’t all of Marinette. That would be weird. His works were usually not about individual people, more just scenarios that he found hot. And it turned out, he had a knack for this kind of stuff.
It was nice to have fans for his work instead of his face. He published his stories online, anonymously, and people liked them.
Of course, he could never let his friends know about his side job.
He stretched out his arms and opened up a new document, ready to write.
Bridgette had the kind of body that Adam had only seen in paintings of goddesses. He was in love with her the moment their eyes met across the bar, and he knew if he could spend his days worshipping at the altar between her legs, he would be a happy man.
**
“So, I found an interesting author online yesterday,” Alya said as the four friends met for lunch the next day. It had become a weekly tradition—no matter how crazy life got, Adrien would have Nino, Alya, and Marinette eat lunch with him every Friday.
“Oh my god, if this is another Ladynoir fic,” Marinette groaned. “They never get us right!”
“Well, yes, but this one seems to know you very well,” Alya said. “They pivoted to original fiction, though. I like the story about the DJ getting sucked off by his super hot girlfriend beneath the stand.”
Adrien coughed suddenly as he recognized one of his own plots.
“Anyways, the author’s name is AthanaseBlack, and gosh, isn’t that just a unique name?” Alya asked, her attention now fully on Adrien.
He took a sip of water before saying in a small voice, “Uh…please don’t read any more.”
“Oh my god, did you write fanfic about us?” Marinette asked.
“Spicy fanfic,” Alya corrected.
“Hey, I was a horny teenager and I had no idea it was you!” he protested. “I only write about fictional people now.”
“Dude, I’m pretty sure I told you that DJ story,” Nino said.
“Well, fictional characters inspired by you,” Adrien muttered. “I swear, I’m not really thinking about anyone weird when I write this stuff.”
“Don’t worry, Sunshine, I believe you,” Alya said. “Why didn’t you ever mention it before, though?”
He shrugged. “How do you bring up oh, by the way, I get paid for writing porn?”
“You get paid for this?” Marinette asked.
“Not enough to live on without the whole inheritance thing, but yeah,” he replied. “I guess I’m good at it?”
“Oh, hell yeah you are,” Alya said, making Adrien blush red.
“Okay, maybe we should move on and not embarrass Adrien?” Marinette suggested, her own cheeks pink. “But, uh—should we, um, not read it?”
“Please don’t,” he replied. God, he was blushing so hard his ears burned. He hadn’t been this embarrassed since high school.
“Fine,” Alya said. “Matter dropped, and no reading without your permission. We’re cool?”
“We’re cool,” Adrien said, nodding.
**
Over the next few weeks, his friends teased him about his “porn habit”, but truthfully, he was glad they accepted it so easily. After all, if, say, Marinette had admitted to selling anything like that, he’d be seeing her in a whole new light.
Not a bad light, of course. Nothing would ever make him see her negatively. He loved her, and he’d known he loved her since even before the reveal.
It was a shame she didn’t feel the same way.
But Adrien had learned to deal with it. He no longer saw her as the pornstar hero he’d dreamed about when he was younger. She was his friend, nothing more, and he was really okay with that. She made his heart melt with her smile sometimes, but mostly, he just wanted her to be happy.
And then Marinette texted him as he was trying to write.
Marinette: hey how are you doing today??
Adrien: not great. Writer’s block.
Marinette: any way I can help?
Adrien: not unless you can choreograph a sex scene.
Marinette: no. but I can bring you some macarons? We made passionfruit today
Adrien: yes please
**
Adrien put aside his writing, because, well, it really wouldn’t be good if he greeted Marinette with his dick half-mast. And that turned out to be a good decision when she walked into his apartment in a low-cut T-shirt and thin yoga pants.
He could see the outline of her butt so clearly when she walked past him to put the macarons in the kitchen and jesus she looked good.
“So,” Marinette said, leaning casually against the counter, “tell me about your writing problems.”
Yep, okay, he could talk about porn with his gorgeous friend.
“Basically, I’ve got to the point where the guy kisses the girl, and they fuck, but the transition from talking to fucking is just not working,” Adrien replied, taking a macaron from the box she’d brought. “The person who commissioned this one wanted them making out against a wall but fucking on a bed.”
Marinette pursed her lips slightly as she thought. “Well…have you tried acting it out? Sometimes when I’m writing a presentation, I set up those akuma dolls and practice in front of them.”
“I guess it’s worth a try,” Adrien said. “I don’t have dolls, though.”
Marinette smirked. “What about your action figures?”
“Storage,” he replied. “I packed them up before moving here and just…haven’t unpacked them.”
“I could let you borrow the akumas,” she offered.
“Or,” Adrien said, walking around the counter to stand directly in front of her, “you could help me? I need to know if this stuff is hot from a woman’s view, so…”
“Um,” she replied, her cheeks pink.
“I’m not asking you to have sex with me!” he said quickly. “Just…walk through the motions with me. We’ll keep our clothes on, nothing weird, I promise.”
“Okay,” she said, laughing in the way she did when she was nervous or he was so close to her. “Yeah, I suppose I can do that. Can you set the scene for me?”
Adrien gently grabbed her hand and led her out of the kitchen, to the hallway. He took both her hands in his before pushing them up over her head, against the wall. “So, she’s been teasing this guy all night, and he decided to take control and kiss her.”
“And is she into it?” Marinette asked, eyes wide.
“Yeah,” he replied. “She’s been wanting it just as bad.”
“Then I think she’d maybe arch her back a bit, press against him,” she murmured, demonstrating the movement. Her breasts brushed just barely against his chest. “If her hands are occupied, she might use her leg to react?”
Her leg lifted, her calf rubbing slightly against his. It was just a simple, small rub, but his dick was starting to respond anyways.
Why had he worn sweatpants?
She’s just a friend, he told himself as he leaned close. “And they’d kiss, and…I think he’d hold her with one hand so the other’s free for this.” He lowered one hand, slowly tracing his fingertips down her arm before brushing her cheek, her neck.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he could swear her eyes grew wider.
“I think I’m getting it now,” he said. “He’d lean close like this and murmur, bedroom?”
His lips were right next to her ear, and as he pulled back, he caught her eyelids fluttering slightly, her body beginning to slacken and lean into him. She blinked and seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in. “Yeah. I think she’d go with him.”
Adrien pulled back abruptly. “I think she’d lead, actually, she’s kind of been controlling this the whole time. Besides, I want them to strip as they walk.”
“Skipping that part, right?” Marinette asked, smirking at him. “But, okay, bedroom.” She stepped away from the wall and headed towards Adrien’s room, and he shamelessly kept his eyes on her ass as she moved.
Just because he wasn’t going to touch her didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the beautiful sight she presented for him.
He followed her into the bedroom and watched her sit at the edge of his bed before lying back, pushing herself more onto his mattress. “Is this good?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he replied. He had what he needed, but…a little more research couldn’t hurt, could it? “He wouldn’t get on the bed right away, though.”
“He wouldn’t?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.
“No,” he replied, kneeling down at the foot of the bed, beside her legs. “He’s going to have to tease her back. So he’d push her legs apart and just start slowly touching…”
He moved his hands to her knees, lightly pushing and admiring how her legs just fell open for him. He lightly slid his fingers along her thighs, stopping before her hips. He stroked her gently, slowly, keeping his hands to the tops and outside of her thighs only.
Marinette was breathing heavier, and he could see every little twitch and shiver her body made. He gently rubbed just above her bent knee, fingers just barely drifting to her inner thigh, and she gasped sharply.
“Th-that’s good,” she said. “But wouldn’t the girl get im-impatient?”
“Probably,” Adrien replied, shifting so he was standing, bent over her. “But he’d hold her down, like this—” his hands on her hips, fingers in safe places, but he pinned her down against his mattress “—and he’d taste her. Feast on her. Make her into a wet, panting mess while he gets to enjoy the most delicious flavor.”
“And then what?” Marinette asked. Her voice was shaking, but she sounded eager.
“He’d wait for her to beg,” Adrien said, a smirk crossing his face as he imagined Marinette really writhing and whimpering for him. “And then he’d move on top of her, like this.”
He knelt on the bed above her, and oh. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He tried not to stare at her chest, but it was hard not to when he could see the buds of her nipples poking through the fabric.
Pun very much intended.
He kept his hips a respectable distance away from hers, but he was so hard that if she just glanced down she’d definitely see him tenting his sweatpants. He supposed it would really be only fair with the way he was ogling her breasts.
“And then what?” she asked.
When had their breathing gotten so heavy, the air around them so thick with unasked questions, unsaid need?
“He’d kiss her,” Adrien replied, daring to lower his head till his lips were right against her neck, brushing her skin as he spoke. “Neck, jaw, earlobe, everywhere but her lips. And he’d be teasing her with his cock, sliding along her so she could feel just how bad he wants her.”
“How bad is that?” Marinette asked. Her body arched off the bed, and his cock brushed against her thigh. Oh, he’d be thinking about that later.
“So bad,” he replied, moving his mouth against her skin until he was speaking into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “So bad it hurts. He’s wanted to be inside her since she walked into his place.”
“What’s holding him back?”
He lifted his head to stare into her eyes, pupils blown so wide there was almost no blue left in that sea of black. “Once he starts, he won’t want to stop. He won’t be able to stop.”
“I thought that’s what she wants,” Marinette murmured.
“It is,” Adrien replied. “But he’s going to draw this out as long as possible. Make her just as needy.”
“And then?”
“And then,” he murmured, lips grazing the shell of her ear, “he’d fuck her. Hard. Make sure she feels every—single—inch of his cock.”
Marinette whimpered, and he drew back to see her eyes closed, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her hands fisting at the sheets below.
Adrien lowered his head again, all rational thought gone. His lips brushed against hers, and she suddenly gasped—and he moved away, standing up from the bed.
“Well, I think I’ve got it now,” he said, turning around so he could tuck his cock beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. “Thanks."
“Y-yeah,” Marinette replied. “Anytime.”
“I should, um, get to writing while it’s still on my mind,” he said, giving her an apologetic smile.
“Oh, I should probably go home,” she said. “See if my parents need help at the bakery or anything. So…yeah. I’ll see you later!”
She practically ran out the door, and as soon as she was gone, Adrien grabbed a trusty bottle of lotion that he kept beside the bed.
He definitely was not going to write.