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“Sometimes I wonder what I taste like.”
It was a silly statement. Something random Marinette mumbled on a lazy Friday night whilst staring out the balcony of her home. Something meant to be laughed at, treated as rhetorical. And yet, Chat Noir's mind already ran its gears and conjured a vivid imagery of his lips pressed against hers, clawed fingers gently gliding through her freely swaying hair to pull her closer and deepen the contact.
He was shocked. While he might be trying to suppress his feelings for Ladybug, it didn't mean he had the right to go after the next person he knew. Especially not when the said person was Marinette. She was a reliable and amazing friend. She was special. And most importantly, she had a massive crush on this mysterious “Buttercup”. She deserved his utmost support and camaraderie in pursuit of her romance.
Still...
Something about her vanilla scent, and her comfortable body language during her impromptu encounters with his superhero side was so attractive. And so intimate that he felt naturally drawn to her.
Before he knew it, his mind tugged him back towards his indecent thoughts. He imagined pushing her against the railing, his tongue slowly slipping past the cavern of her mouth, tasting her. Relishing her and–
“I can help with that.” He suggested in a smoky undertone, leaning his back against the railing as he flashed (what he believed to be) his most charming smirk at her.
Marinette finally turned her head away from whatever far more entertaining she could see down the street to face him. Her serene expression switched to one of confusion before ultimately morphing into pure disgust.
“Eww! I'm not letting you bite my hand!” She declared resolutely.
Chat blinked once. Twice. Then, he broke out into a fit of unconstrained laughter.
“No– not like that.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Then,” Marinette's brows scrunched in wonder. “like what?”
He chuckled even more at her query, tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. Wiping them off, he looked at her. She was so genuinely lost that he felt kinda bad for even having any naughty ideas.
“Forget it, Princess.”