Wanderlust - A Felinette Fanfic

Then

A/N: this chapter includes some sexual content

10 days before their wedding, Félix was excited. Ecstatic even. He wouldn't stop telling everyone he met that this was his wife. Not yet, but she would be. He flaunted the ring on her finger. Not the ring. The ring on her finger. The symbol that he won her over. He was marrying her. He told waiters, cashiers, people he doesn't even know on walks. 'Wow, I love your shirt, sir!' Félix's reply was always, 'Thank you, my wife got it for me.'
'Thank you for getting this paperwork done, Félix.' 'You should be thanking me, I gave up time with my wife for this.'
He was head over heels for her, and he never wasted a moment not telling her. They were walking down Main St., to the bakery. It was time for their cake tasting, and it was probably Felix's favorite part of the planning. He squeezed her hand. "I can't wait to feed you our cake," he says, bumping hips with her.

Marinette laughed, moving her hand up to the crook of his arm, hugging it tight. "We're only tasting the cake, Fé. You should reserve that momentous gesture for when I'm wearing my wedding dress, in front of everybody," she told him, but she was as eager as he was, if not, more. She's been the one pulling him along to the bakery for most of the walk. She glanced up at him. "But hurry up. You have uselessly long legs but you walk so slow. What good is it even for?" She clicked her tongue teasingly.

He grinned and nuzzled his face into her neck. "For being taller than you. For carrying you everywhere with. For a lot of things, just not with you by me. When you're by my side I wanna go slow. Because I want to savor every moment with you. I want to love you everywhere. I don't want to rush through anything," he whispered against her ear, stopping and turning her to look at him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

They were fifteen, sixteen steps away from the bakery. But they couldn't make it because this hot hunk was too madly in love with her and Marinette- oh god, Marinette doesn't know what she'd do if he wasn't. She was in love with him too. So in love that she noticed all of those things enough, but hearing them verbally was so different. So new each time, no matter how much it's been repeated. "Félix," she said, her voice quivery, bottom lip out in a pout. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she smiled. "You're too damn romantic for your own good." One hand cupped his right cheek, and caressed his cheekbone with his thumb, mapping out the little birthmark he has right under his eye. She pressed a kiss on it. "One of these days, I will melt into a puddle and when the doctor announces my COD, it will be because of your words. I hope you live fine with the guilt, though, because I'll definitely be haunting you every night."

He blushed furiously and pulled her closer, and into an alley beside the store. He grinned, pinning her against it. "If you melt into a puddle, I will tell myself these things into the mirror and join you as a puddle. And we will be two beautiful in love puddles, ever merging to create a beautiful, raw mess. But I want to make one now," he whispered, kissing up her neck. "Just once, before we go inside. Please. Let me love you."

His words brought shivers down her spine, and it might have been the roughness and the cold of the stucco wall behind her, but his touch felt so soft, his skin so warm. He felt so good. She chuckled, tilting her head so that he could have his way with her. "Please," she said. "I want to feel your love. I want to make love to you, too. Turn me into a puddle and make a mess of me. I want you."

He grinned against her neck, hands snaking into her shirt and into the waistband of her sweatpants, feeling around for her underwear. He didn't find any. He gasped softly, laughing as he sucked on her skin for a moment. "Are you wearing any underwear?" he whispered, a hand drifting down her pants and to her sex, lightly rubbing his thumb against her slit.

Marinette gasped, back arching as his touch set alight her old friend lust back into motion. Head reeling, eyes unseeing, she looks at where Félix had his hand in her pants, moaning deliciously in his ears. "Why should I when just being next to you ruins it?" She whispered, licking the shell of his ear.