Chat Blanc X Marinette Novels & Stories

Marcel was sitting in a chair by the window, a glass of something dark in his hand, whiskey, probably or maybe bourbon, the bottle on the table beside him was half empty. He didn't look up when I came in. "Marcel, " I said, my voice coming out desperate and shaky. "Marcel, I need to talk to you. " "Go away, Christina. " His voice was flat, empty, the same cold tone he'd had outside with the pack. "I'm not in the mood. " "Please, " I said, moving closer. "Please, you have to listen to me. It's about Maxwell, he just…

She looked at Xavier to see if he was ready to order. “Yes, Caramel macchiato for me please and some biscuits” “I’ll have the same” Celine says. They engaged in small talk while waiting for their orders to be served. “guess who called me this morning?” Celine asked Xavier. Xavier shrugged, he wasn’t good at guessing. “I swear if I were to guess, it will be someone totally unrelated. Just save me the stress and tell me….” He says, his blue eyes shone in anticipation, Celine had caught his attention and he was all caught in fascination of her.

she remarked, her gaze fixed on his every move. Xavier spoke coldly and detachedly, his voice devoid of warmth. "Nothing surprises me anymore," he answered, his words tinged with tiredness and indifference. Marina approached him with irresistible attraction, her stare entering his soul, unfazed by Xavier's apparent lack of enthusiasm. Her seductive voice was dripping with desire as she mocked him. "I am a bundle of surprises. Why don't you give it a shot?" she asked, her fingers slowly connecting with his, sparking a fire within her.

His face is priceless. " I need a bath," I say as I close the bathroom door. Leban had already prepared a bath for me, so I got in the jacuzzi. The door slowly opens, and my mate walks in. He looks pitiful and stands close to me. His hard cock is almost in my face. " Take that thing away from my face," " That's not fair. It will hurt," " Well, hurting is a part of life. By the way, Khai found his mate. Her name is Marie, and she is a lovely girl, but I don't completely trust her for some reason,"

It was a staggering amount of data to process before I’d even had caffiene hit. Beneath the barrage of dating alerts, the "Margarita Senoritas" group chat was already a war zone of activity. I tapped into it to find a selfie of Cleo and Marissa. They were jogging along the avenue, looking suspiciously glowy and athletic. Cleo’s black braids were perfectly contained, those pink tips flashing in the morning light, and Mari’s icy blue eyes were bright despite the hour.

I could take some juicy pictures for my collection too. “Alright, I’ll try,” I said. I walked toward Marina. She was still alone. Maybe I had the wrong impression thinking she was that guy’s date. “Hey,” I said and tapped her on the shoulder. Marina turned around, and her face turned sour when she saw me. Jeez, am I really that undesirable to her? “Oh. Hey Logan,” she said dryly. “Expecting someone else?” I chuckled. “None of your business,” she snapped.

The warmth seeped into his hands as he took a slow sip, savoring the brief silence that came with it. He glanced at Martin, who was still flipping through files like his life depended on it. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Martin,” Maurice said, breaking the quiet hum of paperwork. “How’s married life? You two getting along?” Martin didn’t even look up. “Xoxo,” he muttered under his breath, his tone dry, almost dismissive.

the blonde bloke is not giving up. I had to put this little piece of heaven back on my plate because, after all, I should be the bloody master of self-control. Not to say that I usually have manners. “I am quite certain that you are quite familiar with my identity, but that's a fair point, well made. I am Marcellus, pleased to meet you both. Thank you for having me here and for this amazing meal. I assume that my lovely hostess made this.” I said. “Well, you assume wrong. My…mate…Nethanaiah of Charterwallis…” the blonde bloke said while pointing at his ash blonde mate and emphasising the word “mate”…

Two rings. ...until a woman's voice answers me. “Mina Western?” “Who's talking?” I answer immediately, determined not to give my identity until you tell me yours. “Good to hear you again.” “I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are. Tell me or I'll hang up.” “No, don't.” “Then who are you, who gave you my number.” “I'm Marcella, Black Hamilton's wife. I hope I don't interrupt if you're not fucking my husband right now.”

Lucas’ phone rang, and he looked at it before saying to Sonnet, “I have something to do—” “Go ahead and take care of it. We’ll talk later,” Sonnet replied sensibly. He nodded and left. Sonnet tilted her head back and drank her kiwi juice while scanning the venue leisurely. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in her line of sight. She frowned and thought for a moment before realizing that it was Mariette’s husband—Claude Wolfe.