lo noir

anonymous asked:

word drabbles? if youre still doing them! lets doooooo space and ladynoir! plz thx <3

“‘Space’ is just a word made up by someone who’s afraid to get to close,” Chat said wisely, ducking over Ladybug with an expression too gentle to be called a leer.

“Yeah,” she agreed, remembering to push him away just a second too late, “or someone who needs it.”

He chuckled, and Ladybug found that there was a weird sort of resentment that came with knowing her suit was keeping her from feeling his breath brush her fingers.

“And if you quote song lyrics at me again, I’m the one who’s gonna need it,” she threatened without heat, trying not to smile. “Permanently.”

“Meowch,” said Chat. “Can’t Handel it, bugaboo? I guess that means all these great puns are on the Chopin block.”

Ladybug allowed herself three seconds of horrified staring, and then: “I’m gonna Offenbach you.”

“Then I guess I’d better Hyden— yeep!”

Bless you for providing me an opportunity to shoehorn the Wonder Woman movie into a Ladynoir fic.

(find the prompt list here)


“Well, that went way better than expected. I can’t believe you pulled off that trick.”

Chat looked away from the flashing wall of cameras and crinkled his eyes at Ladybug. “You’re surprised? Wow. You injure me with your lack of faith. I told you I had it in the bag, Bug.”

Marinette’s attention was divided evenly between the wall of cheering fans and journalists, and her partner. It was as she was signing a bicep that had been thrust in her direction that she hit Chat with disarming smile. “And you were right, of course,” she laughed.

“I thought we’d be out for hours, when I saw her wrecking the radio tower on the news,” Chat said once they had banished themselves to the rooftops. “I can’t believe it only took twenty minutes and we didn’t even need the charm or the ‘clysm. I wasted one of my good alibis on getting out of the house! I’d been saving that one, too.”

The agonized look on his face made a giggle bubble up in Marinette’s throat, and she couldn’t contain it. She was feeling too good. That battle had been swift and exhilerating and decisive, and she felt powerful, and more than anything else, she felt connected to her partner. They’d been paired up against the world together for about five months now, but tonight something had shifted. They’d moved less like a team and more like one. He’d responded to her whims as if they’d been choreographed a thousand years ago and he’d spent his life studying in preparation just to meet her. And Marinette, god help her, had loved every second of it.

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