Miraculous Ladybug One-Shots

quick! make her fall in love before she realizes you're an idiot

hi. ohmygod. if you thought I was dead, you were 100% right. wow.

rediscovered this ship. and. it revived my soul.

language warning!

this is just a marichat shitpost. I have no idea what's happening in season 4, but it looks like a mess. so.

anyway.

* * *

"You're doing that thing again."

Chat started, his posture rigid with surprise. He blinked and found Marinette leaning on the balcony railing beside him. He hadn't seen her come up, and he was embarrassed he'd been caught without making her aware of his presence.

"Sorry," he said, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "I didn't mean to just be here without saying anything. I was going to knock on your trapdoor, really..."

Marinette tilted her head at him, gaze curious. "Don't apologize. You're always welcome, whether I'm here with you or not." She slid closer to him along the railing so that their arms were pressed together. "Is everything okay?"

Pleased by her boldness, he released a long sigh and smiled. "It is now."

Color touched Marinette's cheeks, first faint, then brilliantly scarlet. As if an electrical current coursed through his body to hers, she jumped away from him and hurriedly spun on her heel.

Startled, Chat watched in amazement as she stumbled and fell into one of the lounge chairs. She blinked and then relaxed as if she'd meant to do that, her arms behind her head in a lousy attempt at casual aloofness.

Had she just been flustered? By something he'd said? The idea made him inexplicably giddy.

"Doing alright there, champ?" he asked, absolutely beaming as he leaned on the railing and watched her.

"Great," she blurted, avoiding his gaze. "Just peachy." The red tint to her cheeks still hadn't faded.

Chat strode over to where she sat, grinning. He collapsed into the chair beside her and stared at her with great interest.

Finally, as if forced to, Marinette looked at him.

He twiddled his fingers at her. "Hello, Princess."

Marinette huffed, but a smile breached her lips. "Sorry. Sometimes I don't think I function all the way."

Chat laughed at that. "I dunno, I think you function pretty well." He winked, inclining his head toward her.

Sputtering, Marinette shoved his face away. Her hand felt warm and alive on his lips, and he tried not to think too hard about how nice it felt to kiss her flushed skin. How she would gasp as he trailed his lips down her neck, or how he would bracket her body against the wall, or how he'd tell her he loved her between the mashing of their mouths, or how she'd pull sounds—

Okay, Chat thought, noting the rise of temperature in the air around him. That's enough of that. Exploring fantasies right in front of the object of said fantasies was questionable at best.

He looked over at Marinette to find her gaze already on him. At some point, she'd withdrawn her hand—the same hand she was now wringing her shirt with.

"Marinette?" he said, glowing under her stare. She jumped at being caught, and Chat smirked. "If you're going to stare at me, I can make it a more interesting show." He flexed his arms, which he knew looked quite complementary in the tight spans of his suit.

The way Marinette flushed suggested that she maybe thought so, too. "Please," she scoffed, eyebrow twitching as she avoided his gaze. "I don't remember buying tickets to the circus."

Chat barked a laugh at that, rowdy and unrestrained. She had this way of pulling raw things from him, you see. "What do you think the baton is for?"

She giggled as he twirled his weapon of choice dramatically. "I imagine your baton skills are as sharp as your evasion skills."

Ah, so she had noticed.

Her keen blue eyes tracked his movement from the chair back to the railing. "It's nothing," he said finally, turning to her with a tight smile. "I just..." I can't picture my life without you, and it terrifies me. He almost snorted. He couldn't very well say that, could he?

Marinette's inky locks of hair bunched around her shoulders as she stretched her arms over her head and swung her legs over the side of the chair. For someone with the toddling clumsiness of an infant, she looked remarkably graceful as she came to stand beside him.

"You don't have to say," she said, head tilted toward him as she thumbed her lip. Her smile was tame, but the movement itself was so distracting that he almost missed what she said next. "But you can if you want. I'm a good listener."

He was a little slow in responding, but after tearing his eyes from her mouth, he managed, "I don't doubt it. You've put up with me until this point, after all."

Her smile widened, and she shook her head. "So true. Paris should know that I babysit their golden child."

Chat laughed, delighted. "Ladybug is Paris's golden child. I am Paris's troublemaker, remember?"

"Ah, how could I forget?" Marinette giggled, giving his shoulder a small shove. "A true bad boy."

Before he could think to filter himself, Chat leaned forward and murmured, "I could be good for you, though."

Color bloomed violently in Marinette's face, and honestly, he could hardly blame her. He slapped a hand over his mouth like he could recall the words, but they were already running laps around the balcony.

Embarrassed and resigned, Chat shut his eyes and raised his hand to conceal them. "Is there any chance at all that I only said that in my head?" Against his better judgement, he peeked between his fingers.

Marinette shook her head rather fervently.

With a final regretful squeeze, Chat opened his eyes and lowered his hand. "Of course not. Well." He clapped his hands like an awkward dad and hated himself more for it. "If you'll excuse me."

"You are the worst, Chat Noir," Marinette moaned, face buried in her hands. "The worst."

Like the fucking loser he was, he shot her finger-guns. "Throwing myself off the Eiffel Tower now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

When he landed in a crouch on the floor of his bedroom, he was almost afraid to detransform.

His fear was confirmed when, a few moments later, Plagg's horrible laughter filled the cavernous room.

But even so, he couldn't help the smile that touched his lips.

* * *

so that was a mess. anyway stan marichat because I need that best friends dynamic. feed me.

xoxo, J.