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"Your hair's in my mouth."
"Oh my God, stop complaining."
Chat Noir retracted his arm from around her waist and flattened her pigtail onto her head. "It's gonna spring back up if I let go."
Ladybug rolled over angrily, yanking down her pyjama top after it had ridden up while they were spooning. "This is stupid."
"C'mon, My Lady, think of the benefits!"
"You said this was gonna help us de-stress. I'm even more stressed."
"Now you're just being dramatic."
She scoffed and crossed her arms as best she could with one of them squashed between her body and the mattress. "Now I'm dramatic?"
"You get dramatic when you're stressed!"
" You're dramatic!"
"You're the one who's yelling!"
"So are you!"
"Ugh, alright, come here." He lay on his back and opened an arm out to her. "Maybe this'll work?"
Ladybug almost rolled back over and switched off the table lamp, deciding she was done with his stupid experiment. She'd take the much-needed nap they'd booked their suite for, and be back home within the next few hours, where she could eat that tray of cookies she'd been waiting all day for.
But Chat Noir was the only person in the world that would overlook her sulking and still be happy to cuddle.
She swallowed a sigh at the risk of sounding resignatory and placed her head on his chest.
Chat Noir's hand came around to cup her shoulder, and she stretched her arm across his waist, the other tucked between them.
Ladybug peered up at him. "Sorry," she murmured. "My neck hurts."
He let out a breath, then dropped his head back into the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. "Alright… do you wanna lie on top of me?"
She considered, then used the arm between them to lift herself up and deposit herself onto his chest. Cautiously she tangled their legs, resting the socked sole of her foot against his ankle.
"Lift yourself up for a sec," she mumbled on his collarbone.
He obliged. Ladybug slid her palms face down beneath his torso, and, once her arms were securely around him, told him to lie back down.
He felt just like a pillow.
Ladybug closed her eyes against his heartbeat. Albeit a solid, warm, breathing pillow, but that wasn't a bad thing, per se. He embraced her back, and began rubbing her spine.
She could've purred , but that wasn't really something her namesake did.
"Is this better?" he asked into the parting of her hair.
She didn't want to nod, didn't want to displace her head from its nook under his chin.
Instead, she buried her face into his shirt, and he understood — as he always did, as he did when he suggested they try out this experiment he spent hours Googling last night.
Maybe there were some benefits to cuddling after all.