SO, I decided to do a little collection of song-themed oneshots. NOT songfics, just inspired by the song. Marked as complete, but I'll be adding to it.

This is going to have a HUGE variety in genres, because I listen to almost everything.

Song: Respect – Aretha Franklin

AU: None

Genre: General...? You guys tell me.

Summary: Ladybug just wants a little respect, but Chat seems insistent that he pushes her buttons.

Notes: This one's really short.

That was the last straw, she'd had enough.

He'd pushed every one of her buttons, searching for the very one that would push her over the edge. And damn it if he didn't find it.

So, congratulations, Chat Noir! You've shoved the Miraculous Ladybug off the deep end and turned her into a raving, crazy lunatic. As it were, she was spinning in circles and pulling at her bangs, not sure whether she wanted to walk away and never walk back, or march over there and kick him into the next century. He watched her with a wary eye, shrinking back into himself slowly and steadily with every step she took.

Finally, she stopped and glared at him, hair a mess and still in the tight grips of her fists. "Why is it so hard for you to be serious?"

He opened his mouth, but all he got out was the beginning of a vowel before she strode over and slapped a hand over his mouth.

"No, I don't want to hear. I'm sure whatever answer you have would just make me hurt you," she told him, sighing in frustration when he licked her gloved fingers. "Really? Have you no respect for me?"

Suddenly he froze, eyes going wide. Surprised, her hand withdrew from his mouth. "Is that honestly what you think? That I don't respect you?"

"Well...," she trailed off, feeling a little awkward now. "That is what I said."

"M'Lady, I revere you!" Chat wailed suddenly, hands raising as if it helped prove his point. "And haven't I respected all your wishes concerning out identities?"

Eyes narrowing, she planted her hands on her hips. "Sure, yes, but there's a whole lot more going against you."

His hands found their way to his hips as well, but he was sure to make his stance at least a little more manlier than hers. He had to actively keep his eyes off of the curve of her hip as it jutted out to her right... Ahem. "Enlighten me, then," he demanded, internally congratulating himself on keeping his voice from cracking.

"You flirt with me at the most inconvenient of times, after I've told you multiple times to stop," she began, and it looked like she was just starting a list she'd thought about several times before. "You do continuously ask for my identity, actually. You're mocking me by standing like that," she scowled, hip shifting to the other side.

It was all he could do to keep from groaning.

Her eyebrows drew together accusingly, then, and she held her hand up, palm facing him. "And you licked me. What are you, five?"

His hands came up in surrender, because she opened her mouth to continue. "Alright, alright, you win," he grinned, no trace of actual regret anywhere in his expression or tone. "Can't say you don't love it, though, Bugaboo," he winked before jumping off the roof and racing home.

She stood there, palm still facing out and left hand still on her propped hip, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "Right," she muttered, resisting the urge to actually growl.