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zablife · 10 months

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Favorite Ex

Summary: When Carmy’s stress and anxiety rise to unprecedented levels, he shuts down and pushes you away. However, you can’t stop thinking about each other.

Author’s Note: Inspired by Maisie Peter’s song “Favourite Ex" and lines from S1, E5 which I've italicized.

Warnings: language, mention of fire, angst, break up, fluffy ending

Shades of orange consumed Carmy’s vision, searing heat hitting his face, neck and arms as flames rose dangerously high from the burners. His hands should have reached for the fire extinguisher instead of remaining by his side, arm hairs singing to oblivion. In that moment he wasn’t sure if he was unable or unwilling to guide himself, but he was well aware it wasn’t normal, this lack of concern for his own well being. As black smoke collected around him, the shifting light danced in his darkened pupils, but he wasn’t present, his thoughts were far away with you.

———————-

The light flickered above the kitchen sink as he watched you fill the coffee pot, the need for caffeine growing after days of getting up before five every day this week. “Carmy, did you pay the electric bill?” you demanded with a huff. You were always short with him recently and he knew he was letting you down, but the days at the restaurant were wearing on him.

Turning back to blow smoke out the window, he rubbed his eyes, trying to recall which bills he’d been able to take care of this month.

“Are you listening to me? They’re gonna cut you off again. I told you last week about the notice,” you said, reaching for the stack of papers piled high on the counter. Unable to find what you were looking for in the chaos, you gave up, placing your fingertips to your temples. “Look, Carmy, I know you wanted me to move here permanently, but I think that was just the grief talking.”

Carm grimaced as he flicked the cigarette butt out the window. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, you needed someone here with you after Mikey—“ you began, but he cut you off, jumping up from the window and pushing past you to stalk down the hall.

“Don’t do that!” you warned him.

“What?” he muttered as he kept walking.

“That thing you do where you walk away and don’t talk to me for days. I can’t stand it!”

He turned on his heel, facing you with clenched jaw. “Well, what the fuck am I supposed to say when you tell me you’re here out of pity.”

You furrowed your brow at his accusation. “That’s not what I said. I want to be here, but not if you won’t talk to me about what’s going on with you. You just shut me out and I need more!” You’d finally said what had been on your mind for weeks now, too afraid to voice your own needs when your boyfriend was struggling with major life changes.

“Well, I can’t do that,” he shouted. His words were so harsh it felt like a stab to the back. You’d been there for him since he got the call about Mikey and sat with him night after night when he had horrific nightmares, waking covered in sweat, but unwilling to say a word about them.

“Do you know how many people need me right now? Syd and Tina are at each other’s throats, Richie’s always starting shit and Sugar’s calling me twenty times a day about meetings and talking to Ma. I don’t need this from you too. I can’t do this!” he said, body suddenly going deathly still, eyes fixing on a water stain on the wall just as the lights went out.

Observing his rigid posture, you knew he’d shut down. It was how he coped with stress and even though you hated it, you had to accept that you weren’t going to get any more out of him today. You wiped a tear from your cheek as you nodded to yourself.

“Okay, Carmy. I’m gonna give you some space then,” you conceded, leaving him in the darkened hallway. He listened to the front door slam behind you as he rested his forehead against the adjacent doorway, knowing he’d fucked it all up and hating himself more than he already did.

——————————

“Carmy! Carmy!” A voice shouted, breaking through his haze and urging him to act. “Fire, chef!” Sweeps warned, moving up to take charge of the blaze. Carm finally moved back, shaking his head as though he were just realizing what was happening. Grabbing the fire extinguisher from the other man’s hands he pulled the pin and aimed the nozzle at the flames lapping at the stove, watching as a thick spurt of white foam issued forth. The fire died out with a sizzle and Carm breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Yo, Jeff, what happened?” Tina asked, popping her head around the corner.

“Fire’s out,” Sweeps declared, hauling the extinguisher off swiftly. Carmy turned to Tina, snapping back into work mode and asked, “Sorry, everything's fine. Did you finish your prep?”

“Yeah, you alright?” she said with concern, glancing up and down his disheveled form.

“I need to go take care of something,” he mumbled, heading for the alley.

————————-

Your phone rang and you immediately reached to silence it, stopping when you noticed Carm’s number flash on the screen. It had been three months since you’d spoken and you wondered if you should even answer. He’d made it clear that a relationship was not what he wanted right now and you had made peace with that….until now. You had to admit you missed him.

Your best nights had been with Carmy, listening to music in his tiny kitchen as you cooked together. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your hips as he checked the progress of the sauce over your shoulder. “More garlic,” he’d say with authority.

“Fuck your one star, I’m the chef tonight,” you always told him. His smirk told you he was pleased with your assertiveness, happy not to have make any decisions for the night. However, your need to take charge caused your worst fights as well. You wanted Carm to talk about Mikey and the more you pushed, the more he retreated from you. He said you didn’t understand, but you cared deeply, wanting to help him through his grief. Simply wanting to take care for him if only he'd let you.

The buzzing from your phone continued and you finally decided to pick up, more eager than you should have been to hear his voice again. You cleared your throat anxiously before answering with a shaky, “Carmy?”

“Y/n? Sorry, I know it’s late,” he apologized.

“S’okay. What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you picked at your pajama bottoms nervously.

“We had a fire at the restaurant today,” he began.

“Oh, my God, Carm, are you okay?” you blurted, worried about how calm he sounded despite what he’d just told you.

“Yeah, yeah. It was just a grease fire, you know? But the point is, I realized something. I was watching it and I had a minute where I thought—If I don’t do anything, this place will burn down and all my anxiety will go away with it,” he sighed heavily and your heart nearly broke at the sound, listening to him open up to you in a way you knew was difficult for him.

“And then I put the fire out,” he finished. “I snapped out of it and I realized I’ve been avoiding a lot of things….I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t think I could handle it all. Like I was waiting for Mikey to come back and fix all the fucked up shit he left, but I’m done with that. I want live my life for me.”

You nodded into the phone, lip trembling as you replied, “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“I haven’t slept without you. I’ve cried for weeks. Nothing feels right without you, but I’m going to start making some changes around here and I hope you’ll come back,” he said, swallowing harshly as he awaited your answer.

You searched the ceiling, wanting to say yes right away, but knowing how Carmy’s mood could change on a dime. “That sounds really good so let’s start with dinner first, ok?” you asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he rushed out, relieved to hear you would see him again. “You free Thursday?”

“Thursday? Sure,” you agreed.

Then you heard him breathe into the phone as though he was letting out an anxious breath. “You still like chicken piccata?” he asked and you smiled, knowing he remembered your favorite.

“Only if you let me help make the sauce,” you countered. “Fucking one star,” you quipped. You heard him laugh and it warmed your heart.

You liked the thought of calling him that again instead of your ex. He was your favorite ex, but that wasn't really a consolation. You hoped things were changing for the better, but only time would tell.

#The Bear fanfic #The Bear imagine #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #Carmy x y/n #Carmy x you #carmy berzatto fanfiction

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xekstrin · 6 years

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Looking Through Your Windows (Alya/Marinette)

A/N: So I recently watched S1 of Miraculous Ladybug and fell hard for Alyanette. I still haven’t seen S2, but the wonderful @sailorscooby asked me to write an Alya/Marinette fic as a patron request, with the theme being “Unmasking, and the direct aftermath.”

So... Enjoy!

AO3 Link Become my patron!

"Tag! You're it!"

Lightning fast, three silver blades whistled through the air. Marinette ducked and rolled out of the way, yoyo spinning fast enough to deflect the ones that skirted too close. She kept up her momentum and started running, stumbling as a rain of blades followed her. The Dagger Tagger hounded after her, intent on landing at least one clean hit.

"You'll carry my signature whether you like it or not, Ladybug!" he shouted as she dropped from the rooftops to the relative safety of the side streets and alleyways. At least there was more cover here; she was less exposed.

Well... this day could have gone better.

Once she lost his trail, Ladybug paused to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding, every sense on alert for attack.

The Dagger Tagger didn't look much bigger than her; this wasn't an Akuma who would do well in close quarters. The problem was she couldn't get close without him throwing one of those knives of his, the ones that stuck out of its targets backs and turned them into his henchmen.

She learned that the hard way, after spending most of the day ducking Cat Noir's vicious attacks.

Mind control, she thought bitterly, it's always mind control.

For just a flash she felt guilty, knowing it wasn't his fault. Cat was her partner. If she were under a spell, she would want him to fix her. Not sulk around all day.

"Pst, Ladybug."

A hand on her shoulder made her panic. Grabbing it, she tossed the offender over her shoulder and onto the ground, twisting their arm to keep them down. "Not today, Cat—!"

It wasn't Cat.

Alya, her best friend that didn't know she was her best friend, groaned in pain.

"Ow," she said.

Worried now, Ladybug helped her up. "Oh no— Alya!" She paused, just barely resisting the urge to cup her face in both hands and kiss her forehead. "It is Alya, right? I'm always afraid I'm going to get your name wrong."

Pretending not to know her was one of the worst tortures of being Ladybug, but she did her best.

"Sorry, Ladybug.” Alya nodded, nursing her sore head and wincing. She sat up, legs crisscrossed. “I should have known better than to sneak up on you.”

Taking Alya by the elbow, she started leading her down the alleyways. A little surprised, Alya went along with it, still talking. “I just didn't want to shout to get your attention and give away your position to the Akuma."

She searched for something to say, knowing Alya would take her silence as nerves, or as an opportunity to ask questions that Ladybug couldn't safely answer. "Smart on top of cute, huh?" she said, unable to resist dropping in a compliment or two. "Nice thinking."

Alya never needed help in the self-esteem department, but when she wore the costume, Marinette just couldn't help herself. Saying the words as 'herself' didn't carry nearly as much weight as when she said it as Ladybug.

"Where are we going?" Alya said, only now fully realizing that Ladybug was dragging her away from the combat zone. "Wait, wait, stop! I needed to tell you something!" Alya dug her heels in.

Though Ladybug could have easily hefted her over her shoulder and carted her away, she relented. "What is it? The Dagger Tagger could be here any moment. You're in danger as long as you're in his territory."

A sudden curious glint lit up Alya's eyes, overtaking her pain and her worry. "Is that his name? What are his powers other than mind control? Do you know? Does Ladybug have a strategy in mind to defeat this newest foe?!"

Ladybug leaned forward, shouting her down. "Alya!" she said sternly. "This isn't the time for an interview! Use your head!"

Overhead, gray storm clouds were rising. Thick and heavy with anticipation, a strike of lightning crashed nearby, the thunder instant in its wake.

Alya shrunk, wincing at the noise and her tone. "Sorry, sorry! I do have something to share, though." She pulled out her phone, sifting through photos and videos for the one she wanted. "One of the people with the daggers in their back fell into a water fountain, and that seemed to snap them out of it."

"Hmm." Ladybug took the phone, humming in thought at the video.

"Just like the Wicked Witch, I guess?" Alya's voice wavered with nerves, eager to impress her idol. She was so easy to read, it was charming.

The sight of the dagger melting right out of a victim's back triggered some other memory. "More like a painting that hasn't been sealed." Giving her phone back, Ladybug again repressed the urge to kiss her friend goodbye. "Thanks for the help, beautiful. You may have given me what I needed."

Alya winked, her smile making the whole world around her grow a little brighter to compensate.

Then her expression shattered in alarm. Her grip on Ladybug's arms tightened, and she whirled her around to reverse their positions. "Ladybug, look out—!"

A little sob of pain escaped her as she held Ladybug tight, shielding her with her own body.

The knife sank in deeper into Alya's back, all the way up to the hilt. No blood spilled and no actual physical harm came to her, but the visual was too much to bear. Horrified, Ladybug froze up, unable to move or speak.

"Tag! You're it!" said the Dagger Tagger, and Alya's eyes flashed furious crimson.

Reality ensued and Alya took a swing at Ladybug, making her scramble to leap out of the way.

"This is all your fault, you know!" Alya shouted after her, in full pursuit. The Dagger Tagger took another route— no doubt to try and sneak around to try and pincer Ladybug, with Alya's help. "Acting like you're so much better than everyone else. The Dagger Tagger has the right idea. He's going to carve his name all over the city! That's the only way anyone can get respect around here, with you hogging all the spotlight!"

She hated this part.

There was always a moment, one shining moment of helpless hope. No matter what Ladybug had seen, what magics had woven around her and made the impossible reality, she clung to the idea that this wasn't happening. That if she said the right words, she could snap them out of it.

"That doesn't sound like what you want, Alya," she said, pulling her yoyo free and swinging it loosely. She didn't want to strike Alya or any other citizen too hard, and the Dagger Tagger knew it, curse him. "Destroying what others work so hard to create? Not your style."

"You don’t know anything about me!"

Alya rushed her again. Leapfrogging over her, Ladybug swung once. She tripped Alya up by the ankles, wincing as she stumbled to the floor.

"I'm nothing to you!" Alya spat. "Even though it was me from the very beginning! Before any other news station covered you, before any magazine had you on their cover, it was me! It's always been me!"

Alya stood up, shouting with her eyes clenched shut.

"I loved you before any of them did!"

Ladybug stumbled, catching herself before she went face first onto the cement. Flitting from shadow to shadow, she felt more than saw the Dagger Tagger closing in on them. On top of that, she heard the sinister draw of metal claws against stone. Somewhere out there, Cat Noir was still furiously hunting her down. Trying to psyche her out.

She was out of options; she had to use her Lucky Charm now, before things grew even more out of control.

She summoned it, calling out the words to bring what fate willed her. And into her palms dropped a heavy, lumbering...

"Monkey wrench? What, do I sock him over the head with it?"

Left without an answer, she lugged the thing around even though it weighed her down. Alya and the Dagger Tagger both came after her, fists and blades swinging. Then a shadow at her back, whisper-light, so quiet anyone else wouldn't have known that Cat Noir was standing right behind her.

Surrounded!

Ducking low, Ladybug made a break for it. Everything around her seemed dull, lifeless, without inspiration. She couldn't see anything in her surroundings that would help....

Unless...

She saw out, past the entrance to the alleyway, a fire hydrant. It flashed before her eyes, the giant drive nut that controlled the water valve.

Breaking out into a sprint, ducking and dodging, she left the relative safety of the alleyway for the open street. She was a more vulnerable target out here, but she had to just trust she would be faster than the Dagger Tagger's blades.

Sure enough:

"I've got you now, Ladybug! You'll hand me your Miraculous yourself!" He shouted, just behind her. He leapt up into the air, the lure of her unprotected back too much for him to bear. "Tag! You're—"

She dropped to her knees, sliding over asphalt and landing next to the fire hydrant. With a pained grunt, she unleashed the flood. The Dagger Tagger flipped out of the way, his garish neon hoodie rippling in the wind. But Alya and Cat both got the full brunt of the assault.

Sputtering and coughing, Cat blinked a few times and looked around. "Oh no. Did I—?"

She cut him short. "You can apologize by getting his Akuma. It's got to be in one of his knives!"

Cat nodded. Another volley of knives came at them, but between his staff and her yoyo they were safe. Standing back to back so that he couldn't plunge another dagger in, they hunted him down, cornering him like a rat.

"It's over, Dagger Tagger!" Even as she spoke, she could feel the countdown beginning, right on her earlobe.

Need to end this quick.

The Akumatized boy stepped back, hissing a bit like a cornered cat himself.

"Cataclysm!"

Leaping into the air, Cat lunged right above the Dagger Tagger. Flipping, he swiped at the fire escape in the alleyway above. In a crumble of rust, it fell down on the unfortunate young man, and when the dust settled Ladybug had his knife in her hand.

Not too long ago a boy named Christopher had been using it to carve his name into desks and trees, and savaging posters of Adrien's face. She felt for him, because she knew exactly what kind of loneliness drives a person to act out for attention. But she also knew this wasn't him, merely his worst impulses and desires given shape.

She shattered his Akuma; she freed him.

All across Paris, as she sealed away the darkness and left it purified of all evil, victims of the Dagger Tagger regained their senses. Vandalisms cut short, people desperately trying to carve their own name into something important to them, all of them screaming for attention, for desire, to be noticed, to be recognized. To stake a claim in what they felt belonged to them.

Nearby, one of them was nursing a fierce headache.

"Ohhh." Alya moaned, rubbing her forehead. "Where am I?"

"Safe," Ladybug said. "Are you okay? You poor thing, you're soaked to the bone..."

She helped her back up to her feet for the second time that afternoon.

"Just dizzy. Did you stop the Dagger Tagger?"

Ladybug nodded, then let her go. "With your help. Until next time, beautiful."

She wasn't very good at goodbyes, especially when her timer was running down. But Alya caught her just before she could take off.

"Wait! Before you leave, let me..." She fumbled for her phone, to get one last statement. Wrly, Ladybug noticed the phone was in better shape than Alya herself, well-protected with a waterproof cover. Then Alya giggled. "Oh, no. It's still recording from before I got Dagger'd."

Little alarm bells started ringing in the back of her head. "You were recording that?" She hadn't even noticed.

Alya was unashamed. "I'm always recording when I get you alone, Ladybug."

Great. It didn't help that the way she said that was so suggestive. Ladybug found suddenly she couldn't speak, throat tight with a cluster of nerves. Internally, she went over their every private interaction over the past few years and had to stifle a groan.

Lately, they'd been playing their Lois Lane and Superman parallels just a bit too hard. But could you blame her? She just felt so confident and in control when she was wearing the mask; it was easier to flirt with her friend when the stakes were so much lower.

Because Ladybug and Alya could never be a thing. Ever.

So she wasn't risking their friendship when she admired her out loud.

Finally Ladybug settled on, "...I'm not sure how to feel about that."

"Why? You know you can trust me!" Alya protested, clutching her phone to her chest like Ladybug might try and snatch it away. As if. Ladybug valued her life too much to make such an attempt. "The fact that nothing incriminating has leaked yet should be proof of that."

Something about that leaned a little too close to resentment. She thought back to what Alya had said, just before Ladybug snapped her out of her mind control. Misreading the stoic silence, Alya stepped closer, trying to press for more. She was always trying to push for more.

"You could even take off your mask..." She pressed a finger to her lips. "I promise not to tell."

That, at least, she had a solid answer to. "Listen." Ladybug sighed, carefully angling Alya out of her personal bubble again. But she left her hands on the other girl's shoulders. "I can't do that. Even if the Alya I know is honest and..."

Ladybug took a deep breath, again finding it hard not to delve into all of Alya's good traits. She'd be there all day, and the countdown was at three minutes.

"Honest and kind," she settled on, cupping Alya's cheek in one hand. "Someone might take what you know against your will. They might make you into an Alya who would love nothing more than to hurt me. Do you understand?"

Alya averted her eyes, frowning.

"It's not a matter of trust, Alya. I already trust you, as I hope you trust me. But there's someone I need to protect. And I'd do anything to make sure she stayed safe."

She left it vague who she meant; it wasn't like she could tell Alya everything she felt.

Just a little taller than Ladybug, even with the heels, Alya still managed to look up to her. "Yeah. Well, I'd do anything for you, Ladybug!" she said, and Ladybug knew from experience that Alya meant it with all her heart. Though in this case, what she probably meant was I'd do anything to get that mask off.

"Then do one more thing for me." She lifted a finger, making sure Alya was paying attention before she continued. "If you listen to that recording, I want you to not be embarrassed by what you said. I know you didn't mean it, even though some of it is kind of true..." She clucked her tongue, chastising herself. "Wait, that came out wrong..."

Two spots of color rose up on her cheeks. "Oh great... what did I say?"

"It's always been you. Since the beginning," Ladybug explained. "You and me."

And Cat, I guess, she thought privately, but didn't want to ruin the moment. Besides, he'd already vanished after a quick fist bump, eager to leave before his timer ran out.

She wasn't too good on time herself. Her suspicion was confirmed when Alya's eyes widened in shock. "Uh oh. Ladybug, your spots!"

Instinctively, Ladybug covered her ears like that would slow the countdown. "Ugh. Okay. Just think about what I said, will you, beautiful?"

"That depends. Are you only calling me that because you forgot my name again?"

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "...Alya."

With a catlike grin, Alya winked. So Ladybug rocketed out of there as fast as she could travel. Her yoyo spun, swinging her over the rooftops of Paris. She didn't spare a glance behind her, knowing that Alya would stay rooted to the spot for some time yet.

She had someone to go visit.

It took some walking, but Marinette eventually found the skate park where a boy named Christopher spent most of his time. The boy was curled up in one of the tunnels, a sketchpad on his lap and a vacant expression on his face. Daydreaming.

Tikki wriggled out of her purse as she spied on him, resting on her shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this, Marinette? Christopher doesn't really know you, he might get suspicious about how much you know about him."

"Well yeah, but..." She hesitated, unsure of whether to progress. "But I felt so bad after I found out why he changed. I just want to help him any way I can. I—"

The sudden passing sight of a familiar blonde head made Marinette duck back down. She scrambled for cover behind a park bench, heart beating wildly as Adrien approached Christopher himself.

"Hey Christopher! Is that the newest piece I commissioned?"

The other boy twitched, holding the sketchpad closer. "Um. Yeah."

"Thanks a lot." He took a seat next to him, glancing over at the sketch. "It looks really great. Nino's gonna be thrilled, and I just know your art is what his album cover needs."

What?

Marinette couldn't begin to imagine how these two met. Adrien was so sheltered, it wasn't like he had many opportunities to make friends outside school. Christopher looked uncomfortable too, uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Um, can I ask why you commissioned me?" Christopher turned a little red. "I mean, I'm the one who drew a mustache on that big new poster of you downtown..."

Adrien started laughing. "That? Who cares about that, they'll replace it in a week. I thought it was funny, actually... but I also don't want you to get in any trouble anymore." Adrien gestures around them, at the skate park tagged with a million variations of Christopher's signature. "You have a lot of talent. I think there's other ways you can share it with people."

Slowly— very slowly— Marinette backed away.

Tikki flew around her head as she did, whispering. "Wait, where are you going? Now you have a chance to enter the conversation, Adrien is your friend!"

"He's doing a much better job than I could," Marinette said, then blinked as a fat droplet of water fell on her face. "Oh, darn it. Seriously?"

The dark clouds above finally gathered together enough to spill over the earth. First drop by drop, then a deluge. Marinette struggled out of her jacket, holding it over her head as she ran back home. "It couldn't have rained earlier, when I needed the water?"

She groused all the way home, but really, she felt ten pounds lighter.

Stepping inside, she kicked off her shoes and dripped her way across the living area to the stairs. Her parents, cuddled up together under a blanket to enjoy the stormy weather together, did a double take to see her.

"Wait, you went out? When did you leave?" Her mom asked. "You poor dear! You're all wet...I thought you were still upstairs just a moment ago, I could have sworn I heard your feet."

"Maybe it was a ghost," her dad said, giving her mom's ribs a little pinch. She laughed, smacking his hand away, and left Marinette to trudge upstairs to get out of her wet clothes.

Except when she looked up, Alya was there waiting for her.

Her best friend looked just as bedraggled, soaked to the bone. Her hair clung to her scalp and neck, curls dark with water. Cleaning her glasses, Alya shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, unable to meet Marinette's eyes.

Uh-oh.

She forced a smile, because Marinette wouldn't know that something was wrong. Or maybe she would, but she wouldn't know right away that Alya had probably listened to a recording of a mind-controlled version of herself confessing her love to her idol. "Sneaky girl. How'd you get in here?"

A little smirk lit up her face, almost smoldering with self confidence. "The window trick. Remember?" Just like the rain battering her windows, though, her expression quickly washed away. She grew pale, stress pinching up little wrinkles on her brow. "I don't want your parents to know I'm here."

Marinette got a towel for both of them. While she scrubbed her face, she tried to school it into something neutral, hoping Alya couldn't sense her anxiety. "Are you in trouble? Is everything okay?"

"No to both." Alya shivered, still drenched to the bone. With a jolt of sympathy, Marinette realized her friend hadn't changed outfits that day.

Did she get hit with that fire hydrant and then walk here in the rain? Alyaaaaaaaa....!!!!

Warm with affection and tender with pity, she reached out to cup Alya's cheek in her palm. "Let's get you into something warm. Okay? Then we can sit down and you can tell me all about it."

They turned their backs to each other to quickly change, dripping clothes tossed into a pile on the floor. In borrowed fleece, Alya looked adorably rumpled, her hair wet and frizzing up.

Slowly, rambling in circles and stuttering stops, Alya told Marinette what she already knew. She nodded along, listening attentively as they sat side by side on her mattress. As always, they were close— at first with their arms linked, then lying down wrapped tight together, chest to chest. Alya spoke into the hollow of Marinette's neck, the other girl's chin resting on top of her head.

The rumble of her lips against her skin was terribly distracting. But it was easy as Marinette to touch her. It didn't carry that same weight; it felt like Alya was just an extension of herself. There wasn't that tight restraint of someone incredibly powerful dealing with someone much smaller and much more vulnerable than herself, someone who idolized her and would, by admission, do anything for her.

It wasn't the same.

"Lots of people tell Ladybug they love her. I'm sure she's flattered." Marinette tried a logical approach. She stroked a hand down Alya's back. "Also, didn't she warn you not to be too messed up by what you said when you were mind controlled?"

She remembered, briefly, a time when that sentence would have sounded like utter nonsense.

Simpler times!

"I guess," Alya grumbled. She opened up her phone, sliding the scrubber bar to pause the video over Ladybug's face. "God, I wish I knew more about her."

From this angle she couldn't see Alya's expression, and was left to wonder. Would it be wide-eyed, awestruck at just the thought of her hero? Or sharp and angry at the mystery that still eluded her?

Marinette knew better than to get jealous of herself, but it was hard, some days.

"Hey," Alya said quietly. "Can you tell me I've had a bad day? I think I'll believe it when I hear you say it."

"You had a really rough day," Marinette said. "And it's okay if you don't feel like yourself just yet."

"Thanks. Cause you know, I'm feeling like... I know it's just in my head, and I wouldn't even be saying this if I were in my right senses..." Alya hesitated. "But some days I almost get the feeling she wants me to catch her."

A little chill that had nothing to do with the weather ran down her spine. "What makes you say that?"

"I guess you can't understand," Alya mused. "You're never there when Ladybug talks to me— and I never know if I'm imagining things or if she's really flirting back. But I swear—"

Marinette felt the back of Alya's neck grow warm under her palm.

"I know I told you this story a million times and you're sick of hearing me gush, but I swear, that one time I ran into her late at night... she was this close, Marinette."

To demonstrate, Alya angled closer to her, their noses just barely touching. She didn't need to, of course. Marinette remembered it too well, and she'd been beating herself up over it ever since. She'd spotted Alya walking home alone in the dark, and instead of the smart thing of greeting her as Marinette...

She... well, she stalked her a little bit.

Needing the courage boost, she transformed into Ladybug as soon as she could and cornered her friend for one of their private chats. Even though she never laid a finger on Alya, the promise had been there. They'd both been darkly eager to see which of them would cross the line first.

Insulated from the world, confident in her ability to fend off anything that might interrupt, and certain Alya wouldn't have denied her anything she asked. She was drunk with power, the air heady with the scent of Alya's hair as she leaned in.

In the suit, she felt like a pillar of raw muscle, skintight and strong enough to take anything she wanted.

Until she realized what she was doing. She wasn't Alya's friend when she wore the costume. And everything she wanted was so, so wrong.

"And she had her arm like trapping me in place, like a what's-it-called. In K-dramas." She shouted in glee when she remembered. "Kabedon! God, I can't believe Ladybug tried to freaking kabedon me. I'm not making this up!"

Marinette laughed uncomfortably. "I never said I didn't believe you! But... isn't Ladybug shorter than you? That's an awkward move for the shorter person in the ship."

Alya just sighed, a dreamy smile washing over her face. "I know. It was soooo adorable. But then she went all cold again! She escorted me home, and—" Her eyes popped open wide again. "Wait! You said ship. You ship us?"

"I ship you with the romantic ideal of getting whisked off your feet by a super mutant."

"Ladybug's powers are not the result of a mutation, Marinette, we went over this." Alya huffed. "Do I have to pull out the chart again? This is clearly closer to a Dr. Strange than an X-Men scenario we're dealing with."

"Of course, of course. I'm sorry. I'll be more careful from now on."

She pressed her cheek against Marinette's chest, smiling weakly up at her. "Thanks." Just as quickly, it fluttered away like the wings of an Akuma. "But I know I'm not imagining things. Do you think I should go for it? The next chance I get?" She tightened her grip on Marinette's shoulder. Lying down on her mattress, facing each other, there was little room for her to go anywhere but closer to Marinette. "Do you think I'm weird and sad and pathetic for even thinking I have a chance?"

Marinette knew she had no one to blame for this scenario except herself. For years she had been Alya's closest friend, and kept this secret from her. She encouraged Alya's passions even when she skirted too close to the truth, and supported her and listened to her ramble about her crush for hours.

So there was really only one thing to say. "I think you should follow your heart, Alya."

She said it even though she knew it would end it heartbreak. Because there was no way Ladybug could ever truly love Alya back. Not without threatening everything they had.

The advice was pithy and useless, she knew. Alya didn't take it well, muttering darkly. "My heart doesn't know what it wants. I feel like she's toying with me, Marinette. Even today, she said..."

Alya stopped herself short. Her jaw clicked shut, and Marinette found herself leaning forward, waiting for the rest.

And Alya spoke slowly, rolled the words around, contemplated them for what they actually meant. "She said there was someone she needed to protect."

"Well that could mean anything—"

"Not how she said it, girl. Not the way it made me feel." Alya looked torn between worry and longing. "It was like she was talking about me."

Warm and comfortable in Alya's arms, Marinette found she couldn't look away. She wanted nothing more than to stay right where she was, sinking into a pair of hazel eyes that swam just on the edge of green.

Until Alya shifted, a blush spreading over her cheeks. "But mostly... mostly it just made me think of you."

Quite suddenly and without any warning, things changed between them. And this time, there wasn't even a costume to blame. Warmth blazed up into an uncomfortable heat licking up the back of her neck.

"Is there anyone like that for you, Marinette?"

"Of course there is."

"Who?"

Briefly, unbidden, an image of Adrien came to mind. She'd nursed a quiet crush on him for a year, but never told anyone. Not even Alya. She'd stamped it down under her heels until the embers crushed inward and died.

She could do it again, she realized with a breathy, panicked wonder. Just like before, she could pretend this wasn't happening and break this, snap it clean at the hilt.

If only she could be Ladybug for just this one instant. When in the costume, she always knew what to say.

As Ladybug she denied herself everything except the simplest of touches, daring to step close but never make any meaningful connection. But the speeches, the words, came so easily.

As Marinette, she could touch her. But she could never reach her in the ways that mattered, either.

Except for right now. She tapped into that core deep inside her, drilling up the part of her that she kept hidden. For an instant, she was both.

"It's you Alya," she said. "It's always been you."

The distance was so scant all she had to do was lean forward, and their lips pressed together in a searing kiss. It was a simple brush of skin against skin but it lit her up inside, she felt like she'd stuck her thumb into an electric socket and her skeleton glowed neon-bright through her skin like a cartoon.

For the span of one sentence, one shuddering exhale, she was one whole creature. At last.

Then Alya darted back, scooting away from her until she was on the edge of the mattress. Her best friend stared at her like she'd been socked in the gut.

Utterly betrayed.

Marinette froze. She reached out, "Alya—"

And Alya flinched away.

She got up, both hands to her chest and backing away slowly.

Sitting up, Marinette scrambled for something to say. "I missed, I'm sorry. I meant to kiss your cheek—" she fumbled a lie, almost convincing herself it was true. But the stricken look on Alya's face made the words die in her throat.

The silence was horrifyingly loud. The world started to spin, her body cold as ice. Rushing, pounding blood filled her ears until the silence was drowned out by her panic, her own racing heartbeat.

She was going to be sick.

Alya only said one word, in a trembling whisper.

"...You?"

The room flashed bright white, lightning striking outside. Marinette could see Alya say something else, but couldn't hear her in the resulting thunderous roar.

Alya left in her borrowed clothes, not bothering to escape through the skylight in Marinette's roof. Pounding down the stairs, she rushed past Marinette's confused parents, their questions and half-baked sentences, and ran back out into the rain.

In a flash, Tikki zoomed out of Marinette's purse to land on her shoulder. "Marinette? Marinette, are you alright? I'm so sorry..." The warmth of her small body did little to pull Marinette from herself. But her next question forced Marinette to confront an uncomfortable truth. "What happened? Why was she upset about the kiss? I thought she liked you!"

Marinette opened her mouth, then closed it. Vividly, she realized Tikki didn't even suspect what Alya might know. Marinette lived so long on the edge of paranoia, knowing that at any moment Alya could unravel the whole mystery and unmask her. That was part of the thrill of flirting with her as Ladybug, the knowledge that under it all Alya ached to rip the mask from her face.

That fear was so strong it overshadowed the more likely explanation: she completely misinterpreted Alya's feelings towards her as Marinette. Now she wasn't sure if she'd ruined their friendship in another way entirely.

What if any attempt to mend it would again risk exposing her secret?

Okay, she thought again, coiling up in misery. This day could have gone better.

The next morning she slept in past her alarm. Tikki had to turn it off herself, because Marinete couldn't muster up the energy to stretch that far out of bed. "Come on, Marinette. It's not good to miss school on days you aren't saving the city!"

In the end her father had to come fetch her, not knocking as he began a lecture.

"Marinette, you know I have no problem with Alya spending the night on school days. But if it's going to cause you to not get any sleep..."

He pulled down the comforter a bit and paused when he saw her. Marinette dolefully stared back at him, then pulled the blankets back over her head.

"Oh my goodness... Marinette, you're white as paper. Is everything okay?" He reached to press a palm to her forehead. "You're freezing cold... We'll call Dupont and let them know you'll be staying home sick."

Of course she wanted to say thanks, just as much as she wanted to insist she wasn't sick. But the truth of it was more complicated than that. She was heartsick, she knew, as silly as that sounded.

"Papa," she said, voice croaking.

Her father paused just before leaving her room.

Alya is mad at me.

"...Can you make me some soup?"

He smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling in soft amusement. "Of course. Anything for my little one."

She rolled over when he left, sinking deeper into the mattress.

But of course she couldn't stay in bed for the rest of her life, as much as she wanted. The next day she staked out the classroom, anxiously waiting to see if Alya would arrive first. When she felt a set of hands on her shoulders, she almost screamed.

It was just Adrien. "Hey Marinette. Feeling any better? I heard you were sick yester—"

"Swap seats with me!!!"

She grabbed him, shaking him so hard his blonde hair flopped. Adrien agreed half-heartedly, not that she really gave him a choice, and she hustled up to his spot in the classroom, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

One by one her other classmates filed in, chatting with each other. Adrien awkwardly took her spot, making a cutting motion with his neck when Nino moved to join him. Her fingernails rattled a nervous rhythm on the desk, her heart leaping every time someone opened the classroom door. But just as she convinced herself that maybe Alya wouldn't show... she did.

They locked eyes. Then Alya's gaze darted down to where Marinette should be sitting.

Her face settled into a stony mask.

When she walked past Marinette to slide into the seat next to Adrien, she could feel her presence like a bonfire. Right behind her, just a few scant inches away. Alya could lean forward and touch Marinette at any point. It wouldn't be hard at all.

Immediately, she regretted her decision to swap seats. Because for the rest of the day, Marinette didn't dare turn around.

For the first time since they'd met, Alya didn't respond to any of her text messages.

Somehow, that stung as the worst betrayal of them all. In a fit of anger, Marinette blocked her number and deleted her name from her phone. For weeks afterwards, though, she flipped through pictures they had taken together. All of them earned a spot as her phone wallpaper at one point or another, and most of them left her face down in the pillows, heaving sobs as Tikki soothingly pressed a hug to the back of her neck.

A distressed text from Nino is what made her finally move.

What's up with the Ladyblog????? He sent, along with a string of confused and upset emoji faces.

When she booted up her laptop and went to the blog, her stomach did a nervous flip. The comforting black and red pattern was gone. All of it was gone. The entire website was nothing but a white, blank page, with letters in bold black caps.

WE NEED TO TALK

Heart pounding, Marinette slammed her laptop shut.

The moment she did, Tikki flew around her head once, scolding her. "You can't run away from this forever, Marinette!" she said. "Alya is your best friend. You need to fix what's broken!"

Marinette sank sullenly into her desk chair, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Alya hates me. She never wants to talk to me again, and nothing I do will change that."

In response, Tikki grabbed two small fistsfuls of her pigtails and yanked.

"Ow!" Marinette twitched, shocked by how strong the little kwami could be. "What was that for?!"

"She's asking you to talk right now!" Tikki said. "Go get her, Marinette!" Then Tikki flew right up to her face, their brows pressed together. "For goodness sake, you love her!"

She nearly went cross-eyed trying to match Tikki's gaze. "What difference does that make?"

"Marinette," Tikki said, the very picture of irritated, long-suffering patience. "I'm over a thousand years old. Please trust me when I say Alya is in just as much pain as you are."

Marinette wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor, down into the dirt, into the molten core of the Earth and burn into a million teeny tiny pieces. She wanted to die, put simply. More importantly...

"Alya suspects I'm Ladybug. If I'm supposed to keep this a secret..." The truth hit her harder than ever.

I can't ever be close to her again.

...

...Unless.

A single word. Just the seed of an idea, ready to germinate. Cupping Tikki in her palms, she stood up and paced the length of her room.

"Unless I find a way to change her mind," she mused out loud, rubbing her thumb over Tikki's velvety head. "If I go answer the call as Ladybug instead. And then I'll pretend I don't know anything she's talking about, and as Marinette I can pretend I'm only upset because of the kiss and I don't even suspect that she suspects."

She held Tikki up over her head. "Does that make sense?"

"I think you should just be honest with her," Tikki admitted.

"Idea vetoed. Tikki...!" She tossed the kwami into the air.

"Spots on!"

Alya's house was close enough to walk, even as Marinette. As Ladybug, it was literally a hop skip and a jump away. She hovered just outside, scanning it long enough to ensure Alya was home alone.

God, I feel like such a creep.

Shoving the thoughts down, she slid in through the street-facing window. Alya didn't notice her at first, which wasn't surprising. She was no Cat Noir, but Ladybug had long since mastered the art of silent entry and escape.

Alya tapped away at her computer, hair piled up on top of her head in a messy bun. At the sight of her friend, Ladybug was rendered into nothing but pain, and a love so deep it ached.

"Hello, beautiful," Ladybug said quietly.

Alya scrambled, almost falling out of her chair. "Ladybug!" she ducked down, hands running over her shirt once like she could smooth her t-shirt and sweats into something more presentable. "I... I... you..."

She didn't want Alya to fret too much about her appearance. Taking charge as she always did, Ladybug strode over. The distance between them shrank, until she stood over her. "You look surprised to see me. Don't tell me that message was for someone else?"

Seated in her desk chair with her legs criss crossed, Alya just looked up at her with that expression she wished she didn't love so much. One of awe, and barely contained yearning.

"Of course it was for you," Alya said. "I just wasn't expecting you to actually come."

Ladybug's smile stretched, as she was left wondering if Alya felt as confused as she did.

What conversation were they even having right now? Did Alya think she was talking to Marinette? Or had Ladybug been fretting all this time over the wrong secret between them?

She still couldn't tell.

Keep up the act. Just in case.

"I wasn't sure I should come." She leaned down, tucking a finger under Alya's chin to tilt her head back. In between Ladybug's heels and the fact that Alya was still huddled in her chair, making eye contact meant keeping her at a fairly sharp angle. "If my enemies knew I was so easy to lure, it would be bad news for both of us."

Alya's pulse hammered hard enough that Ladybug could feel it through the thick fabric of her gloves. "Then why?"

Here was the part that would cinch it. She had to sell it as the truth, or Alya would forever suspect. "I was worried. You'd never tried to contact me before," Ladybug admitted, letting her hand drop from Alya's face. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were in trouble and I ignored it."

Ladybug let her tone drop, heavy and sardonic. "But now I look the fool, don't I? Am I here for another interview?" Her eyes raked her up and down, but only once. "Or is this a social call?"

One thing she picked up after years of hanging out with Cat was his knee-jerk flirting reflex when he was uncomfortable. Unfortunately, it didn't always have the intended effect.

Alya's fist gripped the fabric of her sweatpants, knuckles going white. Her brows furrowed, dark with anger. How dare you play dumb, Marinette, that expression said. But Ladybug maintained that intense gaze, waiting for Alya to tip her hand.

And finally, Ladybug saw what she both needed and dreaded: Doubt.

"I thought I had you." Alya slumped over, head in her hands. "I was so sure. To everyone, you always look different. But to me you always looked like..."

Anxiety lit up Alya’s eyes, like a stop sign. Going mum, she quit while she was ahead.

There was no satisfaction in this. Ladybug mourned her victory even as she kept her cool, wondering if there was some way she could make Alya feel better. "Sorry, beautiful. I'm sure it was a good theory, though. Why don't you show me?"

An idea struck her. "In fact," Lady set her hand on the back of Alya's chair, turning her to face the computer. "Show me everything."

"What?"

"Everything you have on me." Alya's expression hardened with suspicion, so Ladybug elaborated. "I've always been curious about how close you are to the truth. I'll help narrow down your search in return."

"You're saying..." she tried to put it together. "You'll help me try to expose... your own identity?"

What better way to regain her trust than to offer a once in a lifetime opportunity? At least, as Ladybug. As Marinette she still needed a game plan.

She watched with mild fascination as Alya's throat bobbed, a delicate motion, a nervous twitch like a trapped rabbit. One palm rested on Alya's desk. With the other she moved her mouse, and the screen flickered to life on a folder full of pictures and videos of Ladybug.

"Well, I'll mostly be frustratingly vague. But I'll help, yes."

Alya tore her eyes away at last, forcing herself to stare at the screen instead. "So how are we going to do this?"

"Let's make a game out of it. Hot and cold. You tell me your theories..." She dared a sidelong grin at Alya. "...and I'll let you know if we're getting too hot."

Alya's cheeks flushed bright red. "You shouldn't flirt with a girl that much younger than you." After she said it, though, an idea struck her. She swiveled her chair a bit to twist from side to side, speaking as if the answer just hit her. "...You're not that much older than me, are you?"

"Warm," Ladybug said.

"So you're my age."

"Scorching hot."

So the game went on, narrowing down clues. She didn't make it too easy for Alya. After giving her the first few questions to establish the rules, Ladybug made her prove her assumptions. She couldn't just fling theories around wildly and narrow it down via process of elimination.

"Ladybug isn't just one person." Alya showed her proof, pictures of Ladybugs from the previous generations. The ones chosen by Tikki made their appearances in scrolls and parchments, paintings and runes. "And she's definitely not some five hundred year old magic user, since you just admitted you're seventeen like me."

Ladybug had to relent. "Hot."

Triumph shone in her eyes as she slammed a fist on her desk. "You're a collection of people across the globe! So do all you ladies take turns coming up with pickup lines for helpless gay girls?"

Ladybug covered her mouth with a palm, barely hiding a smile. It was true that even today, she might not perfectly align with the Ladybug Alya had met last week.

The power of the mask made her appearance vary wildly depending on who viewed her. It made sense; just a mask alone couldn't hide her identity for long. She'd seen multiple videos of the same event where her eyes were green, or her nose had a sharper curve. In one still image, Ladybug stared back at the lens with warm, chocolate eyes, and skin so dark it seemed to glow blue in the moonlight.

Despite that, Alya was mere centimeters from the truth. Close enough to touch, if either of them dared.

I'm the only current Ladybug, she wanted to say, but that would be breaking the rules. "Mmm... lukewarm."

Alya blinked. "You're the only one who flirts with me, then?"

"Yes." Hazel eyes glanced up at her, and she quickly corrected herself. "....Hot."

Alya smirked. The next folder she opened was a row of pictures.

She was unsettled to see a picture of Marinette among them, realizing this must be a list of possible Ladybug civilian identities. Ladybug was slightly pleased, however, to see more than a few boys on the list. Leave it to Alya to never discount any possibility.

"You do realize if I'm any of these people I'll deny it, right?"

Alya pouted. "Drat."

"I can't make it that easy for you." She got a distinct feeling of schadenfreude to see the folder on Cat Noir was much smaller. Alya wasn’t terribly interested in unmasking her partner, it seemed. "Poor Cat. He never has any luck with the girls."

"So you two aren't dating?"

Ladybug grimaced. "Cold! Ice cold! The heart of Antarctica." She couldn't help pouting a bit herself. "You'd think I'd two time you? Is there another girl I should be worried about?"

“I—I mean, Marinette— I mean, Ladybug!” she finished on an accusatory note, shouting her name as though that alone were a scolding.

Ladybug refused to take the hint. “Oooh? Who’s that?” she teased, just to get Alya to admit Marinette and Ladybug were two different people.

Instead of flirting back, as she expected, Alya stumbled all over her words. "I'm not— I would never—” she stammered. She wrung her hands out harder than Ladybug had seen her papa handle dough, twisting and crushing and trying valiantly to shape something new. "I thought at first it was just a game, then I thought maybe you were her, so I— I never meant to string you along, Ladybug, but I thought—"

Then she stopped.

Like a light had been shut off behind her eyes, Alya's face settled into an empty, sad shell.

This suddenly wasn’t fun anymore.

"I thought if Marinette were you I wouldn't have to choose."

Then Alya's eyes welled up with hopeless tears.

"That's terrible of me. Isn't it?"

Ladybug's heart rate spiked.

Shit.

“No!” Before she got too far gone, Ladybug comforted her. It was her first instinct. She touched her face, gently, wiping away a stray tear. “No, no, no. Of course not, cherie. I would never think less of you for something like that.”

Ladybug kissed her forehead.

By the jolt of recognition and confusion in Alya's face, she realized that to Alya, Ladybug's touch must feel as familiar as Marinette’s. She was just dousing a fire in gasoline, she knew, and Ladybug hated herself but not enough to pull away.

"I'm sorry," Alya said, fighting against this so hard she was shaking head to toe. "I'm so sorry. I dug so hard because I thought if I had the answer, she wouldn't have an excuse anymore. To avoid me, or lie to me— I know she lies to me— I thought if I proved myself it would be easier, but I just made everything worse, somehow."

She wiped at her face, inhaling sharply in shock.

"I'm really, really, sorry. I shouldn't be saying this. You shouldn't have to listen to me blubber about the girl I like."

"Please don't apologize." She dropped down to one knee in front of her, wanting to be on eye level for this. But then she fell to both knees, suddenly exhausted. Alya was still in her chair, so she grabbed her hips and drew her to the edge. She was warm, even through the palms of her gloves. Ladybug hugged her close, her head against Alya's chest. "I always want to hear what you have to say."

Alya's body went stiff at first, fear or anger or confusion, but then she held onto her tightly in return. She expected her to cry more, but the move seemed to have shocked her out of it. For the first time they were this close with no tension at all, no expectation, and Alya took advantage of it.

She ran her palm down Ladybug's back before bringing it up to the cusp of her neck, holding it firmly, like she wouldn't let go.

"I like you a lot, Alya," she said softly. The words came out easier than expected, but then again, words were always easy when she was Ladybug. This gentle touch, however? Being allowed to stand this close without fear? Being cradled in Alya's arms was like being blessed. "I do tease you. But my feelings are sincere."

“Why do you like me?” Alya wondered. “I’m nobody.”

Nobody?

You’re everything.

Without Alya there wouldn't even be a Ladybug. She was the first one to believe in her, the one cry for help that still rang in Marinette's ears to this very day. When she dove headfirst into danger, when she stretched herself to her limit, when she wondered why she was doing this— all she had to do was pause and remember Alya, crying out her name.

She helped every person with the same fervor she would give to the person who owned her heart. Every stranger was someone's mother, or child, or lover, or best friend. Even if she personally despised them, she could never pass judgement on them in their weakest moments.

Everyone deserved the same miracle Marinette received that day.

That was the pact she made, quietly, to no one but her own heart:

Let me save her. I'll do anything, anything at all.

And she did. She never gave up the mask once since then.

"I think you're the smartest person I've ever met," she said instead. Then, a little slyly: "And I like the way you look at me when we're alone."

The material of her suit could be stronger than steel, but more sensitive than skin at the same time. She felt Alya's temperature surge up, and she sighed happily, pressing her face against Alya's chest.

But Alya rested her hands on Ladybug's shoulders and gently pried her away.

"I'm sorry," she said, firmly this time.

She was tempted for sure, there was no denying it, but Alya steeled herself.

"But I don't feel the same way."

The rejection stung, but not as much as she expected. In a weird way, this was a victory for Marinette.

But when Alya reluctantly retreated, Ladybug did something she swore she would never do, that she was terrified of doing.

She held on tighter, hands locked around Alya's wrists. "Wait."

Alya twitched once, a struggle that Ladybug easily won. "What?"

Ladybug ran both thumbs over the insides of Alya's wrists, feeling the texture and wild race of her pulse points. "Just wait. Let me think."

Her careful plan crumbled to pieces.

"What do I have to do for you to love me the way you love her?" Ladybug asked, her grip tightening around Alya’s wrists.

Alya stood firm, despite her shock. "Nothing. I can't feel that way about someone whose name I don't even know."

"Hmm. I was afraid you'd say that."

You devious villain, she wanted to say, crack a joke, but she couldn't when suddenly she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she'd be sick. All those attempts to unmask me, and this was the way, all the along—

So she yanked Alya out of her seat, tumbling her down onto the floor with her. "L-Ladybug! What do you think you're—" Alya started, getting up to her knees with a scolding ready to be unleashed.

Except it died on her lips, because Ladybug pressed Alya's hands over the mask. They were close enough that their unyielding eye contact could be almost a threat. Ladybug didn't explain what she wanted her to do; she didn't have to. The implication was clear, as loud as Alya's shocked little gasp of awe.

Then and only then did Ladybug release her.

Alya's fingers curled around the mask. The last time she'd tried, as an actual villain, it had been stuck to her like a second skin. But Ladybug could relent. All it would take was a little pull.

"I can't," Alya said, a little panicky. "I didn't find out on my own! I didn't earn it."

"Oh? How interesting." She settled her hands around Alya's waist, pulling her in so they were chest to chest. "I thought this was my decision, not yours."

If there was anything she knew about Alya, it was that she couldn't back down from such an overt challenge. Still, she agonized over the decision, choosing instead to touch Ladybug's face for the very first time. Closing her eyes, Ladybug allowed it, trembling faintly when Alya's nails ran through her bangs, cupped her face, took hold of her chin.

And tilted her head back for a kiss.

It felt so good. Unhurried and cautious, with Alya completely in control of the pace and the angle. Nothing like the first time. Though in a sense, this was their first time, too.

She cracked one eyelid open when Alya withdrew, smiling at how Alya’s face was red as the dawn. "So you do like me."

"Of course I do," Alya muttered, more distressed than ever. But her hands were gentle when she fixed Ladybug's bangs back into place. "It's not my fault you throw me for a constant loop, Ladybug."

Inexorably, though, she returned to the mask. Ladybug could see how eager she was, could taste it in the air. "If I do this," Alya said, as if giving herself one last warning, "Everything will change. Everything will end."

"No, beautiful." Ladybug rested her palm over Alya's. "This is how we're going to start from scratch."

When Alya tugged, she willed the mask to free from her face, allowing it to peel away.

#alyanette #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #a signal boost would be greatly appreciated

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