#tha rookie angst

[newobsessionweekly]

To protect and to love

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The rookie

Summary: You unintentionally make Tim jealous, resulting with nothing good but a confession.

Action | Angst | Fluff

A/N: It's a long one I know. But I HAD to put some action and angst in it, i couldn't help it. Honestly I love it and I love to write about Tim. I hope you like it as much as I do. Have a wonderful day bubs and take care of yourselves. Lots of love

Warning: Mention of hurting, one "fucking" slipped somewhere in this, not proofread yet.

Requested: Yes Words: 4.4k GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The atmosphere in the bar was alive with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses as you settled in with your colleagues. It was one of the many nights you and the rookies met after a long shift. It was some bond between the four of you even since academy and it felt nice. They started to feel like a family to you.

As Nolan approached with three drinks in his hands, the fourth person occupied the chair beside you, making your mouth to open in surprise and your heart to race. Tim, looking so perfectly even out of his uniform, so casually in his clothes, wearing the same grumpy expression.

"Oh, sorry sir, didn't know you'd join us today." Nolan excused himself for ordering only three drinks.

"Yeah, didn't know I'd be here either." Tim murmured under his breath, giving you an acknowledging smile. After weeks of persuasions from both you and Lucy, he finally gave up.

"I'm glad you came." you told him as you turned to give him a smile. He did the same, but it wasn't a natural one.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This isn't really my scene." Tim admitted sharply, the wave of adrenaline and excitement that flowed over you, broke as soon as his grumpy expression appeared.

"So, Tim, what do you usually do after work?" Lucy asked, flashing him a mischievous grin.

Tim shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Usually just head home and catch up on some game I missed or hit the gym. Not really into the whole social scene."

"Come on, Tim, live a little!" Lucy chimed in, nudging him playfully. "You gotta let loose every once in a while."

You couldn't help but smile at the banter between your colleagues, grateful for the opportunity to spend time with them outside of the confines of work. But as you glanced over at Tim, you noticed a hint of tension in his behaviour, his jaw clenched slightly as he watched the scene unfold.

"So, Y/N, how's life as Tim's rookie treating you?" Nolan asked, turning to you with a grin.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It's definitely been an adventure. Tim keeps me on my toes, that's for sure."

Despite being his rookie for some time now, you had never spent much time with Tim outside of work. But tonight was different, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tim's gaze flickered to you, "If it's not a living hell, it means you have potential to become a good cop." you squinted at his words only for a few seconds before a sense of pride to wash over you as you smiled at him "But you're not there yet, so keep your head in the game."

Before the conversation could continue, you excused yourself to go buy another round of drinks. As you made your way to the bar, you felt the weight of several lingering gazes on your back, casting a subtle aura of discomfort. Some eyes stopped over your body as you asked the bartender for a refill, giving them one of the best views. Tim's eyes followed each glance, noting the subtle gestures and expressions of the onlookers. And he counted them one by one.

The handsome bartender took his time to do the refill, as his eyes examined you, flashing you a charming smile.

"Hey there, beautiful." his voice was low and seductive if you think about it, but it wasn't close enough to the one you actually found yourself drawn to. "What brings you here tonight?"

As Tim was left alone at the table with the rookies, he found it almost impossible to focus on their conversation, as his gaze kept drifting back to where you stood at the bar, engrossed in conversation with the bartender.

"Oh, just blowing off some steam after a long day at work." you responded politely and considered giving him a chance.

At this point, you couldn't shut people off for some feelings that are in vain anyway. You need to go back in the game if you didn't wanted to be a single 45 year old cop, redecorating your house on your own between shifts like Nolan. That wasn't nice, you scolded yourself for the thoughts.

"Sounds like you could use a drink then. Let me guess, you're a cop, right? You've got that look about you." the bartender asked with a grin as he wiped down the counter with a cloth.

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of jealousy coursing through him as he observed the subtle flirtation unfolding before his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, a sense of possessiveness clawing at his chest as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Tim, is everything okay?" Lucy's voice broke through his reverie, her concerned expression drawing his attention.

Tim forced a tight-lipped smile, his features taut with tension as he tried to mask his inner turmoil. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied curtly, though his tone betrayed his true feelings.

You chuckled at the bartender assumption, shaking your head "No, no. Nothing like that. I work for the city, but I surely don't have what it takes to be a cop." you admitted, drinks in your hand, lingering a little bit more.

"Ah, close enough though." he leaned over the counter, taking his chance to have a closer look at you. "Mark" he introduced himself with a friendly smile.

"Y/N" you responded politely, as you played his game, leaning in his direction.

"So, what do you say we grab a drink together sometime, Y/N ? I know a great place just around the corner." he proposed, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

Mark's easy charm and attentive conversation had left a positive impression on you, and you found yourself looking forward to meeting him.

But Lucy wasn't convinced by Tim's response, her brow furrowing with concern as she regarded him intently. "Are you sure? You seem a little...off," she persisted, her voice laced with concern.

Tim hesitated, torn between his desire to confide in Lucy and his instinct to keep his emotions guarded. "It's nothing, just...work stuff," he deflected, his tone clipped as he avoided her gaze.

Lucy nodded in understanding, didn't want to cross any boundaries, so she just let the subject drop. Anyone could see from afar that Tim was uncomfortable, little did anyone know he was feeling like that because you're not around.

Not even Tim knew why he couldn't take his eyes off of you or why he felt like his heart tightened with every laugh travelling to the table.

"Yeah, we could do that." you replied to Mark, considering his offer before hearing the unmistakable beat of footsteps you can't possibly erase from your mind.

Unable to stand by and watch any longer, Tim made his way over to you, determination etched on his face. "Hey, everything okay here?"

You glanced up, surprised to see Tim standing before you. "Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine. Just getting the drinks."

The handsome bartender eyed Tim warily, sensing the tension in the air. "Is this your boyfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the question, his gaze narrowing as he locked eyes with the stranger. "Something like that."

"Uh, Mark, this is Tim, my trainer from the job." you clarified, trying to make as bearable as possible the atmosphere shift.

Mark nodded in understanding, though a flicker of confusion crossed his features at Tim's abrupt attitude and he regarded your TO with a polite smile, extending a hand in greeting.

"Hey there, I'm Mark. Nice to meet you," he said, his tone friendly despite the underlying tension.

But Tim's response was anything but friendly. With a frustrated growl, he slammed his fist against the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "Excuse me," he muttered tersely before turning on his heel and storming out of the bar.

His fists were clenched with frustration and your heart sank with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. You watched him go, your mind reeling with unanswered questions and a deep sense of hurt.

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you tried to make sense of Tim's sudden outburst. Had you done something wrong? Was he angry with you? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

But beneath the confusion, a flicker of disappointment burned within you. You had hoped that tonight would be a chance for you and Tim to bond outside of work, to bridge the gap between you. But his sudden departure had shattered those hopes.

Tim's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jealousy burned hot within him, a primal instinct that had ignited the moment he saw another man hitting on you.

But beneath the jealousy, a deeper sense of frustration simmered. Frustration at himself for allowing his feelings for you to cloud his judgment, for letting his jealousy get the better of him. He knew he had no right to stake a claim on you, no right to feel possessive or territorial. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him whenever he saw you with another man.

As he made his way through the crowded streets, Tim's thoughts were consumed by visions of you and the handsome bartender, laughing and flirting as if he didn't exist. The image burned like a brand on his mind, fueling his anger and driving him further into the depths of despair.

Monday morning is usually a pain in the ass, but with the events that occurred last Friday at the bar, and Tim's attitude towards you, harsher and grumpier than usual, it was a morning out of the burning hell. Your heart was racing as he instructed you, curt and on point, on what will happen next.

May have been a few days since the incident at the bar, but the memory lingered in the back of your mind like a stubborn shadow. Despite your best efforts to push it aside, the tension between you and Tim was palpable, a silent undercurrent that simmered beneath the surface.

You knew that he was testing you, pushing you to your limits in an attempt to prepare you for the cop life, but beneath his tough exterior, you couldn't help but sense a hint of something else—something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy.

The morning sunlight bathed the patrol car's interior as you and Tim cruised through the LA streets, the radio's steady hum punctuating the silence between you.

Your usual chitchat about the rookie book is now replaced by a brooding silence, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. You stole a glance at him, noting the furrowed brow and the distant look in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the gulf that seemed to have grown between you.

The radio crackled to life, dispatch's voice cutting through the quiet."7-Adam-19, we have a noise complaint at 123 Oak Street. Caller reports a disturbance in one of the apartments. Please respond."

Tim glanced at you, and you tried to read something in his eyes as he keyed the mic. "Copy that. We're en route."

There was nothing to be seen in his eyes, but you took your time to admire him in silence, your mind playing all the memories since you became his rookie, couldn't stop the thought that maybe the flicker that burned inside every time you touched his arm by mistake, every time he smiled at you, every time he made you smile, was indeed something. You always tend to question your feelings, rather they're justified or in vain, and this one was surely in vain.

There's no way a man like him, so put together, so ambitious — so handsome— would have even the thought of liking a rookie, you thought. You considered this whole situation too stupid, probably every single woman that comes past Tim fall in love with him.

As you pulled up to the apartment complex, the sounds of raised voices and slamming doors greeted you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"This could get messy," you muttered, your voice tense with apprehension.

"And we're prepared for this kind of situations. But if you don't feel like it, you can give up the badge." his voice is harsh and his expression is far from nice.

"That's not what I meant." you mouthed under your breath and followed Tim into the building.

As you reached the door of the apartment in question, you exchanged a wary glance with Tim before knocking firmly. The door swung open to reveal a chaotic scene inside, a group of men engaged in a heated argument that showed no signs of abating.

"LAPD! Hands where I can see them!" your voice cut through the chaos like a knife, but if anything, it only seemed to stoke the flames.

In an instant, the situation erupted into chaos, with shouts and curses filling the air as fists flew and bodies collided. You and Tim sprang into action, replaying in your mind everything you learned from the academy and your TO. But just as you thought you had gained the upper hand, the situation took a sudden turn for the worse. A shout rang out from the far end of the room, followed by the sound of shattering glass as a fight broke out between two of them.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you and Tim moved swiftly to intervene, but the situation quickly spiraled out of control. Amidst the chaos, you found yourself grappling with one of them, seven feet tall man and muscular construction, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to maintain control.

Tim knew not to mess up his personal life and his professional one, he did it once and didn't end well. He weighed his decision over and over again, continuously adding pros and cons to the equation. It was safe for you to deal with this kind of men? Probably not, but if he would go soft on you and pick an easy target it would mean he let his feelings step out and fail you as your TO.

All Tim could do in this situation was to have your back no matter what and make sure you get home safe to meet with that stupid bartender. That thought run fast like the wind and bought back your laughter from that night hunting him once more. The lovely eyes you gave that man and the smile so bright, a smile he saw for the first time.

Your focus narrowed on subduing the individual before they could inflict harm. In the heat of the moment, you failed to notice another figure advancing towards you from the side.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck your side, sending a jolt of pain radiating through your body. Gasping, you stumbled backward, momentarily disoriented as the room spun around you.

"Y/L/N!" Tim's voice cut through the haze of pain, his tone laced with concern as he rushed to your side. "You okay?"

Grimacing, you nodded weakly, trying to push through the pain as adrenaline surged through your veins. But with each breath, the pain in your side seemed to intensify, a constant reminder of the mistake you had made in letting your guard down.

Tim's grip tightened on your arm, his eyes scanning you for signs of injury as he assessed the situation. "Officer down," he said firmly into his radio, his voice tinged with urgency "Send backup and R/A."

Despite the pain coursing through your body, you forced yourself to focus, pushing aside the fear and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm you. With Tim's support, you managed to regain your footing, the determination in his eyes giving you the strength to move on.

When one of them hurt you, the rest managed to move the circus outside the building, now armed and pointing the guns to their heads. You handcuffed your attacker and Tim dealt with the one stuck under you in the ambush. As you pushed the man down to the car with trembling feet, barely holding steady, you heard sirens cut through the air, signaling the arrival of backup. With a sense of relief washing over you, you spared a quick glance toward the parking lot, where a team of officers rushed between the men, their presence a welcome sight amidst the chaos.

"LAPD! Drop your weapon!" Nolan began, approaching the chaos as their eyes counted the police officers surrounding them. "Hands where I can see them, on the ground, face down!" he demanded as you and Tim put the suspects in the backseat of the car. "Spread your arms and legs!"

As the men followed Nolan's instructions, you tried to join your colleagues and handcuff the suspects, but Tim's hand stopped you in place. "Go sit down. You did enough." he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Despite the urgency of the situation, there was a steely resolve in his eyes as he focused on ensuring your safety above all else. Feeling a surge of frustration welling up inside you, you opened your mouth to protest, but Tim's stern gaze silenced you before you could speak. With a heavy heart, you complied with his orders, a paramedic guiding you to the ambulance for a search.

The sound of Tim's voice rang out through the chaos, his words echoing in your mind as he barked orders to his fellow officers. But amidst the chaos and confusion, it was clear that Tim's focus was solely on the task at hand, his attention unwavering as he worked to bring the situation under control. And as you watched from the sidelines, a sense of hurt and disappointment washed over you, the sting of Tim's words cutting deep as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

With the suspects now securely restrained, Tim turned his attention back to you, his expression tight with frustration as he approached. "What were you thinking, officer Y/L/N?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he confronted you.

Caught off guard by his harsh tone, you felt a lump form in your throat as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "I...I didn't see them, sir," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Tim's gaze.

But Tim's expression remained unforgiving, his frustration palpable as he glared down at you. "You could have gotten yourself killed out there," he snapped, his words biting as he chastised you for your reckless actions.

As Tim guided you back to the patrol car and began the journey back to the station, the air between you was heavy with tension. There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly, punctuated only by the sound of the radio crackling with dispatch updates.

As Tim sat behind the wheel, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within him. He couldn't shake the sense of shame that gnawed at him, a bitter reminder of how his feelings for you had clouded his judgment during the call.

Seeing you hurt had unleashed a torrent of emotions within him, overriding his instincts as a cop and blinding him to the dangers that still lurked nearby. In that moment, all he could think about was protecting you, shielding you from harm at any cost.

But in his haste to ensure your safety, he had let his guard down, allowing the suspects to slip through his fingers and jeopardizing the success of the mission. The weight of his mistake bore down on him like a crushing weight, a stark reminder of the consequences of letting his personal feelings interfere with his professional duties.

As he drove back to the station, the silence in the car was suffocating, amplifying the cacophony of thoughts that raged within his mind. He couldn't shake the sense of disappointment that gripped him, a bitter reminder of how he had let you down when you needed him most. When you needed him to be your role model, the person you should've learned from.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at you, the weight of Tim's disappointment hanging heavily in the air. With each passing moment, the silence grew more oppressive, suffocating you with its intensity.

Glancing over at Tim, you feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. His usually expressive eyes were now unreadable, a mask of frustration and disappointment that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you wrestled with your own feelings of guilt and self-doubt, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Tim's silent treatment spoke volumes, a clear indication of his disapproval of your actions during the call.

Despite your best efforts to break the silence, Tim remained resolutely silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. "Tim, are you okay?" you insisted. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if lost in thought.

"I'm fine, officer Y/L/N." he muttered tersely, his voice clipped and devoid of emotion. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the furrowed brow that betrayed the turmoil that raged within him.

You weren't about to let him brush you off that easily. "No, you're not," you insisted, your voice tinged with concern. "Something's bothering you, Tim. I can tell."

He shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his tone sharp and biting. But you could see the pain that flickered behind his eyes, a vulnerability that he tried so desperately to hide.

"Tim, please," you pressed, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

For a moment, Tim seemed to waver, his defenses crumbling under the weight of your words. But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he withdrew from your touch, his expression hardening once more.

"I don't need your pity, Y/N," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "I can handle this on my own."

But you refused to back down, refusing to let him push you away. "This isn't about pity, Tim," you countered, your voice steady and unwavering. "I care about you, and I want to help. But you have to let me in."

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of emotion bubbling to the surface as he struggled to contain his feelings. "I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me I fucking tried," he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

The admission hung heavy in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered glimpse into the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you could see the pain and anguish that swirled within them, a reflection of your own inner turmoil.

"I need to know that you're safe. Because I care about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. "I kind of like you. And I lost control today because you got hurt. And I lost it too at the bar because you were flirting with that good of nothing. "

The words hung in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the truth that lay beneath the surface. And as you stood there, locked in a moment of raw honesty, you knew that your relationship with Tim would never be the same again.

The weight of his confession hung between you like a heavy fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise quiet interior of the car.

You glanced over at Tim, his expression guarded and unreadable as he focused on the road ahead. The air was heavy with emotion, a silent barrier that seemed to stretch on for miles.

"Tim, I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But Tim cut you off before you could finish, his tone sharp and dismissive.

"I don't want to talk about it, Y/N," he snapped, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. "Just forget I said anything."

But you couldn't let it go that easily, couldn't let him push you away when all you wanted was to be there for him. "Tim, please," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "I need you to understand that I feel the same way."

His eyes flickering with uncertainty as he glanced over at you. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I mean what I said." taking a deep breath, you summoned all of your courage, pushing aside your fears and doubts as you spoke "I have feelings for you, ok? But I tried to push them away because I didn't want to complicate things. But after you told me..."

Tim's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he processed your words. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable chasm.

Then, finally, Tim let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "I don't know what to say, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation "Things are complicated now, for sure." he chuckled, smiling at you as he parked the car.

"You and me, dinner. Tonight." you demanded, trying to play it off like nothing happened. "We talk about it like grownups."

"It's a date, then." he nodded in agreement, forcing his lips to form a straight line, to hide his dumb smile. "I-I.. I mean if you want to." he stumbled upon his words, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Yes, Tim. I'd love that." you smiled at him as you both took the men from the backseat and guided them through the corridor of the station.

"Tim and Y/N sitting in a tree—" one of the men started mocking the scene they witnessed, but you and Tim cut him off

"Shut up."

[under-the-dirt]

Hello!!! Could i get Price x reader who ends up falling him but ends up ignoring him couse they to fall in love kind of thing but then he confronted them eventully.

sorry i didn’t answer this earlier!! i started it and then it deleted the draft :[ but anyways, i love this req ty nonnie!!

pairing: john price x gn!reader

tags: a lil angst but not really, somehow i managed gn!reader w a lil smut, implied masturbation, uhhhh lmk if i missed anything cuz i probably UNDER 13 DNI RAH

Avoiding the captain was hard. He was just about everywhere you went, regardless. Wether it be the gym, common room, kitchen, anywhere you went, he seemed to be there.

It’s not that you were desperate to avoid him, it’s just that you couldn’t help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach every time you saw him, or the blush that dusted your cheeks when he talked to you, calling you love or sweetheart, all lighthearted but god, so, so sexy.

You’d been avoiding him for weeks now, and you’ve noticed he’s begun to seem almost.. annoyed. Easier to rile up, blowing up at rookies, etc. You hoped you weren’t the cause.

It all came to a head on your recon mission, you’d been paired up with the captain and it seemed normal, up until he pulled you into an alley and pinned you to the wall, ensuring both your comms were off before he began.

“You go’ a reason fer avoidin’ me, yeah?” He questions, sliding his knee between your legs to keep you up and unable to move and squirm.

“N-no sir.” You respond, gathering yourself from the surprise of his sudden actions before he pushed closer, lips right by your ear.

“You sure, sergeant?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then why am I seein’ ya run away like a little school girl with a crush? Hm? Don’t think I ‘ear your pretty little moans late a’ night when you think I ain’t listening? Think I don’t ‘ear ya calling my name?” He purrs gruffly into your ear, pressing his chest to yours, moving his knee up further to rub against that spot between your legs.

“S-sir-“

“Don’ wanna ‘ear it, sergeant.” He growls, moving his knee back and forth between your legs, pulling a muffled whimper from your lips. “Ah, so thas’ why? There’s my answer right there, lovely.” He coos, chuckling before pulling away.

“Captain we can’t-“

“Wha’ did I say? Now, my office, 1900 tonight, understood, sergeant?” He asks, and you nod. “Words, sergeant.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.”

ok this was fun to write. btw, i’m wanting to start a big series, but i have no idea what it’ll be. probably ghoap x reader, price x reader or tf141 x reader. which might b difficult cuz i’m not the best at writing gaz but wtv lmao if y’all have any tips please lmk!! also, i’d prob make an autistic coded!reader bc i’m autistic so it’d be hard not to bc i’m not sure what it’s like to be ‘normal’ on a psychological standard, so the reader would be accidentally autistic because i tend to make the reader kinda like me. but, any big series ideas please give them!!!! i want to write longer and better!

[ifimdreaming]

request for luke hughes! i go to ohio state and in from NJ so kind if inspired by that haha. i like the idea of her best friend going to michigan/dating a former teammate of lukes so thats how luke and reader meet! i love angst and given that its lukes rookie year/she goes to college in another state, maybe they could be friends w benefits but both have strong feelings.

i also weirdly feel like luke wouldnt tell jack much abt a girl he rlly liked to keep it to himself but u dont have to include that haha

thank you!

i hope you enjoy! it is a bit different than requested but i hope you like it anyway xx

[dameronology]

the only person (javier pena)

summary: breaking up when you're still in love sucks (part of the right person, wrong time collection)

warnings: angst, sadness, my terrible spanish

enjoy and also sorry

- jazz xx

"Despierta, querido."

The sound of Javier's gravelly morning voice pulled you from your sleep.

It was 6AM on a Tuesday - far too early to be up. Even more so to be packing up your shit and hauling ass to the airport. You'd barely slept at all, having only drifted off to sleep an hour ago. Your brain had been plagued with anxiety all night - at saying goodbye, at leaving the familiar, at leaving Javier - until you'd been so exhausted til you had no choice but to sleep. It was funny in a way, because until that point, his bedroom had been your safe space. Four walls that contained nothing but clutter, crap, you and him. Your anxiety had never manifested under his ridiculously scratchy cotton sheets, nor had your worries invaded the cracked, beige walls or cold, tile floors. The air was always sweet with your unspoken feelings, tinged with the scents of tobacco and his expensive-as-fuck aftershave.

And now you had to leave. For fucking Florida.

The decision hadn't been easy. In fact, it had plagued you for weeks and weeks - a promotion, overseas back with Uncle Sam, heading up an entire DEA Office. It was the job you'd longed for, even as a kid, even back before you were a rookie. Very few people got the opportunity and maybe that was why you couldn't think of a logical reason to turn it down.

Now, with Javier's large hands tracing your back, soft lips pressed to the nape of your neck, you could think of a thousand. You wanted to cling onto him forever, in nothing but a haze of cigarette smoke and the ecstasy of him. Maybe the job wasn't what you wanted, even less what you needed. So what if it was all you wanted since you were sixteen years old? You'd grown since then. You'd changed. You'd learn things. Sometimes it felt like you hadn't known anything til you'd met Javi.

"Not yet," you murmured.

"Your flight leaves in three hours," Javi murmured, breathing tickling the back of your neck. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you close towards him. "It's kind of important-"

"- no, it's not," you cut him off, trying to mask the tired groan in your voice.

You'd spoken about making it work. Multiple times. And every one of those conversations had lasted for hours.

Relationships in your line of work was hard. Even more so when you both in the same profession. There were times where it was hard enough to keep your relationship alive when you were in the same room, let alone different fucking countries. Javier was so unavailable - emotionally, physically, mentally - that he needed you right next to him. And that was just at the best of times.

It would never work long-distance. The thought alone was exhausting.

"Baby," Javier faltered for a second. "I don't want to do this any more than you do."

"So let's not do it then," you murmured, nose brushing against his. "I'll stay here. I'll call the new office and I'll just...I'll call it off. No-one has to leave or go anywhere. I'll just stay right here and nothing will change."

He let out a low chuckle, though it didn't feel genuine. "I want that more than anything in the world but that's not how it works."

"Then we'll make it be how it works-"

"- your Visa runs out today," he reminded you, "and they've already hired someone to fill your place here."

"It's like you're not even trying to support my delusions of grandeur, Jav," you huffed.

"C'mon," he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Get dressed. I'll make breakfast."

Javier had always been good at avoiding important conversations. He'd done it for the first few months of your relationship and he was doing it now. This was just as difficult for him as it was for you, but he was better at pretending like it wasn't happening. You knew him, and you knew he wanted to let you go and grieve for your relationship on his own terms, in his own time. That was why he was being so devoid of emotion now. He just wanted to enjoy what little time you had left together.

You scowled and rolled out of bed. Wrapping the sheets around your torso, you hurried after Javier as he went into the kitchen.

"Jav, I'm serious," you called. "Why aren't you...why aren't you more..."

He turned to face you. "Why aren't I more what?"

"I don't know!" you flailed your hands in the air. "Sad? Angry? Just...something more than being fucking normal, Javier!"

"I am sad," he replied, though his voice was deadpan. "And I am angry."

"You're not fucking acting like it," you sniffed.

"You know I'm not good with this stuff," he shot back. "But if you really wanna know? I've never been hurting more than I am right now. I feel like I'm losing the most important person in my life-"

"- you don't have to lose me!" you cut him off again. "We can work it out, can't we?"

Javier sighed, mouth twitching for a moment. He was frozen, unsure of what to say. You were right. He knew you were right. With the right amount of effort, things might be able to work, but that was just it: it was a might. A maybe. A possibility but not a guarantee. And running the risk of letting things go bad rather than ending on your own terms just wasn't something he could.

"We've spoken about this," he said, "and honey, I can't let myself try."

"Why not?" you didn't mean for your voice to break.

"Because what if we end up hating each other?" Javi pushed. "What if we can't make it work?"

"I could never hate you," you murmured, reaching out a hand.

Truth was, you had hated Javier a little bit when he'd told you he wanted to break up. Even though you knew he was right, and even though you knew it was for the best, some silly part of you had so desperately wanted to hold on.

"Can we please just have a nice morning?" he quietly asked. "It'll make it easier to say goodbye."

You tangled your fingers with his and pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his waist. Your bodies collided with a soft thud, filling the painful silence in the kitchen.

"Yeah," your voice was muffled, head pressed into his chest. "Of course. I'm sorry."

--

The rest of the morning was as normal as it could be.

You ate together and drank coffee together - the conversation wasn't as present as normal, nor was that feeling of domestic bliss. Everything you and said did, from sitting in the kitchen to loading your stuff into his Jeep, was tainted by the overcast of knowing. Knowing that this was it.

Javier was silent as you drove to the airport; it was only a short journey but he spent the entirety of it with one hand on your thigh, the other white-knuckled on the steering wheel. There was barely any traffic out because of how early it was, but part of you wished it was rush hour. At least then you'd have longer together in the car.

You hopped out the car at the airport, dragging your suitcase behind you as you crossed the lot. Javi trailed behind you, hands resting in his back pockets and early morning sun glinting off of his Aviators. He was trying to be suave as always - calm, at the minimum - but inside, it felt like he was drowning. Heart racing and throat dry, faced with the fact that most of what was about to happen had been his choice.

Part of him had always hoped that you were going to fight back: beg him to make it work, or at least for him to come with you. And except from your brief imploring earlier in the kitchen, you hadn't. His heart had broken a little at that. If only he hadn't had so much pride. If only his ego hadn't stopped him from begging you. He'd get on his hands and knees now if it meant you would stay.

"I can't come through customs with you," Javier grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "not without a ticket."

You gave him a soft smile. "So buy a ticket then."

Yeah, that thought had played on his mind constantly over the last few weeks.

It was the feeling of knowing: knowing that if there wasn't something to rip you away, this would have been it for both of you. You hadn't been together long enough to talk about marriage or kids but if it was gonna happen with anyone, it would have been you.

"You know I would if I could," he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You glanced up at the flight departures behind you, letting out a sigh. "I should get going."

"Mmm," he hummed. "So this is it?"

"Don't..." you trailed off. "Don't act like this is goodbye, Jav."

"It kinda feels like it is."

"But if we pretend it isn't, maybe it won't be."

Javier's hands found their way to your hips, pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips onto yours - you'd shared passionate kisses before, but this particular one was laced with more emotion than he'd ever shown. You were going to cling onto that for a long time.

"I love you," you murmured, resting your forehead.

"I love you too."

You pulled back from him, not fully turning away until you absolutely had to.

Javier was going to leave that airport a single man - not that it mattered. It wasn't a case of being the right person at the wrong time. Not when you were the only person.

[chiimmchiimm]

❝𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 !¡ 𝒻𝒾𝓋𝑒 ❞

CHAPTERS “  01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 -  11  - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 “  

The northern jail was the most dangerous in the country, social scum, thousands of criminals were locked behind their bars. Who would tell poor Blair that he would end up there because of his father’s mistake. The problem was not the lack of hot water, but that inhuman obsession that many of the prisoners had for “new toys.” Rookies had two options; be submissive and abide by veterans’ orders or suffer the dangerous anger of those disturbed minds. It all started one night when Blair had the bad idea of ​​going to shower alone.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookoffender au x (female: Blair) 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒:  smut.(later), offender au, fluff, angst. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 3 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔:  +18   𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔:   abuse ,very violence, , sadness, psychological abuse, dirty lenjuage, muscles, oral innuendo, insults. 

𝓥𝓸𝓬𝓪𝓫𝓾𝓵𝓪𝓻𝔂:    hyeongje❥ brother || gongjunim❥princess. 

"How did you get here? There are supposed to be security cameras." I ask as I slowly get out of bed. I clench my lips when I am aware that my tone has sounded too aggressive for your taste as it hardens the cheekbones. However, he doesn't stop smiling when he sees that I leave the cell. Taking a quick look at Dallas, she crossed my arms to counteract the cold in the hallway.

"Let's say I have friends everywhere, gongjunim." I answer putting my hands inside the pockets of his baggy pants. The rhythm of my breathing took a decent course when I perceived tranquility in its movements. However, the dark glow of his eyes prevented my body from leaving its alertness apart. You never know what can happen and less with it. Then, I disturb my resting state with a soft but serious whisper. "Come, come on." We need to talk.

Do not go with him.

"It's late." I say, controlling my trembling with my hands. But my excuse does not seem to be enough because he stops supporting his body on the wall and straightens slowly.

“When have I asked for your opinion?” The calm and passive tone that had characterized his attitude in the previous two minutes had been replaced by a much more demanding one. I swallow the choking lump in my throat and lift my chin to look him in the eye. But since it is night and the bangs cover half of his face, I only find his dark reflection. His sigh takes me out of the gradual trance in which I had immersed myself. "Go ahead."

Remember what he did to Julia, shit.

"I said." I respond with too much force, but as my voice pierces my lips, the willpower decreases in line with his insightful toothy smile. "Tha-at is lat-e."

"Barbie, fuck. Don't force me to misbehave with you. Really, I don't like it." I translate in the curve of her smile that the patience she has is about to run out. He looks at me expectantly, knowing that his threat has paid off. And I swear to see the shadow of a smile when I start to walk down the hall. As we go down the stairs and listen to his metal footsteps behind me, I unconsciously bring my hands to my throat and close my eyes. If he hanged me that way again, I was sure he would break my neck. I'm afraid to turn my head and look at him. I fear his reaction and his explosive character that is terribly unpredictable. I am surprised on a large scale when I see that the doors of my module are disconnected. And as he says nothing I follow my path.

When he crossed the threshold of module three, his hand clings possessively to my forearm and turns me sharply.

"I'm going to ask you a question and you better be honest, fuck, because patience has run out." It was clear that silence had given rise to his madness so that his good attitude was destroyed. My eyes widened when his breath fell directly to my mouth. I kept my breath in line with the facial paralysis I felt when I stood up with his arm to face him. I nodded through a hurried neck movement. Then he wrinkled his nose for a few seconds before exhaling in my direction. "What did you say to Garcia?"

My eyes widen.

"Nothing." I answer hurriedly.

“Don't lie to me!” He growls, in the middle of a deafening scream that echoes in the great hall. Pressing my dazed eyes the water runs through my cheeks in the form of tears. He sticks his mouth to my cheek and while he breathes his teeth are stuck in the skin when he takes off his lips to keep talking. "Do you want me to mark you so you learn that I don't lie to myself?"

God, no.

“I swear it's true!” I defend myself half screaming, causing him to separate a little from the impression. I hear a grunt growl when he bites his lower lip in a nervous act. When his saliva wets my area near my ear, I shiver with fear. Then, taking quick sips of air, I keep talking between choppy hiccups. "I haven't said anything about you." I swear. It has approached me and I fled as soon as I could, you have seen it. Afterwards, he followed me because I had dropped a hole, but as soon as he returned it, I fled there. Please, thirteen. I swear..."

"I know you haven't said anything." He accepts, with a calm look. My eyes that had closed before when I was reciting what happened with Garcia, burst open when he stroked my head with his palm. As if I were his pet and he the owner trying to reassure him. But as strange as the situation may seem, I prefer its serene state a thousand times than its aggressive attitude. Take the second action to resume your dialogue by crossing a whisper with a growl. "You will never betray me, don't you?"

I denied.

"That is my maid." My helpful and sweet maid. ”She sighed, removing the hair that was within reach of her breathing. As his hand went down the surface of my back my body was curled to avoid contact but all I could do was stick to a compacted chest of muscles. I finished the tour in the lower part of my back, choosing to massage the area with pasimonia. I had to catch my lower lip to stop shaking. With the contained breath, saliva soundly enters. The heat was concentrated in the area that touched his great hand, and far from pleasing his caresses the repulsion soon appeared. How the hell had he come to this? At what moment did I stop respecting myself and consented that men like him put my hand on me? The pity that I felt for me trapped body vanished in pure contained rage.

“Can I go now?” I said through an involuntary blink. However, his grave laughter pierced my entire spine when it landed on the shell of my ear. I made a fist with my left hand to contain the blow that my head shouted that I should give. He couldn't stand his hot breath. I was so nauseous to know that one of his hands was touching me. When one of your fingers caresses my cheek it attracts the attention of my aggrieved look. I watch carefully as his finger traveled through the exposed skin of my face, as I recorded on his retina the proportions of my features contracted by the confusion. He marked in his eyes such seriousness that far from appearing charming, I was scared of his way of looking at me. And turning away the fact that his intimidating posture left me speechless, if I had to admit that his eyes were too attractive and that if it were not the case, and I wasn't in this situation, I would even take the prelude to admire like the dark orbs of his eyes mixed talentedly with the brown iris.

"On your knees." He stroked my cheek with his lower lip when I exhaled those words that made my eyes expand in fear. Suddenly, the hand that burned my back rose to one of my shoulders to push my body down. Puzzled by the situation I did what he wanted and when my knees touched the cold ground, I heard a pleasant sigh from him. The hand that had previously mapped my face caught in my hair, and then, I raised my head to look at it from the new position. If before it looked intimidating now that feeling had multiplied triple. My eyes followed the movement of his tongue by wetting his lower lip. I was enjoying the situation. "Now what should I do with you?"

But my eyes lowered on their own to the ground when I couldn't handle their gaze.

"Answer me."

His hand enclosed the tangle of hair that I caught shaking my head so that it will react.

"Let me go." I gasped.

"I should make you suck my cock so you learn that I am answered when I ask a question." I waved, leaning forward and embedding her fingers in my battered hair. I shake my head from side to side causing my neck to creak at the abruptness of the movement. I closed my eyes but the tears came out by themselves. With too much force he stamped my cheek on his thigh and I gasped in fright. And as if it were the stimulus I needed to wake up from my real nightmare, I took my fists off the ground to hit his legs and let him go. Enough humiliations. If he had a limit, mine had already crossed it. With a frown he grabbed my arm and stood up abruptly.

"Leave me alone!" He shouts against his frowning features. Taking out the inner strength he had hidden since the time in the bathroom. My attitude change seemed to surprise him. He tilted his head and grabbed the bridge of his nose as he held me with his other hand. Then, when I purse my lips and growl I deduce what will happen. He threw me against the wall but this time, when his hands threatened to fit around my neck, I reacted as quickly as I could and tilted his face with a direct blow to his cheek. I immediately covered my mouth impressed by my courage. Thirteen crushed the red zone with his palm and turned to me with his bloodshot.

Then, I reached down to go under his arm and run away, but his hand had already taken me by the arm.

"Loose..."

But before I could process what I was about to say, Thirteen threw my body to the ground. My palms cushioned the fall preventing my chin from hitting the edge of the corner. I turned silently towards him. Thirteen raised his right leg and when I closed my eyes waiting for his kick, it never came. As if some humanity will cross his thoughts, he left his leg on the ground again. However, he bent down to form a hairy knot in my hair that stood out from his knuckles.

"You're lucky I need you whole, bitch bitch." But wait for me to wear you because I swear that from so long that I am going to mark you with my razor you will want to be dead. ”That said, he released my head sharply and then continued on his way. I sucked the drool that had been hanging while I was on my knees. Straighten my alarmed neck when it stopped in the middle of the darkness. I clench my fists intensifying the dilation of the veins in his arms. Then, he turned on his heel and stared at me scorchingly from his place. "You don't know how much I hate you. Whore bitch."

That you hate me?

There is no person in this world who has more contempt and disgust than I. Always consider me a conscious person. I never hated anyone so strongly, not even my father who was psychologically abusing me years ago. How could a person like him exist? Bitterness embraced his actions as if he would not care about anything in this life, as if the only thing that interested him is to do the maximum possible damage. But I had already locked myself in this situation. I would avoid him until he persisted and got bored of looking for me. Because I am sure that this is what I am for him, a distraction, a new toy to throw when stress overwhelms his ability to cope with situations.

The turn in the library became increasingly tedious. The books seemed not to end and so much title was starting to hurt my head. Better not talk about the amount of dust on top of each shelf. It seemed as if they had never been cleaned. I squeezed my fingers on the lateral parts of my forehead as soon as the vertigo became present due to lack of sleep. Because in effect, he hadn't slept all night. And again, dark circles adorned the great part of my face.

The sound of something rushing makes me scream startled.

"Blair, girl." Can you go for the broom? "

Blink stunned when I see that Mrs. Smith has thrown the green vase that was decorated on her desk to the floor. I sigh awkwardly when I see her blush. I dwarf a smile before nodding.

"At the end of the hall is a closet."

I follow his instructions to the letter and as soon as I get to the end of the corridor I find a gray door with the cleaning sign. When I pick up the crank I remove my hand from the sticky touch that wets my palm. I growl as I shake my disgusted hand. As soon as my senses perceive the sound of the patio door opening, I look towards its direction. My eyes widen when I see Thirteen and his two friends walk towards my direction. Forgetting the texture of the crank, I take it and quickly get into the cleaning closet. I stick my back to the door while my chest rises and falls due to overstumulation.

“Hey you!” I hear a distant scream that leaves me stony. I hold my breath. “Did you think we weren't going to find you, son of a bitch?” His scream is much more recorded. And I'm imagining how he hits his fists in a sign of threat. His voice is high, so I can not identify which of the two is, and I assumed it was the blond because I hear another scream and I recognize the slow voice of the tall brown with a square smile.

"Take it, take it!"

The squeak of sneakers creeping against the floor is heard in the background. Hasty steps and suddenly, a painful scream. I hold a gasp with the palm of my hand. Swallow saliva I turn my head towards the door and slowly open it. You don't have to take your head out because the scene is depicted right next to the door. I extend my eyes to the fullest when I see that the blond boy rests a bat on his shoulder. The brunette smiles as he touches his foot in the stomach. The poor boy is in a fetal position, lying on the ground and groaning while drowning in his own saliva. On the other hand, I see that Thirteen is leaning against the opposite wall with the vein overflowing with its dilated neck to the point of pain. He's upset, and I can't understand why he hasn't had his stomach rebeated with a baseball bat. Rest your hands in the pockets of your pants while crossing your stretched legs. Biting her inner cheek, she peels off the wall and approaches her friends. Subsequently, he leans toward the poor boy with his thumb touching the ground for support.

"I warned you, fuck. If you didn't give me my money back, I was going to break your head."

Separating a little from the wounded, he takes a look at the blond and he pulls the bat from his shoulder, places it in his palm and starts hitting it in short periods of time. When, Thirteen nods, the blond lifts the bat.

“You'll have your money, I swear!” He shouts, running over his words with his own tongue. Dropping the saliva that flows from the inside of his mouth down the corner of his lips. Thirteen wrinkles disgusted features. My fingers clung to the metal of the lock. The best option was to close the door and refrain from intervening, but the terrified look of that boy blocked my body and soon entered into an argument with my courage and sense of survival. It seems that it hosts an important period of time for Thirteen to decide to react, but it only happens with an intense look and a brief frown. His carefree attitude alarms his two friends. Actually, he seemed to abstain from the world, as if the silent screams emitted by the poor man were indifferent. It was as if something much more important would occupy all his attention and saturate his reasoning quickly. His visual attention had fallen to the ground and seemed attractive enough to detach himself from his surroundings.

Then, the blond lowers the bat hitting the tip against the ground and tilts his head towards Thirteen.

"Jungkook." The name spreads softly under her fluffy lips. Together the eyebrows confused when I am a spectator of how Thirteen seems to react to that strange name. Then, look at the blond feverishly. He hits his inner cheek with his tongue and tenses up. Does it mean so much for him to be called by his real name? It seems that his isolation has disagreed with a soft fury that does not know how to control. He simply looks at his friend, nothing more. What will happen to him? He is so distracted that his other friend, the tall brown man with a square smile, seems to be alarmed as well. The blond rests the bat on his shoulder while raising his eyebrows carefree. Then he returns to his threatening tone. "You decide, hyeongje."

As if that word had promoted an early reaction, Thirteen ducks again to observe closely how nervous the boy is. I squeeze the crank so hard that sweat already nests under my palm. Thirteen is touched with a finger the nose before inspiring strongly as desestrexante gesture. He seems to think about it very well, but after all, the smile he shows the boy is the answer his friends need for; that one plays with the bat and the other hits the fist against his palm.

"Take your teeth off, son of ..."

I lean so hard on the crank that it gives in when the friction is too wet and I fall flat on the ground. Grumpy in pain, without hardly being aware that I have fallen right next to them.And yet, the only thing I can be firmly aware of when I stabilize my head is dark eyes that glowed with mischief and a crooked smile that indicated one thing: problems.

                                                             ✞

 NEXT

[kwa-mii]

Confessions / Reveal

YOU KNOW I’ve done two vaguely LadyNoir fics for this week already but 1) that’s never enough and 2) has Marinette suffered enough? I think not

Also this is a TOTALLY different side of that love square so

Honestly I don’t see how the final reveal or some kind of communication within the love square couldn’t be super sweet and saccharine, but if anyone would react badly to anything I think it would be Marinette. And hey! it’s fun to write bad reactions so herrreeeee we go

Confessions / Reveal - a Ladrien / Adrinette angst fic (1837 words)

Ms Mendeleiv didn't allow talking in her class, so the principal method of communcation was passing notes. Alya, for one, preferred scrawling over Marinette's classwork until it was no longer fit for marking. However, if she needed Adrien or Nino, she'd tear out a page and pass a note forwards; keeping it old school.

Marinette could see that Adrien and Nino had a similar system, but exercised in a much neater and more covert system since they were right at the front of the class. They used barricades of pencil cases, slipped messages seamlessly into the margins of their work, and other tricks that were contrived and obvious, yet pulled off seamlessly. Seamlessly enough, in fact, that usually neither Marinette or Alya could read over their shoulders.

Watching the passing of notes in front of her often distracted Marinette from class, ridiculous as that was. If she could scry /any/ information about Adrien, she didn't see the problem. Well... the problem was that she was obsessed, but she didn't need her strange behaviours to tell her that.

Nino wrote something on the corner of his notebook and angled it slightly for Adrien to read. He blushed in response, and hesitantly scrawled a big, visible 'Yes'. Marinette wondered about the meaning of that blush - how she loved that new hue on his skin, how she longed for it to be hers - but fortunately its cause was revealed to her without much delay. The explanation was Nino drawing a cluster of hearts on the back of his friend's hand.

Marinette felt herself blush now. This was a /love/ conversation. Intrigued (and a little optimistic), she leaned ever so slightly forwards. Alya noticed this, quirking an eyebrow as she wrote: 'you really like chemistry, huh?'

Yes, chemistry, but not of the sort they taught you at school.

After a pause, she saw Adrien write something else that made Nino snort silently. He mouthed something at his friend, shock and a little mirth etched in his face in pronounced o's (his mouth, his eyes). Adrien's blush deepened, and he nodded. This was too much for Nino, who smacked the edge of the desk with his hand and made the same surprised shapes with his mouth, before mixing in a few more.

Ms Mendeleiv could not fail to notice this, and Nino received a sharp reprimand for not paying attention. This put a stop to the period's note-swapping, but nothing could stop Nino's prolific doodling; Adrien's notes were quite flooded with love hearts by the time the bell rang.

Nino's head whipped around, and he smirked at his female classmates, "You'll never guess what kind of secrets our Adrien has been hiding."

Adrien moaned, rolling his eyes in exasperation, "Nino!"

"Lesson to you rookie, never trust your secrets with the beefmaster," he declared with a wink.

"Beefmaster?"

"I think it sounds pretty righteous, but the title's in beta period, so be sure to let me know what you think of it. Anyway, Adrien has a crush."

Marinette felt that traitorous blush from before swell in her cheeks. Alya was quicker to respond, and did so with almost as much enthusiasm as her friend felt, "Oh, really? I guess you're not as innocent as we supposed, Adrien."

Another moan, "Oh, be quiet."

"You'll never guess who it is."

"Chloé?"

Adrien made a face, "Um, I..."

"Actually, you know what, maybe it's a dude!"

"Not tha-"

"Oh, I know, I know!" and then, with a sly smile, "It's Marinette. Or me. But probably Marinette."

The girl in question made an indiscriminate noise in her throat.

"Oh, dude, the truth is way beefier than that," Nino said in his most dramatic voice, leaning into the row behind conspiratorially, "It's..."

"Nino, do they have to know?"

"It's Ladybug. Literal defender of Paris, Ladybug. Adrien has a crush on an actual superhero, who, let's just make this clear, he's never actually seen the face of."

"Well, when you put it like that-"

"I think he's reaching, if you ask me," and when Adrien moved as though to talk, he quickly cut in, "Like, you're hot, I'm not debating that you're basically a 10. But that's one interesting relationship you're aiming for."

Meanwhile, Marinette was practically steaming with her blush. She felt Alya's hand go to her knee in comfort, but she'd misunderstood - she wasn't blushing through embarrassment of rejection but embarrassment at being discussed. Honestly, oh my god. Adrien liked her. Except not her. Maybe a bit of her?

Nino was right when he called that prospective relationship 'interesting'.

Had Alya not been endlessly debating whether or not to follow her new creative impulse and start a new blog series focusing on Ladybug's many civilian admirers (suitors was maybe a word for it), she would have seen the girl herself shoot past her window on the way to the Agreste mansion.

Marinette wasn't entirely sure why she was going in the first place, but a sudden need had seized her, and Tikki just... had to go with it. It occurred to her now that she should probably have a reason for showing up at Adrien's window unannounced, but her impulses hadn't yet taken her that far.

She didn't even know the reason, let alone the excuse. The way she saw it, she could use this new information (Nino was, after all, a reliable 'beefkeeper', and Adrien's reactions confirmed it as truth) in two ways.

Method one: appear at Adrien's window as Ladybug, say hello, ask to come inside. Once inside, make small talk, and probably use that excuse she was going to have to come up with. Here, method one diverged. She could make a habit of these trips and build up something more like a relationship - or she could just make her move on him right there and then. That latter option depended on (most implausibly) her own confidence at the time. But if not now, when? She'd pretty much got a confession that he wanted to kiss her, and it wasn't important exactly which of her selves had received that statement. Though it may come across abruptly, awkwardly... there were evident issues with method one.

Method two: appear at Adrien's window, also as Ladybug, say hello, ask to come inside. Method two followed method one up to method one's divergence: so, in a way, perhaps method three was just another route down method one, except for the fact that method two was totally different to method one in its outcomes. Method two was its own thing. She wasn't going to confuse her methods and do the wrong thing and embarrass herself. Method two - if she'd stop distracting herself with semantics - revolved around revealing to him her identity.

'Ladybug is Marinette. You love Ladybug. Therefore you must also love Marinette'. A perfect syllogism.

Marinette/Ladybug was now perched on the roof of Adrien's home, inside the cupola so that she could hide for a moment, get her thoughts back in order. But, here, a little closer to Adrien, her thoughts became an ever-increasing muddle.

Ultimately, Ladybug was not Marinette. Yes, they shared a body, but they could hardly really be called the same person. Being in the spotted suit gave Marinette a confidence she'd never had before. Marinette blushed and tripped and stuttered; Ladybug waltzed through city sunsets. Marinette devolved into syllables whenever Adrien even looked at her; Ladybug always had a good comeback. Marinette was ordinary; Ladybug was miraculous.

Adrien's crush was on a brave, optimistic, heroic girl. While Marinette stood up to Chloé on occasion, and always tried to lift her classmates' spirits, how could that compare to someone who came to the aid of all of Paris rescue every week? Ladybug was mysterious too - Marinette had read somewhere that boys liked girls who played hard to get, and honestly what was harder than someone who couldn't reveal their identity to you? The masked superhero was mysterious, walking allure, gold dust step and evensong voice, a glamour. Marinette was a school girl. She went to class. That was all.

Just because he was infatuated with Ladybug, it didn't mean he was in love with her flipside. The difference between the persona and the reality was vast, and it was splintered. How could she compare to it? How could she live up to that thing that was not herself?

She slumped deeper onto the roof. Oh god, what if she unmasked herself and he was disappointed? No, it wasn't an if, because when she unmasked herself he would be disappointed. Boring, normal Marinette, daring to step in the same shoes as a girl he idolised. He didn't know her, he couldn't really love her, he just idolised her. And it was foolish to think that idolatry transferred to reality and transformed into genuine affection. God, was she foolish.

She thought about her every interaction with Adrien as Ladybug. Staring silences, wide-eyed introductions, stuttering on the other side of a shower door. None of it was meaningful. He just wanted it to be, and so he made it so, and so he told himself he loved her.

And wasn't that how she felt about Adrien? When had she actually /talked/ to him, connected with him? She had simply seized upon one act of kindness and put him on a pedestal. Maybe she loved him because she was bored (boring) and lonely, and aware of these things and desperate for something to change them. Adrien would've changed them. He was a model!

Pathetic. Yeah right. Model, superhero, what did it matter? It meant nothing in the end. Being Ladybug never fixed Marinette.

Poor, boring, average Marinette. Hopeless Marinette. Disgusting Marinette.

She couldn't believe she'd considered using her persona to trick him into loving her back. She couldn't believe she'd considered revealing that broken human beneath and had really thought he would fall for it, stare at her the same way he did the other her. She couldn't believe that even now she was thinking of kissing him, Marinette or Ladybug or Marinette, in an endless, desperate, needy loop.

She let go of that excuse she had been preparing, and crawled out of the small space on the roof. No, she'd go home. These things didn't need to be revealed. Her civilian self could slumber safely on in his world. The idolatrous loves they claimed to have could be laid to rest - or, at least hers. She didn't know how to tell Adrien it was impossible - and parts of her still didn't want to, and she turned in disgust from those parts.

If Marinette needed fixing, she didn't need Adrien's love to do it. In fact, the opposite. She needed to spurn it. She wasn't good enough for it: Ladybug was, but Ladybug was a lie, and Marinette was not Ladybug.

When she sprang back into her room, still in her suit, she became like Nino, doodling over and over, mercilessly, over any scrap of paper she found. Angry, hot-tears squiggles, again and again, over each photo she had stuck to her walls. Stupid, stupid, stupid for wishing for it, disgusting for wishing for it.

When she detransformed, it was like relief. Underneath the legend, Marinette was still there, and still real.

Still average, and still lonely, but that was okay.

At least it wasn't a lie.