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ducky-moo · 4 years ago

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I’ve Got You

A/N This totally sucks ass so I’m probably gonna re-write it at some point but its literally 7 in the morning and I’ve been writing this since like 4 am so ??? I’m done w it for now lol

“Barry!!” You yelled as the speedster was knocked to the ground. The two of you had been fighting a shapeshifting meta-human, and it was honestly kicking the crap out of the both of you. Warm light filled the room as you blasted the meta with starlight, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling.

You couldn’t figure out for the life of you what you and Barry were doing wrong. This meta was always a step ahead, but why? As you continued to blast it, it fought its way towards you, throwing objects at you as it went. Once it was close enough, it used its telekinesis to throw you back against a wall. Your head cracked against it, and you could feel warm blood dripping down your head. A groan passed your lips as you tried to focus on the meta in front of you.

“You...Psychoshine...” The meta’s voice came out in a low growl. You heard static in your ears.

“Y/n!! Y/n! Stay with us!” Cisco sounded panicked as he shouted at you through your comms, and you winced.

“You will always lose, Psychoshine.” You tried to fight your way out of the meta’s powers, but his hold on you was too strong as he approached. You let out a yell of pain as he tightened the grip on you. “You always lose, don’t you? You could never win...no matter how hard you tried.” Slowly, he started shifting before your eyes, into someone familiar.

“You could never win their love...even though you did everything in your power to try...you were never enough...never good enough...” He had shifted into your parents, and you felt a pit rising from your stomach, until it became a knot in your throat. You struggled again, only to be greeted with a hand to your neck.

“Y/n!! Y/N!! Barry, get up!! Come on Barry, he’s going to kill her!”

“Failure after failure after failure...you couldn’t take it, could you? You almost lost to yourself that night...Oh the tragic irony...”

“H-how-” you choked out. Suddenly, he was in your head. In every memory, standing in the corner, watching. He was there. It all made sense now, why you couldn’t beat him. He, like you and Cisco, had mental powers. He knew both yours and Barry’s weaknesses before you even had the chance to land a hit.

“Barry!”

“Running is a coward’s choice...” Suddenly, you felt a jolt of electricity, and the meta was on the ground twenty feet away. You fell to the floor, gasping for breath as you watched Barry continue to fight the meta.

“Y/n! Are you okay?”

Shame, guilt, and panic filled your chest instead of the air you were trying so desperately to draw in. You could hear Cisco panicking on the other end of the comms, but you just couldn’t face him right now.

“Y/n?!”

You reached up to your ears and disconnected the comm, and then your tracker along with it. As soon as you could get to your feet, you were out of the building, running somewhere far from there. Anywhere but there.

“Y/n?!” Cisco’s voice was panicked as he tried to talk to you through the comms. You had just taken a dire hit, and from what he could tell, the meta attacking you was playing mind games. He couldn’t believe he didn’t figure it out sooner. He was pissed that he had to find out at your expense, that the reason they could never catch this meta was because he was inside their heads. Inside your head. All at once, the line went dead and your tracker disconnected. Cisco’s eyes widened in fear. He no longer had eyes on you, he couldn’t contact you. He was completely in the dark.

“Caitlin! Caitlin she’s gone! She disconnected everything, I don’t know where she went!”

“We have to find her, she got hit hard. She could have a concussion, or worse,” Caitlin replied as she ran over to Cisco’s computer. “Cisco, you have to find her.”

“Ok, ok, um her- her boots! I put a-a tracker in them when we were testing them in case she got stuck somewhere.” Cisco was typing furiously on his computer, trying to pull up the tracking on your boots. As soon as he had it, he sent the information to his phone. “Let’s go!” He was grabbing his jacket and already halfway out the door before Caitlin had time to respond.

You were in some back alley somewhere. You didn’t know where- you lost track of where you were going about ten blocks ago. Now, you were schlumped up against the brick wall of the building behind you. You were covered in blood, and drifting in and out of focus. What’s worse was that the meta had reopened old wounds as well. Ones you had long since thought had scarred over and healed. All it took was one look at the faces of your parents to cause them to reopen and pour out blood again. All the years of feeling inadequate and unloved came flooding back into the forefront of your mind. And that same was leaking in too. “Running is a coward’s choice” It was bouncing off the walls of your brain. He was right. You could never win, so when you failed, you ran. You were always running from something. Here, you thought you were safe. With your new friends on this new Earth. You thought you could have a fresh start. But you were wrong.

You were fighting to stay awake when you heard the screeching of car tires. Doors slamming and running footsteps soon followed. Soon enough, Cisco was crouched in front of you, clearly panicked as he and Caitlin assessed the state you were in.

“Y/n, thank God. We found you.” He reached out and wiped sticky blood off of your face, his dark eyes filled with both relief and worry. All at once, everything, all your emotions, came pouring out of you, and you began to sob.

“C-Cisco. I’m sorry. I-I ran. I ran.” You squeezed your eyes tight so that you wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face. Of course, instead of disappointment, the man’s face was filled with worry.

“You did. But we found you...we found you.”

An hour later, you were sat on the exam table in Caitlin’s office in S.T.A.R. Labs. Caitlin had to staple your scalp back together from where it cracked against the wall, and you had been under her careful watch since she had deemed you concussed. Barry had returned a little while ago, and informed the lab that the meta had gotten away, and was still coming after you. You didn’t understand what he wanted from you, but now that it was in your head, you didn’t think you could face him at all. Knowing what he knew...

“How are you feeling?” Caitlin asked as she walked back in. You looked up at her from where you had been staring at the floor, your eyes wide with panic and fear. “No, don’t worry right now. You guys gave him a run for his money today, he’ll need time to heal before he comes after you again. You’re safe for now.” Her voice was reassuring, but didn’t do to settle your nerves.

“He’s in my head, Caitlin. He was in my head. In all of my memories.” Tears pricked at your eyes again, painfully this time. You had only stopped crying twenty minutes ago, and you were trying your best not to start again. Caitlin looked unsettled by this news. You had told them that the meta was playing mind games, but you didn’t really say much more than that. “I can’t- I can’t go home knowing he’s still out there, please, I don’t want to be alone.” And you were crying again.

“I don’t feel comfortable with you being alone either, Y/n.”

“You can come home with me.” Cisco had appeared in the doorway, looking still rather concerned. You looked at your best friend through tear-filled eyes, so you could really only see the vague shape of him. “I can take care of her. For as long as she needs.” He strode across the room and squeezed your knee. “As long as you need.” He said to you, his voice a little quieter as he wiped fresh tears from your face. “Is that good with you Dr. Snow?” He asked with a grin as he turned to Caitlin. She nodded.

“That sounds perfect, Cisco.”

“Hey, how we doin’ in here?” Barry was now in the doorway, looking at you with concern.

“Well, we’ve definitely been better,” Cisco remarked as he went back to his desk. You looked at Barry and couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming shame again. More tears.

“Barry, I’m so-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. Everyone’s okay, and that’s what matters.” You nodded, and he smiled at you. “Just worry about getting better, okay? You don’t have my super speed to fix you up fast.” You giggled, and he nodded at you before walking back out to talk to Wells and Joe.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Cisco asked you as you got down off the exam table. You were about to go home, but you were insistent on walking to the car yourself.

“I’m fine, Cisco.” You wobbled a little before righting yourself. He gave you a doubting look, then looked over at Caitlin, asking her with his eyes what he should do.

“You really should let him help you.” She countered as you began walking towards the door. You let out a groan and looked back at Cisco.

“Fine. You can assist me. Don’t pick me up.” You weren’t very big, but you were self-conscious about your weight. Who isn’t? Cisco grinned and nodded, then came and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Do you want to get some stuff from home? I don’t know how long you plan on staying, so I don’t know if you want to pick up some clothes or whatnot,” he asked as you got to his car.

“Tomorrow, maybe. I don’t think I can tonight.” You winced as another wave of pain rocked through your head.

“Yeah, okay, sure. You can just borrow some of my clothes to sleep in.” He helped you into the car and then went and climbed in. You let out a heavy sigh as he started driving, and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat. Bad idea. You groaned in pain and picked your head up again. “Hey,” Cisco’s hand reached out and rested on your knee, “you good?” Concern was evident in his voice, causing you to smile the tiniest bit. Your stomach had jumped from his touch on your knee, and you glanced over at him.

“I’m okay.” You reassured him. He nodded, but his hand stayed on your knee. You glanced at it, then turned to look out the window, smiling to yourself. It stayed there the whole rest of the drive, occasionally drifting absently up towards your thigh and then back down again. "Let me help you out." He had parked and turned off the car, and was now rushing over to your door. You laughed a little as he opened it and held out his hand to help you out. "What?" He asked, amused, as you stepped out of the car. "Nothing, don't worry about it." "Well now I'm gonna worry about it." You laughed again, then promptly winced as another wave of pain hit. This one sent your vision spinning, and all you could see was stars in your eyes. "Woah." You grabbed onto Cisco's arm as you wobbled dangerously, trying desperately to blink the stars away. "Hey, you're okay. I've got you." His arm wrapped around your waist and steadied you. He watched you, concerned, until your vision came back. "All good?" He asked as you let out a sigh. "Yeah, all good." "Okay." He led you into his apartment, and set his stuff down on the table. "Let me run you a bath." You gripped his arm. "No, don't-" "Let me rephrase. I'm going to run you a bath." He brought you into his room, and you sat down on his unmade bed, sighing as he disappeared into the bathroom. It was a few minutes before he came back out, towel in hand. "Here," he handed it to you, then placed his hands on your shoulders, sliding them gently down your arms. "Come on," he said quietly, helping you up. "You all good in here by yourself?" "God, Cisco, I'm concussed, not paralyzed. I'll be fine." "If you say so." You rolled your eyes and shut the bathroom door. You winced with almost every movement as you undressed, then sank slowly into the warm water of the bathtub, and sighed as you closed your eyes. You could feel the water leeching away the pain from the day as you sat there and soaked. After a while, you washed your hair, getting any of the leftover blood and dirt out of it, and got out. As you were drying off, you realized you hadn't grabbed any clothes to change into. Sighing, you wrapped yourself in the towel, and opened the bathroom door. "Cis?" "Yea- whoa." Cisco responded, looking towards you and then immediately looking away. You rolled your eyes, though even that made you wince. "What's up?" "You forgot to give me clothes," you replied as you walked over to his closet. "My bad." You pulled out an extra big graphic tee and slipped it on over your towel-clad body, then let your towel fall. You held the towel in your hands. "You're good to look now, dummy," you chuckled. Cisco looked back over at you, and you saw something in his face shift. "What?" He didn't say anything, but you felt your heart start racing as he got up and crossed the room to you. "Cisco..." "You know," his placed his hands on your waist and your heart skipped a beat, "you're really beautiful." He whispered, letting his hands slide down to rest on your hips. Your face flushed bright red, and you hid it in the towel. "Stop." Your voice was muffled. "Come here." You could hear the smile in his voice as he walked over to his bed and sat down. You walked over and stood between his legs, your face still partly hidden by the towel. "Put that down." He took the towel from your hands and tossed it onto the bed, then let his hands rest on the backs of your thighs. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he looked up at you. You folded your arms across your chest, feeling so many emotions at once. You knew he was genuinely concerned but...was Cisco flirting with you? You had kept yourself so locked away that you didn't even realize it was a possibility that he could like you. The years of trauma and neglect made it difficult for you to believe anyone could like you...no matter how much you liked them. Trauma. The events of the day flashed through your mind, and you closed your eyes. The feelings from earlier began to rise again, and you started to feel panicky. You brought your hands to your face and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, then let out a yelp of pain as the headache began to pound again. "Hey, hey, it's okay. What's wrong?" Cisco asked, his voice thick with worry. "Is it your head?" You nodded, and he stood up. "Sit down, I'll get you some medicine." Without arguing, you crawled into his bed and sat down, pulling a blanket around yourself. After a few minutes, he came back with tylenol and a steaming cup of tea. "Here, this should help. I'm gonna shower really fast. Like, really really fast, and I'll be right back." He handed you the tylenol and tea, then grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom. 5 minutes later, he emerged, his hair dripping wet and his towel wrapped around his waist. You blinked slowly at him, then blushed and turned away as he walked over to his closet. "Caught you lookin, huh?" He teased as he pulled on a t-shirt and boxers. "No," you muttered. He laughed and came and climbed into bed with you. He shifted himself so that he was situated behind you, then pulled you back into his chest. "Comfortable?" You chuckled. A chill went down your spine as you felt him push your hair over your shoulder. "I should be the one asking you that, shouldn't I?" You didn't realize how tense you were until you felt his warm hands start kneading your shoulders. You let out a heavy sigh as he massaged your neck and shoulders, sipping occasionally from your tea. "Hey...about earlier, with the meta...what was that about?" You tensed up again, and his hands paused briefly. "He really got to you, didn't he?" He asked. There was a moment of silence before you felt Cisco's lips on your shoulder. Your heart started to beat faster again, and you closed your eyes. "He just...he got in my head. He was in my memories. He- he knew everything about me...about my past, my family. I let him get in my head and he used it all against me." Thinking about it all, your body began to curl in on itself, as if to shield you from any further harm. "Y/n, hey, stop." Cisco pulled you out of the fetal position and wrapped his arms around you. "I don't know everything about what's going on, but I can tell you one thing. You're not a loser. I'm a loser. You're like, the farthest thing from a loser. You're a literal superhero." You chuckled a little. "And you know what else? ...You don't have to fight for my love." Tears started to fill your eyes, and you looked down towards the bed. "Cis-" You groaned as your head pounded. "I've got you." He moved from behind you, and rested his hand behind your head as he lowered you down onto the pillow. You looked up into his eyes as he hovered over you. "Do you need anything?" He used his free hand to push your damp hair out of your face. "Yeah..." You reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss. He immediately sunk into it, resting his hand on your cheek as he kissed you slowly. It was a solid minute before the two of you pulled away, lightly gasping for breath. A wide, goofy smile grew on Cisco's face as he looked down at you. "What?" You giggled. "I could kiss you like that all night...if you wanted." "Maybe not all night, but...I do want." "As you wish, madam." A chuckle escaped his lips before he leaned down and kissed you with a soft, yet intense longing. As you reached up and tangled your other hand in his hair, he pulled back and placed a soft kiss on the corner of your jaw. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you." "You are taking care of me," you pouted in protest of him stopping. "Not like this...How's your head, baby?" Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and you smiled. "Better...I think." You winced as another wave of pain washed over you. The boy sighed and planted a kiss on your forehead before rolling over. "I'll get the light," he said as he rose from the bed and crossed the room to the light switch. Darkness flooded the room, and briefly, you panicked. "Cisco?" "I'm right here, Y/n. Are you...afraid of the dark?" He asked as he climbed back in bed, his voice sounding amused. "Pfft. No. I'm afraid of the things in the dark." You admitted sheepishly. He let out a hearty laugh and wrapped his arms around you. "Don't worry, I'll protect you," he mumbled into your hair. You smiled and cuddled up to him, nestling your face in the crook of his neck. "I've got you."

#cisco ramon #cisco x reader #the flash #fanfic #fluff #angsty fluff #superhero

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haliyam · 4 years ago

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interim (v)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 4

Hi again! Forgive me for this chapter and the next few ones, guys. I offer you this art I commissioned and an itty bitty happy-for-a-millisecond Zeke/Reader oneshot in the meantime 😪 (Please notice this I am so happy with it)

As usual, Reader default name Lucy is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background and family name. But feel free to set the substitution for Lucy to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension!

Chapter 5

“Why are you helping me?”

You grit your teeth, peering over at Zeke as he lets go of your foot. He was helping you stretch, seeing as you’re too fatigued to do it yourself, not to mention you’re covered in a heated blanket and he’s put hot towels over and under your limbs.

He ignores you, like he’s been ignoring you since he entered your room with all of these items, asking instead whether you wanted help or not. Like he’s been ignoring you since you arrived as a guest at the Yeagers’.

You don’t really like Zeke, and you’re sure he doesn’t like you either. You’re six, after all, with all the confidence the world can offer a child in your position, and he’s twelve, with all the arrogance of a boy already training to become the Beast Titan when the war in the South is over.

That’s why his help is so strange. And without Mrs. Yeager forcing him into it, too? It’s suspect, and you’re not even sure you know that word yet.

“Why—”

“Shh,” Zeke hisses, looking very displeased about having to respond in any way while you glare at him. When your brows unfurrow and you continue to stare at him expectantly, he rolls his eyes. Still, he finally speaks again. “Why are you like this, anyway? Aren’t you Magath’s new star would-be candidate?”

You were, until the ideology tests began. You don’t know they’re called that, but you’ve been doing terribly at the written exams which ask why Eldians are the dirt between the toes of real humans. Your answers show a well-read knowledge of Marley-sanctioned history, but distinctly lack the Eldian shame that comes naturally to your classmates.

This is concerning to the program and to command in spite of your potential, so it’s up to your instructors to beat that shame into you by keeping you running for far longer than the others, leaving you out of meals, or shortening your breaks and then making you stay behind so you can do everyone else’s grunt work, especially after you dared to look Captain Magath in the eye the first time your class fell in to formation after the first round of exams. And every other time since, like an idiot.

“Not anymore,” you answer, struggling to keep his gaze. You don’t really want to talk about this with someone who now must only wait to inherit his Titan. It makes you feel small, and nobody in Marley should have that authority.

Zeke wrinkles his nose. “That’s not an answer. It just seemed like you were doing great… and now you’re a baby that has to be coddled?”

Your glare returns, shame be damned, but the pain that suddenly pulses through your body as surely as your indignation quickly drains it. Your pride and your strength are depleted for the day, and you need to save what remains for tomorrow, when you have to face the instructors again. And besides—Zeke has already seen how weak you are. What’s the point? Tybur pride will do nothing for you now.

You lower your gaze for once. “Are you going to tell the captain?”

Zeke stares at you. ��No? Why does Magath hate you now, anyway?”

You know why. Because you’re still a Tybur, and you refuse to be nothing. Even if nobody knows it. Even if you feel like nothing right now.

Zeke sighs again—a concession of his own, though that is unknown to you. “Fine. Just... my grandparents will get worried if they hear you crying because you can’t sleep.”

“I wasn’t crying,” you lie. Your body hurts so much that you haven’t been able to stay asleep for very long. You just didn’t think he could hear you crying.

“Sure,” he scoffs. He’s lied, too. It’s difficult to hear much noise inside your rooms from the hall—but you did pass him on the way to the bathroom with those puffy eyes just a little while ago. “Just make sure they don’t see you as pathetic as you look now—they already have enough to worry about. If you have to be pathetic… only do it in front of me. Understand?”

You still want to glare at him, but somehow, his words are almost as much comfort to you as the towels he’s heated for you. You don’t know the last time you let your guard down since the Warrior program began for your class, and you’re so tired. His words, however cold, warm you in your newfound frailty.

“Okay,” you murmur in defeat, relaxing in earnest. Your eyes are slowly starting to close.

“Hey!” he snaps within a whisper, quickly reaching for your shoulder and shaking it. You’re too sleepy to notice his reluctant concern. “Don’t fall asleep wrapped up in all this. It’s just a few more minutes, and then you have to go to the bathroom and put this ointment on your muscles like I told you. Remember?”

You do your best to widen your eyes and shake your head awake. The effort ends with you groaning in pain, but you eventually manage a nod. “I’ll stay awake,” you promise. When he sighs again and pulls the seat out from next to your desk to sit at your bedside, you murmur something else.

He frowns at you. “What was that?”

“I’ll stay awake,” you repeat, “but will you tell me a story?”

Are you surprised that Willy is coming to visit? Yes and no. Over the years, Willy has perfected the art of making his presence in your life known while somehow remaining completely absent. The nature of the new Lord Tybur’s existence in your world became immutable the summer after that fateful one, after you came crying to him and to Lara when you could no longer bear the loneliness of ignoring your friends’ letters for an entire year. Willy’s response, as with everything regarding Mila, was to turn away and change the subject. It was Lara who couldn’t resist your tears and confessed it all to you—what father told Willy hours before he became Lord Tybur, and then all she learned when she devoured him.

The new Lord Tybur was furious. It was only the second time in your life you had ever heard your brother so angry—but he never stays that way with you or with Lara for very long, and wouldn’t you have discovered the truth after thirteen years anyway? In true Willy fashion, he only smiled days later and expected you never to mention it again. The fact that you have, many times hence, is part of why your relationship is so frayed. That and his tendency to appear, shower you with affection, and then shrink at the first sign of trouble. After all, how can anyone expect you to love a man who can’t bring himself to stand up for you?

Your resignation to this is mostly what keeps you from worrying too much the next morning, when Zeke leaves for HQ and you elect to join the Yeagers for market day. Part of it is guilt—apparently you and Zeke now consume much more than you did as candidates, and you want to make sure that you’re paying your share—and part of it is that you still feel ashamed for letting Zeke see you act the way you did last night. You still have to take care not to groan outwardly when you remember how you shrugged him off when he tried to be a friend, or how much you practically wailed into his chest. Never mind how you hid behind him from Mila when he let you, like the coward you are.

“You’re so pathetic, Lucy,” you mutter to yourself.

Standing not far from you by a vegetable vendor, Dr. Yeager glances over his shoulder. “Hmm? What’s that, Lucy?”

“Er—nothing, Dr. Yeager. I was just thinking to myself,” you smile sheepishly. Drawing closer to avoid getting jostled by the crowd, you search over his selection. “Oh! That’s… a lot of potatoes. You don’t need to avoid other items on my account. I’m happy to pay for my share.”

Dr. Yeager chuckles. “No, no. You know how much Zeke likes them. And don’t worry, Lucy, I can carry them.”

“No,” you say slowly, exchanging a look with the vendor when Dr. Yeager gives his smaller basket a faithful pat. You reach for it instead, tugging a little when he stubbornly refuses. “I’m taking these. You can carry some of the fish, but I’ll be taking most of the baskets. Hand them over and I’ll bring these to Mrs. Yeager.”

Dr. Yeager sighs. “Very well, Lucy. But only because I know how much you like carp from our friend down the road.”

You grin, and he lets you take his basket so you can fill your much larger one with (apparently) Zeke’s potatoes. As you part ways so he can go and buy you fish, you set out to find Mrs. Yeager. She should be waiting outside a little cafe not far from the market—Dr. Yeager likes doing most of the groceries nowadays, and Mrs. Yeager’s one very important task is to buy the household’s favorite seasonal dessert: grapes. Unfortunately, the best grapes in the zone market are sold by an old man who has a bit of a crush on her, and he doesn’t like seeing Dr. Yeager if he can help it. Or Zeke. Or you.

That should be her only task, which is why you’re surprised when you find her with a man and a basket full of cured meats when you arrive.

The truth is you almost miss her, if not for the sweet sound of her amused chuckle right as you decide to head inside to find her. Walking around the man blocking her from view, you approach. “Mrs. Yeager?”

“Lucy!” she waves.

Her raised brows tell you she wants you to meet someone; evidently, the man carrying most of her baskets along his arms, wearing an apron over a button-down and slacks with his sleeves rolled up. You turn toward each other at your name, and after a blink or two between the two of you, you realize that the man’s shock is more familiar than you first realized—probably because it’s your second time bumping into each other this weekend.

“Lucy?” he gawps at you.

You give him the same look. “Kellan? What are you…?”

He follows your gaze to Mrs. Yeager, and the way it dawns on his face is enough for you to trust that this is another funny coincidence. “Oh—” He gestures to her, “I was just helping, er…”

“Mrs. Yeager,” you help him.

“Right, Mrs... You’re Mrs. Yeager?” he asks, glancing at her. It’s clear he’s seen her unmistakable red armband, but it’s not polite to ask which child earned you Honorary Marleyan status.

Mrs. Yeager is accustomed to his curiosity, which he soon realizes along with his manners with an embarrassed flush that makes you smile. Luckily, she takes over for him with a pat on his arm. “Kellan here was helping me with the meats I bought from his family’s shop. He was just telling me that he’s studying to be a doctor, and I thought, what a coincidence—but it seems you two already know each other! Isn’t he handsome, Lucy?”

Such a pointed question. You and Kellan meet each other’s gazes with mutual embarrassment.

“You really don’t have to answer that,” Kellan laughs nervously, which helps you snap out of your stupor and look at him. You suppose he is handsome, even with his dark hair mired in sweat and slicked back today. He’s tall, taller than Zeke and maybe even Reiner, with a strong nose and gentle eyes that watch you hopefully in spite of his words.

The Warrior program and boarding school means no one has ever looked at you like that before, and the novelty has excitement blooming in your chest. Maybe a slight pink on your cheeks, too, which you try to hide with a smile.

“I think so,” you say, his gaze and then his shock making you feel a new kind of brave. “And I have bumped into him a few times. ...Sorry again about yesterday.”

“That’s all right. Bumping into you isn’t so bad,” he says almost smoothly, very nearly matching your courage until he remembers Mrs. Yeager and, as such, his embarrassment. “...You know, because Mrs. Yeager bought so much. I’ve never seen my aunt so thrilled.”

You’ve never been this thrilled either—attractive boys were a constant topic for your peers at boarding school, but then you’ve never had the chance to meet one. You still haven’t. Kellan is an attractive man, a few years your senior and hardly a boy. And you aren’t a liar. He’s very pleasing to look at, especially when his eyes search yours so intently.

“Of course,” you say, trying not to look nervous when you take a step closer and reach for the baskets he’s holding. “Well, thank you for helping Mrs. Yeager. But I can take those.”

Kellan withdraws the arm holding her basket, giving you a once-over. “What do you mean?”

“Lucy is our guest at home,” says Mrs. Yeager, who looks far too pleased with herself. “Even if she refuses to let us carry our own things.”

“Please,” you feign a sigh. “I haven’t kept up with some training for nothing.”

Kellan looks confused as he glances between the two of you, but he’s determined when you meet his gaze again. “Lucy,” he begins, “remember that bookstore I mentioned yesterday? I was thinking—did you want to drop by after this so I can show you which books you can start with?”

“Really?” you ask. Perhaps you were hoping to see him again, make a friend or two at campus, but you didn’t think your encounters could actually move past hello and goodbye. But Mrs. Yeager was right. He is handsome, dark-eyed and tall, and the idea of more of those shy smiles is a flattering one. “Well… I’d like that. But I wanted to bring these home first. And aren’t you helping at your aunt’s stall?”

“I can take a break,” he says easily, smile growing just a little more confident. “And I can help you bring these home! You shouldn’t be carrying all these yourself. Er… If that’s all right with you, Mrs. Yeager. And I’d just have to change quickly. Been out here since early this morning.”

“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Yeager answers for you, giving you an openly suggestive look. You pretend not to see it, but stifle a smile yourself.

Politely averting his eyes to spare you the embarrassment, Kellan reaches for the basket on your right arm, and for a moment you understand the Dr. Yeager of a little while ago. But you’ve never experienced anyone’s chivalry before, excepting Bertholdt (and he was an angel to just about everybody and he was twelve). You can suffer Kellan’s for now.

“Thank you,” you say reluctantly. “But only that one. I have my pride to consider, you know.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, readjusting the baskets along his arms. When he shifts them all to just one arm so he can wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his damp hair glistening slightly, you imagine the tales you’ve read of countryside romances at the school library and remember to swoon a little. When he catches you looking and glancing away, Kellan smiles.

“Where to, ladies?”

You find Dr. Yeager with your carp, and he is just as pleased as his wife to have another helper no matter how much he claims he can take another basket of his own. Your fears of Kellan’s talk of med school bringing out unhappy memories in Zeke’s grandfather come to nothing when Dr. Yeager expresses interest in the university system nowadays, and you’re happy to listen to the men converse about Kellan’s plans for specialization on the way home.

“I’ll get it,” Mrs. Yeager says when you arrive, hurrying to unlock the door, and the three of you file into the house while she keeps it open. To everyone’s surprise, the door to the kitchen is already ajar: Zeke and Porco are sitting at the table, poring over folders together in silence. It seems they didn’t hear you come in.

“Good morning, you two,” Dr. Yeager’s surprised remark shatters their deep focus, and both of them spring out of their seats. They immediately turn the folders over and stack them next to a small paper bag.

It’s Zeke who relaxes first. “Grandpa,” he greets, casually nodding at each of you until he spots Kellan coming in from behind you. He doesn’t notice himself straightening up to his full height.

Before he can ask, Mrs. Yeager beams at the sight of Zeke’s guest. “Porco! What a nice surprise. You rarely come to visit.”

Porco’s suspicious brow slackens into a smile for her. It’s almost sheepish, and if that’s the case, is it really Porco? “Sorry, Mrs. Yeager.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Things have been really busy.”

“What are you two doing here?” you ask, rubbing your arms as you set the baskets down by the counter. You join them standing by the table at Dr. Yeager’s urging. “I thought you worked Sundays.”

It is Porco, because he snorts, only a little more politely since the Yeagers are around. “We were supposed to, until our Warchief realized he left work at home.”

Zeke shrugs helplessly. “It slipped my mind. I hardly ever bring home work.”

Porco remembers that you were the one in a hurry to leave HQ two days ago, prompting Zeke to forgo leaving the files in his office when Boy Wonder decided he would accompany you home, which is seriously stupid because you don’t really need any more babysitting. But then the two of you did pass by the family bakery and Mr. Finger—so he decides to stay quiet for now.

On that matter, anyway. He gestures to Kellan, who is quietly helping Mrs. Yeager unload the baskets. “Who’s the guy?”

You shoot him a reproachful, wide-eyed look. “Porco—!”

“This is Kellan. He’s studying to be a doctor, a few years ahead of Lucy,” Mrs. Yeager interrupts. She hardly knows him and she’s already proud of him, it seems, pushing him next to you by the table. He apologizes when the surprising force of her shove has him bumping into you.

“Right.” You steady him with a hand on his upper arm and are unsurprised to find muscle there. “Uh, Kellan helped us bring the groceries home. We’re heading out in a bit so he can show me some textbooks I can study ahead of time, regardless of which professors I get.”

“Textbooks?” Porco repeats with a chuckle. “Since when do you study, Blanchard?”

“Since a while ago, Galliard,” you say pleasantly, even with your teeth gritted, wondering if it’s possible to burn alive with embarrassment while hoping Porco catches alight himself. When the new Jaw only continues to look amused, you sigh. “Kellan, this is Porco, and that’s Zeke.”

You could announce their last names, but everyone in the zone knows who the Warriors are, and Kellan already seems uncomfortable. You hope it’s not because of Porco’s remark and consider throttling the man.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Kellan says anyway, politely offering his hand.

You hold back when Porco shakes it. It goes on for a little longer than you expect and their knuckles are paler by the end of it, but you suppose that’s better than nothing, which is exactly what Zeke gives when Kellan extends a hand to him next.

“The pleasure is ours,” Zeke says in lieu of doing anything else. He’s smiling, one hand in the pocket of his uniform while the other holds half the stack of folders. “Kellan, right? You’re pretty persistent, huh?”

Kellan presses his lips together as he withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Zeke stares at him a little longer before he chuckles. “Nah.”

You’re not surprised. Zeke always takes his time warming to people, if he ever does. When he meets your gaze, his amusement softens into something a little more natural.

You smile back, unsure why you feel embarrassed all of a sudden when Mrs. Yeager comes up from behind you. “All right, Kellan, thank you for accompanying us home. Now, off you two go.”

You survey the kitchen counters with a grimace. The groceries still need sorting. “But Mrs. Yeager—” you and Kellan start in unison, and then exchange glances. His light laughter is a little more than charming.

“Ugh,” Porco mutters, echoing more than just his own sentiments.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Yeager says before you can notice. She rounds the four of you to pat the shoulders of Zeke and Porco. “I’ve found two new helpers in your stead. You can spare a few minutes, can’t you, dears?”

Kellan looks to Dr. Yeager. “But—”

“We can handle it,” Zeke cuts him off, but he’s decidedly ignored the man, waving at you instead. “Do what you need to, Lucy.”

“Thanks,” you beam at him, feeling oddly silly. Like a child playing adult as Kellan opens the door for you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun, kids,” Porco calls out. He chuckles when you glance over your shoulder to shoot him a deadpan look, only to find Zeke giving him the exact same one once the front door clicks shut.

“What?”

“I’m sorry about that,” you say as soon as you leave the Yeager household and head down the steps toward the street. You glance back at Kellan, waiting for him to follow. “Zeke and Porco are nice when you get to know them. And vice-versa.”

Kellan nods, looking at you. “You seem close.”

“Yeah,” is all you can say. When you don’t say more, he doesn’t pry.

He asks to drop by the market again so he can pick up his things and an extra shirt, and you walk in relative silence until you reach it.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, open palms pressing at the air as if you’ll disappear the moment he leaves. It’s cute from someone so much taller than you.

“Go ahead,” you smile, and he does too before diving back into the crowd.

You adjust your armband as you back into a nearby building and watch the coming and going of Eldians through the tightly-packed throng. Long ago, during your first foray into one of the zone’s open air markets, you were disgusted and confused. Only your growing regard for the Yeagers and the thought of Zeke’s sarcastic surprise at the little you knew of the world had kept your mouth shut.

Over the years you came to accept it as part of this temporary home, and market day a time when Eldians could happily interact with familiar faces and keep one another apprised of their trials amid life in the zone. The strong stench of the place became a reminder of this affection you could only find within a community, one completely nonexistent in the grand, empty gardens of the Tybur estate.

The first summer after you left showed you that to Eldians outside of Marley, the Liberio internment zone—a place you still consider a prison for people you care about, where stepping outside its gates to look for a pharmacy when those in the zone have nothing more to offer can end in a beating—is paradise. It’s the most ridiculous thing in the world, but it’s your world. The world that the Tyburs have allowed to flourish.

Alone with your thoughts, you find yourself nervous. Why is Willy coming here? Only Mila was ever permitted to come and visit you—but that was when father was still alive.

Perhaps if Willy sees Liberio, the place that raised you...

You find yourself hopeful. Maybe it was father all along. Maybe Willy isn’t a coward after all.

“Sorry about the wait. Lucy?”

Kellan stands before you, hair no longer damp but brushed down a little more properly. The apron has disappeared in favor of a new button-down, the strap of his messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

His sleeves are still rolled up. You like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile, readjusting the purse at your side. “Ready to go?”

Kellan nods, and is much more talkative now that he feels more presentable around you. He apologizes for his silence earlier—his own scent was bothering him, and he was embarrassed—and he starts to tell you about university as soon as you ask.

The bookstore he mentioned is a little far from the Yeagers’, but it is useful. Many are secondhand, but the store is vigilant about keeping only those published in the last five years. It regularly gets donations, perhaps from sympathetic Marleyans, though how they would know about it you can only wonder.

Kellan advises you as to the best books when it comes to basic medical subjects, which are what you’ll be taking up in your first year. In spite of Porco’s little joke, you’re eager to get started working toward that degree. General List’s words may hang over your head, but now that Willy is coming to Liberio, you have time to wait to tell him instead of putting off writing Lara about it.

“Wow,” Kellan remarks, once you’ve bought everything. “You really are serious about this.”

You glance up at him with a frown you can’t help. “You thought I wasn’t?”

“It’s not that,” he says at once, holding the door open for you as you leave the shop. He offers to take the books off your hands, but you hold the pile to your chest, waiting for his reply. “No, it’s more—I thought I was the only one who did this kind of thing. Study ahead of the year if I can.”

You relax somewhat at his words. “You do this too?”

Kellan nods, and when he reaches again, you let him take half your books. “My friends made fun of me, but I mean to become a physician. There aren’t enough Eldian doctors to attend everyone in the zone, and… I want to help.”

“I see,” you murmur. Suddenly, Kellan seems a lot more charming than he is already. “I bet you’re at the top of your class or something.”

Kellan only smiles, and you blink at him.

“Are you?”

He looks embarrassed about it the way you know most men in your life wouldn’t be. “One of my professors said if I wasn’t Eldian, I might have been offered a scholarship.”

“That’s amazing,” you say, a mix of admiration and pity swirling in your stomach. You wish you could help him. Do more for a man like this.

“Yeah, well…” Kellan shrugs, but he easily replaces his bitterness with a smile when he looks at you again. “You have a good study ethic yourself. You’ll do great.”

You can’t help but laugh at that one. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like passing the state exams was a fluke.”

“You wouldn’t be here if it were.” It’s his turn to frown. “None of us Eldians would.”

You wish that were true. Of course, you took the exams as Lucy Blanchard, and for all intents and purposes Willy had nothing to do with your results. You studied ridiculously hard to earn your grades and the state exam score—it’s just difficult not to wonder when Lord Tybur has always known what you were up to.

“Look.” He stops, moving to stand in front of you. “I know we just met, but—I don’t like hearing you say that about yourself. Okay?”

You can only smile. You haven’t known Kellan for half a day, but you don’t feel like challenging him the way you would the others if they said that to you. It feels like he deserves more than that. “Let’s just say I was always the more sports-oriented type. But thank you.”

Kellan looks at you as though he thinks you might say something self-deprecating again and he’s ready to gainsay it. When you don’t, he nods with approval and looks ahead. “Uh, so I was thinking…”

“What is it?”

“My friends study with me nowadays on university grounds. We’re allowed to, and the university library does have some books the store might not. The cafeteria has great food we don’t have in the zone, too.”

He glances over at you, and when you continue to wait for his point, he asks, “Do you want to study with us, maybe tomorrow afternoon? We have lectures to attend this summer, but I can maybe… pick you up afterward? The permit office will let you if you show them that you’ve confirmed your slot. If you want to,” he adds.

His offer is surprising and exciting and daunting in equal measure, because of course someone wanting to spend more time with you is nice, even if you’re ambivalent about meeting new people. Of course, the new people you met at boarding school knew you as Lucy Blanchard, the daughter of some Eldian servant for the Tyburs, and they were Marleyan to boot. Kellan’s friends are Liberio Eldians too. Maybe they’ll be just like him.

“I do want to.”

His uncertain expression immediately lights up. “Great,” he beams. “Will you be at the Yeagers’ tomorrow?”

“Uh… yeah,” you answer, after some thought. You’ll be at HQ most likely, but you can always leave ahead of Zeke. “Just tell me what time you’ll arrive and I’ll have my permit ready by then.”

“Okay,” he says, pleased. “That works.”

You exchange smiles, and he walks you back to the Yeagers with a more relaxed silence than when you left. He hands you your books once you’ve unlocked the door to the house.

“I really have to get back to my uncle’s, but…” He scratches the back of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, right? Maybe… four?”

“Yeah,” you grin. When he waves, disappearing down the street, you hurry back inside toward the dining room. But it’s empty, with everything sorted in the kitchen. The Yeagers have left a note on the dining table about going out on a Sunday date, apparently presuming you would be out all day, but there’s another note from Zeke on the folded paper bag he and Porco brought home earlier.

Crybabies only, it says. You thought it was part of Warrior work, but you open it and find a few jars of your old favorite fruit jam.

“Tch,” you chuckle, fishing out the jars and storing them, but you take Zeke’s note and bring it upstairs with your books.

You get started on a simple lunch soon after. You want to re-wrap your new books in time for tomorrow afternoon, and make a note to replace Mrs. Yeager’s roll of plastic entirely since you neglected to buy your own. Once you get your permit for tomorrow, it’s still early enough that you have time to visit Mr. Finger, especially since you forgot to yesterday, and you end up sharing his dinner. You were embarrassed about dropping in when he was cooking, but he’s happy for the company, especially while Pieck is away.

To your relief, there are no guards in plainclothes outside the Yeagers’ when you return, and Mr. and Mrs. Yeager are in the living room chatting quietly between them. You greet them and hurry upstairs before they can ask you about Kellan, and allow yourself to linger in the bath when your reflection on Kellan inevitably leads to Mila and the night before.

Given how angry she was yesterday, you already know what she would say to you if she found out about any man like him. Not that you have ever considered sharing your life with anyone, but surely she would accuse you of trying to find some way out of your duty again, even when she knows that the family made sure—

The doorknob turning to no avail rattles into your thoughts. It must be Zeke, since you share a bathroom, so you hurry to get out and get dressed into your pajamas again. Once you’ve brought your things to your room, you give his door a knock.

He opens it pretty quickly. It seems he wasn’t expecting you, because he looks surprised to see you still drying your hair with your towel. On his part, he’s still in his uniform—just without the coat and the belt, one side of his shirt unceremoniously tucked out of his pants. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile, more pleased than you should be. You feel like you’ve been waiting to see him all day. “Was that you? I’m done with the bathroom.”

“Ah. Thanks. I’m still finishing something anyway,” he nods, and leaves the door open when you don’t immediately turn and go.

You follow him inside, flopping at the edge of his bed while he goes to his desk again. “What are you working on?”

“Warrior stuff.”

Something must have him in a mood, but there’s no use poking him at this stage. “I saw the jam. Thanks for that.”

Zeke turns away from his desk, his serious countenance lingering just a little before it finally falls away for mischief at the reminder of his little gift. “Like my note?”

“No. And only because it means I’ll have to share it with you.”

“Heh. Yeah, sorry—just putting off turning in paperwork I should’ve gotten done before.” He sighs, obviously trying to settle down, at least until he seems to recall something else. He glances back at whatever he was writing, his pen swaying noisily between his fingers as it hits his desk. After a beat, he slides his work a little further away from him and asks, “How was the date?”

You’d almost forgotten about that. “Oh—it wasn’t a date,” you say, and realize how strange it feels to be discussing a boy with Zeke. “Kellan is just helping me study ahead of the semester.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, like a promise. You don’t care to mention that you’ll spend time with Kellan and his friends tomorrow afternoon. That was implied, right?

Zeke shrugs, sitting back against his desk chair. “When did you get so fond of studying, anyway?”

You shoot him a dirty look. “The way you and Porco tell it, it’s like I didn’t know how to read.”

“No,” he laughs, making the denial sound a lot more like affirmation, “I just mean you hated it. Before Bruning knew who you were, you were in the running for either the Jaw or the Armor for a reason.”

You peer at him. When Zeke only lifts a brow, challenging you to deny it, you click your tongue. “I guess. But I didn’t inherit anything, so what was I supposed to do? I was never interested in the varsity teams… not that they would have let me join as Lucy Blanchard. And I wanted to be useful somehow. I mean, actually useful.”

“I know,” Zeke says, watching your fingers lightly pinch at the hem of your pajama top in frustration. It’s almost amusing how your tells haven’t changed a bit, but he can’t deny that it’s endearing. “Well… I’m glad you’re doing something apart from getting me in trouble for once.”

Your jaw drops. “I never got you into trouble for that long, did I?”

The two of you meet eyes for a moment, knowing the answer to that, but you both choose not to bring it up. He wouldn’t put you through that memory again.

“I don’t know,” he grins. “How long did I stand there getting an earful when you glued Nickel’s belt together?”

You stare at him, genuinely trying to remember—before you burst into laughter, hand over your mouth in sheer horror at the memory, as though you can’t fathom ever having done such a thing. Zeke is shaking his head, trying not to smile, when you finally calm down enough to present your defense. “That—that was Pieck’s idea!”

“No, Pieck said she wanted to do it. You actually did it.”

“But it was funny,” you grin. “And Nickel deserved it. Besides, I paid for that too.”

“Yeah…” Zeke’s smile falters. He remembers. You had been about this close to being force-fed the glue you used that afternoon, when you found one of Magath’s fellow instructors asleep in his office. “Nickel deserved everything that came to him.”

He remembers what you looked like when they found you, busted lip still stubbornly set in a line, trembling as Pieck shed silent tears when Magath dragged Nickel out of sight. But then your foot nudges his leg, pulling him from his reverie so he remembers what you look like now. Not a bruised or bloody memory that still wakes him at night sometimes, covered in sweat, but Lucy in the flesh, with a knowing expression on your pretty face. Zeke supposes he’s just as easy to read when you know his tells, too.

“Well... sorry about that anyway,” you say. “Pieck had a name for my brand of stupidity for a reason.”

Zeke knows what you’re doing. He grants it to you with a sigh. “No sense of self-preservation.”

“That. Don’t worry—I’ve developed one since then. Or Pieck’ll really give up on me this time.”

You give him a smile, as if he’s the one who needs comforting when it comes to that night. Why did he have to bring it up? He would put his foot in his mouth if that didn’t remind him of Paradis—of his most recent nightmare. The thought of everything you don’t know makes him feel like an ocean separates the two of you all of a sudden. Like you’re here, and he’s still on that island, a blade jammed into his maw. He shivers.

You lean a little closer, elbow on the footboard. Of course you’ve noticed. “What’s wrong?”

Leaving his pen on the desk, Zeke moves over to sit next to you on his bed. If nothing else, he can at least shorten the distance in one way.

He has a lot to tell you, Paradis foremost of them all. He knows Pieck must have said something, but he’s managed to avoid the topic so far.

He has a lot to ask, too—what was normal school like? Did you really not have any friends? You seemed to make easy enough friends with that Kellan character.

Zeke looks at you like he wants to say something, and then gets as far as opening his mouth before clearly thinking better of it.

“It’s Pieck.”

Alarmed at his tone, you inhale sharply. “What about Pieck? Is she all right?”

He was holding his breath himself, but he relaxes with a chuckle.

“Yeah. She’ll be back with the Panzer Unit in less than a week.”

“Oh! Good,” you say, but then stare at him, obviously catching the lie in his old answer now. But he sees it when you shift priorities (Pieck was always one of them)—you’re clearly excited to have her home earlier than she promised, but the why of it is giving you pause. “So soon?”

“Yep.” He shifts away so that he’s moving up his own bed, at least until he catches you giving him a disgusted expression. You can’t stand it when someone still in their out clothes wears them to bed, and he knows that very well. That earns you an eyeroll, but you’ve had so many arguments about it at this point, many of which began with well it’s my bed and which ended only because he couldn’t stand hearing you talk any longer, that Zeke only sighs and practically vaults himself off his sheets so he can grab a change of clothes before you can start.

He makes a twirling motion with his finger when you look, and you turn to face the wall. This must be the quickest that Zeke has ever grabbed or changed his clothes outside the rush of Warrior training as a kid. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly conscious with you in the room. It’s just you.

“You know it doesn’t count if you don’t shower, right?” you ask.

Zeke makes a snorting sound as he climbs back onto his bed in a shirt and a pair of pajamas, even if he feels like he’s twelve wearing the whole get-up right now. This time he ignores you until he’s got his back against his pillows and the headboard, legs stretched out over his blanket and his arms crossed over his stomach. “Do you want to know why Pieck is coming back soon or not?”

Your turn to roll your eyes. “Fine.”

Smiling triumphantly, he pulls out one of his pillows and tosses it on the empty space next to him. You wrinkle your nose at him, but he did give you the clean pillow when he’s given you the other before, so you let yourself fall forward on your stomach and rest your head on your arms, both crossed over his pillow. Your hair looks warmer than usual against the light of his lamp as you peer up at him. “So?”

Zeke looks away and shrugs. He shouldn’t be telling you this. But if his room isn’t safe for secrets, then where is? “One reason. Lots of movement in the south these days.”

Between the old Southern borders of Marley and Ulodana lies its new Southern territories, swept off the board by Marley and into its net in years past through the efforts of the Warrior generation before yours. Mr. Ksaver’s, to be exact, before they started training children. You had heard of minor attempts at guerilla warfare within those former nations in their bid for freedom, but little else. After your summer excursion with Mila, you began to distance yourself from news of the world when it came to Marley’s expansion, the Warriors’ activities especially so. Ignorance was better than guilt back then, but Zeke doesn’t know that.

“The South… you quelled a small rebellion there, right?”

“Yeah, but…” One of his hands drums near your pillow, tugging once at its corner as he asks, “You don’t know?”

“The Tyburs aren’t told everything.”

“Fair enough. Between the two of us,” he says, giving you a meaningful look you return with an earnest nod, “a couple of the leaders escaped into the eastern peninsula. Who knows what support they’ve gotten since then?”

You take a deep breath and hum as you exhale. “...That explains why General List reached out to me.”

“List? He’s the one who called the meeting with you?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows. “Didn’t the commander say he was there?”

“He doesn’t tell me everything. So have you decided?”

You almost look amused. “You know I can’t move without Willy’s say-so.”

He shrugs. Needless to say he doesn’t care all that much for the new Lord Tybur, who sounds just as absent as your old man was back then. “I meant what do you want?”

When your surprise at his question starts to fade, you lower your gaze at his quirked brow, slouching a little. “I don’t know. List wants me to… ‘be the new face’ of the Foundation. Distance it, myself from the regime so we can build headquarters abroad and bring in intelligence. That way we can bring more Eldians into the safety of the organization, but...”

“What?” Zeke snaps, sitting upright all of a sudden, but all the reasons you shouldn’t do it skid to a halt behind his teeth when you recoil in surprise. He pauses, clearing his throat, and reaches up to scratch behind his ear instead. “...would your brother put you in danger like that? What about Tybur non-involvement?”

You scoff, eyes narrowed at nothing you can see here. “That’s not what the general thought. He only said Willy wouldn’t do it to Mila.” Zeke grunts at her name, and you shake your head. “I mean… maybe it’s moot. She would never give up control of the Foundation.”

“Yeah... Maybe.” Maybe it’s enough that you’re ambivalent. General List is one of General Calvi’s close allies, and he’s well-known in certain circles to get what he wants. But even he can’t change the century-old tradition of Tybur ‘neutrality,’ even if part of Zeke is curious to see if Mila Tybur or Hulbart List would win in a battle of wills.

He sets that aside when he catches a distant look in your eye. He’s only ever seen one reason you’ve looked like this. Or two. “She didn’t drop by again today, did she?”

You shake your head. “She had Foundation business yesterday. She must have gone from the city last night the minute she left here.”

“Then what is it?”

You look at him, and now he knows what it is. “I just… ugh,” your eyes fall to his sheets. “I don’t know. I was so pathetic yesterday. I wish I—I wish that I could have said something to her.” Your voice is quieter when you add, face flush with embarrassment, “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”

“This again,” he says at once. It was difficult not to cut you off from the get-go. “Have you forgotten already? If you have to be pathetic…” He reaches over to graze your chin with the curve of his index finger, tilting it forward so that you meet his gaze. “You can be pathetic in front of me. Understand?”

His soft smile is the same as it was in the hallway yesterday. Warm still, like the solid expanse of his chest when you wept in his arms, but suddenly his finger beneath your skin feels hot. Tingles where he touches you. Like your face, now that he’s looking at you like that.

That’s not right. Zeke is either an annoying jerk who should shut his face forever or all comfort, blankets tucked up to your nose after a grueling day of work and a warm bath; a good night’s rest. Wrapped up in a hot blanket, the murmur of his voice lulling you into a deep and restful sleep. Not standing over a precipice with only the whim of the wind behind you or the rush of blood pounding through your ears without warning.

This is not the Zeke you’ve wanted back for the past six summers.

His touch scalds you—or maybe the memories you keep closest to your heart, as if any closer, any longer and it might burn them away forever.

You tremble, but not with pain, and decidedly ignore it as you stare at him, forcing a slight wince on your mouth. You hope he doesn’t notice you gulp. “That was probably more impressive when I was a kid.”

Zeke lets his jaw drop—it must have been a while since anyone denied him their awe—but he only laughs, so deep and hearty you feel his mirth in your own chest, before he flicks a finger at your nose. “You little ingrate. That was supposed to be touching!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grin, a little too widely for your own good. Batting away at his hand, you sit up and slide off his bed. You’re strangely hyperaware of the way you gulp again once your feet find your slippers. When your eyes meet, he’s pretending to be cross with you. Maybe you like it better that way.

“But thank you,” you say, rubbing an arm. “Really.”

Zeke only nods, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as you head for the door. “Lucy—you still coming to HQ tomorrow?”

You glance back only once you’ve got your hand on the doorknob. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” he says, but he looks pleased. “All right, get out. Distracting me from work and then telling me I’m not impressive anymore…”

“Spend more time with the kids. They still think the world of you. Good night!”

Zeke could probably chuck a pillow at you when you give him a little cackle before shutting his bedroom door, but he lets you escape with your dignity intact.

At any rate, he’s in a much better mood when he gets back to work.

////////

If you're worried about Kellan, you can click the fic list link on my bio for spoilers. (assuming you haven’t already read the other oneshots ahahha)

The flashback at the start of the chapter (as well as the others in the next few chapters) is something of an edited excerpt from a long-ass oneshot I wrote detailing Lucy’s childhood from before she left the Tybur estate, going through her Warrior training, and until a little after the time Lara inherited the War Hammer which I was/am debating with myself about editing&posting maybe after finishing the sequel fic to this which occurs during the Mid East-Marley War. I wondered if I should keep flashbacks out except for 2 crucial flashbacks toward the end of the story, but I’ve been sad about the dumb leaks post-139, having this feeling of ‘what’s the point of all this then if it all ends in that’ (even if this will be canon divergent), and I decided I would like to show the most important bases for Lucy’s relationships with at least Zeke and Pieck before she left, plus editing this in made me happy, so yeah.

Also! I know Zeke was a sweet little boy... but he was alienated by his classmates when he did poorly at first and burdened with expectation his whole life. No doubt that alienation shifted to sudden praise, admiration, or jealousy as soon as he became a candidate, and my hc is it made him a cynical kid when it came to others his age and even older people. Of course, he does eventually learn to be more charming (or annoying) and does have friends (as much as you can have friends in his position and with his life view), but that to me is why he’s like that at 12. Mr. Ksaver is exempt from this obviously as he completely trusts the man.

Another note: This is tagged zeke x reader because it’s in 2nd person POV, but also zeke x oc because reader or Lucy has a set background and family name. If you've gotten this far in interim I'm sure you already know what that is. XD So... please don’t send me hate or frustrations about why she looks like she does in the commissioned art I linked in the top of this chapter. Her family name necessitates that she’s white, I'm sorry. I hate having to say this but I'm not white either, or white-passing or w/e, but as I said in my note in chapter 1 I want to write a Tybur OC. If you’re going to send hate about me making a Barbie doll to complete Zeke or whatever I’m just going to delete it. Lucy is much more than that, in fact Zeke is not an entirely positive force in her life though they may appear to implicitly understand one another, and I have an entire background story and development for her that I‘m excited to write and share. I’m (not) sorry if me taking the time out from that to commission art that makes me happy grinds your gears. Of course I hope that readers will enjoy what I've written for myself but if you don't like it, just click away please. I won't be responding to complaints about that from here on out.

Anyway, thank you as always for reading! Would love to hear what you think. Of the flashback, of Kellan, of Zeke, of Lucy's blatant denial of certain things (I love and hate this), whichever! (Also can you tell I love Porco? He notices everything. Or almost everything.)

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daisystudies · 5 years ago

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~college~ study tips

1. study for yourself, not others. don’t study because you like to say that you spent hours studying (or don’t not study just because you want to seem naturally smart)! do what you YOU have to do and not what others expect you to do.

2. understand, don’t memorize. especially if you’re in college!! 99% of the time the professor would rather you understand why something is rather than just what it is.

3. read the textbook. even if your professor goes over the chapter in class, a lot of times they’ll slip in questions on the exam that they didn’t go over in class but were in the reading. (sneaky!!)

4. don’t wait until the end of the semester to ask for extra credit. you are 20x more likely to get it if you ask in the middle.

5. eat in class if you have to! not sure if this qualifies as a study tip but i’m including it anyway. if you’re starving there is no way you’ll be able to pay attention in class! keep some snacks in your backpack to eat during class to keep you energized and focused! the professor most likely will not mind, but if they did, it would probably say so in the syllabus.

6. make study groups! i know a lot of people find them distracting, but maybe try to meet with a study group for every class at least one or two times a semester just to make sure you didn’t miss anything in the notes. and who knows, your group might be able to explain tricky concepts to you better than your professor can!

7. take advantage of little pockets of time. do you have 30 minutes between classes? read over your notes! waiting in line for chipotle? pull out a quizlet!! college can get BUSY and overwhelming and you may have trouble finding a large chunk of time to study, so spend the down time you do have wisely!

8. ^ that being said, take breaks! if you just walked out of an exam and you’re feeling pretty brain dead, don’t pull out your notes and study! let yourself have some time to relax before you get back into your rhythm. you don’t want to burn yourself out!

9. don’t forget that you have a final exam! after you finish a chapter exam or quiz, don’t let yourself forget all of that information, it’ll make finals 10x harder! if you have extra study time every once in a while go over some of your old notes to refresh your memory.

10. go to office hours. that’s it. that’s the tip.

11. be flexible with your study time! don’t go to the library thinking “i have to stay here and study for 8 hours for my exam tomorrow or i am a bad student” because a. that is not realistic b. you might not actually need that much time. maybe you only need 3 hours to feel prepared! maybe you are planning on 2 but you really need 4! just be flexible!

12. have a clean & clear work space. we love our decorations and 20 mason jars full of pens on our desks, but at the end of the day, if your desk isn’t functional, change it. it is much easier to focus and get stuff done when you have adequate space to do so.

13. explain concepts out loud to yourself. you may sound crazy, but this works! this helps you work out the best way to explain things for the exam (especially if the exam is in essay format), and you can easily find out how much you actually understand by doing this! just go through your notes and explain all the major concepts. i always pretend i’m a professor teaching it to students (i know it sounds crazy but it really does work).

14. make sure to bring a water bottle to your study sessions. don’t be like me and only drink coffee!! coffee is great and all but doesn’t do much for your energy if you’re dehydrated and you are more likely to crash. water is really important and will keep you energized for a longer period of time!

15. switch between classes you are studying for every hour or so. your brain cannot focus on the same thing for very long, so switching between different subjects will help stimulate it so you can study longer!

16. NEVER write an essay the day before it’s due! i guarantee it will not be your best work, even if you believe you work better under pressure. your thoughts and ideas need time to develop, and they won’t fully develop if you do it all in one night.

17. if you hit a point in your studying where you can’t focus or learn anymore, go to bed. the information will process in your brain overnight and you will wake up the next day with all the information fresh in your brain, and you’ll feel much more awake and focused on studying.

18. mind map!! mind mapping will help you connect all the concepts together to better understand how it should all flow.

19. don’t wait to do tasks that will only take 5 minutes. get all of these quick tasks out of the way before you get on netflix (or studyblr tbh). this will help clear up your to-do list and get you into the groove of studying without doing anything too strenuous!

20. don’t take yourself too seriously. still work hard, but remember that you are young. one bad grade on a test is not going to ruin your entire life. have fun in college and don’t stress yourself out over grades or your future too much.

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cocos-cocoapuffsarenotforsale · 4 years ago

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Not Him~~Part 5

MASTERLIST

Part 4

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader

Warnings: Protective!Bucky, Dad!Tony, Takes place during Captain America: Civil Ware, Pregnant!Reader, fainting, swearing, CANON DIVERGENCE!

Taglist: @chewymoustachio

A/N: Hey guys, I finally updated Not Him! I am planning on writing one more part (an epilogue). Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the taglist (or removed). Sorry if you have already asked, it’s been a while and I’m having some difficulties with finding it. Hope you all enjoy the update!

---Xoxo Courtney

————————————————————————

“This place is amazing!” You exclaim in awe. You hear a small chuckle and turn to see a teen girl watching you with an amused look on her face.

“Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. Of course, this girl was used to all this technology and probably thought you were an idiot.

“No worries, it is amazing after all.” She said giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Shuri, can you gather the healers, please? I have a new assignment for them.” T’Challa requests, the girl, Shuri, nods her head and quickly exits the room.

“The healers should have some ideas on how to remove whatever it was that HYDRA put in Mr. Barnes’s head,” T’Challa explains, leading the three of you towards a sitting room.

“Just Bucky please,” Bucky requests, he always got uncomfortable by being addressed by his last name. That was something you had learned almost immediately after meeting him.

“Thank you for all of this Prince T’Challa,” you say grateful for all his help.

“Please, call me T’Challa. And after all, it’s the least I could do for you. I am honored to be able to help you. You may stay in Wakanda for as long as you would like. I am already working on having you all exonerated of any so-called crimes. And I am working to have the UN pull the Accords. I have seen first hand the damage they can do. It is not worth it. I agree with the Captain now, the safest hands are our own.” He replies with a kind smile.

“As soon as we get Bucky sorted we’ll be off. We don’t want to put you out more than we already have.” You assure him, thankful for all that he has already done, and is continuing to do for you.

“It’s really no trouble.” He promises as Shuri walks back into the room, followed by a group of what you assumed to be the healers.

“We will need to examine you, Mr. Barnes-” says the women in the front of the group. She must be the Chief Healer.

“Bucky. Please,” He corrects, she nods a small smile forming on her face.

“We will need to examine you, Bucky,” she corrects. “But if what I am told is true it should be a rather simple fix.”

“A simple fix?” You repeat in disbelief.

“Yes, in Wakanda we have very advanced technology and medicine. This is something we have encountered a couple of other times in our history. We took in a few ex-HYDRA agents, after a failed invasion about ten years ago. It was a little tricky to figure out at first. But once we did we were able to have them all rehabilitated in about 6 months.” She explains, puffing out her chest every so slightly in pride.

“So much for the poor, developing nation, huh?” Steve mutters with a grin, making T’Challa smirk.

“That was an old policy. We were very isolationist historically. We feared invasion and having our resources stripped from us. Now, however, that is changing. I intend to open Wakanda up to the rest of the world, my father had been heavily considering it before his passing.” T’Challa explained.

“Bucky, are you ready for your examination?” The Chief Healer asks, getting you all back on track. Bucky looks to you, uncertainty, and fear in his eyes. You give him a reassuring smile and a small nod of encouragement.

“Yeah,” he agrees, standing up and following her and the rest of the Healers out of the room. You watch him leave and you feel your chest seize in fear. What were they going to do to him? Was he going to be ok? You unconsciously begin biting your lip and pacing.

After a few minutes of this Steve steps in to try and soothe you. “Y/n, it’s going to be alright. Bucky is strong, he can handle himself. Besides they are going to take excellent care of him.” Steve promises, gripping your shoulders gently with his hands.

“Wakanda has the most advanced medicine and technology on Earth. Our Healers are excellent, you have nothing to fear,” T’Challa assures you with a kind smile. You nod in agreement but still feel your knees buckle and the blood leave your face. The last thing you see is both Steve and T’Challa sending you worried looks before it all goes black.

————————————————————————

“I’m gone for ten minutes and she passes out?!” You hear a familiar voice shout accusingly. Your eyes flutter open and you turn your head towards the voice. Finding Bucky pacing, his hands running through his hair, one of his nervous ticks.

“Buck?” You ask, your voice still drowsy.

“Doll, you’re awake!” He exclaims rushing towards your side.

“What happened?” You ask, feeling confused. The last thing you remembered was Steve and T’Challa trying to ease your worries about Bucky.

“You passed out Doll,” Bucky replies, cupping your face in his hand, his eyes searching yours for any remaining problems.

“Why?” You ask still confused about the situation.

“Do you remember the last time you ate?” Shuri asks you and it’s then that you notice you are no longer in the sitting room. Instead, you are in what looks like a futuristic hospital room.

“Maybe before we left for Siberia,” you guess unsure. You had been a little busy lately, you hadn’t exactly been paying attention to eating.

“Before Siberia?!” Bucky choked, looking pale and distressed at your answer.

“I’ve been a little busy Buck,” you remind him in a teasing tone, hoping to lighten the mood. Which apparently doesn’t work because Bucky just glares at you. Looking around the room you see T’Challa and Steve watching you carefully, worry covering their features, and Shuri who is giving you a disapproving glare.

“You need to be more careful Miss Stark. In your condition, it is inadvisable to skip meals. If anything you need to increase the amount of food you are eating.” Shuri reprimands you.

“I know, it’s just been a little tough to remember that lately.” You concede with a sigh.

“Then I’ll help you from now on,” Bucky vows, his voice serious.

“How did your exam go?” You ask trying to change the subject.

“I know what you’re doing,” he smirks.

“Is it working?”

“For now. But we are going to talk about this along with some other things later.” He promises and you scrunch your nose at the thought. He chuckles at you before continuing, “They said they can start treating me whenever I’m ready, it should be anywhere from 3-6 months of intensive therapy.”

“When are you going to start?”

“Tomorrow,” he replies, a look of excitement crossing his face.

“So soon?”

“I want this thing out of me as soon as possible. Especially if we’re gonna have a little one around.” Bucky explains, placing his flesh hand on your still bumpless tummy.

“I love you Bucky,” you whisper, pulling his head down to yours, pressing your forehead against his.

“I love you too Doll,” Bucky replies before softly pressing his lips against yours.

————————————————————————

Epilogue

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hematomes · 3 years ago

Note

I LIVED BITCH

it's sunday and i finally feel more human!! im not totally okay so im kinda hoping the test comes out positive tomorrow (otherwise i have to go right back to school or be marked absent like ok sorry im still recovering from the Killer Virus)

aaand im so stressed!! i have an online exam (bc im in quarantine) but i didn't study shit yesterday bc i was DyingTM and i just wanna get it over with bc there's!! so much!! to do!! i was Out for like 4 days which means There's So Much Shit Piled Up,,,,,,, man actually fuck this im skipping Monday either way we've got a history test that there ain't no way in hell I'll study for.

if i sound hectic it's bc i am!!!!!!! but in reality im sitting on the side of my unmade bed sipping tea. i need to get up.

anyways. good morning!!! how's life?

~soup (btw i DID get soup. i got so much soup in fact i think im good for the rest of the year.)

YEAHHH ROYALTY BEHAVIOR

i was abt to tell you to not go there on monday either way but glad to see you made that decision on your own (saves me the guilt of being a bad influence)(although you really need the rest. so ill take that guilt over you being forced to go to your monday classes)

your online exam is today?? </3

dw abt sounding hectic, im happy to see you sound more energetic!!!

hhh well it's only 9:30 and i am barely awake, had very weird dreams but i only remember the feeling of it,,,, i also have to get up but am lazyyyy ans should actually get carried off my bed and served breakfast. i finished my fruitcake yesterday too, so i don't have any breakfast to eat AND THAT'S TRAGIC

zndkzk soup when you're sick...... <3 i also got some soup yesterday and thought of you!!!! the og soup enjoyer

#[☂️] soup anon / 💜

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hjh-ceilo-monster · 4 years ago

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Who live next door? : Dragon next door (KSJ)

Author note : Finally, I’m back you guys. My uni decide to move my final exams schedule for the third time. Anyway, hope you enjoy my first os after break.

Shout out : The plot belongs to Hybrid Prompts @Ungnyeo in wattpad. (I think you also have your blog here, but I forgot. Sorry.)

Summary : Your ancestor was a well known dragon hunter. However, now is 21st century and you decided not to continue training. You moved out from your hometown and started a new life in a city. What you didn’t expect was your handsome neighbor/love at first sight will turn out to be a dragon. Not to mention that he is a sassy one.

Author pov.

“Be safe, dear.”

“Don’t forget to visit us, y/n.” Those were the last sentence from your parents before you left the house. Inhaling the fresh air for the last time and mumbling a goodbye for the last time, you jumped onto the bus.

You tried to calm your nervous self down by plugin the earphone into your ear and listen to music. Gazing out the window, you sighed. Many thoughts ran in your head.

Is your decision correct?

Will you have friends there?

Will your neighbor like you?

Train of thought lost you from reality. You didn’t realize yourself until a voice calling you.

“Miss, can I sit here?” You just nodded and moved a little for that someone to take a seat.

“You seem nervous. Perhaps, are you from out of the city?” Now you looked up and find a guy sat beside you. The beauty of his face made you quickly looked down and flushed. What a handsome guy.

“Did I startle you? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s..I...nervous.” Your stutter made him chuckle.

He seemed to use lots of effort to strike a conversation with you. However, thanks to your stutter, it made things awkward. Still, he continued talking to you and ensured that you were doing great.

“And here we are, our stop.”

“Our?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention it. Your address is next to mine.” He scratched his nape and glanced at your house. He then jogged toward his house and turned around.

“Welcome, new neighbor.” Giving you the last wave, he entered his house.

There my heart, shaking as if it wanted to come out. You think you have a crush on him.

A week later everything seemed to be good. You found a job at a local bookstore. The owner was so kind and gave you the job without any interview. Saying that it isn’t common for someone in the town to want a job here.

“Namjoon-ah where should I put this box?” You stood still at your spot. Waiting for the boy to give you an order.

“Oh over here.” He ran toward you and picked the box out of your grip.

This boy was the grandchild of the owner. He was as sweet as his grandpa. Having you as the employee, he didn’t let you work much. All you need to do was the cashier work. He became your friend here in no time besides.

Your neighbor, Seokjin, which you got to know his name three days after your first encounter, was great. He was really helpful and always walked with you downtown.

Despite his warmhearted persona and stunning face, you noticed some odd things about him. First, he always wore a beanie or a hat when he hanged out with you. Secondly, no matter how hot the weather was, he would always wear a jacket or some days layer it all.

Finally, his body temperature seemed to be warmer than usual. You once joked around with him and clung around his arm. However, you felt hot so you suddenly ask whether he has a cold or not. He said that it was normal.

Another week later you guys plan to have a movie marathon and sleepover. Honestly, you tried to convince yourself to act normal and not to imagine that this was an indirect date.

Ring... Ring...

“Oh you ar...rive” You glanced at pillows in his embrace. You didn’t mean to look as if you were judging him. Counting the number, he carried 4 pillows from his house.

“You don’t need to carry them here since I have mine.” Now Jin was panic. He forgot that you didn’t know his secret yet and it was the reason behind his weird act.

“Ummm I just don’t want to use your belong that much since I always see you do laundry 3-4 times a week.”

‘Wow, he notices?’ You impressed and got distracted a bit.

“Can I go in?”

“Oh sure.”

Watching a movie wouldn’t be fun if there was no Jin. He could turn every serious moment into jokes, even if it was a scene in a horror movie. Both of you now cuddled on the sofa. The pillow he brought become useful since they all fluffy. It made the place fluffier and more comfortable.

“Tired?” Jin asked. Notice your body that busied cuddling with him and wiggled in his embrace to get sleep. Your eyes were half open and seemed to not focus on the screen anymore.

“hmmm,” You only hummed with a nod.

“Good night then, blossom.” He bent down and kissed your forehead to you who already drifted to dreamland.

Next morning

You woke up because you heard a growl and mumbled of someone. The realization then hit you. Looking around. you were in Jin’s embrace. All the growl and mumbled sounds came from him.

“Mine...” Your eyes widen when you got to hear those sounds. Every question started answering on its own in your head. Connecting all dots, you got the final answer.

He is a dragon.

“No!” You got out of his embrace by pushing him. Seokjin was awake and looked at you with eyes full of confusion.

“What happen blossom? Did I do something wrong?” He asked with a sleepy voice.

“You...you are a dragon.” Now he was fully awake from his beauty sleep. All of sudden he felt his heartbeat drop.

“Uhhh I can explain i-”

“You tried to fool me, did you?”

“No, I di-”

“I am very disappointed in you, Kim Seokjin. I thought we were a friend and it turns out you fool me. Perhaps, you want to kill me? Why yo-”

“Stop! If you are going to accuse me then stop. Ok, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I trust you, y/n, but I also know you were a hunter. What do you expect me to when I meet you the first time and find out that my mate is also the dragon hunter?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. First, you fired your anger toward him. Second, you accused him without thinking straight. Now, knowing a piece of new info that you were his mate.

“Seokjin, I a-”

“Save it, I know this will happen. Sorry for bothering you all this time and I won’t do it again. Have a good day.”

And he left.

2 weeks later

“Namjoon I fuck up.”

“For the hundred of time, when will you stop saying this to me? I suggest you go to his house and apologize to him.”

“No, it isn’t that easy. You know I...” You told Namjoon the full story without missing any detail. You trusted him when it comes to advise.

“Now I know. I’m not surprised that hyung feels upset. I will all feel upset if that happens to me as well. We only have one mate in a life time s-”

“Wait right there, what do you mean we?” Namjoon then chuckles with your reaction.

“I thought you know about this city.”

“I have no idea.”

“Y/N-ah This is a dragon city. Most people here aren’t just human. The ones who look like normal humans are mostly not human either. You are one of a few citizens here that are pure human.”

Namjoon then explained more about the town and promised to bring you and meet his friends.

“Now go to him and apologize to your man.”

Ring... Ring...

“Who dares to interrupt my bea- huh?”

“Is Jin here?” You asked the guy who opens the door. You assumed that this must be one of his friends. He nodded and let you inside.

“Upstairs, turn right.” You bowed as a thank you before went to the room according to the direction.

You gathered all your courage together and knocked on the door. Waiting there for a while, there was no answer. You dropped all the manner and entered Seokjin’s room.

“Yoongi, I swear I’m not hu- oh it’s you. What brings a little missy here?”

“Jin, we need to talk.” You spoke and tried to be calm.

“And what do you want to talk about? How I will kill you? How you will kill me?”

“No Jin it is no-”

“So what is it then? I didn’t pay for the grocery bill last time that we hang out? Oh no, I brought some of my food too. Let me think again. I parked the car too close to your entrance?”

“Jin stop, I come here to apologize, ok? I fucked it up, yes. I will admit that. I just want to correct things between us. I know I said those words and you are upset. I want to apologize for that. I didn’t know why I got so angry when I found out you were a dragon. I shouldn’t do that. Hell, I should be happy because I am your mate and you are my crush from the first day I arrived here. You might not forgive me and that’s fine. At least, remember that I am sorry for everything.”

Jin froze in his place. He didn’t know how to act, what to say, or even what is his feeling right now. He felt the guilt eating him because of his attitude toward you minutes ago yet his heart full of delight when he heard that he was your crush.

The moment of silence made you upset little by little. His face showed no emotion. You assumed that you were too late.

“I’ll go now and sorry again.”

The moment you opened the door, it closed immediately. The door slammed shut and then your body toward it. Jin towered your body and stared deep into your eyes. You felt like he was searching for your soul.

“I love you blossom.”

“I...” You didn’t get the chance to reply when his lips connected with yours. The kiss was heat and rough yet passionate. He continued to savor the sweet taste of your lips without caring that you were now out of breathing.

Your hand tried to push his check as a signal. His lips left yours with a string of saliva. Your face was flushed. Your heartbeat echoed in the room. Jin then grinned widely before carried you to his bed.

“Wh..what are you doing?”

“Cuddle.” He answered and placed you on the mattress. Kissing your forehead, he wrapped his arm tightly around your figure. Making you feel secure.

“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow then”

“Hmmm just sleep for now blossom, I’m tired. Besides, you have your whole life with me anyway.”

“Nah, you didn’t ask me out yet, Seokjin.”

“Very well, then be mine?” You turned around and faced him. You decided to tease him a little by peck him before answered.

“I’m yours.”

“Bold and eager are you?” He flipped then hovered you.

Guess what? No nap time for both of you.

Author note 2.0 : I hope you enjoy this one. I’ll see you next story(not sure whether it’s going to be in this series, but will write something soon). Thanks a lot and take care of yourself.

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Ok

Summary: Chris has been gone on a work trip related for a while. Reader has a complicated week, when she finds out that Chris is coming back, she is not able to welcoming him the way she wants.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Sickness, vomiting, fainted, fever, body issues (not to profound)

Word Count: 2,768

This was written for the Week 5 Weekly Challenge of @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @donutloverxo @captain-a-rogerss

A/N: This was kind of proof-read so if there’s any mistake, please let me know, English is not my mother tongue, and I’m still learning. Enjoy the reading!

Monday

You had to get ready, but you were still in bed. It was one of those days you wanted to stay in bed and do nothing. You weren’t feeling ok; you assumed that it was because you missed him, your dearest boyfriend. Today marked the second week since he left for work. It was supposedly to take just a couple of day, but it didn’t go as planned because he hasn’t come back yet.

You felt alone, empty. Chris wasn’t there with you, neither Dodger; Chris insisted on took him in with his sister, so you didn’t have to worry about him. You took a deep breath and decided to get up and get ready for the day.

Once on the kitchen, you were having just a tea, not coffee today, you weren’t in the best mood and the caffeine didn’t help you. You were lost in thought about all you had to do for the day when your buzzing phone brought you back to reality.

Good morning doll. Counting the days to be back with you.

I wish you a beautiful day

Love you

Chris

Suddenly a smile appeared on your face, and felt love, just pure love. Chris knew how sad and difficult is for you to be alone for so long. You decided to text a quick response and then get ready for work.

Hello beautiful boy. I can't wait to have you with me.

Have a beautiful week.

Love you more

Y/N

The day at work started pretty good for your liking, but it ended up bad and it was just Monday. Someone did something wrong on important papers and your boss had to deal it with you. Being part of a group of assistants was difficult, you have to deal with the bad mood and yelling from the bosses and people who believed had a superior position than yours. You were really stressed, you needed a break to keep going but it was the beginning of the week and you still had the rest of the week ahead. You finished working around 4:30 pm and had to get ready for your classes. You’re on your third year of college with a major in Art History, your current job it doesn’t have any connection with what you’re studying but it helps the survival.

You have a few delayed papers, a few with close deadlines but still you have to prepare two final exams. The stress was starting to kick in.

Tuesday

The same emptiness you felt yesterday today was there. You had barely slept; you stayed awake doing some papers and making flashcards to study. Last night after coming back from school, you started to cry, you were overwhelmed, and you needed Chris by your side. You had texted him but you put it aside afterwards because you didn’t want any distractions. You were starving; you didn’t have dinner yesterday, so you got up and went to have breakfast. You took the computer with you so you could update more papers. You had to checked the phone, probably some of the teachers had emailed you because you were late and the grades were coming down. You had a few texts from Chris, of course.

Hi love! I’m sorry I didn’t answer back, I was busy.

How did your day go? I really miss you

Chris

Babe, is everything alright?

Pls answer me

Chris

I hope you rest well. I can’t wait to see you

Sweet Dreams, good night, I love you

Chris

You felt really bad because he wanted to talk to you, but you needed to update some of your essays. Your work was taking you more time than you had expected and because of that you were getting behind in the classes. You finished breakfast, got ready and went to work.

At lunch break, you decided to text Chris back and tell him what was going on.

Hi honey! How are you? Sorry I didn’t answer I was catching up with homework

I hope your day it's better than mine :(

I really miss you. Can’t wait to see you

Love you

Y/N

So far the day was stressful, but manageable. You had tons of work, and probably you had to stay extra hours to finish some papers that had to be delivered the following day. After the break you started to work on those papers when you got a phone call.

-Hello –I say not seeing who was calling

-Hi love –Chris said –How are you?

-Lost in work, you? –I say

-Missing you –he says

-I miss you too –I say –Look honey, I really appreciate you calling, but I have to finish this, and I’m already late with it –I mention with a sad tone

-It’s okay doll. I wanted to check on you actually –he says –but I’ll call you later

-I’m good, don’t worry –I say

-Ok. I love you –He says upset

-Love you too. Bye –I say and hang up

If you thought that your day was going to get better after that call, you were wrong. A really strong headache hit you and made you feel dizzy, probably it was because the late night working. You decided to take an aspirin, ignore the pain and keep working.

You had to stay almost four hours after work, your headache never left and you had missed the classes of the day. You wanted to get home and get into bed and wake up on the weekend. You decided to send Chris a quick text because he had promised you to call.

Hi love! I know you wanted to talk, but I’m leaving work right now and I have to finish an essay for tomorrow and I’ll probably ignore my phone.

I’m really really sorry

Talk to you tomorrow. I promise

Love you

Y/N

Once you got home, you took off your clothes, put some pjs and started the essays which were due date tomorrow and you haven’t started yet. It was going to be a long night with lots of coffee.

The pounding headache you had earlier got really worse, your eyes were watering making it really difficult to read and your body was really sore. It was the fifth cup of coffee when you got a text from your mom

Hello Y/N! I hope you remember our dinner tomorrow

It’s been a while since the last meeting.

I really miss you

Mom

As soon as you saw who texted you, you rolled your eyes. You’ve totally forgot the dinner with your mom, you were doing too many things but remember it wasn’t, but you couldn’t cancel it. It was the only time you were able to see her during the week.

Hi mom! I’ll be there, don’t worry

I miss you too

Y/N

When you send it the message, you realized it that was almost 6 AM and you haven’t finished your essay yet. You stop doing it and went to take a shower and then start the new day.

Wednesday

After your late night work and your shower, you still felt tired and sore. You prepared your breakfast and went to finish your essay. Luckily you were able to finish it just in time to go to work. You send a quick text to your mom and Chris and started your day.

Your day at the office went pretty well. Some stressful moments, but besides that, everything was normal. You were feeling really bad, being all night awake wasn’t your best decision but it was worthy, your essay was perfect, as your teacher said, and you were proud. You needed to go home and crash your bed; unfortunately you had dinner with your mom. You felt feverish but you didn’t pay much attention, probably was the lack of sleeping.

Hello my love! How’s your dinner with your ma going?

The producers told me that probably I’ll be back home by the weekend. I can’t wait

I love you

Chris

Your face lighted up immediately. It was the middle of the week, and Chris was coming back home. Nothing could ruin your day.

Dinner with your mom went terrible. She’d complaint about everything you have been doing since you moved on your own. Everything got worse when she started to criticize your body and your diet; and when she compared you to your sister you snapped. You had to kick her out of your house before something bad happened. Chris promised you to call, but you weren’t in the mood, not after what happened with your mom, so you turned off your phone, drank a beer and then you went to sleep. You deserved it.

Thursday

Your alarm started to sound pretty loud, you got up and had to run to your bathroom, it wasn’t the cleverest idea to drink a beer before bed. Once you emptied your stomach, you laid on the cold floor. Today you had to stay in, so you emailed your boss calling in a sick day. You went back to bed and you fell asleep immediately. You woke up a few hours later feeling a little bit better from your stomach. You went to the kitchen; you prepared something light to eat and went back to bed. It was the perfect opportunity to finish all your essays you hadn’t hand in yet.

Some hours later, you were emptying your stomach on the bathroom again; you probably had caught a bug during the week. You should tell Chris about it, he shouldn’t get sick.

You remembered that you’d turned it off the night before, probably you had several messages and missed calls, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to deal with anything. Indeed, you had several phone calls from your mom and a bunch of texts saying she was sorry and she never meant to tell you such things. Before calling her you texted to Chris quickly to give him an update on your day and your health as well

Hi love! That’s great news! Sorry I didn’t answer back sooner, I was busy…

I don’t think you should come directly from the airport, I think I caught a bug, cause I haven’t been feeling well for a few days.

I hope your day is going good.

I miss you

Y/N

And then you called your mom. She picked up after the first ring

-Y/N! Darling, are you ok? –she asks almost screaming

-Yeah, I forgot to turn on my phone –I say avoiding my health

-I’m sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have told you such horrible things –she says

-But still, you did it –I say –Look, I know you don’t like the way I’m living, but it’s MY life –I say

-I know sweetie, but I still feel bad about how everything ended –she told me.

“She was really excusing herself” you thought but your stomach had other plans

-I’m sorry mom –you say –I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later –I say and hung up

You run to your bathroom, lucky for you, you made it. You really needed Chris next to you. You heard your phone ringing, probably it was him calling you, but you didn’t have the energy to get up, you were really dizzy and you started to see black dots, and then everything went black. This wasn’t good.

You didn’t know how long you were passed out, but when you woke up, you felt terrible. You checked your temperature, the thermometer marked 100.4°; with all your energy you got up, and went back to bed to rest, you didn’t have enough energy to take anything or even cook something.

Friday

You don’t know when exactly you woke up, you emailed to your job calling in sick again. You didn’t realize what time it was or how long you were asleep. The only thought in your mind was that you needed to clean the house, Chris was coming tomorrow and everything was a mess, even though you warned him about being sick you knew he was going to come either way. You had to take your temp again; you were shivering, probably because it went up. Certainly it did, it was 102.2°; you knew it was bad, so you dragged yourself from bed and decided to run a bath, which was going to help.

After your bath, you went to the kitchen and prepared just a tea, and grabbed two crackers, you didn’t want to push your stomach, you were still weak; and you went back to bed.

You had a few emails from school, from work and some texts from your mom and Chris. When you were about to texted Chris back he called you.

-Hello my love –he says with his calming voice

-Hi –you answer

-How are you feeling?

-Really bad –you say pouting

-I’m sorry doll. Do you want me to call someone to take care of you?

-Don’t worry hun, I’m better now. With some rest I’ll recover –you assure him

-I’m calling you because I’m about to head to the airport so, I’ll probably don’t answer my phone until tomorrow –you heard him smiling

-It’s ok love; I can’t wait to see you again –you say smiling as well

-Me too love. Me too. I’ve got to go –he says upset

-Safe travel, I love you –you say

-Love you too. Bye –he says and hung up

You were crying already, you didn’t know why, probably was the fever. You finished your tea; you put some cozy clothes and went to the kitchen to start cleaning everything.

You finished cleaning pretty late so you took another tea and some crackers for dinner. You weren’t in the mood for food and neither your stomach. Once you finished your tea, you went to your room to clean it, when a wave of nausea hit you and you had to run to the bathroom again. You lay on the cold floor; it was a beautiful sensation against your heated skin. With all your strength you grabbed the thermometer and took your temp again, because you were pretty hot. You were running a temp of 103.1°. You needed help, you tried to get up from the floor so you could go to grab your phone, but you fainted before getting up.

Saturday

Chris arrived at dawn; he found the house clean although you told him you were sick. He noticed there was no dinner leftover, “have you been eating?” he thought to himself, he was worried

-I’m home baby –he calls but there’s no response

-Y/N? –he calls you a little louder

He thought that you might be sleeping, but his heart broke when he find you. He lifted you from the floor and put you in bed. He went to the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and pouring some cold water, grabbed a washcloth, a glass of juice and some ibuprofen and came back to the room.

When you woke up, you realized that you were on the bed, “did you make it to the bed?” you thought when you saw that Chris entering your room.

-Hey! You are awake –he says and you could barely smile

-When did you arrive? –you question

-Not long ago, I was worried –he admits -I found you on the floor –he sits next to you on the bed pulling the tray on the nightstand

-Oh –you say and you look your hands

-What is it love? -he asks caressing your cheek

-I think I fainted in the bathroom –you admit

Chris didn’t say anything; he went to the bathroom and picked up the thermometer. He came from the bathroom with a worried face

-Open –he commands

You did what he had told you and waited. He never stopped caressing your cheek. You were falling asleep when he woke you up

-Don’t fall asleep sweetie, I know you’re tired, but please, hang on –he sounded worried - Did you eat something? –he asked you but you just shake your head and the thermometer beeped

-104° .How high was the last time you checked it? -he asks you

-103.1° –you says

-We have to break this before it gets worse. How many times did you faint? –he was really worried

-Two times, I think. I don’t really know actually –you say disappointed

-When was the last time that you eat something solid? –he asks concerned

-On Wednesday, with my mom –I say –Probably that’s why I fainted the first time –I explained

-Don’t worry, doll. I’ll take care of you –he says caressing your face.

~Tag List (If you want to be part, let me know)

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho

#weekly challenge #writing challenge #captains weekly challenge #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction

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ggukcangetit · 4 years ago

Text

Dreamcatchers 5

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 3.7k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | A/N: found a lovely group of people at bsh and their enthusiasm is infectious enough to get me to write a lot more than i had originally planned. reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing! additional note: the timeline at the end of the post is what i imagine yuri and jeongguk were constructing on the station’s white board in the last scene.

20th December

Seokjin was inside his bakery, getting ready to open in a little bit, when frantic knocking interrupted him. Checking his watch, he saw that it was 6.52 am, which meant that he had 8 minutes until opening. While people in this town were known to wake up at the crack of dawn, he had never had anyone knocking at his door before opening time. A second set of knocks - much louder this time - made him rush over to the front door.

"They've arrested Jimin on suspicion of murder."

Taehyung stood there looking more lost than he had ever seen him. Even more than when he had found Seokjin months after the latter had left home. Even more than when he had been given the responsibility of taking over the company. Taehyung, who struggled to wake up in time for 10 am meetings, was wide awake before the clock struck 7 and looked like he hadn't slept a wink the previous night.

"Did you run all the way here?" Seokjin asked. Taehyung's hair looked windswept and beads of perspiration lined his forehead despite it being the middle of winter.

"Why've they arrested him? He would never do something like that!"

"Come inside first. You'll catch a cold if you stay outside like this."

Once inside, Taehyung didn't look any less perturbed - his expressive eyes glistening with many different emotions. Seokjin brought out a cup of hot chocolate and a red bean bun, sitting down opposite his younger brother.

"Now, tell me what's going on."

"Jimin was arrested last night on suspicion of murder."

"Murder? You mean Eunwoo? They think Jimin had something to do with Eunwoo's death?"

Taehyung nodded his head, the initial rush of adrenaline having worn off, leaving him looking significantly more worn out.

"Do you know why? How did you even find out? Did Jimin tell you?"

"No. Ahreum did." Taehyung rubbed his face with his hands, trying to rid himself of the terrifying thoughts rushing through his mind. "She was there when Yuri - that's her friend who's also Jeongguk's new partner - made the call. There must be some mistake!"

Seokjin bit his lip worriedly. While Jimin had been Taehyung's best friend since they were little, there was no doubt that the former led a very wild life involving many questionable escapades. He didn't know much about Yuri, but there was no doubt in his mind that Jeongguk was a very competent detective who knew what he was doing.

"I don't know what I should do." Taehyung's voice, jolted him out of his thoughts. "I should go down to the station, shouldn't I? Jimin probably needs someone there with him. What about getting a lawyer? Should we ask Namjoon? I-"

"Slow down, Taehyung," Seokjin said, patting his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure Jimin's gotten a lawyer himself. His family has a lot of resources. But if you want, you can drop by the station in case he needs something."

"Y-yeah, I should do that. I'll go right now. I- Shit!" Taehyung patted his coat pockets frantically. "I can't find my car keys!"

"You didn't drive here," reminded Seokjin, gently. "Do you want me to drive you there?"

The bell hanging above the front door jingled softly at that moment, signalling Seokjin's first customer of the day.

"No, you shouldn’t leave your bakery. It would be bad for business." Taehyung shook his head, the helpless look in his eyes not leaving him despite his conviction to leave his brother out of this.

"Why don't you ask Ahreum if she can give you a lift? Isn't she usually up by this time?"

"You're right! I'll do that!"

Seokjin busied himself with the customer who had just come in, his eyes wandering towards his brother ever so often. Ahreum picked him up 15 minutes later, but Seokjin couldn't shake off the worried feeling he had gotten after seeing Taehyung so frantic and helpless.

...

Yuri had reached the station at 6 that morning. She hadn't slept last night, going through every inch of evidence and every statement they had taken related to Kang Eunwoo's murder. Her stomach had dropped when she had read the email from Seulgi last night. It wasn't that she was convinced that Jimin was a saint who had nothing to do with this, but the fact that he had finally decided to give a blood sample suggested either that he was innocent, or that he was guilty but somehow knew that he would be able to escape the charges. Both options did not bode well with her.

Jeon arrived around half past 6, the bags under his eyes suggesting that he had also had a sleepless night. He didn't say anything, just heading straight for his desk and pouring over a set of files like he had a final exam he was cramming for.

Chief Inspector Goh had spoken to both of them on a conference call last night once news of Jimin's arrest had been confirmed.

"Are we completely sure about this?" His voice hoarse, indicating that the call had disturbed his slumber.

"Yes, sir," Yuri replied, not waiting for her partner to chip in. She was the one who had received the email from Seulgi, she had been the one to convince Jimin for a blood sample - this was her line of inquiry. Which made her all the more nervous.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind either of you that the Parks are difficult customers. Young Mr. Park does not have a criminal record despite his many infractions over the years."

"We are aware, sir." Jeon answered this time, being more familiar with the social landscape than Yuri. "Everything will be carried out according to proper procedure."

"Good. Be prepared to deal with lawyers as well. I have a suspicion that that bastard Song will be representing the Park boy tomorrow. Jeongguk, I'm sure you're aware of his reputation and the kinds of clients he usually represents."

Yuri did not know about this particular lawyer, but made a note to look up his previous cases to get an understanding of what they were up against. She had no doubt that Jeon would be as unhelpful as he had been since she had first arrived.

"You can't start the interview before 8 am, but given that he was arrested just before midnight, we will have lost 8 precious hours out of the total 48 before we have to either charge him or release him on bail. Be clear, be smart, and do not allow anyone to string you along."

"Yes, sir." They both replied, before ending the call.

"Do you want to go over the interview strategy?"

Jeon's words took Yuri by surprise. She had been expecting a cold shoulder at best, and unfiltered hostility at worst.

"Y-yeah sure," she replied, turning her chair around to find that he had moved over to her side of the cubicle already.

"I think we should lead with the blood match," he continued, frowning at a sheet of paper. "What do you think?"

"While that is the most efficient way to approach it," said Yuri, pausing to organize her thoughts. "We could also press him to provide us with an alibi."

"Why'd you think that?"

Yuri tapped her fingers on the table, wondering how far she should try and explain her idea to Jeon. "I just... He was very uncooperative about providing an alibi last time. But then he came down and voluntarily gave a blood sample, which has put him in a much worse position than not providing an alibi. I don't know why he would refuse the low risk option in favor of the high risk one."

Jeon scoffed. "Well you clearly don't know Jimin then."

"Well obviously not like you lot do," she frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued, leaning against the divider. "Your confusion is completely valid, but this behavior is very much in character for Jimin."

"How'd you mean?"

"He's a loose canon. He has no regard for authority - half of what he does is to piss off people in power or positions of authority. Jimin's always been like that as far as I can remember. But-" he paused and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly - "this is much more serious. This is murder."

Yuri pressed her lips together, wondering how difficult the interview was going to be.

8 am

"You are aware that you have been arrested on suspicion of the murder of Kang Eunwoo on 16th December."

Park Jimin looked very different from the previous few times Yuri had met him. His silver hair was devoid of any gel, making him look drastically younger. He was not wearing expensive lounge wear like he had been during the previous interview. The only thing that remained unchanged was the emotionless look in his cold grey eyes.

His lawyer, on the other hand, looked quite cheerful - smug even. As if he knew in advance that his client would get off without any charges no matter how serious the offense.

"When you were here a couple of days ago, we asked you where you were on the night of December 15th. And you did not provide us with an answer." Yuri paused, trying in vain to discern something from Jimin's expression. "So let me ask you again - where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

"I must impress upon you the importance of this matter. You are the prime suspect in the murder of a rival family's heir. If you do not provide an alibi, we will be forced to assume that you do not have one."

Silence.

"Your blood was found on the victim's clothes." Jeon took over, moving along to the main line of inquiry. "What can you tell us about that?"

"No comment."

"The victim's father says that you visited their house on the night that the victim was murdered. What do you have to say about that?"

"No comment."

This was not going any better than the previous interview. In fact, Yuri thought this one was much worse. Even though they should have had the upper hand, Jimin's unperturbed, stoic expression indicated otherwise. The blood on the sleeve was enough to charge him, but with the Park family's resources there was always a chance that Jimin would be able to get off in court. Which was why they needed to build a stronger case against him.

Jeon continued persisting with the questions, receiving an emotionless "no comment" every time. The lawyer looked rather relaxed, and Yuri tried her best to avoid looking at him. Instead, she focused on Jimin. Everything about him was unreadable - his eyes, his body language, his face, his tone of voice. Despite his more casual appearance this time around, his fingers were still adorned with multiple rings. Her eyes lingered briefly on his hands, absentmindedly counting the number of rings when something struck her.

Jeon had paused to look through his notes, and Yuri took this opportunity to dive in.

"Mr. Park," she began, placing a hand on Jeon's knee to stop him from interrupting her. "I noticed that you always wear a lot of rings on your fingers."

"As far as I can remember, DI Choi," said Jimin's lawyer. "Wearing a lot of rings is not a criminal offense."

"And I commend you on your immaculate memory," she replied, dryly. "Getting back to what I was saying, you wear a lot of rings. Are they supposed to be a fashion statement? Or do they have some greater significance?"

Jimin's expression flickered for the briefest of moments.

"For example," she continued, indicating the ring on the little finger of his left hand. "That's an unusual design - quite old-fashioned compared to the rest of your rings. Is there anything special about that ring?"

"I don't understand how this is relev-"

"Then why don't you let your client answer himself."

For the first time since the interview had begun, Jimin's posture changed slightly. "That ring belonged to my mother."

"I see... that must hold a lot of emotions for you." Yuri removed her hand from Jeon's thigh, indicating that he could continue. He didn't say anything to her, preferring to hold eye-contact for a few meaningful seconds

"I'm going to ask you one last time," he said, taking over once again. "Where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

...

"What was that about?" asked Jeon, once they were out of the interview room.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he sighed in exasperation. "The ring, Choi."

"Just wanted to bring down his guard a bit," she shrugged.

He looked unconvinced, but dropped it seeing as they had more pressing things to deal with at the moment. Shaking his head, he went into Goh's room to update him on the outcome of the interview.

Making sure that the door to the Chief Inspector's room had been shut completely, Yuri switched on her laptop and pulled up every bit of information she had on Jimin. Even though she had gone over it less than 2 days ago, there were some things she needed to confirm. If what she thought was even remotely possible, they had been looking at things wrong the entire time.

"Hello? Telecoms Division? This DI Choi Yuri, badge number XXXX. I wanted to check whether this phone number is currently being used in Korea. Yes, I'll hold."

She tapped her fingers on the desk nervously, hoping she could get the information before Jeon came back. While it was true that he hadn't been openly hostile with her over the past 24 hours or so, she didn't want to risk pissing him off without something concrete.

"Yes, I'm still here," she breathed a sigh of relief when the person on the other end of the line took her off hold. "Really? Okay. And can you tell me if the number was being used overseas at any point in the past 2 months? I see... Would it be possible to send this to my official email? Great! Thank you very much for your help."

A couple of minutes later, Yuri's laptop pinged, indicating a new email. She read through everything carefully- once, twice, making sure she had gotten everything down accurately.

Fuck...

"Going somewhere?" Chief Inspector Goh walked out of his office to see Yuri putting on her coat and packing her bag.

"I- uh- yes."

"There's a lot of paperwork that has to be done, I'm afraid," he continued, checking messages on his phone. "You and Jeongguk will probably need to be here well past usual hours."

"Of course, sir." Yuri shrugged off her coat and sat down with a sigh.

6 pm

Seven hours. It had been seven hours since Yuri and Jeon had begun working their way through the piles of paperwork Goh had instructed them to finish.

"I'm hungry." Jeon stretched his arms above his head, yawning with his entire being. "Do you wanna get some takeout?"

"What?" Yuri looked up from the page she had been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes. Her eyes were glazing over with exhaustion.

"Food. Dinner. Sustenance."

"Y-yeah," Yuri blinked her eyes rapidly. "Sorry what were you saying?"

"You know what? Never mind. I'm just ordering a bunch of things- " He unlocked his phone and began typing away furiously. "Eat whatever you like from there."

Yuri gazed at him for a few moments, trying to reorient herself with the three dimensional world. She noticed that he was sitting on the swivel chair with his feet tucked beneath him - something oddly endearing which didn't really fit her image of him.

"I like dumplings," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Jeon smirked but didn't say anything.

Half an hour later, a dozen or so takeout containers lay open in front of them - occupying more of Yuri's desk than Jeon's, much to her annoyance. He had rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, slurping the hot noodles rather noisily.

Yuri threw him a quick glare and reached over to pick up a couple of fried chicken pieces.

"So why'd you ask Jimin about the ring?"

"I see you haven't forgotten about that," Yuri rolled her eyes, biting into the juicy meat.

"It was too specific to be a random thought," he shrugged. "So, are you gonna tell me or...?"

"I don't know if I can trust you, Jeon," she replied, simply.

"W-what?" he spluttered on the noodles, gulping some water to stop choking. "I'm your partner! Why can't you trust me?"

"I don't know..." Yuri tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Is it because you only glared at me on my first day? Or is it because you haven't greeted me civilly even once since I joined? Ooh, I know! Maybe its all of these combined with the fact that you've been an uncooperative bastard since I got here."

Jeon stared at her guiltily, his eyes widening considerably - giving him an expression akin to a deer caught in the headlights. "You're right. I apologize for that."

"Against my better judgment, I'll accept your apology. But you have Yoongi to thank for that."

Jeon smiled into his noodles at the mention of Yoongi.

"You also have Yoongi to thank for what I did yesterday," she continued, setting down the empty container. "I nicked your 2nd Nov case file and went through it."

"You what? When?!"

Yuri waved her hand dismissively. "Details. Unimportant. Yoongi suggested I should and I did. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Anything else of mine you've nicked in the 5 days that you've been here?" grumbled Jeon, but there was no real bitterness in his tone.

Ignoring his comment, she pulled out her phone from the charging socket. "The reason I asked Jimin about his rings, is this -" she scrolled up to a particular picture and passed the phone over to him - "The ring found at the 2nd Nov crime scene is identical to the one Jimin wears on his left little finger."

"Are you sure...?" Jeon asked, raising an eyebrow uncertainly. "Even if it is, what's to say there aren't hundreds of other identical rings belonging to people across the country?"

"I did think that initially," Yuri took her phone back, and pulled up another image. "Which is why I asked Jimin about it during the interview. He said that it belonged to his mother. I'm sure you know this much better than I do but the late Mrs. Park came from a very old, distinguished family. That ring that Jimin was wearing is a family heirloom - from his mother's side. Here's an article that covered heirlooms of famous families in Korea, and it mentions the Park family."

Jeon took the phone from her, a frown forming on his face. The article was dated around 3 years ago.

"According to the article, there were three rings in total. One that belonged to Mrs. Park - which was buried with her after her death - and two others belonging to Jimin and his older brother Minhyuk. Not just that, there's a picture of Jimin and Minhyuk in the article, where they're both wearing the rings."

"Shit... You're right." Jeon pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "During the investigation, we just assumed that the ring belonged to the victim and had slipped off her finger during the struggle."

"Three rings," said Yuri. "One that has presumably been buried in a grave for over 10 years. One that was definitely on Jimin's finger today. And one that was found at the 2nd Nov crime scene."

"Minhyuk? You think he had something to do with it?" asked Jeon, sharply. "It was pretty clear that the drunk and homeless father of her child had stabbed her."

"Hear me out," she continued, opening her laptop this time. The food lay forgotten at this point. "I went through what we know about the victim - paints a pretty tragic picture. Although it wasn't always like that for her. She worked for a few years, saved up enough money before enrolling into a professional degree program at Busan National University."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Her time at Busan National University coincided with Park Minhyuk's Masters program."

"What?"

"Yeah, but," she continued, finding the university website. "She dropped out after less than a year because her father passed away, leaving behind a huge pile of debt. We know that her mother had passed away when she was about 10. Now if you look at her daughter's birth certificate, it would appear that she got pregnant while she was still enrolled at the university."

"Are you saying the baby was his?! There's a pretty big stretch from attended university at the same time to father of her child."

"Let me finish, would you?" she groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Fine, go ahead."

"In order to see if they were acquainted with one another, I resorted to the most informative source available - social media. Our victim didn't have much of a social media presence, but I scrolled through anything and everything Park Minhyuk has been tagged in. And guess what I found?"

Jeon stopped eating, and moved closer to the screen to see a picture of a few university students having a picnic together. It was dated January 2016, and two of the people in the picture were recognizable immediately.

"Holy shit! They did know each other! And quite well apparently." Jeon wheeled his chair forward, bumping into her chair in the process. "Shit, sorry."

Yuri rolled her eyes and moved out of his way. She had no desire to get slammed into again.

"Since I'm not part of the original investigation, I thought of checking whether Park Minhyuk was in the country around the time of the stabbing with a different excuse. I called the company, asking if he was available to chat about Jimin. They said he's abroad at the moment. Has been since October, apparently. But- " she rummaged through the papers on her desk before finding the post-it she had hurriedly scribbled on a few hours ago - "Telecoms did an analysis and found that his cell phone has been operating in Korea for a while now. So...?"

"Either someone else has gotten a hold of Park Minhyuk's cell phone," said Jeon, frowning thoughtfully. "Or the Parks are knee-deep in murder and perjury."

XXX

a/n: sorry there was such a huge delay between chapters. i was writing out some of the chapters beforehand so that there wouldn’t be too many plot inconsistencies.

#c me write bangtan #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook #hoseok #yoongi #namjoon #taehyung #seokjin #btsbookclub #bts fic

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years ago

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Namjoon Scenario| You just see him as a friend so he tries to win your heart

“Namjoon you are the best friend I could ever ask for. What would I do without you?”

Ah, there was that word again. Friend. Every other time he heard you say that it hurt. It was a reminder that his feelings for you were one sided, and that things would never move farther than that between you two. However this time, it started something within him. He was tired of just being your friend. He wanted you to see him as more. This was the day he had decided he was going to try his best to make you see him as more than just a friend. He wanted you to see how much he cared for you, how much he loved you in a romantic way. He couldn’t sit around any longer, not wanting to risk some other guy coming in and sweeping you off your feet.

You are 4 hours into your study session, trying to cram before a test you have tomorrow. You hear a knock on your door, you have no idea who it is at this hour, whatever hour it is. To be honest you completely lost track of time. All you knew was that is was late based on how dark it was outside. You go to your door and open it, only to find there is no one there. You glance down both sides of the hall, before looking down and seeing a bag of food sitting there with a note on top. You pick up the note and read it and smile, immediately recognizing Namjoon’s handwriting.

I know you are studying late so I wanted to get you some food to make sure you eat. You always forget to eat when you get absorbed in your school work. As if on cue your stomach growls loudly. Good luck with your studies! Not that you’ll need it, you’re incredibly smart. The smartest person I know so you’re going to do great tomorrow. Fighting! -Namjoonie

Your smile widens as you look in the bag and see he’s brought your favorite meal along with some snacks. You pull out your phone and send him a quick text.

Bless you Kim Namjoon what would I do without you?

Starve.

Probably. Why didn’t you stay?

Didn’t want to distract you from your studies. How about if I take you out for lunch tomorrow after your exam to celebrate the A I know you’re going to get.

That sounds perfect. Thank you so much!

You lock your phone and place it back on the table as you resume studying. A few hours later and you feel your eyes are drooping closed. You glance at your phone and see it’s nearing 2 in the morning. You decide to stay awake for maybe another 30 minutes, however your mind seems to have other plans as before you know it you are face planted into the book.

You don’t remember falling asleep. But sure enough you are woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. You panic slightly, thinking you over slept for your exam until you look at the clock and see you still have an hour to spare. You sigh in relief before you hear your lock clicking open.

“Wow. You look horrible did you sleep on the table all night?”

“Hello to you too, Namjoon. Because ‘you look horrible’ is the first thing someone wants to hear when they wake up.”

“I didn’t- I mean..”

“Relax. I’m just messing with you. What have you got there?”

“Um.. coffee. And breakfast. I know I said I would take you out for lunch and we can still do that! But I know you overdo it when you are studying and I figured I would stop by to make sure you didn’t oversleep and bring you a little pick me up.” Maybe it’s the fact that you didn’t get more than 5 hours of sleep, or maybe it’s because Namjoon is just that sweet but you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You quickly wipe them away and sniffle before making your way over to him and hugging him tightly.

“Thank you. Seriously you are the best. I feel so lucky to have you in my life and I just want you to know I’ll never take this for granted.” You pull away and smile at him, taking your coffee and breakfast and happily sitting at the table. Namjoon snaps out of his daze as he was admiring you and sits at the table.

“Want me to quiz you on anything?”

“I think I got it down just fine. I spent hours studying so I hope I will do well.”

“I know you will. You’re really smart and determined so I know you will ace that test.” He gives you an encouraging smile and you see his dimples form on his cheeks. You’ve always found them adorable and couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and poking one. He chuckles but doesn’t bat your hand away like he used to. He lets you rest it there for as long as you want to. His gaze becomes too much for you and you let your hand drop and look away.

“I uh.. should probably go get ready now.”

“Of course! Do you want me to drive you? Then you won’t have to rush through getting ready you can take your time.”

“You’ll be late to your class though...”

“Ah it’s fine. I haven’t been late or missed a class yet I think the professor can let this once slide.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Goodness you’re an angel. I feel like nothing I say or do will ever be enough to thank you.”

“Just stay by my side with that beautiful smile on your face that’s all I need.” You blush and turn away quickly and rush into the bathroom. You splash cold water on your face as you realize there are butterflies in your stomach. You brush away the thoughts buzzing around in your head quickly, chalking it up to just nerves before your exam. You finish getting ready for the day and step into the living room to find Namjoon sitting there looking at something on his phone. He laughs at whatever it is and you feel that weird feeling in your stomach again. Oh gosh am I...? Before you can focus on your internal crisis any further Namjoon notices you standing there.

“Ready to go?”

“Y-yeah let’s go.” You quickly grab your bag and head out the door. On the way to class, you find yourself staring at Namjoon more than usual. Had he always been this handsome? Of course he had been, you were just now starting to realize you were developing feelings for him so everything was hitting you hard.

“Ya know if you take a picture it’ll last longer.” Namjoon teases you with a chuckle. You blush and look away before steeling your nerves. You pull out your phone and do just that. Namjoon blinks rapidly, feeling rather surprised that you actually did.

“Now I can see your cute face whenever I want to. Maybe I’ll make it my new lock screen.” He nearly slams on the breaks when you say this but he collects himself, deciding maybe he had finally gone crazy and just imagine this whole thing. He is approaching your building now anyways. “Thanks for the ride Namjoonie!” You lean over and peck his cheek before running out of the car and into the doors. He stares after your retreating figure, hand placed to his cheek where the feeling of your lips is still present.

“Yeah. Definitely gone insane. There’s no way y/n just kissed me nope. Definitely not.”

He’s in a daze the rest of the day after this, not fully focused on anything and he feels like he should have just went back to his apartment since he wasn’t even paying attention in class. When the lecture is finally over he checks his phone and sees there are a few texts from you.

I think I did really well! I remembered almost everything I studied yesterday so I think I at least got a B. Did you still want to grab lunch, love?

“L-love?! Ah I swear y/n is trying to kill me, what is this?” He continues mumbling to himself as he texts you back, ignoring the odd stares of people walking by him.

Yes I would still like to grab lunch. Tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up.

You let him know you are still at the building where you took your exam and he heads over there to you. When he does and you get into his car the first thing you do is kiss his cheek again and he stops functioning for a second. He doesn’t even realize you are talking to him until you flick his forehead.

“Ah! What was that for?”

“I’ve been talking to you for the last 30 seconds and you haven’t said anything. Were you even listening to me?”

“No. I’m sorry I zoned out.”

“What were you thinking about so intensely just now?

“Um.. nothing. I just uh was trying to remember if I turned the oven off before I came here.” He mentally face palms at the lame excuse he just came up with but you seem to buy it as you turn back towards the front and look out the windshield. You also seem to zone out for a few moments and now he finds himself feeling curious. Usually you are very talkative but so far you’ve just been staring out the window.

“Now what are you thinking about y/n?”

“Mmm, I don’t know you wouldn’t tell me what was on your mind so why should I tell you?”

“Because... I want to help you if something is bothering you.”

“Well, nothing is really bothering me I was just deep in thought.”

“About what?”

“You.” His mind blanks for a moment.

“M-me? What about me?”

“Just that you’re really handsome you know? And kind, and funny, trust worthy, to be honest you’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

“B-boyfriend?” You nod like what you said was just the most natural thing in the world. To him it was mind blowing that you just openly said these things to him. He’s sure he’s blushing and his suspicions are confirmed when you giggle.

“And plus I like making you flustered. You’re cute when you blush.” Namjoon pulls the car over and looks at you incredulously.

“Y/n are you flirting with me?”

“Um.. y-yeah I was. If it’s too weird and I was reading this all wrong and you want me to stop please tell me and I will.”

“Wait a minute.. reading what wrong?”

“You’ve been extra nice to me lately and have been complementing me an awful lot. I thought maybe you were flirting with me. Oh gosh this is so embarrassing I am such an idiot. Of course you weren’t. You just see me as a friend and I just messed everything up.” Your breath quickens and Namjoon can hear the fear in your voice. He places a hand on your cheek and turns your gaze towards him to help ease your nerves.

“Y/n you didn’t mess anything up or read anything wrong. I was trying to get you to see me as more than a friend because I thought I never had a chance with you otherwise.”

“W-what?! That’s ridiculous of course you would have a chance with me! Granted at first yes I did still see you as a friend but I think it was because I was too afraid to come to terms with my feelings. I really think I started to like you since the first day we met but I just buried those feelings for fear you wouldn’t ever like me back.” Namjoon lets out a huff at that.

“Of course I like you! How could I not? You’re the most important person to me in my life and you are everything I could ever want.” He notices your gaze drifting down towards his lips. He sees your tongue run across your bottom lip and that’s all the cue he needs before he leans in and presses his lips to yours. You lose yourself in the kiss, feeling fireworks explode in your stomach at the feeling. Your hand grips his thigh tightly as you deepen the kiss until you are both breathless. You pull away, breathing heavily and slightly out of breath before you start giggling. Namjoon can’t help but join you and soon you both are laughing fully.

“Can’t believe we waited that long to do that. That was... wow.”

“Yeah.. wow.” Namjoon leans in and pecks your lips again.

“So um.. so this mean we’re together now or? I mean we can take it slow too, it’s no rush!”

“Y/n I have liked you for so long now I don’t think it’s possible to consider this as rushing. Do you want to be with me?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s all we need to know right?” You smile brightly at this.

“Yeah.. You’re right. We know how we feel about one another and that’s all that matters.”

#bts reaction #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #kim namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #reader x namjoon #rm x reader #reader x rm

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amyscascadingtabs · 5 years ago

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i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 4: i’ll crawl with you on hands and knees

read on ao3

read previous chapters

A medical process begins, bringing with it a rollercoaster of emotions.

may

“If this had been a crime scene,” Jake says, looking at the medication vials lined up on their meticulously cleaned kitchen table, “my first impression would be that the people in this home are drug dealers.”

“And if you’d been a better detective,” Amy counters, “you’d have done a quick search of the names to find out they’re fertility drugs.”

“Hey! I’m a great detective!”

She points to the engagement ring on her finger and then to herself. “But I’m the best detective. No take-backs.”

“If I’d known you’d be using my proposal speech against me six years later, I would have written it down first.”

She laughs, shaking her head and unfolding the instruction paper from their doctors to reread the information for the fifteenth time. If Amy had to do a theoretical exam tomorrow on how to administer these injections, she’d get a solid A+, but, gathering the actual courage to do it isn't something you can study for. She's feeling increasingly shaky at the thought.

It's been over a month since they made their decision. Getting insurance papers in order takes time, as does binder-making, as does confirming each micro-decision with the clinic. For an entire month, Amy's been itching with anticipation and nerves, and she’s both bursting with excitement and sighing with relief over feeling in control for the first time in seven months, but she’s also being struck by the realization of what she’s about to do. As many borderline-insane experiences as she’s lived through, she’s never done this before, and she’s clueless what to expect.

She reads through the instructions yet another time before she starts.

Jake doesn't look much more stable. He's eyeing her carefully, biting his lip as she prepares the injection, measures up the medication and twists the needle on with minute, precise movements.

“You look like a professional,” he comments on her focused expression, and she makes a doubtful grimace. “Are you sure you haven't done this before?”

“Shot hormones into my stomach? It’s a first.”

“Are you nervous?” It could have been a teasing question, a reason to make fun of her, but when she meets his eyes she sees only concern. It peels away the tough facade - which she was barely grappling onto as it was - instantaneously.

“I'm really nervous,” she says, feeling her heart thundering in her chest like it’s about to break through her skin, and he nods.

“Me too.”

“Do you think you could give me the shot?”

Jake blinks. “You want me to do it? I… are you sure, Ames?”

“Please?” She gives him a pleading look as he looks from the syringe to her and back again, twisting his hands in his lap. “At least the first time, before I know what it feels like?”

And we said we’d do this together, she opens her mouth as if to add, but the words feel superfluous. They’re a given, and from the way he reaches out his hand to gently hold hers, stroking his thumb over her wrist as he nods, she knows that he knows, too.

She folds the hem of her tank top to sit underneath her chest and grabs an alcohol wipe before there’s time for either of them to change their mind.

“I don’t like this,” Jake confesses as she gives him the syringe, quickly instructing him on the procedure another time. “It feels like I’m hurting you. ”

“You’re not.” She closes her eyes, grabbing the disinfected skin with both hands. “Just inject me.”

“Title of your sextape?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fair,” he says, and then she feels the quick pinch.

The injection burns. It’s better than she feared, but far from pleasant, and she tenses for the few everlasting seconds it takes before it's over and Jake presses a bit of gauze to the area.

“Wow,” he laughs, drawing a relieved breath when she opens her eyes again. “I can't believe I did that. I am so brave.”

She glares at him. “Excuse me?”

“Kidding, kidding.” He chuckles again before wrapping her in a tight hug. “You did great, babe.”

She can feel the liquid stinging beneath her skin. Despite the discomfort, Amy already prefers this over the frustration of the last seven months - at least it means they’re actively doing something. The physical pain is a drop in the ocean compared to the mental agony of endless disappointments she's gone through, and she’d choose it above the latter in a heartbeat.

Maybe, she lets herself think, a timid but golden glimmer of hope shining through the grey clouds of hesitance. Maybe this could actually work.

Jake kisses her cheek before his head moves lower. Just as she's about to ask what he thinks he's doing, she feels his lips brush against her skin, once, twice, a few inches from the injection place.

“Better?” He asks, and she manages a weak smile.

“Much.”

The second shot is easier than the first one, the third easier than the second. By the fourth night, she's gathered enough confidence to do the procedure all on her own when Jake has to stay late at work, and by the fifth night, she no longer winces at the stinging sensation.

It's absurd, she thinks as the burning slowly fades, the things you get used to.

She plans their schedule around level checks at the clinic, taking blood tests and doing ultrasounds while Leah happily lays a puzzle on the floor of the examination room. A nurse compliments the toddler’s skill and Leah shines up like the sun itself, and after Amy’s told her body’s reacting perfectly to the stimulating hormones, they both leave the clinic grinning. She’s in such a good mood, she can’t even bring herself to say no when her daughter points to the frozen yogurt place across the store and looks at Amy with the pleading puppy-eyes that are so hard to resist. She’s not too proud about breaking their rule of ice cream being a weekend treat, but she has to admit that watching Leah shine with pride as she makes varyingly successful attempts of feeding herself without spilling is both an awesome celebration and happiness boost.

Even without the level checks, she would have been able to tell the injections are taking. She’s sore, her head wrecks, and she feels bloated enough to consider changing into yoga pants several times a day. She’s exhausted in a way she hasn’t been since she had a newborn, nearly falling asleep at her desk in the afternoons and being nudged awake by a worried beat cop, and it takes every ounce of her willpower not to start crying herself when Leah has her third breakdown for the day over the disappearance of a puzzle piece. On day eight of injections, Amy falls asleep on the couch before it’s time to take them, and when Jake wakes her up there’s a part of her wishing he hadn’t.

“We could still change our minds and get a cat instead,” he suggests in a half-hearted attempt at a joke as she mumbles a curse when she feels the stinging. “Way fewer needles, just saying.”

“Please don’t tempt me right now,” she mutters. He laughs nervously before repeating the same action he’s taken to each time they do this together, leaning down and placing a feather-light kiss right above the injection area.

It’s transient, but for a second, she allows herself to think there’s a certain beauty to this process, too.

The night before their egg retrieval, she scratches that thought.

It’s the first evening in twelve days she’s not taking any injections. It should be a relief, a long-awaited and much well-deserved break after the previous night’s final trigger shot, but she’s too nervous about the next day to enjoy it. Jake’s working late - something about a time-sensitive lead he promised would be handled in a couple of hours - and Leah falls asleep with her head on Amy’s shoulder somewhere around their fourth reread of Guess How Much I Love You, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She brews a cup of green tea and goes to change into pajamas before sinking down on the couch to watch Jeopardy!, and she’s doing okay until she catches a proper glimpse of her body in the wardrobe’s full-length mirror and breaks down.

The bloated feeling isn’t just in her head. She’s swollen, looking three months pregnant for the wrong reasons, and it's painful on so many levels. She thinks it would have been fine if it’d been the sole notable difference, because a bit of temporary weight-gain rarely bothers her, but it’s not the worst thing. What makes her do a double-take is the bruises scattered across her lower abdomen, an uneven pattern of dark violet, red and yellow marks after the needles. The reflection in the mirror looks like it’s been beaten up, literally punched in the stomach with a knuckle-duster, and Amy feels as if she’s entirely separate from the person she sees.

This isn’t her.

This isn’t what she’s supposed to look like.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

She doesn’t feel brave or beautiful, doesn’t recognize even a shadow of a stubborn fighter in the reflection staring back at her. The only thing she sees is sheer exhaustion, a person tired of fighting for control over the uncontrollable, and it’s a haunting image nowhere close to how she’s used to seeing herself. She throws on an oversized NYPD sweatshirt and closes the wardrobe door in a swift moment before she can stare any longer, but it’s too late - the sight is etched on her memory, and the silent tears take several minutes to stop falling.

There’s no beauty in this process. If there was, surely she wouldn’t be feeling this way.

Amy doesn’t get much sleep that night. She’s tossing and turning, lying awake and staring at the ceiling between short bits of light slumber. When her alarm finally sounds, she feels less rested than before she went to bed. On top of that, she can't have coffee because of the anesthesia, and has to be satisfied with casting longing looks at Jake's takeaway Starbucks cup. She swears the paper mug is ogling her by the time they reach the clinic’s parking lot.

“Ames, I’m sure one sip won't matter if the alternative is you staring at it like a psychopath.”

“It's not a clear liquid. I'm not risking it.”

“Fine. But if you murder me for this, I will tell people I gave you the offer.” She snorts, the corners of her mouth twitching, and there's a look of pride on Jake's face when he realizes he’s made her smile. “How are you feeling? Aside from the coffee-abstinence?”

“Tired. Disappointed.”

“Ah, yes, something gave that away.”

“Not because of the coffee,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I mean of this whole thing. It's not at all what I was picturing when I suggested we’d have another baby.”

Jake doesn't reply immediately, twisting the cup’s plastic lid back and forth while he stares out the window, watching another couple enter the building with hands intertwined.

“I know it wasn't, babe.”

“I'm sorry I suggested fertility treatments,” she mumbles, and he looks at her with a curious countenance. “I bet it's not even going to work.”

“Hey, you don't know that yet.” He places a hand on her thigh, getting a bit of coffee foam on her jeans. “We’ve gotten this far, right? Shame to give up hope now.”

“The eggs could be bad quality. They might not fertilize, they might not implant. So many things could still go wrong.”

“Sheesh. Ever the optimist, aren’t you?” She glares at him, but he’s unbothered by her bitterness, a confident smile on his lips as he finishes the last of his coffee. “If you bet it's not going to work, I'll bet it will. Mind you, I have a history of winning most of our bets.”

“You do not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he laughs, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear and stroking her cheek. “Let’s just do it and see what happens, okay? You wanted to give this a try, we’re giving it a try.”

“You have to hold my hand.”

“I’ll hold your hand.”

“We’re going for coffee as soon as they release me.”

“I thought we were trying to save money?”

“We are going for coffee.”

“Okay, so non-negotiable. Cool.”

It might be the cup of coffee she finally gets to consume when they stop by Starbucks on the way, or that she’s feeling less like a hormone-inflated alien after the procedure, but Amy’s mood is much improved by the time they’re back home. For a few days, it’s all out of her hands. She can’t do anything but hold onto the thought of six eggs, less than ideal but more than the zero she feared, about to be fertilized and left to grow in perfect lab conditions for at least five to six days. On the one hand, she’s powerless, but on the other hand, it’s outside her realm of control, literally taking place outside of her body. In a certain sense, it's relieving.

She’s dizzy after the anesthesia. She claims she’s fine, because dizziness is nothing compared to the pain and crushing anxiety she felt before, but she stumbles over their doorstep and nearly loses her balance, so Jake takes a careful grip of both her shoulders as he leads her to their bed and helps her lay down.

“You should take a nap,” he whispers, stroking her hair as she gives him a faint smile.

“I’m not that tired.”

“I have to pick up our two-year-old from daycare in two hours.”

“On second thought I will be taking that nap.”

They end up taking it together. Jake’s arm is wrapped around her waist, their heads are resting so close together that the tips of their noses touch, and when she wakes up a punctual thirty minutes later, she wonders if it’s the first romantic thing they’ve gotten up to this month where needles haven’t been involved.

“If I get pregnant,” she whispers in his ear, daring to pronounce the word for the first time in weeks, “I promise you we’ll take an honest-to-god babymoon or something. Just the two of us on a beach somewhere.”

He responds with a loud snore, and it takes more of Amy’s self-control than it should not to laugh at him.

She must have both fallen asleep again and slept through Jake disentangling himself from her, because the next time she regains conscience, it’s to the feeling of her favorite three-feet-tall human climbing on top of her back while giggling uncontrollably.

“Carefully, bumblebee, I said carefully,” she hears Jake’s exasperated voice, and then a high-pitched complaint from her daughter as he lifts her off of Amy. “Most people like it when you wake them up more calmly.”

“It’s okay,” Amy says, sensing without opening her eyes that Leah's close to bursting out into tears. “Do you want to snuggle with me for a bit, Lee? You're invited too, Jake.”

“Oh, yeah, Lee, what do you think?”

“Go to the park,” the toddler insists, shaking her head. “Swinging!”

“If you cuddle with us in bed for two minutes, I will take you to the park after.”

“Swinging,” Leah repeats grumpily.

“But first cuddling?” Jake tries.

“Swinging!” Her expression softens, lower lip pouting and eyes widening like she's learned to do so masterfully. “Please?”

She can't yet pronounce the word correctly, so it comes out more like a pleath, but it's the cutest thing in the world and has both parents exchanging meaning looks, knowing they've already lost.

It must be Leah's lucky day, because there's a toddler swing free already when they get to the park. Amy thinks it must be her lucky day as well, because there's also a bench free with a perfect view of the swingset, meaning she can watch Jake and Leah play while she soaks up the afternoon sun. The toddler is squealing with joy, her excitement getting louder with each push of the swing. Jake’s asking her if she wants to go higher, urging her to hold on tight while he pushes the swing slightly higher than Amy would prefer, but Leah’s thrilled and Jake is beaming as he watches their daughter have the time of her life.

Amy doubts she’ll ever tire of watching the two of them interact. Part of her always knew he’d make an amazing father - despite his own doubts, she’s never wavered. Still, she could never have imagined just how present, loving and dedicated of a parent he would become, and she feels blessed to get to see it in action day after day. Although she wishes she was hanging out in the shadow and pushing a sleeping baby in a stroller, or feeling them move around inside her, she has this. She’ll always have this. Nothing can take the family she already has away from her, and as difficult as it is to feel grateful for anything after nearly two weeks’ worth of needles, she's indescribably thankful for them.

“Monkey!” Leah exclaims, pointing at a squirrel rushing between trees while Amy tries to feed her small pieces of dried fruit-bar. They’re taking a snack break to replenish their energy, but the toddler is distracted to say the least.

“That’s a squirrel, baby.”

“Monkey,” Leah repeats, pointing to another squirrel.

“Still a squirrel. Monkeys are bigger.”

“Also much less commonly found in New York,” Jake adds. “Presumably. I’ve never been sure about Hitchcock.”

“Monkeys!”

“Ames, did we ever teach her animals?”

“We must have. I distinctly remember reading those god-awful books about animals at the zoo over and over for three months.”

“Oh, right!” Jake lights up. “How could I ever forget your incredible dolphin voice? Truly haunting. You turned her against SeaWorld from the start, babe.”

“Shut up, your gorilla voice wasn’t much better.”

“Monkeys,” Leah repeats in a serious tone as if to remind them of the matter at hand, and then she’s almost up and chasing after another squirrel before Amy catches her and tickles her. She falls back against the picnic blanket, squirming to get away while she keeps laughing her infectious toddler laugh, and Amy’s trying hard to keep a poker-face but she’s overtired and relieved and so absolutely happy, it’s worthless. It’s mere seconds before all three of them are laughing uncontrollably, and for a moment, every bit of heartache she’s felt over the last days is cured.

The day before the transfer, they have to go in for a meeting to decide how many embryos to transfer. It’s an interesting discussion, with Amy and their doctor arguing in favor of one and Jake hung up on the idea that an increased chance of twins would be the coolest thing ever and they should do two, but they eventually end up making the decision to transfer one and freeze the remaining two embryos.

“Chicken,” Jake tells her when they’re leaving the clinic. “Two for the price of one, right?”

“You try being pregnant with one child before deciding you want to try two.”

“Fine,” he laughs. “So you think it’s going to stick, huh?”

Amy blushes. “Maybe? She did say they were high-quality.”

“I'm sure she'll give you a gold star if you ask.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Keep up the optimism,” he says, and the wide grin he gives her makes her want to follow his advice. “You know, in two weeks you might be pregnant.”

Hearing the words makes her heart flutter with joy, making her halt suddenly to wrap her arms around him, kissing him so hard it takes him by surprise. His hands wave, hesitating before they find their spot on her waist, but then he’s as wrapped up in it as she is. She cups his chin with one hand, stroking her thumb over the light stubble and pouring all of her cautious hope into this kiss, soaking him up, taking him in. The moment is short-lived, but it’s enough to bring out the spark she hopes they’ll never lose.

“What was that for?” He asks when she pulls away.

“Luck,” she smiles.

It feels like a monumental day when they pull into the parking lot the next morning. Amy supposes if everything goes well, it will be, and then she reflects upon how in that case, she'll always know the exact date and hour for when something could have started to grow.

Her first pregnancy had been such a shock in the beginning; not unplanned, but happening way faster than she’d anticipated. Amy wonders if she glorified the welcome surprise in her memories, romanticizing the feeling that this little person had, in a sense, chosen them. If their first round of IVF works, it's going to be a result of medicines and treatments and them being so proactive about wanting this, and although she places no value in the discrepancy, it feels clearly dissimilar. Equally as beautiful, but in an entirely different way.

She clings to the beautiful parts. The long hug Jake gives her before they go in because he can tell she's shaking, and how nice and considerate everyone who introduces themselves to them is. She focuses on Jake's hand squeezing hers throughout the short procedure, and on getting to see the quick flash happen on the ultrasound screen. The giddiness between them as they drive home after, the way he insists on tucking her into bed for her advised day of bed rest, and the buffet of snacks he runs and gets them.

Most of all, she clings to the monochrome printed picture of the embryo, looking like nothing but a tiny bubble against some light background but giving her hope all the same.

Please, she thinks before they turn out the light that evening, clutching the thin paper over her heart.

Please, please, stick.

june

If Amy found the days between egg retrieval and transfer were nerve-wracking, the ten days between her transfer and blood test prove to be yet more agonizing. She tries her best to stay distracted, letting the days pass by in a flurry of work shifts, toddler meltdowns and even a visit to Shaw’s Bar for a sense of normalcy on a night when Karen is babysitting. Charles gives her bottle of non-alcoholic beer meaning looks throughout the whole night, and she mumbles something about her low alcohol tolerance to which he just nods, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. She tries to ignore the persistent thought in the back of her head, reminding her his suspicions could technically be correct.

Hope is a dangerous thing, Amy thinks as she goes through the first pages of the diary she kept during her first pregnancy, desperately trying to remember what early signs she felt the first time. Hope makes you crazy. Hope is what’s making her overanalyze her every sensation and shift in mood until she barely trusts herself anymore. Is she experiencing the first hints of first-trimester fatigue, or has Leah just woken up at four-thirty a.m. for the last three mornings? Is she nauseous, or did she simply drink coffee on an empty stomach and forget to eat until early afternoon? Is her sense of smell heightened, or did Charles bring an extra eye-watering lunch today? The question marks are endless, and they make the ten days until her blood test feel eternal.

The day before the test, Leah and the rest of the kids in her daycare group put on a little show for the parents. It’s the sort of thing Amy always suspected parents lied about or greatly exaggerated, but it turns out watching her daughter proudly march in uneven circles while happily singing along to songs about numbers and letters all while waving to her parents is more than enough to ensure there are tears of pride in Amy’s eyes throughout the performance.

“You’re not going to stop crying, are you?” Jake teases her as they’re pulling out of the parking lot, Leah still singing a song about cows.

“I’m emotional,” she laughs through the tears, and she can tell from the way his eyes narrow that he’s thinking it, too - even more than usual.

The following night, Amy jolts awake at 3 a.m.

She tries to fall asleep again for a good thirty minutes, tossing and turning and snuggling closer to Jake to make herself calm down, but nothing works and she's as awake as if she’d just chugged a thermos of black coffee. She solves a crossword puzzle on the Times app on her phone, hoping for it to either distract her or tire her out, but it manages neither. She is physically unable to relax. There’s no way for her to stop thinking about how today’s the day, today’s the day they’ll find out whether or not the money, time and bruises led to somewhere, if they’ll be adding another member to their family in nine months, whether or not she’s finally pregnant.

There are five hours left until her scheduled appointment. It’s not a long time, not when Leah will be up in three hours, but it feels like forever. She wants to know now, and she’s not going to fall asleep again before she does.

One at-home test can’t hurt, she decides.

Grabbing her phone and a sweater Jake must have thrown on the floor yesterday, she crawls out of bed and pads into their modestly sized bathroom, praying there’s an unused test left somewhere.

It takes her a couple of minutes to find one. The package is stashed deep in their cupboard behind bottles of shampoo, its hiddenness former evidence of a moment’s weakness when she must have been unable to even see it. It’s been a long and frustrating eight months, but as Amy places the plastic stick down on the floor to let the result develop, washing her hands carefully before starting a timer and putting in contact lenses, she can’t help but wonder if their struggle has come to a much yearned-for end.

A small hourglass flashes on the little digital display, and her heart is full-on racing, pounding with each appearance and disappearance of the symbol.

Then, with thirty seconds left on the three-minute timer, the result appears and she swears fireworks go off outside.

There aren’t any actual fireworks, of course. To anyone else, it’s an ordinary night in early June, but to Amy, it’s the night of a forthright miracle. It’s an indignity there are no fireworks.

The screen reads Pregnant, 1-2 Weeks, and she feels happy tears form in her eyes as the relief floods her, a maelstrom of emotions coming at her without warning.

Pregnant.

They’re having another baby.

Her hand goes instinctively to her lower abdomen, where the bruises from the injections are still fading, and something unimaginably small but existing, has started to grow.

“Jake.” She shakes his shoulder as she repeats his name. “Jake. Babe.”

There's a low groan and a sigh, but he doesn't open his eyes. She shakes him carefully again.

“Jake, please wake up.”

“Hmm. No.”

“I promise you're going to want to wake up for this.”

He makes another gruff sound, somewhere between a grunt and a yawn. “S’the middle of the night. S’ anything wrong?”

“No, no. The opposite,” she says, and he looks at her for a second before his eyes fall shut again.

“What d’you mean?”

She leans closer, kissing the back of his neck before she whispers the words. “Babe, I'm pregnant.”

“What?” He sits up straight so quickly, Amy almost flies back on the bed as she loses her balance. “Wait - how d'you know - what?”

She laughs, because she's barely believing it either, and hands him the minutes-old test so he can see for himself. “I couldn't sleep, so I took one to see, and… it's positive.”

“Oh my god,” he blinks, twisting the test in his hands while a wide grin takes shape on his lips, his expression morphing from sleep-deprived toddler parent to overjoyed child on Christmas morning. “Oh my god, Ames.”

“I know!”

“This is - we're having another baby?”

“Yeah! It worked!”

“I can’t believe it.” He shakes his head, and then he wraps her in a tight hug while pressing kisses to her cheeks, her neck, her shoulder, every spot he can reach. “You did it, babe.”

“You helped.”

“Eh, barely. You were the one who took all those shots.”

“I did,” she grimaces. “They were worth it, though.”

“We’re having a baby,” he whispers, and the smile on her lips grows impossibly wider.

“We’re having a baby.”

It’s dusky inside their bedroom, but the world has never felt brighter.

Neither of them gets more sleep that night. All they can do is lay next to each other, watch the sun rise through the window and repeat their shock and immeasurable happiness to one another.

They’re having another child, and they are going to be the two-kid-family she always pictured. She is going to experience the few magical parts of pregnancy and times with a newborn she couldn't accept never experiencing again, Leah will have a sibling to grow up next to and possibly an automatic best friend for life. For the last few months, Amy's been scared to death it wouldn’t ever happen to them again, and now she's blessed with the knowledge it will.

She's not broken. Her body can still do this, albeit with a bit of help to get there, but it can and it is, and she feels like the luckiest woman in the world.

It's the first time she's purely confident when they park outside the fertility doctor. A quick little blood test to confirm what she already knows to be true, and she can move on with her life, pregnant, and put all this behind her.

“Did you take a home test?” The friendly nurse asks as she adjusts the tight band around Amy’s upper arm. Amy’s not even making an effort to hide her proud smile.

“Maybe,” she confesses, and it makes the young woman chuckle.

“Congratulations.”

The results will take a couple of hours, she's informed, and the clinic will call and leave a voicemail when her numbers are in. The screen lights up when she's in the middle of a conversation with Detective Alvarado later in the afternoon, and it takes a lot more self-control than it should for Amy to not instantly reach for her phone. The last hours of her workday seem to stretch forever, and by the time she meets up with Jake in the precinct’s garage to listen to the message, she's bursting with excitement and joy.

He’s not much better, looking at her with the heart-eyes that still make her blush as she gets into the passenger seat. The happiness is infectious, so she leans over to kiss him a few seconds longer than she'd deem appropriate for technically being inside the workplace.

“I was thinking we should celebrate with pizza tonight,” he says when they break it off. “Both because well, pizza, and also because I couldn’t have pizza at home for months last time you were pregnant or you’d be sick. I figure I need to take my chance while I can.”

“Planning ahead.” Amy raises an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

“Well, I’m a super-experienced dad now, right?” He leans back in the seat, crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m going to have two kids! That’s grown-up for realz.”

“As opposed to having one?”

“I’m just saying it’s next level,” he remarks and it makes her laugh. “Let's hear the voicemail, shall we?”

She nods and reaches for his hand before pressing play on the voicemail recording.

It only takes the few seconds their nurse takes to say who she is and why she’s calling for Amy to realize something is wrong.

It’s in the worried tone, the hesitant atmosphere emanating from the speakers, and it feels like her heart has stopped dead in her chest when she hears it.

“So you’re in a bit of a gray area,” the nurse explains, pronouncing each word with great care. “Your level showed up at a 13. As you know, any hcG level above 25 is pregnant and anything below 5 is not. Anything in between needs a retest.”

Jake squeezes her hand harder, and she can sense his eyes on her as if he’s trying to read her reaction. She tries to squeeze back but finds she can’t move her fingers or turn her face, can’t do anything but stare straight ahead with her lips pursed.

“This could, of course, be nothing and your pregnancy could just be slow-starting,” the message continues, each word still being spoken as slowly. “But since we would prefer to see your levels above 50 to be certain, you’ll have to come in for a retest in two days to see if they’ve increased.” The nurse sighs. “I am so sorry about this trouble. You two take care and I’ll see you again soon.”

There’s a click and a dial tone as the message ends, and they’re left with a silence that seems to weigh tons.

She notices her tears first when Jake wipes them away with the pad of his thumb, his hand warm against her cheek.

“It’s just slow-starting, babe. The test said you’re pregnant.”

“Not pregnant enough, apparently.”

“You don’t know that yet,” he says, decisively. “Our kids are stubborn as hell. It’ll be okay.”

“You really think so?”

“I do.” The hand still intertwined with hers squeezes harder again. It’s an effort, but she manages to squeeze his back. “Somehow, we always end up okay.”

She nearly makes a snarky comment about death threats and witness protection, trials and prison sentences, but stops herself. It’s not comparable, and she knows the Amy who stayed up all night working on her boyfriend’s case before crying herself to sleep in the early hours of the morning would probably have been content with never having any kids at all if it meant Jake could come back home, but times have changed since then. It doesn’t matter that she knows they’ve been through worse, because the level of pain and worry still feels unbearable when they’re in the thick of it, the letdowns and disappointments so present here and now.

“I hope so,” she whispers and lets his warm smile give her an ounce of comfort, a sliver of sparkling hope. “Can we go pick up Lee now? I just… need to think about something else, for a while.”

“Yeah, of course.” His lips brush against her forehead for a second. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“It’ll be okay, Amy.”

She nods, undecided as to whether or not she believes him.

She knows the next day must pass, because she wakes up two mornings later when it's time for the retest, but there aren't any memories there when she tries to think back at. It's like she's been sleepwalking for the entire day. Nothing feels real except the overwhelming worry and the voice in her head repeating you’re worthless, a failure, your body can't even do this.

She peels away the skin on her lips and fingertips until both are bleeding in an attempt to feel something. She doesn't remember this, either, but there are bandaids on her fingers when she wakes up the next morning and her lips are all cracked even though it's summer.

“You know it’s not over yet,” Jake mumbles as they’re waking up and she gets stuck on the edge of the bed, unable to tear her eyes away from the embryo picture on her nightstand.

It looks like a foggy soap bubble, she thinks, and wonders how she could pour so much hope, love and blind faith into something that might never make it past the very first steps of existence.

She nods and abstains from telling him what she’s really thinking.

It feels like it is.

There’s a dull ache in her stomach as she takes the blood test. At first, she chalks it down to nerves and that all she could get down for breakfast was coffee and half of an apple, but as the pain level increases and begins imitating an all too familiar sensation, she realizes what it could be. There aren’t any tampons in her bag, so she curses her past, temporarily optimistic, self for not putting new ones there the last time she ran out, and drives to the nearest CVS.

When they were starting the procedure, she was worried and desperate, clinging onto the little bit of faith that came with knowing they were at least being proactive about it. After the transfer, she was cautiously optimistic, reading into each sign and even daring to feel hopeful about the outcome. Now, she’s just numb. She can’t think, can’t feel, can’t react to what’s happening around her if so somebody slapped her in the face. Amy has lived her life being anxiously alert to every shifting detail around her, but as she browses the CVS aisles in a coma, she’s never felt more cut off from reality.

She does note how the cashier in the checkout has a pronounced baby bump. It feels like a sick joke.

The joke continues, because she’s just stepped out of the building when her phone vibrates with the call from the fertility doctor’s office.

“Amy Santiago.”

“Hi, yes.” It’s a different nurse than for the previous call, Amy notes, but the serious tone is the same. “I’m calling with your results from today’s blood test.”

She bites her lip, tasting blood from the already broken skin. “They’re not good, are they?”

“Your hCG was down to an 11.”

“Oh.”

“Unfortunately, it means you’re going to lose this pregnancy.”

“Yeah. I… figured.”

“I truly am so sorry about this,” the nurse assures her. “If it’s any comfort, know this means the pregnancy wasn’t ever viable, and your body simply did what’s best and terminated it before anything ever fully implanted. You’ll possibly get a bit of a more painful period, but after, nothing should stop you from trying again as soon as you feel ready.”

“Okay.”

“I know that might not make it feel better, but this is not uncommon, and it’s not something you could have prevented, either. Sometimes it isn’t meant to be.”

“No, I understand,” Amy manages to get out, and the nurse hums at the other end of the phone.

“You can take as much time as you need, and then get back to us about whether you’d like to start another cycle. Does it sound okay?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect, then. Take care,” the voice advises, and two repeated beep-sounds signal the end of the call.

There aren’t any benches nearby. Thus, when Amy feels her legs give way in the next second, all she can do is slide down until she’s sitting down on the sidewalk outside the store, her back against the wall and her arms around her knees as the panic crashes over her. Her lungs feel tight, getting tighter as she gasps for air between the ugly crying that’s slipping out of her before she can control it. Although she’s cried her fair share of tears in the last few weeks, it’s been a long time since she cried like this, forceful and broken in a wounded animal-type of way that earns her weird glances from the people walking past, but she resolutely shakes her head when a stranger tries to come closer. With trembling hands she manages to press the favorites button, calling Jake, and then she tries to take a deep breath and force air into her lungs while she waits for him to pick up.

“Ames?”

She can’t get out a single word before her voice breaks. Instead of a comprehensible pair of sentences comes a blubbering string of words, not one of them sounding the way they’re supposed to, and she can hear his confusion as he repeats her name in a questioning tone but she can’t explain. Her head hurts, her lungs hurt, and hearing the sudden worried edge in Jake’s voice hurts.

“Where are you? Send me your location.” She stutters a vague description. “Okay, stay where you are and I’ll be there in ten.”

It ends up only being seven minutes before he’s kneeling in front of her, still wearing his badge and all out of breath as he helps her stand up and leads her to their car without asking a single question of what she’s doing here or what’s happened. She figures he understands - or at least, has drawn the conclusion from her wrecked appearance. She makes several attempts of opening her mouth, trying to apologize for her shattered state as the traces of her eye makeup are smudging on her cheek and she’s fighting for breath, crying so hard it feels like she’s going to throw up from the mix of snot and hysteria stuck in her throat, but it's impossible to speak.

“Ames, can you try to breathe for me, please? In for three and out for three.” He’s holding both of her hands as he guides her, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over her knuckles. She manages to hold her breath for two seconds, shaking as she exhales, and he nods. “Good, you’re doing great. Try another time.”

They go on like that for several minutes. Eventually, the vigorous bawling calms into a quieter sobbing, and she nearly collapses into his arms as he strokes her hair, whispering soft I love yous to which she can only respond with more crying.

“Let’s go home,” he suggests, his voice stable and solid even as everything is crumbling around them.

“Are you sure you don’t have to go back to work?”

“Yeah. Rosa owed me one.”

“Did you call Holt?”

“I will.” His lips brush against her neck. “Later.”

They're laying on the bed, Amy being the little spoon for once. The waves of intense panic have quietened down thanks to exhaustion, and she's breathing properly, in and out as Jake holds her. Rays of sunlight are shining through the curtains, alerting her to the beautiful summer’s day outside, and she wishes Jake would close them. She doesn’t want to be reminded of the outside world. It means nothing to her, anyway.

They should have been celebrating, making sure to get off work early, picking up Leah from daycare and going for celebratory ice-cream in the middle of the week. Now they’re here, her wrapped in an extra blanket because she couldn’t stop shivering, Jake playing with her hair in a fruitless attempt of making her feel better. He’s made her coffee and a sandwich, too, insisting she needed to refill her energy after the panic attack, but she hasn’t managed more than a couple of bites. The picture of the embryo she’s about to lose still sits on her nightstand, and she’s tried but she can’t stop staring at it.

“I’m so stupid,” it slips out of her without thinking, and Jake freezes.

“You’re not stupid, Ames.”

“I really thought it was going to last,” she continues, unaffected by his protest. “I really did.”

“So did I.”

She ignores that too, finally tearing her focus away from the picture and rolling on her back so she’s looking up at the ceiling instead. “You know it barely counts as a miscarriage at this point?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s called a chemical pregnancy because it didn’t get far enough to be visible on an ultrasound. Chemical. Like it’s just… an error.” She snivels. “That’s what I feel like. An error.”

“You’re not an error,” he says, in a low voice like it’s hurting him to hear her say it. “We’ll try again.”

“How many times, Jake? How many damn times do we have to try again?”

“We said two before we reevaluate - “

“I know what we said,” she cuts him off. “But I’m exhausted.”

“We could take a break?”

“No, we’re trying again.”

“Okay.” His fingers move over her cheek, cupping her jaw and pulling her towards him so they’re face to face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She swallows the tears that seem to be on their way back. “I can't believe I thought it was real.”

“It felt real.”

“So real,” she breathes, and he hugs her tighter.

She's gotten so tired of crying.

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction #iwthwy #coming through with a little distraction from the election chaos i guess #i just wanted to get this chapter out there lol

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