#i texted her last night asking if she was ever able to cop

[grimandghoulish]

.

[crystaljins]

Stars above | 01

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 3.3K

Synopsis: Your nagging roommate is desperate for a third person to help meet the rent and your university just so happens to be running a fully-funded government grant for anyone who signs up to participate in the Intergalactic Exchange program.

Having an alien for a roommate is just asking for all kinds of trouble, though.

Alien!Taehyung x reader

Rating: Teens

Notes: So here it is! The beginning of the end! The long awaited alien!tae drabble series. 

For many of you, you may have heard that this is my last bts fic. It’s a bit of a cop out to do a drabble series as my last ever fic but it’s got 11 parts and I think it’s got enough content and a character arc to be satisfying, and I feel it’s fitting that I started this little blog with a taehyung x reader fic and I’m finishing it with one.

Thank you guys so much for the last few years and I look forward to going on one last journey with all of you. Without any further ado, I present to you the fic!

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

You’re suspicious from the moment your roommate shows you the flyer over breakfast one morning. It’s brightly coloured, with information neatly categorised across the glossy surface and your university’s insignia proudly nestled against the corner. 

“Planet BTS-0713 exchange program?” You read out loud, through a mouthful of cereal. She nods enthusiastically, still brandishing the paper like it has the recipe to world peace printed across it. She seems absolutely smitten by the idea but you remain skeptical; after all, while Nayeon has a list of endearing characteristics, altruism unfortunately does not make the top 100.

“Doesn’t it sound exciting? And they don’t just cover our rent, we get extra since it’s part of that intergalactic-peace treaty-agreement thing they’re trying to establish.” She explains. Ah, there it is. The ulterior motive behind her sudden desire for an alien roommate. “It would really help after Yura skipped town last month. I know you’re struggling too.”

You pause, swallowing your cereal contemplatively. As skeptical as you are, there’s a strong element of truth to Nayeon’s words. Yura had always been a little bit of a dodgy roommate- she’d always get a bit weird about paying rent and seemed to think she shouldn’t have to pay the same amount because her room was the furthest from the bathroom, not to mention you’re sure she’d been secretly stealing your nutella despite her insistence that there would be strictly no splitting of groceries. But she’d hit her peak when you and Nayeon had returned home from a night out to find her packed and moved out, the day before rent was due. Of course, none of your calls or desperate texts came through. She’d literally vanished off the face of the planet and the two of you had had to scrounge together your savings to pay her share, and were now struggling to maintain a three-person apartment on the income of just two people. Financially, the government exchange program would help massively, especially since you haven’t been able to find a third roommate in nearly two months now. 

“I’d be keen if it were just a matter of giving them a place to stay.” You finally admit. “But the reason the government offers so much compensation is because you’re basically their legal guardian while they’re on this planet.” You inform her. “The extra money is allowance for showing them around and you’re supposed to help them adjust to all their classes and the transport systems and culture here. You can barely keep a goldfish alive- I had to bury Sergeant Sprinkles the first through to the fourth in Jin’s flower box on the roof. He’s getting suspicious. How will you manage an entire alien life form?” 

Nayeon wrinkles her nose at the thought, but then she steels herself. 

“It’ll be fine!” She insists. “They’re different to goldfish. And Sergeant Sprinkles the fifth has been alive for nearly two weeks now! Besides, I’d really love having a little exchange student to show the best places to get burgers and where the cheapest tequila in town is! Plus,” she glances from side to side as if there’s anyone to overhear you in your apartment at 8 o’clock in the morning. “I hear that they’re just really attractive versions of humans. I’ve been so lonely since Hoseok and I broke up. ” She confesses. And there it is- the final confirmation that altruism is the furthest motive from Nayeon’s mind. With a sigh, you gather your bowl and shuffle over to the sink. In truth, Nayeon has a way of getting her way. And it’s not like a third roommate will magically appear. Your bank account is zooming dangerously close to that dreaded elliptical number.

“Ok. If you’re really that determined.” You relent. You pause midway through your scrubbing of the bowl to point accusingly at her. “But you’re taking full responsibility for our alien roommate! If I hear a single complaint then you’re on garbage duty for a month.”

Nayeon nods eagerly and obediently before throwing her arms around your neck in excitement.

“Oh, thank you (Y/N)!” She cries. “This is going to be so fun!” She promises.

++

 Despite Nayeon’s promise, having an alien roommate is, unsurprisngly, not fun. Kim Taehyung is a nice enough guy- curious, with a sweet disposition and wide smile. And he certainly lives up to to rumours of the good looks of his fellow aliens. 

It’s just that he’s well... he really is an alien. You’ve never met someone quite so eccentric. 

Admittedly, he hadn’t arrived in your apartment with too much fanfare- you were working on an essay in your room and Nayeon had lead him into the apartment, narrating the layout of your apartment loudly enough that it filters into your room and you know he’s arrived. 

Other than a wide smile over dinner and a cheerful introduction, you had tried not to interact with him too much- you hadn’t wanted to adopt yet another of Nayeon’s responsibilities that she didn’t follow through. And judging by her constant swooning, you had nothing to worry about. 

But the next day is really when his alien nature had struck. You had come out of your bedroom to find him in hysterics over breakfast and Nayeon waving a spatula around in confusion. After much probing and hysteric crying from Taehyung, you had eventually discerned the source of his distress; Nayeon had made him scrambled eggs for breakfast. 

That in itself wasn’t the issue- scrambled eggs are one of the few dishes that Nayeon is actually good at. She’s mastered the art of a hangover breakfast and scrambled eggs is her specialty. No, the issues lay with Taehyung’s discovery of what eggs are. 

“You EAT their FOETUSES!” He had cried, eyes swollen and nose snotty. An interesting thing to note is that people from his planet have differently coloured tears to you guys- shimmering blue lines had traced down his cheeks and the effect would be rather hauntingly beautiful if it weren’t for the fact that even on Planet BTS-0713, their nose runs when they cry. 

“Stop crying!” Nayeon had cried back. “It’s not a FOETUS the eggs are UNFERTILISED.”

It had taken an emergency trip to the grocery store to buy vegan-friendly groceries for Taehyung (and obviously you had to do it since Nayeon wouldn’t know a vegetable if it slapped her in the face) and a bottle of strawberry milk (although you chose to withold the information of where milk comes from) to calm down his hysterics. 

And then there’d been the time you’d had to sit with him in the emergency room because he’d watched a documentary on his planet about the pets that humans keep and had tried to pet a squirrel. Apparently the documentary had confused squirrels with dogs and he had gotten bitten. Luckily, he’d had his rabies shot before he came to earth but you’d still had to hold his hand while the doctor cleaned his wound and your favourite shirt was stained blue because he’d cried onto it. 

Probably the last straw, for Nayeon at least, is when the two of you find him throwing up into the sink. She’d left her Urban Decay Naked Ultraviolet Eyeshadow Pallette open on the coffee table because she likes to do her makeup in the living room even though you keep telling her the landlord will get mad if she stains the carpet, and Taehyung had mistaken them for a snack they sell on his home planet. 

“Can we send him back?” She had begged you, a far cry from his first night where she’d insisted on sitting next to him the whole night and personally served him dinner. He’d only managed to crunch through one of the slabs of makeup before it had occurred to him that he’d made a mistake but the impression left by his teeth tells the story well enough. 

“He’s not a toy. You can’t just return him because you didn’t think things through.” You scold, hands on your hips. “Have you even taken him out once since he’s been here? What happened to taking full responsibility?”

She pouts, folding her arms and releasing an annoyed huff. 

“(Y/N),” she tells you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen upon her face. “He ate my makeup pallette. Do you see this? This is a bite mark.” She says, brandishing the pallette for good measure. “You can’t seriously expect me to spend time with him.”

You groan. You should have known it would come to this when you agreed to let him stay. After all, you had just finished cleaning Sergeant Sparkles the fifth’s tank not an hour before because it had gone bright green and Nayeon had insisted that he was dead and that there was no point in cleaning the tank because she’d just be traumatised by his dead body. The clean had revealed him not only to be alive, but also possibly slightly mutated due to the near radioactive levels of faeces floating in his tank. She hadn’t managed to keep the goldfish alive for more than two weeks; you’d had to take over for her, like you usually do.

“One night.” You say. “Give him one chance, and do your job once. If you don’t end up enjoying it, then you can talk to the manager of the program.” 

She cheers in relief. 

“Thank you! Also can you help me fill out this compensation form? I want them to cover the cost of this pallette.”

++

You should clarify: Nayeon is a great friend and roommate. She never leaves dirty dishes in the sink and she usually remembers to ask your permission before having friends over. She’s always happy to offer outfit advice, and every now and then she’ll even give you lifts into uni because you hate finding parking. And even with all her personality quirks, she’s a peaceful roommate and you’d even go so far as to call her one of your closest friends. 

What she is not, however, is reliable. In any way, shape, or form. You can never ask her favours because she’ll forget and on the rare occasions you do need something from her, you have to send her a reminder text the day before and on the day of, stick sticky notes with reminders on her bedroom door, the fridge, her car keys, the front door and on her shoes and even then she’ll still sometimes forget.

So really, it’s on you for being surprised when she stumbles into the apartment the next night, drunk and without Taehyung in tow. 

“You went clubbing?” You cry, catching her before she careens face-first onto the coffee table. She squints at you and hiccups a little. “For his first night out on earth?”

“You told me to do something fun.” She slurs at you accusingly. You grimace, because you had said that when the two of them had left earlier in the night. You should have realised that that’s the coat Nayeon wears when she wants to hide the fact that she’s dressed to go to a party and not her friend’s place for a study night during exams. 

“Fine. Ok. But where’s Taehyung?” You demand. You look around for a sign that he was coming up a little later than Nayeon, but your scan confirms it; the hallway outside your apartment is decidedly lacking the presence of your intergalactic guest. 

Nayeon frowns, and her face wrinkles up in the way that it does when she’s thinking very hard. 

“We got separated during the night.” She recounts slowly. “And then I couldn’t find him so I assumed he made his own way home.”

You nearly drop her in horror. You grab her by the shoulders. 

“Nayeon!” You cry urgently. “He’s an alien! He can’t find his own way home. He asked me what a train is yesterday! And I’m still trying to convince him cars aren’t sentient after you made him watch that weird disney movie the other day!” 

She gasps in drunken offence. 

“Cars is a classic.” She insists. You’re too busy to answer, your heart sinking as you think about quirky, crybaby Taehyung, lost in the middle of the city and completely naive to the ways of Earth people. Not to mention that a lot of people on Earth are still hostile to people from his planet. You’d been so insistent that this not be another instance of you taking over for Nayeon and becoming a glorified babysitter yet again that you’d let Taehyung bear the brunt of your negligence. No matter how unreliable Nayeon is, in the end, you’d been the one to agree. You’d relented because you didn’t want to deal with her incessant nagging, and you’d ignored every sign that Taehyung needed more help and support than what Nayeon was willing to give him. 

And now he’s lost in a random Earth city with no money and no phone, abandoned by the closest thing to family he has on this entire planet. 

You feel like your heart has been pummelled with a sledgehammer and it is in that exact moment that you decide that it’s time to take responsibility for your actions. 

And to take responsibility for Taehyung.

You just manage to pry the name of where Nayeon had left Taehyung, and then you grab your keys and sprint out the door, still in your loungewear and house slippers. 

++

Taehyung regrets signing up for this exchange program. It was supposed to be his chance, to “prove himself”. All his friends and family had all insisted that he was too much of an airhead to ever make anything of himself and that he wouldn’t last two seconds on a cutthroat place like Earth. He’d just been foolishly stubborn- there had been something magical and enticing about the cultures and the landscapes shown in the documentaries that aired on his home planet. He’d thought he could handle it; how wrong he has been. 

For one thing, his roommates, his supposed legal guardians on earth, hate him. Nayeon hadn’t stopped complaining about the makeup incident for twelve hours now, and you had been quiet and recluse in the same way you always seem to be. Not to mention he’d overheard your conversation the day before- he had one chance to prove to Nayeon that he could live up to the fun alien roommate ideal she had in her head or he’d be homeless and stranded until the end of his exchange. 

Not that he’s even sure he wants to continue this exchange. Between the barbaric food (they eat unborn chicken babies!) and the unfriendly culture, Earth seems like the most horrible, primitive, cruel society to exist across all thirty galaxies and planet systems with intelligent life forms. He should have gone on exchange to MonX instead. 

At least then he wouldn’t be stuck here, in the rain, cold and wet and alone. He’s not sure where Nayeon went- she’d been quick to ditch him the second they made it inside the doors of the “fun place” she’d promised to take him to. Said “fun place” turned out to just be some horrible, noisy, crowded, dark room where humans seemed to lose their minds and drink a substance that sounded suspiciously like a potent neurotoxin when Nayeon had described it to him. He’d been kicked out soon after, and with no way of contacting Nayeon, he’d decided to wait out on the side of the road. Only, then a lady had come up to him and slapped him, unprompted, accusing him of being a “filthy space demon” and he’d been quick to try and find a new corner to loiter in and wait for Nayeon to take him home. 

It’s been a few hours now and there’s no sign of her. It’s also been raining steadily for at least an hour now and he’s soaked through and chilled to the bone. He feels stupid and childish when the hot tears start to trickle down his face but he’s scared and alone. 

He’s about to dial the “sos” alert they had given him for strict emergencies when he’d first arrived on this planet when he hears it. 

It’s difficult to discern through the steady stream of rain but it definitely sounds like his name. He squints forward, and he makes out a figure racing through through the rain towards him.

As the figure draws nearer, he’s able to identify it- it’s you. You’re sprinting desperately through the rain, still dressed in what he’s come to recognise as your house clothes, with your house slippers still on, soaked and muddied. 

He watches, bewildered, as you skid to a stop before him. Your hair and clothes are soaked through and you’re completely out of breath. 

“Are you ok?” You gasp, between pants. You double over, trying to gather yourself, and he just stares. When he doesn’t respond, you try again. “Are you hurt? Gosh, she didn’t even leave you an umbrella! I told Nayeon to check the weather before you left. And the bouncer at the club told me a drunk woman slapped you?” You crouch before him, examining the tender skin of his cheek which has probably gone a soft purple thanks to the swelling from the angry woman’s earlier slap. “Taehyung!” You call urgently again. With your fingers pressed into his cheeks, he experiences the rush of emotions coursing through you- panic, worry, guilt. It’s for him, he realises with a start. It’s a shock to realise that the standoffish, quiet girl who had a knack for acting like he didn’t exist and scolding her roommate was capable of this level of distress on another person’s behalf. And with the prolonged contact of your fingers to his cheek, the sensation only grows to the point that he’s baffled that anyone, let alone you, could feel like this towards a random alien they hardly knew.

It’s enough to shake him out of his stupor. It’s a bit embarrassing to say, but you’ve genuinely left him at a loss for words. He doesn’t know if it’s the way you’ve clearly raced straight from your apartment to get him, or if it’s the sheer relief at not being stuck on the side of the road on a random planet light years away from his actual home. But whatever it is, something peaceful settles within him. All the lonely days, the crippling embarrassment from silly errors, the homesickness, melts away at the sight of you, soaked in the rain and genuinely concerned for his wellbeing. 

He drops his head onto your shoulder, which is still warm despite the icy chill of the rain, and he’s crying before he knows it. 

He doesn’t really mean to spill his guts out to you, but one of the most valued things on his home planet is companionship, and he’d been sorely lacking in that since coming here. But he feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders by the time he finishes. At some point during his rant, you’d wrapped your arms carefully around him and as the bare skin of your neck tickles his cheek he feels a rush of something through his body, though he’s not sure whether it’s from you or from him. It’s an unfamiliar emotion- one that feels warm and sweet, almost fond, but tinged with hesitation and concern. 

“I’m... sorry.” You finally say. “I didn’t realise it had been that bad. I’ll... I’ll try harder.” You promise. 

And when he pulls away and gazes into your eyes, he belatedly realises that you have warm eyes. Despite your aloof and sometimes grumpy nature, the way you regard him is gentle, and sweet, directly contrasting your supposed personality. But, glimpsing that, he knows from that moment that things are gonna be better. 

You lead him back to your car with the promise of dry clothes and a warm dinner at home, and Taehyung finally feels like maybe this exchange won’t turn out to be that awful. 

[suckitsurveys]

Are any of your friendships on a fine line? No. One just kind of ended though. I feel a little shitty about it but this girl did NOT respect my boundaries and I tried talking to her about it several times and she refused to listen so I just kind of stopped talking to her and she finally got the hint and deleted me off of all social media.

If I search your room will I find birth control? No.

Do you expect any of your ex’s to call or text you? Nope.

Have you ever witnessed a birth? Yes, my older niece’s. It was wild.

Where’s your favorite place to be when you feel depressed? With Mark and our kitties.

Are you currently looking forward to tomorrow? Nothing really. It’ll just be one day closer to the girls trip we’ve been planning for a year.

When was the last time you held someone’s hand? Yesterday.

Have you ever faked sick? Oh yeah.

Do you wear hoodies to bed? Not hoodies, I’d feel like I was being choked. But I’ve worn crew necks to bed before.

Are you currently wearing jeans? Yes.

Do you buy eggnog around the holidays? Why is this the second survey in like 4 days that’s asked me about eggnog?? Anyway, we usually get some.

Have you gone to a coffee shop within the past week? [i.e. Starbucks] I don’t think I have.

Would you like to be able to read thoughts? If I could control it sure.

Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Nah.

Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? I’m not sure.

Do you think baseball is a dying professional sport in America? Definitely not in my family.

Does playing the guitar make a guy more attractive? Eh. Depends on the guy.

Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes.

What does your hair look like at the moment? I HATE the color SO much but I didn’t want to dye it and have it fade right away in the sun/chlorine.

Are you mad right now? No, just tired.

Who did you spend your summer with last year? Mostly my family and friends.

Did you eat a cookie today? No.

Have you heard of wreck this journal? Yes, I have one somewhere.

Do you know any one who lives in California? Yes.

Have you ever been told you were a good writer? Yes.

What do you put on your baked potatoes? Butter and sour cream for sure. Sometimes chives and cheese.

Have you ever been on a farm? Yes.

Who are the last three texts/dms you received from? Margo, Lolly, Mark.

What are you listening to? Nothing.

Are you one to take naps? Nope. They make me feel gross.

Did you ever have braces? Nope.

Have you kissed anyone in the last five days? Yes.

Are you afraid of flying? No. It makes me a little uneasy, sure, but overall I don’t mind it.

Do you have freckles? On my arms.

Do you have plans for today? Work and then I have to finish cleaning my dad’s to prepare for my friends staying there this week with me until we leave for the Dells on Friday.

Would you rather date someone five years older or five years younger than you? My husband is 5 years older than me.

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? He’s sleeping or just getting up.

If you had to live off one type of fruit, which would you pick? Probably avocado.

What were you doing at 7:45AM this morning? It hasn’t hit that quite yet lol.

What was the last thing you drank? Iced Coffee.

Where did you get the shirt your wearing? Torrid.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? Nope, I have work at 6 am.

How often do you drink Monster? Never, I don’t like how energy drinks taste.

Are you easy to get along with? Yeah.

Are you short? 5'2".

Can you ever get enough of mac ‘n’ cheese? Nope, I love mac n cheese.

Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? Nope.

Do you have trust issues? Yes, in that certain people have let me down time after time when I’ve asked them to take care of something or help me with something.

Is there someone you want to let go of? My fucking brother in law but unfortunately I’m stuck with him.

Do you have any regrets? Eh.

Has anyone ever called the cops on you? Yes.

How old are you? 34.

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? I did actually. Margo and I were chatting on twitter until we fell sleep.

Do you go to church every Sunday? Nope, I never go.

Can you recall the last time you liked someone? Right now.

Do you like your height? I’m fine with it. It’s never negatively impacted my life.

Is the last person of the opposite sex you texted single? He is not. He’s married to me.

Could you go a week without brushing your teeth? I have before, depression is fun y’all.

What day is it? Monday.

Are you usually awake at midnight? Not usually. I tend to pass out between 10pm-11pm on work nights. On weekends I’ll usually be up until at least midnight.

Does it get really cold where you live? Yes.

When you get home from school / work do you change into your pjs right away? My pants and bra usually come right off lol.

Have you ever been peer pressured to smoke pot? I wasn’t pressured into it, no.

Have you ever played the game Sims 3? Nope.

What is the temperature currently in the town you live in? 64F.

Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Rarely. This was actually in another survey I did recently too. Who is making these? Lol. Anyway, I will drink it with a PB&J or Oreos or something every once in a while.

If you don’t have one already, would you consider getting an iPhone? Nope.

What year were you born in? 1989.

[theunforgottenforgotten]

"Remember"

I still remember the way you smiled at me for the first time we ever met. I still remember when you told me your name. I still remember your favorite song when I first ever asked you. I still remember sneaking cigarettes to you at our job for part of your birthday gift. I still remember the first time we hung out. I still remember when I asked you to the dance. I still remember you telling me what your family said about me for the first time ever. I still remember your suit that matched my dress.

I still remember when you asked me to be yours. I still remember our first kiss. I still remember our first hug. I still remember all of our firsts together. I still remember when we first had dinner together. I still remember what it was. I still remember what our restaurant was. I still remember which booth was ours. I still remember what your favorite drinks were. I still remember your nickname for me. I still remember our drives together.

I still remember the first time you let me try it. I still remember the first time I got sick around you. I still remember our first argument. I still remember our first "I love you." I still remember our first group hang-out. I still remember our first block in the relationship.

I still remember when you texted me those heart-dropping words. I still remember what happened that one night. I still remember when your mother texted me that you were gone. I still remember when your step-father drove around with me searching for you. I still remember when your sister and I took your mothers car, looking in all the places she could think. I still remember finding out who took you. I still remember going to him, yelling at him. I remember not being able to eat with your sister, the food she paid for at the gas station. I still remember helping your sister move some things to her place that same night.

I still remember staying up late, texting your parents about where to go next by looking at the map while they were in the same area. I still remember them telling me where the workers last saw you. I remember when they said they'd keep searching. I remember waking up the next morning feeling ill. I remember the next morning, with your family. I remember trying to figure out what to do next. I remember when you texted me where you were. I remember taking out my entire savings to run to you forever. I remember lying to your parents for your sake. I remember driving in your mothers car, half way there. I remember turning back around in fear. I remember telling your parents what you texted me.

I remember their anger, their blame. I still remember crying and letting out everything to them. I still remember the next day, taking my mothers car to the location I knew you were at last. I remember you begging me the night before, but I knew I wasn't on my way. I remember how bad I felt when you were scared and wanted me. I remember when we found you, you didn't react to me. I remember your mother and step-father smoking cigarettes. I remembered that your mother never really smoked. I remember rushing to the hospital that they were taking you to. I remember sitting, waiting for them to tell me that I could see you.

I remember that when you finally would talk to me, you said I looked terrible and skinny, I hadn't eaten for almost four days. I remember when you let me get you food. I remember letting you hit my vape. I remember laying on the hospital bed with you, while you read to me. I remember being on the phone with the cop. I remember when you and I talked about it all but I knew you weren't okay. I remember you telling me that you wanted to shoot a cop in the head by stealing his gun, then shooting yourself.

I remember when I left, I cried. I remembered that after my therapy appointment the next day, your mother told me you went into the psychiatric hospital. I remember staying at your house for hours after classes, alone in your room. I remember your mother going through your room to make it safe for you, to protect you from the cops. I remember napping the day you were going to come home. I remember your mother and step-father wanting to talk to you once you got home. I remember seeing you when you walked into your room for the first time after a week.

I remember how you still smelled like the hospital when I hugged you. I remember how things slowly was becoming normal again. I remember how things went wrong again. I remember how you tore yourself from me. I remember our last argument. I remember you not talking to me for days before randomly messaging me that we had to talk. I remember you breaking up with me. I remember our last cigarette together. I remember going to your house, multiple days after school, crying while you were fine. I remember you would act fine then treat me like I was nothing.

In the end, you may not care. In the end, I will always remember. Even now, I don't think I could forget. There is more to the story, but it would take forever to explain everything that I still remember. Even after 14 months.

[thenightlymirror]

Work is so busy I’m a little afraid I might not be cut out for it, but I catch up.

My old trainer texted me to say she finished It. I still have a few hours left. I watched the Pennywise documentary last night and sent it her way today. I think she wants to do The Dark Tower next. Which I would be down for, though I’ve just never been able to get through The Gunslinger before.

Harper was riled up today in her usual violence against the office. Fury. I just try to stay out of the way. I can’t say I believe it’s worth it. While they get on my nerves, you have to ask yourself “Am I a cop?” and your answer should be “No I’m not.”

She left a little early. I said I was going to stare at the wall for a few minutes, and she encouraged me to leave too.

I stopped by the garage for the first time, ever, today to drop off some paperwork. Nice and clean. Serg left a crude, though not that crude, drawing of an alien or gremlin with three legs on the breakroom table. I sent it to her and she said it looked friendly.

Serg is seeing real Biblical Angels.

We had the sardines Monday. They were okay. Silver. Fatty. Chunky. She said her music teacher would eat them with peanut butter so I tried it. It tasted like peanut butter. Mostly.

I watched The Station Agent with Carlene and her fiancé. It’s a very real movie, everyone’s erotic entanglements. I relate to Dinklage on a very deep level. Big guy/small guy solidarity.

[walker-extended-universe]

Aita for season 3!August?

WIBTA if I took advantage of the fact that my dad ignores me?

I'm aware that I'm probably TA but I also think I deserve it a little bit.

My dad has a habit of ignoring me in favor of my older sister. Normally, I don't mind too much since we have other family that lives close by that I can talk to but things have changed in the past few months.

Ever since our mom died two years ago (and even before that if I'm honest), my older sister has been the loud and reckless one. When our Dad left for business after Mom died, my sister got pissed at him and threw massive parties at our house every other night, even after he came home. She only got arrested once for drug possession but Dad never really punished her for it. She's done a lot of other things in the past few years; her actions include but are not limited to: 1) the time she was going to run away forever with her boyfriend and lied to both us and her soccer team about where she was on the day of the state championships, 2) the time she ditched classes because she was mad at Dad, 3) the time she snuck away from the coaches with some other members of the soccer team to drink and party at another location and they almost got kidnapped by gang members (I was there for this one too but I digress)

Dad's usual response to her antics is to downplay them or occasionally get stern with her before letting her off. He keeps trying to prove to her that he's there for us and he's not going to run away like he did after Mom died.

Recently, my older sister just randomly decided she wasn't going to college after all and she's staying home and working instead. Which is fine, better than her getting a massive debt for a crappy job. But that means that Dad is even more worried about her than usual. He went out of his way to get her a job (it's part time and she complained about it) (also it's the same place I work and my hours got cut to make room for her) and he's always trying to be There For Her if she wants to talk or whatever.

The problem is, he never makes that kind of time for me. I barely get to talk to him about anything outside of weight training (which I'm not even all that into) and he never offers his help with MY issues (not that he bothers to even find out what they are). I decided to try voicing my needs because communication is usually a good idea in these circumstances. I asked him if he could help me out during an alumi flag football game and help my class win a skip day (I go to a small school). He said he'd try but he couldn't make any promises because of work and then he ended up bailing on me at the last minute.

I was pissed about that so I did something that was, admittedly, a little stupid.

See, my family owns this bar and I have a key. To make up for losing the skip day, I opened it up for my classmates and had a party. Things were actually going pretty okay when I was able to keep an eye on things but I got locked in a supply closet when I was changing out the kegs and things started to get a little crazy. I texted my sister to help me out and she came through (she also tried to give me a lecture about what the hell I thought I was doing). Unfortunately, she showed up right before the cops did and we both got arrested.

Naturally, Dad was fuming about this but, then something interesting happened. He blamed my older sister for everything. EVERYTHING! He didn't even give me the chance to apologize (and I did try, for the record). He even left her in the holding cell overnight and made her clean up the mess in the bar!

I know I should probably tell him the truth but, honestly, I feel like if I can throw a massive rager in my dad's freaking bar and get away with it because my sister is an attention hog, then I may as well keep doing whatever I want. It's not like it'll make a difference to him anyway.

[ellocat-poemyourpainaway]

Exposition isn’t my nature-pray forgiveness if I fail to give justice: that night and a forever fight to rubric cube an understanding into one family’s pain

He thinks it was his fault.

He thinks he should have protected us,

Protected his sisters,

Realized what they were doing to his mother;

He thinks if he’d stayed awake it wouldn’t have happened.

He thinks if he was a better son he could have been enough of a reason for his father to get better:

He thinks it was his fault.

He found him.

He went upstairs to sleep when they only had one episode left of a show they were watching “the winter soldier”.

-He keeps wishing he’d stayed up to watch that last show-

(He hadn’t seen his dad in two months)

It was 2 am. He was tired.

He’d been binge watching and video game playing for hours.

(He loved his dad. He always wanted time with him.)

He heard a scream.

When he ran downstairs his father was hunched over the toilet,

His girlfriend had screamed.

She called the police,

He called us.

(We were three hours away visiting my

Parents In the mountains)

His sister was with me, She had already cut her father out of her life. The last conversation I had with him, he’d called to ask me to intervene on his behalf.

(We rarely if ever spoke. He was cruel In his bitter years)

He called my phone but it was on silent.

We woke up to my mother’s iPad ringing,

We heard the panic, I picked up the phone-Evan was sobbing

“Momma. Momma I Found

Daddy.

His face is blue.

Momma his face is blue”.

I started crying

(I couldn’t even get to my baby)

I texted everyone I knew-

Even ex boyfriends.

Kaitlyn Answered.

It was 3 am.

She drove to get him an hour away-

He had to stay HOURS in that house with the police and his

Father’s dead body by the time he’d reached us, and we’d reached anyone who could get him.

A cop said “you HAD a nice Room”,

And it made him Cry.

It was that past tense,

Insensitive pig.

We drove all through the night to be back-

CPS had to

Come.

Evan Never questioned why CPS had to

Come.

EVERYONE lied to him-

I didn’t -but I didn’t overtly shed light on all the lies other people had fed him;

That his dad had heart problems,

That his dad was sick

(I mean, he was, he was definitely sick)

Everyone skated and skirted the truth.

I accidentally revealed it to him-

When he said he thought it was his fault,

Because if he’d stayed up later he’d have been able to help his dad in time.

He thinks it was his fault!

I couldn’t stand for it.

“NO.

No One could have saved him.

We all

WE ALL

Tried…years of trying…endless ways of trying.”

It was that. That cracked open the vault to his understanding-

“What do you mean? You all Tried…

this was THAT? I thought he was doing better! Grandma said it was his heart. Everyone lied to me!”

And he cried on the trails in the black night.

He cried because everyone knew and had lied to him,

Like he was too pathetic, too weak,

to Be trusted to handle the truth.

He thought it was his fault, he thought he was too Late,

He thinks it was his fault, he thinks

He was too Weak.

It’s not his fault.

It never was, mine or anyone’s.

Drugs are wild for placing blame on victims.

A father’s

Legacy to his son-

That his death and Illness were somehow

His fault.

The blue face imprinted In his

Brain,

Keeping him

Awake at night.

He thinks it’s his fault,

It is not.

But now he has to carry his father’s faults all through his life,

The most expensive no fault insurance ever,

The trauma on a young son’s heart.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of PD: Season 7: Don’t You Ever Do That Again, You Hear Me? (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

A/N: There are mentions of B1ack Liv3s M4tter (apparently this ended up in that tag, so I changed the wording, so hopefully it’s not there anymore) in regards to peaceful protests in this. And there are mentions of counter-protesters causing riots. I tried my best to portray this as professionally as possible with Y/N's views, Kevin's views, and Jay's views. I did not try to offend anyone at all and I'm very sorry if I did.

Also, I don't know if one part counts as threat of sexual coercion, but I'm fairly certain that's what it's called, so trigger warning for that.

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I get that it's important to you, but I'm not letting you go!" Jay argued as you stood across from him in a screaming match.

"Why? Because You don't believe the same things as me because you haven't met a bad cop? Because you fought for this country and know people who died for it?" you yelled back.

"Yes, me being a cop and a soldier obviously has something to do with this! But I'm also trying to keep you safe! They turn into riots!"

"You do know that's not the Black Lives Matter protesters who start them, right? They're peaceful. Counter-protesting assholes come and start things to give peaceful protesters a bad image!"

"I don't want you to get hurt if something happens! Tear gas hurts, kid. I don't want you to come home with burning eyes and the possibility of going blind and tell me I'm right. I'm trying to prevent that!"

"I know you are, Jay! I just want you to let me have my own damn opinions and do what I want for once!"

"Has a cop ever hurt you in some way? Pulled you over illegally?" Jay roared.

You wanted to tell him your story about something like that that had happened five weeks ago, two weeks after the infection scare across the entire city, but you couldn't because you knew he'd do something stupid and you didn't want that. "No, but--"

His phone rang, cutting you off. "I'll be there," Jay said quickly. Then, he turned back to you. "I gotta go, caught a case. I'll see you later and we can talk about this. Calmly."

"So, you're saying there's a chance you'll let me go?"

"There's maybe a .001% chance, but sure, believe what you want."

You rolled your eyes and he left. But, as he shut and locked the apartment door, he stopped. "Love you," he whispered. Because, with what he did on the job, he knew that there was the possibility every day of him not coming home to you.

***

When you woke up, you were shocked not to see a text from Jay between 3 and 5 am saying that he wouldn't make it home tonight. He usually made it a priority when on a case to tell you that he wouldn't be coming home so that you wouldn't worry.

But, there was a voicemail from him around 11 pm last night and it was currently 9 am.

You put your phone on speaker and played it.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry about arguing. If you really want to go, I think Kevin has his RDO tomorrow so I can see if he's going if you-- OW!" Then, the line just continued playing, and dragging noises were heard until there was a crash and the line went dead.

"Jay? Jay?" What the hell had happened? You quickly replayed the message to make sure it wasn't an issue with your phone, but when you heard the same exact thing again, you knew something had gone terribly wrong.

You went to dial Hailey's number to ask if she had seen Jay when there was a loud knock on your door. You quickly ran across the apartment and looked out the peephole. You saw Hailey and Adam and quickly flung open the door.

"Hey, Y/N," Adam said as he entered.

"Have you guys seen Jay?" you asked.

You saw Hailey visibly swallow. "Listen," she started, but you cut her off.

"What happened? What's going on? He usually texts me if he's going to be working until the morning and I didn't get a text and I got a voicemail and--" You took a deep, gasping breath.

"What voicemail?" Hailey asked as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I- It cut off partway through and he yelled and-- wait, he wasn't with you?"

"No," Hailey answered. "He said he had some personal stuff to take care of when we were at a scene and then took off. Then, he never came back, so we decided to check here to see if he just came home or something happened."

"He never came home." Your eyes widened, finally processing what it meant if he wasn't here and Intelligence couldn't find him. "You're telling me he's missing? Again? Oh, no. This can't be happening, not again. Not after our fight last night. I didn't even tell him what happened or that I loved him or--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath," Hailey told you and you tried to match her breathing. "His radio might just be dead or something like that." She knew that she was lying, but she was trying to stop you from freaking out. "Can you give me your phone so Adam and I can listen to the voicemail?"

You nodded and handed Adam your phone. He pressed play and you watched as his jaw clenched as he was listening to it.

"Shit," he muttered once he was done. "We need you to come to the district with us. Just for safety."

"Can you give me a minute?" you asked. "I- I'm in my pajamas and I haven't brushed my teeth and--"

"We'll leave in half an hour, okay?" Hailey asked and you nodded. "While you're getting ready, we'll send the voicemail over to Kim and Kev. Jay's gonna be okay."

"How do you know that?" you almost whispered.

"Because Jay's one of the strongest people I know," she answered. But, in reality, she wasn't sure about that. They had no idea where he was and according to the timestamp on that voicemail, it had been a little over ten hours since he sent it. For all they knew, Jay could be out of Chicago right now. Scratch that, he could be out of Illinois.

***

"When did you get this voicemail?" Hank asked as everyone in Intelligence, minus Jay but including you, were in the bullpen and trying to trace where the call came from.

"Around 11 last night, Boss," Adam answered for you.

"Okay. So it's been almost 11 hours," Voight said.

"I need a break, excuse me," you said and quickly excused yourself to the locker room.

You made your way to the locker room and sat down and leaned against the wall. This couldn't be happening again, not after that crazy borderline sociopathic drug dealer kidnapped Jay a few years ago and Erin went in and saved him. This could not be happening again.

You thought back to the fight last night and something your mom would always say when she was in a fight with one of the boys or when you had thrown a temper tantrum and then had to go to bed.

I'll always tell you I love you because when you walk out that door or go to bed, I'll never know if that was the last chance I had to tell you I love you.

God, if you hadn't argued with Jay, maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Obviously, you'd be feeling scared and upset because Jay was missing and no one had any idea where he was, but at least you wouldn't feel guilty like you currently did.

You felt guilty about starting that fight in the first place by bringing it up even though you knew what his answer was going to be. You felt guilty about yelling. But most of all, you felt guilty and you regretted not saying love you when he left...because that might've been the last time you'd have been able to tell that to your big brother who had always been there for you...even when he really didn't want to.

Jay's Nokia flip phone buzzed as he walked out of school. It was his mom.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted.

"Jay Halstead, if you answered your phone while you're driving..." she trailed off, trying to think of a good threat.

"Mom, I didn't. I was talking to some friends about going for tacos tonight, so I just walked out of school a minute ago."

"Oh," she said.

"What oh?" Jay asked. "That sounded like a bad oh, Mom."

"Well, I wish I would've known that before a professor called in sick to give an exam to his students and I agreed to pick up the extra hours."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't bring Y/N to the dentist. And I thought since you weren't busy, you could. I also may or not have promised her that she could go to Build-A-Bear after to get a new outfit for Beary because she's so scared."

"Mom," Jay groaned.

"I know, I'm sorry. But, how about this: you do this for me, and I'll extend your curfew by two hours on Friday and Saturday."

"Three," Jay countered.

"Two." Amelia Halstead stood strong.

"Three."

"Two and a half."

"Deal," Jay agreed.

"Thank you. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you, too."

***

"No," you whined as Jay told you that you had to leave after he walked you home from school later. "I don't wanna go to the dentist. They scary."

"No, they're not," Jay told you. The doctor was what was scary for him with all the needles for the shots. But, the dentist had never bothered him, even when he was a little kid it had never bothered him.

"No!"

"What if I let you bring Beary into the dentist, would you go then?" Jay practically pleaded.

"And you give me chocolate before we leave?"

"If you promise to grab your toothbrush and brush your teeth in the bathroom at the dentist, then yes, I'll give you some chocolate to eat on the way there." Jay was desperate at this point. He knew he shouldn't be giving you everything you wanted, but what were big brothers with a giant age gap for anyway if not to try and spoil his little sister?

"Okay!" You ran off to go grab Beary and your toothbrush and toothpaste while Jay made his way to a high cabinet in the kitchen and grabbed five squares of Dove milk chocolate, three for you and two for him.

In the car, Jay handed you the cholates and you started eating them while you held Beary close to you, trying to gain some comfort out of your favorite stuffed animal.

***

You gripped Jay's hand as you sat and waited for your name to be called. Beary was held in your other hand and you were squeezing him tight against your chest. You had just brushed your teeth like you promised Jay that you would, but you were still utterly terrified.

"Y/N Halstead?" a dental hygienist came out and asked.

You didn't say a word, just held Jay's hand tighter.

"That's you," Jay said gently and with a smile on his face, trying to make you feel less scared.

"No, not me," you told him as you frantically shook your head.

The dental hygienist squatted down in front of you. "Are you Y/N?" You didn't do anything, but Jay must've nodded to confirm that it was indeed you. "And who's this?" she asked as she shook Beary's paw.

"Beary," you said shyly.

"Well, I'm fairly certain that Beary will be with you the entire time. We even have little sunglasses you and he can wear when we shine the really bright light on you to protect both your little eyes. Does that sound good?"

You turned to Jay. "Me and Beary get sunglasses, Jay Jay!"

"I heard! Do you want me to come back with you?"

You thought for a second. "Please come."

Jay laughed. "Okay." He turned to the dental hygienist. "Is that okay?"

"Perfectly fine."

You stood up and held Jay's hand as you walked back into the dentist to get your six-month check-up on your baby teeth.

***

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Jay asked as the two of you walked out to his car after you finished.

"No!" you said as you shook your head. "I even got a pretty bracelet with Belle on it, see?" you exclaimed as you held your hand out to him to show off your yellow bracelet with a charm that had Belle from Beauty and the Beast on it.

Jay acted all surprised and said it was pretty even though he watched as you had picked it out while he had explained to the secretary how your mom would call to schedule your next appointment in six months.

Jay opened his car and made sure you were buckled in and then got in himself and started driving.

"Do you know where we're going?"

You gasped. You had forgotten you got to go to Build-A-Bear after!

"Build-A-Bear!" you yelled. The volume of that yell would've made Jay wince had he not been driving.

"Yup, that's where we're going."

"I think I'm gonna get Beary some new pajamas," you decided.

"What color?"

You held Beary out in front of you. "What color pjs do you want, Beary?" You brought him up to your ear and nodded as he "told" you what color pajamas he wants. "He said blue!"

"Blue pajamas. I'm pretty sure we can find those."

***

Jay and you walked into Build-A-Bear Workshop at the mall and you were met with children running around. To Jay, this was the definition of hell. Except for you, he was fine with you running around, but he really didn't like all the other kids that he had to be careful not to bump into.

"C'mon, Jay Jay!" you told him as you tugged him along to the pajama section.

He allowed himself to be tugged along by you and then you held up almost every single pair of blue pajamas to Beary to see which one was his favorite. He had decided on a pair of light blue pajamas with stars all over them. There was even a cute little hat with a pom-pom on top to go with the pajamas.

Jay paid and then you left with Beary and his brand-new pajamas. You had plans to have him sleep in those pajamas tonight, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Jay hadn't even really wanted to come. The only reason he brought you was that he got his curfew extended. But to you, it was just another fun afternoon with your big brother.

You were startled out of your daydream when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Kevin.

"It's fine. I'm fine," you said quickly.

"No, you're not. And that's okay. Hailey and Voight went to see if Jay's where his phone pinged at."

"We fought," you told him.

"You fought?" Kevin asked as he slid down the wall to sit next to you.

"It was stupid. I should've just agreed with him and maybe I wouldn't be feeling like this."

"Like what?"

"Like utter shit." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "We were arguing about the BLM protests that were happening tonight. I wanted to go, but he wouldn't let me. The last thing I did was roll my eyes at him, Kev."

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments while Kevin figured out how to comfort you.

"Maybe talking about it will help. What'd you argue about?"

"Just that I wanted to go and he wouldn't let me because he thinks riots will break out. And you and I both know that's not the BLM protesters, that's the counter-protesters. But, he thinks I'll get hurt. I also think it's because he's a cop, so he feels like I'm protesting him, but I'm not. I'm protesting the system."

Kevin nodded. "I get it. Believe me, I do. I live it every day."

"How do you do it?" you asked. "Be an activist and a cop at the same time?"

"Just try and do the right thing with the information you have. And, explain that you're protesting the system and the bad apples, not the police force as a whole."

"I tried. But Jay doesn't think I have a right to protest because I've never had a bad experience with a cop." Which was a lie, but you weren't ready to talk about that just yet.

"Did he say that exactly?" Kevin asked.

"No, but, he asked me if a cop has ever illegally pulled me over."

Kevin nodded. "I know Jay and I know he would never say that you didn't have the right protest. He fought for that right. He mention anything else?"

"That tear gas hurts."

"I think he just wanted to keep you safe, same thing I'd do for Jordan and Vanessa."

"He sounded like he changed his mind on his voicemail, though. He thought that maybe if you were going, then he'd let me go...at least, that's what it sounded like."

Kevin nodded. "All I can say is that until we found Jay, I'm not going to one. Getting your brother is my first priority and it's the first priority of everyone in this unit."

"My first priority, too."

"Kev!" Adam yelled as he banged on the door. "You in there?"

"Yeah, bro! What's up?" Kevin asked.

"We need you to meet with someone!"

***

The hours passed and with each of them that did, you got more and more nervous for Jay's safety. You guessed that this is how he felt when you asked if you could go to the protest, knowing that he'd constantly be worrying about you until you came home safely.

"Y/N, we gotta go," Trudy said as she entered the bullpen around 9:30 pm that night.

"Why? What's going on?" you asked as you grabbed your phone and started following her.

"They found Jay."

"Is he okay?" you asked quickly.

"Y/N..."

"No! He can't be dead, Trudy! He can't!" you wailed.

"He's not. But, he has been shot."

You froze. Shot. Jay had been shot.

"He's en route to Chicago Med right now."

"Can you- can you bring me there?"

"That's where we're going right now."

***

"Will!" you yelled as you ran into the ED and saw your oldest brother.

You ran right up to him and hugged him, not caring that he almost dropped his iPad he had been using to chart.

"Whoa, Y/N." He set the iPad down. "Hey, I know. But Crockett's operating on him right now and he's one of the best surgeons in the hospital."

"I thought you were better than him. You need to do the surgery, Will. you need to save Jay!"

"Y/N, I know it sucks, but I'm family. As much as I want to operate on him, I can't legally do that."

You paused and looked up at him. His eyes were slightly red, but he hadn't been bawling the way that you had been.

"Dr. Halstead! Incoming!" Maggie yelled.

"What does she mean?" you asked, still hanging onto him. "You're still working?"

"There's been a ten-car pile-up on the highway. I have to. It's my job."

"But Jay's in surgery!" you yelled as you pulled away from him. "These people are more important to you than your own brother?"

"They aren't but--"

"But you're working anyway instead of waiting to find out what happens to him?"

"I can't do anything to help Jay right now. But I can help all these people who are pouring in."

"Dr. Halstead!" Maggie shouted again.

"I'll be up in a few hours, I promise," Will told you.

***

A few hours had passed and it was now past midnight. Jay was still in surgery. Will was sitting next to you, in a spare pair of clothes he had packed instead of his scrubs that were covered in blood, and you were leaning your head on his shoulder, close to being asleep.

That was until Crockett came out and Will jumped up, causing your head to hit the back of the chair.

"Ow," you mumbled.

"Sorry," Will apologized and then turned back to Crockett. "What's the verdict?"

"He lost a lot of blood," Crockett told the two of you.

"But he's gonna pull through, right?" Will asked what the two of you were both thinking.

"We'll be out of blood soon."

"What do you mean out of blood?" Will asked, taking a step toward the surgeon. "There's no way you can be out of blood!"

"With that pile-up, we can. I'd recommend you go and say your goodbyes and pray for a miracle."

Will put his hands on the back of his head and started pacing the room. Your breath caught in your throat. This could not be happening. Jay couldn't die, he just couldn't.

Crockett started to walk back towards the operating room.

"Wait!" you yelled. You didn't know what had taken over you, but at this moment, you'd do anything to save your brother. You rolled up your sleeve. "Take my blood."

"Y/N," was all Will could manage to get out.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but there's protocol for that. I'd love to let you do it, but--"

"Fuck protocol!" you yelled, all the anger and sadness and anxiety that had built up over the past fifteen hours exploding at this very moment. "Rush my labs. Or don't even get my labs done at all. I haven't had sex, so I don't have any STDs. I don't have any diseases or deficiencies since I moved in with Jay years ago. My blood type's O-neg, so I'm a universal donor. Take my goddamn blood, Crockett!" You didn't care that all that information was out in the open because you were barely processing what you were saying. The only thing you cared about was making sure that your brother was okay.

"Y/N," Will said as he walked up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me! And you sure as hell don't want to tell me to calm down!"

"Y/N," Will started again as he took his hand off your shoulder. "What Crockett's saying is that it's not ethical for him to do this. He could get fired."

"Where's the paperwork?" you asked as you turned back to Crockett. "I'll sign whatever I have to sign to make sure you aren't liable at all, that I'm donating this of my own free will. You can even take double the amount of blood that you normally do since I'm a universal donor. Just get me the paperwork."

Crockett and Will shared a look.

"I'll go get a nurse to get you the paperwork."

"Wait, no, no, no," Will said as he walked closer to Crockett. "You can't be serious about this!"

"She said she'll sign it."

"But, I have to co-sign it since she's a minor. So, no, you are not donating blood, Y/N. You almost passed out when I drew vials of your blood years ago. You know what's gonna happen if we take two units of blood? You are gonna feel like utter shit."

"Last I checked, I'm 18, so I can sign my own paperwork! God, I'm not a fucking child anymore, Will! I can make my own decisions!" you yelled back. "And if I don't do this, Jay will die. He'll die, Will. So, I'm giving him my blood with or without your support."

***

You sat in a chair, the ones that Will had told you about years ago with the big padded bar thing that came down in front of you in case you passed out. Typically, they'd just have you lay down in a bed, but since they were short on beds and Will told them that you had a history of getting dizzy and nauseous during simple blood draws, they had decided to put you here instead.

"Last chance to back out," Will told you as the nurse tied off your arm with a blue rubber tie and started to rub your arm to get the big vein in your left forearm to show.

"Jay's dying. No way in hell am I backing out."

Will sighed. He knew you were doing the right thing, but he also knew that you were going to feel terrible after, and he hated seeing you like that. "Okay," he said. "I'll stay here until they get the needle in you and then I'll get you some juice and cookies."

"Ready?" Monique asked.

"Ready," you confirmed. You turned to Will and squeezed your eyes shut as the needle pierced your vein. You heard the sound of the machine and knew your blood was going in there, but you didn't want to look. Getting your blood drawn, you could watch. But this, this was just too much blood to see, so you looked at Will.

"Doing okay?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah," you answered because that was the absolute truth: you were feeling just fine.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get you some cookies and juice. I'll get an update on Jay while I'm out there, too."

You nodded and he left the room.

This wasn't so bad.

***

Okay, so you were lying to yourself. You were currently in hell. Giving the blood hadn't been an issue, it was how you felt after you were done giving blood.

You were currently sitting in that same chair, drinking some juice that Will had brought you. He told you that there was still no update on Jay, but that they were sending the blood back to him right now. (They had rushed labs on a small vial of blood that Monique took before you started the donation. The results came back while you were giving blood, and since your blood was clean, you could give it to Jay.) But, God, but you felt absolutely awful.

"You doing okay?" Will asked.

You shook your head and then stopped because it made you dizzy and put your head in your hands. "No," you groaned.

He handed you a glass of water. "Drink a bit of this too and then I'll open your pack of cookies."

"Why do you want me to drink water and not juice?" you asked as you closed your eyes and tried to stop the spinning in your head.

"Because, you're sweating, Short Stack. Need you to stay hydrated."

You took a few sips of water and then went back to your juice. Will handed you your pack of chocolate chip cookies and you started to eat them.

"Mhm," you groaned and laid your head down on the padded bar thing in front of you that kept you from falling out of the chair. "I don't feel so good."

You felt hot and cold at the same time and the world seemed to spin every time you lifted your head up. And, those cookies did not sit well with you.

"How do you feel? What hurts?" Will asked, jumping into doctor mode since Monique wasn't around. Will assured her that he could look after you while you recovered from your blood being donated at twice the normal amount.

"I just feel like shit," you told him, not picking up your head.

"You gotta give me some symptoms. Give me some symptoms and then I can help."

"Mhm, fine." You looked up at him and blinked slowly. "I feel hot and cold and sweaty. And I feel dizzy and nauseous."

"Okay. That's either a vasovagal reaction or from your blood pressure being low or from your  heart rate being slowed down."

"What's that reaction thingy?"

"You don't like blood in general, so a nervous system response can happen, which could explain your reactions. But, your BP could also be low, which could explain all this too. And, it's one in the morning and you haven't slept yet, so tiredness could also be a factor."

"Great," you said sarcastically as you remembered the last time your blood pressure was low.

You had taken some of Jay's medication that he had to ward off his PTSD-induced nightmares after you were involved in a shooting at a house party. The one time you took them without sleeping directly after, you felt almost exactly like this...except without the sweatiness. You just mostly felt dizzy. You had called Will, he came over, and then you ended passing out and he had to get you to Med. Then you were admitted and they got your pressure back up. You were also prescribed sleeping pills which had helped immensely.

Will grabbed a blood pressure cuff from a drawer. "Arm," he told you. You held out your arm and he wrapped the cuff around it and pumped the end of it.

You waited as he looked at the gauge on the blood pressure cuff. Will said one number over another number, which meant nothing to you, but must've meant something to him. You raised your eyebrows, hoping he was going to tell you what those numbers meant in non-medical English terms.

"BP's low, which explains most of the symptoms," he told you.

You took another bite of your cookie and washed it down with some juice, but then immediately after started dry heaving.

Will rushed around and then thrust a pink basin under your mouth.

You took a deep breath after you finally stopped dry heaving about thirty seconds later.

"Better?" Will asked. You shook your head. "I'm going to get you an IV of anti-nausea medication."

You were going to argue with him about how he wasn't working, so he probably couldn't get you that. And, you were fairly certain he couldn't prescribe things to family. But, you felt terrible, so you really don't care if Will was being reckless and borderline unethical/illegal right now.

You nodded and then laid your head back down.

When Will came back, he thought you were asleep, but when you heard footsteps, you looked up.

"Alright," he began as he assembled the IV. "Last poke of the day, I promise."

"After this can I take a nap in the on-call room?" you asked as you held your arm out to him once again.

"You know I can't let you do that." Will tied a blue band around your arm and started rubbing it to get a vein in the inside of your elbow. Then, he noticed your pale and sweaty face. "Fine. Hopefully, Goodwin won't fire me after this. But I have a good reason. Turn so you don't see the needle."

You did and closed your eyes. You felt the poke and squeezed your eyes shut, but then it subsided and you felt that weird feeling of the medicine going straight into your veins. God, you hoped this worked.

You hoped Jay would survive because you didn't just go through all that for nothing.

***

You slowly opened your eyes as you felt someone shaking your shoulder. "No," you groaned as you turned to face the other side of the bed.

But then you remembered where you were: the doctors on-call room because Jay had been shot. Maybe it was Will waking you up to tell you--

"Short Stack, wake up. Jay's awake."

That got you wide awake.

You snapped your eyes open, rolled over, and jumped out of bed.

"I take it you're feeling better?" Will asked.

"Sleep helps. Let's go!"

Will quickly led you out of the room and through some hallways and up a few flights of stairs to Jay's recovery room.

He was currently talking to Hailey.

"Jay!" you exclaimed as you burst into the room to see him with a sling and see Hailey helping him with his jacket.

"Hey, Short Stack," he greeted and then turned his attention back to Hailey. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Uh, just that I'm glad you're back," she told him. "I'll give you some time with your siblings." She turned her attention to Will. "Oh, and the things you told me to tell Kim to get are in that corner." She pointed to the left front corner of the room. "Bye, guys." She waved and then left.

You gave Jay a huge hug and tried to avoid his arm that was in a sling. "Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" you told him seriously and then looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

Jay chuckled. "I'll try not to."

"You better do more than try." You went back to leaning your head against his chest as tears soaked his t-shirt.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," he soothed. "I'm okay. I'm fine, Y/N."

"I was so scared. The last thing we would've done was argue. I'm so sorry. I should never have asked to go to those protests. I know you were just trying to protect me--"

"Hey, it's okay for you to have your own opinions and views. It's just gonna take me a while to get used to you being an adult now and not that little sister who would always hold my hand and beg to go to Build-A-Bear."

"Speaking of Build-A-Bear," Will started and then walked over to the corner of the room and picked up two boxes. They were white boxes with dark blue designs on them. You knew those boxes: they were what the workers put new bears in when a kid came and bought one. You let go of Jay. Will peeked into one of the holes. "This one's for you." He handed Jay a box. "And this one's for you." He handed you the other box.

"You got us Build-A-Bears?" you asked as you raised an eyebrow.

"Just open the boxes."

You did and laughed when you saw Beary in the box, dressed in a hospital gown and white little bunny slippers. Your brothers were not kidding when they said they'd get one for you.

Jay laughed as he opened his. His Build-A-Bear was a light blue color and it also had on a hospital gown as well as a sling on one arm. The bear also had on a policeman cap. "Oh, man," Jay said as he continued laughing.

"Press the right paw," Will told him and he did, causing Ruzek's voice to float through the room.

Stop getting kidnapped. Glad you're okay, though.

You started laughing hysterically at this point.

"One more thing," Will said as he walked over to the counter and pulled out a marker and two hospital bracelets. On one he wrote Beary Halstead. "Jay, what are you naming your bear?" Will asked.

"I gotta name it?"

"Um, it's not an it. It's a he or a she...could be a they, too," you said.

"Fine. I gotta name him?"

"Yes," Will told him.

Jay groaned. "Fine. Blue."

"Boo! That's boring," you said.

He groaned again. "Detective Blue. There. Better?"

"Better," you confirmed.

Will wrote Det. Blue Halstead on the other hospital band. Then, he handed Beary's to you and Detective Blue's to Jay.

"I cannot believe you," Jay said.

"I can," Will laughed. "Now put it on him. Just like Y/N's doing with Beary."

Jay reluctantly put it on Detective Blue's arm. But then he realized something. "Wait, why does Beary have a hospital gown if Y/N wasn't in the hospital?"

"Yeah, about that..." you trailed off.

Jay cocked his head to the side. "What did you do this time?"

"Other than save your life, I got nauseous and Will had to give me anti-nausea medication," you explained.

"Wait, back up. You saved my life? How?" Jay asked as he looked between you and Will.

"She essentially cussed at Crockett until she got what she wanted," Will said nonchalantly.

"Which was...?" Jay pried.

"Giving you blood because the hospital was out because of a car accident. If she wouldn't have given you blood..." Will trailed off, not wanting to say the words.

"I'd be dead," Jay practically whispered.

"Yeah," Will confirmed, his voice at about the same volume as Jay's.

Jay felt himself getting choked up as he pulled you in for another hug. "Thank you."

"I know you'd do the same for me."

"In a heartbeat, Short Stack. In a heartbeat."

You stayed like that until Will went ahead and broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over the three of you.

"I hate to break this up, but there's something else I need to tell you guys," Will said.

You and Jay both turned to him and you let yourself out of Jay's embrace. "Which is?" you asked.

"Voight gave Jay two weeks furlough to recover and I talked Goodwin into giving me two weeks vacation--"

"How in the hell did you do that?" Jay asked.

"Let's just say I'm going to be working Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, and New Year's Day. But that's beside the point. We have two weeks of vacation time."

"You do know I work right?" you asked.

"At a coffee shop, not at a big kid job," Will said. "And, I had Kim and Adam stop in there on their way to get the bears. They explained the situation and your work gave you two weeks off. Adam said he may have had to flash his badge, but that's beside the point."

"And you took vacation because...?" you asked.

"We need to make sure Jay relaxes and there's so many protests-turned-riots happening right now that we should probably get out of here."

"You do know it's not the peaceful protesters starting those, right? It's counter-protesters and other people who are racist bigots and people who decided they have no other choice but to be violent," you said, making your views known once again.

"I'm very much aware, Y/N. But, no matter who started it, people were running from tear gas and burning buildings last night."

"Alright, back on topic," Jay started, not wanting to have another argument like he had two days ago with you. "Where are we going?"

"I figured Wisconsin would be a good choice."

***

"It's my turn to pick the music," you whined as Will looked for another song on your long drive to Wisconsin.

"I'm the oldest, so I get control of it," Will argued.

"No, you've controlled it for the last three hours. I've had to listen to nineties hip-hop for that long. My eardrums are gonna bleed. Please make him give the aux, Jay."

"Dude, just give her the aux, and then she'll be quiet. Remember, she likes early 2000s pop-punk and 2000s stuff in general. We'll probably know most of it."

Will reluctantly handed you the aux. "Thank you. And, just to remind you two, I'm a big fan of Taylor Swift's first few albums and 5 Seconds of Summer."

You clicked play on Take What You Want by One OK Rock featuring 5 Seconds of Summer. You queued up some more songs by 5 Seconds of Summer and two by Taylor Swift, just to mess with your brothers, and then you added songs they would know like All the Small Things by Blink-182, Check Yes, Juliet by We The Kings, Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low, and Ocean Avenue by Yellowcard.

By the time Dear Maria, Count Me In started playing, all three of you were jamming out, which caused Jay to forget to put his blinker on when he changed lanes...and there was a cop right there in the emergency turnaround.

Jay heard and saw the sirens behind him and slowed down. He knew the drill from pulling people over on his days on patrol. Now that he was in Intelligence, he practically just ripped the criminals out of their cars and handcuffed them against the side of their (usually stolen) car.

He got out his license and registration, along with his badge because he did have his service weapon with him. He'd be damned not bringing it with him in this day and age...and sometimes there were coyotes and he and Will didn't know if the old hunting rifle at the cabin that your grandpa used to use even had ammunition in and if there was even any ammunition at the cabin.

Jay rolled down his window as the officer walked up to him.

Your hands started to sweat and your heart started to race as you remembered your last encounter with an officer that you didn't know.

You were driving home from the library late at night after studying for a biology exam. And no, the library wasn't an excuse for going out and partying. You genuinely had gone to the library and had had a great and very focused study session for a few hours.

All of a sudden, you saw flashing lights and heard sirens. You turned down your music. You looked in your rear-view mirror and saw that the cop was right on your tail. He turned off his sirens and then turned them on and off quickly.

You were the one getting pulled over.

You pulled off to the side of the road and then rolled down your window.

"License and registration," the officer told you. He looked young, maybe a rookie.

"What's the problem officer?" you asked. Jay always told you that you had a right to know why you had been pulled over.

"You were going three miles over the speed limit, did you know that?"

"I don't recall how fast I was driving." Jay always told you never to admit to speeding because then you could fight the ticket if you ended up getting one.

"License and registration, please," he repeated.

"Reaching into my glove compartment and moving some CDs to get my registration," you narrated and then handed the registration to the officer. "Reaching over to my passenger seat to grab my purse which has my license in it...unzipping my purse...reaching in for my license." You handed him your license.

He ran your information and then came back to the window. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I have to give you a ticket."

You furrowed your eyebrows. For three miles over the speed limit? No fucking way was this happening.

"Uh," was all you could say.

"But, there is something you can do to get out of this ticket. You help me out, I help you out."

"I- I don't understand," you stuttered.

He looked down and you followed where he was looking and cupping himself with the hand that wasn't holding your license and registration.

"I- I..."

"Or I can just up this speeding ticket to going twenty miles over it. Say there was an open container in the car, too," he said.

You had no idea what to say. You couldn't risk getting your insurance upped and getting a minor in possession charge. You'd never be allowed to drive again!

But, there's no way you'd do this. You couldn't. But he was so much bigger than you that he could hold you down with one hand tied behind his back.

He placed his hand on the door handle. "You have three seconds to make your decision. One...Two..."

"My brother's Jay Halstead! Badge number 51163! His Sergeant's Hank Voight!" Your voice trembled as you yelled that and you were close to tears.

He looked back down at your license. It did say Y/N Halstead on it. He handed you back your license and registration. "Have a nice night."

Then, he walked back to his patrol car, got in, turned off the sirens, and drove off. You were so scared that you didn't even look to see what his last name or badge number was.

Once you had stayed pulled over for a good couple of minutes to make sure that the cop was nowhere in sight, you started driving again. You stopped at a drive-thru and got yourself a chocolate flurry with Oreos. Then, you sat in the parking lot with your hands still shaking and your heart still racing as you ate and started to cry. You cried for almost half an hour and waited there for another fifteen minutes so your eyes wouldn't be as puffy when you got home because you didn't want Jay asking questions.

"Y/N, you good?" Jay asked, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah," you said quickly...almost too quickly. "Why?"

"Will just asked if you wanted to go back because we missed a song and you didn't answer."

"Yeah, I can do that." You quickly went back to the previous song and tried to sing with as much happiness as you did previously. But, you didn't get the image of that night or the feeling of dread out of your stomach for another hour.

***

You woke up the next morning very well-rested. The boys had taken the loft and the two twin beds that were up there and you got to take your mom and dad's old room because you were the only girl, so they said it was only fair that you got the bedroom.

You heard the dripping of water and got out of bed and then padded down the hall and to the kitchen. Jay was standing there in pajama pants and a t-shirt. (Thank God he wasn't shirtless for once in the morning. Your brothers really needed to learn how to put shirts on when they walked out of their rooms in the morning...and maybe by you telling them to put a shirt on all the time, you training them had finally paid off.) He drummed his fingers on the counter while he waited for the coffee to be done.

"Morning," you said.

He turned around. "Good morning. Shocked you're awake. It's only 8 am."

"And I'm shocked you haven't been up for two hours," you retorted.

"Oh, I've been up for an hour, just been reading upstairs. Will's not up yet, though."

"He always sleeps late when he doesn't have to work though, doesn't he?"

"Pretty much. We've made breakfast plans before and he's missed them because he was sleeping."

The timer went off on the coffee pot, alerting you that it was finished. Jay started to pour his in a tumbler. He held out a tumbler to you. You raised an eyebrow, silently wondering why he wasn't pouring it into a mug.

"I was gonna go for a morning canoe ride. You can come along if you want. Wouldn't want hot coffee spilling all over us," he told you.

"Did you bring creamer?" you asked.

"Irish cream creamer, just for you."

You reached into the fridge and grabbed the creamer.

"So, canoe ride?" Jay asked.

"Sure."

He poured coffee into a tumbler for you and then slid it to you to put your desired amount of creamer in.

***

Twenty minutes later, you were starting out in the canoe. You told Jay there was no way in hell that you'd be doing the rowing. He told you that he could only row with one arm because of his sling, so you'd have to do the other side. Skeptically, you started rowing. Jay told you that you'd be fine, just to follow his instructions.

Fifteen minutes later, when you were out in the middle of the lake, facing the forests of Wisconsin, he stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked.

He picked up his tumbler of coffee off the floor of the canoe. "We need to talk."

"About what?" you asked as you picked up yours as well and held it with both hands.

"About your reaction last night when I got pulled over. You freaked. I need to know why."

"I- I didn't freak. I was just tired," you lied.

"You had quite the amount of energy right before that," he quipped.

"It's nothing."

"Y/N, I'm not letting this go. Is it because of the protests and riots and because of all the media coverage and those few bad apple cops and, I guess the system, that you're seeing that's making you nervous?"

"No, it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"You're not going to let this go are you?" you asked.

"I will stay in this canoe in the middle of the lake until you tell me what is going on, Y/N Halstead."

"You wouldn't."

Jay shrugged with the arm that wasn't currently in a sling. "Try me."

You sighed. "Just don't be mad that I didn't tell you sooner, okay?"

"I won't. You have my word on that."

"So, a little over a month ago I was driving home from the library..."

***

When you finished, you were in tears. "Did you get a last name? Badge number?" Jay asked as he rubbed circles on your back with his good hand.

You sniffled. "N- No. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all."

"If I wouldn't have said- said your name...He had his hand on my door handle! And he was so much bigger than me. I'm sorry!"

You turned and buried your face in his chest. "Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I should've told you right away, though! But you just had that really rough case and I didn't want to put too much on your shoulders and--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath. You need to breathe. This was not your fault. None of it was."

You calmed your breathing and just sat there, silent tears streaming down your face.

"That's why I wanted to go to the protests," you said after a few minutes. "Because I've actually had a bad experience with a cop."

"Which should've never happened in the first place."

"I was so scared," you whispered.

Jay just hugged you tighter as he thought about how strong his little sister was. You had given blood to save his life even though you knew you'd feel terrible after and you hadn't told him about this horrible cop--which he would kick this cop's ass the minute the got back to Chicago--because you didn't want him to have too much on his plate after that terrible case where he put an innocent man in jail and got him killed...which was the main reason he had been shot.

"When we get back to the cabin, I'll try and call Voight. I don't know if I'll have service, though."

"Why?" you asked.

"I'm gonna have him look up who was on their beat near you that night so he can go interrogate people on my behalf. Probably best he does it and not me." Because Jay knew that the minute he saw that cop, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

You nodded.

"Hey, cheer up, kid. We're here for two weeks, away from everything. Away from the city and everything that goes on there. And I can promise you that that cop will get what's coming to him, whether that be losing his job or going to jail or prison."

"Do I have to tell Will? Or can you tell him? I really don't want to talk about this again."

"I can do it," Jay answered. "Speaking of Will, if he's not up when we get back, what do we say we wake him up with some cold lake water?"

"Like dump it on him?" you asked as you widened your eyes. Jay nodded. "No, that's mean. Then he'll have to wait for his sheets to dry out and they'll smell the entire time."

"We have spare sheets and blankets in the closet."

"Fine, let's do it. But just so you know, I'm telling him that it was your idea and I also have a lock on my bedroom door here, which will make it harder for him to sneak in and dump water on me."

"I will be sleeping in your room tonight," Jay joked.

"Nope. It was your idea, so you're gonna have to live with Will's payback."

Those two weeks were filled with laughter, pranks, board games, corn hole, swimming, fishing (well, you read either in the canoe or on the dock while the boys fished), and just spending time with each other. You were glad that Will had the bright idea to take two weeks up here...even though he got drenched in cold lake water the first morning by you and Jay.

A/N: I got a request from @ La_lectrice_33 on wattpad for Y/N going to the dentist, so I hope you liked that little scene! I also got a request from an anon on here about Jay and Will's reactions to her growing up, so I put that in here, too. Thank you for over 23k reads! I won't be posting until this Sunday (August 1) when I start posting AUs for AU-gust. Please remember to like/reblog and comment because I love seeing those like/reblog notifications pop up and love reading your comments and asks! As always, if you would like to be added to my tag list, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, like my imagines? Buy me a coffee (only $1 through Paypal and other currencies can be used) here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/Kayela

taglist:  @theambracer88  @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27  @anotherfan07  @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things  @herecomesthewriterwitch  @liampayne88

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - X

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,100+

Previously on…

The next three days were one of the darkest periods of Dick Grayson’s life. 

He was thrown back into the past to the moments after his parents were murdered. This felt the same but somehow worse. Because he was convinced he had the power to stop it, to keep Y/N safe.

Why did everyone he love have to die?

Was he cursed?

Was he responsible for their deaths?

He hadn’t even been able to tell Y/N how he really felt. He’d been holding back all this time, terrified that his truth would just push her away and make her decide to close off from him.

Now Dick wished he could go back in time and confess everything to her. If she had pushed him away, he would found his way back to her somehow. He sees that now – now that it’s too late.

He looked at Y/N sleeping peacefully in her bed at the manor.

Is it a miracle if conjuring was used to fight back at fate?

Dick doesn’t even remember what he said when he contacted Zatanna. He must’ve sounded hysterical and utterly desperate. His vision had been blurred from the tears he couldn’t control. 

He already blacked the whole thing out.

Zatanna told them that Y/N would sleep for a few days. Even if her magic saved her life and Y/N wouldn’t even have a scar to prove she had died, her body was still exhausted from the trauma of it all.

But even with Zatanna’s reassurance, Dick hadn’t left Y/N’s side, absolutely terrified that she was still in danger, that she could still leave them forever.

When Y/N started to shift, Dick sat up straighter in the chair that he’d pulled close to her bed.

Y/N winced before her eyes fluttered open.

Dick didn’t want to overwhelm her, so he just waited for her to fully wake up.

Y/N seemed confused when she realized that she was back in her room at the manor.

Then her gaze moved to Dick.

“Bruce, is he–”

“He’s fine,” Dick cut her off before she could get herself into a panic.

Her entire body relaxed and she let out the breath she was holding in without realizing it.

“He has a concussion and he’s a little beat up. But he’s had worse,” Dick elaborated.

She raised a brow. “You tend to say that a lot.”

Dick shrugged.

But it was true: Bruce had been in much worse condition.

“You saved his life, Y/N.”

She seemed uncomfortable hearing that and didn’t meet his gaze.

“I did what anyone would’ve done,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not everyone would be that brave.”

A silence settled between them for a few moments.

“How am I here?” Y/N finally asked Dick quietly.

But they both knew she was really asking, ‘How am I alive?’

“I’m not sure you really want to know all the details…” Dick had been dreading this conversation.

“I’m assuming you called in another favor with your magic friend,” Y/N thought aloud.

“Zatanna,” Dick confirmed. “And, yes. Something like that.”

Y/N gave him a look that told him she wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“She used a spell that reversed your injuries. She…” Dick had to pause and clear his throat and get rid of his emotions that were threatening to spill. “She used your blood to write a spell, making it far stronger than most she’s cast. It saved your life.”

Y/N watched him for a moment.

“That must’ve been scary,” she whispered, truly understanding what she had put him through.

She simply could not imagine had it been the other way around. The idea of watching Dick die was something she hoped to never live through.

“He hadn’t left your side until Alfred basically secretly drugged him and scared him to get his own bedroom.”

Y/N moved to get out of bed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick panicked as she stood up to stop her.

“I feel…” she thought about it for a moment.

“Like you were stabbed to death?” Dick offered darkly.

“No. I feel…I feel fine.”

He could tell she was telling the truth.

“Perks of magically being healed?” She offered innocently.

“Guess so.”

She moved out of the bed and realized she was wearing cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt that she most definitely didn’t die in.

What had happened while she was asleep? How long was she dead?

Y/N went to the window and looked out at the grounds of Wayne Manor.

“What happened when the cops showed up?” She asked quietly, almost in a daze.

“You’d have to ask Tim for details. I was preoccupied with…” Dick’s words died out.

Y/N turned away from the window to look at him.

She may have survived, but that was never going to make talking about that night any easier for him.

Luckily, she understood what Dick couldn’t put into words.

Dick took in a deep breath and crossed his arms, “We got them, Y/N.”

It almost seemed to good to be true. They’d been at this for months. It took them weeks just to plan their final blow.

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be to believe that it was truly over.

It didn’t help that there was no returning to her old life. Too much had changed.

“With the evidence you gave the FBI, there’s not a lawyer in the world that can save them. Even if a member’s hands aren’t dirty, the public shame will be enough to neutralize them for good,” Dick added with a bit of optimism.

But he could tell by Y/N’s face that she was having trouble accepting the truth.

He took a step toward her. 

“If there’s members of The Court that slipped out from underneath us, if any of them try to come after you, it’ll just prove to the world that The Court of Owls is still operating. And exposing that will be the last thing they’ll want.”

She tried to force a small smile and nod, but it was unconvincing.

Dick closed the space between them and grabbed her hands.

“Y/N, you did it.”

“It’s really over,” she whispered, staring into his deep blue eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded.

Then Dick’s focus shifted. He looked her up and down. “Y/N, you should really get some rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

Y/N sighed. “I think I’m gonna take a shower.” She smirked, “Get all that death off me.”

Dick frowned. “Not funny.”

“Jason would think it’s funny,” Y/N teased as she walked to the bathroom.

He playfully glared at her. “I’ll give you some space. But I’ll be down in the cave if you need me.”

Dick only got a few steps before Y/N called his name as if she’d forgotten something and rushed to him.

He looked at her expectantly.

Y/N stepped forward and locked her arms around Dick and buried her face into his shoulder. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as his hands rubbed her back soothingly and he pulled her closer.

Dick wanted to tell Y/N that she didn’t have to thank him. He saved her life and he would do it again and again and again, and he would never expect gratitude for it. Because Dick knew that it was just as much for him as it was for her.

So instead he just held her in silence and felt the warmth from her body – the same body that had been ice cold and lifeless just days before.

When they finally pulled away, Dick was studying her face to make sure she was alright to be left alone.

He gave her one last look before leaving her.

Y/N took her time in the shower, making the water as hot as her skin would allow without giving it burns. There wasn’t a single bruise or cut on her. Her fingers traced over the place on her abdomen where the katana had been shoved through. 

There was nothing.

She wondered if there was a price to pay for such magic. Would she be held accountable? Or would it be Dick’s friend who faced the consequences?

Y/N didn’t know how long she’d been showering, but when she finally walked out, the bathroom was filled with too much steam.

She quickly put on sweatpants and a t-shirt when her stomach started growling. She couldn’t even remember when her last meal had been.

Y/N moved to her door after deciding that going straight to the kitchen was quite necessary.

But she stopped as she heard footsteps walking past her room in the hall.

She froze, thinking it was Bruce.

What would she say to him? Would he be angry with her? Would he not react at all to her resurrection? What would hurt her more between the two?

But it wasn’t Bruce. 

Tim and Damian were walking down the hallway.

“How much longer do you think he’ll stay?” She heard Damian ask.

“I don’t know. I heard the Titans have been bugging him to come back,” Tim answered. “I’m sure Kori misses him and has been texting.”

Damian just hummed in acknowledgment.

Y/N realized her hand was suspended over the doorknob.

And she had a realization: she was safe to leave.

But more importantly, she wasn’t the only one that could return to their “normal” life: so could Dick, so could everyone else in the family.

Soon, Tim would go back to his condo in the city. Jason would stop working so closely with the family he tried to disown and he’d probably stop coming around manor so often – if ever. And Bruce…Bruce would move on to new cases and return to the usual patrolling.  

Y/N turned and looked at the bedroom that had become her new home in the past few months. Her personality was nowhere to be found inside. It wasn't actually hers. She was just one of its many visitors. 

Y/N grabbed her duffle bag from underneath the queen-sized bed and started throwing her belongings into it.

Ten minutes later, Y/N had her jacket and shows on, and all of her belongings were packed in her bag. 

She still had to deal with all her equipment that was sitting in the cave. But that was a problem for another day. Right now, she didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with it. She needed to leave – before she changed her mind.

-

Y/N was just yards from the front door when she heard his voice.

“Y/N?” Dick asked just loud enough to catch her.

She froze in place.

While her back was still to him, she closed her eyes in grievance from the failure of being spotted.

She slowly turned around.

“You trying to sneak out of here?” Dick asked.

It was meant to sound teasing, but she heard his disappointment loud and clear.

“It’s about time I get out of your hair.” 

“We’re not exactly kicking you out…” Dick tried to joke.

“You said so yourself: it’s safe for me now.” She sighed and walked closer to him. “Look, I just…I need some time alone.”

Dick took it a bit too personally. Were they really that exhausting to be around? He thought she had started to see them as her own family. He thought things were OK.

“At least let me drive you,” he offered quietly.

“I called a cab. It’s waiting for me outside.”

Before Dick could say anything else, she quickly turned and made her escape.

Y/N knew what she was scared of. She was scared he’d tell her he was leaving Gotham now that the case had been solved. But she was even more scared that he’d tell her he was staying. 

She wasn’t ready to deal with either scenario.

So, Y/N did what she did best: she ran.

————————

Y/N stared at the wall of her safe house.

The silence that she had once grown used to long ago was now irritating.

Y/N hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to the chaos of Wayne Manor until she had torn herself away from it. Even when it was quiet there, she could feel the presence of everyone.

Now she was left only to her thoughts.

And just she was about to escape the silence and go grab food at a nearby diner, there was a knock on the door.

Y/N knew for a fact that this safe-house hadn’t be blown yet – and that included with the Wayne family. It was exactly why she chose to come here instead of the one where Bruce first found her and dragged her to Wayne Manor for her own safety.

Which was why Y/N grabbed one of her guns and checked to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off before she tiptoed to the door.

She looked through the peep hole and her stomach twisted when she saw Bruce Wayne was on the other side.

She knew he could sense her presence on the other side, and there was no hiding. So she opened the door quickly.

Bruce eyed the gun in her hand. “This has become a habit of yours.”

Y/N ignored his comment, uncocked the gun, and carefully placed it on a table near the door.

When she was finally able to take Bruce in, she noted that his face was covered in bruises and small cuts. To be honest, Y/N expected more damage after being a witness to his near-death beating. 

“May I come in?” Bruce asked softly.

She blinked rapidly, realizing she had yet to invite him inside.

This was all reminiscent of that night.

And Y/N didn’t appreciate the memories and feelings Bruce was stirring up.

An awkward silence settled between them. The silence of her apartment was doing nothing to help.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N knew the question was sincere, but Bruce still managed to ask it without showing any ounce of emotion – as if he wasn’t personally invested in the matter. 

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly. Her eyes softened. “Are you okay?”

He simply nodded.

Silence again.

“You can never do that again,” Bruce declared.

“Do what?”

“You risked your life to save mine. The boys refused to tell me what happened, but I saw the footage. You threw yourself in front of me.”

Y/N remained calm as she said, “You did the same for me.”

Bruce shook his head. Because they both knew it wasn’t the same thing.

The truth was that Bruce woke up to find Dick crying over Y/N’s dead body. And then a few minutes he had watched as Dick begged Zatanna to help him.

And Bruce? Bruce had been unconscious when Y/N had needed him the most.

He had protected her all these months – with his own family and his own home – just to be useless in her final moment of need.

When Bruce finally woke up recovered to find out that Y/N had fled the manor, he knew he needed to go to her. He needed to make sure she never did something so stupid as risking her life to save him.

But now Bruce stood before her and he knew he needed to tell her so much more than just that.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? Did you just plan on lecturing me again?”

But Bruce wasn’t realized he couldn’t use any words tonight.

Ever so slowly, he stepped into her space, putting less and less space between their bodies. Y/N could feel the heat coming from him. And she sucked in a gasp from his proximity. She breathed in his cologne that she’d grown to love so much that it instantly relaxed her.

Her heart beat faster and faster as his eyes shifted down to her lips, hesitating in a way that was excruciating to Y/N. But it gave her time to resist, to allow her to shut this down before it could continue.

But Y/N didn’t want to do that.

Bruce brushed her hair away from her face, then his hands shifted slightly to cup her face. His touch wasn’t soft, but insistent.

He pressed his lips to Y/Ns. Brisk and determined. 

The tension finally snapped and pushed them to a passionate kiss that was long overdo.

Was this only going to cause them both more pain in the future?

Or was this what they should’ve done long ago?

Bruce pushed Y/N against a wall.

And then everything became a blur.

Bruce picked Y/N up and wrapped her legs around his waist for her, silently instructing her. 

Clothes were unzipped and unbuttoned, and thrown around the apartment without thought.

Their breathing was heavy and reactive to the way their hands raced across each other’s now naked skin. 

For never being at this particular safe house, Bruce found his way to the bed with ease.

From the movement of their bodies and obvious desire for one another, one thing became clear: they were never meant to only share one night together.

————

Y/N had tried with all her might to stay awake – even if that meant pulling an all-nighter.

She was trying to break the pattern. And even though Bruce had exhausted her body to no end, she didn’t want to wake up to find his side of the bed empty.

But she was shocked to open her eyes and find not only that Bruce was still in her bed, but that she had been sleeping on his bare chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Y/N could feel that he was awake. Apparently he was much more disciplined than her.

Little did she know Bruce hadn’t slept at all, not wanting to miss the feeling of her against him. 

Y/N slowly lifted her head, “Hi.”

He smirked at the sleepiness in her voice.

“Hi."

“Didn’t expect you to be here still,” she admitted quietly.

“I can leave if you want.” And he meant it, even though it would hurt.

“No,” she scolded him in a breathy gasp.

The tension in his body released. 

Y/N shifted off of his chest

“And where do you think you’re going?” Bruce questioned.

She shifted so she was no longer resting on his chest, but laying on her side beside him so she could see his face.

“I just wanted to look at you,” she whispered innocently.

Bruce smirked at her answer.

Y/N made sure the bed sheet was successfully covering her nudity.

Bruce seemed amused with her sudden modesty, but said nothing of it.

“How did you find me here?” Y/N asked him.

It had been the first thing she’d wanted to ask when he showed up to her door last night. But Bruce hadn’t exactly given her a lot of space to speak last night.

Bruce’s jaw tightened, which was a message in its own. 

“Bruceeeee,” Y/N pushed back with irritation.

“You aren’t going to like the answer.”

She glared at him. “Did you put a fucking tracker on me, Bruce Wayne?”

“Your phone.”

“When?” She asked.

“After you tried to turn yourself in to the Talons.”

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed by the answer.

They both knew she could easily disable it now that she knew about it. Even if he hadn’t confessed it, she would’ve figured it out on her own eventually.

“You’re upset,” Bruce observed.  

“How would you feel if I did the same to you? But it’s…you. And I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Need I remind you that we only met because you blackmailed me and threatened to expose my identity to the world?”

“You know that wasn’t the same,” she shot back as she rolled her eyes. 

“You’re right.” Bruce sighed. “I promise I will deactivate it.”

“No,” Y/N surprised him by saying. “But I will make you a deal…you can always know where I am if I can know the same for you.”

Bruce knew this was a test. Because Y/N expected him to immediately shoot down such an offer. Couldn’t such information be used against Batman?

“Deal,” he agreed.

Y/N was so shocked by his compliance that her overwhelming emotions forced her to lean into him and capture his lips in a kiss.

“Should I make us breakfast?” She whispered to him after barely pulling away from his lips. 

She lightly bumped her nose against his. 

Bruce nodded with a grin.

But before Y/N could ask what he wanted, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Her heart raced at the thought of another intrusion – and a less welcomed one.  

Bruce frowned, but remained calm.

“Stay here,” he warned before placing a light kiss on her bare shoulder.

Before she could argue, he slipped out of bed.

He put his boxer briefs on, but didn’t bother with a shirt or pants.

Even though Bruce told Y/N to stay put, she still figured a mysterious knock on the door was a sign to put clothes on.

She practically threw on her underwear, but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing she had on yesterday. Yet somehow she found Bruce’s white button down and quickly buttoned on to give herself some semblance of decency.

Bruce looked through the peephole. 

He held his breath.

Bruce would’ve rather it been an attempted attack on Y/N than…this.

“Y/N, I know you’re there,” Dick called from the other side of the door.

Bruce knew she couldn’t hear him. But he knew there was no other choice than to open the door.

Bruce looked apathetic as he faced his first protégé.

But Dick knew Bruce well enough to see that there was guilt hidden underneath.

He took in Bruce’s attire – or really, the lack there of.

Dick huffed out a laugh, “Of course. I should’ve known better.”

He shook his head and turned to leave.

Bruce slammed the door shut and rubbed his face in distress.

Before he could even think of something to say to Y/N, she rushed past him and threw the door open again.

“Dick! Wait!” Y/N called to him and caught him in the hallway.

By some miracle, Dick stopped and turned to her.

He looked her up and down, lingering far too long on the white button down she was wearing that so clearly belonged to Bruce.

“Needed some time alone, huh?” 

Throwing Y/N’s own words back at her was meant to come out harsh and cold. But it ended up sounding heartbroken and betrayed.

And, honestly, that was worse to Y/N.

She have any idea what to say to him.

What would even make him feel better?

So, Y/N just watched Dick slowly walk away.

She stepped back into the safe house with tears in her eyes.

Bruce immediately moved to her. 

“Y/N–”

But Y/N shook her head, stopping him from saying anything more.

“I should go,” Bruce told her. 

He couldn’t help himself as he reached to wipe her tears away.

“I should probably give you your shirt back,” she said between sniffles.

Had the situation been different, it would’ve sounded funny. 

But there was no humor here. 

Bruce’s innocent touch of wiping her tears away made it hard for Y/N to concentrate.

So she escaped into the bedroom and quickly changed into her own clothes.

When she walked back out, she had all of Bruce’s stuff in her arms.

Once Bruce was in his clothes again, he didn’t know what to do or say next.

It was hard for Bruce to leave Y/N when she was so visibly upset. Dick wasn’t here to make Y/N feel better this time...and that was all Bruce’s fault.

“I’m not used to saying bye to you,” Y/N finally broke the tension.

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

A sad look flashed across her face as she processed her thoughts. “Usually I wake up…and you’re gone. You don’t even give me a chance to.”

Bruce bowed his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he finally admitted to her.

Y/N nodded slowly, agreeing with him.

“But you did,” she whispered. 

Her voice sounded congested from all the tears she just shed. 

“And all this time, I let myself think it was OK or even that I was the one who had messed it all up.”

Bruce quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N.”

Her eyes darkened. “Why did you have to make it so hard to stay away from you, Bruce?”

An he knew he deserved that. “I’ve been selfish,” he confessed.

Bruce hesitated before giving her a slow kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time Y/N had ever seen him unsure of himself.

Without saying anything more, he turned and left.

“Goodbye, Bruce.” Y/N whispered long after he could still hear her.

----------------------------------------

Part XI

Did I ruin your life? Let me know 😂

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

series taglist: @angelreyesgirl89 @holl2712 @relaxing-najee @thedeviltohisangel @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @amorestevens @witching-hour @seize-the-droid @rosieposie0624 @sesamepancakes @est1887 @queenbeered @ticosas @blessedboo @helli4nthus @katjusja @melanicia @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @moneteguiza

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[fexieyes]

It's not the right time (Fexi fanfic)

Summary: After watching Stand By Me, Fezco and Lexi got romantic and they didn’t just hold hands.They both nervously mentioned that they didn’t know what they were doing, that was their first time. But it felt fine and they didn’t say it out loud but they knew it was the best night of their lives.Now, in the present, they are both thinking about the same night. Now, in the present, they are both thinking about the same night. One of them it's in a deep sleep in a hospital bed, with several cops guarding the door, and the other one is in her best friend’s bathroom while she’s holding a pregnancy test. 

Chapter 1: the play

I take a deep breath as I look at the girl in the mirror. She's not okay. I mean, yes on the inside she's happy but on the outside, her face has bags under her eyes and nausea that didn't want to go away after her mother gave her a pill for it. Maybe she's a little high, what did her mother give to her?

I decide to blame it all on the play. I feel anxious and nervous and I only want to throw up but it’s gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay.

But there is something that I don't feel is right. A feeling that does not leave my body. I shake my head as I take a deep breath (again) I'm just being paranoid, the play opens today that's why I'm like this. And besides, I have to get my period, like... what day is it today? March 10th? It's March? Really?

When was the last time I had my period? Cassie was at home. We went to Walmart for pads and ice cream. That was like the end of January. I remember because it was a few days after I started texting Fezco regularly. We even had a conversation about it. I just said I felt sick and he casually asked if he was on "my lady day" which made me burst out laughing.

I should have had my period by now. But maybe I've been so nervous that's why I didn't get it, right?

Oh fuck.

I bit my lip covered in red lipstick. Obviously, all these things are because of the play. But I remember that rainy day in which I don't know how but Fezco and I did something that I haven't been able to say out loud yet. Something twists in my stomach while I try to remember if either of us in that moment of euphoria thought of some form of protection. It was each other's first time, and it was awesome. I've been thinking about that night for weeks and when I went home the next morning I had a text from Fezco.

Fezco

Was it all alright?

I was frozen when I read that message.

me

What do you mean?

Fezco

you know Lex... the stuff we did last night

did u enjoy it

I just giggled because I could imagine a nervous Fezco waiting for my answer.

me

It was the best night I've ever had.

Read the first episode here.

[literaila]

dwindling heartbeats

spencer x reader 

request: hi!! could you write an angsty spencer x reader fic where reader and spencer are dating but reader ends up the main suspect in a case? i had a dream about it and i would love you to write it haha. you can come up with the ending (like wether reader was the unsub or not). thank you and i love your writing so so much and i think you could write it really well!!

warnings: criminal mind things, mentions of pain in all forms, anxiety, fear, anticipation? 

She liked the way heartbeats sounded. 

She liked to listen to them, beating. Quietly but forcefully. 

She liked to listen to his heart as he slept. She liked to lay her chest on his head, to breathe in and out with him. She liked it when she could hear his heart flutter, over and over. 

She liked to stay awake while he slept. She liked to watch his eyes dance with dreams, liked to watch his sweet smiles dead into the night. She liked to stay awake far later than he could, just so that she could catch these moments. These precious little moments she couldn't seem to get enough of. 

She liked to listen to his heart. She liked to listen while her cheek was on his chest, while he held her close to him even in his sleep. She liked to listen to the cautious beating, the strength of his heart. She liked to listen to his heart dwindle off as she slowly fell asleep. She liked to listen to- 

She always fell asleep eventually. Always closed her eyes just in time to hear his heart pound once more. She always stayed awake for that moment. 

Spencer didn't know. 

Of course, he was sleeping, there was no way he could know. And the nights when she stayed up until he woke, until it was morning and the sun was shining through his blinds, and the bed was so warm. Those mornings when she forgot to fall asleep at all. He still didn't know. She always pretended to be half asleep, pretended as she had just woken up. And he had never suspected a thing. 

She liked to stay up late. To listen to the world breathe when everyone else fell asleep. She liked the quiet, the mystery that came with night. She liked how dark it was, how silent everyone could be, how peaceful the wind was when it knew not to wake any of the humans up. She liked to stay up late. 

And listen to Spencer's heart. To watch his eyelashes flutter against his cheek. And watch him smile silently. 

She liked the way hearts beat. 

*

Spencer didn't expect to wake up alone. 

He thought of the night before. Thought of all the words and all the laughs the two of them had shared. He thought about the wine they drank, the food they ate. 

She was here with him, just last night. 

So he hadn't expected to wake up alone. 

Usually, when she stayed the night, she would promise that she’d be there in the morning. Usually, Spencer woke up to soft kisses against his cheek, fake biting on his neck. Usually, Spencer woke up with her still in his arms, exactly as she had been the night before. 

But this morning, his bed was cold, he woke up to his alarm, and his girlfriend was nowhere to be found. 

It was strangely dark in his room. Not sunny like most mornings. It was strange.

Spencer got out of bed within ten minutes, he figured that Y/N had needed to go do something, that she would text him later and apologize for leaving so early. 

He wondered how he hadn't noticed her getting out of bed. He was usually a light sleeper. 

He got dressed, already running late for work. He was lucky no one had called him in yet, lucky that the serial killers seemed to be taking a break this morning. 

But right as he had that thought, his phone rang. 

*

The cuffs were digging into her wrists. Bruises forming while the clock ticked. 

At first, she had struggled, screamed at them to let her go, that she hadn't done anything. 

But after ten minutes of that, she’d given up. Her body and her mind both done with trying to fight back. Done with trying to fight at all. 

They were holding her in a room, one similar to the interrogation rooms she’d seen on TV so many times. In the shows where the criminal always got caught. It was cold, her chair was uncomfortable, and these handcuffs were digging into her wrists. 

The cop had left five minutes ago, promising her that they would carry on soon enough. 

If she was being honest, she barely had any idea what was going on. 

All she knew was that she had planned to go get breakfast for her and Spencer. She got up early, after only a couple of hours asleep, and she’d left his apartment, making sure that she didn't lock it so that she could come back soon. So that he wouldn't have the chance to wake up before she got back. She’d been planning to surprise him. 

But when she was walking on the street, a man had approached her, his badge out, his face stern. It was then and there that she had been arrested. Put into handcuffs, sat in the back of a police car while they drove her to the station. 

She was so high on adrenaline she couldn't remember if they had ever told her why she was being arrested. She couldn't remember if the man had ever said anything, if he had ever done anything but accuse her and then tie her up. She just couldn't remember. 

But her palms were sweaty. She was nervous, even if she didn't think she had done anything wrong. They had brought her in for a reason, hadn't they? They had something against her, some evidence that would prove her guilty for whatever crime she had committed. 

God, she wished Spencer was there. He would know what was going on. He would talk to her. He would tell her that she hadn't done anything wrong, that it was going to be okay. It was going to be just fine. 

She had just gone to get them breakfast. 

And now, and now she was sitting in a grey room alone, practically thousands of miles away from anyone else, from any civilization. She was cold and tired and these handcuffs were bruising and pulling on her wrists over and over. 

She wanted to cry. She really wanted to go home. 

Why was she so nervous? 

Why was she there? 

Where was Spencer? 

*

Hotch had pulled him back. As soon as he saw her, Hotch was stepping in his way. 

None of them had known. No one had told them anything about a suspect until they were already at the police station, already standing there looking at them. Looking at her. At the girl who they were all familiar with. 

When Spencer had first arrived at work, all he knew was that there was a new case. He knew that there were five people dead. Five people in the past three weeks. He was told that those five people probably weren't all, that all of the evidence was pointing to a rapidly devolving unsub, one that wouldn't stop until caught. He knew that all of the bodies were found with multiple stab wounds and head force trauma. 

He knew that they were supposed to find whoever was doing this, that he was supposed to help them find the unsub. 

But, after a long car ride and many unanswered texts to his girlfriend, he had never expected to see her sitting in a chair so close to him. He had never expected to see her looking around mindlessly, like all of the people who sat in those kinds of rooms did. He hadn't expected to see her next in handcuffs, with wild hair, messy makeup, and tear stains running down her face. 

They hadn't even known that there was a suspect yet. They had only been called in this morning. 

And Hotch was holding him back. 

“Reid.” He said, probably more than once, but Spencer wasn't listening. He was looking at his girlfriend. 

She wasn't looking back. 

“Detective, no one mentioned anything about a suspect. Why hasn't anyone told us?” Derek said, already catching on to the situation. Rossi and Morgan took steps forward, in front of Spencer so that he couldn't go any further, while Hotch kept his hand on Spencer's shoulder. Holding him back still. 

Emily and JJ both seemed to get the hint, they moved on to checking over the files again. 

But none of them could hide their glances over to her. 

Her. 

Spencer's girlfriend, the one that they had all met multiple times. The girl that had changed Spencer so deeply. The usually happy girl, smiling like there was no tomorrow. The girl who was usually right at Spencer's side. The first girl that Spencer hadn't been able to hide from any of them. She was his girlfriend. 

She was sitting a room away, handcuffed to a table. 

“We only just picked her up this morning, after security evidence came back from the last crime scene.” The Detective answered, no doubt suspicious of the behaviors of the team. It didn't take much brainpower to see that they weren't thinking all that rationally. 

“Has anyone been in to talk with her?” Rossi asked. 

“We’ve been backed up all morning and-” Hotch stopped him with the palm of his hand. Telling him with only a motion that he didn't need excuses. Spencer was on fire, furious with the detective, furious that anyone assumed that she would do anything, that his girlfriend would cause any harm. 

“I can talk to her,” he said, breathing out the anger, trying to remove Hotch’s grip from his shoulder. His eyes were crazed, he ran a hand through his hair, desperate to hear her voice assure him she was okay. 

“Reid.” Hotch said again, his face stern, his thoughts not wavering on this one. Spencer couldn't talk to her, it would be a violation, and a terrible idea. A bad situation for the two of them. 

Rossi had moved the detective away from them, knowing that what Spencer needed was a moment of privacy, and started distracting him with questions of his own. Questions about the crime scene, about the evidence against Y/N. 

Derek walked over to the two of his friends, facing toward the room with Y/N in it. 

“I can do it,” he said, whispering so only the three of them could hear. “It won't be a violation of any rules, and I think she’d do well with someone she's familiar with.” He continued, his eyes now focused on Spencer, and how angry he looked at just the thought of not being able to go in and talk to her. 

“Morgan..” Hotch said, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. 

“Hotch, the kids not going to let one of the cops here talk to her, and you’re not going to let him. I can do it.” He assured, face lack of any emotion. He wanted to prove he could be rational. That he could be professional even with Spencer's girlfriend. 

Hotch finally nodded, dragging Reid, who was scowling at the sight of his girlfriend still, farther away. “Spencer, maybe you should take a moment. Collect yourself. Go get some air.” he said, trying not to sound like a boss, but rather a friend. Trying to give Spencer the hint that he didn't want him watching. 

Spencer didn't catch on, too distracted with Y/N.

“I’m staying here.” 

Spencer was firm on that. He couldn't leave her. He didn't know why, or what she had done, but he knew that it was a misunderstanding. He knew that as soon as she was let out of that room he wanted to be there. He knew that she was going to be traumatized, that she probably already was. He couldn't leave her. He wouldn't leave her to be alone with a bunch of accusing strangers. 

“Spencer-” 

“I’m staying here,” he repeated, moving his eyes away from her for just a second, just so he could make his point clear to Hotch. 

And after that, Hotch didn't try to make him leave. 

*

She was almost asleep by the time the door finally opened.

The police officer from earlier had promised that they would get to her soon, that she would be let out of the cuffs as soon as she could be questioned. But it felt like hours since then, and she was sure that whoever that cop was, he was a liar. 

She was beginning to get restless, bored with this situation, with not knowing what was going on. She was tired and angry, and all she really wanted to do was go home and listen to Spencer’s heart some more. That would help. She wondered if she could ask. 

She shook the thought out of her head. Looked around the room again. Looked for anything to keep her awake. 

She wanted to rub her eyes, wanted to get some of the sleep out of her system, wanted to be alert again so she wouldn't miss anything else. But her hand was asleep, her wrists were sore, and she still couldn't move. 

She still had no idea what was going on. 

She was almost asleep when the door finally opened. 

When the familiar face walked into the room. 

“Y/N,” Derek said, nodding at her, taking in her obvious distress. 

But when she saw him, her mood visibly changed. She almost brightened, almost become someone completely different from the person she was five seconds ago. Her restlessness was gone, she was no longer tired, her eyes widening as he sat down in front of her. She was happy to see someone familiar, someone who wouldn't immediately accuse her. 

“Derek,” she said, a smile now accompanying her face. Her eyes were no longer sullen, no longer looking around the room confused. 

She sat up. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, wanting to get pleasantries out of the way before he had to question her. He hated that Spencer was behind the glass, was watching them. He hated that he had to do this to his friend's girlfriend in front of him. He hated that he knew Spencer would be listening to every word, that he would be counting the minutes down until Derek could prove that she was innocent. 

“Why am I here?” She asked instead of answering his question. Ignoring it. Derek was shocked to see that she was actually being serious. Her question was warranted. She was actually confused. 

“Didn't the cop that arrested you explain everything?” 

Derek, and Y/N for that matter, both knew that it was protocol for police to explain why they were arresting someone. They both knew that if they had broken that rule, this situation could change significantly. 

She nodded, then upon seeing his confusion, continued. “I can't remember what they said, I was scared. I don't remember anything after they handcuffed me.” 

Derek was still confused. She wasn't someone who would panic in a moment of fear, she wouldn't lose her memories just because she was scared. 

This entire situation was strange. 

“You’re being charged with the murder of five people.” 

And, then, her face changed. 

Went from complete curiosity, to dispair. In a fraction of a moment. 

Her eyebrows creased, her lips frowned, she was staring at the ground, her entire body tensed at Derek’s words. 

And her mood was flipped again. 

Tears ran down her face. 

She was confused, and worried, and terrified. She had no idea how she could be in this situation? How she could be thought of as a murder? She had no idea why, no idea how, no idea what to do. 

“What?” she whispered. Her voice was failing her, her chest was collapsing, her mind was running in circles. 

“They have security tapes of you exiting a building, moments after Samantha Brith was killed in a pharmacy three miles from here.” 

She was almost asleep by the time she heard the words. 

*

Spencer hated watching this. 

He hated that he wasn't in there with her. Hated that he never called her when he woke up, that he didn't think anything of her being gone except for that it was strange. He was angry and confused, and he didn't know when they could have gotten the video of her. 

He’d watched it. Once. But multiple times in his head. He replayed it with every question that Derek asked, remembered that she was supposed to be with Spencer that night. That they were asleep when that happened. 

How could she be there? 

The rest of the team was busy profiling the actual murderer. They were trying to find evidence that provided a different solution other than Y/N. All of them knew that it couldn't be her, it obviously couldn't be, they just had to prove it. Because it wasn't her. 

Hotch came to talk to Spencer every couple of minutes. Made sure that he was still okay. 

Which he wasn't, but the thought was nice. 

Hotch also asked him questions. Wondered how many serial killers devolved as fast as this one was, wondered how exhausting it would be to cause that much harm against a living person. He asked Spencer these questions, and he always got an answer, but Spencer wasn't really listening. 

He was watching her. Always watching her. He watched her move her hair out of her eyes, watched her mood change with every question. He watched her hesitate with her answers, saw her confusion. 

He watched her with desperation, with another feeling that he didn't know how to describe. 

He wondered why she looked so scared. He supposed he could guess the answer. He supposed he would be scared too.

“Spencer,” Hotch spoke, checking on him for the seventh time. “JJ and Emily are going to go ask the bank owner some questions, to gather information about the crime scene of the third body.” He spoke as if Spencer was listening as if he cared when his girlfriend was being interrogated in front of him. “Spencer?” 

“Hmm?” he said, still not really listening. 

“How is she?” Hotch asked, getting his attention for the first time. 

“She seems okay, she looks better than um, earlier,” Spencer said, never once looking at Hotch, keeping his eyes on her. 

“Okay. She's going to be alright you know?” 

Spencer nodded. 

He watched her some more. Felt the desperation in his chest. Felt the fear building in his brain. 

*

When she finally asked for Spencer, the questioning was over. 

Derek had asked her so many questions, some that she didn't know how to answer. 

No, she didn't remember where she was on the 15th, she didn't know what time she got in bed, she didn't know any of the victims, she didn't know she didn't know. She kept repeating it over and over. No. No. No. No. 

She felt like screaming. 

It seemed like she didn't know anything. Why didn't she know anything? 

But, as soon as Derek nodded, told her that he had asked enough. She asked. 

“Is Spencer here?” 

She couldn't see him wince at his name from the other side of the wall. She didn't see him lean in a little bit closer to her. 

“Yes. He's outside.” Derek said, offering her a smile. One that was small, one that didn't really do anything to ease the feeling in her stomach. 

“Can I talk to him?” She asked, her eyes hopeful, her shoulders relaxing with the news that he was there. With the thought that he wasn't far away, that she wasn't alone anymore. 

“I don't-” Derek cleared his throat “I don't know if that's a good idea.” 

She wanted to cry. Wanted to scream at this friend of hers. Wanted to break through these handcuffs and go to see him. She just wanted to. 

She nodded hesitantly. “O-okay. But um, if I can, I’d like to.” She swallowed her scream, forced her tears down her throat, and tried not to pull on the cuffs. Her wrists hurt too much. 

Derek nodded, felt ashamed to not have an answer for her. Felt terrible that two of his friends both wanted the same thing so desperately and he couldn't give it to either of them. 

When he exited the room, leaving her alone once again, Hotch and Spencer were talking in front of the door. Arguing. 

“She asked!” 

“Reid you know I can't let you-” 

“Hotch she's probably terrified! She needs someone to talk to her, we don't even know what happened yet!” 

“Spencer-” 

“Please!” 

Derek sighed, rubbing his eyes as he walked over to the two of them. Spencer was getting irritated, no longer just at the police, but now at Hotch. 

"Hotch," Derek said, interrupting their conversation before it could go any further. 

"How is she?" Hotch asked, Spencer, staring at him in disbelief. 

"How is she Hotch?! She's pretty fucking terrible I'd assume." He scoffed, turning away from the other two men to watch his girlfriend wipe tears from her eyes. 

His beautiful girlfriend. Alone. A murderer. 

He almost laughed at the thought. 

"Spencer," Hotch said, using a voice similar to one he used with Jack. Spencer was testing his limits, being disrespectful, not following rules. Not acting like himself. 

"She's relieved that we're here," Derek answered, watching Spencer stare at her, giving Hotch a fearful look. 

Spencer muttered something that neither of them could hear. 

"Does she have solid alibis?" 

"She doesn't remember much from those nights. Everything is blurred Hotch. I don't know." Derek sighed again, exhausted. 

Hotch lowered his voice to ask his next question. "Do you think it's her?" 

But even when he whispered, Spencer could hear him. 

And the sudden fury he felt in his chest was expected. 

"Of course it's not her! She would never do that!" He had never expected Hotch to be doubtful. He felt betrayed at the inference that he would ever love someone who could murder all those people. He had expected his friends, his family, to have his back. To have her back. 

"I'm talking to her." Spencer said, a final statement to the two men. He was finally finished listening to everyone else talk, finally finished listening to anything.

"Spencer-" he heard from behind him as he opened the door. 

As he walked into the room. 

To her. 

*

"Spencer," 

The relief was palpable in her voice. Her body fell apart immediately at the feel of Spencer's hand against hers. It was such a feeling, so different than before. It was like she could finally breathe, she finally knew how to speak. 

Now that he was here. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered, wrapping her hand in both of his, hating how cold she felt. 

She wished she could move closer to him, wished she wasn't chained down. Wished they were still in bed. Wished he would hold her again. 

"I'm fine," she whispered back, her eyes concerned. More worried about him than she was about herself. 

"You're so cold," Spencer responded, ignoring her lies, ignoring how scared she still looked. He was so glad to be next to her. To be talking to her. "Are your wrists okay?" he asked once he looked down, seeing the red marks around the wrist that was chained to the table. 

"I'm fine Spence." She answered, trying to smile at him. 

They both sat there for a moment, both remembering the pleasant night they'd had together last night, both thinking about moments that weren't like this one. Moments that weren't quite so scary. 

And finally, when they had both breathed in all the time together they could spare, when they had finally used up all the oxygen in the room, Spencer spoke up. 

His words brought miles between them. 

"You didn't do it?" he said it as if the words hurt him. Like those words would hurt him more than they would hurt her. 

She didn't see how that could be possible. 

"I don't-" she started, her voice shaking as she felt the feeling in her stomach again. The nauseous feeling. The terrifying one. 

"You- you didn't do it? R-right?" Spencer asked again, looking up at her. 

And she saw it in his eyes. She saw it. And she knew the answer. 

"Right." She breathed out, squeezing his hand. 

And Spencer nodded, nodded like the words had solved everything like the words had removed this handcuff from her wrist like he could walk her home now. Like everything was fine. 

"Okay," he said, giving her one of his small smiles. "Okay." He said, again, squeezing back. 

Okay. 

She didn't do it. 

"I'm going to get you out of here." 

"Spencer-" 

"I'm going to get you out of here. Okay?" 

She nodded. Spencer took a breath in. 

Okay. 

*

She remembered that night. 

She remembered the cold wind against her cheek. 

She remembered the hand around her waist. 

She remembered that feeling. 

She'd basked in it. 

She'd lived completely numb from that feeling. 

And then she'd found it. 

She felt the kissssssss against her cheek. 

So soft. 

*

"Reid." 

Spencer figured that Hotch was going to yell at him, maybe suspend him in the worst-case scenario. He knew that what he did was disrespectful, but he didn't regret it. 

How could he when he got to talk to her? How could he regret getting to hold her hand? Getting to hear her voice when she was with him again? Getting to be next to her? 

He couldn't. He just couldn't regret it, even if he knew it was wrong. 

But when Spencer went to Hotch, there was no reprimanding. Hotch didn't even look mad. Just concerned. His eyes were hesitant, and when he put a hand on Spencer's shoulder, there was nothing but fear in his eyes. 

fear. 

Why fear? 

"What?" Spencer asked, confused. Why wasn't he yelling at him? 

"Reid." 

"What Hotch?" Spencer asked again, more insistent, starting to get worried. He felt that feeling in his stomach. 

"We found something." 

Spencer listened carefully. 

*

She remembered the cold air against her skin. 

She remembered smiling. 

She remembered. 

*

"Before we got here, Y/N was asked for DNA. At one of the first crime scenes, there was DNA left behind, and the lead detective figured that if her DNA was a match, he would have all the evidence he needed." 

Spencer nodded. Still confused. 

He didn't see the silent shame Hotch felt. 

*

She liked heartbeats. She liked the in and out, she liked the wind, she liked lots of things. 

She liked it when she was alone, when she was with him. 

She liked she liked she lied. She liked. 

She liked heartbeats. 

*

"While you were in there.." 

Everyone slowly came over to the pair. 

All of Spencer's friends, going over to him, all of them with the same look on their faces. All of them worried. All of them concerned. 

Spencer looked back at Y/N. She looked upset. 

He wondered when he could get her out. 

He looked back at Hotch. 

*

She listened to him every night. But sometimes, she got bored. She got restless. She needed to do something. 

She was very good at sneaking out of bed without a notice, without waking Spencer up. 

It was fortunate. 

She left so many times. So many nights she snuck out. 

So many times. 

She always made it back for sunrise. 

*

"Spencer, Y/N's DNA..." 

Spencer nodded for him to continue. He needed Hotch to get to the point so that they could get her out, so that he could hurry up and get her away from here. 

He wanted to go home with her, wanted to see her smile her real smile again. He wanted this to all go away, wanted this fear in his mind to leave. 

Get to the point. 

"What Hotch?" 

*

She liked it. She hated it. 

She liked the quiet of night. She liked how mysssssterious it was. 

She liked it, oh god oh god. 

She wasn't going to throw up. 

Not again. 

Not this time. 

*

"It was a match." 

Everything. 

.

Everything. 

.

It had to be. 

.

It had to stop. 

.

.

Okay? 

*

She liked the way heartbeatss sounded. 

She liked to listen to them, beating. Quietly but forcefully. 

She liked to listen to his heart as he slept. She liked to lay her chest on his head, to breathe in and out with him. She liked it when she could hear his heart flutter, over and over. 

She liked to stay awake while he slept. She liked to watch his eyes dance with dreams, liked to watch his sweet smiles dead into the night. She liked to stay awake far later than he could, just so that she could catch these moments. These precious little moments she couldn't seem to get enough of. 

She liked to listen to his heart. She liked to listen while her cheek was on his chest, while he held her close to him even in his sleep. She liked to listen to the cautious beating, the strength of his heart. She liked to listen to his heart dwindle off as she slowly fell asleep. She liked to listen to heartbeats dwindling off as she watched. She liked to listen as they slowly disappeared. 

She liked to listen as they faded away. 

She was so tempting. 

She was a beacon in every room. Everywhere she went. She was a temptation far too charming to resist. 

Every night, she stared, watched someone's eyes. And she tempted them so far. 

She charmed them without a blink. Without a breath. 

She liked it. 

She didn't have to do anything before they were lured into her hands, pulled so far in by her wit, by her smile, by her eyes which were oh so hard to resist. 

She was irresistible. 

And a temptation none of them could ignore. Every one of them.

Every. Single. Time. 

She was perfect, far toooo perfect for them far too much far too many far too fun. 

She didn't have to think about it every night she snuck away. She didn't have to blink, she didn't have to breathe, she just had to stand there. Just had to feel the cold wind on her chest, on her cheek. She just had to listen. 

As the heartbeats dwindled away. 

As they faded into the distance. 

She was far too perfect to resist. Far too perfect. She was so smart, so charming, so much all at once. And she always knew how to catch them. She knew how to lead, lead them to the end of the earth. She knew she knew how to push them off when they weren't looking. Push them so far, too farrrrr off the edge. 

She knew how to kiss them so soft, so quiet as they were done, she knew what she was doing. 

She remembered everything. Every night. 

She snuck back in bed, she listened to his heart. She liked the way it dwindled off as she fell asleep, the way it faded. 

She liked it. 

Heartbeats. Disappearing.

* 

my masterlist here. 

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First date: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,196 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin felt like a drink. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so absolutely out of the question, but it didn’t stop him from craving it. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. Nana’s PA had just been to pick up Arin for the weekend – Thank God. Finally she would be able to spend time with her mom after a month, which he was over the moon about, and selfishly, that meant his date with you could go ahead. Even if he was so nervous he could throw up. 

Work had been a great distraction for the past two days but once he’d woken up this morning the realisation had dawned on him. He was going on a date tonight. His first in a decade. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with it and asked you to dinner. He’d faced his fears, possibly made a fool of himself and shared too much about his personal life in the process, but you hadn’t seemed to mind at all. You were so easy to talk to, it was refreshing. He’d felt brave for the first time in months – years.   But it still didn’t stop him from being on pins as soon as he’d opened his eyes this morning. 

He’d showered early, just after Arin had woken up and then he’d helped her get ready for the day too, allowing her to eat her breakfast in front of the television as he tried to swallow down his bowl of porridge too. It tasted like cardboard – but then again, it might have been his cooking. Misook usually made the food around her, when he wasn’t dining out or ordering take out of course. 

Arin had noticed his strange mood straight away. Obviously. 

“Daddy, what’s wrong with you this morning?” She’d asked, looking over at him warily before hesitating. “I am spending the weekend with mom, right?”

“Of course you are, sweetie” he’d rushed, shaking away the  surge of anger he’d felt. It pained him to know she was always expecting the worst lately. “Your mom just text me to say Jia is on her way.” 

She’d smiled then, her face lighting up and he couldn’t help but match it, his nerves disappearing for a while. That was until he was left all alone, the house now empty and silent. He eyed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter (where he’d left it after his small nightcap last night) and shook his head. He should drop you a text, just to check in and see if you were still on for tonight. He needed to find out what time to pick you up anyway. He probably should have messaged you the day before, he panicked suddenly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket. Oh well, there was no time for regrets, that’s what his father always said. 

It took him at least ten minutes to figure out what to say. His first draft sounded too cheerful, too false, he was trying way too hard and had added an examination point. His second was too formal, fifteen years of sending business emails back and forth obvious. He settled on something in the middle – he hoped.  

Unknown (9:32am)  Hi Y/N,  It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up.  Regards, Seokjin 

Only, reading it back after he hit send he began to second guess himself. Of course you knew who he was, his confidence might be lacking a little right now but he knew he wasn’t totally forgettable. What an idiot. Not that he could do much, there was no turning back. He’d committed. 

He busied himself with a bit of Saturday morning cleaning while he waited for your reply, and by that he meant straightening up the pillows he and Arin had been sitting against earlier. When he returned to the kitchen, your message was waiting for him. 

You (9:43am)  Of course, send the details. I trust your taste! 

See, exclamation points suited you. It was cute. He could just imagine you saying it in person, your dazzling smile, maybe that little giggle you’d made a few times on Wednesday. He felt something warm in his chest as he got lost in his thoughts, nerves easing once again. You were excited for tonight, he told himself.   Maybe you were even just as nervous as him possibly… 

He spent yet another few minutes composing his reply. A lot more casual this time, signing off with just his name. He didn’t always text like this, Namjoon could vouch for him, but he didn’t think you were both quite there yet. He wanted to show his best self after all. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to make you like him as much as he liked you. 

Seokjin (9:50am)  The sudden pressure… The restaurant’s name is KIM. I hope you like it. Is 7 alright to pick you up? I made reservations for 7:30.  Seokjin 

In truth, this restaurant was one he co-owned with his brother. Seokchul was the executive chef and they were both very proud of how successful their business venture had become. He knew taking you to such a place might seem like a cop-out – or worse, a brag – but that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to treat you in a place that meant a lot to him. He could have chosen multiple restaurants, he was a regular at quite a few and could easily get a great table, but see, that did seem like he was showing off and he did not want to give you that impression at all. It was the complete opposite of his personality. KIM was a good choice, he was sure of it, and it helped that his brother didn’t work weekends, so there was no risk of bumping into him. Although, he had let him know about the date (and had begged him not to spill to their mother). 

You (9:52am)  I will. 7 sounds perfect. I’ll send through my address. See you later! 

You followed up with a Google Maps link to your home, and he sent a quick thank you – sans his name this time. With a quick sigh he pocketed his phone again, it was time to get on with his day. He had some paperwork from yesterday to complete by Monday morning so he should probably make a start. He stopped to order a light lunch at midday, ate it as he scrolled through his very limited social media before getting back to it. 

He called it a day around 3pm, a call from his mom interrupting his flow. He spent an hour talking, their weekend phone calls were habitual by now and he enjoyed them immensely.  He loved his father of course, but their conversations mostly revolved around work. Despite stepping down as CEO three years ago, he was still a vital member of the company, and Seokjin continued to consult him at every opportunity and lean on him for support when things got stressful. With his mom, she was the woman he could still be a kid around. They could talk about anything and everything, but for her own benefit he left out his plans for tonight. He knew what she was like, she’d get way too excited and overwhelmed and before long she’d be sobbing down the line while simultaneously asking to meet you. She’d been wanting him to meet someone new for so long, much like Mrs. Shin. It was a surprise the two women weren’t conspiring behind his back. 

No, he’d keep it a secret for now. If things went well tonight, then possibly his mother would get to find out. He wasn’t getting his hopes up though – or at least he was trying not to. 

It was just after four when he got off the phone, too early to start getting ready just yet, so he sat in front of the television and tried to concentrate on a series he’d recently started. (It wasn’t going well. He was on about one episode a week out of a nine season TV show.) It was no use though, the nerves were rearing their ugly head again. 

He decided to choose his outfit. Seokjin wasn’t much of a thinker when it came to fashion, he just grabbed whatever he saw first that morning, but tonight he wanted to at least put some effort in. After much deliberation he decided on a navy two piece paired with a white dress shirt. It wasn’t over the top, he thought, but nice enough to make that impression that was so very important to him. He kept his hair simple. He’d managed to squeeze in a haircut yesterday so it made things easier, but upon closer inspection in the mirror he noticed those pesky grey hairs of his glittering in the sunlight. He grimaced, worried now. He didn’t know your exact age yet, but it was obvious he was a few years older than you. He was no spring chicken, especially with those wrinkles around his eyes. He had been called handsome all his life, no stranger to it, but right now he was dubious. 

He pushed his trivial concerns away and concentrated on the next decision. What car he would take. He didn’t want to go too flash – again with the showing off thing – so the Aston Martin was definitely off the cards. He hadn’t actually driven that one much, going through some sort of so-called midlife crisis when he’d bought it straight after his divorce, so he made a mental note to take it out next weekend. He decided on the Mercedes convertible (roof on, of course). It seemed like a suitable choice, not too flashy at all really. He didn’t want to run the risk of putting you off him or overwhelming you with showy displays. He was well aware of the differences between your lifestyles, not that he cared at all, but it didn’t stop him from understanding. The things that seemed slight to him could very well be enormous for you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form. 

Shit, on second thoughts maybe his restaurant was a bad idea… 

.

.

Seokjin was always punctual, he prided himself on it, but tonight it made him nervous. He’d said 7 but it had only just gone quarter to. He couldn’t very well stay in the car for fifteen minutes, you’d spot him out the window, so ever so slowly he opened his car door and stepped out, his heart thudding against his ribcage. He was sure he noticed his hand shaking as he closed it behind him. He was such a mess it was embarrassing. 

You lived in a nice little neighbourhood, it seemed quiet, and he admired your pots of flowers in the patch of garden you had as he made his way up the path that led to your front door. He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, adjusting his suit jacket as he waited for you to open up. It’s fine, Seokjin, he told himself. It’s just dinner. You’ve done much scarier things in your life. Pull yourself together, man. 

A few seconds later the door opened in front of him and you came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I’m fucked, he thought immediately. 

“Hi,“ he forced himself to say as he smiled. He was probably staring but he couldn’t help himself. You looked stunning, your dress deep red in colour and incredibly flattering. His throat felt dry and he swallowed quickly. 

“Hey,” you greeted back. 

“You look beautiful,“ he couldn’t help but awe, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line with his compliment. 

"Thank you,” you smiled almost shyly. It was adorable. “You look…really good.“ 

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, aware the sound was probably highly unfaltering, but he couldn’t help it. "I’ll take it. Thanks.” He tilted his head to the right then, composing himself. “Are you ready to go? I’m a bit early, I know. Sorry about that." 

He really couldn’t tear himself away from your beauty, but luckily you didn’t seem to notice, busy nodding as you clutched your purse to your side. "I, uh… I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing.” Your voice raised as you continued, your head turning slightly down the hallway. 

He raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he guessed said best friend was in the house somewhere? He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine.” 

As you stepped forward, a breath of a chuckle slipping from your throat, he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to let you lead the way. You accepted with a brief nod of your head, your gazes catching for a split second. God, you were gorgeous. 

His nerves might have eased a tad, but his heart was still beating just as fast – if not more.  

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[lovely-angst]

Ok so may I request a part two of "walk me to the bus stop" where bakugou and his s/o are older now, and he's in like his 3rd year at UA, and he just happens to be at the bus stop late at night and hears shouting and runs over to see his s/o struggling to get away from those same men in suits, and he rescues her again and they're just like long time no see? and bakugou proceeds to walk s/o home as the men in suits get whisked away by the police <3 so swoony uwu

changed the ending juuuust a tad bit, but i hope it’s just as good ;^)

pt 1 here!

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

01.15.21

-

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wait with you at the bus stop?” your friends ask, but you shook your head politely. “Thanks for asking, but I’ll be fine. It’s getting late and I know they’re about to do last calls for buses and trains, I wouldn’t want you to miss them,” you explain as your friends give you smalls smiles.

“If you say so. Text me when you get home then, okay?” she says as you give her a nod before turning around to make your way to the bus stop.

Walking down the empty street lit by the dim street lights, you tried not to think about all of the horrible situations that could happen, it would only keep you paranoid.

Plus, your boyfriend taught you a few moves of self defense if you’re ever in a predicament, you were prepared for anything!

Sighing, you continue to walk down before turning into another street, eyes slightly widening when you notice two men in suits standing off to the side of road.

“They’re probably just businessmen (Name), stop over thinking things,” you told yourself as you walked passed the men, keeping your head down. Once you had gotten passed them, you let out a relieved sigh, “just business men,” you whisper to yourself, relaxing a bit.

It wasn’t until you continued walking for a couple minutes that you heard footsteps behind you. You tried not to think too hard about it, maybe someone was just taking the same path as you.

Your hand gripped your bag tightly before you cautiously looked over your shoulder, only to find those two men following you.

It was happening again.

Quickly turning back, you tried to maintain a normal speed to not seem suspicious, but when you thought they weren’t suspecting anything, you ran for it.

Your heart raced as you tried to reach the bus stop. It would be the main road, there would be people there to save you, heroes there to save you!

You felt your eyes gloss over as you tried to outrun these men, but even you could tell they were catching up and catching up fast. “One more street and I’ll make it!”

Just as you were about to turn the corner to your bus stop, two more men popped out and blocked your path, sealing you from escaping.

You turned every which way to find a way to escape but they were slowly inching closer. Swinging your bag, you tried to attack but it backfired when they grabbed on, pulling you in and pining your hands together as a car pulled up on the side of the road.

Before they could stuff you in the vehicle, you let out a yell.

-

“Hurry up, Bakugou! We’re on a time crunch here!” Kirishima cries as he tries to remind his grumpy buddy that Aizawa had given them only an hour to grab whatever they needed from the convenience store before heading back to the dorms for the night.

“Thanks for tagging along, Kacchan!” Midoriya says but Bakugou could only scoff, “I can’t believe you two losers dragged me along,” he complained, following the two boys.

“You’ve been kinda tense lately, I thought maybe being outside of UA could help you a bit,” Kirishima confesses with a toothy smile, causing Bakugou to frown.

“I’ll just wait out here for you idiots. Better make it a fast trip,” Bakugou says as the three finally made it to the convinience store. “Okay!” Midoriya and Kirishima quickly head in, the sliding doors closing behind them leaving Bakugou alone.

Though Bakugou hated running errands, Kirishima was right—being outside of UA was nice. There were normal citizens walking about and for some reason the air felt and smelled different.

He wished he could enjoy a night out like this with you. Running to some convenience store to buy snacks because you were hungry before the two of you would walk through the quiet town together.

Glancing through the glass doors, Bakugou noticed that Midoriya and Kirishima were still busy deciding on what brand to get.

A small walk wouldn’t hurt.

He knew that the bus stop the two of you always waited at was nearby, maybe he could take a quick picture and send it your way. He could already imagine all of the texts you would reply with.

‘I can’t believe you’re allowed out and i’m not there!’

‘Message me as soon as you can next time! Even if it’s just for five minutes, I want to see you!’

Just the thought of it made him smile. Just as he approached the bus stop, he heard a faint yell, “help!”

Like the snap of a finger, all the gears in Bakugou’s brain began turning as he quickly set off to find the source of the distressed cry, someone needed his help.

It didn’t take long before Bakugou found four men trying to force a girl into a car as she continued to resist. 

Using his explosions, Bakugou propelled himself forward before grabbing one of the men by the collar of his shirt, slamming him onto the hard ground beneath them before raising his arm towards another, letting out an explosion in the man’s face.

With the two in the back down, the young lady was able to turn her head around towards him, their eyes meeting. “Katsuki!”

Before Bakugou could cause unleash another attack, they quickly shoved you in the car before one of the men turned and brought their hand up towards Bakugou’s face, and unleashed their quirk as a flash of bright light filled the scene.

Just as the light slowly disapeared, the car had driven off with you in it.

“Kacchan!” “Bakugou! What happened to waiting outside the store?” Kirishima scolded as the two ran over to the blond, “We saw that bright flash of light and decided to come check it out.”

Bakugou cursed, “That damn light caught me off guard. They took (Name), hurry before they get too far!” he shouted as he began propelling himself in the air to catch sight of the car.

Bakugou wasn’t sure if the two followed behind, but he could careless. His girlfriend had just gotten kidnapped in front of his face and he wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

Meanwhile, you were continuously trying to pry yourself away from the men who sat beside you. Your hands were tied together in front of you as you scanned the car with your eyes.

It didn’t seem like they had any guns on them thankfully, but you weren’t sure how you could manage to even attempt to escape. It didn’t matter though, you were going to do whatever it took.

Violently shaking yourself to try to loosen the fabric around your wrists, you would purposefully shove the two men beside you to get a rise out of them, and it worked.

“Hey, knock it off before I-” before he could finish his sentence, you roughly swung your fists into his face before swinging your head to headbutt the other man, causing them to curl in pain.

While they were distracted from the sudden attack, you reached over and unlocked the car door before swinging it open and throwing yourself out of the vehicle, rolling onto the hard ground with a few rough scrapes.

As you tried to regain your focus after the tumble, you could hear the voices of the men and their quick footsteps as they ran over to you.

You were so close.

Just as you turned your head and flinched from the men, Bakugou suddenly dropped down in front of you with his arms raised, “Watch out, (Name)”

Releasing a large blast that shook the ground, the men were finally all down and unconscious. 

“Sorry we’re late Kacchan!” Midoriya exclaimed as he jerked his head behind him at Kirishima who was riding Midoriya’s back. “Ha, can’t exactly get here as fast as the two of you, so Midoriya here offered to give me a ride.”

“Just go apprehend those guys,” Bakugou said, rolling his eyes as the two nodded, running over towards the unconscious men.

With a sigh, Bakugou finally turned around to face you who was still on the ground exhausted. Bending down to your level, he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his face before he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“I can’t ever leave you alone, can I?” he says softly and you can only rest your face against his palm. “You’re always getting into trouble.”

“You’ll always be there to save me though,” you say with a small smile. And though Bakugou knows that won’t always be the case, he can only hope that he’ll be able to be there when you are in trouble.

“Can you sit here for me for a bit? Got some hero work I need to finish,” he explains, nodding his head over towards his two classmates. “Of course,” you reply as you rest yourself against the back of a building.

Bakugou smiles, quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead before catching up with Midoriya and Kirishima.

-

The cops were called to take the men away and Aizawa was called to the scene to retrieve his three students—thankfully Aizawa was understanding about the situation and wasn’t terribly upset that they had missed been out for longer than an hour.

Bakugou knew that he had to go back to UA, but he couldn’t leave you alone right now after everything you’ve just been through.

“I understand that I’m pushing my limits here, but would it be alright for me to wait with (Name) until her parents get here?” Aizawa stared down at the blond before shifting his eyes to you, who looked a bit distraught, understandably though.

He would hate to be the cause any unnecessary danger trouble to his students, but it wouldn’t hurt this one time. Especially if it was Bakugou, one of the top students. “Come back as soon as they get here,”

“I will, thank you,” Bakugou states before jogging over to you, pulling you in for a hug.

Aizawa hated being soft with his students, but growing with them for the past few years, he just couldn’t help it.

As the scene died down and the cops were slowly dispersing from the scene, you and Bakugou sat quietly on a bench together fooling around as you waited for your parents to arrive.

“Give me your bag,” Bakugou says firmly causding you to hold your bag close and away from him, “Why do you want it so bad, huh?” you accuse as Bakugou leans forward to try to pry the bag from you.

“Just give it to me!” “No!”

Your giggles fill the air as he begins to lightly tickle your sides, successfully retrieving the bag from you as you gave him a pout from between your laughter. “What are you looking for?” you asked as he begins to rummage through your items.

“Nothing,” he curtly replies before pulling out your small first aid kit, “Come here, you scraped yourself a bit jumping out of that car didn’t you?”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at yourself, finally noticing and feeling the scrapes against your once smooth skin. “You’re so careless,” he says gently as he rips open the small packet of alcohol wipe.

His large calloused hands gently rub the wipe against your injuries as gently as he could before rubbing ointment on the clean wound.

His soft blond hair obstructing you from seeing his handsome features as he was treating you like glass. It was odd seeing such a different side of him, but you welcomed it with open arms.

“I cleaned it good, so don’t go crashing into things to cause more injuries,” Bakugou states organizing the first aid kit. You reached over and placed your hand over his before turning his hand around, letting his palm face up.

“Didn’t you hurt your hands today too?” you ask as you glanced down, your free hand gliding across his palm as light as a feather, trying not to irritate any injuries he might have.

“You were using your quirk a lot without your gauntlets,” bringing his palm up, you planted a soft kiss to it, “it must have hurt, I’m sorry.”

Quickly releasing his hand, you reach into your bag to pull out an ice pack that was mostly melted before placing it in his hand, “it’s not cold anymore, but I hope it’ll soothe your hands enough.”

The smile you gave him reminded him about how much he wanted to protect you from this world full of evil things. You are so precious to him. He was thankful the stars aligned for him to have been able to save you today.

“Oh, that’s my parent’s car!” you say standing up and grabbing your bag, Bakugou standing up beside you. “See you soon?” you asked, glancing up at him as he gave you a small smile.

“See you soon,” he repeats as your cheeky smiled widened, leaning up to press a kiss onto his lips. “Thank you for saving me today again, Katsuki,” you whisper, pulling away from him before entering the car.

Giving him a small wave goodbye, Bakugou watches as the car drives off into the distance before he turns around and makes his way back to UA.

It was quiet without you beside him, but he knew the next meeting was going to be worth the wait.

- extra -

It had been a long and tiring day of quirk training as the students all sat around trying to catch their breath or to rejuvenate their spent energy.

“What you got in your hand there, Bakugou?” Kaminari teases, catching the students’ attentions as they all glanced at his hand.

Turning his hand around to face his palm up, Bakugou opened his fingers to expose the cute ice pack you had given him that night. “It’s (Name)’s. She gave it to me too cool my hands down after I over use my quirk,” he explains with a smug smile knowing all his single friends couldn’t relate.

The class reaction was a mix of ‘ooh’s and ah’s’ and ‘cute’ and a very quiet ‘simp’, but he’d let that slide this one time.

“Augh! I can’t believe you have a girlfriend! Why haven’t I been blessed yet!” Kaminari cries, shoving his hands into his hair in despair.

Glancing down at the ice pack, Bakugou smiled. Yeah, he was definitely blessed.

[dynyamight]

meet cute number 47 is interesting!

send me a writting ask

47. Texting the incorrect number but continuing the conversation.

“You got all that, right?” Shinsou asks, readjusting his stance, so others can leave their classroom door easily.

Midoriya hums absentmindedly. He’s still quickly jotting down the last few digits onto his planner. “And, you said tomorrow morning, around 7? At the library?”

“Yeah,” Shinsou shrugs, “Or anytime really. The deadline isn’t until next month, you know.”

“I kinda just want to get it done, as soon as possible.”

Shinsou breathes out a snort. “Figured you’d say that much. Just make sure you got my number. Repeat it, if you need to.”

“No time.” Midoriya drops his bag to the side, shoving his now closed notebook inside. “Thank you! I’ll text you later tonight!” He offers hurriedly, before taking off down the campus halls.

Shinsou’s warning falls deaf to his rushed mind.

He has to run the entire way, in order to graciously catch the last bus for the hour. Sweaty and flushed, Midoriya slumps into his seat in relief. Fortunately, he was able to cop a seat for himself, settling by the window and his backpack right next to him.

Staring out, Midoriya tries to remind himself of the rest of his priorities he needed to do.

He still needed to start on Doctor Chiyo’s online Physiology exam, and gather his notes for the open book portion. It was a bit bothersome to handle tests online, but if the rest of class prefers it, there’s nothing Midoriya can do about it.

Speaking of which, Ochako had requested for copies of those exact same notes, since apparently she barely writes anything during lectures. He wants to suggest to her to just simply take better notes, but alas, he will gladly help her out.

And, finally, Midoriya has to collect reliable, approved research articles for his and Shinsou’s debate, in their argumentative project in Communications. Being assigned “PRO SOCIAL MEDIA INFLUENCE”, while being the most uninvolved people on the internet, Midoriya and Shinsou had a lot of work to do.

Not to mention it was already 18:00 by the time he reached the school’s dormitories. And yet, he needed to shower, make dinner, water his plants, and watch the newest episode of his favorite drama, airing tonight.

University was eating him alive.

Thankfully, he’s able to complete half of his list.

He finishes the exam with a 98%, and quickly snaps the pages of his notes over to Ochako and Iida, making sure to highlight the main topics questioned in the exam. Ochako sends a ‘thank you’ gif, and Iida texts a long, yet endearing message of gratitude.

Midoriya doesn’t have time to shower, instead blasting the TV volume loud, as he waters his indoor plants at the same time. He overwaters them a little bit, busy glancing back at the screen for too long. But, at least he’s able to watch the episode. He pouts when it ends on a cliffhanger, almost drowning his bonsai tree in frustration.

He’s only able to warm up a plate of leftovers, and read through only one research article, by the time it’s already blinking 21:30 on his phone. Sighing, Midoriya closes his laptop and grabs his cell phone instead.

An all nighter wasn’t preferable. But, if Shinsou is working overtime at his late night job, Midoriya supposes he can stay up and keep looking through more articles, until he has at least the required ten.

Flipping open his planner, Midoriya inputs Shinsou’s number into his phone. He adds his name, a contact photo of him sleeping, and finally taps a quick message.

(21:38) < You working?

When Shinsou doesn’t respond right away, Midoriya simply sets aside his phone on his desk. Stretching his arms, he sighs in defeat, now expecting Shinsou to be stuck at work.

He’s never worked at a restaurant, but he bets Friday nights can get pretty busy. And, Shinsou always complains that group outings and dates tend to stay over, even after the place is supposed to close. And, Midoriya trusts his word.

So, by the time his phone dings, Midoriya has been clicking through more articles on social media, bookmarking a few to go over later, as he went.

He lifts his phone, and with a bright screen, a message stares back at him.

shinsou hitoshi (21:58) > Who’s this

Oh, he did forget to specify. But, Midoriya smiles, having a small prank in mind. There was no harm in teasing his friends, let alone Shinsou, who definitely needed a good laugh, now and then.

(21:58) < It's the cutie from your communications class ;)

shinsou hitoshi (21:58) > So, no one

(21:59) < Haha! I guess you’re right about that

(21:59) < Anyways, it’s Izuku! You still working late, Hitoshi?

shinsou hitoshi (21:59) > This ain’t Hitoshi

Midoriya's face drops, blinking. Oh god, did he mistype the number?

(21:38) < Wait, you’re not???

Another text pops up, shortly after.

shinsou hitoshi (22:02) > You got the wrong number

Embarrassment burning his entire face red, Midoriya wishes he could delete himself from the world.

(22:03) < I’m so so so so sorry!

(22:03) < God, I thought I wrote down my friend’s number right

(22:03) < But, I was in this stupid rush to get on the bus that I didn’t make sure

(22:04) < And, listen, if I had missed that bus, I would’ve had to wait

(22:04) < Not like a few minutes wait

(22:04) < Like, a whole two hours wait!

shinsou hitoshi (22:05) > I didn’t ask

Deleting the conversation, Midoriya erases the new contact completely. And instead, he looks back to his planner, and retypes the numbers in his phone onto a new conversation.

Hopefully, he has typed the correct series of digits.

(22:07) < Hey, Hitoshi! It’s Izuku

unknown (22:08) > ...

unknown (22:08) > What the actual fuck

unknown (22:08) > You've still got the wrong number, you goddamn idiot

Slamming his phone onto his desk, Midoriya grabs a pillow off his bed and shoves it in his face. The temptation to scream sounds awfully pleasant, but it’s too late at night to do so. His dorm neighbors would definitely wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

What’s wrong? Oh, he has completely done one of the most dreaded imaginary scenarios in his head; text a complete stranger. Twice.

What was he supposed to do now? Never text back? Delete it? Block it?

How is he supposed to contact Shinsou now?

His phone dings again.

Lifting the pillow off his face slightly, Midoriya eyes his phone warily from his swivel chair.

That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Another text from the same stranger sounds a bit unheard of.

After a seconds-long hesitation, Midoriya lifts his phone and opens it once more.

unknown (22:13) > Double check next time

unknown (22:13) > You can fucking wait the two hours, dumbass

Midoriya grows a little irked. He has a bad feeling that his stranger isn’t too friendly, to say that least.

There was literally no reason to text back something so rude.

(22:14) < Well, that wasn’t nice

unknown (22:15) > Wasn’t trying to be

(22:15) < ..Are you always like this?

unknown (22:16) > Pretty much

(22:16) < That’s sad

unknown (22:17) > What’s fucking sad is that I was woken up from my sleep

unknown (22:17) > Because a damn moron didn’t write down the right number

Midoriya winces. He hadn’t even thought about the other person’s predicament, let alone if he had interrupted anything.

(22:20) > I really didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry :(

unknown (22:22) > Yeah whatever

(22:24) > You should try to go back to sleep, then

unknown (22:25) > I was

unknown (22:25) > But the same moron from before keeps texting me

(22:27) > Who?

(22:33) > Oh.

(22:33) > It’s me, huh?

unknown (22:34) > No shit

(22:35) > Right, of course. My bad!

(22:35) > I’m going to just stop now

unknown (22:36) > Thanks

(22:36) > For the umpteenth time, sorry! ><

(22:37) > Okay, Okay! I’m stopping now, for real

Midoriya desperately needs to call it a night.

After going through his nightly routine, he slips under his bedsheets, exhausted. He sets an alarm for 5:00 on his phone, hoping Shinsou will show up at the library, regardless of the missing confirmation text on Midoriya’s end.

He keeps his phone on awhile longer, swiping through his professors’ emails, before a surprising text notification pops in front of him.

unknown (23:01) > FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

(23:02) > …

(23:02) > What was that for??

unknown (23:04) > I CAN’T SLEEP

unknown (23:04) > GOD, I CAN’T GO BACK TO FUCKING SLEEP

unknown (23:05) > AND IT’S YOUR FAULT

(23:06) > What do you expect me to do????

unknown (23:07) > HAHAHAHA OH DON’T WORRY

unknown (23:07) > IF I CAN’T SLEEP, NEITHER CAN YOU

unknown (23:08) > AND IF YOU TURN YOUR PHONE OFF I WILL SEND HELLFIRE

(23:09) > Wait

(23:09) > No, please

(23:09) > My alarm is on my phone, I need it on

(23:10) > I need to go to an important meeting for a group project at 7:00!

unknown (23:10) > Aw, really? :0?!

(23:11) > Yeah! I really do!

unknown (23:11) > Sike. I don’t fucking care

unknown (23:12) > Hope you eat shit tomorrow

(23:13) > ..Why are you like this?

(23:13) > I could literally be a twelve year old, for all you know

unknown (23:14) > I doubt fucking twelve years do group projects

unknown (23:15) > But whether you’re a damn infant, or grown adult, I hate you

(23:16) > I wouldn’t say I hate you. That’s too harsh

(23:16) > But, wow, you are very unlikable :/

unknown (23:17) > That’s the fucking nicest thing anyone has said about me

(23:18) > It wasn’t supposed

(23:19) > Nevermind.

(23:19) > Do you have any friends? Just might as well ask

unknown (23:21) > Surprisingly yeah

(23:22) > Oh, so you also agree. That it’s a surprise

(23:22) > At least you’re self aware :0

unknown (23:23) > Yeah, they are annoying as hell

unknown (23:24) > But, also pretty good people, I guess

(23:25) > Pretty good or pretty dumb?

unknown (23:26) > SHUT IT

unknown (23:27) > Only I can make fun of them

unknown (23:27) > You. Don’t.

(23:28) > You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that

(23:29) > I’m sorry :(

unknown (23:30) > You like apologizing, huh

(23:29) > There’s a lot to apologize for tonight

unknown (23:30) > Still, you don’t have to say it every damn minute

(23:32) > You probably don’t ever apologize

unknown (23:33) > Fuck no

(23:35) > Right, of course

(23:36) > Well, you know what I need to do tomorrow

unknown (23:37) > Unfortunately

(23:38) > What about you?

unknown (23:39) > I’m covering a shift at my shit job at the ass crack of dawn

(23:40) > Unnecessary visual, but I digress

(23:40) > Uh, where do you work?

unknown (23:42) > No. I don’t even know your damn name

(23:43) > I told you?? It was in my first text

unknown (23:44) > Yeah, I ain’t scrolling

(23:48) > Well, it’s Izuku. Midoriya Izuku :)

unknown (23:49) > Great. I still ain’t giving you mine

(23:50) > ?? Is there anything I can know about you??

(23:50) > You know more about me, than I do about you

unknown (23:51) > You know I hate you

unknown (23:51) > That’s plenty

(23:52) > But, I have been staying up for you :(

unknown (23:53) > Because it’s your fault I can’t sleep

(23:54) > You aren’t feeling sleepy yet?

unknown (23:56) > ..Are you

(23:57) > I asked you first

unknown (23:58) > I asked you second

(23:59) > That

(23:59) > Look, it’s almost midnight

(24:00) > Oh, now, it’s actually midnight

unknown (00:01) > I have fucking eyes. I can see the time

(00:02) > And we BOTH have places to be tomorrow

(00:02) > So, let’s just sleep. Call a truce, please

unknown (00:03) > What about my petty retribution

(00:04) > PLEASE LET ME SLEEP

unknown (00:10) > FUCK

unknown (00:10) > FINE

unknown (00:11) > I STILL CAN’T SLEEP BUT WHATEVER

unknown (00:12) > HOPE YOU FUCKING OVERSLEEP TOMORROW

The rest of the night, Midoriya hears his phone go off, but he doesn’t bother to open the messages. Fortunately for him, the time staying awake quickly catches up to his body, the moment he shuts his eyes. And, in an instant, he falls asleep, heavy.

However, he’s jolted awake by the ringing of his phone, the tone alerting him of an incoming phone call. Banging his head on the headboard, Midoriya blindly grabs and answers his phone. “Uh, H-Hello?” He blurts quickly.

“Tch.” A low voice emits, “You owe me, Deku.”

Click. The phone call ends.

Confused, Midoriya hurriedly rubs his eyes open. Running his messy curls through his fingers, he lifts his bangs up, in order to correctly look at the time.

The time was 5:10. And, his 5:00 alarm had been off the entire time.

And, instead, that same unknown number from last night was his saving grace.

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 6

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hi!! Oh man am I excited about this chapter. It’s sweet and flirty, but also pretty angsty, so you’re welcome and I’m sorry? I’ve hit a good spot with writing this story, so I will probably be posting more often. I still can’t promise weekly updates, but I will do my best. Thank you so much for the kind words on this story. It truly means a lot. I hope you enjoy! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Hailey?”

“Hello?”

It wasn’t until a coffee cup was being raised in front of her face that she pulled out of her absent stare. 

“Sorry,” she shook her head, blinking her eyes back into focus. “Thank you,” she said, forcing a smile as she reached out to grab the cup.

Everything had been a blur since that last dance with Jay the night before. When the song ended and she finally worked up the nerve to pull away from him, she desperately tried to swallow down her emotions with the rest of the bottle of wine. Not long after, when she couldn’t get her mind to shut off, she told him she was beat and asked him to drive her home. 

She then spent the rest of the night stuck in that moment in his arms, debating whether or not she was falling in love with him, or the moment. Then, every time she closed her eyes she saw his beautiful emerald eyes and his infectious smile and she knew the question was rhetorical.

She woke the next morning with a text from him asking to meet at what had become their coffee shop. She had the weekend off. She knew he knew that, so she had no real excuse to blow him off. So, she compartmentalized everything that happened the night before and agreed to meet him there.

“You okay? You seem off this morning,” he posited, taking a sip as he eyed her from the opposite end of the table.

There he was reading her like a book, the way only he seemed to be able to do.

“Yeah, no matter how much red wine I have, I always feel it the next morning,” she lied, taking a large swig of her coffee as he nodded, eyeing her carefully as she did so. 

“Sorry,” he offered, the slight pout on his face expressing his empathy.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly.

“So, I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to run something by you.” 

“Okay…” she said, a resistance in her voice.

“How would you feel about sneaking into a college party with me tonight?”

“Why on Earth would we do that?” she breathed out a laugh with the question.

“I’ve never been. It’s on my list.”

“You’ve never been to a college party before?”

“Nope. I enlisted right out of high school, then my active duty filled the education requirement for the academy. Never even stepped foot on a college campus until I was a cop and needed to for a case,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re not missing much. I only went to maybe one party in my undergrad years, wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Yeah well, my brother spent all of his college years partying. Figured I ought to see what the hype was all about. I was waiting for fall to come around so I could blend in with of all the incoming students, but I only want to go if you agree to come with me.” 

“Fine, but only because it’s on your list… You’re going to have to do something about this look though,” she said, waving a hand in front of her as she gestured to his outfit.

“My look? What about you? You’re the one who dresses like a cop.”

She scoffed, taking one of the sugar packets on the table and flinging it in his direction. He flinched, a sneaky grin on his face as he laughed at his own joke.

“I can still wear my hat, right?” he asked once the laughter died down, a serious look overcoming his face.

“Yeah. I actually think I still have a U of C one you can borrow.”

“Cool.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a hat.”

“You don’t want to. The chemo has thinned my hair out so much. I just haven’t had the courage to shave it all off yet.”

A sad look overcame her face, and she quickly adjusted it when she noticed his eyes dart away timidly.

“Actually, I have been wondering since we met, are you a brunette or a red head?” she questioned, trying to divert the mood.

“Oh, that’s a surprise.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his now intentional pattern of aloofness. 

“One day, I’m going to be the one to surprise you.”

He gave her a disbelieving nod as he brought his cup to his mouth, concealing the smile she knew was breaking out across his lips.

— — — — 

Later that evening when she had just finished clasping the back of her last earring, there was a knock at the door. She made her way downstairs, hurrying to answer it. 

Jay stood on her doorstep in a maroon button up, dark jeans, and his usual ball cap. In the time she’d known him, it was always t-shirts and henleys, so to see him more dressed up had her heart racing in an entirely new way. 

As distracted as she was by his appearance, it didn’t stop her from noticing the way his eyes trailed up and down her body. She wore black jeans, black leather boots, and a silky blue tank that cut a little low. It certainly wasn’t her typical attire, but she knew it was basic enough of a look to blend in with every other college girl at whatever party they wound up at.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his mouth falling slightly agape as he seemed to force his eyes to train on hers. 

“Wow yourself,” she told him, stepping aside so that he could come in. 

Once the door was closed, they stood before one another in her foyer, both still silently gawking at one another for a minute longer.

“So, what do you think? Do I look like I should be at a college party?” he asked after clearing his throat, holding his arms out as he sought her approval. 

She pursed her lips to the side as she eyed him up and down, taking a little more time to do so since he had granted her his permission. 

“I don’t know I feel like it just needs-“

Her eyes fell to the top of his shirt where the top button was secured. She stepped forward, her hands moving to unbutton it and expose a little more of his chest. Her breath became shallow with the proximity. She pulled the collar out a little more once the button was popped. Doing so exposed a gold chain she’d never noticed before, one with a small medallion attached that rested in the contour of his chest. She noticed the way his jaw tightened as her fingers brushed his skin when she picked it up to inspect it further. She rubbed a thumb over it in her hand, an inquisitive look on her face as she did so.

“Do you always wear this? I’ve never noticed it before.” 

“It’s my brother’s. He gave it to me a few weeks ago. It’s St. Luke, the patron saint of doctors and surgeons. My mom gave it to him when he first told her he wanted to be a doctor. He thinks it’ll somehow help me, I’m not so convinced, but it reminds me of her so I wear it,” he explained, only his mouth moving as she still inspected the small medallion in her hand. She smiled, releasing it as she took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. 

“You know, the more I learn about your brother, the more I think I might like him more than you,” she told him smugly.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he spat, squinting his eyes at her jokingly.

“Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah, let me go get your hat.”

She momentarily disappeared upstairs, pulling the hat from her closet before descending the stairs once more.

“Here,” she told him. He grabbed it, holding it in his hand as he peered over at her with a look of patience. 

“Right, um let me get my things and we can head out,” she said, turning around to grant him the moment he was silently asking for. When she came back, his hat was swapped out and he wore a shy look on his face.

“Thanks,” he told her, and she knew it wasn’t just gratitude for the hat.

— — — —

Even a block down the street from the house they could hear the music and voices of a hundred or so college kids. It was enough to send shudders down Hailey’s spine, a reminder of why her first college party was also her last. 

“You sure you wanna do this? Can’t we just go get plastered at a bar and call it a night,” she offered, looking up at him in the dim light of the street. 

The look he sent her was one of both amusement and certainty, and she knew his decision on the night’s plans was unwavering. 

“Fine, but you’re my designated driver. The only way I’m getting through this is with booze running through my veins,” she sang.

“I didn’t plan on drinking anyway.”

The comment was enough to stop her in her tracks. She sent him a look, silently questioning the statement as a smirk grew on his face. 

“I mean I’m going to have a beer or something, but I’m not supposed to get hammered or anything. I’ve already got enough chemicals in my body trying to kill me.”

She nodded, and they continued their slow pace towards the house. Another reminder of what seemed like many lately that he was living on numbered days. She just wasn’t sure what that number was. Her face fell, and she focused her attention on each step she was taking, trying to pull herself out of the instant sullen mood she’d fallen into.

“Alcoholic,” he mumbled under his breath, causing her to kick at him playfully with the tease. It was just what she needed to smile again, but not quite enough to keep that reminder from plaguing her thoughts.

Once inside, they were met with the overwhelming smell of beer, musk, and weed. 

“How many of these kids do you think are underage?” he whisper yelled into her ear as they brushed through the crowd blocking the entrance. 

“All of them,” she returned, shaking her head at the thought of a time when she was one of the many carefree kids they were surrounded by. 

They found the drink table. Jay went for a can of cheap beer and Hailey poured herself a couple of shots of tequila. The smitten look and prideful smile he gave as he watched her down the first two were enough to make her do a third. It was going to be a long night with him looking the way he did, let alone with him looking at her like that. She knew she needed to be loosened up to get through it.

By her fourth shot she was in the middle of a crowd of people, her hips doing most of the work as she danced to whatever song was playing through the speakers. Jay opted out, claiming he was much more a slow dancer than a party dancer. 

She’d been alone for a while, a couple of young guys dancing alongside her before getting the cold shoulder and moving on. Even when the guys approached, it didn’t stop Jay’s eyes from keeping a determined stare. She pretended she didn’t notice, but he kept a watchful eye as she swayed to the rhythm of the absurdly loud music.

About an hour had passed. Hailey watched as Jay broke his stare, moving to play a few rounds of beer pong. She laughed when she watched him swap his beer for soda water when the other guys weren’t looking. Not that it mattered considering how good he was at the game. Hailey had kept her eye on him every so often as she danced with various groups of soured sorority girls. 

Eventually, the strands of hair by her face were stuck on with sweat, and she had lost sight of Jay for about 15 minutes. When she finally found him again, he was leaned against a wall, some young college girl standing only inches away from him, hung on his every word. 

She blamed it on the booze, but it sent a heat rising in her. She couldn’t blame the girl, he looked damn good, but she couldn’t help but envy how oblivious the girl was to what it meant to be close to him.  

She watched from the other side of the party, the low light seeming to only shine on the two of them in that large room of people. Her jaw was clenched and she thought about going over and pulling him away, being close to him in a way that had been stuck in her mind since the night before.  

She then watched as he said something that sent the girl running, and a smile came across her face. She made her way over to him, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. 

“You must really know how to sweet talk a girl,” she teased, practically having to scream over the noise. 

“You would know,” he said it in a way that caused her cheeks to become even warmer than they already were. 

“What’d you tell her?”

“She asked if I would go to her um… what’d she call it? Formal or something? She said it was some sorority thing. I told her I couldn’t because I have chemo that day. She thought I was kidding and then, well you saw the rest,” he chuckled, both of them looking over Hailey’s shoulder as the girl found some other guy to mingle with. 

“You look like you’ve had fun,” he told her, instinctively bringing a hand to brush the slightly damp waves out of her face. “Why don’t we go outside for some cool air?” he offered. She nodded, grabbing a bottle of water on her way out.

The backyard was unexpectedly empty. It was a charming little courtyard with a few tiki torches keeping it dimly lit, and a big porch swing hanging from the large tree in the corner. Hailey made her way over, plopping down on the swing less than gracefully as she opened the water, her weak attempt at sobering up a bit.

“What do you think of your first college party?” she asked him as she tried to settle herself onto the swing.

“Overrated,” he said simply.

“Told you,” she returned, swallowing down a large gulp of the water.

“I kinda like seeing you like this,” he told her, laughing at the way her short legs swung back and forth to move the swing. 

“I kinda like seeing you in general,” the words came out before she could fully process, and she squinted her eyes closed tightly, cringing at how forward her boozed up brain was making her.

He leaned against a tree across from her, crossing his arms as he snickered at her words. She laughed too, shaking her head as she took another pull from the water. He brought one of his hands up to readjust his hat as he watched her. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. The pop of his collar, the way his eyes were still so vibrant in the low light. He was a sight to be seen, but it seemed like every time she looked at him like that lately, it only reminded her just how short her time with him could be. 

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, or maybe it was that thing that the shooting awoke in her, but she felt like she needed to tell him how she felt. No matter how much time they had left. Then her brain dwelled on that. Time. What did his prognosis look like? She’d never asked him. Never had the courage to ask him. But in that moment? Hammered Hailey was just about ready to ask, do, and say anything.  

“How much time do we have left?” she broke after a few moments of being lost in her jumbled, tequila ridden thoughts. 

“If you’re ready we can go if you want. We don’t have to sta-“

“No. I mean how much time do we have left,” she repeated, her eyes glossing over in a way that made the sight before her look like the view through a rain coated window. 

His face was twisted in confusion, then it softened as he realized what she meant, and dropped immediately into a pain inducing look of sorrow. He walked over, grabbing the swing to stop it from moving before falling down next to her. He let out a sigh, bringing an arm to rest on the bench behind her back as she felt him looking over at her. She sniffled, fidgeting with the bottle in her hands before she brought her eyes to meet his. 

“Why now? Why wait until now to want to know that?” he asked, the words coming out benignly. 

“Because I want to tell you something, and if I’m going to tell you, I need to know first.” 

“If I tell you, will the answer change your mind about whatever it is?”

“Maybe,” he kept his eyes on her, somehow knowing she wasn’t being truthful, somehow pulling the truth out of her with one look. “No,” she looked down into her lap, took a breath, and reset their gaze. “I just need to know.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes moving to stare straight ahead as she kept hers on him. 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, taking a beat before continuing. “If this chemo does what it’s supposed to do, if it shrinks the tumor enough, I have surgery, go a few more rounds of chemo, and I could be in the clear. If it doesn’t? Things only get worse, and… I don’t know exactly how long, but the doctors give me a 30% chance of 5 more years.”

Silence fell upon them. Her gaze pulled away from him. They both looked straight ahead, not even daring to look at one another as Hailey let the news simmer. There was a pain in the back of her throat as she tried to hold back the sadness that plagued her body. It was a heaviness that started in her chest, extended up into her head, and burned the back of her eyes with a pain she hadn’t experienced before. She pinched at her temples with one hand as she kept the tears from streaming down her face. The only sound that surrounded them was the loud bass and indistinct voices coming from inside the house.

“Change your mind?” he finally asked. She could tell he’d turned his head back to face her, but she couldn’t find it in her to look back. 

She shook her head, her stare still avoiding him as she closed her eyes. The tears that had built up spilled out and rolled down her cheeks. She groaned, those tears falling down hopelessly despite her best intentions. 

“Are you going to tell me?” he asked, his voice was hopeful and quiet, and it only broke her heart even more.

She shook her head again, sniffling as she wiped the tears away.

“It’s a surprise,” she eventually told him, her voice raspy. She finally turned to face him, forcing a smile through her hurt as she jumped from the swing.

“Hailey-“ 

“I think I am ready to go home,” she told him, resting a hand on his knee briefly before making her way around the house and out to the street, not even glancing back to see if he was following her.

The ride home was quiet. His eyes kept tied to the road, and hers roamed out the passenger window. The same magnetic like force that seemed to always pull them together was somehow pushing them away in that moment. She finished the rest of her water. It wasn’t enough to sober her up completely, but she wasn’t quite as foggy as she’d been back at the party. 

When he pulled up outside of her place, he told her a short and quiet goodnight as she hopped out. She returned his farewell, flashing him a fake smile as she closed the door and headed up towards her place. 

She walked up to her stoop, trying to focus on her steps to keep from stumbling over. She was still somewhat drunk, but she was also just overwhelmed by the emotions weighing her down. Her brain kept replaying what he said. A 30% chance of 5 more years with him, or an unknown chance of a lifetime. The idea of each scared her for different reasons, but there was only one that seemed impossible to accept.

There was the sound of a door shutting behind her, and she spun around. Her face fell into a frown as she saw him jogging towards her. He got dizzy just from standing, the last thing he needed to be doing was running after her.

“Jay, woah,” she called out, reaching her arms out towards him when he was close enough to touch. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured through winded breaths. 

“Did you forget something or-“

“Look, I don’t know what you were going to tell me earlier, but I have something I need to tell you,” he interrupted, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to restabilize his breath. 

She looked up at him, a blend of confusion and expectation on her face. His head was tilted toward the ground, and she could just make out his eyes from underneath the brim of his hat. They were glossed over and they avoided hers as he seemed to prepare whatever it was he had to say. 

“I don’t know how much time I have left. That’s my truth, and it’s scary and frustrating, and probably a little unfair, but every time I think about it, all I can think about is how I want to spend every minute of whatever it is with you. It sounds crazy because we haven’t even known each other that long, but… there’s something here. It’s something I’ve known for a few weeks now, but if I’m being honest it’s something I knew somewhere in my mind from the moment I stepped on that damn elevator,” he said it with a sense of urgency and passion that broke her heart in an entirely new way that night. 

That pain of holding back her tears returned as the words cut straight to her heart. Then he reached out and wrapped his hand around her forearm, allowing it to slowly slide down until it was grasping her hand in his. She shuddered at the touch. At the electricity that seemed to jolt through her body with his fingers against her skin. There was a reluctant and almost fearful look on his face as he did so, and she just squeezed his hand back, allowing him to know it was okay. He then grabbed their joined hands with his other, stepping forward as he brought them to rest on his chest.

“Hailey, I need to tell you this, and I hope it doesn’t scare you off I just...” he cut himself off, his eyes falling to the ground once more. He inhaled sharply, bringing his eyes back up to hers and peering into them with the same desperation and fire she carried in hers.

His mouth parted and the words left his mouth as if time had slowed down. It was one sentence, six simple words, but she could have sworn the world stopped spinning when he said them. 

“I’m falling in love with you.”