#I don’t drink caffeine and I drank this way too fast

[guccigarantine]

i keep forgetting i drank a coffee really quickly and every few minutes im asking myself why i feel like im being hunted for sport

[specialagentlokitty]

Saul silva x teen!reader - too much caffeine

Can I request prompts 50,62 and 64 with Saul silva x teen!reader please - Anon💜

50: “Did you just punch me in the face?” “I would say sorry but that’s a lie.”

62: “Warn a person before walking up to them!”

64: “I’m pumped up on caffeine and I feel like my heart is going to explode.” “Yes, no more caffeine for you.”

You weren’t sure how long you had been outside for, maybe it wasn’t the best outside to be hanging around with the burned ones somewhere there, but you couldn’t sleep.

You trying to burn some energy so you could sleep, but with the amount of coffee and energy drinks you had drank it was impossible.

So, you had settled for looking up at the night sky, bouncing from one foot to another.

You may have been lost in your own world, fuelled with more caffeine than anything but you were still fully aware of everything that was going on.

So when you heard a twig snap behind you you spun on your heel, fist raised and it collided into the face of whatever was behind you.

It let out a pained yelled, and tried to swing for you and you ducked, laughing like a madman.

“Jesus fucking Christ (Y/N)!” Silva hissed.

“Warn a person before walking up to them!”

He grabbed your arm, shoving you back towards the dorms.

“Get back inside!” He hissed.

Silva groaned a little, pulling his hand away from his nose, shining his flashlight against his skin to see a little bit of blood then he raised his hand to cover his nose again.

“Did you just punch me in the face?” He asked.

He held the door to the dorms open so you could walk through and you turned around, grinning from ear to ear at him.

Walking over to one of the sofa’s you sat down, leg still bouncing, and you got up, going over to the counter.

You began to make another coffee and remembered you hadn’t yet replied to him.

“I would say sorry but that’s a lie.”

Silva rolled his eyes, gesturing for you to sit down, then he walked away.

When he came back a few minutes later you were sipping your coffee and he was holding some tissue to his nose.

“What the hell are you thinking standing out there alone?” He asked, “why’re you even up?”

“I couldn’t sleep, I was studying, and then I needed coffee to stay awake and now I can hear everything…”

Silva blinked a few times and he walked over, crouching in front of you.

You turned to look at him still grinning.

“How much coffee have you had?”

Sure, it wasn’t unusual for the students to drink coffee, but Silva knew you, you were one of his best students, this wasn’t your normal behaviour.

“I’m pumped up on caffeine and I feel like my heart is going to explode.”

He nodded, standing up and he took your cup from you.

“Yes, no more caffeine for you.”

“No!” You whined.

He poured the coffee out, as unplugged the kettle, taking it away somewhere then came back for the coffee machine.

“I have a kettle in my dorm, I’ll make more.” You stated proudly.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Walking back over, Silva placed a hand on your forehead and pushed your back as hard as could.

You made a noise of disapproval being made to sit back down as you tried to stand up.

“Give me your wrist.”

You complied, pulling your phone out of your pocket while he checked your heart rate.

It was fast, but he wasn’t sure if it was dangerously fast, he couldn’t tell from how much you were moving.

There was no way that he was going to be able to get you to sit still.

“Let’s go, back to your dorm you need sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you want, you need it. Then we’re going to see Ben in the morning, make sure you haven’t destroyed something drinking all that coffee.”

Silva had to practically drag you to the dorm, since you were attempting to wonder off at any given moment.

Once he was there, he made sure to take all the coffee that was in the small kitchen, and he left a note for your dormmates saying he had it.

“Sleep.”

He pushed you inside and closed the door, standing against the wall.

You waited for a short while, and then you slowly opened the door.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Crap…”

You closed the door and went back inside, heading to your room inside to find something to do, flicking between reading, wondering around and trying different snacks you had you finally fell asleep.

Sleeping well through into the following day, a much needed sleep even if it did meaning skipping all your classes that day

[skyloftian-nutcase]

So, is there a way to consume energy drinks without ending up in SVT like Legend? Was that just too freaking many in one day? My mother says that they mess up your heart which I get with too many too often but I try to limit myself to maybe one or two a month on really bad days.

I know my mom has kept up her RN license but I sometimes wonder when she also says “don’t get the new COVID vaccine. I’ve heard there’s issues”

Yes, there’s a “healthy” way to drink energy drinks. They’re not really healthy but like… you won’t kill your heart if you drink them sparingly. Sometimes you do need that kick to get you through when you’re really struggling for whatever reason. Or if you’re like me and you hate coffee and hot tea, and you don’t want the 8000g of sugar that comes with iced and flavored coffee.

One or two a month is totally fine! The main things to consider with energy drinks are:

How fast are you drinking them (slow and steady, I literally take a couple sips and stop until I need it again. Also I usually only drink 1/3 or 1/2 a can per work shift and then none when I’m not working, so it essentially acts as a cup or coffee for me)

How many are you drinking in a day (it’s recommended you don’t exceed 400mg of caffeine in a day, and energy drinks typically have 200 per serving - that was Legend’s mistake, he drank too many in too short a time)

What other stimulants you’ve consumed (sugar rush from a bunch of donuts or a sweet drink + energy drink = human pinball)

Your own physical health (are you prone to heart problems? If so I advise generally avoiding stuff that kicks your heart into gear)

[motownfiction]

warm beverage

Lucy doesn’t take to the warm beverage until her twenties.

Everyone else thinks she’s out of her mind. When they were children, Will could never believe that she didn’t partake of Mrs. St. John’s famous hot chocolate at the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony at school. When she got a little older and became the kind of college student who works too hard for fun, her friend Mariam was shocked when she said she never drank coffee. I get all my caffeine from cold Coca-Cola, Lucy says, like it’s impressive. Mariam says it makes her sound like a pulp heroine. She takes it like a compliment.

But then one afternoon in early December, at the kitchen table, her mother makes a cup of tea. Lucy, who’s finishing up applications for her master’s degree, can’t get over the smell. She used to think tea smelled like nothing. But this … this is delicious. She makes a face like she’s resisting temptation (because she is). Nothing gets past her mother.

“Have a sip,” Mary says. “It’s blueberry.”

“But it’s hot,” Lucy says, not even denying how tempting it smells, how good. “You know I always burn my tongue.”

Mary sits down and shrugs, moving the cup toward Lucy.

“So, don’t drink so fast,” she says. “My little desperate girl. Sometimes, you know, it’s OK to slow down.”

Lucy takes a long, hot sip of the tea in front of her. It burns as it goes down, tongue and throat all at once, but she tells herself she doesn’t feel the pain.

“I don’t know about that, Mom,” she says. “If it were OK for me to slow down, you wouldn’t be a grandmother.”

Lucy allows the hot tea to sit on her tongue for a little while. Gives her time to really taste it. In between the steaming, she tastes the blueberry.

And it’s wonderful.

She doesn’t know why she was so stubborn in the first place. Sometimes, she thinks, she’s so caught up in the image of Lucy Callaghan, who hydrates on the rocks, that she forgets about how to change her mind. Sometimes, she thinks, it’s so much better to change her mind.

It doesn’t take her long to become a student of tea. Like Sam, she’ll always be a student of Slurpees at heart, but she decides to minor in tea. My little desperate girl, Mary says as Lucy buys up all the teas at the supermarket she can find. Doesn’t take long to make a new obsession. And oh, how Lucy loves her own obsessions.

She decides to create different moods for every tea. Black cherry tea is a treat after school on a Tuesday when your classes have gone well. It’s sugar cookies on a saucer and “One Fine Day” stuck in your head. Peppermint tea is for the first snow of the season, when everything is still beautiful, and nothing is a drag. It’s fancy chocolates in the dish beside you and Annie Lennox singing “Winter Wonderland.” Vanilla tea is for when you need to feel all better, but you’re too tough to admit you’re sick. It’s the Mrs. Grass soup your husband prepares on the stove and the way your four-year-old daughter sings her favorite song: This one goes out toooooo the one I loooooove! Maybe that last one is just for Lucy.

But what about blueberry tea? her mother asks one afternoon when she shares the system.

Lucy just smiles.

Blueberry tea, she says, is for loving yourself.

She doesn’t have to explain it. Somehow, they both know she’s right.

(part of @nosebleedclub december challenge -- day iii!)

[survey--s]

550.

What is in the back seat of your car right now? Just the hammock that’s on there for the dogs.

What was the last thing you threw up? Probably just water. It was when I had that awful bug back in February and was basically in bed for three days. It was horrendous and I felt so unwell.

Menthol or regular cigarettes? Neither.

What is your favorite episode of Friends? The One Where Ross Got High.

Does anyone have any blackmail on you? Nah, I don’t think so, my life really isn’t that interesting lol.

If you could marry any celebrity today who would it be? Nah, I’m good.

Have you been to a strip club? No.

Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? My toenails are painted pink.

Are you wearing socks right now? No, it’s really warm and humid still.

What was the last thing you had to drink? Iced Coffee.

What are you wearing right now? A black sleeveless jumpsuit.

Last food you ate? Chicken Ramen.

Have you bought any clothing items in the last week? No.

When is the last time you ran? Yeah, I don’t run lol.

What’s the last sporting event you watched? I have no idea, probably football.

Last person’s house you were in? Aside from my own, Sarah and Ella’s.

Last movie you saw? Alice in Wonderland - the original Disney cartoon version.

Who is the last person you sent a message to on Facebook? Susie - we’re planning on going out for breakfast tomorrow and we’re just organising the timings.

Ever go to camp? Yeah, day camp as a kid - I absolutely hated it.

Were you an honor roll student in school? We don’t have those here.

Do you like sushi? It’s okay but it’s not something I’d go out of my way to choose.

Do you have a tan? Yeah, from working outdoors in the heatwave for three weeks.

How old do you want to be when you have kids? I don’t want children.

Have you ever drank your soda from a straw? Sure, all the time in restaurants etc.

What is your age? 34.

Are you someone’s best friend? Personally I find it really strange when adults have best friends.

What are your siblings’ middle names? I don’t have any siblings.

Where is your dad right now? I assume he’s at home - probably eating or showering after his daily run.

What was the last thing you said? “I won’t be out all day”.

What color is your watch? I don’t own a watch.

What do you think of when you think of Australia? My family.

Ever ridden on a roller coaster? Yes.

Favorite gemstone? Rubies, emeralds, amethysts, sapphires.

Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? It depends on how long the lines are and how much parking there is.

Do you have a roommate? I live with my husband, two cats and a dog.

Do you have any bad habits? Yeah, drinking too much caffeine, spending too much time online and being addicted to my phone/the internet in general.

What is your favorite number? Thirteen.

Do you know anyone named Lori? Nope. That’s not really a very common name over here.

What color is your mom’s hair? Grey nowadays, but it was brown.

Do you have a dog? Yeah, a beagle. He’s upstairs snoring his head off after an 8-mile hike yesterday.

What happened to you in 1993? I turned five and started school.

Does your first memory involve your dad? It does, actually.

Do you remember singing any songs as kids? All the time. I used to put on plays and concerts for my parents ALL the time hah.

When was the last time you went swimming? Last summer at the beach.

Has your luggage ever gotten lost? Yeah, twice. Once it was only delayed by a few hours and I got it the same day, just later on, and the second time it arrived maybe 3-4 days later. 

Biggest annoyance in your life right this minute? The humidity is really annoying.

Have you ever thought it would be cool to smash a guitar? Nope.

Do you like watching a bonfire? I love bonfires.

Are you allergic to anything? Nickel and aspirin.

What is one thing you miss about your past? Not having to worry about bills or money or responsibilities.

Do you ever get flu shots? No.

Favorite shoes that you wear all the time? I practically live in Skechers for work as they’re so comfortable.

What is one thing you’ve learned about life recently? People are generally pretty decent, all things considered.

Are you jealous of anyone? Not really.

Is anyone jealous of you? A lot of people have said they’re jealous of what I do for a living. They probably wouldn’t feel like that if they joined me on a day where it was howling wind and pissing it down with rain lol.

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Four

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Almost Smut

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: hello I hope you all enjoy this!! I’m loving this series and I hope to keep updating it and Of Kings and Beasts regularly. Idk though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

~*~

“You’re sure I look good?”

Nat groans and climbs off your couch reluctantly, grabbing you by the shoulders and stopping you from pacing anymore.

“You look gorgeous.” You bite your bottom lip nervously, hands itching to come up to your mouth.

Your hair is pushed behind your ears, natural and beautiful, and your makeup is light. Adorning your body is a simple light blue dress that stops just above your knees, as well as a beige cardigan that hangs loosely off of your shoulders.

Nat grabs you a pair of beige heels and shoves them into your hands.

“Put your shoes on and stop worrying. He’s on his way up so even if you didn’t look good there’s no time to change now.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths before crouching down and putting your shoes on. Right as you’re doing up the clasp around your ankle there's a knock on your door.

You freeze in place, looking at Natasha in absolute terror, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s open!” She calls. You shake your head, one shoe on and the other off as you run to your bedroom.

“I can’t,” you whisper as the door starts to open. Hiding away in your bedroom, you listen to Nat greet Bucky.

“She’s almost ready. Just needs to grow a pair,” The redhead says loudly, her footsteps clomping towards the bedroom door.

She whips it open, ready to give you an earful, but when she sees the genuine fear on your face she reconsiders.

“Beans, you’re gonna be okay. He’s a real gentleman and he won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, I promise.” You take a few deep breaths, trying to hold back tears.

“What if I get hurt again, Nat? I don’t think I could handle it.” The weak whimper that leaves you has her heart shattering in her chest.

“He won’t hurt you. If he does I’ll kill him, I swear I will.” You sniffle and chuckle softly, sliding your foot into your other shoe and doing the clasp up.

“Okay. I think I’m ready.” She nods, taking your hand and giving it a firm squeeze before stepping aside and motioning to the door.

You take a deep breath, lift your chin, then leave your bedroom.

Bucky stands in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a black button-up, as well as a leather jacket.

“Wow,” he whispers, eyes wide as he takes you in.

“You look... wow.”

You smile shyly at him. “You clean up pretty nice yourself, James.” He chuckles, then, as if remembering he’s holding flowers, offers the bouquet to you.

“I uh... I didn’t know what kind of flowers you’d like... and Steve said to get red roses but Nat said that red roses are for love and I think it’s too early for that because this is our first date and all and I really didn’t wanna scare you away and now I’m definitely talking too much but I’ve been looking forward tot his for.. since we set our real first date and-” Nat interrupts his rambling, hating and loving seeing her usually so confident friend stumbling over his words.

“You’re doing great, Casanova. Keep this up and she won’t even leave.” You glare at Nat over your shoulder, not wanting her to be mean to Bucky.

“Thank you, I love them.”

He got you a bouquet of beautiful lavender roses, white lilies, and an assortment of small little leaves that tie the whole bouquet together.

“Nat, can you put these in a vase for me please?” You hand the bouquet to her after taking a long sniff, smiling eagerly at her. She nods, taking them from you and handing you your purse.

“Now go on. Have fun kids, use a condom and all that.” You groan, risking a glance at Bucky to see that his cheeks are bright pink.

Feeling better at the fact that you’re not the only nervous one, you take his outstretched arm and allow him to walk you out of your apartment.

“So where are you taking me?” You ask, smiling up at him.

“Well, I know this little café that makes these nice little sandwiches. I figured we could start there, grab a bite to eat and see where the day takes us.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths to calm your heart.

~*~

“I’m really glad you gave me a chance, I know things started really rocky but I... I’m glad I get a second chance.”

You smile at him, setting down your cup of tea and nodding.

“Of course. I don’t think I would have ever heard the end of it from Nat if I didn’t anyway.” The two of you share a laugh, him smiling brightly at you.

“I’ll make sure I thank her.” You nod, taking another sip of the decaf tea, heart thundering in your chest.

“I-I’m sorry, I just need to take something. I’m very nervous and my heart-” He reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing gently.

“You don’t need to explain it to me if you don’t want to. Do whatever you need to do to keep yourself healthy, okay? Your health and happiness... those are my top priority.” You swear if it wasn’t beating unbearably fast against your ribs it would melt.

You take your pills as discreetly as you can, but Bucky, being ever the gentleman, excused himself to the bathroom to give you space to do whatever you need to do.

~*~

“I uh... I pushed Steve out of the way when we were in a really bad fire. I saw the beam coming down and it would’ve killed him. So I pushed him out of the way and... took the damage instead. Doctors told me if I had waited a second longer it would’ve been too high up and would’ve got me right in the chest. Instead... it took my arm.”

You sit idling in Bucky’s truck in front of your apartment, the two of you talking for the past two hours.

“Oh James... I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head, smiling at you. “If it hadn’t happened then Steve wouldn’t be alive and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I could’ve done something. Besides, Tommy thinks it’s pretty cool.” You nod at that, fingers tracing small patterns on his metal hand.

“I uh... When I was younger my mom was really careful with me. She wouldn’t let me do gym class... I could never go out with friends... nothing. One day we got into a nasty fight before I went to school. We called each other names and said awful things...

“I stopped on my way to school and bought an energy drink.” He stiffens beside you, eyes wide.

“I’d never even had caffeinated tea before, but I was so... so angry. I thought that... ‘whatever happens will teach her’. And I drank it. The whole can. I started feeling it halfway through class and when I raised my hand to tell my teacher... I just passed out. Collapsed right there in the middle of math class. They rushed me to the hospital and... I’ll never forget the fear I saw on my mom’s face. They said I almost killed myself. My heart couldn't handle the caffeine and I almost died. So from then on I just kinda... listened to my mom. Lived my life in the safe lane.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, eyes on your pretty face as you continue tracing patterns on his prosthetic.

“I’m glad you took a chance with me,” he whispers.

You look up at him, a shy smile on your face.

“I am too.”

His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, and you do the same, silently granting him permission.

He leans in, and before you have a moment to second-guess your decision, his warm lips are against yours.

You whimper, hand grabbing his wrist while the other finds his hair. He leans forward, lips moving against yours as if that is what they were made to do.

After a moment he pulls away, eyes wide.

“I-I’m sorry! I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have done that. I-is your heart okay?” You giggle, pushing him back into his seat and climbing over until you’re seated comfortably on his lap.

“It's gonna take a little more than some kissing to stop me,” you whisper, bringing your lips back down onto his.

He kisses you with newfound passion, hands gripping your waist and pulling you tight against him. His tongue explores your mouth, dancing with your own and making you feel things you haven’t felt in... ever.

When you pull away to breathe he doesn't stop. No, his lips, teeth, and tongue work their way down your neck until you’re quivering on top of him, body desperate for more.

“Come upstairs,” you whisper, panting against his mouth.

He lets out a weak chuckle then sighs, shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t.” You pull away, giving him a confused look. “Why not?” His hands find your thighs beneath your dress and he rubs his thumbs in circles on the soft skin.

“I... I wanna take my time with you. I wanna take you out again and I wanna wine and dine you real nice. If we just get right to it... It doesn’t feel right.” You go to climb off his lap but he stops you.

“This feels right. I didn’t mean that this,” he motions to where you are,” doesn’t feel right. I just... you already deserve so much more than I can give you, and I wanna do everything I can to prove that I’m gonna take care of you. Believe me, I wanna come upstairs and fuck you until you can’t remember your goddamn name.” You shiver at his words and he chuckles, pulling your hips forward a bit. You gasp as you feel his hard length through his pants, pressing up against you.

“I fucking want you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck. “You’ve got no idea how bad I want you. But you deserve to be taken out and treated like a queen.” He pulls away, flesh hand coming up and cupping your cheek.

“I like you, (Y/n). And I don’t wanna ruin things before they get good.” You rest your hands against his chest, fingers splayed on the warm skin beneath his shirt from where you’ve popped a few buttons open.

“I like you too, James. A lot more than I thought I would. And... if I’m being honest... that scares me.” He frowns, looking up at you and waiting for you to continue.

“I just... what if something happens to you?” His heart melts and he leans up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then another.

“Don’t you worry about me, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as I’ve got you willing to wait for me.” You grin, nodding and leaning down to press a kiss to his chest. Your lips linger long enough to feel the steady pulsing beneath the skin.

“I’m gonna be waiting for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good.”

He walks you up to your apartment, hand held tightly in yours and a goofy smile on his face.

When you reach your door you feel sad that the night is coming to an end. Slowly you turn to him, eyes filled with things you want to say but can’t explain.

He simply chuckles softly, metal hand cupping your jaw gently.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You ask softly, eyelids fluttering closed as he leans down. His lips find yours and you never want them to leave.

They fit so perfectly against yours, you could spend all of eternity kissing him.

Unfortunately, he pulls away after another fantastic moment.

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes on his as he slowly stands up to his full height.

“You can still wine and dine me even if you stay the night,” you whisper, already knowing what his answer will be.

He laughs quietly, shaking his head while smile lines fan out around his eyes.

“You, (Y/n), are gonna be the death of me. But god, what a way to go.” He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek then a lingering kiss to your knuckles before pulling away slowly.

“I’ll see you soon, babydoll. And I promise to text when I get home.” You nod, watching as he walks down the hallway. He shoots a glance over his shoulder when he reaches the elevator, a smile spreading on his face and red coating his cheeks as he sees you watching him.

Only once the door is closed do you unlock your apartment.

You hardly have time to step a foot in when you hear the door behind you open up.

“Next time you put on a show like that let me know so I can make popcorn.” You giggle, turning to Gladys and shaking your head.

“If we had known you’d be peeping on us we wouldn’t have done anything.” She shrugs, smiling at you. “It’s hard not to watch with a man like that standing there.” You roll your eyes at her.

“Goodnight, Gladys.” She’s already back in her apartment.

“So I’m assuming it went well?”

You nearly scream.

“Nat?! What the fuck!” She laughs, throwing her head back and letting out a good belly-laugh.

“You should’ve seen your face!” You glare at her, throwing your purse at her.

“Not funny! Why are you still here?” You kick off your shoes and groan as your toes finally have time to relax after being in heels all day.

“After last time I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong. But from the sounds of it I almost caught something scarring, didn’t I?” You shake your head, sighing and plopping down on the couch with her.

“He’s a fucking gentleman. For better or for worse.” She nods, hand slapping your knee.

“I told you. He’s gonna treat you right, Beans. I promise.”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Stars Aren’t the Only Things That Glitter

A Drifting Stars AU short, collaborating with @clownwry.

2nd, 3rd, 4th.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Grunkle Ford, look out!”

“Mabel, stay back!”

BANG!

“Mabel… MABEL! HOLD ON! I’M COMING! MABEL!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel looked at the blazing fire, trying to pretend to ignore her great-uncles muttering so she might pick up a swear word, be it alien or English was perfectly fine by her. Mabel didn’t pick up any swears, but she did hear the words “reckless” and “irresponsible” and “inconceivable”. The Listening Game did a fair job of distracting her from the pain on her arm and shoulder. Except when Grunkle Ford’s bandages were a little too tight and she would wince at the friction on her burn.

Still muttering through his teeth, his eye glued to the injury through his single-cracked glasses, he did it again, pulling on the bandage a little too hard, this time making Mabel accidentally let am “ouch!” slip past her lips. Ford looked up at her and his expression grew softer and more nurturing. “I’m sorry, my dear, but really, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“They were gonna shoot you…”

“I don’t care.” Ford said firmly. “If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to save yourself and leave me behind, you do so.”

“No.”

The nomadic scientist blinked, slightly surprised by her stubbornness. Only slightly surprised, because she is a Pines, after all. But she is a good kid and in the month they had been traveling the Multiverse, she had never outright defied him like this. “Excuse me?” He wasn’t even stern or angry; he was too surprised (and maybe even a little proud) to properly scold her anymore.

“No. That’s stupid.” Mabel answered, her little cheeks puffed up in determination, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the fire, a flame of her own in the windows to her soul. “I’ll never leave you behind. We’re a family, we gotta stick together if we’re gonna survive and get home. We need each other. Besides, if the tables were turned, would you leave me behind?”

“That’s an entirely different matter.” Ford said with a small smile on his ruffed-up face; he resumed his work on the burn more gently now and finished wrapping it up, securing the bandage. “I’m old, I’ve lived my life. You take priority.”

“I don’t care.” Mabel said, copying Ford’s exact tone and voice from earlier. The grown man snorted with amusement.

Ford decided to put this little argument on hold, seeing how there was no changing Mabel’s mind right now. And he didn’t want to spend the entire evening rebuking her. “You did do a very good job disarming those hunters. I’m very proud of you.”

Mabel sat up a little straighter and smiled up at Ford. “Thank you.”

Ford smiled at her and stood, moving to his large backpack to fish out the things for tea and dinner, though it would probably only be dried meat and oats. “I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.”

Mabel’s eyes widened as her world was put on pause. She felt like she was being sucked into a time vortex, transported into a memory.

Grunkle Stan was dusting some zombie parts off of his armchair when Mabel was walking by, leaving the kitchen after giving Soos his cure for zombification. Stan noticed that Mabel looked very tired. He smiled at her from her seat, and Mabel ran up to him and climbed into his lap for a big hug.

“Hey, you alright?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.” And he gave her a secure squeeze and Mabel happily hugged him back.

Mabel was shoved back into reality, accompanied by a sinking feeling of loss. She missed Grunkle Stan. She missed Dipper. She missed Waddles, and Soos, and Wendy, and the Shack, and Oregon, and California, and Mom and Dad…

Ford turned back to the fire with a kettle and wire-spider in hand, ready to ask Mabel to fetch some water (she always enjoyed being of assistance), but he stopped when he saw her crying with her eyes shut and wiping her cheeks dry with her wrists. Ford was immediately halted and his priorities shifted drastically. Nothing mattered at this moment but making her feel better.

He was swift. Ford scooped up some water from the clean stream into the kettle, then used the wire-spider to hold the kettle over the fire. Giving the water plenty of time to heat up and steam, Ford gently picked Mabel up from her seat on the log, only to hold her close and let her wrap her arms around his neck. He didn’t say a word, being a social-cripple and having no idea what he could say that would make her feel better, so he stayed silent and was simply there for her.

And really, that was all Mabel needed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the two humans were lucky to come across a small rustic town in the woods, reminding Ford of the small Tennessee-town Fiddleford grew up in. Except of course there were no humans, but blue-skinned elves with pointy years and the occasional centaur.

Ford had stolen a bit of money from a hunter yesterday, which meant they got to restock on supplies and even buy a cheap breakfast at an outside cafe. Sitting at a table under an umbrella, Ford was going over his plan with Mabel while she munched on her sweetly-cooked purple apples tossed in spices and sugar.

“... so once we reach this cavern here, we’ll reach a very interesting town called Flush Valley. I’ve heard it specializes in building mechanical limbs and prosthetics, but it’s surrounded by rich minerals perfect for building, so we can find what we need easily here. There may even be a day-by-day job I can get to earn a bit of money for food and shelter.”

“I can work, too! Daddy always said I was like a French horse!” Mabel added in excitedly.

Ford chuckled. “We’ll see. I would feel more comfortable if you were working so I could keep an eye on you. Moving on,” The old scientist sipped his strange alien coffee, but it contained caffeine and somewhat resembled his home dimension’s coffee taste, so he drank it. “The way there could be crawling with scavengers. A lot of people come to Flush Valley just barely hanging on by a thread, easy targets for hunting and stealing food and supplies. So we need to keep our guard up for the next two days.”

“Okay.” Mabel said, as nonchalantly as if Ford told her to remember to add milk to a grocery list.

Ford gave her a firmer look and added, “So, if we think we’re being followed, what do we do?”

“We pretend we don’t know and we keep walking calmly.” Mabel replied. “We keep our eyes open for a way to lose them, and where the sneaky-peaky spies are.”

“Very good.” Ford smiled at her. “If we decide to try to lose them, what do we do?”

“Run as fast as we can. If I can’t catch up I get on your shoulders and focus on making them go away, while you get us away.”

“Yes, excellent. What do we do if we decide to confront them?”

“I grab by sling-shot and exploding rocks and hit as many guys as I can. I aim for the knees or feet so they fall and can’t shoot us. Oh, and we stand with our backs to each other so we see everything, together.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, if we are surrounded and I find a way to escape, what do you do?”

“Make sure you go in so you can lead the way!” Mabel answered with a grin.

“N-No, honey.” Ford said gently with a smile, as if informing a kindergartner that 1+1=2, not 11. “If I find a way to escape, you go first…”

“No,” Mabel said, still smiling as she shook her head. “You go first so I can make sure you’re coming.”

Ford sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Okay, if I tell you to run, you…”

“I grab your hand and run with you, making sure no one gets lost.”

“Mabel, no.”

“Mabel YES!” The girl grinned with determination. “You’re stuck with me, old man! You can’t get rid of me!”

Ford was getting annoyed at this point. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up slightly, and growled, “I’m not trying to get rid of you, I’m trying to save you!”

Mabel gave him a very serious look and questioned, “By leaving me alone out here?”

“No! I-...” But Ford stopped and bit his lip. His niece did have an excellent point. As much as Ford was willing to do anything to keep her safe, as much as Ford was willing to sacrifice his own life for her’s, that really wasn’t a good idea.

There was a good chance Mabel could survive without him, at least until she found a nice family to take her in (or, somehow, miraculously, Stanley opened the portal and brought her home, but Ford didn’t dare to hope for that). But she was so young and inexperienced in the Multiverse. At least when Ford was first thrown into the chaos he was an adult and was accustomed to weirdness thanks to his six years of researching Gravity Falls. Mabel was extremely resourceful, imaginative, intelligent, and clever. She was also stronger and faster than many would assume. But she was too trusting. Too innocent. So, not to belittle Mabel or underestimate her, but she was right; she needed Ford, and as noble as it would be to exchange his life for her’s if it came down to it, that would also be incredibly stupid and only buy Mabel a little more time until she was captured or enslaved or killed or even worse.

And of course, only someone as people-smart and clever as Mabel could make Ford see that.

He sighed tiredly. “O-... Okay.��� Mabel smiled proudly at him. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll try to be more careful.” Ford promised. “I… I just need you to be safe.”

“Don’t worry, I think we do a pretty good job of keeping each other safe.” Mabel complimented, holding out a bite of her fruit on a fork for Ford.

The old man held up a polite hand and declined, but his stomach turned against him and growled, and Mabel frowned at him, giving Ford a deja vu feeling of his mother forcing him and his brothers to eat their vegetables. So Ford smiled and accepted the sweetly cooked fruit. “Yes, I think so, too.”

[yehet-me-up]

Fractions of Tomorrow

Pairing: Zitao/Reader (female)

Word Count: 10,249

Rating/Warnings: PG13

Summary: They always say opposites attract but you and Tao are putting that theory to the test. He works nights at Flanagan’s, you work the crack of dawn shift at Starbucks. He wears leather jackets, sings in a rock band, and drives a motorcycle. You prefer Keds to Chucks, study poetry at UW, and ride a pastel purple bike across town. Luckily, he’s not someone who’s afraid of a challenge.

When Baekhyun dares you and Tao to test the idea that two people can fall in love in one night you don’t expect to care so much, so fast. And when the sun rises all you can hope is that he feels the same.

Part seven of the Exodus Mall series (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

February 28, 1997

His head aches, body still reeling from the alcohol he drank far too much of the night before. The line at Starbucks is endlessly long and he groans. If he was responsible he’d go to the grocery across the street and get a decent breakfast. But his brain needs a substitute for the gin he was coerced into last night by his friends and it will only accept caffeine as an offering. 

A saccharine song pours in from the speakers and people around him clear their throats or rustle in their pockets and the sheer noise of the morning grates against him. He’s a creature of the night; he finds other humans far more tolerable without the sun beating down on him. Only desperation pulled him from his hangover to acquire the nectar of the gods. He taps his foot and shrugs his jacket further up his body, hoping the collar will keep the bright light pouring in from the tall windows from reaching him. 

A sweet voice breaks through the din and he turns to watch you, drawn by the warmth of the sound. It’s not his first time here, but it’s his first time paying attention. In the thriving ecosystem of the Exodus Mall everyone’s a friend of a friend of a cousin of someone and he distantly remembers you’re related to one of Baekhyun’s friends. 

Maybe it’s the way early mornings after late nights distort the world, making everything feel hazy like a dream. Maybe it’s the fact that he went home alone last night, yet again. Maybe it’s the bright, energetic shine in your eyes, astounding for the pre-eight-am time. Or maybe it’s the dimple in your cheek when you smile at the customer, writing his name on the cup and passing it to your co-workers. 

When the man moves aside and you turn your focus on Tao, for whatever reason, his intuition tells him to notice. Maybe it’s an illusion, but today feels different. You feel different. 

‘Hi, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get you?’ 

He opens his mouth, unsure what to say. For a long beat he simply observes you. The little hearts drawn around your name on your name tag. He rolls it around in his mind, matching your face with the word, almost saying it aloud. A dangerous proposition. A door he should leave shut. 

Someone coughs behind him and he shakes his head, stepping forward. ‘Just a big Americano please. As big as possible.’ His voice is thick and his throat dry. One day he’ll remember to drink a glass of water before bed after getting drunk.

You nod, reaching to the stack of cups. ‘A grande?’

He swallows to wet his throat. ‘Sure.’ 

‘Name?’ 

With a deep inhale he smells last night’s cologne still clinging to his skin. God he needs to get his shit together, he thinks with a sigh. His general state of dishevelment is even more noticeable next to you. He wonders if you ironed the collar of your shirt to be that precise or if you simply move through the world without acquiring any wrinkles. 

‘Zitao,’ he says finally. 

‘Cute.’ You say it under your breath but he still hears. His eyes go wide, his sluggish mind coming awake. After handing the cup to your co-worker you say the total. ‘That’ll be four oh two please.’

Automatically he reaches into his pocket for his wallet and pulls out the five dollar bill. He knows he’s staring like an idiot but he can’t help it. You hand him his change and on reflex he drops it into the tip jar. Service industry solidarity, he thinks with a half-smile.

The smile on your face blossoms; tentative at first, it grows when his eyes meet yours again. ‘Thank you!’ You pull a small coffee can out from beside the register and hold it out to him. ‘Anyone who tips gets a poem.’ 

He stares at the can and the slips of paper neatly folded within. Amusement fills him and he reaches for one at random, his fingers brushing yours as he pulls back. The sensation makes him want to linger. How long has it been since he touched someone, in the daylight? Since he wanted to hold and be held? Tao tells himself it doesn’t matter. It can’t. He’s got plans to leave Seattle and he doesn’t need anything tethering him here.

Before he embarasses himself he slides the paper into his pocket with a nod and moves on down the line. As he waits for his drink he keeps his focus on you. The efficiency of your motions and the genuine happiness on your face as you take order after order on the busy Friday morning. People come and go around him but he leans against the wall, waiting, thinking. 

Finally his drink is done and the cup spreads heat along his chilled palms. The world is too sharp and demanding and the thought of a day full of errands on too little sleep followed by a full shift at the bar drags at him. But the smell of coffee and your smile and the mystery poem in his pocket are life preservers thrown to him today. He clings to them with both hands to keep himself afloat. 

On his way out he finally reads the poem you’ve gifted to him. The writing is done with small, neat lettering and he knows it’s yours. 

There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.

There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.

You feel it, don’t you?

- Rumi

With a groan he pushes out the door with his shoulder, blinking on the too-bright sidewalk. It’s too early to feel so raw and exposed, he decides. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday July 18, 1997

You trail into Flanagan’s Pub after Baekhyun and your sister, Hitchcock. It’s not her real name, but she’s had the nickname so long it might as well be. As always, they argue about movies. As always, you’re the third wheel. Not that they’re actually dating. But everyone agrees they should. 

‘Come on, it was brilliant.’ Baekhyun waves his hands dramatically as you wind your way around the crowded bar after them. 

‘I’m not saying it wasn’t,’ she responds. They slide into a booth opposite each other and you follow after your sister. ‘All I’m saying is it’s unrealistic, that’s all.’

Baekhyun scoffs, offended. ‘As if realism was the point here.’ You unfold the drink menu while he carries on, undeterred. ‘I know you’re not a hopeless romantic like myself, but are you honestly telling me that you don’t think it’s possible?’ 

Tonight’s Friday-movie-night tradition was your first viewing of The Fifth Element and Korben and Leeloo’s instant connection has revived their years-long argument about love at first sight. You roll your eyes when your sister shakes her head, leaning forward to tease him. She’s told you about her crush on Baekhyun, her best friend. For someone who’s been in love for as long as you can remember she fights awfully hard against Baekhyun’s romantic nature. Methinks the lady doth protest too much…

‘Look at Before Sunrise,’ Baekhyun says with a click of his tongue. ‘One night and they fell in love.’

She hums and scans the menu. ‘So what? It’s just one night. Show me what happens ten years later. After they see each other with messy morning hair and when he leaves dishes in the sink or, I don’t know, when she bites her nails.’ Baekhyun huffs and she smothers a laugh. ‘Let’s see how that instant love does after it’s put to the test. I’m not saying it isn’t possible, I’m just saying one night doesn’t mean it will stand the test of time, that’s all.’ She folds her menu and rests her elbows on the table, looking incredibly smug. 

Baekhyun opens his mouth to argue but the server arrives and interrupts his tirade. ‘What can I get for you?’ 

The gravelly voice is familiar and your eyes widen in surprise when you see Tao towering over the table. Quickly you look away, back to the dark wood table. 

You’ve noticed him before - at Starbucks, at parties at Baek’s from a distance, at Moe’s ages ago - but tonight he’s so cleaned up you hardly recognize him. Gone are the bags under his eyes and the nervous, jittery, curmudgeon energy that seemed to hang over him like a dark cloud. Tonight his eyes are alert and crinkle at the corner when he smiles broadly and you can’t help but notice. A very bad idea. 

‘Hey man, how’s it going?’ Baekhyun reaches out and does a complex handshake with the man before you. 

‘Oh, you know. Just working at the salt mines,’ Tao says with a laugh. ‘Are you coming to Chan and Soo’s party tomorrow night?’ 

‘You know it. I wouldn’t miss your big send off. My man here is taking off on a national tour on Sunday. Local boy making it big!’ Baekhyun gives Tao a friendly punch on the arm before drumming his fingers on the table and raising a brow. ‘Since you’re here, maybe you can settle an argument for us.’ 

Tao darts a look to you and clears his throat. ‘Sure thing. Lay it on me.’

‘Do you believe you can fall in love with someone in one night?’ Baekhyun waggles his brows at your sister and she groans. ‘Like, soulmates burning-down-the world you’re the person I’ve waited for always Blockbuster kind of love.’ 

He tilts his head to the side, considering. After a moment he shrugs. ‘I’m not sure.’ For a flash Tao’s eyes linger on you once more. ‘I think it would depend on the person.’ And then the bastard goes and winks at you. 

Baekhyun snorts and lounges back in the booth, resting his arm on the back of the seat. 'Good luck, buddy. You'd have better luck charming a brick wall. She only reads about love these days, Double Shot here is a bit gun-shy at putting it into practice again.’

You glare at Baekhyun, body going rigid at being called out. For as long as he's been your sister's best friend he's acted like a surrogate older brother to you. He vacillates between telling you it’s good you’re so focused on your studies and telling you that you're too serious, too focused on school and work. Since you got broken up with Baekhyun seems focused on the latter, always needling you to go out and have fun. But, as they say, once burned twice shy. 

You focus intently on your hands resting on the table and absolutely avoid looking at Tao. From the first time you rang him up at Starbucks you knew his gaze would see more than you'd like. He's the type to see through every bullshit line you give about how you’re fine being alone, fine with how things ended, fine fine fine. 

If life was kind the three of you would order and Tao would leave and that would be the end of it. You could safely stay in your cocoon and hide. But of course, life doesn't play fair. 

Tao sticks the pen behind his ear and folds his arms. ‘Is that a bet?’

Your cheeks warm and your heart races. Finally, you look up to him fully. 'Excuse me?' 

He shrugs and gives you a lopsided smile. 'If you're game, of course. What do you say, shall we put this to the test?' 

'You want to see if we'd fall in love in a night?' You're certain you look like a terrified animal. In a vain attempt to fold yourself back into someone confident you lean against the booth, pressing your feet to the ground and making your spine tall and straight. 'What makes you think you're even my type?'

‘Sweetheart, I’m everyone’s type.’ 

God knows he probably is. Tall, handsome bad boy who sings like an angel, drives a stupidly hot motorcycle, and looks like he knows the fastest way to make you come undone with just a look. But charming is only skin deep and in return you want to see if there’s anything underneath it that would keep your interest. 

‘Fine, then.’ You hold out your hand. ‘I’ll take your bet.’ Stubborn, always so stubborn. Baekhyun giggles and claps excitedly as you grip Tao’s rough, much larger hand.  

Your sister leans across you to stare Tao down. 'Hang on. I'm not about to let her go off with some random dude. How do we know you're trustworthy?' Hitchcock has turned her interrogation mode on. ‘I’ve seen you around, but I don’t know you from Bruce Willis.’

He must have other tables to attend to, other things to do, but he rests his palms on the table and leans down to meet her glare. 'I'm an open book. Ask me anything.' The move brings him inches from you. He smells like whisky, the kind that burns, and you swallow instinctively in response. 

She narrows her eyes and hums. 'How old are you?' 

'Twenty three.' 

'Did you go to school?' 

He chuckles. 'High school. No need for college.'

'Why not?' You speak up, preparing for an argument. He looks like he could actually keep up with you and a spark of excitement grows low in your body.

'Between singing and bartending I make plenty of money.’ He answers you, not your sister. ‘Don't get me wrong, I respect an education. But I get far more inspiration from living life than from just reading about it.' 

You bristle. As a poetry major this feels like a personal attack. ‘Are you telling me you’ve never read anything that made you feel - I don’t know - inspired. Magical. Exposed?' You press your lips together, wishing you could gather the words back. 

Tao looks at you through his lashes, bending close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips when he speaks. ‘Words are just the appetizer, darling. I prefer to have an entire feast.’ 

His dancing eyes dart down to your lips. But then he straightens, pulling the pen out and readying it on the pad. You grip the table to avoid swaying towards him and almost hate him for how much of a magnetic pull he seems to have over you. 'Any other questions or can I grab your orders?'

Baekhyun orders a Smirnoff Ice, delight pouring off him. Your sister narrows her eyes at Tao for a moment. Finally, she relents and orders a sex on the beach. You stare at the red plaid shirt tied around Tao’s hips and order something. An Appletini maybe? Your mind seems to have abandoned you but thankfully Tao nods and winds his way back through the crowd to the bar. In his absence you can breathe fully and look up to see Baekhyun smirking. 

‘What?’ you practically groan at him. 

‘Oh, nothing.’ He looks like the cat that caught the canary. ‘I just love being right.’ 

Hitchcock kicks him under the table and he winces, reaching for his shin. They resume their discussion, transitioning to talking about their opening shifts at the theater tomorrow and how much they can reasonably drink tonight and still be functional in the morning. You drum your nails on the lacquered wood table and wonder if your heart is racing from the heat of the packed bar or from the prospect of Tao holding you to your bargain. 

The man himself comes back with drinks a moment later. When he slides the light green concoction across the table to you he tilts his head in question. ‘So, how about tonight?’ 

You choke on your sip and fight the burn in your throat. ‘Are you serious? So soon?’

He grins. ‘Why, did you want time to get ready? I think if we’re going to put it to the test it would have to be tonight. Also, I leave on Sunday morning, so the clock is ticking so to speak.’ 

‘But I work tomorrow at Starbucks. At the crack of dawn.’ You sputter, waving your hand in front of you. ‘I didn’t think you-’

‘Guess we should get started soon, then.' He winks again and you're tempted to throw your drink at him, just to get the upper hand. ‘I get off at nine.’ Without another word he puts the serving tray under his arm and leaves.

Your sister rolls her eyes. ‘You’re such a bad influence, Baek.’ 

He throws his arms out wide. ‘I can’t help it baby, I’m a lover. What can I say?’ 

She snorts and pats you on the back sympathetically. You down your drink in two swallows and absolutely refuse to look at Tao, Baekhyun, or your sister. Instead you pull some bills from your purse and push your way out of the bar before anyone can suggest anything else insane. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes you several tries to find a presentable outfit. It's been more than six months since that last fateful date and in the time between you’ve built a literal barrier around yourself, bundling up in sweaters and blankets at home, only emerging for work and class and Friday movie nights. 

Baekhyun's words come back to you as you frown and throw yet another outfit on the bed. Are you really a brick wall, impenetrable and cold? You weren't always, surely. Byron's 'and thus, the heart will break, yet brokenly live on' swims in your mind, still fresh from the finals you took just a few weeks ago. 

You don't feel broken, just stuck. Numb. Waiting. You hold a dress up to your body and wonder if your ex feels the same or if he, as the one who did the dumping, moved on instantly, and it's just the broken-up-with half that flails around trying to find new footing.

With an defiant press of your lips you sigh and settle on your favorite black and white checkered dress and white Keds. It’s a declaration of intent in a peter pan collar. Your ex always hated your clothes, what you chose to study, your music; everything about you screamed soft and he tried so hard to bend and form you into someone he wanted. 

But you are as you are - romantic and idealistic and sweet. You roll your eyes. It’s the truth, and you remind yourself that just because you didn’t match him doesn’t mean you have to change just to make someone else happy. The outfit screams innocence it dares Tao to judge you tonight. As if you care what he thinks. Which you definitely do not. 

You barely make it back in time to Flanagan’s. When you rush up Tao is pushing out of the bar onto the street. A thrill runs down your spine at his smile when he sees you. Your ex doesn't control you anymore, you remind yourself. You get to decide when you move on; when you stop mourning something that's dead and over and find something new. Even if it's not with Tao, tonight is an experiment. To see if you can handle a fresh start.

‘Hi,’ you start, breathless from your hurrying. 

'Hi yourself. You still game?' he asks, mischief in his eyes and hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. 'If you want an out I won't hold it against you.' He looks you up and down and smirks, but doesn’t comment on your appearance.

In return you scan him as well. His hair is mussed just-so and his earrings match too well to be an accident. He’s trying too, even if his devil-may-care attitude would make others think he’s not. Everyone has an image they present to the world, tonight you’ll find if there’s substance behind Tao’s.

You press your tongue between your teeth and tilt your head at him. 'I'm ready to be surprised.' 

He barks out a laugh. ‘Fair enough. I’ll see what I can do’ 

Tao starts to move towards you across the sidewalk, but you hold out a hand at the level of his chest, stopping his movement. 'So, love, huh? There's not some girlfriend or boyfriend of yours waiting for you at home?'

‘I belong only to myself. For now, at least.' He smiles and holds his arms out wide. His brows tug together suddenly. For a moment he looks unsure. Vulnerable. But the look is gone so fast you wonder if you imagined it. ‘What about you?’ 

You want to fold in on yourself and turn away, hiding. As if the stain of failure is written across your face. The words that were thrown your way like scarlet letters on your skin for him to see. Prude. Uptight. Tease. Your stomach churns and you’re glad you only had the one drink tonight. 

‘Single.’ You suck in a breath after you get the word out, like it stole all the air from your lungs in speaking it. 

He nods, holding your gaze for a moment. Those eyes of his drink you in and you’re sure he can see it - the hesitation and the fear. But once more he simply stands tall and gives you space to think. ‘Shall we head towards the waterfront?’ 

A public place, lively and full of people on a Friday night. Safe, reassuring. He didn’t suggest a club or somewhere heavy with expectation and you like him better for it. Tao waves an arm out in front of you, inviting you to go first and you start walking, clutching your purse under your arm. 

He falls into step beside you. 'So I guess if we're going big or going home, shall we start with our dating history?'

You should have expected this level of inquisition, especially from someone who is friends with Baekhyun. ‘Jesus, you don’t pull any punches.’ But against your will you let out a laugh. 

There’s something refreshing about someone who seems like, for all his mystery, he doesn’t hold any secrets. Everything out in the cool night air and you wonder if it would be freeing, to let it all go. To not question the words you say. To trust that the person you’re speaking them to will hold them without judgement.

‘Never have, never will,’ he reassures you. The cat-like grin on his lips is teasing. ‘That I can guarantee you. I’m happy to go first, if you’d like?’

You nod, and he sighs, looking through the clouds to the moon that peeks through. The streets are dry for once, a brief respite after the wet Seattle spring. Everyone around you takes in the night with gleeful laughter, on the search for music and connection and entertainment. But even with the full sidewalks around you all you feel compelled to do, inexplicably, is lean in closer to hear Tao. 

A group of women brush by you, giggling, forcing you into Tao to avoid them. On instinct he reaches out an arm to keep you both from being overrun. You turn into him and end up meeting his eyes. In the night they’re so dark they look almost black, with flashes of light from passing cars.

The moment stretches around you and irrationally you want to stop him before he says anything else. No stories of the people he’s been with or kissed or loved or wrote songs about. Maybe that’s the appeal of one night love stories, you think. The beginning of love is always a lightning bolt. If that’s all it ever is you never have to deal with being knocked on your ass by the resulting thunderstorm. 

The women pass and Tao respectfully brings his hand back to his pocket and time carries on. But the look on his face remains as you both start walking towards the Market again. 

‘I should say up front, I uhh - I guess that I’ve never been in a relationship. Actually.’ He runs a hand through his hair and winces like he’s ashamed of it. ‘I came close a few times. But it’s just never worked out.’ 

You open your mouth but aren’t sure what to say. Do you make fun of him for clearly being a playboy, not wanting to be tied down, fitting the stereotype of the rockstar he’s on a path to becoming? Do you play coy, asking him if you might fit the bill? Or do you reassure him? 

The latter feels the most natural. ‘You’re young. It’s the nineties. I don’t think it’s unusual to be playing the field right now.’ You lift a shoulder and shrug, the edge of your black denim jacket slipping down your back a bit with the motion. It exposes the skin of your collarbone above the strap of your dress, where your neck meets your chest. 

Tao licks his lips and drags his eyes away from your shoulder to meet yours with a nod. ‘That’s true. I guess most of my friends are single. Sehun is. Jongin is. Baekhyun is, for sure. Even if he is in love with your sister.’ Your jaw drops and Tao bites his lip. ‘Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don’t tell her I -’ 

He looks genuinely panicked and you laugh, waving a hand. ‘Trust me, she’s in love with him too. They’re both too stubborn to admit it though. So your secret is safe with me.’ 

Tao sighs, relaxing, and gives you a half smile. ‘Thank you, I appreciate that.’ The neon lights from the bars and clubs along Pike street pass over his face, painting him dozens of bright colors. ‘So, that’s my story. Too busy working and writing lyrics and singing to be tied down. What’s yours?’ 

‘That’s hardly a story,’ you challenge, raising a brow. ‘More like the cover of a book.’

‘It’s plenty!’ he laughs. ‘I’ve exposed myself as a perpetually single man. I think that tells you tons about me.’ At your pursed lips he continues. ‘Fine. I’ve been chasing music for so long that I have avoided getting serious with anyone, lest it keep me from my dreams of stardom. I crave that intensity between me and an audience when I sing, but I’m afraid to let myself have something real. Something intimate, that expects more of me past one performance. I’m afraid that off-stage I’m more disappointing than on et cetera et cetera.’ 

He cuts off his rambling monologue, his eyes widening as he stops in his tracks for a moment, like he can’t believe he just said so much. But you stand next to him without judgement. Something about his disarming honesty and expressiveness makes you want to tell him the truth, ugly that it might be. 

While you stand on the corner and wait for the light to change you look at the zipper of his leather jacket to avoid his eyes and spit it out. ‘I got dumped six months ago.’ You lift your hands and drop them uselessly to your side. 

He tilts his head back in appraisal. Blessedly the teasing is gone from his face. He doesn’t offer sympathy, cloying and patronizing words about how you’ll find someone else. He doesn’t flirt with you, even though that seems to be his nature. 

‘I don’t know the circumstances, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but all I can say is - it’s his loss.’ He gives you a slight smile, not moving even when the light changes, and you can’t help but return it. 

It’s strange that it could be so simple. Perhaps if you do carry on something with Tao you’ll tell him more. But for tonight it can be that easy. The pain and doubt and shame can fade into a pinprick of light heading off into the distance and get swallowed up by the night. Like you can just wipe the slate clean and start over. You inhale a deep breath of cool, salty air and look up at Tao, your smile growing, becoming more genuine and whole. 

A lightness fills you and you wind your arm through his, pulling him into the crosswalk just as the last few seconds show on the countdown. He lets you guide him easily and you come to rest on the concrete looking down at the Pike Place Market. The bright neon red sign reflects against the dark night and the inky blue waters of the Bay beyond it. In the twilight ships move back and forth through the port, full of tiny lights of their own. 

He drops his hand a little, running over the clothed skin of your arm until he reaches your palm. The contact of his hand on yours makes you jolt. ‘Is this okay?’

Without thinking you nod, twining your fingers with his, savoring the heat as he presses against you. Your ex hated holding hands in public, hated any kind of PDA, calling it childish. But Tao stands by your side, hand in hand, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

People mill about you, heading to the endless restaurants and food stands that line the Market. In summer it’s in full bloom, crowded every night, and after a long winter and spring holed up in your apartment it’s disorienting to be out in the world again.

You start walking together, without a plan. It’s far more comfortable than you’d expected, the companionable silence with him. Everyone in your life talks a mile a minute - Baekhyun and your sister, your co-workers at the busy coffee shop, your classmates, hungry for discussion - but Tao seems content to just hold your hand and admire the rows of vendors you pass. The lack of pressure from him eases something that had drawn tight and anxious in your chest over the last few months. 

Before you is a maze of stalls. Tables full of tulips in bright yellows and pinks, bouquets wrapped in brown paper, that you stop to smell. Screen printed tee shirts with the Sonics logo or photos of the Space Needle or trendy political puns that Tao points out with a laugh. People sell everything from watercolor paintings to homemade honey to snow globes. As a recent college grad, you’re saving all your money, but everything is still fascinating to look at. 

The two of you settle on a kebab place for dinner after a long debate about the merits of the taco cart and the hole-in-the-wall seafood stop. The steam brings the rich smell of meat and vegetables to you. Against your protests to split the bill, Tao insists on buying dinner. 

‘If this is an official date I have to follow the guidelines,’ he winks. 

You roll your eyes and defiantly go to the next stall to order two Jones sodas from the seller. When you hold them up he laughs and inclines his head. ‘Alright, that’s fair.’ 

When you’re settled on the narrow rock wall beyond the far edge of the market, balancing Jones sodas on the uneven stones with a warm kebab resting on your knees, he carries on. 

'So, poetry. What made you choose that?' He asks around a bite.

After a sip of soda you tilt your head at him. ‘You can't laugh, okay?'

'Why would I laugh?’ His brows furrow like it’s the furthest thing from his mind. ‘I'm a singer, sweetheart. I don't take the arts lightly and anyone who does is an asshole.' He narrows his eyes at you in mock seriousness but the way his mouth fights a smile is endearing.

You snort, liking him yet again without planning on it. ‘I don’t know. I’ve always loved it and sometimes I try to write it. I’ve had some job or another since high school, so I’m confident I can always get a job if I need it but - there’s something so - so delicious about poetry.’ You swallow another drink of your soda and Tao’s eyes flick to the motion of your throat. ‘If I was going to go to college, and our parents kind of insisted on it, I wanted to study something I loved.’

Tao lifts his own soda and clinks it to yours in solidarity. ‘I can respect that. What’s your favorite poem?’

Suddenly shy you turn to set your soda down on the stone beside you, letting your hair fall over your face while you think. It’s not that you don’t know, but that it feels too close, too personal to tell him just yet. ‘That’s very private.’

When you look back to him he holds your gaze for a moment. ‘Hmm. Okay I can respect that. Favorite songs are pretty personal too so I’ll let you hold onto it, for now.’ With a movement as casual as breathing he tucks your hair behind your ear, as though he does it twenty times day, and resumes his eating. 

Poems run through your head as you chew, heart racing. You’d thought this was an experiment that would quickly go south. A quick walk to prove that you’re not compatible. A smug ‘I told you so’ to Baekhyun. And then a return to the comfort of your bed to read for the night. You didn’t expect to want him. Words, endless remembered words filter across your consciousness, ones of love and lust and death and the exhilaration of life. 

Normally your own creative voice is quiet, too afraid to give permanence to the ideas, the words, that live inside you. But as you watch the gentle night breeze ruffle his dark hair you think you could write some tonight, if you had pen and paper. Instead you shove an enormous bite in your mouth and chew, afraid of the attraction you have to him. 

When you’re both done eating he holds his hand out for your trash and you wad up the wrapper and hand it to him along with the empty bottle. He walks over to the trash and dutifully puts the bottles in the recycle, like any good Seattle boy. Dusting off his hands he turns back towards you, approaching slowly and holding out his hands. 

After a moment’s hesitation you reach for him, allowing him to help you stand. Continuing the night’s adventure. When you’re on your feet he releases one of your hands, keeping the other one tucked in his as the two of you wind your way back through the crowds. Both of you stop to pat the bronze pig at the crux of the Market for good luck.

He leads the way down the narrow stairs to Post Alley and the line outside the comedy club at its base winds around in a long chain. It’s funny, normally you’d want to know The Plan. Baekhyun calls you anal retentive, but you just consider yourself organized. You like knowing what’s coming. But tonight you consent to following him without knowing the destination. You bite back a smile - it’s exciting and terrifying all at once.

A group of people tries to come up the stairs as you’re going down and you are pressed against the rail, trying not to slip. It definitely isn’t meant to be wide enough for both directions of people at the same time. As if sensing your predicament Tao presses his broad back into the rowdy man behind you, ignoring his grumbles of annoyance, making space so you can descend the last few steps onto the courtyard. 

Out front of the Market Theater you thank him and wonder what exactly his plan is. Is he taking you to an improv show? A concert? Drinks? With your hand still in his he gently moves to the left, under the archway and in front of the long gum wall. You raise a brow at him but he merely smiles and shrugs. 

‘I didn’t peg you for someone who likes tourist attractions.’ 

His eyes dance with amusement. ‘Oh yeah? What kind of person did you imagine me to be?’ 

You purse your lips and try to figure out how to answer him. ‘I’m not sure, actually. Normally I can read people pretty easily, but I can’t pin you down.’ 

‘Me?’ He presses his hand that holds yours to his chest. ‘Baby, I’m an open book.’

The gum wall around you smells sickly sweet and you can almost taste it on your tongue. Everyone around you is taking polaroids in front of the wall or chewing their own gum in preparation to add to it. 

You wonder what the two of you look like from an outsider’s perspective. Tao, tall and imposing with his thick motorcycle boots. You with your white Keds and sweet, checkered dress and headband. It might seem like you’re an odd couple, but the heartbeat in his chest against your hand is strong and underneath it all perhaps you’re not so different. 

With a breathy laugh and a roll of your eyes you grip his hand and pull him further along the alley beside the gum walls, towards the water. Nearby one of the many buskers permitted to perform along Pike Place starts signing a loud and heartfelt, if slightly off-key, rendition of ‘Sweet Caroline,’ drawing the cheers of the onlookers. 

Away from the crowd in Post Alley you emerge onto a side street a block or so from the water. Tilting your head back you watch as everyone sings along. Tao’s free arm suddenly comes around your waist and dramatically he starts swaying you back and forth, crooning along to the Neil Diamond song far better than the busker. A few other people on the street around you smile or laugh, making their way to the pier up ahead. 

Instead of asking him what on earth he’s doing or feeling embarrassed about dancing in the middle of the sidewalk you just cling to him and try to keep up. His voice is rich and soothing, his hand holding you against him is sturdy and comforting. You can’t help but giggle and roll with it, holding onto his jacket and watching his jaw move as he sings. 

All too soon the performance back at the Market behind you ends and the last lyrics are drowned out by applause. Tao takes a step back and the night is cold without his warm embrace. You long to step forward and close the distance once more. Instead you brush your hair back and compose yourself. 

‘What kind of music do you like to sing?’ you ask as the two of you resume your progress towards the pier. 

‘All kinds.’ He shrugs. ‘But mostly love songs.’ 

‘Really?’ The light before you changes and ahead the aquarium looms in the night. To your left is the Kingdome waits, past the long stretch of the boardwalk. Without waiting for Tao you head that direction, the briny ocean air filling your lungs. 

He easily comes to your side. ‘Of course. Everything’s about love I think, when you get down to it.’ 

‘You weren’t singing love songs when I saw you perform.’ 

You answer without thinking, remembering the concert a few months ago that you and your sister went to. Baekhyun had invited you both to see Chanyeol’s band - Yeol and the Salty Wolves - and Tao was performing with the opening group. 

‘You’ve seen me on stage?’ His proud grin is teasing and playful and damned if you don’t want to kiss him. 

‘Yeah. It - my sister dragged me out of the house. She thought getting outside would do me some good.’ You focus on picking off a section of your pink nail polish that’s started to chip. ‘You guys were great. But you were definitely yelling about anarchy, not love.’ 

The imagine of him in his tank top, wide slits cut under the arms revealing a broad swath of his tanned skin, singing passionately, makes you suddenly very aware of him. Tonight he’s composed, a rebel in street clothes. But that night his face was slicked with sweat from his intensity, red in the cheeks and headbanging along with the crowd and the rest of the band. Even that night, so close after your recent break up, you wanted him. It was a dangerous idea then and it’s a dangerous idea now. 

He hums and veers to the right, heading down one of the longer piers. ‘I could argue that anarchy still is love. Love of your beliefs and love of a person or a place or a thing so much that you’re willing to fight for it, to go to war for what you care about.’ 

To that you don’t argue. ‘That’s true. I guess anything could be love when you get down to it. There’s so many poems about sadness - missing love or rejected love. Anger. Bitterness.’ 

The wooden boards of the pier below you give a gentle thunk with each heavy step of Tao’s huge boots. Below you the water sloshes against the planks. Now at the end you lean forward, resting your elbows on the railing, before turning back to Tao. 

‘I guess this is a day to be debating love,’ you smirk, thinking back to the conversation that got you into this. In the wind off the Bay you shiver. 

Like a reflex Tao shrugs out of his jacket and holds it out to you. But you lean over and wave your hand at him. ‘No it’s okay, I’m fine. Please, you don’t have to -’ 

But he drops it over you anyways, the warm weight of his jacket settling on your shoulders and insulating you from the wind. In his black, long-sleeve shirt he doesn’t even seem cold. With a sigh you pull it more fully onto you and bend upright again, inches from him. 

‘Debating love indeed. See I think love and intimacy is made far too complex by a lot of people.’ He slowly rubs his hands together, forearms resting on the railing as he leans over, looking at the waves. ‘I think it comes from knowing someone. Really knowing them. Hopes and fears and memories and all of that. and choosing to be with them. Simple and complicated as that.’

‘Simple as that?’ you gape at him, holding your wind-tousled hair out of the way with one hand so you can look at him. ‘There's no way to truly know someone in one night, though. There's too much nuance for love in such a short time.’ The beating of your heart in your palms when you look at him would argue otherwise and you inhale deeply, trying to keep your center. 

‘Hence why I also said complicated. But now we’re debating what love itself means.’ His gaze darts down to your lips before he meets your eyes. ‘I know plenty about you.’ 

You open your mouth to argue but he carries on. ‘I know you’re stubborn, given the soda earlier and the coat just now. I know you’re practical and competent - I’ve seen you at your job. I know you’re a romantic at heart, you have to be to study poetry, and even if some asshole temporarily doused that fire you look for evidence that love is real everywhere.’ 

Feeling raw and exposed you try to find anything to say to brush off the way his statements cut to the heart of you. ‘That doesn’t mean you - uhm - that you know me.’ 

The word you almost said in your haste was love and the thought makes your palms sweat. Irrational. Impossible. Everyone always says your emotions are easy to read, that they’re written all over your face, and you wonder what he sees as he watches you. The moment you said it you could see the slow smile start on his lips. At the very least he knows you’re not arguing with him as much as arguing with yourself, against what you feel. 

He leans in closer so that his forehead touches yours, low voice almost a murmur. ‘But I want to know you more. I want to do a lot of things. Does that count?’ 

‘Count?’ If you wanted to you could press up on your toes and kiss him. The thought is intoxicating and you close your eyes, heaving a breath into your lungs. 

After a long moment of thinking and waiting and wondering you finally open them again. Tao looks just as conflicted as you are - his brows tug together and the casual flirtation is gone. He holds himself still before you and something far more serious crosses his face. Though he doesn’t answer with words the look in his eyes telegraphs his feelings for you. 

With a sigh he pulls back, reaching to the railing with both hands to steady himself, and you sway in his absence. He looks up at the night sky, at the moon through the clouds, and smiles. The stars peek through here and there. It’s not a cold night, just a breeze across the water to relieve the heat from the long summer day. Distantly a line of poetry comes to you, about being thirsty, parched almost, and wanting to drink him in to quench it. 

Rather than indulge the dangerous impulse to touch him again you take off back down the boardwalk. Back to the city and the lights and far away from the closeness of being with him in the dark. The pressure of his thick jacket will have to be enough, for now. 

‘So, where do you want to go next?’ You’re impressed you manage to sound steady. 

He sticks his hands in his pockets once more and ambles after you, a small smile gracing his lips. ‘I know a place.’ 

As you make your way along the waterfront he turns the conversation to safer territory. You fill each other in on your jobs - how they started and what you like and don’t like. Co-workers who are dating, friends you have in common at the mall. Notorious customers. Tao has dozens of stories and his laugh is easy, his eyes bright with flirtation now that you’re both on safer ground. 

Through the night you meander around the city in a vague Northward direction. Past the Science Center, it’s great white sculptures lit up. Around the Space Needle and the fountain. Another city and the streets would be deserted this late. But here there’s groups of people, laughing and splashing each other at the base of the enormous bowl that forms the center of it. You pass the occasional jogger or couple holding hands, walking home. 

The two of you stop to use the restroom and get a drink of water at a 24 hour grocery store. Tao also insists on buying some snacks, chocolate and a bag of chips that you keep in the large pockets of his jacket as you progress to the edges of Lake Union. 

It’s easy, being with him. His energy is calm, reassuring. He’s got a wicked and witty sense of humor you wouldn’t have expected and you easily spend half an hour looking out at the boats, making up other, naughtier names for them. 

It turns out he likes X-Files just as much as you and your sister do. As you stroll along the Fremont bridge you end up taking his hand once more. The snacks are gone and you can’t resist touching him again. It must be well after midnight, but he doesn’t mention going home. Strangely, you don’t want to either. For someone who’s life has become so habitual you’re surprized you’ve not even spared a thought for your nightly routine of reading in bed with a glass of wine and a candle burning on the windowsill. 

There will be other nights for that, but for tonight you let the momentum of the evening carry you along with him. You both decide to skip a visit to the Troll, not wanting to tempt any disasters. The Keds on your feet hold up well and you give a thanks to your past self for not wearing heels or sandals. 

Eventually his destination becomes clear. The gates to the park are closed for the night. ‘Gas Works? This is your plan - breaking and entering?’ 

He nods, biting his lip. ‘Yep. I know a way in. The nighttime view is unbeatable.’ 

You hold out your hands, gesturing to the enormous PARK HOURS: DAWN TIL DUSK sign. 

‘Afraid of being caught?’ 

You roll your eyes. ‘Yes, actually. I don’t think getting arrested for trespassing would be a great thing for my resume.’ 

Tao considers before backing towards the edge of the fence with a smirk. ‘Come on. How about a little mischief here ‘upon the honey’d middle of the night’?’

‘You know Keats?’ It leaves you breathless, rooted to the ground. It’s not from your favorite poem, but he is your favorite poet. A good guess or has he been doing his research? 

‘Of course. Don’t you?’ Tao teases, folding back a corner of the fence and easing himself through. 

You scoff and charge after him. The smug bastard can’t just quote Keats and then run away from you. Once again you want to kiss the proud look off his face, to rattle him the way he seems so capable of rattling you, getting underneath your surface. With a last thought to your reputation you step through after him and a thrill runs down your spine. 

The rusted red containers and machines that form the center of the park are tall ghosts in the night, rising from the grass and casting long shadows around you in the distant light from the city. He holds out his hand and you easily catch it, both of you winding your way carefully around the gentle hills to make your way to the view. 

You find a suitable spot and sit down on the grass. ‘You’re right,’ you tell him reluctantly. 

‘About what?’ Tao sits beside you, linking his hands over his knees. He sits near enough you can feel his thigh pressing against yours. Close, always so close, but not as close as you want him.  

‘About this.’ You gesture to the Seattle skyline in front of you. 

Sure you’ve been in the daytime, watching the boats sail on Lake Union and the groups of yoga practitioners and families with young kids fill the grassy slopes down to the water. But by night the lights of the city look like a painting. Skyscrapers touching the clouds as the first hints of sun are lightening the horizon. 

‘I thought you’d enjoy it.’ He nudges you with his shoulder and smiles at you. 

The gentle sounds of the water below is relaxing. Even as you lift your hand to cover a yawn you don’t truly feel tired, like the night and closeness to him could keep you awake forever, if you let them. But even so, dawn is coming and you think back to the reason that you’re both here. 

‘So. About that bet?’ Your words are a sigh and somewhere between the late hours and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles you don’t second guess the question. 

He side eyes you and can’t smother the grin on his face. ‘You mean the one about if we can fall in love in one night?’ 

‘Yes, that.’ It must be the lack of sleep causing the giddiness you feel, you tell yourself, as you lean back against the grass and cover your face with your hands. 

His own hands find yours and you turn to see him on his side next to you. Gently he pulls them down, holding them to his chest, so he can look you in the eyes. ‘Hmm, I don’t know about love, but I feel a whole hell of a lot right now. We never came up with an objective definition of it, anyways.’ 

You snort. ‘Did you honestly just say ‘objective definition?’’ 

‘Yes, I think if we’re going to agree here, we need to be on the same page.’ With his intense focus on yours he brushes a kiss against the backs of your hands. ‘If we say love is a feeling, who’s to say that we aren’t in love? If we decide it’s an action then which one is it? A kiss or a commitment or - maybe it’s nothing more complicated than putting words to the way I feel when you look at me?’ 

The smile blooms across your face and right then you’re tempted to say it’s all of them. How much you want his mouth on yours and his hands all over you. How you’re not quite sure you know how to have a relationship with a man anymore, after your ex, but that you want to try with him. How wild and free you feel being next to him. 

‘I don’t know about -’ you whisper. You let the truth fall out, not bothering to think about what it might mean. ‘Long term or after tonight. But I’d say, much that I hate to admit Baekhyun could be right, I’d say… uhm, he could be right.’

You avoid Tao’s eyes, focusing on his jaw or the fabric of his shirt or the way his hands hold yours. But still you see how he smiles, almost glowing in the light of the moon and the barest reflection of the sun coloring the skyline to your left. 

He clears his throat, pressing another kiss to your hand. ‘Well, I'd look at it this way. Let's say we do get together. Maybe we last a month or maybe we last for the rest of our lives. Another fifty or sixty years. In either of those cases tonight would be just a fraction of the relationship. A small sliver. Important when looking at the broad view of a life together, but not crucial by itself.’

With a nod you look at him and the heat in his eyes makes you gasp. He moves over you, releasing your hands to brace himself on the ground behind your head. The sturdy press of his body reminds you this isn’t a movie or a dream, it’s something real that’s happening to you. The cool grass sinks into your dress at your back and brushes against your thighs. 

'Or.' His hot breath cascades across your lips. 'If all we have is tonight.' Moving himself to the side he runs his nose along your jaw, mouth teasing the skin of your neck with barely there kisses. 'One night would be everything. For all the marbles, as they say.' He pulls back and looks at you with a lopsided grin. 

You huff out a breath, blowing your bangs out of your eyes, absently running your hands across his shoulders, along his chest. 'I don't know. I like knowing there's always time for more. Like - what if I was tired tonight or hungry or cranky and I messed it up? The thought of just one night still makes me nervous.’ 

He kisses your forehead and the words come faster, as if hurried along by the morning. ‘If we're a forever thing, then it's okay, because there will be a thousand more chances to get it right. But just once? How can it be perfect if it's so brief?'

'Well, even if we do get together we'd still only have one first kiss.' He rests on one elbow and uses his free hand to cup your jaw, clearing his throat around the roughness of his voice. 'Do you want to wait or shall we attempt perfection tonight?'

The thought of waiting any longer makes you far sadder and you nod. ‘Screw it - kiss me. Please?’ 

Instead of answering he simply drops his head, closing the distance and sealing his mouth over yours. He groans at the contact, the sound vibrating in his chest where it rests against yours. You grip his neck, winding your fingers through the strands of his hair and hold on, to ground yourself, between him and the grass as he slowly, hungrily, kisses you.

Your eyes flutter for a moment as he sucks on your lower lip. Behind him the sky is bright, the rays of light spilling through the clouds and rendering him art himself. The arch of his brows, full of emotion. You squeeze your eyes closed and hold him tight, grazing his neck with your nails and sighing into his open mouth. Before you can kiss him again he pulls back, his cheeks flushed and his eyes full of delight. 

‘That was pretty damn good.’ He huffs out a laugh, running his tongue along his lower lip like he’s trying to keep the taste of you close. ‘Are you sure you want to risk another one? It could be -’

‘Yes,’ you answer immediately. ‘Again.’ 

He grins and buries his face in your neck, his hot breath falling on your sensitive skin. ‘I think we’ve found the crucial difference between us.’ At your hum he carries on. ‘I can take one moment and hold onto it forever, perpetually living off the way it felt. You want to have it over and over again. And here I thought you were the poet.’ 

Rolling onto his back he pulls you on top of him with a squeal as you right yourself, bracing hands on his shoulders for balance. His hand rests against your cheek. ‘But if it helps. I - feel the same way.’ 

‘Oh.’ To keep your surprise and delight from exploding all over your face you bite your lip. ‘Alright then.’ You trace patterns in the fabric covering his chest. 

It’s as simple and as complicated as that, just like he said, hours ago. 

As the day rises full and bright with the heat of the sun you do indeed kiss again. Several more times. When you’re both red lipped and thirsty and covered in wrinkled clothes you head back to your apartment by UW. He gives you a piggy back ride when your feet start to hurt and helps you make breakfast with a sleepy smile and runs his fingers over the covers of the numerous books stacked on every surface of your apartment and all the while the feeling in your chest grows, not diminishes. 

You hurry through a shower and getting dressed for work while he patiently waits on the couch. His eyes are closed when you emerge, putting your hair back in a ponytail. Leaning against the door frame you watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest. You stifle a yawn and think of how not twelve hours ago you didn’t know what his skin felt like beneath your palms or what he’d be like to kiss or how perfectly your bodies seem to line up.

Tomorrow, or perhaps later tonight, you’ll have to report back to Baekhyun and your sister. Though you still have no idea what you’ll say when he asks if the two of you fell in love in one night, you know that, at the very least, it was the start of something. 

You leave Tao a note with instructions to sleep as long as he wants and a spare copy of your keys. He works his own shift tonight at Flanagan’s at two, his last one before he leaves on tour. Reassured that at least you’ll see him once more tonight at the party, before he’s gone for - well, you suppose you didn’t ask the specifics yet. You laugh at the thought and quietly shut the door and sprint down the steps to work. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s hardly after nine in the morning when Tao arrives. Far earlier than you were expecting, but you’ve learned that he likes to surprise you. When you see him standing in line you bite your lip, tilting your head and giving him a sleepy smile. 

‘A bit early for you, isn’t it?’ You ask, friendly and professional. ‘You look like you had a long night.’

He laughs, shaking his head and resting his palms on the counter. ‘I did indeed. But it’s been over two hours since I last saw you.’ 

‘Oh yeah? Is that a long time, then?’ you tease him. 

He whistles and leans in to whisper so only you can hear. ‘Far too long for someone in love.’ 

‘Love?’ The word thunders in your chest.

‘Maybe it’s too soon to know,’ he says, not backing up at all. ‘Maybe love is confirmed by time. But what I feel, whatever this is the start of, I’m greatly looking forward to.’

‘Are you sure you want to start this? You’re leaving, like, tomorrow.’ Suddenly in the light of day the reality of the situation makes your stomach flip.

He clutches his chest dramatically. ‘Don’t sound so sad, love. Please. You say that like I won’t come back.’ He reaches for your hand across the counter. ‘At least we'll have tonight. Tonight or forever, right?’ 

‘Exactly.’ Unable to resist you lift your hand to hold his cheek and kiss him. It was killing you not to and why not? He’s right. If it’s just one more night, you’re going to make it count.

You pull back and fill out his cup, insisting it’s your treat. Before he leaves you hold out the jar of poems. When he reads the line he laughs, holding it out to you.

“And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.”

― Pablo Neruda

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us   (Chapter 1: His Eyes)

Sometime before The Fall of Wall Maria

The hum of customers seemed louder that day. Normally four or five regulars were sitting in the corner, drinking coffee and sharing baguettes, but today, it seemed most of the tables were filled. Newspapers were being passed back and forth between people and if I cared much about the news, I might have taken myself away from kneading bread to glance at the pages. Just by hearing the customers, I filled myself in on the town gossip without having to be confronted by the old ladies trying to make me marry their sons. 

“I can’t get married right now, Miss. Schmidt. There’s too much to do with the shop that I have no time to give my attention to anyone else.” Those excuses and a smile seemed to hold them off for a few days. 

“Eva! Can we get a refill of coffee here?” I looked up to the three Garrison soldiers who were hiding away from their morning watch duties. At least they weren’t drinking whiskey. Nodding, I put the dough in the oven to prove and wiped my hands. Now, I would have to talk to some people. If it made them want to come to the café more, I guess I would sacrifice a little of my sanity. 

“Here you go,” I held up my hand as they tried to slide a few more coins my way, “You already have had three, this one is on the house.” The Captain looked up and smiled at me before putting them back in his pocket. The, too, had a newspaper laid out in the center of the table. 

“Have you heard about the Survey Corps recently, Eva?” I shook my head and he held up the paper. 

“Apparently they’ve gained some recruits worth our tax dollars! They didn’t lose half of their people on the last expedition. It’s front-page news for some reason.” One of the subordinates pointed at the portrait on the front page of what I assumed to be the new commander of the Scouts. Last week's news was the retirement of Keith Shadis and the promotion of various Corps peoples. Perhaps with the promotion also came the recent success. 

“I think anyone who goes out to fight titans on our behalf is worth my tax dollars. If I recall, soldiers only pay a fraction of our taxes. In fact, I’m paying for you to sit here in my café and drink away my coffee supply. It’s hard on me to travel to the capital markets every month.” I raised an eyebrow at them and it seems the pleasant conversation they wanted to have had ended, especially with the other customers listening in. They made it a point to stand up, leave the coins on the table, and walk out of the café. 

“Finally doing their job.” I picked up the untouched pitcher of coffee and wiped down the table. They didn’t even have the decency to put their cups in the dish bin. I rolled my eyes and cleaned up after them, going back to kneading more bread dough and warming up their coffee for the next customer. 

Maybe the success of the Scouts will make the Garrison and MPs care about the people inside the walls. You can only be self-serving for a little bit before it comes to bite you in the ass.

“Delivery!” Again, I’m distracted from my bread making. This is why I should have prepped last night. I wiped off my hands, noticing how dry they’d become, and turned to get what I assumed to be my portion of flour. 

“Hi Jonas, just put it on the table here.” 

“Eva, did you hear the news?” I poured him a cup of juice and handed it to him, nodding. 

“The Survey Corps?” He nodded hard and drank it all in one big gulp. 

“You should’ve seen it when the scouts came through the city a few days ago. I don’t think I’ve ever seen people cheer for them, but this time they did. Did you watch them come by?” I took his cup and put it in the sink before turning back to him. 

“No, I was stuck in here. I did see the tops of some of their heads though, but the crowd around the window was pretty thick.” I decided to lean against the front counter and take a break from baking to talk to Jonas, one of the only people my age who seemed to come around here and stay. If you were young in Trost, you were always working. They would come in and right out of the café, never staying to talk or look out the windows. I only know a few of their names, but all of their drink orders by heart. The only ones who seemed to talk a bit when they came in were, in fact, Scouts who got a few days off. No conversation ever really amounted to anything and I didn’t take time to memorize their orders as they would always stop coming a few weeks after they first arrived. 

“How is Reeve’s doing on orders? I heard that there might be a shortage of meat soon.” He shrugged at me and I signed his papers. 

“I don’t have a clue about that. I just go where they tell me to. I mean, I haven’t been delivering a lot of meat lately. You don’t need it though, do you?” 

“No, I just need flour, coffee, and sometimes tea. I go to the capital for the last two. If anything, I’d just stop being a bakery.” Jonas pouted and pointed to the croissants in the glass case. 

“I’d fight to get those if there was a shortage. You have the best bread in Trost!” I smiled and waved my hand. 

“No, I don’t, Jonas. I kn-” 

“Tea, please.” Jonas jumped and turned around to see the man behind him. His grey eyes bore holes into Jonas who was in his way. I’d seen him before, but it was his first time into the café. 

“C-Captain Levi!” Jonas even bowed to him, slightly shaking. I tilted my head, looking at the man, no taller than me. Why was this shorty making Jonas shake in his shoes? And Captain? He didn’t seem like the type to be in the Garrison. 

When I was done looking at his form, I looked back up to his eyes which seemed annoyed that he was having to wait for his tea. They were a pretty grey but were almost overshadowed by the dark circles under his eyes. I’d seen those type of eyes...tired from death, not from lack of sleep. He was definitely a Scout.

I stood up and wiped my hands again, slightly wincing at their dryness. 

“What type of tea, Cap’n?” He didn’t seem to be amused at my abbreviation of his title and I lost my customer-friendly smile. Guess I didn’t have to play pretend around his negative attitude. 

“Black.” I raised an eyebrow and looked at his form again. Tired, strained, busted, sad even… He needed something less… anxiety-inducing than straight black tea. He needed something soothing. 

“May I make a suggestion?” He looked up again having already put the money for plain black tea on the counter. I didn’t fail to notice how when he looked up, so did everyone else in the café. Was he radiating some form of intimidating energy to everyone in this place? He didn’t look scary, just tired and stressed. I guess the darkness of his features didn’t help his cause. 

“What?” Every answer was short and low. He did have an impressive voice for being short, but it also sounded like he had a scratchy throat. A mental note to add honey. 

“Mint?” He looked at me for a few seconds, probably deciding whether or not I could ruin his tea routine, “No extra cost. You just seem like you don’t need any more caffeine at the moment. Perhaps a few more hours of sleep.” The last sentence was mumbled, but I’m sure he had to hear it. Hopefully, he heard it and took me up on it. 

“Sure.” He waved his hand and walked over to the corner table where the Garrison was sitting, staring out the window. It seemed that he was far away enough for everyone to start gossiping about him. I stared at him for a few more seconds before taking out one of the few teacups I owned. No one wants to drink tea anymore… such old taste. 

“E-Eva? How did you talk to him like that?!” I glanced over at Jonas who was crouched over the counter and whispering to me. 

“What do you mean? Why is everyone so afraid of him? He’s no taller than me, Jonas.” 

“He’s Captain Levi! Humanity’s strongest soldier. It’s said that he’s killed over 100 titans by himself! And, and, and he just joined the Corps this past year. He used to be a…” He leaned in even more and put a hand in front of his mouth like that was going to help block out this secret, “a famous gangster in the underground.” I looked back at him again and met his eyes. He quickly looked away, but I did notice he was still staring at me from his peripheral. It was the way he was sitting that made it possible to spy on me unsuspectingly. 

“He does look a bit mean, but I don’t see danger...I think he just intimidates you and you don’t like it because he’s shorter than you.” Jonas was exasperated at my comment and looked back and forth between the Captain and me. 

“But he’s from the underground! You know how dangerous those people are! Kenny the Ripper and The Sniper… he’s one of them!” I rolled my eyes again and watched the tea as it brewed. 

“You forget I was born in the underground too, Jonas.” It was a low whisper to keep gossip down to a minimum and he shook his head fast, tapping on the counter. 

“But you’re different, Eva. You didn’t live there for very long either and you were adopted by Mister Flynn. I know he’s murdered like so many people.” I held the honey jar up, debating how much I should put in. He didn’t seem like the type of person who would like something overly sweet, but his throat sounded like it needed a bit more honey. 

“So, if I wasn’t adopted and you met me on the streets, would you be treating me like you’re treating him?” He groaned again and tried to grab my hand to get me to understand his point better. I moved my arm so he fell a bit farther on the counter. 

“I’m happy that someone who knows how to kill is now killing titans. You read the newspapers. What if he’s the reason the Scouts are doing better now?” I put the teacup on the tray along with a small bowl of honey. I couldn’t decide. 

Everyone in the café watched as I walked over to his table and put the tea down. 

“Peppermint tea. I don’t know how you like your tea so there’s some honey. You should put it in.” I pointed to the tiny bowl and he looked down at it too, grunting. I guess that was his way of saying thank you. 

Something made it so I didn’t move from standing in front of him. Maybe I was just curious why everyone was afraid to meet his eye or why they thought he was so intimidating. I mean, Jonas was shitting his pants talking about him and here I stood, not feeling anything like that. I was grateful, if anything, for his service in the Corps and just how many titans he’s rumored to have killed.

“Do you have a question?” It was harsh and it woke me out of the trance while looking at him. I had to recover quickly, or it’d be a bit embarrassing to just admit I was staring at him. He really… wasn’t so bad looking either. Just short. 

“I’m waiting for you to put the honey in your tea.” A good recovery with a hard tone behind it. Hopefully, he didn’t see through it. He groaned again, taking one spoonful and making a grand gesture about putting it into the tea and stirring. I smiled when he followed my fake orders, but it was funny. The titan serial killing maniac gangster had done something that I told him. I nodded once before walking away from his table, noticing, again, everyone's eyes. It was easier to face his grey ones than it was to look at all of theirs. Annoying. 

“Jonas, get off my counter! You’re making it dirty!” 

Orders and people kept flowing in as the hour passed by, but as it reached lunchtime, everything slowed down. No one would want pastries until later in the day for an after-work snack and coffee and tea had lost their use as everyone was now knees deep in work. The only people left in my café were three older women gossiping, two men playing chess, and the Captain himself. 

He was still in the same position, staring out the window, and he slowly sipped his tea as if he was savoring it. I noted that as a victory for my tea-making skills and also noticed that he had used up all the honey I had given him. Interesting. He did like his tea sweet. Maybe he is scary and I’m just not good at judging someone’s character.  

All there was left to do was keep the bread and pastries rotating in and out of the oven and tend to the customers who came every fifteen minutes or so. When I was on downtime, I would debate on whether to go talk to him again or just let him be. Maybe me talking to him would make him more tired and a waste of the peppermint tea I gave him. Just a bag of that tea costs a fortune in the capital, but I was now glad for my decision to buy it. 

Maybe he's sitting there, try to get me to notice him and go talk to him. I can feel it when he looks at me while my back is turned. Is that a call to come over? Has my wit and good looks made him interested in me? Or, my last hypothesis, he can’t read me like I can’t read him. He is a Scout, so maybe he’s surveying me as they do. I was definitely trying to study him behind the pastry glass.

Around one, almost four hours after he stepped foot into my café, he stood up and walked the teacup and plate to the counter next to me. The dish tray wasn’t empty, so he either hadn’t seen it, or my second hypothesis was right and he had finally gotten annoyed that I didn’t approach him. 

“I don’t know where this goes.” His voice was still as stiff as ever, but perhaps it sounded a bit less scratchy. Up close again, I got to study his features. He was handsome, but not your average Trost brown-hair-brown-eyes boy. His eyes told stories the longer you looked at them. Stories of titans and death and the underground. I wish I could stare at them for longer, but he lowered his head again, pushing the cup forward. I got to see his side profile from the other side and it was the same. He was perfect and symmetrical. Sharp jaw and nose hide under strands of raven hair. Everything about him was so… not dark, but I guess the right word would be intimidating or... hard. He just seemed to be hard. Nothing would break his shell, not even small talk, but damn, did I want to try. 

“I can take that for you, Captain.” He nodded and stood there as I put the dish in the sink. He was studying me like I had when I delivered the tea. I decided to use this against him. 

“Did you have a question?” He opened his mouth to say something, probably a quick remark, but it didn’t come out. I turned, smiling, looking at his stance. He still had a blank expression, hiding any emotion, but I knew deep down that my question affected him. 

“How much is that?” He pointed to the baguette in the glass display which conveniently already had the price marked. Humanity’s strongest wasn’t very perceptive if he missed two things. First, the dish tray, now the price tag. Jonas couldn’t have been right about him… it was just a mirage for people inside the walls. For someone to kill that many titans, they had to be some sort of killing machine. They needed him to fit the narrative and his past and facial expression helped him to mold into it seamlessly. The narrative I broke out of as a child. 

“For Humanity’s Strongest? Free. Thank you for fighting the titans, Captain.” Without a word, I put the bread in a paper wrap and handed it to him. I had hoped he would say something back so I could talk to him more, but like every Scout, he just turned to walk out of the doors and probably back to the outside of Trost. 

“How long till you don’t come back, Captain?” 

                                                                                                      Chapter Two →

Chapter Masterlist

[flightsoffandom]

Co-Conspirators Part 6

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Words: 9316

Summary: The BAU team takes notice of your day off and worries about you. You accidentally get the team a week off. Aaron helps get you to and from surgery.

Warnings: Talking and details about surgery. Group drinking. Friendly dating peer pressure from the BAU family.

Notes: Kinda just some slice-of-life nonsense with some decent banter thrown in there. Sorry, this took so long, a lot of stuff happened which I won't get into so I won't bore you all to death. Hopefully, everyone sees this as worth the wait, feel free to let me know either way. Thanks for being patient with me.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators –Part 1–Part 2–Part 3–Part 4–Part 5-Part 6*

You woke up in the morning to the smell of breakfast and the sound of Jack happily rambling about something. Letting yourself lay in bed for a moment so you could gain your bearings. You heard Jack talking about all the fun stuff you did with him yesterday. You smiled to yourself and quickly rolled out of bed. You immediately regretted it. Your head started to spin because you got up too fast. You wobble for a moment. When everything stops moving, that's when you start walking again. Checking the time, you see that Aaron had let you sleep in, and you both would need to go to work in about an hour. So you had to start getting ready. You grab some work clothes and towels before heading into the shower.

As soon as you got out of the shower, you started getting dressed and getting ready for work. With everything taken care of for a bit, the smell of breakfast hit you again. Your stomach growled, revealing just how hungry you were. You headed out to the kitchen. Jack was still happily rambling, and Aaron was attentively listening as he drank his coffee. You saw a plate sitting out on the table waiting for you. You hummed happily as you sat down. Jack looked at you with wide happy eyes, halting mid-sentence to address you, “[Y/N]!! Morning!!” Jack was so full of energy. You smile at him, “Good Morning to you too.” Jack looks at you, “I’m telling daddy about yesterday.” You lean over and quickly kiss Aaron on the cheek, “Thanks for making me food.” Aaron smiled and nodded. You look back over to Jack, “Feel free to continue telling him. I’m sure he wants to hear all about it.” Jack nods happily and starts talking again. You lazily eat as you listen to Jack go on.

You slept so well last night, and for so much longer than usual, you felt a tad groggy. That sluggish half-asleep feeling stayed with you as you continued to eat. Between being tired and how fast Jack was talking, you were only half able to keep up with the current topic. You started drinking coffee, hoping the caffeine would help get you back to normal. Luckily by the time you finished eating, you could feel your energy level rising slowly. Enough time had passed that it was time for everyone to get up from the table and rush around again. You take all the dishes and rinse them off before putting them in the dishwasher. Helping Jack and Aaron get everything together for school and work. When all three of you were set, you met at the door for a moment. You opened the door before giving Aaron a quick kiss. Jack bolted out the door excitedly, ready to start his day. You break the kiss, “See you at work.” Aaron offers a smile before nodding. Jack screeches to a halt, turning around and running back towards you and his father. Jack tackles your legs with a hug, “Bye [Y/N].” You chuckle and kneel, “Bye, buddy. Have a good day at school.” You return Jack’s hug, giving him a soft squeeze. When Jack lets go, the three of you split off separately on your different routines.

It had been a few weeks since the Monte incident. No one on the team had brought it up with you. But you knew everyone would take a mental note of your day off. While you all had a rule to ‘not profile each other’, it was also the team's biggest lie. Since you arrived earlier than everyone, it was easier to come back to work after taking a day off. Hotch showed up thirty minutes after you, and you both exchanged a smile before he strides into his office. Easily you were able to get back to work. However, as soon as the team started showing up, you knew that Hotch had told Rossi more about what happened than you thought. Which in turn meant Rossi, of course, had told the team about it. You appreciated their concern. You were just dreading what was about to happen.

One by one, each member of the team showed up for work that day. As soon as the elevator door opened, their eyes were on you. You did your best to ignore it, but it was hard when you could see in your peripheral vision that they were trying to ‘casually’ group together in the kitchen. When you finally couldn't take it anymore, you turned in your chair to look at them. You clear your throat very loudly to make sure you get all of their attention, “You guys having an interesting conversation?” All five of them go wide-eyed and stare at you for a moment. Emily is the first to speak, “I tried to tell them we shouldn’t talk behind your back.” Penelope scoffs loudly, glaring at Emily. Derek quickly steps in, “Hey now, it was all of our ideas.” Derek takes a few steps toward you, “We are worried about you.” You glared at everyone, “I appreciate the thought, but there is no need for it.” You decide to add, ”Am I not allowed to take a day off of work just cause?” Spencer quickly states, “One thousand four.” You give him a confused look. Spencer quickly noticed your confusion and went on to elaborate, “You've worked at the BAU for approximately one thousand and four days. Yesterday was the first day you took a voluntary day off.” You were taken aback and even scoff, “That doesn't sound right.”

You knew they meant well. Maybe you were getting a bit defensive, but all five of them confronting you about taking one day off seemed a bit dramatic on their part. You sigh and smile at them, “Thank you for caring so much. I appreciate it. I do.” You grab some paperwork off your desk, “I love you all…” You pause for dramatic effect, “Even though you each can be obnoxiously caring at times.” You chuckle to yourself as you get some groans and eye-rolls from the team. JJ gives you a matter-of-fact look, “That’s what family is for.” Everyone, including yourself, nods in agreement. You stand up, getting ready to go file away your paperwork. The group starts breaking off and going back to work. Derek gives you a loving clap on the back as he walks by. You make sure to tussle Spencer's hair as he passes you. After a few minutes, the only person left is Penelope, who had one hand behind her back. She speaks up, “I know you said you're fine and that it's not a big deal… but it is kind of a big deal. It was icky…” Penelope's whole body shivers. She makes a disgusted noise before finding her train of thought again, “So so icky. I mean with the…” She motions to your scar, “And then him…” Penelope makes slow stabbing motions with her hand towards her own side. If anyone else had brought this up, you might have been mad, but with Penelope, it was always hard to be genuinely mad at her about anything. You chuckle and then correct her, “Monte didn't stab himself. A real stickler for the details, he managed to get a hold of a gun.” You mime a gun with your hand before pointing it at your side. Penelope almost gasps. In one motion, she pulls the hand from behind her back and thrusts a box of treats at you, “I know you don't want me to make a fuss… and I’m totally not… I just happened to make like two dozen too many… And they coincidentally are your favorite.” You let out a happy sigh and hug Penelope. She hugs you back, “Hugs, these are what I’m good at.” You laugh and squeeze her. You may not have been big on hugging, but Penelope was the best hugger. So you waited until she was ready to pull away first. She hands the box to you again. You take the container and open the lid, inhaling the delicious scent, “Thank you. You're the best.” Penelope scoffs as she turns around, “Yes. Yes, I am.” You chuckle and get back to work.

Luckily today was more of a paperwork kind of day, so everything was on the relaxed side of things. You were able to text Aaron a few times, though he was busy tackling the mountain of paperwork that always lingered on his desk. Partway through the day, when you all are working on your own, your attention gets pulled to someone walking into the BAU. You would recognize that stern, authoritative walk anywhere, Strauss. She was on a mission, and it didn't seem to be a happy one.

When you see Strauss heading up to see Hotch, you know it's probably worse than you thought. Strauss even looked over at you before entering Hotch’s office and closing the door behind her. You lean back in your chair, “Shit.” The rest of the team had also noticed Strauss. Once you finish having a mini burst of anxiety, you join the team in trying to watch your two bosses talk through Hotch’s window casually. You bite the inside of your check and watch for a minute or two. There was a chance that she was only here for something boring and routine. But when you saw Hotch’s body language turn defensive, you knew this wasn't good.

You slightly get up from your chair, “Prentiss? Reid? Either of you able to lip-read their conversation?” Both Emily and Spencer give a half-hearted nod as their eyes don't look away from the situation. Emily speaks up first, “It’s about you…” Derek looks over at you from his desk, “Why would they be having a conversation like that without you.” You sigh, “Hotch wasn't thrilled after we were dragged in for that interview with Monte.” Derek nods very matter-of-factly, “Bossman never likes anyone messing with his agents.” Derek looks back up to the office. This time JJ looks over to you, “But Strauss already knows Hotch didn’t like the situation, so what is THIS conversation about?” You're about to respond, but Spencer beats you to it, “Hotch refused anymore visits with Monte.”

Derek intakes a sharp breath through his teeth, “Strauss never likes it when Hotch goes over her head…” You sigh and push your face into the palm of your hand, “Great… now Strauss is gonna have more reasons to hate me.” ‘Hate’ May have been a strong word, but Strauss, at the very least, disliked you quite a bit. It was primarily because of the whole issue with your verbal filter and not particularly caring about the chain of command if it came down to doing the right thing. Strauss was probably going to see it as a fault on your part. She might even think your ability to do your job was affected. Prentiss speaking drew your face out of your hand, “I think she said something about ‘time off’, but I didn't catch the whole context.” You furrow your eyebrows together and look back up at Hotch’s office window. It looked as though the conversation was wrapping up. Everyone else took this as a queue to sit back at their desks. You, however, wanted to be stubborn and choose to stay standing. Strauss finally stepped out of the office, leaving the door open behind her. With a scowl on her face, she made eye contact with you, but you made sure to defiantly hold her gaze the whole time until she was out of sight.

With Strauss gone, you started to weave around the desks to get to Hotch’s office. Before you could even make it to the bottom of the small flight of stairs, Hotch was in the doorway about to call you in. Hotch looked annoyed, but there was something under that. You almost thought it looked like excitement, but that didn’t make sense at the moment. He motioned for you to come into the room with him, confirming it was indeed you that both your bosses had just been talking about, “[Your Last Name].” You give a curt nod and walk through the door, going and closing the blinds. You probably wouldn’t have, but you did just have a refresher on how well your coworkers could read lips. You didn't feel like letting them read yours at the moment. Hotch closed the door behind you and made his way back over to his desk. You casually slid into the chair in front of him, “How mad is she?”

Hotch sighs, “Pretty pissed, to be honest, but nothing that won't blow over once all the official reports and requests make it to her desk.” You nod softly, putting your elbow on the arm of the chair and resting your chin in your hand, “What else did she talk about?” Hotch sighs and leans back in his chair, watching you, “Good or bad part first?” You scrunch up your face a bit, even shooting a glare at Hotch, “Bad first…” You stretch out the word, unsure if that's really what you wanted. Hotch makes a face, already knowing you wouldn't be happy with his reply, “You have to undergo another psych eval.” Your glare intensifies, and your groan, “I already went through one right after the whole Monte thing… They cleared me.” Your voice came out a bit whiny, but you couldn't help it. It had only been maybe two weeks since your last evaluation, so taking another one seems pointless. Hotch nods, “I told her that, but she seems to think you needing to take an impromptu day off is cause for concern. I tried to explain it wasn't, but…” You grumble and nod slowly. You weren't happy at all, but Hotch would just get into trouble if you didn't listen. So you wouldn't fight it, just deciding to suck it up and deal with it.

You let out a half-hearted huff, “I’ll do it… if only to keep Strauss off your ass.” Hotch smiles at you, “Thank you.” He sits up and puts his hands together on top of his desk, “Now for the good news.” Hotch almost looked like he was up to something, so you narrowed your eyes at him and waited for him to speak, “The whole team gets a week off.” You straighten up quickly, excited, “Really? I knew I asked you to figure something out. I didn't really expect it to work out.” Hotch takes mock offense, “Hey!” You chuckle and roll your eyes, “You know it's our job I don’t trust for days off, not you.” Hotch smiles and nods, “I know.” Your excitement was temporarily suspended when you came to a realization.

You look at Hotch suspiciously, “Why was that in the same conversation as the rest of that stuff…” Hotch’s face turns slightly guilty, “I may have countered that if Strauss is so concerned about one of my team’s mental wellbeing, then maybe she should make sure the whole team had some time to rest.” You glare at him, “You used me taking a day off as an excuse.” Hotch’s face quickly started to look concerned that you were mad at him. You think about it for a minute and then laugh, “Honestly, there are worse ways to earn some time off. I’ll take it.” Hotch looked relieved as he relaxed back into his chair, “I was hoping you’d be okay with that.” You think for a moment before asking, “What week?” Hotch frowns again, and you knew what he was about to say. You close your eyes and let out a soft sigh. You weren't mad. You understood the position Hotch was in and why it had to be added to the report.

When you told him you would call your doctor, you actually did. You even surprised yourself with actually following through with it. Half the time, your philosophy was that it wasn't a problem if you didn’t think about it. With how worried Aaron was, your stubbornness had quickly yielded. You had set up an appointment to have your scar fixed. It would either be removed or corrected depending on the doctor's official examination on the surgery date, which was about two weeks away. You had told Hotch, of course, mainly as your boyfriend, but you knew as your boss it was an essential piece of information that had to be added to the reports and your psychological evaluation. You didn’t plan to tell the team about it, but with it being in official paperwork somewhere, maybe you should. So with that information in play, you knew the answer to your own question just by the look on Hotch’s face. Strauss used that date as the starting point for the whole week off for the team.

You apparently had been silent for longer than you thought because you felt Hotch’s eyes on you as he spoke, “You know I had to put it into the report…” With a soft smile, you open your eyes, “I know. I’m not upset about it. It will give me the proper time to heal out of the field.” Hotch narrows his eyes at you, “I wouldn't have been letting you into the field that week anyway.” You laugh and scoff, “Like you could have really stopped me.” Hotch gets his stern boss face on, “It would have been an order. One that I would have to write you up for disobeying.” Though Hotch was making sure, you knew the rules, even with him being your boyfriend. He was very serious, and you couldn't help but smirk. Hotch glares at you, deeply setting a stern look onto his face. You grin at him, “And I would have put it in the special folder in my desk, with all the other write-ups you have given me.” Hotch’s sternness seems to be cracking, so you decided to add, “You have to admit, that's pretty much how we flirted before either of us knew it was flirting.” You could see the furrow in Hotch’s brow relaxing. You give him an innocent look, “You’d write me up. I’d be in trouble for a little bit, but after a week or so, it was like it never happened.” Hotch finally cracked and started chuckling. He plants his face into the palm of his hand, “Are there really a whole folder worth?” You laugh and nod, “Mhm.” His chuckle dies down, and he rolls his eyes as he sits back up, “I could fire you for all of those.” Hotch closes his eyes, and you can tell he is contemplating whether he actually needs to worry about this and its effect on his job in general. You want to interrupt his overthinking, so you laugh, “If it makes you feel better, it's not favoritism. You're this soft with the rest of the team being in trouble too. I just tend to get into trouble a tad bit more. I am the only one who saves them.” This seems to work for the time being. Hotch just opens his eyes with a halfhearted groan as he watches you. You stand up and walk around to his side of the desk.

Usually, you would have been more careful at work, but the blinds were closed. So was the door. You smirk at Hotch and shrug, “You’ll just have to make it up to me somehow.” He watches you and smirks back, “Is that so?” You give him a few small nods before leaning down and kissing him. Hotch kisses you back, even going as far as to grab your hips and pulls you down to him. You chuckle into the kiss as you end up half straddling him. You were a bit surprised that Hotch was the one who progressed the interaction further because he was the one always scolding you about sneaking around at work. Breaking the kiss slowly with a few small pecks. You only pull back a few inches away before whispering, “There are rules about this. We could get caught.” You mimic the stern tone he normally uses. Hotch rolls his eyes, even smirking as he groans at you, “I do not sound like that.” You grin at him, “You totally do. That was a perfect impersonation of you.” This earns you another eye roll from Hotch, followed by a chuckle. You kiss him one last time before starting to pull away.

Hotch’s hold on your hips tightens, trying to keep you in place. You playfully huff, “You're supposed to be the responsible one, remember?” Hotch has an extremely ornery look on his face. You feel yourself wanting to cave in. You have to physically shake your head to clear your thoughts, “If I thought we could get away with it right now. I would jump your bones.” This causes Hotch’s hands to tighten on you, “ And why wouldn't we get away with it?” Your willpower was wavering, but you knew right now this would get you caught, “Because the whole team is currently watching your office like a hawk trying to figure out what is going on.” Hotch lets out an annoyed growl. You lean down, giving him one last kiss before officially pulling away. Hotch lets go of you this time, just watching you as he leans back in his chair. You start readjusting your appearance, so it doesn't look like you were just making out with someone as you add, “If they so much as see a shadow of us fooling around, we are screwed and not in the fun way we want.” Hotch laughs and shakes his head at your joke. He starts fixing his composure as well. You offer Hotch one last smile before leaving his office.

While walking down the stairs, you look to your coworkers, “Guess who’s emotionally traumatizing situation earned us all a week off. I will be accepting ‘thank you’s’ in the form of treats or drinks the next time we go to a bar together.” Sure the event had taken a mental toll on you. It was serious but making light of the whole situation was how you would cope with it. Plus, all things considered, everyone on the team could use some time off. It had been a while. They needed it. So you were more than happy being the one who was the ‘excuse’ to get it for them. If their attention wasn’t already on you leaving Hotch’s office, it was now after that announcement.

Morgan and Prentiss are the first two to officially perk up. Prentiss tilts her head, “Was that the ‘time off’ that Strauss was talking about with Hotch.” You give a quick nod before adding, “Apparently, Strauss is worried that me taking a day off might mean I’m becoming mentally unstable or something.” You shrug, not exactly sure of her logic behind it. Morgan walks up to you, “Well, we all knew you were mentally unstable…” He playfully jabs as he claps you on the back. “And that was before the whole incident.” You roll your eyes, “Har… har… you're so funny. We can all see how hard you're trying to show you have both brawn and brains.” You tease Morgan back, he glares down at you, and you stick your tongue out at him in response. This causes Morgan to laugh loudly, “Just remember I can beat you up.” You nod your head in agreement, “I never said you couldn't.”

Prentiss slides over, “So what party plans do we have set up?” You look at her a bit confused, “We all literally just found out about getting a week off. How could we already have plans?” Prentiss and Morgan both scoff. Prentiss shakes her head at you, “We always have parties and fun times planned.” Morgan nods to back her up. It made sense that it was those two who would always have plans and be down to party. You sigh and roll your eyes, “Well, I, for one, am just glad for getting a week off in general.” Morgan and Prentiss were busy making plans, and you think even JJ walked away to call Will and tell him. But that left Reid, who you could feel watching you.

You whip around quickly, “May I help you, good doctor?” Reid studies you carefully, and you settle on staring right back at him until he answers. Reid finally speaks up, “First, you take a day off willingly. How you're excited about getting a week off… It’s very odd.” You walk up to Reid’s desk, “Don’t profile me. Not about this, at least. I just think a week off sounds nice for once.” Reid watches you, “You once complained for a whole plane ride because we were forced to take a week off.” You scoff, “You're exaggerating again.” Reid opens his mouth. You know that look on his face. He was about to regurgitate everything that you said during that plane ride, word for word. You make the gesture of covering his mouth without physically doing so, wanting to still respect his thing with germs.

Spencer takes the hint and doesn't say anything. You sigh, “Okay, I get it. It’s strange… but people are conundrums, myself included.” You hoped that would be the end of it, but Spencer just watches you again. You tilt your head curiously, “Yes?” Spencer looks at you, “A…” Spencer clears his throat and speaks quieter, “Are you okay?” You thought about lying, but just like Penelope, Spencer fell into a category of slightly softer team members. So you decide to answer him truthfully for the most part. You smile softly and give his hair a light tussle, “I am about as fine as one could be… given the situation.”

Spencer takes a moment before accepting this answer. You sigh and add, “I’m getting corrective surgery, and it just happened to line up with the days off that Strauss gave us. So that's why I am okay with this time off.” It wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough of the truth that you weren't technically lying. You could see Spencer’s brain working already. He speaks up, “Do you know what kind of procedure they will be performing? If it's the injections depending on the substance used, there have been adverse effects reported in about 63% to 75% of patients.” While you found the information interesting, you got worried about knowing the statistics for this kind of stuff. You could feel some of the anxiety starting already, but you didn’t want to interrupt Spencer. You weren't in a rush. He was constantly being interrupted by time constraints or by people who didn't want to listen at the time. So you were preparing yourself for any additional anxiety-inducing facts Spencer was about to tell you. He wasn't so wrapped up in his information dump yet that he actually noticed the change in your body language. Spencer immediately stops speaking and gives you a slight nod. He follows up with a soft smile, “If you need to talk to anyone…” He pauses. You were extremely grateful that Spencer refrained from continuing. Your mind was already giving you enough trouble about the whole situation without additional facts. Giving Spencer a thankful smile before you chuckle, finishing his sentence for him, “And I’ll kick down your door and come bother you with my problems.” Spencer's smile widens, and he nods at you. You give him one last hair tussle before walking away.

The rest of the day passes by fairly quickly. With you and the rest of the team making some semi-solid plans to have a party at Rossi’s during the week off. You couldn't help but nibble at the snack Penelope made for you. You wanted to talk about the week off with Hotch some more, but you had to wait until everyone left. You tried not to look too suspicious as you kept track of everyone as they started going for the day. You waited until you were 100% sure that no one else was left in the office, and you quickly trot up the stairs. Bursting into Hotch’s office without even knocking. He doesn’t even seem surprised. He was used to you entering like this. You dramatically flop down in the chair across from him, “What are we going to do during our days off? I wanna do something fun.” Hotch looks up at you from his papers, “You will be recovering from surgery. So we’ll be taking it easy.” You huff loudly, “But… We could do something fun instead of being boring.” Hotch just glares at you, staying firm on his point. You sigh and pull your own paperwork on top of his desk. You give one last attempt, “Aaron…” You make sure to pout overdramatically and stare him down. Hotch starts chuckling, “I think you picked the wrong partner if you wanted a ‘fun relationship’” You roll your eyes, “You’re plenty fun… most of the time… when your not making me follow stupid rules.” Hotch groans, “You could literally split something open if you overexert yourself.”

You scoff, “That’s if they do the thing with the cutting and stuff. It’s an outpatient procedure. I’ll be fine going right back to normal activity.” Hotch glares at you, “I overheard the phone call the other day. It could be outpatient, or you might have to stay for a few days. Either way, I’ll have to drive you home, or they legally will not let you leave the building.” You sigh and get a bit more serious, “That’s true… I didn’t put your name on the official paperwork, but you can still pick me up, right?” Hotch narrows his eyes at you, “...Yes.” You roll your eyes, “I’m not doing anything sneaky… I just worry about how good Penelope is… If we wanna keep this little affair a secret, then you gotta make sure the team doesn't have any way of finding out.” Hotch shakes his head at you, holding back a chuckle, “Don’t call it an affair… It makes it sound so much worse than it is.” You smile at him, “Fine, dating.” Hotch finally lets himself chuck as he nods, “Thank you.” You both go back to doing paperwork until you both eventually get too tired, and you end up going back to Hotch’s apartment with him.

You had only asked Aaron to pick you up from your minor surgery, but he insisted on driving you there as well. Part of you wondered if he thought you were going to chicken out and end up not going. You thought he was being a bit dramatic by driving you there, but as soon as you sat in the car's passenger side, you were glad that he was the one driving. Your hands were shaking, and you only noticed because you had looked down at your lap. You balled your hands into fists in order to stop it. You didn't understand why you were so nervous. It was just a simple procedure. You didn't even feel like it was that big of a deal. Aaron looked over at you while he drove, “Are you alright?” You scoff and nod dramatically, “Of Course. Why wouldn’t I be?” That little bit of attitude earned you a glare from Aaron. Which makes you feel a bit guilty, so you correct your reply with a sigh, “I’ll be fine… Just ready for it to be over.” Aaron doesn’t say anything. He just reached one hand over and held one of your still balled-up fists. You smile softly and start to feel yourself relax.

It was a quick drive to the surgery center. With an easy enough check-in, you and Aaron went to find a seat. The problem was waiting to be called back. All the sitting still and waiting put you on edge. You couldn't help but bounce your leg. Aaron placed his hand on your knee in an attempt to calm your nerves. It didn’t help that you still weren't sure why you were this nervous. You had surgeries before, so that wasn't the issue. After your most recent psychological evaluation, you understood how much the Monte situation affected you, but at the same time, it still didn't make sense to you.

The only thing that pulled you out of your own head was Aaron gently squeezing your knee. You give him a curious look. Seeing the scowl on Aaron’s face confuses you further, but then you hear the reason. A nurse calls out again, “[Y/N]?” They pause before looking at the chart in their hands. Between the nurse’s tone and Aaron’s scowl, you could tell that wasn't the first time the nurse had called for you. The nurse adds your last name in an attempt to clear up any shared name confusion, “[Y/N] [Y/L/N]?” You stand up quickly, “I’m here, sorry.” You make your way to the nurse. About to apologize again for your delayed response, you're stopped by Aaron speaking up right behind you, “One second, please.” He addressed the nurse. You turned around to look at him, confused. Aaron looked worried, “Do I need to go back with you?” You scrunch your face up at him, “I’m not a child.” Aaron sighs, “I never said you were.” He still looked worried. It's not like you hadn't seen each other in compromising situations before, so that wasn't the problem. It was just the thought of Aaron going back with you both comforted you and made you nervous at the same time. You quickly think about it, not wanting to take up more of the nurse’s time. You offer Aaron a smile, “I think I’ll be fine. Just be here when I get done.” His worried look on his face softens but doesn't go entirely away as he nods, “Of course.” You give him a quick kiss before finally going back with the nurse.

The nurse takes you back into the exam room. You have to take off your shirt so they can do a quick look over it before the actual surgeon gets in. Your odd nerves linger even after the nurse leaves. Luckily the surgeon doesn't take long to come into the room. Considering you don't care about scars in general, the conversation is relatively quick before deciding how to proceed. You just wanted the spot changed. You didn't so much care about how the scar looked after, as long as it no longer reminded you of that incident. The surgeon decides that the best course of action is to basically cut out your scar and pull the skin back together to make a straight scar instead of the more prominent, more bullet-shaped scar you have now. You readily agree to the surgery, and off you went. They put the anesthesia mask on you in the surgery room, and you were out like a light.

The next thing you remember is waking up slowly. Everything was so bright, and you had to cover your eyes a bit. You started groggily waking up. You were expecting to be alone or at least only with medical staff, but you heard a very familiar noise. The extremely annoyed but trying to hide it, noise Aaron made. While Aaron was annoyed most of the time at work and made all sorts of noises. You didn't even have to look over at him to know what he was doing. Aaron was reading a newspaper and groaning to himself about the errors. Inaccuracies in the crime section of the newspaper, to be exact. You couldn't help but chuckle as you turned to look at him. Which came out as a weird noise between the grogginess and your dry throat. Aaron immediately closes the paper, completely forgetting about whatever it was he was annoyed about mere seconds ago. He looks worried again, moving to the edge of his chair to be ready to help if need be, “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” A large smile spreads across your face, “It aggravates you every time you try to read those. So why do you keep doing it?” Aaron takes your first sentence as a sign that you're doing just fine. He smiles at you and rolls his eyes, “I have to stay on top of cases.” You chuckle again and start moving a bit, wincing when you move your side just right. The pain was tolerable, which was a good thing. You begin sitting up, “I thought you said you would be in the waiting room.” Aaron sits back in his chair and gives you an ornery look, “Well, you said you didn’t want me back there for the exam, but nothing about coming back here while you were recovering.” You let out a playful groan and roll your eyes, “I’ll allow it just this once.” You tease and decide to look at your side. It was bandaged up, so there wasn't much to see. You try to start trying to peel up a corner of the bandage, trying to see something. Aaron quickly speaks up, “They said to leave it alone.” You shoot him a quick glare, “I am leaving it alone. I just want to look at it.” You knew you needed to be careful, and you probably would have listened. However, part of you was nervous it wasn't going to look different enough, so you persisted. Aaron must have seen the worry on your face because he let you continue. You gingerly pull up the bandage until you can see your stitches. Your previous scar was now almost perfectly straight. It looked nothing like it did before. You let out a sigh of relief, deciding now you can relax and leave it alone. Aaron watches you, “Better?” You hum softly, “Much better.” He reaches over and lets his hand find yours. You return the gesture but start trying to work your way out of the medical bed.

Aaron glares at you, “You need to wait until the doctor takes a look at you.” You scoff, “We both know I’m definitely not going to just sit around and wait.” He narrows his eyes at you. To which you just smile innocently before continuing to stubbornly stand off the bed. Aaron halfheartedly groans and caves, helping you. He lets you use one of his arms for balance while he hands you your clothes with his other hand. You chuckle as you start steadily pulling on your underwear, “You gave up really easily.” Aaron shakes his head, but you can hear the smile in his voice, “I’m picking my battles.” Next, you pull on your pants, having to sit on the edge of the bed to get them all the way up your legs. Aaron helps you when need be, so you don't hurt yourself. You smile as you start sliding out of the medical gown, “I’m lucky to have such a sweet boyfriend to take care of me while I heal.” Aaron chuckles and teases you, “Very lucky” You use Aaron’s shirt to pull him down closer to you and kiss him. He gently kisses you back before helping you get your shirt on. Aaron makes sure you don’t overexert yourself, “Once the doctor clears you, we can go home.” You hum and sit back down on the bed, ready to wait.

It was the night of Rossi’s party. You had been healing well, and besides being a little slower than usual, you were functioning pretty well. Penelope agreed to drive you to Rossi’s, even though Aaron had to drop you off at your own apartment. Keeping your relationship a secret could be tiring, but it was worth it. Penelope picked you up and talked about how much fun the party tonight would be and how she was only going to drink a ‘reasonable’ amount tonight and not get too crazy. You didn't really believe her, and you're sure she would be staying the night at Rossi’s. You'd have to get a ride home with someone else. Hopefully, you could sneak home with Aaron without anyone noticing. Normally you would be drinking with everyone, but you were supposed to wait until a few weeks after surgery before having alcohol again. Since you haven't told anyone but Spencer about your surgery, hopefully, you'll be able to hide your lack of drinking tonight as well. You did bring a bottle of alcohol as a gift for everyone and as a potential distraction from the fact you weren't actually drinking.

When Penelope pulled up, and you both got out of the car. You could see that a few people were already there. You saw Aaron’s car and JJ’s, but Derek’s car was missing. He was probably running late so he could pick up Emily and Spencer. You let Penelope lead the way. She knocked a cheerful tune on the door. A moment later, Rossi answers the door, “Benvenuti!” Penelope tackles Rossi with a hug, “Hello!” Penelope just as quickly let's go and trots happily into the house. Rossi looks to you, and you chuckle, “Don’t expect me to hug you.” Rossi laughs and motions for you to come in, “Wouldn't dream of it.” You offer him the bottle, which he happily accepts. You nod to him before slipping into his house and joining the others. Penelope already has a fruity-looking drink in her hand with a colorful reusable umbrella in it, which she must have brought from home, or Rossi could have had them stashed away somewhere.

As you were looking around the room, you did everything in your power not to linger on Aaron too long. Everyone was far too sober for you to start slipping up already. You head over to the bar and make sure to mess with the right combination of bottles and containers before pouring yourself a non-alcoholic beverage. Penelope was already messing with whatever music Rossi had on with the help of JJ. Rossi scoffed loudly enough you all could hear him from the entryway, “That was a classic.” Without hesitation, Penelope retorts, “Classically boring.” Penelope was only satisfied when she found something that she could sing and dance to. Penelope was already thoroughly enjoying herself like she always did. You knew JJ would join in soon like always. You were waiting to have two or three ‘drinks’ because that's what it usually took to get you out on the dance floor with everyone else.

Moments later, you hear Derek barge into the area everyone was gathered in, “Sorry we are running late, pretty boy was fixing his hair or something.” Derek chuckles, and Spencer automatically glares at Derek, “Actually, it was because you refused to listen to the directions I gave you and got stuck in traffic just like I said you would.” Derek wipes around, “That's not at all what happened… right, Prentiss?” Emily just shakes her head and dodges around both men who stopped in front of her, “I just came here to have fun with my friends. Not get dragged into your bickering.” You chuckle as both Derek and Spencer now turn their halfhearted glares to Emily. The play fight is quickly interrupted by Derek noticing Penelope already dancing. Derek fakes offense, “Baby girl, you started without me?” Penelope doesn't stop dancing for even a second, “Beauty waits for no one.” Penelope giggled before adding, “Just think of it as me keeping the dance floor warmed up for you.” Derek grabs himself a drink before joining Penelope, “Well, I am truly sorry for making you wait.” Emily shortly joins the group, using JJ as her main dancing partner. Rossi had joined Aaron off to the side. Which left you and Spencer off in your own group.

Spencer had water in his hand and glanced at the drink in yours, “You shouldn't be drinking for the next two weeks.” The party was already loud enough it was easy for the two of you to have a private conversation of sorts. You chuckle, “The doctor said a week to two weeks, your rounding up. And shh…” You bring your finger to your lips as you shush him. Spencer gets very serious, “I can list off all the statistics-” You laugh and playfully roll your eyes, “You’re a great friend Reid, but I meant shush, I’m faking it.” Spencer softens up, “Ohh, good.” You were about to say something else to Spencer, but the song changes to something slow, and Penelope and Derek catch your attention. They are both partially grinding against each other. As soon as the slow song ends, you shout at them both, ”Get a room.” You immediately regret it as Penelope glares right at you and stares you down. She starts heading towards you with a determined look on her face. You sigh and chuckle, “Shit.” You automatically grab Spencer’s wrist, knowing that if Penelope was going to drag you onto the dance floor, you were taking Spencer down with you. Reid protests, “I can’t dance.” You shake your head, “Neither can I, but we are all going to look like idiots together." Spencer doesn't fight anymore, and soon enough, Penelope grabs you by the hem of your shirt and pulls you into the group to dance with Spencer trailing behind you.

It was always a good time with the team, not worrying about anything. You were having a lot of fun, but it was hard not to over-exert yourself, especially when Penelope was almost always at max energy level. You manage not to hurt yourself too badly, but you knew you would need a break soon. Luckily you found your chance when everyone who was dancing and drinking got too hot and decided to move the party outside where it was nice and cool. You stayed out there just long enough before downing your drink and using your empty glass as an excuse to break away from the group and take a short break. You stood at the mini-bar inside, which was luckily entirely out of view of anyone else, so you didn't have to fake what you were doing. You got yourself some more water and sat down on a bar stool for a minute. Suddenly you hear Aaron’s voice, “Are you alright?” You jump a little and then wince a bit before slowly rotating your seat around. You smile, “I’m fine.” Aaron furrows his brow, “Are you sure you did pop some stitches or anything?” You tilt your head and smile, “If I did, everyone would have noticed.” You motion down to your grey shirt, the bandages themselves were not visible, but blood would have very easily stained the fabric. He was worried, which was cute. Aaron narrows his eyes at you before suddenly leaning down and kissing you. You kiss him back for a bit, glad that no one else was around. You break the kiss first and chuckle, “Aaron… we are at a work party.” You playfully scold him. Aaron rolls his eyes but then smirks, “You kissed me at the last work party we all went to. So I think it's about time I paid you back for that.” You laugh and shrug, “Fair enough.” You offer him a playful look, “Think we could get away with more than a kiss? I mean, Rossi has more than enough extra rooms.” Aaron gives you another soft kiss before shaking his head, “Not with your stitches still in, and if we are both gone much longer, Spencer will notice.” You nod, chuckling as you slowly stand up, “True, harder to sneak around when not everyone is inebriated.” Aaron nods and follows you with his eyes as you start walking away, “Be careful.” You turn and smile at him, “Of course, Sir.” This earns you a glare with no real annoyance behind it as you smile back before leaving to go back outside to the party.

You could already feel yourself getting tired, and you just knew you would only really want to stay for a few more hours, so you don't overdo it. When you get back to the group, you walk in on the middle of a conversation. Emily comments, “I have Sergio. That is more than enough for me.” Penelope whines, “But come onnnnn… I have a friend who would be perfect for you.” Emily stands her ground and shakes her head, “Nope. No way.” You walked up just in time for Penelope to turn her efforts right at you, “What about you? I know this guy, and he would be perfect for you.” You laugh, “You literally just said the same thing about Emily. Penelope pouts, “All my friends are perfect in their own way, and all of my friends would be perfect for each other.” You shake your head, “I’m going to pass as well, thanks, though.” Penelope gets a drunkenly stern look on her face, “Just one date… when is the last time you went out with someone who isn't us?” You try to ignore the question, but the discussion about your love life gets Derek’s attention. He chimes in, “Yeah… The last time we heard you even going out with someone was like two years ago.” You glare at Derek, “And?” Derek narrowed his eyes at you. He wasn't quite drunk, but he was at least buzzed, so you weren't too worried as he stared you down, “Are you secretly dating someone then? Why wouldn't you want to go out with someone as cool as Penelope's friend.” You can't help but laugh, “Do you know the person too then?” Derek shakes his head, “Nah… but like the baby girl said, all her friends are cool.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. Emily decides to chime in as well, “I know some people you might like.” You facepalm as you laugh.

You know it was them drunkenly trying to help you out, so you weren't mad, but you didn't expect this. You lift your head back up, “That's it, you all are too interested in my love life. I am going to become a nun or something.” Apparently, it was time for almost everyone else to start picking on you as well. JJ chuckles, “You swear like a sailor.” You scoff, but before you can defend yourself, Spencer adds, “You're also too aggressive.” You glare at Spencer, which honestly just kind of proves his point. Emily smiles and shrugs, “You like the danger too much, just like me.” Derek grins, “You like your job way too much to ever leave us.” You chuckle and shake your head. Penelope finishes up by adding, “More importantly, you love us wayyyy too much to ever ever leave us, right?” Penelope looks at you with big, borderline tearful eyes. She clearly had too much to drink because, with the look on her face, you could have sworn you just told her you were quitting or something. You nod and give Penelope a loving pat on the head, “I love you all, and I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon.” This cheers Penelope up right away and tackles you in a hug. It takes every ounce of your self-control not to wince as you hugged her back. Luckily since Spencer knew your secret, he quickly helped you out. Spencer almost shouted out, “I thought this was supposed to be a party.” Penelope very quickly lets go of you and collects herself. Before immediately getting distracted by a song that starts playing and dragging you all back into dancing with her. You have just enough time to mouth a ‘Thank you’ to Spencer before you all get pulled away.

After a few more hours, everyone else starts to break off, getting too tired to continue. JJ is the first to go so she could get back to Will and Henry. Next is Penelope, who passes out right on the couch in the living room. Which is unsurprising when she partied this hard. You were pretty sure Emily and Derek would be up all night challenging each other to stupid things. Rossi was utterly unaffected by whatever alcohol he had consumed. Rossi also seemed unphased by whatever mess was now scattered around his house. Spencer was very ready to go home and relax. Since Derek was currently busy having a shot contest with Emily, Spencer didn't have a ride. Luckily Aaron hadn’t drank that much so he was safe to drive. Spencer asked Aaron first, “Hotch, Would you mind giving me a ride?” You were grateful for this because now you could ask Aaron for a ride as well, and it just looked like a coworker carpool instead of your way to sneak over to Aaron’s apartment. Aaron nods, “Of course.” Aaron pauses for a second before turning and asking you a question he already knows the answer to, “Are you staying at Rossi’s, or would you like a ride home as well?” You offer a smile and nod, “If you wouldn't mind. Home sounds great right about now.” Aaron nod’s and the three of you say goodbye to Rossi before heading out.

You sit in the back seat with Spencer just to further express the whole ‘coworker’ thing. Luckily Spencer didn’t live too far away, so it made sense to drop him off first, and then you and Aaron could just head back to his place. The car ride was pretty quiet, with Spencer casually back seat driving and giving directions even though Aaron knew where he was going. When Aaron stops outside of Spencer's apartment, Spencer lets out a big yawn before thanking Aaron and hopping out of the car. With that, you can relax a bit more. You decide to wait until Aaron stops at the next red light to jump into the front seat, which you choose to do by staying in the car and just squeezing through the middle console area between the two front seats before taking your place in the passenger seat. Aaron glares at you, “Careful.”

You sleepily roll your eyes, “I’m fine. You worry too much.” Aaron starts driving again and shakes his head, “You seem to forget you had surgery.” You chuckle, “I promise I didn't forget. I just am choosing not to let it affect how I do things.” He looks over at you, “Do you have that much of an issue just taking it easy?” Aaron sounded serious. You slowly turn to face him, tilting your head before raising your eyebrow. He turns to look back at you. You decide to respond and can't help but start to chuckle, “I’m going to go ahead and assume that you said that cause you're a sweet boyfriend and worried.” You pause and let your chuckle turn into a laugh, “Because I sure as hell don't think my unit chief Aaron Hotchner can look me dead in the face and say that like he has not literally ignored hospital and doctors orders to get back into the field.” Aaron opens his mouth to protest but realizes the point you're making. He sighs, and you see a slight ornery look on his face when he finally responds, “I am allowed to do that because I am your boss.” You laugh and scoff, “Sure… sure.” Aaron parks in front of his apartment, and he turns off the car. He turns to you and gets a bit more serious again, “Just try to be more careful... for me?” You start to blush and decide just to kiss Aaron instead. Once you pull away, you answer him, “I’ll try. Now let's get inside, and into bed I’m exhausted.” Aaron smiles and nods before you both get out of the car, ready to call it a night.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators –Part 1–Part 2–Part 3–Part 4–Part 5-Part 6*

Tags: @less-intelligent-spencerreid​ @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25​ @winterparkers @thosesteelblueeyesaremysafeplace @christycreature @labyrinthlibrarian @thebivirgin @cornishkat

[bedlamsbard]

Part two of the reluctant roommates AU concept!  A reminder that my concept writing is deliberately not titled, chaptered, or betaed and is generally low pressure writing.  (I think to some extent I burned myself out on the titled stuff, but that’s for another post.)

Previous: Part 1

About 8.2K below the break.

Please note that while I don’t generally do content advisories, this contains discussion of fairly severe (unnamed) depression and anxiety, as well as physical abuse (about the same as other Inquisitor!Kanan concepts).

*

Agent Syndulla’s fear made Kanan’s back teeth ache, leeching into his dreams and giving him a flurry of nightmares that he knew had to come from her, not from within himself.  He woke with a start and lay in the unfamiliar bunk with one arm thrown up over his eyes, feeling like a voyeur despite the fact that he hadn’t done it on purpose.  Dreams weren’t a reflection of reality by any means, but they often had more to do with it than most people wanted to believe.  From what he had seen in Agent Syndulla’s dreams, most of them had been drawn from her memory.  He wished he didn’t know that.

At least it made a change of pace from his usual nightmares.

Eventually he made himself get up, wincing as his recently broken ribs twinged with the movement. They were mostly healed now, but were still fragile and painful, liable to get broken again if he wasn’t careful for the next week or so.  With any luck, this particular assignment wouldn’t involve getting shot or stabbed or thrown off in any cliffs, though given the way the past decade had gone Kanan wasn’t sure he really believed in luck anymore.  He still felt as though he had used up whatever he had remaining to him getting away from the Hunter for however long that lasted.

He dressed slowly, careful of the ribs as well as the rest of his assortment of healing bruises, cuts, and other miscellaneous injuries.  Some were from the assignment where he had gotten his broken; some were the Hunter’s parting gift, since his master had been extremely displeased by the order that split them up for the foreseeable future and Kanan had taken the brunt of his ire.  He touched his tongue to what he thought was a loose tooth and winced at the confirmation, feeding the Force through it to reseat it in the gum.

He could sense the Agent Syndulla was awake now, her attention focused on something other than her fear.  Kanan delayed leaving his cabin again as long as he could, not wanting to disturb her, but eventually had to answer the call of the refresher.  He was washing his hands when he sensed her sudden realization that he was awake and the spike of terror that followed, and winced.  He was used to people being afraid of Inquisitors, but usually his master got the bulk of that kind of attention; when it was aimed at Kanan it tended to be mixed with an odd kind of pity and relief.  People in the Imperial service expected nonhuman Inquisitors; they didn’t expect human Inquisitors, especially one with the right accent and one who was so obviously subordinate – as well as other things – to a Pau’an. Service members looked at the Hunter and felt fear; they looked at Kanan and thought, thank the gods that isn’t me.  It shouldn’t have surprised him that a nonhuman officer would feel differently.

He splashed water on his face, running a finger along the line of his jaw and the new growth of beard there; he eyed it in the mirror and decided to leave it for now.  It was something he hadn’t had at the Crucible, anyway, and at the moment he felt rather desperate for anything to remind him he wasn’t just the Hunter’s Hound.

He ran his damp fingers through his hair, finger-combing it, then drew it back into a short tail at the back of his skull.  When he couldn’t think of anything else he could do to delay, he went back out into the corridor, and then up to the cockpit where he could sense her presence.

She jumped as the door slid open, having obviously not heard his approach, and Kanan flinched back, startled by her reaction.  They stared at each other for a few moments as her astromech grumbled threateningly at him, then Agent Syndulla dropped her gaze back to the datapad she was holding.

She was a beautiful woman, the kind of woman he would have tried to seduce back before the Hunter had dragged him to the Crucible and beaten the spirit out of him, and he thought he probably could have succeeded, too.  He was hardly about to try now; for one thing, she was clearly terrified of him, and for another, the idea of letting anyone else touch him after the past few years was agonizing.  Even a pretty girl.

He said, “Can I get you some caf, while I’m up?”

She gave him a wary look, then said hesitantly, “All right.”

“How do you take it?”

“Milk and sugar,” she said after a moment. “A lot of both.”

Kanan nodded to her in what he hoped was a friendly fashion – he wasn’t sure he knew how to do that anymore – and let the door slide shut between them as he stepped back.  He took his time making the caf, pouring equal amounts of milk and sugar into her cup, and enough sugar into his that the spoon nearly stood up.  He had started drinking caf while he was in the field with the Grand Army of the Republic a decade ago, and after the first time he had spat out his mouthful – to the uproarious laughter of Styles and Gray and Depa Billaba’s barely concealed amusement – any clone who had made it for him had sweetened it enough to be tolerable for his palate.  He’d never lost the taste for it that way.

He took both mugs back to the cockpit.  Agent Syndulla didn’t jump when he came in this time, but she had clearly been braced for his return.  She took the mug from him with polite murmured thanks but didn’t sit back in her chair, sitting with the balls of her feet pressed against the deck, as if bracing herself against the need to suddenly flee.  Kanan prudently took the seat furthest from her and only belatedly realized it was the one nearest both exits.  He could tell from her fast, sideways glance towards the door to the living quarters and the hatch to the hold that she knew it too.  The droid grumbled again, rolling so that he was placed defiantly between the two of them, then swiveled his dome to glare at Kanan.

 Agent Syndulla took a sip of her caf, looking a little wary at first, then surprised.  “I didn’t know it could taste like this,” she blurted out.

“I worked in a tapcaf once,” Kanan offered. “Some of it stuck.”

She looked badly startled by that response.

He could have told her that he hadn’t always been an Inquisitor, but he wasn’t in the mood for the kinds of questions that might inspire.  He sat back and drank his own caf instead; neither the caffeine nor the sugar would do much for him, since Force-users processed most kinds of stimulants too fast for them to have any meaningful effect, but the taste helped wake him up.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking their caf, until Agent Syndulla finally settled herself, as if bracing for a fight, and said, “I’ve been looking at the files you sent me.”

Kanan raised his gaze to her.  She was, if nothing else, lovely to look at, but she wouldn’t have made it to the ISB or lasted this long if she was just a pretty face.  She clearly didn’t enjoy being under his scrutiny, though – most people weren’t when it came to Inquisitors – so after a moment he flicked his gaze slightly away from her.

“There’s an auction the day after we’re scheduled to arrive,” she went on, after a moment’s brief hesitation. “We could call in the local Imperial garrison for backup, but if the regulars could deal with this, then they would have done so by now.”

“This isn’t the sort of thing they’re really equipped to handle,” Kanan said.  If it had been, no one would have bothered to send an Inquisitor and an ISB agent to deal with it.  Though he had his suspicions about why the Whip had assigned it to him as his first solo assignment.  He was less certain about what it had to do with Agent Syndulla and didn’t have enough of an idea about the ISB’s internal politics to even begin to guess.

She nodded in response to his comment. “Depending what the situation is like, we might want them later, but Barzhun doesn’t have a large Imperial presence.  As far off the beaten path as it is, it’s not impossible that the local garrison has some sort of relationship with the black market there. It isn’t unheard of.”

And was usually the job of the ISB to deal with, though on occasion the Inquisition dealt with corrupt officials instead.  Kanan nodded. “What do you want to do?”

She looked a little surprised that he hadn’t just tried to give her an order.  Kanan said in explanation, “Most of my assignments have either interfaced directly with the local garrisons or been – ah, more direct. And my ma – I wasn’t the one who did any of the planning.”

He saw her lekku twitch slightly at the slip, but she didn’t ask about it.  Instead she braced her shoulders again and said, “Can you pass as a civilian?”

Kanan glanced down, giving the question due consideration because it had been a long time since he had been in a position where that was even an option and he wasn’t immediately certain of the answer.  “Yes,” he said eventually, “but I don’t have any civilian clothes.”

When she looked a little worried, he added, “I’ve got clothes that don’t have the Imperial seal on them.”  And there were plenty of civilians who only wore black or gray.  “You’ll have to lend me a blaster, though.”

She met his gaze for an instant. “Can you use one?”

“I wasn’t always an Inquisitor.”  He looked her over, this time with a more a critical eye than he had done before; past her prettiness she was muscled under her gray ISB field uniform, her holstered blaster a natural extension of both uniform and self.  He had also noticed earlier that her lekku signals were erratic, not quite explicable to anyone familiar with Twi’leks   “Can you pass as a civilian?”

“I’ve done it before.” She glanced down, clearly uncomfortable under his inspection. “Chopper too.”

“That I can believe,” Kanan said.

That startled something that was nearly a smile out of her, a quick flash of amusement that warmed the Force for no more than an instant as the astromech grumbled at them both. Then she dropped her gaze again. “The HoloNet posting on the darknet said that there would be a reception the night before the auction for potential bidders to review the items up for auction.  I assume that you’ll recognize what we’re looking for?”

 Kanan nodded. “I’ll know.” And a Twi’lek and a human together wouldn’t make anyone look twice at them, no matter how they played it.  Both were common species and common in company with each other.

Agent Syndulla looked at the chrono, then said, “We should be making planetfall in two hours and the reception is in six.”

“All right.”  He started to stand up, putting his hand out for her empty caf cup.

She handed it to him once she realized what the gesture meant, then hesitated, looking up at him. Kanan stopped rather than leave the way he had intended to.  “What is it?”

“I can’t call you ‘Inquisitor’ in the field,” she said, sounding uncomfortable. “Do you – do you have a name? That I can use, I mean?”

Kanan bit his lip. She didn’t know how loaded that question was, and he wasn’t about to answer her with “the Hound.”  Still, it took him a surprising amount of effort to say, “It’s Kanan.”

No one had called him that in almost four years.  Sometimes he was surprised that he could remember it at all.

Something about either his face or his voice must have made her realize the gravity of the confession. She said, her voice suddenly very shy, “Thank you.”  She hesitated, then said, “My name is Hera.”

He hadn’t been expecting that, and the surprise must have showed on his face.  She shifted uneasily in her seat, then looked away, embarrassed. “I’ve sent you the ISB files on the local garrison and government,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if you had them.”

“I don’t.  Thank you.”  He looked back at her for a moment, putting personal name and surname together, and blurted out, “Syndulla is a clan name.”

Her eyes went wide. He felt her low-grade anxiety snap into sudden fear, jolted from its previous course onto a new path. “Yes,” she said eventually, small-voiced, and then, with a defensive edge, “There are thousands of Syndullas.”

“I’m sorry,” Kanan said; he could tell he had said something that he should have avoided.

She dropped her gaze, but it didn’t do anything to hide the unease juddering along the Force.

“I’m sorry,” Kanan said again, then fled before he said anything else stupid.

*

Hera knew from personal experience that she mostly just looked uncomfortable in civilian clothes, which wasn’t exactly something she could do anything about.  She suspected that if she had been human she could have attended the black market auction in an Imperial uniform, if not an ISB one, and not had anyone look twice at her, but a Twi’lek in uniform always got attention. At the moment she felt even more obvious in her plain dark spacer’s trousers and jacket, as if she was wearing a beacon or a sign that said “I’m an Imperial agent, ask me how.”

She snuck a sideways look at the Inquisitor, who was slouching in the co-pilot’s chair next to her. Hera didn’t like having him that close, but since they were working together she couldn’t exactly justify not letting him be there as long as he didn’t touch anything.  She supposed that he had to be able to fly, though she doubted he had ever flown a freighter like the Ghost before.  Basic piloting was required for officer candidates at the Imperial academy, but unless you were tapped for pilot training, the Naval Academy, or the ISB Academy, most officers never actually had to fly anything larger than a landspeeder or anything faster than a speeder bike.  She had no idea what Inquisitors learned or how they were trained.

Without his armor or his lightsaber he looked less like an Inquisitor than she had been worried about – less so than she still felt she looked like an Imperial agent, even dressed in all black.  He wore the DL-18 blaster pistol she had found for him – its grip was too big to be comfortable in her own hand, so she had thought it might work for him – and somehow managed to look as if he had been carrying a blaster for most of his life, not a lightsaber.

He straightened up as they entered atmosphere and entered one of the flight lanes on approach to the planet’s capital city.  If any of the other ships in the flight lane happened to glance into the Ghost’s cockpit, they would see a pilot and a copilot both apparently doing their jobs, though Hera hoped the Inquisitor didn’t actually touch anything.

“You can fly, can’t you?” she asked him reluctantly.

He flicked a glance at her. “Yes.”

“Freighters or just starfighters?”

“I’ve flown freighters,” he said after a moment. “Not recently, but I’ve done it.  Cargo freighters, mostly, short-haul – longer haul sometimes, but not as a regular thing.”

Hera turned to look at him in surprise, trusting Chopper not to let the Ghost veer off course.  The Inquisitor was stubbornly not looking at her, his gaze fixed on the viewport in front of him.  I wasn’t always an Inquisitor, he had said a few hours ago.  She had assumed that that meant he had been elsewhere in the Imperial service before he had been recruited by the Inquisition, though he wasn’t that much older than she was.  Well, people came to the Academy from all walks of life, especially those recruited by the flight academies, who could sometimes skip normal Academy training. Presumably the Inquisition operated similarly.

She didn’t have anything to say in response to him and he didn’t seem to expect one, so she turned her attention back to their flight path.  She set down in one of the spaceports in Kethun City, the planet’s capital, and had the Inquisitor transmit the docking fee while she and Chopper shut down the ship’s engines.

Hera eyed him again once they were outside the ship, standing in the small docking bay and trying not to frown at the drift of wind-blown dirt and yellowish pollen that coated the floor.  She sneezed involuntarily, her eyes watering, and dug into her pocket for the allergy tablets she had grabbed when she realized what season it was here.  She dry-swallowed them and hoped that on this occasion they wouldn’t make her sleepy, which they seemed to do at entirely random intervals rather than consistently.

In the thin light of the overcast sky that filtered down through the open hatch doors above them, the Inquisitor’s dark garments looked pale, nearly washed out.  Black didn’t suit him, especially in daylight.  Hera looked at him, sneezed again, then wiped at her streaming eyes and said, “We should probably get you more clothes.”

He flicked a wary glance at her, then relaxed slightly at whatever he saw on her face. “Is it that bad?”

“If we’re going to several days of receptions and auctions,” Hera said.  On some of her ops he would be unremarkable, but he would stand out amongst the kind of people who attended black market auctions, and not in a good way.

“All right,” he said, sounding more weary than anything else. “Let’s go find the market.”

*

Hera was startled at how much the addition of colors to his garments changed the Inquisitor’s appearance. He looked deeply uncomfortable, as though he knew he wasn’t supposed to be wearing anything other than black and gray, but his green shirt brought out color in his face and pale eyes and eased some of the hollows in his scarred cheeks.  Hera thought that he wouldn’t raise eyebrows or twitch tentacles in company now, or at least not for the reasons he would have done before.  He also looked younger, more vulnerable, less dangerous; she wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Hera hated paying any attention to her appearance other than making sure that her uniform was neat and that none of her caste markings were showing, but for this particular occasion she made sure that she was wearing something that at least suggested she had more money than the average spacer.  She didn’t even own any clothes that could pass muster as something a high-caste Twi’lek would wear, not that that was a distinction that would make much sense off Ryloth or outside the enclaves.  Maybe not even the enclaves, but Hera avoided them whenever possible and had no idea what went on there.  Being among other Twi’leks made her so nervous that it was often debilitating; she had almost failed her ISB Academy field trials for just that reason.

She left Chopper with the Ghost; even though this wasn’t her usual kind of op, she knew that in this setting an astromech droid might stand out – Chopper certainly had no talent for being unobtrusive.  She and the Inquisitor got their cloaks and the speeder bikes from the Ghost’s hold – while the city was small enough they could have walked, there was always the chance that they would need to make a quick getaway.  Hera felt a little better with the handles under her hands, anyway.

She watched the Inquisitor out of the corner of her eye as they sped down the road towards the site of the reception.  He handled his speeder with a light, delicate touch, less heavy-handed than a scout trooper – more like a starfighter pilot than anything else, but not a TIE pilot, she decided after a few minutes of silent observation.  That puzzled her, since privately owned starfighters were illegal except under very rare circumstances – not that you couldn’t make those circumstances come about with enough credits – and the vast majority of those available were TIE-variants.  He must have learned on one of the others, since she knew Inquisitors flew TIEs.  If he was aware of her attention, he didn’t show it.

They pulled up in front of a neon-lit nightclub, where they handed their speeder bikes over to a parking droid and received a claim token in exchange.  Hera tucked it away, bemused, and fell into step with the Inquisitor as they made their way to join the queue at the door.  The sound of pounding music from inside made her wince; she hated clubs and crowds alike.

The bouncer let both of them in after relieving them of their blasters, for which they both received claim tokens.  If the Inquisitor had his lightsaber on him, the scanner didn’t turn it up; Hera wasn’t certain whether he had brought it or not, and hadn’t been about to ask. Hopefully he wasn’t so trigger-happy as to pull it out without absolute necessity, but having never seen him in action Hera had absolutely no idea.

Once they were inside and past the initial crush of people at the door, Hera surveyed the wide dark room beyond with distaste; it was full of beings of various species dancing, drinking, and eating, with a stage set up at the far end and a band playing something that she supposed technically counted as music, assuming you had no taste.

She glanced at the Inquisitor to make sure he followed her, then edged around the dance floor, past several shadowed – and definitely occupied – nooks.  Hera fixed the instructions from the darknet posting in the front of her mind and hoped that the Inquisitor remembered them too.

After several minutes and a handful of propositions – to both of them, not just her, which was a refreshing change – they made it to the back of the club.  A back hallway led to the kitchens and some refreshers that Hera suspected were intended for the staff rather than the patrons, as well as a door with a keypad on the control next to it.  Hera punched in the code from the darknet, holding her breath until the door slid open, revealing descending stairs.  It slid shut again as the Inquisitor stepped in after her and the pounding music from the club vanished as cleanly as if it had been cut by a knife.  Hera let out her breath in relief.

She went down the stairs with the Inquisitor at her back and emerged into another room.  It was a little smaller than the dancefloor above them, but more brightly lit and with far fewer people.  There were still a good number of beings, but they were older than the club-goers and mostly more finely dressed.  A pair of Togruta lounge singers draped themselves over the top of some kind of big instrument being played by a Nautolan who struck keys with a number of small hammers held expertly between his fingers.

A serving droid came up to Hera and offered a tray with a selection of stemmed and un-stemmed glasses holding a variety of colored liquid.  “Drinks, madam, sir?  I have alcoholic or non-alcoholic as you prefer –”

“Non-alcoholic,” Hera said; she could tell she was in the mood where alcohol would make her paranoid and angry, even if she drank on the job, which she didn’t unless there was no choice.

“The same.”  The Inquisitor’s voice was soft.

The droid obligingly rotated the tray for Hera. “I have fruit juices, carbonated beverages, flavored waters from a variety of worlds –”

Hera accepted a glass of what she hoped was meiloorun juice – it was about the right color – and was gratified to find she was right when she tasted it.  The Inquisitor chose a glass apparently at random and took a perfunctory sip; she suspected he had taken it mostly to have something to do with his hands.

Once the droid had gone, she sipped her drink and looked around the room.  Another look revealed that there were a number of tall display cases placed at regular intervals; the beings gathered around them had obscured them from Hera’s initial observation.  She flicked a look at the Inquisitor to make sure that he had seen them too, then moved towards the nearest one.

The beings already there – a trio of Rodian males, an Ithorian couple, and a human of indeterminate gender – all glanced up at their approach, briefly registered their appearance, then went back to their conversation.  The male Ithorian moved aside so that Hera and the Inquisitor had a better look at the contents of the display case.

She heard the Inquisitor hiss softly through clenched teeth.  The sound made the Rodians twitch, looking over at him before apparently deciding it was an expression of interest rather than – whatever it was.  Hera glanced up at him worriedly, decided it was unlikely that he was going to snap and go on a murder spree – at least not in the next thirty seconds – and looked back at the case.

The contents were unremarkable, at least to her eyes – a set of four small sculptures of various near-human beings in long robes holding upraised lightsabers in different poses. They were made of some pale gray stone she didn’t recognize.

Hera was trying to figure out a discreet way to ask if this was what they were looking for when she realized that under the current circumstances, there was no real point in being discreet.  She looked at the Inquisitor and said, “Is that it?”

He nodded without saying anything, his expression grim.

They moved onto the next display case, which held more statues and a stained glass window propped up with a light behind it.  Hera glanced at the Inquisitor again and saw the tightness in his jaw; she didn’t bother asking this time, since his face was answer enough.

They rotated through several more display cases, all of which got the Inquisitor’s nod.  Now and then someone new would come down the stairs, but by and large the occupants ignored each other, except for a handful who all obviously knew and liked each other well enough to speak to one another. Hera supposed that there weren’t too many people in the galaxy who traded in Jedi relics and most of them were probably in this room with her; she wished she had dared come down with a recording device so that the ISB could match known names to faces.

The serving droid came up to them again to take their empty glasses – well, to take Hera’s empty glass; the Inquisitor had barely touched his, but handed it over anyway.  Hera accepted another glass of fruit juice and drifted over to the nearest case that they hadn’t inspected yet.

She felt the air change as the Inquisitor went absolutely still beside her.

Because she knew what he was, she looked at him first, not the contents of the case; some of the other occupants of the room had felt the shift as well and were looking around warily at each other or at the cases.

He was shaking so badly that she could hear his teeth chattering together, his stillness transmuted into fury that she could feel like a weight in the air.  Hera shot a look at the case to see what it was that had upset him so badly and saw a collection of innocuous-looking thin braids and strings of mismatched beads; they struck something in her memory, but she couldn’t remember what at the moment.  She set that aside to worry about later, hesitated for an instant, and grabbed the Inquisitor’s arm.

He flinched violently at her touch, his eyes gone suddenly wild with shock.  She could feel muscle beneath her palm, stiff as steel cording; as much as she wanted to she didn’t release him. “Calm down,” she said to him, pitching her voice low but not whispering. “Do you need some air?”

He didn’t look around, but she saw awareness bleed into his panicked eyes.  He shook his head slightly and Hera felt the pressure in the air lifting as he forced himself to something resembling calm, pulling his furious response back inside his own skin.  She could still feel him trembling beneath her hand.

She pushed her half-full glass of fruit juice into his other hand. “Drink that,” she said.

He hesitated, and she snapped, furious and embarrassed, “It’s not tainted just because a tailhead drank from it.”

He shot her a startled look and said, sounding genuinely baffled, “Why would you think I thought that?”

Hera stared back at him, so surprised by that reaction that she briefly forgot why she had handed him her drink. “Humans –” she started to say, then shook her head. “Just drink it.”

He drank it.

She kept her hand on his arm until he had stopped shaking, then released him, tucking her hands awkwardly into her pockets to have something to do with them.  When he had finished the glass, he stared at the display case again, then dragged his gaze away and went off to the next one, handing the empty glass off to the serving droid as he did.  Hera followed, hoping her fury wasn’t plain on her face.  The other guests veered away from him, though something about the way they did so made Hera think they didn’t know or understand why they were doing it.

The next case only held more art, to Hera’s relief.  The Inquisitor stared blankly at the delicately figured tiles as if he didn’t really see them, though Hera suspected he knew exactly what was on them and – going by his reactions so far – what they meant.

“I suppose some of these still have some juice in them,” a passing Quarren woman said in her watery voice, and laughed.  Hera saw the Inquisitor’s shoulders tense in response.

She stepped tentatively up beside him. “We’ve seen most of it,” she said. “We’ll be back for the auction tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “I need to see all of it.”  He shut his eyes tightly, clearly trying to calm himself down even though he was still badly upset.

Hera eyed him doubtfully. Looking at him now, it was hard to remember that he was in all likelihood one of the most dangerous beings Hera had ever met; all of that coiled threat that had been there only a few moments before was gone, replaced by real distress.

She recognized the expression abruptly.  She had seen it in the mirror, on one of the occasions when she had been back at the Academy and invited to some event or another at the home of a local potentate on Naboo.  He had been a collector – “of everything,” he had said while showing cadets around his estate.  He had looked at Hera as if he was considering collecting her too, but she had managed to avoid being in any proximity to him for most of the evening, and once the other cadets began drinking heavily she had made her excuses and left early, for which rudeness she had been roundly rebuked the next day. She had been looking at his displays – arranged in order of what he thought was most attractive, not in anything that made sense – when she had turned a corner and found herself looking at a kalikori.

It wasn’t a Syndulla one, not her family’s and not from any of the patrician Syndulla families; she had known that immediately.  She hadn’t recognized the clan, but kalikori were intimately personal to each family; no one would ever let it pass out of a family line except through marriage or adoption.  But there had been a lot of looting done during the Clone Wars, and more during the Imperial occupation.

Searching further through the collection and trying not to make it look as though she was doing so, Hera had found a lararium, the household shrine each family kept, and the little figures that represented the protective spirits of a Twi’lek family, the ancestral genius and the patron lares, both separated from the lararium and the kalikori alike and jumbled together on a shelf of other small statues that Hera hadn’t recognized.  She hadn’t thought, at that point, that she had much Twi’lek feeling left after four years in the Academy.  Apparently she had been wrong about that.

It was the same expression on the Inquisitor’s face now.

She raised her gaze to the Inquisitor again, keeping her voice low as she said, “Those braids in that case – they aren’t from the High Republic, are they?”

He shook his head a little, his face a mask of grief and fury fighting for calm.  Then he looked at her sharply, some of that starting to bleed into alarm.  Hera could guess why; she didn’t know much about Jedi, but she had known enough to ask. She met his pale gaze, resisting the urge to look away; she hated making eye contact with other people and there was something disorienting about him.

It was the Inquisitor who looked away.  He swallowed, his throat working, and looked back at the tiles in the case in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually, then swallowed again.  “I need to see the rest of the items up for auction.”

Hera bit her lip. “I want to get a feel for the crowd,” she said to him. “Will you be all right on your own for a few minutes?  I don’t think we need to stay long.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said a little distantly. “I was surprised.  It won’t happen again.”

“All right,” Hera said. She stepped away from him, hoping that he actually could behave himself if left to his own devices.  It was balanced against her own nervousness about interacting with other people; she wasn’t particularly worried about being recognized as an Imperial agent, since in her experience no one ever looked at a young Twi’lek woman and came to the conclusion she was an ISB officer, usually including other members of the service, often including times when she was in uniform.  Hera was a decent field agent, but she knew that she hadn’t exactly lived up to Agent Beneke’s desires for her, which was how she had gotten this assignment with the Inquisitor in the first place.

She got another drink from the serving droid, this one a fermented fruit juice with some bubbles in it that looked alcoholic at a glance but wasn’t, and settled her shoulders before she went back to the case with the figurines in it, which had a small group of people gathered around it.  She lingered on the edge of the group, drinking her juice and listening in on the conversation – a trio of scholars debating the authenticity of the figurines, apparently.  After a few minutes of that she drifted away to another case, which held what looked like ornaments.  She glanced up to track the Inquisitor’s location in the room and saw him steadily working his way through the remaining cases, his mood like a thundercloud keeping people away from him.

“Lovely, aren’t they?”

Hera turned, pasting a polite smile on her lips, and saw a thin, white-bearded Pantoran male standing beside her.  “It’s very intricate work,” she said.

He smiled with as much appreciation as if he had been the creator rather than some long-dead Jedi. “Mirialan,” he said, indicating a pair of round belt buckles propped up on display. “Do you see the floral work around the rims and the eclipsed suns at the centers? Variations on those themes have recurred amongst Mirialan Jedi for centuries – millennia, perhaps, though the older examples are disputed.  They stem from an old Force cult on Mirial, one that hasn’t been active since before Mirial joined the Republic.  We know nothing about that cult, not even its name; it no longer has any worshipers on Mirial, but until a decade ago there were still elements of it amongst the Jedi.”

He gestured to a collection of small coppery rings, each about the length of a knuckle and inscribed with knot-like decorations.  “Weequay hair ornaments – for their braids, yes?  You still see some Weequay wearing them today, but if you ever have the occasion to examine them closely, you’ll see that the finework is all different. That’s because Weequay Jedi had their own patterns that were used back on Sriluur before the Hutts conquered the world more than eight thousand years ago.  Another Force cult, perhaps.  When Weequay were first recruited into the Jedi Order, they took the symbols with them; you won’t see them on Sriluur or the other Weequay worlds today.”

“Eight thousand years is a long time,” Hera said, since she couldn’t think of anything else to say and it seemed like the point in which he expected a response.

“Perhaps longer.  The Hutts – especially in the days of the old Hutt Empire – prefer to destroy the records of their conquered worlds, so that those worlds might seem to begin with their coming.  It’s hard on historians.”  He sighed wistfully, then looked at her more closely.

Hera resisted the urge to double-check that her markings were covered, since he seemed like the sort of person who might know that caste markings were more than just decorative tattoos the way most non-Twi’leks thought.

When she didn’t say anything one way or another, he seemed to decide that she was interested and pointed at a quartet of ivory bangles inside the case.  Each one was a double-curve, small enough to fit around a near-human’s wrist, and incised with intricate patterns, some of which had been filled in with black, red, or gold, others of which were bare.  The ivory was yellowing with age.  Something about them was familiar and Hera frowned, trying to place them.

The Pantoran saw her expression and smiled, open and pleased rather than malicious. “Ryloth river hog tusks,” he said. “I can’t pronounce the name in Twi’leki –”

“Ruti’ara,” Hera said after a moment of thought. “From a region in the equatorial jungle.  They’re extinct now.”  She didn’t say that there was a set of similar bangles in her mother’s jewelry case back on Ryloth, a gift from Cham’s grandmother – then the clan head – when they had married; they had been passed down among the women of the family for a thousand years.

She looked back at the bangles in the case, now seeing the pattern of half-familiar clan markings amongst the carvings.  “Fenn,” she said slowly.  When the Pantoran blinked, she said, “The geometric patterns, there – in black. Those are Fenn clan markings. They’re a curial clan on Ryloth –” And had been in vendettas with the Syndullas no less than three dozen times over the past thousand years, including after the Curia’s ban two centuries earlier (which everyone on Ryloth had just taken as a strong recommendation for the first few decades), but who was counting.

“The clan is still extant?” the Pantoran asked, sounding a little disappointed.

Hera fought back family feeling she didn’t know she still had and resisted the urge to reply unfortunately.  Instead she said, “Last I heard, yes.  There was some scandal a few years ago, but they’re still around.”

“There is a clan that has died out, though, yes?”

Hera bit her lip. “There are a few, mostly smaller patrician clans.  You’re probably thinking about the Indahs.  They were a curial clan like the Fenns and the Sy – the Securas.  They were in a –”  She had to search for the word in Basic before going on. “– a vendetta, a blood feud, with the Fortunas.  That’s another curial clan.  The Fortunas tricked the curial family – the Indah Hid Indah – into agreeing to peace talks.  When the Indah Hid Indah and the heads of the patrician families in the clan were all at table for the banquet, the Fortunas slaughtered them.  Then they hunted down all of the other Indah patricians and killed them too, not to mention most of the plebeians.  When news got out, the Republic Senate wanted the Jedi to come in and arbitrate it, but the Curia – that’s the governing body on Ryloth – wouldn’t let their ships land.  They sent the Fortuna – the clan head, I mean – into the Bright Lands and ostracized most of the patrician family heads, and banned the Fortunas from being able to vote in the Curia for twenty years.  They also banned the vendetta, so there aren’t supposed to be blood feuds anymore. The only Indah patricians who survived were the ones who had married into other clans cum manu, and when you do that you give up your clan rights – they weren’t legally Indahs anymore, I mean, they were legally members of their spouse’s clans.  I know at least one petitioned to revoke her marriage, but there weren’t enough Indahs left for there to still be a clan.  And the Fortunas had destroyed their lararia and kalikori, burned the shrines. That’s supposed to destroy the clan’s connection to their ancestors and the genii – the – the earth-gods, I suppose is the closest thing you can say in Basic.  Since the Indah Hid Indah were a curial clan, they traced their line in direct descent from one of the gods – I think it might have been the –”  She fumbled for the Basic again, aware that her Ryloth accent was starting to come out very strongly, and if anyone knew enough to recognize it, that it was the purest high-caste Twi’leki.  “The Son of Sands.  There are other curial clans descended from the Son of Sands too but the Indah Hid Indah were very, very old, as old as – the Fenns.”

She had almost said “as old as the Syndulla Tann Syndulla.”  One of the surviving Indahs had actually been married to the Syndulla prime heir at the time, and had almost succeeded in convincing her and her twin brother to declare vendetta against the Fortunas themselves before the Syndulla clan head had gotten wind of it and stopped them.

“This was a long time ago?” asked the Pantoran.

“Not really,” Hera admitted. “About two hundred years.”  She tensed in expectation of a comment about how barbaric Twi’leks were, never mind that there were humans on plenty of worlds who still practiced various forms of blood feud, but none came.

“An old custom?” the Pantoran said instead.

“Um, yes,” Hera said. She was too embarrassed about having given a speech about the Hid Indah Massacre to offer up that the vendetta went back to the days of the gods, when the children of the Mother of Mountains had torn Ryloth apart in war with each other after the Son of Sands had murdered his sister’s lover.  It was why so much of the planet was desert, except for the equatorial jungle; their oldest records showed that millennia earlier much more of the planet had been jungle and there had still been enough ocean to separate the continents.  “What does that have to do with the ruti’ara tusks?”

“Ah.  Nothing.”  The Pantoran beamed at the case again.

Hera let out her breath through her teeth, annoyed.  She could feel heat in her cheeks, traveling up to her ear-cones and the base of her lekku.

“The marvelous thing about the Jedi is that they were so very, very old and had members from all over the galaxy, all kinds of species, so customs, traditions, peoples – animals, even – were preserved within them like insects in amber, passed down from master to apprentice over so many generations few sentient minds can really comprehend them.  They provide a window into a past where there are no other windows – no holograms, no texts, no oral memories.  And yet that past was preserved amongst the Jedi – it was still a living thing.  The Empire might have you believe that the Jedi stole children from thousands of worlds, stripped them of their identities, their cultures, their species, and made them all Jedi and nothing else, but if that was true, then how would there be any of this?”  He swept an arm around at the room and its display cases.  “When I was a very young, there were pirates preying on my family’s station, and a Jedi came to deal with them – a Togruta woman, very beautiful.  She wore the akul teeth headdress of a Togruta warrior, an animal which those among the Togruta who wish to prove their strength hunt and kill.  Why would she do that if she was not Togruta as much as Jedi?”

He looked back at the case and sighed. “Many of those here are here for the money, or are enthusiasts for the forbidden – some for the Jedi.  Others enjoy beautiful things, the rarer the better.”  He flicked a glance at the Quarren who had passed Hera earlier, his expression disapproving.  “When they were destroyed, it was not merely the Jedi who were lost, but a thousand others who were preserved only amongst the Jedi.”

“Most of the people on those worlds pay attention to their own history,” Hera said hesitantly.

“Ah.  Yes.  Some do. Others would, but their histories were stripped from them – the Hutts, as I said.  The Empire, more recently.  Even the Republic, in its way, as you said yourself.”

Hera blinked. “Did I?”

“When you said that your people would not allow the Republic to take over the punishment of its wrongdoers,” the Pantoran explained patiently. “Others were not so stubborn; at other points, the Republic would not have cared about their wishes.”

“They’re not –”  my people, she wanted to finish, but she couldn’t get the words out.

“But sometimes history is just lost,” he went on sadly. “Not maliciously or in war or natural disaster, it just…falls out of use, and then out of memory, and if there are traces at all, then they are traces we cannot recognize.  By the time one realizes it is gone, it is just not there to find.”

Hera bit her lip.

“You make it sound as if the Jedi are only the composite of others, with nothing of o – of their own,” the Inquisitor said quietly from behind Hera.

She almost jumped out of her skin.  She hadn’t heard him approach, and from the way the Pantoran flinched he hadn’t noted the Inquisitor’s arrival either.

“No – no, of course not,” he said, when he had gotten control of himself. “But my – my interests have always lain elsewhere.  There are so many who are interested in the Jedi and only the Jedi for what they themselves are, and not all that they represent.”

“I see,” the Inquisitor said gravely.  He sounded more amused than anything else, which Hera decided to cautiously take as a good sign.

Hera half turned so that she could watch him and the Pantoran at the same time.  He was looking at the case, not at the Pantoran, his gaze moving over the beautiful objects inside.  She realized abruptly that he had used the present tense, not the past.  And that he had started to say “our,” not “their.”

“You are an enthusiast of the Jedi, perhaps?” the Pantoran said, recovering.

Hera tensed again, but the Inquisitor just raised an eyebrow. “I have an interest.”

The Pantoran turned to Hera again.  “And you, you are a student of history, I see?”

The Imperial Academy’s version of history was “things were terrible until the Emperor took control” but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Just a few things,” she said instead. “But I enjoyed our conversation,” she added, because she did know how to be polite; not something she had learned from the Empire.  She took a chance and laid her hand on the Inquisitor’s arm, suspecting that he was probably aware of her brief hesitation before she made contact. “I think we’ve seen what we came here to see,” she told him.

He was tense under her palm, giving her the impression that he didn’t like to be touched any more than she did.  None of it showed in his face as he glanced down towards her and nodded.

“I will see you tomorrow evening, perhaps,” the Pantoran said.

“Perhaps,” Hera agreed, and hoped a little vaguely that she wouldn’t have to arrest him.

She released the Inquisitor as soon as they turned to walk away.  They were silent all the way up the stairs into the noisy, crowded club, as they retrieved their speeder bikes, and on the ride back to the Ghost, the wind from their passage whipping Hera’s lekku back behind her.

Hera was stowing her bike and trying to decide whether the appropriate thing to do in this situation would be to debrief the evening when the Inquisitor said, very tiredly, “I’ll see you in the morning,” and vanished up the ladder.  A few moments later she heard his cabin door slide open and shut again.

“Well,” she said to Chopper, who had come down to make sure she was all right. “That was interesting.”

[vintagedolan]

nine months (gbd)

having grayson’s baby is a dream come true for both of you, and he does everything he can to make it the absolute best experience that he can for you

word count: 11k (hahahaha fuck)

warnings/tags: the fluffiest fluff that has ever fluffed okay, seriously I don’t think I could have made this any softer, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy things (morning sickness, weight gain, etc.)

feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy :)

january

8 days late. You were 8 days late. A few days here or there would have you a bit edgy, but it had never been this long before. And you just had an instinct that this time, it wasn’t a scare. You were almost positive that you were pregnant. You weren’t opposed to having kids - you knew that you and Grayson wanted to be parents together, and that you were going to spend the rest of your lives together. You decided to let things run naturally, and if something happened then it happened. But something about the reality of having to go out and actually buy a pregnancy test had your mouth dry. Were you actually ready for this?

But as soon as that thought came, there was another. Grayson was going to be over the moon about this whole thing. All he ever wanted was to be a father, and you knew he was going to be amazing. He would make up for any of your shortcomings and then some. With that newfound confidence, you grabbed your purse and decided to head out to the store.

“Where yah goin’?” Grayson’s voice came from the dining room table where he was working as you tried to scurry past him. You hadn’t thought of an alibi. Were you supposed to tell him? No. You didn’t want to get his hopes up if your instincts were wrong.  

“Just running to the store. Cause I need some stuff. From the store.”

Fuck. Nice one. 

“Okay....” he trailed off, obviously suspicious. “You alright?”

“Yep, perfectly fine. I’ll be back soon, love you bye!” You blew him a kiss and escaped out the door before you said anything else damning. 

This was going to be interesting.

Your fingers were tapping away on your steering wheel the whole drive to the local drug store, trying to think of what the hell you were going to do. Should you surprise him? Plan out a big elaborate thing? Or maybe you should just tell him? Should you have told him you were going to get a test? But what if it was negative? He’d be so sad.

With your head spinning, it was a miracle you even made it to the store. But you pulled in and headed to the aisle you never needed to go to, grabbing a few tests and going to pay for them, trying to convince yourself that no one was staring at you. The cashier offered you a soft smile and it actually calmed you down slightly as you headed back to the car. 

In order to make it a little less suspicious, you decided to get some coffee and bring it home for the both of you. You didn’t have to pee yet, and you knew you’d go crazy at home if you had to wait, so you went to your favorite local shop and got your usual along with Gray’s and Ethan’s. 

The drive home was quick, but you chugged it as fast as you could, wanting it to hit you before you got back. You stashed the tests under your shirt so that Gray wouldn’t see, and tried to walk as casually as you could back into the house. 

“I brought coffee!” You called out. If you directed the conversation, then maybe you wouldn’t get blindsided and give something away.

“I thought you were going to the store?” Gray asked. He was still in the same spot at the kitchen counter, and when you looked at his screen he was working on some new promotional posts for Wakeheart. Good. That would keep him busy.

“They didn’t have what I needed, figured I’d get some while I was out,” you smiled, passing him his cup. He leaned up towards you, asking for a kiss. You gave him a quick one before going to throw your cup away.

“You already drank yours? You’re gonna be bouncing off the walls in about 20 minutes,” Grayson teased. He knew how you got with too much caffeine. 

“I already feel jittery,” you laughed. It wasn’t a lie, but it definitely wasn’t from the coffee - you’d actually gotten decaf, remembering somewhere that caffeine wasn’t good for babies. You walked back to the room you and Grayson shared, not realizing until you got there that you still had Ethan’s coffee in your hand. 

It didn’t matter, if you didn’t take the test right then you were pretty sure you were going to explode. So you sat the drink down on the desk, locked yourself in the bathroom and pulled the two tests out from their hiding places. 

Peeing on a stick was just as awkward as you thought it would be, but you were proud that you got it on the first try. 

And now, you just had to wait. Three minutes had never taken longer in your entire life, you were sure. But, you’d made sure to buy the tests that would clearly say one way or the other so there was no guess work. You tried to keep yourself calm, foot tapping as you watched the seconds click by on the timer you set. In just a few minutes, you were going to know if your instincts were right.

By the thirty second mark, you were hovering over the tests, watching the electronic bar load, flashing on the final stage. And then, the first one turned, revealing one word.

Pregnant. 

“Holy fuck.” 

You’d known. But now you knew. And holy shit. You were actually pregnant. The second test turned then, yielding the same result. There was no denying it.

The butterflies in your gut were overwhelming and you sunk to the floor, a hand going over your tummy. There was baby in there. And it was Grayson’s baby. You felt like you could scream, or cry, or explode. 

“I’ve gotta tell Gray,” you mumbled to yourself. You wanted to do something special, but you also knew that there was no way you were going to plan an entire elaborate reveal - you’d break and tell him early. Something simple, something quick, but still something Grayson...

It clicked. Building. You immediately started searching on your phone for what you needed, deciding that you’d use his projector to put it on the wall. But should you film it? You didn’t want it to be a production deal, but a larger part of you wanted to have the footage of such a special moment. And you wanted it to be good quality, but you didn’t know how to work a camera for shit. 

You needed Ethan. You quickly stashed the tests in a bathroom drawer and reached for your phone, pulling up your texts with Ethan.

Come to Grayson’s room, don’t be suspicious, bring a camera, don’t ask questions

You knew he would be confused, but you also knew that he would do it. You got excited all over again when you thought about telling Ethan the news. He was your best friend - hell, he was your brother, and you knew he was going to be over the moon for you. 

It wasn’t five minutes later when he snuck in, closing the door and looking at you in confusion.

“What the hell is going on? Are you pranking him? Because if you are I so want in,” Ethan grinned. He was already filming - you wondered if you looked as wild on camera as you felt.

“Oh jesus please don’t make him think this is a prank. E, I need you to set up that camera so that you can see this wall with the projector. And then I need you to leave and not ask me any questions.” 

If he started prying, you knew you’d tell him, and you’d feel terrible that Grayson wouldn’t be the first one to know.

“Okay... are you alright? You’re acting weird, you’ve got me a little worried.” Ethan frowned a bit, concern on his face.

“I promise I’m fine. And I’ll tell you what’s going on as soon as I can. I swear,” you said, offering him the most reassuring smile that you could muster.

“I’m holding you to that,” he muttered, setting up the camera in a good place and making sure it was recording before heading back to his room. Once he was cleared out of the room, you pulled up the picture you wanted onto the projector.

It was a wooden crib, simple but cute. And it would serve its purpose, which was all that mattered. Once you had it as you wanted, you turned the projector back off so you could pull it up at the right time. Then, you grabbed one of the positive tests and hid it in the waistband of your shorts. 

Trying to keep it together, you poked your head out of the door, willing yourself to do your best acting.

“Hey Gray?” You called out.

“Yeah baby?” From the sound of it he was still in the kitchen.

“Can you c’mere for a sec?” 

“Comin’,” he responded. You felt like your legs were going to give out. Your whole lives were about to change in the next few minutes. He came in casually, rubbing at his hair. “What’s up?”

“Well. I wanted to ask you if you’d do something for me,” you said. He quirked an eyebrow, crossing his arms. He was suspicious, but that was bound to happen.

“Okay....” 

“It’s nothing bad, it’s just that I don’t know how to build it, but I think that you’d do it really well,” you explained. He relaxed a bit at that, leaning into you a bit more before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Well now I’m excited. Show me,” he grinned - you were glad you’d picked this as the way you’d tell him, he got so excited about building.

With a deep breath, you turned on the projector, the picture of the crib popping up. You looked up to watch his face. As you expected, he was immediately confused. 

“What even is that? Is that a bed?” He let go of you, moving to the wall and looking at it even closer. “It looks like a crib, with all the bars on the sides and stuff.”

“Yeah, I know it’s complicated. But you’ve got about nine months to get it done, so no rush or anything.” You were beaming, just waiting for the moment it would click. 

“9 months? Why would I need 9 mo-”

You watched the realization come across his face, his mouth opening slightly into a little ‘o’, and then his expression turned to disbelief. Any of your nerves faded away as you realized this was all you ever wanted - having a kid with the man that you loved more than anything. You relaxed fully, trying to take it all in. 

“No. No fucking way. No way.”

“Yes way,” you laughed.

“You are not. Is this a prank? Are you pranking me?” He was frozen to the spot he had turned at.

“I wouldn’t prank about something like this.”

“You’re pregnant? You’re actually pregnant?!” 

“We’re having a baby,” you exclaimed, reaching for the test and pulling it out where he could see. That got his feet moving, and he only had to look at it for a second before he had his arms around you and you were both spinning around. You weren’t sure you could remember a time where you were happier. 

It was good that you knew Grayson would never drop you because suddenly the two of you were sinking, and you realized he was sitting down on the floor, squeezing you to him in the tightest of hugs. It took a minute for you to register the wetness on your shoulder, and when you pulled back slightly, you realized that Grayson was crying.

“Oh baby, don’t cry, you’re gonna make me cry!” It was too late - you were already tearing up, but both of you had the biggest smiles across your faces. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just so fucking happy right now. This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he said, voice cracking a little bit. You pulled him back to you, and the two of you rocked back and forth together, bodies close. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours; neither of you knew, or cared. 

Grayson was the first to speak up, and the questions started flowing.

“Have you told anyone else? When did you even find out?! Do we need to go to a doctor? Oh we definitely need to take you to the doctor.” 

“Relax baby, I just found out like 5 minutes before I told you, I went to the store to get tests cause my period was late. We’ll get an appointment made, I already have a gyno. And no, I haven’t told anybody.”

“Holy shit. So just you and me know? I gotta tell Ethan! I gotta tell my mom!” He was already shifting, starting to stand up. You let him lift you, but you caught his hand. 

“We should probably wait until we go to the doctor and get everything checked out before we tell everyone,” you cautioned. 

He looked a bit puzzled. You hated to damper his mood even a little bit, but you weren’t ready for the whole world to know about a pregnancy that seemed so fragile to you. It clicked for him, and he immediately put a hand to your stomach, fingers splaying out over soft skin.

“You’re right.” He nodded his head, still looking down at your stomach in awe. There was an unspoken question that you knew he was biting his tongue on.

“We’re definitely telling Ethan though, for sure. Like right now,” you smiled. Grayson looked up, beaming.

“Oh thank god, there was no way I could keep this from him.”

“I have an idea,” you grinned, explaining it to him quickly. He agreed that it was perfect, and went to get the camera that had been recording the two of you so that he could capture this too.

You went over to the long forgotten coffee that you’d brought home for Ethan. It was cold now, but you could microwave it. You grabbed a sharpie from the desk, scribbling what you wanted on the cup before taking Grayson’s hand and leading him to the kitchen. You popped it in the microwave - it wouldn’t be great, but that wasn’t really the point - and Grayson set up the camera. Once everything was done, you and Grayson exchanged a giddy glance before setting it into motion.

“Ethan! C’mere!” You called out.

“What do you want!?” He yelled back in his typical I-don’t-wanna-get-up tone.

“Just c’mere real quick, I forgot to give you something!” 

Grayson was giggling next to you, trying to keep it together.

“Alright, I’m comin’,” he called out, and a few moments later he was in the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“I forgot to give you your coffee earlier, here,” you smiled, handing him the cup. He took it gratefully, though he was giving you the when the hell are you going to explain earlier look as subtlety as he could with Grayson still in the room. 

“Dude, what does your cup even say? They totally spelled your name wrong,” Grayson said, unable to wait any longer for his brother to notice. Ethan held the cup up a bit so he could read the writing on the side.

Uncle Eteeweetee 

“Haha very funny, eteeweetee, you got me.” He rolled his eyes, taking a sip. 

“Wait, what exactly does it say?” You asked. Grayson was giggling beside you.

“It says ‘uncle eteeweetee’, which is just fucking stupid.” He looked a bit peeved, knowing he was missing the joke. “What? What’s so funny about Uncle?” 

“What if I told you that the big news I couldn’t tell you earlier was that you actually are an uncle? Or at least, you will be in about nine months.” Now you were beaming. Ethan figured it out immediately, sitting the coffee cup down.

“You’re joking. No fuckin way, are you joking? You’re pregnant?!” 

You nodded, and before you knew it he had you wrapped up in a hug. You squeezed him back and then let him go to his brother. They held each other tight for a minute, and though their words were a bit muffled you caught the end of it.

“I’m so fuckin’ happy for you bro. You deserve this,” was what Ethan said, and you couldn’t have agreed more. 

february

Oh you were definitely pregnant. Even without the tests, or the doctor’s visit or the missed period, you would have been 100% sure by now. This had become your morning routine, and you hated every minute of it. 

Right around 6am on the dot you’d wake up, a thin sheen of cold sweat on you and a churning in your stomach. You threw yourself onto your feet, running towards the bathroom and immediately hurling up anything you had left in you. Usually it wasn’t much, and that somehow made it worse. Your throat was sore from the bile morning after morning. It usually took you a good twenty minutes to get everything up, and another five after that for your stomach to settle. 

Each morning, at the feeling of you leaving the bed, Grayson was right behind you. He’d hold your hair back with one hand, other hand gentle and soft as they rubbed over your back. You knew how much he hated being around people throwing up, but he never even flinched. 

When your stomach would finally empty, you’d come down off your knees onto your butt, leaning your weight back against him. 

“This shit sucks,” you said one particular morning, fully exhausted.

“I’m sorry baby, I wish I could fix it,” Grayson murmured, kissing your temple. 

“I feel disgusting,” you grumbled, turning a bit and nuzzling into his neck. 

“You wanna shower?” 

Usually, you weren’t a morning shower type of person, but between the vomit and the sweat, it had become normal as well.

“Too tired,” you said, curling up into him. The fatigue was real these days, and you occasionally felt bad for being so lazy. Grayson would have none of it, reminding you that not only were you growing body parts with your body, but you were also still doing more than Ethan was on the daily. 

“I’ll do the work. C’mon pretty girl, let’s get you cleaned up.”

And he really did all the work, from stripping you down to washing your hair and body, then drying you off and handing you a toothbrush. 

“I’ll get some clothes while you brush,” he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he disappeared. You were grateful for the minty taste in your mouth as he came back with a pair of his sweats and a t shirt. You let him pull the shirt over your head before you spoke. 

“I don’t understand how I can be this fucking tired,” you muttered as you put your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself as you stepped into the legs of the pants that Gray was holding out for you.

“Fatigue is really common during the second month, it’s supposed to get better by the third though, so hopefully it won’t last too long,” he offered in reassurance. You smiled at that - he’d been listening to any podcast he could get his hands on related to pregnancy and parenting. It was the cutest thing, and every time you thought about it you started to tear up.

“Hey, hey, why we cryin’? What’s wrong?” His thumbs were wiping at your cheeks - it was like an instinct now since he had to do it at least once a day.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad,” you blubbered, leaning into his shoulder. You felt him chuckle a bit and you crumpled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to. You’re just cute.”

You groaned. “Cute. Right. I’m grumpy, lazy and gross. Not cute.” 

“You’re none of those things. Well, you’re kinda grumpy with Ethan, but so is everyone.”

It was true - you’d been very grouchy lately, especially with Ethan for some reason. The cute things he usually did to make you laugh got under your skin like no other, and you’d snap at him, which would in turn make him sad, which then made you feel guilty and ended in tears every time without fail. Ethan was a great sport about it, always accepting your teary apologies and teasing you nicely about the hormones, but you still hated not feeling in control of your emotions and yourself.

Knowing it would only be worse if you didn’t get any sleep, you stumbled your way to bed and climbed back under the covers. Grayson climbed in next to you, opening his arms so you could lay on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns on your back as you drifted back into exhausted sleep. 

march

You stood in front of the mirror, hand rubbing gently across your belly. There was definitely a bump there starting to form, and it mesmerized you every time you thought about what was within it. It was tiny. Anyone else looking at you wouldn’t notice, or would think it was just a big breakfast. But you knew that it was your baby, growing away. 

And you loved your bump, but Grayson was even more obsessed - any time you were sitting within reach of him his hand was across your stomach. Though he wouldn’t admit it, you knew part of it was protective. He’d become very cautious since you’d found out about your pregnancy, always making sure you were safe, not letting you do anything too ‘strenuous’. You’d had to get him to back off a few times, assuring him that stirring pasta wasn’t going to cause the baby any stress. 

He’d been even more worried when you and the boys took a flight home to Jersey so you could tell Lisa and Cameron the good news. All through the airport he was right next to you, hand around your waist guiding you through the terminals. 

“Grayson, flying is only dangerous if you’re like... super pregnant. Like might-deliver-on-the-plane pregnant. We’re fine.” You reassured him. 

“We?” His face softened at that. It was the first time you’d really referred to the baby and yourself as a unit. It was a nice feeling - you were finally starting to get back to normal, and feeling like yourself. The morning sickness had let up, only about once a week now. Ethan didn’t piss you off any more than normal. You were still a bit weepy, but that was to be expected in some ways. 

The biggest issue now was your cravings. They were so intense, way more captivating than you thought even possible. When one hit, you couldn’t think about anything else. And the worst possible place to get one? A plane.

“Gray. Grayson,” you whispered to him over the hum of the airplane engines.

“Hmm?”

“I want a soft pretzel. Like I need one.”

“Like you want one or you’re craving one?” He’d learned to differentiate between the two with all your wild food preferences these days.

“Craving. Craving so hard.” 

“Well that’s a new one. I brought some of your other cravings just in case, but not gonna lie, didn’t bring a soft pretzel with my snacks. Do you want any of these?” He gave you a sympathetic smile and showed you the stash of snacks he’d brought for the 5 hour flight - lots of the candies you’d been craving, peanut butter, chocolate. 

“Thank you, but for some reason thinking about eating any of that is making me nauseous,” you scrunched up your nose. 

“What!? You ate like 20 twizzlers yesterday alone!” He looked a bit exasperated, but you just laughed and rested your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay baby, not your fault. Guess we’ve got a picky kid. Oops.” 

The rest of the flight went without event, and when you went to go pee after you got off, Grayson found an Auntie Anne’s in the terminal and brought you back the biggest soft pretzel they had. You hummed as you ate it, wiggling a bit in excitement considering you were pretty sure it was the best thing you had ever tasted in your entire life. 

“You’re so fuckin’ cute,” Grayson teased, taking your bag from you so you could fully enjoy your snack as you walked through the airport. 

The drive to the Dolan household was about an hour, and you napped through most of it, head on Grayson’s lap in the backseat - the fatigue was fading, but it wasn’t fully gone. He woke you up gently as Ethan turned into the driveway, and you felt the excitement mounting. Not only were you getting to see Cameron and Lisa, but you were getting to tell them the news. You were finally comfortable with more and more people knowing, though you didn’t want it out on any social media. 

When you came in it was three straight hours of hugs, smiles and stories, and there wasn’t even a lull in the conversation where you could have said something. Besides, this was Grayson’s family, so you wanted him to be able to make the big reveal anyhow. 

He’d decided on a scavenger hunt that Ethan helped him set up; you stayed with the girls and feigned your innocence, which almost backfired completely. 

“You seem different Y/N. Did you get new makeup or something?” Lisa asked, giving you the same suspicious look that Grayson often did.

“Um, yeah, yeah I got a new bronzer that I’m trying out.” You went along with it, hoping that if you somehow looked different she would attribute it to that.

“I thought so. Your skin is glowing!”

“Awe thank you!” You smiled, trying not to seem nervous. You’d heard of mother’s intuition, but damn. Luckily the boys returned then, sending their sister and mom on the hunt around the house. It took about 15 minutes, but finally they ended up with the card that had your most recent ultrasound photo in it. 

Lisa blubbered for a good thirty minutes, all the mixtures of emotions about becoming a grandparent coming out. She held her youngest son close for so long, and you gave them their moment by explaining all your pregnancy woes to Cameron, who was beyond excited to finally become an aunt. 

The trip only lasted a few days, but you enjoyed spending the time with Grayson’s family and watching him relax and recharge. When it was time to go and the boys were loading the rental car, Lisa pulled you aside.

“I know pregnancy can be really hard, so you just call me if you need anything, okay? Any questions, anything you need. I’ll fly out any time you need me.”

“Awe thank you Lisa,” you smiled, giving her another hug.

“No, thank you honey. You’ve made my whole family so happy, I can’t thank you enough.”

april

“I give up. I literally give up, I’m never leaving the house ever again.” You threw the shirt across the room, plopping down on the bed in defeat. Grayson spun his chair around, one ear of his headphones already off. He’d been editing, but heard you grumbling.

“What’s the matter love?”

“None of my clothes fit! I’m huge!” 

“Well first off, you’re not huge. Second, you’re growing a fricking human, so yeah your tummy is gonna get bigger. Do you want me to find you a shirt of mine?” He offered, trying his hardest to console you. You’d been pretty good at avoiding the meltdowns lately, and he wanted to keep that trend going. 

“No. I don’t wanna wear your stuff.”

“Baby. You ask me for my clothes like, every day,” he reminded you.

“Yeah. But I like having the option of wearing my clothes,” you pouted, looking at your discarded top on the ground. 

“Okay, well then why don’t we go shopping tomorrow and get you some new clothes. Okay?” 

“Okay,” you agreed. You didn’t love the idea of having to buy new clothes in bigger sizes, but you knew you’d have to do it eventually. 

“Hey, c’mere,” Gray smiled, patting his thigh. You obliged, climbing onto his lap. His hand went to your bare thighs, rubbing circles. “You’re beautiful, you know that right? Even when you don’t feel like it, I promise you that you are.” 

You blushed at that, knowing better than to argue with him. Instead, you just kissed him, fingers gentle on his cheek. 

“I love you,” you smiled against his lips. 

“I love you more. Why don’t you go take a swim, I’ll come out as soon as I finish this edit.” His suggestion was a very good one - the fourth month of pregnancy was mostly nice, but you were starting to get sore, especially your back and hips. The best relief you could find was in the pool, and you’d never been more thankful to live in California. 

You kissed him one more time before getting up and pulling out a bathing suit. He cheekily watched you change with a few side glances, making you blush even harder. 

The pool water was inviting, and you swam around for a while trying to loosen up your muscles. Then, you climbed onto a float and drifted off into a nap. A nap that was ended quite abruptly by cold water being splashed at you. 

You peeked an eye open and all you saw were red shorts. 

“Rule number one Ethan. Never wake the pregnant lady,” you grumbled.  

“I know I know, but I got you something! Look!” Ethan was beaming when your eyes finally adjusted to the sun. You had to look closely to realize that it was a pool float in his hands. Specifically, it was an avocado pool float.

“Awe, thanks E!” Even if you didn’t really understand the gesture (you had plenty of floats), you still appreciated it. 

“It’s a pregnancy one, see!?” He exclaimed, pointing out the picture on the box. Sure enough, it had a hole in the design. “So once your bump gets like, huge, you can still lay on your tummy and then your bump is like the pit!” 

He had such childish excitement that it was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You could feel the baby fluttering around in your tummy a bit as you giggled - you’d been feeling them move around some lately, though it wasn’t enough for Grayson to feel externally yet. 

“Well, if I try to blow it up I think I’ll pass out, but I wanna see what it looks like!” You grinned. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks, sitting on the edge of the pool and putting his feet in while he unboxed the plastic, finding the plug and beginning to blow it up. 

You watched the process, which took a good while, but it was worth the excitement on his face when he stood up and held the giant avocado up. 

“That thing is huge! How much did it even cost!?” 

Ethan was known to spend too much money on things that no one really needed.

“Doesn’t matter, happy momma happy baby, and since I did it, happy baby means I’m the favorite uncle.” 

“I think you already win favorite uncle E, but I’m sure the baby also loves the float,” you smiled as he blushed. Though he wouldn’t admit it, you could tell he was a bit nervous at the idea of becoming an uncle. Grayson was always the brother who took over when it came to kids, and Ethan felt a bit behind in that department, but you knew he was going to be great.

“Here, come try it out!” 

You waded over to the edge of the pool by Ethan, who was holding the float steady at the edge. You took his other hand and he helped pull you up. And when you laid on your stomach, you realized just how uncomfortable the other float had been.

“Holy shit, this is nice E. Thank you. You should come hang out for a while, I feel like I haven’t seen you in like a week.” 

“Lemme get changed,” Ethan smiled, letting go of the float and heading inside. It wasn’t often that you got to hang out with just Ethan anymore. He was your best friend, and you were grateful for such a strong friendship that had eventually led you to being friends (and then more) with Grayson. It was like having the best brother-sister relationship that you could imagine, with the teasing and the caring perfectly balanced. You were so excited to see him be an uncle to your kid that it wasn’t even funny. 

When he came back in his swim trunks, he had a bottle in his hands. You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Sunscreen, you’re getting pink on your back,” he explained, walking into the water from the stairs and coming over to you. He put some in his hands and starting rubbing it on your back. The groan you let out wasn’t voluntary.

“Ew gross, wrong twin,” he teased. You flipped him off.

“Shut up, my back’s just sore, it feels nice,” you explained, relaxing. 

“Still sore huh? That sucks dude.”

“Yep, you know just trying to make room for a human in here and shit,” you chuckled. He finished putting it all on and stowed the sunscreen on the edge of the pool. The two of you talked for a while, about work and Wakeheart, new video ideas and Ethan begging for the fiftieth time for you to let him buy the baby clothes already. 

But as he was pleading his case for the baby needing a matching outfit to his, he realized that you had drifted off back to sleep. So he pulled the float over to the side of the pool, using one hand to scroll his phone and the other to push and pull it back and forth to create a sort of rocking motion that would keep you asleep. 

When Grayson came out ten minutes later, he was a bit confused at the sight. Ethan immediately turned and put a finger to his lips.

“She’s out,” he explained. Grayson smiled at that - as much shit as he could give his brother sometimes, he really did have the biggest heart.

“Thanks for taking care of her man, I’m done with the edit I can take over,” he offered. Ethan brushed him off.

“Go take a nap or something, I’ve got this.”

Though he would never admit it, he really did like taking care of you. So Grayson let him, going to catch up on some sleep on the couch with a smile on his face.

may

“You okay baby?” 

You frowned, wondering why he’d asked. Then you noticed that your knuckles were white where you were clinging to his hand. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous - it was just another ultrasound scan. Maybe it’s because of what you were finding out.

“I’m alright, just nervous. I can’t believe we’re finally finding out if it’s a boy or a girl.” You brought your other hand to your bump, rubbing gently over it. You already felt connected to the little human inside you, but the thought of knowing something else about them made you feel even closer.

“Then we can finally start shopping,” he smiled, bringing your hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. 

Your OB came in then, ready to begin your scan. You watched in awe as she moved the ultrasound head around, searching until a perfectly clear picture of your baby popped up. You watched their little heart flutter while Grayson watched in awe.

“Everything looks perfect, they’re growing great, got a good amount of fluid in there to swim around in. And if we can get them to turn just a little bit, I should be able to let you know if it’s a little mrs. or mr. in there. Are you all wanting to find out the sex today?” The doctor wasn’t looking at either of you, eyes focused on the screen as she spoke.

“Yeah, we wanna know, if you’re able to see.”

“Alright, well they seem pretty active so we should be able to get a good view here in a minute. Some babies start to wiggle when mama does something, is there anything you do that makes them move around more?”

“They move when I laugh, or when Grayson talks to them.”

Grayson blushed a bit at that. You’d told him over and over that when he talked to your baby, they moved around. He would talk to them every night, hands splayed across your belly, just waiting for some type of kick. And though you could feel them inside, he had yet to feel anything. 

“Why don’t you give that a try Grayson, see if they’ll move,” the doctor encouraged. 

Grayson was obviously nervous to be put on the spot - he was only used to doing this in the comfort of your room at home. He cleared his throat, leaned in close to your belly, and started to speak.

“Hey baby, it’s daddy. I know you’re probably really comfortable just chilling in there right now, but we need you to move just a little bit. Not too much, but maybe just towards me a little bit. I know, I know, it’s a lot of work, but you’re tough, you can do it.” 

You loved the way he talked to your baby, so sweet and adorable. You were enthralled with his words, almost forgetting where you were.

“Well, it looks like you two have a got a major daddy’s girl on your hands,” were the words that pulled you out of your trance. You hadn’t even felt the baby turn. 

“Girl? We’re having a girl?!” Grayson’s eyes were wide, and he had the biggest smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Looks like it. Congratulations guys! I’ll give you guys a minute and go get some of these stills printed, then you all are set to go!” The OB wiped the gel off of your tummy and gave you a warm smile.

As soon as the doctor left, Grayson pumped his fist in the air in excitement.

“I was gonna be happy either way, but I was totally pulling for a girl,” he admitted. He was beaming - you’d always known he wanted a daughter so badly. 

“And apparently she’s already a daddy’s girl. I’m in trouble,” you teased. You held your bump with both hands, looking at it in a whole new light. “Hi baby girl. Momma loves you.” 

june

You knew that this day would be hard; even harder than it had been for Grayson the last few years. So you weren’t all too surprised when you woke up to an empty bed. 

Your back was stiff as you crawled out from under the covers, and you gave yourself some time to stretch and put some sweats on before heading out to the living room. You saw the silhouette of him through the glass doors.

Grayson was in the backyard, sitting on the patio couch, staring out at the view of LA. You decided to give him a few more minutes alone, going to make the both of you a cup of coffee (yours unfortunately decaf). 

You made sure to make a little bit of noise when you opened the door, not wanting to startle him. He turned, relaxing when he realized that it was you. His eyes were puffy and red, and you knew it wasn’t from allergies. 

“Hey,” he said, throat obviously tight. “How’re my girls?”

“We’re alright. Just wanted to come check on you, see if you needed anything.” 

There wasn’t much you could say to make him feel better. Father’s day would always be very bittersweet for him. 

You’d thought about getting him a card, or a small gift that was ‘from the baby’, but you knew that the day would be so laden with emotions that you’d rather not potentially make it worse. 

You passed him the coffee as a comforting gesture, and he gratefully took it.

“I can give you some more alone time if you need, I just wanted to see if you were alright,” you offered, giving him a soft smile. Sometimes he preferred to let his emotions out by himself, and you respected that. 

“Stay please. And thank you, for the coffee.” He patted the seat next to him and you sat down, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He leaned into you, and it wasn’t long until the shaking started. It was like the sobs were being ripped out of him, and it physically pained you to see him hurting. You did all that you could, pressing kisses to his skin and holding him as close as your bump would let you until the tears finally started to let up.

You wiped away what was left on his cheeks when he sat up to get some air, and he laid the weight of his head in your palm, obviously exhausted.

“I just miss my dad,” were his only words, and you swore you felt your heart crack right down the middle.

“I know baby. I’m so sorry.” 

“I have so many questions for him, about being a dad, and raising a daughter. And I know he would have been so excited to be a grandpa. I wonder if he would have wanted her to call him grandpa, or poppy. And now she won’t even have one,” he said, a fresh batch of tears coming to the surface. 

“He’s still her grandpa baby. I know he’s not here, and god I wish he was. But she’s gonna know about her poppy Sean, and what an amazing person he was. We’re gonna tell her stories, and show her pictures, and she’s gonna see all of his best qualities in you. You’re going to be an amazing dad, because you had an amazing example.” The words came spilling out of you, just like the tears came spilling down for both of you. 

Coffee cups discarded somewhere close by, he took your hips in his hands and pulled you onto his lap. He buried his face in your neck and you held him tightly, running your fingers through his hair. When he moved up to your shoulder, you felt him press a few kisses to your skin - a silent thank you. 

“You really think I’m gonna be a good dad? You’re not just saying that?” His voice was muffled against your skin. 

“I honestly think that you’re going to be the best. And I’m not just saying that, I swear.”

“But why? Why do you have so much faith in me? I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Neither do I. I’ve got motherly instinct to go on, and some babysitting, and that’s it. And I know you think you have no idea how to take care of a kid, but I know that you’re going to love her, and you’re going to protect her, and those are the most important things you can do. You already love her so much,” you explained.

There was an odd sensation in your tummy just then, and you gasped at it. It was new, a slow dramatic motion, and as you looked down you could actually see your skin moving. The movement tracked down the top of your bump and towards your belly button, which was pressed against Grayson. You didn’t have to ask - you knew he had felt it.

“Was that...”

“That was all her,” you assured him. You recognized the feeling as her stretching, but you realized quickly that it was the first time he’d actually felt her move. His hands moved to spread across your bump, the sadness that had been on his face now replaced with awe.

You both watched closely, waiting to see if she would do it again. You felt it first.

“She’s moving, she’s moving again, right here.” You took his hand and moved it to the right place, just in time for him to feel her kick. He looked up to you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit! I actually felt that! Does she do that all the time?” 

“She’s been doing it a lot more lately. Guess she’s trying to make more room. I swear, she really does move around a lot more when you’re talking to her.”

Something about his voice made her decide to do flips all the time. Most the time it was fine, though sometimes it would be a bit sharp if her little feet or elbows found a rib. You’d never tell him that though - watching his face light up was worth any kick.

“Hey baby girl. Whatcha doin’ in there, huh? You showin’ off?” His voice softened every time he spoke to her, and your heart softened with it. On cue, she kicked again, right into his hand. 

“No way! That’s so cool! Does it hurt?”

“Not unless she catches an organ or a bone,” you teased, loving how excited he was, and grateful that he was finally getting to experience this. It went on for another hour, both of you enthralled to see how she moved. 

“I think she’s saying happy father’s day,” you said at one point, not thinking it through. But to your relief Grayson was beaming proudly at your words. 

july

You spotted the glitter from across the store, and immediately started shaking your head. 

“No. Absolutely not,” you protested as the boys approached you. Whatever it was in their hands, you weren’t going to let them buy it.

“But baby, look. It has ruffles on the butt,” Grayson explained, holding it up. It was a bright pink glittery onesie, that did indeed have ruffles on the butt of it. 

“I am not putting my daughter in that.”

“I mean, Gray and I both want it. So technically you’re outnumbered,” Ethan countered, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well I’m growing her butt with my own body, so technically I get to decide that I’m not putting ruffles on it,” you mocked, eyes narrowing. He backed off, knowing better than to mess with you. 

“What if we got one that wasn’t so bright? They have non-glittery ones,” Grayson offered. You always softened up when he suggested things, and looking at how small the newborn clothes looked in his hands had you in a puddle. 

“Non glitter would be... better.” You said, still a bit suspicious. 

It wasn’t that you were totally against girly clothes - you just thought all the baby boy clothes were so much cuter. Who wanted unicorn onesies when you could get some with jungle animals, or sea creatures? You’d found yourself wandering over to the boys section more and more, picking out little hoodies and things with simple patterns. 

Grayson took you to the ruffle butt section, and you had to admit the ones in more neutral colors were quite cute. You picked out a few with him, and then it was like his eyes glazed over. 

“Oh my god,” he said, head falling back a bit before coming back up to a pout he only got when he saw something too adorable. You followed him over to the sundress section where Ethan was already holding up a tiny little dress with sunflowers on it. Even you had to admit, it was adorable.

“I love it, but she’s due in September. I don’t want her to be cold,” you sighed, hand going to your tummy. You’d started to feel more and more protective of her recently. 

“We’ll buy her a little jacket or something.” 

You weren’t surprised that the next 30 minutes (and $300 most likely) were spent in the dress section. You decided to let the boys have their fun - you knew you’d be the one dressing her more often than not, so you could put her in whatever you wanted. 

When you got back home, you headed to the nursery, which was really starting to come together. The boys were putting in so much work to make it perfect, and it made you so happy. There was a crib that Grayson had built, and tested about twenty times as well. You’d assured him that it didn’t need to hold 200 pounds, but he was very proud that it passed the test of him laying in it.

“What if she gets scared and needs me to sleep in there with her!?” was his main argument for that one, and you couldn’t fault him. 

They’d painted the walls a dark gray with a few pops of light purple. There was a changing table and dresser built by Grayson as well, though right now you were focused on the closet as you put her clothes away. 

“I can’t believe she’s gonna be here in like, two months,” Grayson mumbled as he hung a tiny dress up on a hanger. He was moving the delicate straps by pinching them with his fingers, which was somehow more adorable than the dress itself. 

“I know, it’s crazy. Not gonna lie though, this bump is getting a little heavy. I wouldn’t mind her getting here a little sooner,” you sighed, leaning slightly to try to relieve some pressure on your back. Standing all day in the stores had your ankles swollen and your back screaming. 

“Hey, I got this. Why don’t you go lay down, I’ll give you a massage when I’m done okay?” 

You balked a bit at that. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him - he was perfectly capable of unpacking baby clothes. But your nesting instincts were coming in hard these days, and you were very particular about anything nursery or baby related. 

“I...”

“Color order, and separate it by type of clothes and sizes, I know. Onesies in the drawer, plain on the left and cute on the right. Plus, you’re probably going to rearrange it all next week anyways.” Grayson reassured you, checking all the boxes you didn’t even have to say.

“You’re the best,” you smiled, standing on your tip toes to kiss him - the bump was getting in the way these days. 

“I know,” he joked. “Now go lay down.”

You did as he said, and he was unsurprised to find you asleep in bed when he got back a mere twenty minutes later. The sight of you curled up on your side, cradling your bump, made him smile. 

He helped get you changed into pajamas - you grumbled a bit as he moved your limbs, but you didn’t wake all the way up. 

Then, he moved to your ankles, rubbing at the puffiness to try and get it to reabsorb - he’d looked up the best massages for pregnant women months ago, but they were really starting to come in handy now. By the time he got to your back, you were humming at the sensation, somewhere between dreams and bliss. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled. Grayson wasn’t sure if you even knew you said it.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your bump. “Anything for my girls.”

august

You’d resorted to pool noodle violence, seeing that you were quite slow even in the water. You brought it down as hard as you could on Ethan first, then on Grayson. 

“Enough!” you yelled, exasperated. The boys stopped in their tracks - they’d been wrestling and bickering about something for a while now, and you were annoyed. Not because they were arguing, but because the baby was doing all sorts of flips and kicks to the sounds of their voices. She had always responded to Grayson’s voice the most, but apparently Ethan’s was similar enough that he got the same response. Which meant them arguing was actually quite painful.

“If this baby kicks me in the ribs one more time because of you two, I swear,” you grumbled, rubbing over your sore stomach. 

“Sorry, I keep forgetting,” Ethan apologized, giving you a look of sympathy. 

“Sorry baby,” Grayson sighed, coming over to the edge of the pool where you were. It didn’t matter what you did these days - you were just uncomfortable. Your bump was huge, and you felt like a whale day in and day out. It was making you grumpy, and you hated it.

“No, I’m sorry. She just won’t stop kicking. Like girlfriend, you’ve gotta chill out,” you gestured to your bump, making both of them chuckle.

“You be nice to your momma, so that she’ll be nice to your uncle E,” Ethan said to your bump. “Oh my god, I wonder if she’s gonna get us confused.”

“No. She’s gonna know exactly who I am,” Grayson argued, a bit peeved. 

“What if she likes me better?” Ethan prodded, trying to get more of a reaction as he often did. 

“Hey. She’s still trying out for the world cup over here, whisper if you’re gonna talk,” you grumbled, pressing on the side of your bump to try and soothe the pain. Grayson’s hand replaced yours, rubbing soft soothing circles. 

“I bet she’s kicking cause she thinks you’re annoying, like her dad does,” Grayson retorted, smirking a bit. It would have been a good comeback if he didn’t have to whisper it.

“I’m gonna be her favorite, cause I get to be the fun uncle,” Ethan countered quietly with a wicked smile. 

“You both have useless nipples, therefore I’m pretty sure I’m going to be the favorite for a good 6 months at least,” you chimed in, defeating both of their arguments. “Now then, I’m getting pruny, I’m going in.”

Before you could protest, Grayson had already pushed himself up and out at the edge of the pool, coming to help you up. He wasn’t letting you out of his sight for even a second these days. He was afraid you were going to go into labor and he wasn’t going to be there. 

The closer your due date got, the less worried you were. It confused Gray - he figured you’d be anxious about the delivery, the labor, all of it. But you were just excited to meet your little girl. You both hadn’t picked out a name yet - all you knew was that you wanted it to be strong, and have meaning. You were going to wait until you saw her face to fully decide.

Caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize that you’d made the turn into the nursery instead of into your room. It was a bit hard to believe that you were going to have a baby of your own living in here in just a few short weeks. 

“Do you wanna go back through your hospital bag and make sure we have everything?” Grayson’s voice came from behind you. 

You shook your head with a soft smile. 

“Oh. Do you wanna rearrange again?” You could tell he was a bit more hesitant on that one - you’d asked him to move the furniture around at least twice already this week. You couldn’t help the hormones, but you did feel bad for him. 

“No, I think it’s perfect. Just picturing her in here,” you explained, taking his hands in yours. 

“How are you not freaking out? Are you not nervous at all?” 

“A little I guess. But I’m more excited,” you smiled.

“I’m terrified,” Grayson admitted a bit sheepishly. 

“What’s got you so worried?” You wanted him to talk about it, mainly so you could try to figure out a way to help.

“I just want everything to go smoothly. My delivery didn’t go well, and I don’t want anything to go wrong with ours. Plus, I really, really, don’t wanna see you in pain. That’s gonna be really hard.” 

“I’m pretty tough,” you teased, trying to address the only thing that you could actually comfort him about. 

“Hell of a lot tougher than me, I know that for sure. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For carrying our kid. I haven’t thanked you enough for the sacrifice of it. You’ve given your body up for so long, so thank you.” He was looking down at your bump now, hands rubbing over the skin. 

“Best thing we’ve ever done,” you smiled, pulling him closer to kiss him, though you both had to lean a bit. “Though I’m not gonna lie, it’ll be nice when I can actually kiss you normally again,” you teased.

“I’m pretty sure the baby will be stealing most of the kisses from me,” Gray said. 

“Not all of them,” you assured him, leaning to kiss him again.

september 3rd, 3am

Grayson had passed behind you at least ten times. You watched him in the mirror with a bit of a smirk. You were brushing your teeth, breathing deeply through your nose as a contraction started. 

“Are they close together? Oh god, I’m supposed to be timing them, shit, okay, hold on,” he mumbled, heading back towards the room again. You caught his hand, holding him there while you spit out your toothpaste and rinsed your mouth.

“Baby. Relax.”

“Relax? How are you so calm right now!? Aren’t you like, contracting?” His eyes were wide, panicked. You knew the only way to get him calm was to stay calm yourself.

“I mean yeah,” you shrugged. Right now, it was no worse than bad period cramps. You weren’t going to freak out - waking up to your water breaking wasn’t exactly your plan, but you were more excited than anything. 

Grayson packed the car while you brushed your hair, and he came back in to walk you to the car. He held your hand for the whole drive, bringing your intertwined digits up to kiss the back of your hand any time you tensed up with a contraction. There was luckily no traffic at 3am, and the drive to the hospital was easy enough. 

Ethan was at home, in charge of letting everyone know that it was time, and getting Lisa and Cameron when they made it into town. So it was just you and Grayson, and you loved it, even though he was freaking out. 

You got checked in and taken up to your room. Grayson was at your bedside, hand in yours from the moment you got settled with your IV. The nurse was sweet as she came in to give you your first exam. It wasn’t comfortable, but you hadn’t expected it to be.

“Well momma, look at you! Already 4 centimeters dilated! If you keep up this pace, you’re gonna be holding that baby girl in no time! Around what time did you say that your water broke?”

“Around 2:45 this morning,” you said.

“Wow. You really are moving along quickly, especially for a first time momma. I’ll come check you again in about a half hour, and we’ll see how you’re feeling okay?” 

“Sounds good, thank you,” you offered her a smile as she headed out. 

When you looked back over, Grayson’s eyes were on your face. 

“Looks like things are gonna go pretty smooth,” you wiggled your eyebrows at him, just trying to make him laugh. He smiled, shaking his head. 

“You’re insane,” was all he could say.

“Hey, I told you I was tough! And I’m sure it’s going to get a lot worse from here,” you reminded him. 

“I was fully prepared for you to be screaming in pain. And you’re just here, hanging out like nothing’s happening!” He was exasperated. 

“Screaming isn’t really my style. Well, I guess it is sometimes,” you winked at him. 

“You are not making sex jokes right now.” He had the biggest smile now, which was all you wanted. Another contraction hit then, low in your back. You sucked in a deep breath, squeezing on Grayson’s hand as it came through. You breathed your way through it, trying to get a rhythm down that you knew you could keep going. They’ll pass. They come and then they pass was going to be your mindset for the rest of the time. 

And it worked. Each time a contraction came you closed your eyes and breathed deep, focusing on the sensation of the air coming in your nose and out over your lips. The only other sensation you were willing to acknowledge was Grayson’s hand in yours, his lips on your forehead, the sweet encouragements he was whispering in your ear. 

And they got worse. Much worse. The nurse came and checked you often, reassuring you that things were moving well. It was a few hours later and you were already at 8 centimeters. 

“I haven’t seen a first time mom move this quickly through labor in a long, long time. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” the doctor said when she checked you. 

“But that’s okay right? It’s not bad that it’s going fast right?” Grayson was immediately concerned.

“No, no problems at all. Less time in labor means less stress on mom and baby, so better all around. You’re a natural Y/N, I’ll give you that,” she smiled. “I’d say we’re gonna be pushing in the next hour or so.”

“Sounds great.” You gave her a soft smile, trying with all your might to be pleasant. Your hips were on fire, like you’d been holding a wide squat for the last 3 hours. You knew it was just everything widening, but damn did it hurt. 

“You’re doing amazing baby, you’re so strong.” Grayson’s words came at the right time. 

“I think I’m ready to be done now,” you laughed a bit, and it was the first time you’d felt any self pity the whole time. But you were tired, and you knew that pushing was supposed to be the worst part of the whole thing. You weren’t sure you were as ready for that as you thought you were. 

“I know baby, I wish I could make it better. But you’re gonna have your daughter in your arms so soon, and it’s all gonna be worth it,” he reminded you. His face was laced with sympathy as he leaned in to kiss you. 

It was enough encouragement to help you through, though you weren’t as quiet as you had been. Each contraction was longer, and closer together now. You were groaning a bit at the pain, trying to keep it under control as you had before, but it was getting harder. 

The time crawled by, and you shed a few happy tears when the doctor came back in and told you that it was time for you to push. 

It was a bit of a blur from there, all guttural instinct and people counting and breathing. The only anchor you had was Grayson, who kept himself in your view the whole time, encouraging you and letting you know you were close, that it was almost over. 

And then you heard it. A loud cry, a bit of a gurgle at first, and then clear as day.

Your baby girl was here. 

The nurses were wiping her off just a tiny bit, and then she was there in your arms, on your chest. 

“Hi baby girl, hi sweetheart,” you cooed, wrapping her up in your arms. The tears were streaming now, and you looked up at Grayson. He was crying too, a look of pride and happiness that you’d never seen on his face before. 

“Congratulations, she’s beautiful! Dad, you wanna cut the cord?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Grayson’s voice was rough as he moved to help, cutting the cord where the doctor’s clamped it off. You were mesmerized by your little angel’s face - she had Grayson’s nose and lips, you could tell already. 

“Hi pretty girl, it’s momma. Welcome to the world,” you said, running a finger over her tiny nose. 

“Alright momma, you catch your breath, we’re gonna get her cleaned up and swaddled okay?” The nurse gave you the warning before going to take her off your chest. You let her, and then you looked at Grayson. He was obviously torn, looking between you and your daughter. 

“Go, go with her,” you encouraged him. You relaxed back into the bed, body spent entirely, but eyes wide open as you watched what was unfolding, trying to ignore everything that was happening with you, from delivering the placenta to the clean up. 

They weighed her first - 6 pounds and 2 ounces - and then you watched as they wrapped her up and put a tiny hat on her head. The nurse turned and placed her in Grayson’s arms. His eyes went wide for a moment in nervous panic, and then he settled as she fit perfectly in his arms. His tears flowed freely as he looked down at her in awe.

“Hi precious. It’s daddy, yeah, it’s daddy,” he cooed, and you swore you’d never been more in love with him in your whole life. He walked slowly back over to you, leaning down and lowering her back into your arms. You scooted over as best you could, and Grayson got the hint, helping you move over with his free arm and climbing into the bed next to you. 

You took her in your arms like you’d done it a thousand times before. She was peaceful there on your skin, content and happy. Her eyes opened a bit as you held her close, Grayson’s hand behind her head. 

“She’s perfect. You did so good,” Grayson praised, running a thumb over her soft hair.

Gazing at her face, you knew that the name you’d secretly been considering was perfect. 

“Bailey. I wanna name her Bailey. After you. And I want her middle name to be Shawn, after her poppy. We can spell it s-h-a-w-n, or s-e-a-n, either way,” you said, looking up at Grayson.

His tears were enough of an answer. 

“Bailey Shawn Dolan. I love it. It’s perfect,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. You weren’t sure how long you sat there with them. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that there was much to come. Ethan, and Lisa and Cameron would be there soon. There would be more nurses, a lactation specialist, doctors. But right now, all you could do was watch little Bailey breathe, and be grateful for the perfect little family that you had. 

[writerwrites]

Yuánfèn | 04

Ch. 4: La Douleur Exquise: “The pain of still caring for someone that you know you can never have.”

Summary: When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Chapter Word Count: 3.7k Chapter Warnings: Slow burn, grief, light cursing, light angst

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Complete Masterlist

I’m not going to cross a line. Steve said it to himself every morning in Spain, every time he looked in the mirror in the bathroom or caught himself staring at all the pictures he’d stayed to help you scan. Even as he carried a handful of boxes you were willing to pack back to the Quinjet he kept on saying it over and over in his head. Then, back to you and the words would fade to the back of his mind. At the slightest glance across a room, the hint of a smile on your lips when a memory brought happiness, and the way you clung to him so tightly when a memory brought pain. Just another day, she still needs you. She shouldn’t have to do this alone. A week later and a day became days and then he decided he would leave when the team called him for extraction.

With a book in hand, Steve climbed into the bed while you took a shower, donning his last clean undershirt and the same sweatpants he wore the night before. He was about to make a joke about the bed smelling like them and soon dirty laundry when you spoke first, saying just his name. His eyes were on the book, a Spanish translation of Homer’s Odyssey, flipping through the pages to find his spot when his clear blue eyes looked up and met yours, soft with a hint of something you couldn’t read. Wrapping your arms around yourself you stood at the edge of the bed, digging your nails into your arms. “I think I want to go home tomorrow. Thinking about what you said, about it being a part of what I have left of my family… You’re right, that I could keep this place and it wouldn’t be a financial burden if I put it on AirBnB or something similar.” Steve reached out in silence to comfort you as you spoke, doing his best to respectfully keep his eyes on yours and not the shirt and leggings that clung to your damp skin. “I emailed the lawyer about what I would need to do to make that happen and he said he’d take care of it.”

Your hand slipped into his, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze as Steve ghosted his thumb across your knuckles. “Even if it’s just to buy a little more time for a big decision, I think that’s a good choice.” He watched you, those gears turning like your mind and emotions needed to catch up to your surroundings, always in two places at once. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Slowly, you let go of his hand and climbed onto the bed, but you didn’t immediately lay down. “My hair’s still a little wet. You’ll freeze.”

“I’m a lot tougher than I look.” Steve laughed, thinking about all the times your head had tilted just a little to the side as you looked up to him and said that he was full of surprises, wondering if you were about to say it again. You seemed to be mulling it over and he found himself eager to put the book down and pull you into that usual position where you somehow managed to fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and his side. “C’mon, let’s get some sleep. I promise I won’t melt.”

The way you bit your lip as you cautiously closed the space between the two of you and curled into his chest as you had every night made Steve’s heart race. Your voice was a soft whisper of acknowledgment before going quiet again, “The Wizard of Oz.” Somehow, knowing it was the last time perhaps, you hesitated to let yourself immediately give in to the exhaustion in your bones. He noticed it, the little scrunch of your nose and the way you fought back a yawn as you hummed out his name to get his attention from behind the book one more time, “Steve.”

He smiled as he looked down at you but his eyebrows furrowed in surprise, just a little, when you hesitated to speak again, so he tried to coax it out of you, “Comfy?”

With a nod the yawn finally escaped you with the question you’d been holding back, “Could you read it aloud until I fall asleep?”

It wasn’t what he’d expected you to say and he hesitated, “You sure? I don’t want to butcher the language and you take offense.”

“I’m tougher than I look.” It was said in such a teasing tone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, cheeks pink with embarrassment. The pair of you held each other in silence for a moment, a mixture of identical thoughts and emotions. If this was the last night together, was this an unceremonious way to end it? Was this banter, flirting, or a bit of both?

His fingers started drawing their way up and down your back as he broke the silence and began to read aloud, slowly processing the foreign language and what was happening in the story. A part of him thought about the journey home tomorrow and what both of you would be like when you were back in the familiar setting of New York. He thought about you alone with your plants and fish in your small apartment, a few boxes commemorating what had been his first real pocket of happiness since he came out of the ice. “How am I going to fall asleep without you when we’re back in the city?”

The question had passed his lips before he could stop himself, his own tired voice deep and raspy with anxiety he didn’t realize he was harboring until that moment. Steve’s muscles went tight, book unmoving from his face as he frantically tried to find the sentence he’d just read aloud. Then, just as his panic was building, you did something you’d never done before; your hand released the bundle of his shirt and brushed over the muscles of his stomach and sides. Taking a cautious breath he let himself pay attention to the noises of the room and the house. Your pulse and breathing were steady, you’d once again fallen fast asleep against him, and for now, the question was left unanswered.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that Tony was the last person to show up for the scheduled check in once you were settled back in at work. He made sure to push it back and reschedule until it was about ten minutes before you were about to leave. Your head was in a fog, three nights back and you hadn’t been able to sleep. The exhaustion to caffeine ratio was starting to get precarious and you felt almost certain that you would finally fall asleep when you got home this time, regardless of the racing thoughts that seemed to start up just as your head hit the pillow.

Unceremoniously entering the office without a single knock, the billionaire sat on the arm of the loveseat that drank in the light from the window. It was a cozy piece of furniture you’d insisted on and it looked wholly out of place in the Tower with your postcard worthy view of the city. You looked up from your desk, tablet already ready. “Everything sorted out in Spain, Doc?” He asked with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow, but Tony didn’t give you a chance to answer. His hands were clasped in his lap like he was about to play shrink himself and he let out a huff to begin. “I know you left worried about me but don’t be. I’m perfectly fine, better than fine actually.” Your mouth bobbed open to protest, but he waved you off and kept talking. “I’m going to prove it to you too. We’re having a little celebration tonight, just to celebrate the return of our team's favorite medical professional and a successful mission.” You didn’t need to ask if you’d have a say or if small really meant small, not that you needed to. He was up and headed out the door before you could even remark that parties to drink one’s way through a mental health crisis wasn’t exactly convincing. “See you at eight!”

You were half-tempted to shout for him to come back or you’d call Pepper, but his voice echoed from the hallway at the next person he was telling about the party and you shook your head. There truly was no point in bickering with Tony. He was the unrelenting sort that followed through on whatever he set his mind to regardless of the opinions of others, except for Pepper. JARVIS was already talking to you about adding the event to your schedule and chattering about traffic calculations and nearby shops to buy appropriate attire and makeup for the event. In a huff you waved off the voice of the A.I. with a quick, “Thanks, JARVIS.”

It was five minutes to eight when you heard the elevator chime on your abandoned level of the Tower. As you looked at your reflection in the full length mirror in your office, leaning this way and that in the newly purchased cocktail dress that felt fitting for a cool May evening in New York City, you really took a chance to admire the simple but elegant dress in your favorite color. Yet, with every approaching footstep, you worried it was not glamorous or form fitting enough for a Stark Industries event, and you found yourself tempted to put on the dirty scrubs and run home. With those intrusive thoughts, you realized that no Avengers lie in any of the rooms needing care and immediately your chest tightened anticipating the worst as you clutched the closed tube of mascara in your right hand like it was a knife. Then you heard his voice, “Y’know, in the military they taught us that if you’re on time you’re late.” Steve tapped lightly on the door and waved his hand in. “May I come in?”

Chucking the makeup at your purse that sat open with your scrubs on the couch, you tried to act natural despite being all too aware of this being the first time the Avenger you were harboring a slight crush on, albeit one you weren’t ready to admit to yourself, would see you in a full face of makeup. Your rattled nerves and confused emotions left you stammering along to the cadence of your rapid pulse. “Sure, yeah, of course.”

He spun in gracefully, making you realize he’d had his back to the door just in case you weren’t decent. His mouth fell open and you realized yours had too. The blue button up made it impossible to glance at him and not look right into his bright blue eyes. Immediately, you felt like you were back in Mallorca, staring at him across a dinner table, blue skies and blue water bringing you a pocket of peace in the sadness that had threatened to consume you. Before you could get lost in the not-so-distant memory, Steve broke the silence. “That dress didn’t make it to Mallorca.”

“It’s new. I didn’t think I really had anything appropriate, but I’ve also never been invited to one of these things before.” It was true, in three years Tony had never acknowledged you in the same way he praised Dr. Banner or Dr. Cho, not that you wanted that kind of recognition. “I’m hoping it’s under the radar enough where I won’t stick out.”

“You two ready to go in there?” A masculine, vaguely familiar voice called from the hall just before Steve could protest- or at least it seemed like he was going to.

Steve nodded toward the door and you followed, only to find Sam Wilson in the hall. “As happy as I am to see you again, Sam, I think this is a sign that Tony really downplayed the size of the get together tonight.”

“Y’think?” Sam winked. “Don’t worry, we can stick to the outer limits, make them come to us.”

His eyes looked tired, painfully similar to yours, and you wanted to say you missed him but his hand was on your lower back encouraging you to walk into the elevator before him. In an attempt to calm down your nerves, you stayed facing the back corner of the lift, distracting yourself by focusing on the texture of the dress’ material between two of your fingers. Though you swore you could feel the two men staring at you as the numbers climbed a few floors higher, you didn’t turn around. Steve’s hand reached for yours and you took your anchor without hesitation. The pair of them started talking and then the doors chimed, opening to a heavy chatter and music. To your surprise he didn’t let go when you stepped out, looking back at you just for a moment to catch you mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ and he didn’t pull away or pull you closer as you held his hand but walked a step behind him and Sam.

Through the crowd full of strangers, you moved nearly undetected behind the taller men. Anyone that looked in your direction only gave you a fleeting glance before looking back to the Avengers. It wasn’t until the first larger gaggle stopped to greet Steve and ask who Sam was that Steve gave your hand a gentle squeeze and you both let go, fingertips tugging at each other as you slipped away from the crowd. You didn’t look back, feeling eyes on you and wondering if they were Steve’s because you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge that anyone had noticed you or the innocent hand holding.

Natasha found you after a while, two flutes of champagne in hand, as your eyes moved through the ever-growing crowd of unfamiliar but picture-perfect faces. You took one with a grateful smile, “Oh, look at you, Natasha! You look like one of those classic movie starlets. Trying to impress someone tonight?”

With a little wink and a sip of her champagne, she sat next to you. “Don’t drink it all. Tony’s speech is coming and I suspect it will be brief but grandiose. Maria told me there was a bit of a pissing contest between Stark and Thor tonight. Tony and Bruce got into it while you were gone.” She gestured over to the bar where the Asgardian towered over your boss, the pair of them laughing between tight smiles. “They love each other, but they love teasing each other a little more, I think. I have to wonder where we’d all be if it wasn’t for Steve.”

You followed her gaze to the tall blonde, laughing with a smile so big that his eyes were practically closed as his right hand clutched his side. Even with the room so loud you knew exactly what that laugh sounded like and you smiled behind your drink. The man was a magnet and yet you felt Natasha’s gaze on you, knowing full well the spy was trying to read what was going on in your head. For the first time in the entire time of knowing Tony Stark, you were grateful for his little interruption. “Good evening, I wanted to welcome you to Stark Tower after another successful mission. We can and do call it a success thanks to the great mind of Dr. Cho and our residential medic, and the skills of the team under superior leadership.”

With the microphone in one hand, Tony used his free hand to gesture to the stunning doctor at his side who had printed the patch that saved Clint’s life. You felt your throat tighten with embarrassment as he neither used your name nor gestured in your direction, instead discussing the achievement of the technology that saved an Avenger. As an introvert, it was always a bit of a mixture of emotions to both go around unnoticed and to be called out. Natasha clapped and you understood her gratefulness, Dr. Cho had saved Clint, but there was no familiar anchor to get you out of your thoughts. Tony continued, but your skin tingled with nerves and your muscles ached with exhaustion, all while your mind raced telling you to leave. Practically turning off your ears, the speech ended without any further acknowledgement of your work, time at the company, and certainly no mention of your name.

Natasha was soon pulled away and bit by bit the growing crowd moved around until your thoughts weren’t the only thing suffocating you. Downing the last of your champagne, you got up and moved around the room trying to calm your nerves and a few drinks later decided it was best to leave. After all, most of your night had been spent alone, apologizing for taking up space at the bar or a couch and vacating the space to a group that knew each other well. Climbing the short staircase toward the elevator, one hand clinging to the railing as you kept your foggy head down, you realized you were behind Steve and Sam.

“It sounds like a hell of a fight. Sorry I missed it”

“If I had known it was going to be a firefight I absolutely would have called.” Steve was being genuine and you smiled. Too buzzed not to eavesdrop, you recalled the same tone used on you in Mallorca. Chalking up the drinks and singledom as the reason you were lamenting your trip away, you managed to bite your tongue.

“I’m not actually sorry, I’m just trying to sound tough.” Sam laughed softly as they stopped at the landing overlooking the party, elevator doors behind them and your chance to escape. “I’m very happy chasing cold leads on our missing person case. Avenging is your world, and your world is crazy.”

“Be it ever so humble.” You looked back at them as you thumbed the elevator’s button a few more times than necessary. Having never heard Steve talk about Stark Industries and the Avengers’ lifestyle in any sort of negative light, it caught you by surprise.

They went quiet for a moment and you kept your eyes forward on the elevator doors. “You find a place in Brooklyn yet?”

“I don’t think I can afford a place in Brooklyn.” Steve confessed and your eyebrows drew together in confusion. Any place worth living in New York was expensive, sure, but you couldn’t picture him making that bad of a salary as Stark’s right hand when you were making more than you ever would in a hospital or private practice.

Hearing the rustle of keys behind you, you welcomed the chime of the elevator doors hoping to escape unscathed without your liquor-laced tongue embarrassing you. You saw Sam smile at Steve. “Well, home is home, y’know.” Steve nodded in agreement, but his gaze was still toward the crowd below. “Hold the elevator, Doc.”

You hadn’t even noticed that Sam saw you, but if he did then you had no doubt Steve had too. Stepping into the elevator you held the ‘doors open’ button for Sam as you fought to not stare at Steve. “I thought the phrase was home is where the heart is?”

When Steve turned around your eyes immediately met his and slowly your faces mirrored in soft smiles. Internally, you were scolding your lack of self control. “I’m sorry I never escaped the crowd to get a chance to-”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted him quickly as Sam stood between you both cross armed and watching the interaction. “I haven’t slept since we got back and I’m just tired and boring… extra boring really because I’ve had champagne.” Waving off Steve’s apology with rambling as you let go of the button, forcing Sam to get in when the doors moved.

Sam gave Steve a nod goodnight and Steve leaned following the closing doors, “Why haven’t you been… umm, I’ll text.”

With panicked nodding you shouted a quick, “Night,” and the second the doors closed you hid your face in your palm and exhaled, “Shit. Shit, shit, shitty shit. Shit!”

It wasn’t until the elevator still wasn’t moving and then filled with Sam’s laughter that you remembered you weren’t alone. “Did you just realize you were into him?”

Your eyes went wide as you reached around him and hit your office’s floor on the panel, wondering both if he was right and if it was that obvious. The thought itself was quickly rejected, “I think anyone with half a brain cell is into him. Like you said, avenging is his world and his world is crazy.” Saying it stung was an understatement, like you were taking off the rose tinted glasses on your time in Mallorca. A little choked up, you mumbled, “What’s the point in wanting someone you can’t have?”

“Yet here you are, wanting him, right?” Sam leaned over and hit the button for the parking deck. “Does this thing usually run this slow?”

“JARVIS? What’s the hold up?” Slumping against the wall of the elevator you looked over Sam, the alcohol buzzing through your system giving you enough liquid courage to ask, “So, are you into him too?”

With a laugh he shook his head no, “We were both playing wingman for each other tonight. Steve meant what he said. He was upset about never escaping the fan club to get back to you, and that’s on me.”

You were about to scoff, but there was a rumble in the elevator, the sound of metal and something clunking around in the empty chamber beneath the elevator below you. Your eyes went wide and the lights flickered before the elevator went dark and began to free fall.

A/N: Thank you for catching another chapter of my little slow burn series! I’m missing Mallorca already. I hope you don’t mind my taking an extra Sunday to focus on getting this chapter right for you all. Do you think Reader and/or Steve will end up back in Mallorca again? Now that they’re both coming to some terms with there being a spark between them, will Ultron crashing the party will it bring them closer together or drown them in work?

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​​​​

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added either to the series or to one of my other tag lists.

[sgtbradfords]

If you’re still taking prompts for Chenford I’d love “I really need you.” or « I don’t love you »💔

Ok anon, I hope you’re ready cause this is a DOOSY. I would call this an AU that takes place after 3x01.

WARNING: possible alcohol abuse, possible drug abuse, and possible suicidal tendencies. There is fluff but due to these warnings I am inserting a Read More link in case this is not someone’s cup of tea. 

Lucy Chen had gotten good at hiding it until one day she didn’t. She could flawlessly cake on the concealer to hide the dark bags under her eyes and make it look natural, she could survive off a can of Bang or the strongest, darkest cup of coffee you could put in her hand. The only thing she couldn’t do? Was hide from her demons, because they will always catch up to her no matter how fast she runs.

She told him she was fine when they went to the Prison to visit with Rosalind Dryer, that she could handle it, that if she ‘could not handle dealing with Rosalind in the cage she shouldn’t be a cop’. She told him she was fine when they got back into the shop, that what that monster said didn’t affect her. She told him she was fine when they got off shift, that she was going to go home and have a large glass of wine. She told him, but she was everything but fine.

Tim Bradford had just fallen asleep, staying up later than usual knowing he didn’t have to work the next day. He got home as the sun set, letting Kojo out to run the backyard as he made chicken carbonara for dinner. He ate in-front of the TV, watching as the LA Kings pulled off a big overtime win to give them three points versus the Anaheim Ducks, pushing them closer to a chance to secure a spot for the Stanley Cup Playoffs. He during intermissions he worked on cleaning his house, threw a tennis ball around for Kojo and got ready for bed. His brain had finally relented from his thoughts, allowing him peace as he dozed off, only to be woken by the sound of his charging phone buzzing on the nightstand.  He ignored it as it stopped vibrating, only to begin again.

He sighed “Bradford.”

“It’s West, I need you to come to the apartment.”

“Everything ok?” he asked as the threw the covers off, stepping into the sweat pants next to the bed, grabbing and slipping on the pullover hanging on the back of the door.

“It’s Lucy.”

“On my way.” He told the other officer before hanging up, his thoughts berating himself. Not that he was frustrated at his rookie but more at himself, he knew that after what she did today, she had lied about being fine. He had noticed the copious amounts of sugar and caffeine that seemed to be a constant in her hand the past few weeks. But he had held out hope that she would talk to him, tell him what was going on in that beautiful brain of hers, tell him the things she needed to get off her chest.

Tim grabbed his gun from the nightstand, slipping it into the waistband before he threw an old pair of tennis shoes on, moving to the foyer to grab his keys from the basket, glancing at the dog who was snoring away in his crate as he locked up the house and got into his truck. The drive was quiet and smooth for 11:30 of a night, the amount of traffic miniscule as he pulled up in-front of her building.

He locked the truck, punching in the code for the door before making his way to the elevators. He sent a text to Jackson, telling him he was here as he stepped on the car. The car slowed to a stop on the sixth floor, the doors opening to show Jackson standing in the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked as he approached.

Jackson rubbed a hand down his face “She was fine when I left a few hours ago, and well I came back to this..” he said as he opened the door.

Tim stepped in, immediately noticing the almost empty bottle of tequila tipped over on the counter and the pills with no bottle that were scattered across the rock. His stomach plummeted as he began to think the worst.

“Did she take any?”

“I’m not sure, she won’t talk to me.” Jackson said as he pointed to the girl sitting on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Chen.” Tim said as he moved closer, crouching down in-front of her. She was staring ahead, tear tracks and a blank expression on her face. “Lucy.” He said softly, grabbing her chin in his hand. “Do you have your pen light?”

Jackson moved to his duffle bag next to the door, grabbing the small pen before walking back, handing the device over. Tim turned it on, shining it into her eyes when Lucy began to speak. “I didn’t take any.”

“Let me check.” Tim said as he looked into her eyes. “You know the drill.”

Lucy’s eyes followed the light as Tim moved it. He conducted his test, determining she was telling the truth, her eyes glossed from the alcohol. “I told you.” She told him as he handed the pen back to Jackson.

“I know, but I needed to know if I needed to call for an ambulance or not.” He said, his tone angry as he stood, walking over to the sink, taking a deep breath as Jackson joined him.

“What happened today?” Jackson asked quietly.

Tim grabbed a glass from the dish drainer, filling it with water. “We went to see Rosalind and she knew things she shouldn’t.”

Jackson nodded in understanding, “Listen, she’s talking to you and not me so I’m going to head to my room. Yell if you- yell if you need anything.” Jackson told the superior as he turned and walked away, glancing worriedly at his friend that rested her head on her knees sitting on the floor.

Tim grabbed the full glass, walking back over to Lucy, handing the water to her. “Drink, boot.”

Lucy drank the glass of tap water, handing it back to Tim as he walked to refill it again. “I didn’t-“ she stumbled over her words. “I didn’t try to-“

“I know.” He said softly, his fingers grasping the countertop, his knuckles turning white. “I know you didn’t.”

A tear made its way down Lucy’s face as she swiped it away. “I just want it to stop.”

Tim sat the glass on the coffee table, sitting down next to Lucy, kicking off his shoes. “Talk to me.”

Lucy stared down at the legs beside hers, “You know, I knew you were tall but your legs are like really long.”

“Chen.” He softly reprimanded as her head fell into his shoulder.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Never- never apologize. What he- what they did-“

Silence overtook them as his words drifted off. The glow from the LA nightlife filtered into the living room through the window pane, casting a soft light in the room. Tim had assumed that Lucy had fallen asleep, her arm tangled with his as her hand rested on his thigh. He thought back to things she had told him, her telling him that her comfort, her safety came from a forty-year-old chunk of metal. Him having to hear Rosalind sing the song that gave her hope, that kept her alive. The panic and distress of almost loosing her, neither of them knew it but he needed her too.

“I thought- I thought I was doing better. I stopped seeing my therapist, eased back on my meds. I can see now that was a mistake.” She whispered into the night. “But the nightmares started again and I just- I don’t want to close my eyes because every time, every time I do I see-“

Tim waited for her to finish. “You see what Chen?”

“It varies,” she told him as she wiped away the new tears, sniffling. “sometimes it’s Caleb, sometimes it’s Rosalind, sometimes it’s you.”

Tim startled, “Me?”

Lucy nodded, “Yeah. Most of the time, I can’t- I can’t find you, I hear your voice, but I can never catch up.”

“Lucy that’ll never-“

“Happen?” she finished for him. “Other times it’s a repeat of our first day together.”

Tim snorted. “You never expected to deal with a GSW on your first day did you?”

“No!” Lucy laughed as she turned to him. “Though with you I should know to expect the unexpected.”

Tim looked at her before whispering “Expect the unexpected huh? That’s what I always expect with you.”

Lucy tilted her head back as she glanced at his lips before focusing back to his eyes. Tim leaned in closer, his own eyes looking at her cherry red lips. Their lips a hair breadth away, so close their breaths were intertwining.

“We can’t.” Tim whispered against her lips.

Lucy stayed still, “I know.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I know. But, I need-“ Lucy said swallowing her words before gaining courage. “I need you. I just need you. You don’t- we don’t-. Can you please just hold me?” She asked pulling back, unshed tears glistening her eyes. “Please.”

Tim Bradford could count on both hands the moments he could feel his heart break. This, his rookie, someone he shouldn’t be this close to, begging him for comfort was one of those moments, the pain in his chest growing heavier as the knife plunged deeper.

“Ok.” He whispered, moving to stand. Once he was steady on his feet he bent over, putting one arm behind her, the other going under her knees.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“I can walk.”

“Not alone.” He told her as he carried her to her room, putting her in the middle of the mattress before he slid in beside her. Lucy grabbed her weighted blanket from the end of the bed, tossing it over her body before stretching her hand out, reaching for his. She knew it was inappropriate, what ever it was that was happening, that if word escaped the four walls of this apartment there would be ramifications but she trusted and knew with everything in her that the other two people in the apartment would never speak a word.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her eyes becoming heavy as her breath began to even out.

“Never say I don’t love you Luce.” He whispered into the night to no one 

That night Lucy was able to finally sleep, her monsters locked away and buried in a hole, unable to escape their confinements for however long that may be. And Tim Bradford, never telling a soul, choosing to keep the secret to himself as he stayed up, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Lucy’s hand in comfort, his own emotions fighting to the surface. His monsters and demons clawing their way out of their prison, getting the better of him in the quiet space before he could stop them. He stared at the darkness around him, save for the nightlight glowing from an outlet across the room. Lucy sighed in her sleep, her body moving closer into Tim’s side, one of her legs escaping its confinement as she threw it over one of his as her other hand landed on his chest. One moment he was staring at the woman curled into his side, the next he was fast asleep where he shouldn’t be, his thoughts relenting, allowing him the same peace that he was giving. 

[pinkjeanist]

“le matin.” || keigo takami

     ➻     “Keigo Takami drank too much coffee, but you couldn’t complain about seeing him in your shop so often.” [659 words - coffee shop au]

a/n: this is kinda short, but i chose quality over quantity with this one, just because i wanted to do it right. this is a (very) late birthday gift for @keigos-dove​, a person whom i love and adore VERY much, and a person i can’t be grateful enough for in helping me through a rough time a while back. i really hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, beebee!!!!! [navigation]

Keigo Takami drank too much coffee- which was a lot, coming from a barista. You weren’t sure how long he’d been consuming his daily monstrous amount of caffeine, but you knew his problem had steadily increased since his first visit to your coffee shop just a few months ago. You couldn’t complain about seeing him every morning, but you always nagged him about the very large coffee he ordered whenever he came in. 

“Morning, little bird!” Your heart did a flip as you heard the doors open behind you. You pushed the feeling down and turned to face him.

“Good morning, Takami. Which bad decision are you gonna make today?” You smirked, gesturing to the menu hanging above the counter.

“Not sure yet. The French vanilla is calling my name, though,” He smiled back, leaning on the counter. “How have you been, birdy?” 

“Absolutely horrible. What about you?” 

“Inconceivably terrible. Thanks for asking! Now how about that French vanilla?” You chuckled at your feet before nodding. He started again as you turned to fix his drink: “But really, how have you been? How’s business?” 

“Business is okay. Could be better. It should start picking up soon with finals season, though. What about you and your super-duper-secret government work?” Those were the words he’d used to describe his job the first time you’d asked about it. He refused to tell you anything else, which made you a little suspicious, thinking he was “deep state” or something like that. But you guessed that, if he were to tell you anything like that, he’d probably have to kill you, so you didn’t ask any more questions other than how many piles of paperwork he had to fill out that day. 

“Oh, you know. Secretive. Super. The usual. My boss has me running errands today, though. Blegh.” 

“Blegh,” You agreed with another laugh. You finished his (very large) coffee and turned back to the counter, putting the lid on and taking his card as he handed it to you. “You know, Takami, I’m sorry if this seems rude, but...in all seriousness, you come here a lot, and...I don’t think this much coffee is good for you. A coffee this size every day isn’t good for anyone.” 

“Oh, I know. This is probably gonna kill me one day.” He sipped at his coffee as if to prove his point (then grimacing at the heat (he never learned)).

“Then...why do you drink so much of it?” You handed him back his card, watching as he slipped it into his pocket. He took his receipt and one of the pens by the register, scribbling something quickly onto the back and sliding it forward. You ignored it to focus on the conversation. 

“Well, if I didn’t come here for the coffee, I’d be missing out on the view. I’ll see you later, little birdy!” He winked, which was something he’d never done, and smirked as he walked back out of the door. Your heart was hammering against your chest, now, and the butterflies in your stomach were fluttering so fast you thought you might throw up. Okay, maybe that was your breakfast not wanting to settle, but that’s not the point. The point was, Takami just flirted with you, and you were about to have a heart attack. 

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and looked down at the receipt still on the counter. You flipped it over to read the message: “We should talk more. P.S: That apron looks super cute on you!!” He’d left a bunch of little faces and hearts, but what caught your eye was the set of numbers below it all, which could only have been his phone number. 

Maybe you’d already died and gone to heaven. Either way, you had Keigo Takami’s number, he still had a caffeine addiction, and you had a hell of a future with him ahead of you.

-

taglist: @/keigos-dove (already tagged uwu) @knifeewifee​ @wesparklebitch​ @hanniejji​ @bvnnyclouds​ @katsukis-sad-angel​ @ushissugarcube​

- dm or inbox to be added/removed from a taglist.

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

BNHA College AU - Monoma

Major: Psychology

Minor: French

Sports: Soccer

Clubs: Debate

Neito feels the need to prove himself to everyone - he wants everyone to look at him and recognize how successful he is, mainly due to a childhood of everyone around him having very low expectations for him, so he wants to prove them wrong

Because of that, he’s forced himself into doing as much as possible - he studies in all his free time so that he can go into class and act like it’s easy and stay at the top of the class, he volunteers on some weekends at a local hospital, he’s on the soccer team and so he spends a lot of time at practices or games, and he joined the debate team to top it off

So basically, he has a full time schedule, and he is very tired. Not that he would ever admit it, he hides behind concoctions of coffee and energy drinks to make it appear like he’s fine

Even though most people tend to avoid him because of his “I’m so much better than all of you” attitude, no one can deny he isn’t amazing for pulling off everything he is. So far he hasn’t broke, so despite how tired he is, it seems to be working for him

The only people who really try and help him calm down are his roommate, Shinsou, and a friend from high school, Kendo - who are both very concerned about Neito, but he brushes them off saying that he’s fine

You’d think as a psych major he’d be able to understand that he needs to chill, but nope - his ego won’t let him

Now, you meet Neito in your Abnormal Psych class, when at the beginning of the semester your professor said that your only grade for the class is a project that you’ll be paired up for - and you ended up with Neito

At first you thought you were lucky, getting paired with the smart kid, but as soon as you two sat down together to talk about the project you quickly decided you weren’t so lucky

“Let’s just get this over with, I’ll do all the work, okay? I don’t want to fail because of you.”

Even though having him, who you already admitted was smart, do all the work sounded like a nice way to pass the class without doing any work, you weren’t gonna let him bad mouth you like that. He had no right to immediately decide that you were too dumb to even help out

“Well I don’t want to fail because of you, so I’ll take my half of the work, and you’ll take yours. I’m not putting my grade completely in your hands either.”

After a few seconds of glaring at each other, he dramatically rolled his eyes and sighed, “Fine, whatever, I’m picking what parts I want to do though.”

Truthfully he was happy you said that because he does not want to do a whole project by himself nor does he have the time to do so, but he doesn’t want to fail. So he’s just gonna hope that you’re smart

Throughout most of the project, you two just did your own work by yourselves - neither of you had any interest in working with the other

So other than the few times where he made sure to check in and go “are you actually working on the project?” you didn’t talk to him again until the day before the project was due when you met up in the library 

You both needed to make sure the other actually did their part and that your work would actually work fine together, and you weren’t surprised when Neito’s parts ended up being amazing work that would for sure get a high score. He was also very happy when he saw that your work was also amazing, he had worried a bit that he would have to redo a bunch of your stuff so he was glad he wouldn’t

But poor boy was exhausted, with everything that he has to do day by day on top of a huge project that he totally didn’t end up doing most of in the past week (the hypocrite) – and you could tell. Despite not knowing him well, you knew that Monoma tended to take a lot of pride in his appearance, so seeing him show up with dark circles under his eyes and messy hair was surprising

Even though he had been kinda rude to you before, you felt lowkey bad. He had obviously worked very hard on the project, and your grade depended on that. His did too of course, but still. So, you invited him out for coffee

“Seriously?”

You thought he was gonna make fun of you for asking, almost making you say nevermind, but the look on his face showed shock rather than humor, so you nodded your head, “yeah, you look tired. I’ll buy it, don’t worry. Just to celebrate us finishing this stupid project.”

He agreed, although he still looked kinda shocked, but maybe it was just because he was tired

So, you brought him to the nearest starbucks on campus, and you ordered your drinks – he got some fancy one with a lot of instructions, and once you got them you went back to the library cause there were a lot of people in the starbucks -  it is a college campus afterall

At first you both kinda just drank your coffee and went back to going over your project since you would have to present it tomorrow, but as the caffeine started kicking in Monoma started talking more and more about other things

Like he mentioned that he has to leave in about an hour cause he has soccer practice and so you were like oh youre on the soccer team?? How cool – and ofc, he’s not gonna miss a chance to brag about himself. So yes, he did talk about all of the cool things he does around campus, and despite how easily it could come off as annoying, he seemed like he was actually happy to be talking about it

However, you had to flaunt yourself too – so whenever you could you’d interject with a hard class you took or some volunteering or internship you’d done or your job, anything to show that you’re a hard worker too

And Neito liked that – you were fun. You were letting him talk about himself without getting annoyed, you were smart, you were nice, and you also were really hardworking

He totally didn’t go back to his dorm after practice and ramble to Shinsou about how awesome his project partner is

The next day, of course the presentation went great, no matter how you are at presenting Monoma is great at it and your actual project was really good so everything went perfect

You had pretty much that’d be it of you and Monoma, but at the end of class he came up to you with a proud grin on his face and asked if you wanted to come to his game this weekend

You weren’t busy or anything so you agreed, and lowkey you thought it be fun to see him playing. Even before you met him you knew this boy was pretty, and thinking about him running around playing made you a bit more flustered than you’d like to admit

So you went, and you followed Monoma’s instructions of where to go and all that, and soon the game started.

And your brain was right – he did look extra pretty like this. You couldn’t help but cheer for him as he scored goals, making him flash you a smile every time. Part of you wondered why you were doing this, you had only really known him for a few days altogether, and you disliked him for most of that, but you couldn’t deny you were having fun

Ofc, his team won, and you cheered like crazy. He came up to you after the game, ready to brag about how good he did, but you beat him to it, “You did so good Monoma!”

“I know, I know, thank you~”

Even though you should probably be the one treating him for winning, he said that he had to pay you back for the coffee the other day, and you went to get some fast food

Not healthy, but it’s a celebration, he’ll let himself eat badly sometimes

After that, you found yourself hanging out with him a lot more often, either studying or going to his games or whatever – you even ended up together in another psych class the next semester

Basically, you two had become best friends, and that was fine for a while, despite you thinking he was very pretty and had a gorgeous voice and you had started to respect him a lot

Well, it was fine for you – Neito had found himself falling deeper a lot sooner than you did. People generally don’t show him the time of day that you have, and he knows he wasn’t exactly the nicest to you when you first met but even so you not only defended yourself but were nice anyways

So yeah, long story short he loves you, he practically worships the ground you walk on tbh but he won’t ever admit that (at least not for a while)

It takes a lot of convincing from Shinsou and Kendo to even try asking you out, them saying “they’ve stuck around for this long, there’s a good chance they might like you too. Or at least I doubt they’d think it’s weird, if they can put up with you normally I’m sure they can handle this.”

So eventually, he did. Awkwardly knocking on your dorm room door one night dressed nicely, making you feel kinda weird when you answered in your pajamas, but he asked “y/n, would you like to go out with me tonight? As a date?”

Poor boy was trying so hard to sound confident but he wasn’t doing all that well, his voice coming out kinda wobbly. You were lowkey shocked when he said it but it was a pleasant surprise, no you had never really thought about dating monoma, but you were sure as hell willing to give it a try

So you said yes, asking him to give you a minute so that you could get equally as dressed up while your roommate helped you out, and soon you were on your way to wherever he was taking you

Of course it was a very fancy date, Monoma wanted to go all out for you, so it was a kind of overwhelming first date but you found yourself enjoying it greatly. He may have tried being all romantic and flirty, but there was still the goofy Monoma that you were used to under there

By the end of the date, there was no doubt about it, you liked him, so there were no objections when he asked if he could kiss you after walking you back to your dorm.

Once again, Monoma coming back to his dorm and rambling to Shinsou about how well the date went and how he even got a kiss! But Shinsou was happy for him

The next day he texted you to come meet him at the library where he officially asked you to date him, he wanted to do it there because that’s where you first became friends – how cute

Now Neito has another person constantly telling him to calm down, you support him in everything he does of course but when he’s tired you will make him stop studying so that he can nap with you

When he has matches you get to do that cheesy thing when after he wins he can run up to you and kiss you – its amazing, his teammates think it’s gross, but who cares

And you go to his debate competitions if youre allowed to, and hoo boy can he debate he always has the best arguments and everything you’re so proud like hell yeah that’s your annoying ass man

Neito is a French minor, and of course he’s gonna use that on you. He’s very good at French, like he picked it up quickly and he’s just got it down completely, so ofc he’s using that to flirt with you

But if you know French and use it back at him he will get very flustered (if you don’t know it maybe you should learn some just for this)

You guys go on so many fancy dates, not always expensive fancy dates, but things like you show up at a park and he set up a bunch of fairy lights and brought champagne or something

If you ever hang out at his dorm, which might be fairly often cause of how much he studies and all that, Shinsou will get annoyed by you two being cute

But he’ll also tell you a bunch of embarrassing stories about Neito so you love talking to him, Neito does not like it so much for that exact reason

he’s generally not big on pda but sometimes he’ll feel the need to make some big declaration of his love while you’re in public and you’re just like neito plz shut up - he’s romantic he cant help it

okay but you two have totally faked a proposal multiple times at a fancy restaurant or gone to bakeries saying you were engaged just so that you could get free food - but he makes the fake proposals so realistic that they lowkey make you tear up... imagine what he’ll be like when he does it for real