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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

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Hunger

Summary: Spencer really likes his new coworkers: they're nice, welcoming, friendly, and made his transition to the BAU as easy as possible. Which makes it impossible for him to turn down an invitation to eat dinner with them at an upscale fancy restaurant, no matter how anxious that makes a boy who grew up with next to nothing feel.

Tags: insecurity, anxiety, allusions to poverty, hurt/comfort, team as family, angst with a happy ending, fluff, background jelle

TW: mentions of poverty, financial difficulties, and food insecurity

Pairing: Gen (Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid)

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This fills my "trying not to cry" bad things happen bingo square and is set a few weeks after Spencer joins the BAU, in an AU in which Elle was there before him.

Everyone is so nice, is the thing.

And that’s great. Really, it is. Spencer isn’t about to complain when JJ kindly walks him through the filing system all the while asking questions about him and his life, or when Derek ribs him gently about his ducktail hair or his nerdy brain. No-one cuts him off when he gets carried away — unless it’s time-sensitive, of course — or teases him about anything that cuts too close to home. Being the new guy in the most prestigious unit in the FBI could’ve been a nightmare, but this team made it easy. He’s so grateful for all of it.

It just makes it really hard to turn down dinner invitations.

He watches his shaking fingers in the mirror as they button his shirt up and wrap his tie around his neck, poking it fastidiously under the collar, not a wrinkle of fabric out of place. He glances down at the countertop again, re-reading the restaurant name copied down in JJ’s careful handwriting onto a piece of copier paper regardless of having committed it to memory the first time he heard it. Sur la Rivière: a fancy European restaurant in DC.

He’d hoped for a cheap and cheerful Chinese when Hotch had first brought up the idea of a team bonding dinner, something more his style, but he’d smiled anyway when Elle had mentioned this place her foodie friend had recommended, no matter how strained it might have been. He’s the new guy after all. He doesn’t expect much swing when it comes to choosing where to eat.

As soon as his shirt and tie are perfectly in place, he gets to work on taming his curly hair. It makes him look younger when it’s loose and fluffy, and with a baby-face like his combined with already being the youngest person in the entire FBI, every year he can add on counts. Soon, though, there’s no more grooming he can use to stall the inevitable, and he sighs tiredly before clicking off the bathroom light and heading to the hall.

He collects his phone and wallet, checking for the sixth time that evening that his credit card and extra money to tip the waiter is definitely in there, grabs his keys, and heads out of his apartment. Derek is in his car waiting on the curb for him like he promised he would be, looking effortlessly suave and cool in a way Spencer never will as he honks his horn at the sight of the younger man walking towards him.

“Pretty boy!�� he calls, his grin making Spencer smile, too. “Took you long enough. Hop in, fancy European cuisine awaits.”

Another rush of nerves floods Spencer’s stomach at the mention of the fate he’s signed up for, but he smiles anyway as he opens the passenger door and slides in. “Thanks for giving me a lift, Derek,” he says, hating that his anxious discomfort is so obvious in his voice.

Thankfully, Derek doesn’t pick him up on it, simply pulling away from the curb and beginning the drive across town. “How many times do I have to tell you not to mention it? I live less than ten minutes away, Spencer, it’s really not a problem.”

Spencer flushes a bit at that, wringing his hands in his lap as he watches the streets of his district pass by out the window. “Well, I appreciate it anyway,” he settles on, flashing Derek a quick smile that he doubts he sees anyway with his eyes glued so firmly to the road. “Riding the metro is a nightmare at this hour.”

“Never learned how to drive? I didn’t have the money for lessons, Spencer wants to say, irrationally frustrated at his situation. I was rushed through the academy too quickly to learn something as trivial as driving.

“I was too busy getting five degrees,” Spencer says instead, forcing a smile on his face. He wishes he wasn’t so well-practiced at managing other people’s emotions; wishes he could say what he’s really thinking. But he can’t, not in front of the people he’s trying to impress, not so soon.

“Alright, alright, I get it, you’re a genius,” Derek chuckles. “I’m glad you’re coming tonight, we all are. Gideon didn’t tell us much before he left, just that you had an IQ of 187 and he’d pulled a lot of strings to get you in at only 22.”

Spencer winces slightly at the mention of his ex-mentor. “Yeah, I’m sorry he ran out on you guys so suddenly.”

“Hey, from what I hear, he did the same to you,” Derek counters. “You guys seemed way closer than we were anyway. I never really liked the guy.”

As much as most of Spencer hates Gideon for abandoning him without warning, leaving him to find his footing in the FBI alone and afraid, a small part of him still itches to defend him. “He was a good mentor. Not such a good friend, as it turns out.”

Derek looks away from the road for a moment and shoots him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, man. But Gideon’s loss is our gain. You’re gonna be an amazing asset to the team, I just know it.”

A genuine smile crosses Spencer’s face at that. “Thanks, Derek. I can’t wait to really get stuck in, you know?”

“I remember the feeling.” Derek grins again.

They continue chatting for the rest of the journey, Spencer finally relaxing into the company of a new friend— that is, until Derek cuts across one of his stories from his second PhD. “Hey, the restaurant should be up on the left somewhere but I can’t see it…

“Oh, there,” Spencer says, pointing at the sleek, almost anonymous-looking black sign hanging above a set of fancy doors. How can doors be fancy? They’re supposed to be functional, not pretentious. All of a sudden that sinking feeling that had lifted on the car ride over settles back into his stomach and he can’t help but swallow nervously as Derek parks the car and they step out into the street.

Everyone’s already seated when they finally push through the restaurant doors, and Spencer hates that he made them both late with his apprehensive stalling, but no-one really seems to mind as they all cheer happily at the sight of them, ignoring the dirty looks it earns them from the other patrons.

“You made it!” Penelope squeals as she gets up from her seat to give Spencer a hug. He’s a little touch-averse, really, but something about Penelope’s hugs make him never want to leave her arms. He does anyway, though, and he and Derek find their seats opposite one another at the end of the table.

“I’m glad you’re here, Spencer,” Hotch says kindly as the waitress passes the two late-comers their menus.

“You’ll fit right in,” JJ promises, “we’re like a weird little family, to be honest.”

Spencer flushes a bit under the attention of so many experienced FBI agents, but he nods anyway before they all get started on deciding what to eat. He listens vaguely to everyone talking amongst themselves, giving one another suggestions in a way that corroborates JJ’s statement, and all of a sudden Spencer’s collar feels tight. It’s not just the nerves of meeting new people or the anxiety of an alien social environment, he realises he doesn’t recognise a single item on the menu.

He knows what the words themselves mean, but reading the words 'tortellini of venison’ and trying to imagine deer meat pasta is not easily done. The only simple meals seem to be seafood and Spencer’s never been a fan of fish. The only food he can even begin to imagine himself actually putting in his mouth, chewing, and swallowing is the porterhouse steak: not that he’s ever really eaten much red meat like that.

Spencer isn’t a fussy eater. He’s eaten a wide variety of dishes from any number of different restaurants across multiple cuisines, he’s just never had the kind of money to eat at a place that serves caviar, for God’s sake. Far too soon, the waitress wanders back over to the table, taking everyone’s orders with a polite smile on her face.

He listens as everyone confidently orders their meals: the smoked trout, the Moroccan quail, the lobster tagliatelle. Spencer thanks the heavens he isn’t a vegetarian, at least, but it’s not much of a consolation prize when everyone’s eyes fall on him.

“Uh, I’ll have the porterhouse steak,” he says uncertainly, hoping nobody notices the sweat beading on his forehead or the anxiety raging behind his eyes.

Everyone seems to accept his answer, the waitress taking their menus and walking back towards the kitchen as the rest of them resume their conversation. Hotch’s eyes linger a moment too long on him, and Spencer thinks he sees something like concern in his gaze, but before he can think much of it, Penelope’s drawing everyone’s attention to JJ’s bracelet.

“Can we please appreciate this?” she says, sounding scandalised for some reason Spencer can’t quite discern from context yet. “Elle, baby, you have taste. This is absolutely gorgeous! Are you sure you don’t want to date me, too?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raise slightly at that. “Oh, you two are together?” he asks, although now that he realises it he’s not sure how he didn’t notice sooner.

“Are you sure you’re a profiler, kid?” Derek laughs. “They don’t exactly hide it.

“Even though they’re supposed to,” Hotch chimes in with a faux stern look. “You two are gonna have my job at some point.” “Aw, but where would we find another Unit Chief that would help us hide our secret so well?” Elle says charmingly, making everyone laugh, including JJ, who presses her face into her shoulder fondly.

It’s easy for Spencer to momentarily lose himself in the banter, smiling as they tease one another, interspersing their gripes and funny stories from work among it all. They include him in all of it, and he doesn’t feel left out for even a second, finally relaxing into the unfamiliar environment of a fancy restaurant, eased by the reassuring company of his new team.

“JJ’s right,” he muses out loud when there’s a brief lull in conversation, “you guys really are like a little family.”

JJ leans away from Elle towards him for a moment, wrapping him in a side hug. “And you’re the perfect addition to it, Spence,” she says softly, everyone’s expressions reading nothing but fond agreement. “We needed a little brother to add into the mix.”

Spencer blushes again but leans into her touch.

No-one gets a chance to say anything else before the food arrives, the servers bringing JJ and Elle’s meals first, then serving Hotch and Penelope, before they finally bring out his and Derek’s order.

Everyone dives into their food, immediately making noises of contentment, passing bites around to one another, but Spencer can’t join in the jubilant celebration of a good meal. He picks his knife and fork up shakily as he stares at the massive portion of steak in front of him. It’s served with roast potatoes and flecks of a pointless salad that he suspects is only there as a garnish rather than actually part of the meal, but that’s not what has him worried.

This huge slab of meat hasn’t been sliced beforehand. He knows that he’ll shake the whole table if he tries to do it: it’s a massive, impenetrable slab of red meat that Spencer has no chance of enjoying, let alone finishing. He stares at it as tears burn in his eyes: he’s so out of his comfort zone and he’s so terrified of messing up and pushing away these newfound friends that he can’t move.

“Spence?” JJ cuts in gently, putting a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up, only to find everyone looking at him with worried expressions on their faces. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” he says, standing up abruptly, the disturbance of the table barely registering in his brain. “I just need a minute.”

He rushes out of the restaurant without looking back, drawing in deep breaths as soon as he’s in the cool evening air of spring. Thoughts race through his mind at a million miles an hour as he grasps for something concrete to grab onto, eventually settling for a tall flower pot.

“Spencer?”

He looks up to find Hotch standing next to him, deep concern written across his face, and Spencer’s heart clenches at the thought that he’s already messed this up so quickly. Could this night possibly get any worse?

Apparently, it can, because all of a sudden he feels his face crumple and the stinging tears finally spill down his cheeks. He sinks down to the ground and buries his face in his hands, humiliation glimmering in every cell of his body.

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says gently, lowering himself to the cool pavement next to him and placing a warm hand on his back. He lets him cry it out for a couple of minutes, his palm drawing small circles in between his shoulder blades, trying again to get through to him when Spencer’s sobs calm down slightly. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

With a shuddering breath, he forces himself to lift his face from his palms, although he still refuses to meet Hotch’s eyes, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the Korean restaurant across the street. “I guess it just all got to be too much,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” Hotch says encouragingly. “What specifically?”

“I— I didn’t have much growing up. It was just me and my mom so we were living in the middle of Vegas on a single disability check each month. And, uh, then I went to college, and I was barely scraping by there, too. It’s only recently that I’ve known the luxury of knowing for sure I was eating that night, and it still gets to me sometimes when I’m faced with fancy restaurants and heavy, expensive meals. My body’s had to work for years on virtually nothing, there’s no way I can stomach a steak like that. I guess, all those feelings that are a lifetime in the making combined with the anxiety of eating with the team for the first time… wanting to make a good impression, it just all got too much. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Hotch raises a hand, and Spencer finally meets his eyes, finding nothing but compassion and understanding there no matter how much he searches. “You don’t need to apologise, Spencer, not for something like this. I’m sorry that none of us thought to make the first team dinner with you a more casual affair, and I’m even more sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell us you were uncomfortable.” “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but I’m glad you accept my apology,” Hotch says, smiling softly. “You know, we all bring baggage with us, Spencer. I can’t relate to food insecurity, but I had my own issues when I first joined the BAU. I grew up with a pretty terrible father, and the thing I found myself reprimanded for the most when I was a new recruit was the inability to follow orders. I’d spent my whole life scared of this man, obeying his every word, and I couldn’t help but hear him when my superiors would tell me to do something. When I was finally free of him, it was like I couldn’t help but rebel.

“You’re not the only one whose childhood follows them around, and I’d much rather it be something like this that we can easily manage, than something that will affect you or the team in the field, okay? Instead of beating yourself up over things you can’t control, try and remember that you have a whole new family who will do anything they can to make you feel as comfortable as possible. We already think the world of you, Spencer. Sacrificing fancy dinners that — let’s face it — can’t beat cheap junk food anyway is hardly a big ask.

Warmth spreads across his chest at Hotch’s words, replacing the feelings of failure and rising anxiety with something that feels like a promise of all the good to come. There’s something fatherly, something deeply paternal in Hotch that there wasn’t in Gideon, and it’s the most comfort Spencer’s felt in years. “Really?”

“Really,” Hotch nods, squeezing his shoulder gently. “You wait here one minute, okay?”

“Okay…” Hotch is gone before he can finish replying, and Spencer is left staring at the doors confused, until the rest of the team are piling out of them a few minutes later, Hotch bringing up the rear with his jacket and wallet in hand.

“We just paid the tab. How does cheap Chinese food eaten in the park a couple hundred yards down sound?” Hotch suggests, raising an eyebrow as he smiles warmly at Spencer.

He looks around briefly at the rest of the team, who are all giving him encouraging looks, not a trace of judgement or annoyance to be found.

“That sounds amazing,” he laughs wetly, the tears springing to his eyes this time caused by a completely different emotion. “I can pay you back, though.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty boy,” Derek says, patting Spencer’s back, “we’ve got it. Now, come on, I’m gonna order sweet and sour chicken balls, and I want them now.”

“That’s what she said,” Penelope giggles, linking her arm with Derek’s.

“That was terrible, baby girl, but I love that you tried.”

“Do you want to share shrimp chop suey with me, babe?” Elle asks JJ as they clasp hands, walking a couple of steps ahead of them.

“Well, I’m certainly not sharing with any of these losers,” JJ teases, before kissing Elle’s cheek.

Spencer feels Hotch place his hand on his back, and he turns to smile gratefully at the older man. “Thank you,” he says quietly, trying to convey just how earnestly he means it. “No-one’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”

There’s a slightly sad tinge to Hotch’s smile, but it doesn’t look like pity. “I’d get used to it if I were you. That’s just how we do things in the BAU.”

Well, if that’s the case, Spencer thinks, smiling as he falls into step between Hotch and Penelope, I think I might just stick around.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @jellejareau @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic-not-stupid(taglist form)

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #criminal minds gen #criminal minds gen fic #aaron hotchner & spencer reid #derek morgan & spencer reid #derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #jelle #jennifer jareau #elle greenaway #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #hurt spencer reid #hurt/comfort

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transsergio · 4 years ago

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Emily's Top Surgery (Read on AO3)

Penemily / Gen / 4038 words

Emily has top surgery and their loving, perfect, beautiful girlfriend Penelope is their caretaker.

Notes: I refer to Emily as Penelope's girlfriend intentionally; Emily is a non-binary lesbian and in this particular story, is comfortable with the gendered term "girlfriend". However, if you see Emily referred to as she/her at any point, that's an editing mistake on my part and I mixed up their pronouns with Penelope's. I went through this a couple times to make sure I gendered them correctly, but one might have slipped through the cracks!

Also feels important to say that Dr. Dolan is a totally fictional doctor and not a reference to any real life surgeon

Surgery Day

Penelope has seen her team through too much already. Kidnappings, stab wounds, bullets – their jobs aren’t exactly arts and crafts. Yet, she thinks this might be the most nervous she has ever been. She’s been rapid-fire tapping her heel for the last hour and forty-five minutes, and trying to distract herself with her cell phone. Morgan texted a couple times to check in (once on behalf of Reid), but otherwise, radio silence. The few messages mean more than she can say; she is intimately familiar with how busy they are on a case. But she really wishes any of them were there to squeeze her hand right about now. She’d even take Strauss.

In the middle of Penelope’s billionth Candy Crush level, a doctor materializes in front of her. She startles and fumbles her phone trying to click it off. “Is it over? Can I see them now? How’d it go?”

As the doctor peels his surgical mask off, she sees he’s laughing at her. That’s good, right?

He says, “Everything went just fine, Ms. Garcia. Emily’s in the recovery room now, and we’ll let you back there about twenty minutes after they wake up. They’re going to be a little groggy and maybe nauseous. It all depends on how their body reacts to the anesthesia. They’ll most likely sleep for the rest of the day, but make sure to keep up with their medications, alright?”

Penelope nods fervently. “Absolutely, Dr. Dolan. Can do. Will do! And I’m sorry to ask this again but I really have to make sure, the whole operation was totally fine? Nothing went wrong? Everything…chopped off okay?”

The doctor stifles a chuckle. “Yes, Ms. Garcia. Everything went exactly as planned, no complications as of yet. We’ll see you tomorrow for Emily’s one day post-op appointment to check the surgery site and switch out the bandages for a binder, and then for their first week post-op. Okay?”

Penelope smiles back, still nodding along like Emily’s health depends on it.

The doctor shakes her hand and ducks back into the surgical ward, leaving Penelope to update the group chat.

“Emily’s out!!!!!! Doc says all good!!!!!! Will be with them soon 😍💖🥳”

She types almost as quickly as her heart is beating.

Penelope makes it through another few rounds of mobile games and desperately refreshing her Twitter feed before she risks checking the clock. It’s been half an hour. Shouldn’t Emily be awake by now? What if they never wake up? Could someone be permanently anesthetized? Reid would know. Maybe Penelope should call Reid. No, she can’t do that. They’re all off in Texas trying to catch a serial killer and she doesn’t need to distract them, not when they’re already down two team members. Kevin Lynch is pretty good, she hopes. She’s seen his work and it’s adequate. Nothing like the multi-tasking Penelope pulls off, but in the same ballpark. His boyfriend, Grant Anderson, vouched for him. It was unnecessary, and maybe Kevin shouldn’t have sent the person who got Elle shot to sing his praises, but at least they knew Grant. Kevin was a stranger from another department. A back-up.

“Penelope Garcia?” A nurse calls as she emerges from swinging double doors.

“Yes, right here!” Penelope chirps. She leaps to her feet and scurries over as quickly as her heels will allow.

The nurse walks her through the recovery ward and the steps to Emily’s post-op instructions. Emily has four different prescriptions already filled and two cannot be taken at the exact same time while one is an antibiotic and the other is just for nausea which they might not need and –

“This is all written down, right? Sorry, my head’s just like, woo, swimming right now,” Penelope says. Her eyes are wide and darting frantically between the curtained beds. She hates the fluorescent lights. Her skin is buzzing with all the sour electricity. The nurse assures her they’ll send them home with physical copies along with phone numbers in case of emergency.

They round the nurse’s station and finally, come to Emily. They’re shifting slightly in their bed, leaning forward and sipping at a dixie cup of water. They're groggy and slow, with the IV still in their arm. Penelope’s glad they don’t have a mirror – their bangs are scattered over their forehead in three wispy chunks, a way Penelope knows Emily hates.

“Hey sweetheart,” Penelope coos. She leans over the bed's plastic siding to kiss the top of Emily’s head, and run her fingers through their dark hair. Emily leans into the touch.

They croak, “Hey,” and cough to clear their throat, wincing all the while.

“That’d be because you were intubated,” the nurse says. “Take plenty of cough drops and you should feel much better.”

Penelope assures the nurse they will while Emily drifts in and out of focus.

“Did it work?” they ask.

“Did what, Em?”

“M’surgery.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally. You’ll see in a little bit. You’re just sleepy.”

“M’kay,” Emily says. Their head lolls back into their pillows as the muscles in their face tighten.

“Emily, what would you rate your pain out of ten?” the nurse asks, coming closer with her clipboard at the ready.

“Uh, five? Maybe six.”

Penelope looks to the nurse. “Is that bad? That sounds bad. I thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt right now.”

The nurse jots down a few notes before she answers. “It’s not unusual. We’ll up their pain killers before we remove the IV.”

Penelope plants herself firmly at Emily’s side in the meantime. They’ve redressed Emily in their own clothes, an oversized button-down and sweats. Well, Penelope assumes they put Emily’s bottoms back on. The blanket is still tucked tightly around their body like they’re some kind of soft, hot mummy. They stay like that for another fifteen minutes, Penelope working her nails through Emily’s scalp as they try to relax.

When Emily rates their pain at a four, then a three, Penelope helps the nurse settle them in a wheelchair. They roll a few feet into the hall before Emily claws for Penelope’s arm.

“Where’s the barf bag?” Penelope asks. She has her hand out and ready for the nurse to pass it over, and swings it into Emily’s face.

Emily, thankfully, does not puke. Their slow, steady breath crinkles the blue plastic bag, but all they fill it with is air. They keep a tight grip on the thing for safekeeping, even as they’re helped into the passenger’s seat of Penelope’s car.

“You ready to go home, lovebug?” Penelope keeps her voice low and sweet, like dark honey. Emily nods and Penelope grants her wish, starting the engine and turning out of the parking lot.

-❤-

One Day Post-Op

Penelope holds her breath as the nurse unwraps the medical bandages. She wonders if Em is doing the same. While she’s watching them, Emily’s eyes flit between her and the floor-length mirror fastened to the exam room wall.

The nurse is talking, and they’re both supposed to be listening, but who could expect them to? Emily has spent a couple grand (after insurance) and something like four years waiting for these next seconds. Penelope is just as invested, if not more, in Emily’s happiness. She’s not going to get the camera out, but wonders if she should just in case Emily cries.

Their eyes follow the final bandage as it unravels from Emily’s form.

And Emily’s mind goes quiet. They have two, deep red swoops where their chest used to bulge. Above and below, their body is nothing but smooth skin. They thought this would feel like shock. Like disbelief that they were finally here. Instead, it just feels right, as if this is the way it’s always been and some crappy daydream is over at last. They giggle, and Penelope glows like the sun has risen.

“Wow,” Penelope says, soft. She’s wrenched with admiration.

The nurse is smiling in the corner. She takes out a roll of Steri-Strips and measures them against Emily’s new scars. Scars! Emily finally has scars!

“Now the bruising should lessen in the next three to four weeks,” the nurse says. Oh, bruising. Emily almost hadn’t noticed. Their body is splotched with patches of yellow, green, and purple as if it’s trying to camouflage itself, but Emily’s not hiding from anything anymore.

They’re given more practical information, like how often Emily should be walking to avoid blood clots, how high they should lift their arms, how much they should be carrying – most of which tells them to stay reclined, arms down, to sleep as much as possible, but get in ten minutes of walking every few hours. Penelope hears more of this than Emily does, and again, they’re given written instructions just in case.

Emily takes one last look before the compression vest goes on. This will be the most uncomfortable part of the process, thank god. Emily chose a surgeon who used a tighter suture method rather than the typical drains intentionally. Still, the fit of the binder is exciting. Emily’s never had something lie flat on them before. Their body now falls in one fluid line without anything, even nipples, to interrupt.

“Em?”

Emily snaps to Penelope, who is standing and holding the door for them.

“Oh, right,” Emily says with half a laugh and a daze in their eyes. They thank the nurse, and the receptionist, and a passing surgeon that isn’t even Emily’s on the way out. This is the most gratitude Emily’s ever contained in their life, and they need to flush it through their system.

“And especially you,” Emily gushes as Penelope helps buckle their seatbelt. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you’re taking time off for me, or that you’re not stir crazy already. Thank you.”

Penelope grins like she might burst, and can’t answer just yet. She gets them safely onto the highway for home first. “Of course I’m here for you, dumb-dumb! Not only because you literally can’t do anything for yourself right now, or because the hospital said you couldn’t have the surgery without having a caretaker, but, well – okay, maybe half for those reasons too. But because I love you. I’m so happy for you, and how happy you’re going to be, and that this is so good for you. I love you so much.” Penelope sniffles.

“Maybe you should have said all that before we left?” Emily asks. “You’re gonna cry the whole drive back, babe.”

Penelope swats at them. “I know, I know! But you’re on a strict schedule, my lovely angel, and you need your meds in like, thirty minutes.”

Emily laughs and catches Penelope’s hand in their own. They squeeze it tightly and press their lips to Penelope’s fingers. Emily only releases when Penelope tugs their grip toward the steering wheel.

“Next stop, Recoveryville,” Pen jokes.

-❤-

Five Days Post-Op

Emily is more or less comfortably laid on their couch. They have an arsenal of pillows stationed behind them, under their arms, and at the bend of their knees, and Penelope’s militant care routine keeping them afloat. For the last four days, they’ve done nothing but watch French art films together, eat ice cream, and order takeout. It’s been a nice break, Emily realizes. One they didn’t know they needed.

Penelope emerges from the kitchen with a bag of Doritos and a bright blue DVD in her hands.

“This looks like a bribe,” Emily says with a wry smile.

“That’s because it is. I am in no place to object to your choice of movies, especially after I promised I wouldn’t make fun of the accents anymore. But I was sorta hoping this would be a good opportunity to manhandle you into watching a real classic.” Penelope blocks the television in her pink pajama pants and Emily’s Yale hoodie. Penelope is well aware that Emily loves when she wears their clothes; she has to be doing this on purpose. And it’s working.

Emily bobs their head from side to side, considering the offer. “Alright, shoot. I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

Penelope slaps the movie cover over her face. Mamma Mia! (2008) Dir. Phyllida Lloyd.

“Oh, god.”

And Penelope reemerges, scowling. “Hey! I didn’t complain when you made me watch that sad movie about the woman with the dead family. This time, no one’s dead! And they’re in Greece! Okay, admittedly no one wants to hear Pierce Brosnan sing, but if you ignore him and focus on Meryl Streep the movie gets a lot better!”

This is not the first time Emily has heard argument on behalf of Mamma Mia! and it likely isn’t the last, either. Movie night in the Garcia-Prentiss household is in a state of constant debate and usually decided by a fair and unbiased coin toss. Emily considers it a miracle that Penelope’s lasted this long without putting up a fight, and considers it part of her generosity as their caretaker.

Emily scooches themself into a more upright position. “Trois coleurs: Bleu is a beautiful movie and you said you liked it, first of all. And I thought we were watching my movies because I’m the one healing.”

Penelope hesitates. “…Yes, but I may have also been doing a little eensy weensy bit of work at the same time because they’re also like, really slow and boring and Kevin needed the tiniest, tiniest bit of help on the Texas case.”

“Traitor!” Emily is aghast. “What about the deal?”

The deal, of course, was the promise they made each other after their third movie night. Emily was texting throughout The Muppets Take Manhattan and not entirely invested in Kermit and Miss Piggy’s wedding. Penelope was hurt, Emily was confused, and didn’t fully get it until Penelope fell asleep twenty minutes into Deux ou trois choses que je sais d'elle. From that point on, they agreed to compromise more on movie selection and to pay undivided attention to the films they did pick.

“You passed out! I thought the deal was void if you weren’t awake during your own movie!” Penelope said.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Emily argued.

“Oh, yeah, I’m going to wake up the person who just had surgery so they can pay attention to the third sad foreign movie of the day. You need your rest, and Kevin has maybe half of my inimitable skills!” Penelope’s words were jumbling together as she went up an octave. “I know I’m on vacation but the team needed help and I didn’t want to abandon them with some computer monkey who doesn’t know the first thing about my system, much less the way the team works, and isn’t even a regular assist on cases like me and—”

Penelope is cut off by three short raps at their front door. A welcome escape.

“Pen!” Emily calls after her. “We’re not done here!”

“I think we are!” Penelope shouts back. She passes down the hall and peers through the peep hole, though, she really doesn’t need to. She recognizes the voices on the other side.

“We’re not too early, are we?”

“It’s two in the afternoon, genius.”

“I mean in days since Emily’s operation. They might not be up to company.”

“Then we’ll say hi to baby girl and head out, no big deal.”

Penelope swings the door wide open. “Definitely say hi to me, definitely do that!”

Morgan and Reid stand in their building’s hallway, Derek carrying bags of Chinese food, and Spencer juggling some sort of gift basket. Their eyes are tired and Derek’s stubble is looking rougher than usual, but they perk up in the light of their friend.

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan says. He comes in for a tight hug as he and Reid crowd themselves inside. “How’s everyone holdin’ up?”

“Peachy keen,” Penelope says. She squeezes Derek’s shoulder and leads them back to Emily by Reid’s hand. “Look who missed their favorite co-workers!”

“Hey, guys,” Emily says. Their heart warms at the sight of them. “What’re you doing here?”

“Now how’s that any way to greet a friend?” Morgan laughs. He lowers their takeout food to the coffee table and dives onto the couch beside Emily. “You been good to Garcia so far, or do we have to put the hurt on you?” He playfully punches Emily in their arm, and they cower in mock pain.

“Hey, no roughhousing!” Penelope scolds. “If anyone pulls any sort of muscle in the next twenty minutes, you’re all in timeout.”

Emily and Derek snicker in their seats and launch into the most recent case details. It’s a lot of the gory, icky stuff that Penelope doesn’t want to know unless she’s in her bat cave, so she takes Spencer and his basket into the kitchen.

“Doritos, huh?” he notices the bag Penelope drops on the counter. “You were trying to get something from them?”

Penelope answers with her head stuck in the fridge as she paws to the back for Spencer’s La Croix. “I may have wanted to watch one of my movies today, and I may have offered chips in payment.” She fishes a couple cans of LimonCello out, and huffs. “So what’s all this?”

“It’s from JJ. She wanted to come herself but didn’t think bringing Henry over was the best idea,” Spencer explains. He holds his drink gingerly with both hands and peers into the basket. It looks a lot like the one Penelope used for JJ’s baby shower, and is also definitely the same basket. Inside are a few bags of beef jerky, chocolate, a backscratcher with a little pink hand at its end, and an airline neck pillow with the Texas flag patterned over it.

“Awe. I’m definitely baking her cookies,” Penelope says. She leans back against the counter and eyes Spencer up and down. “Tough case?”

Spencer shifts from side to side and looks into the dark pit of his La Croix can. “Not much worse than usual. It was just… long. And Emily would’ve been a big help. None of us speak Spanish.”

“But you didn’t want to call right now,” Penelope guesses. “It’s all over though, right? All good? Everything wrapped up with a bow for good luck?”

Spencer nods and purses his lips. He looks over his shoulder to the living room, where Derek is describing something with his hands and Emily watches, wide-eyed and entertained. Spencer says, more to himself than Penelope, “It’s always good to be home.”

-❤-

Two Weeks Post-Op

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss!”

Emily freezes with one arm reaching desperately above doctor-recommended height, and another gripping the cabinet door like their life depends on it. They press their forehead into the shelf, groaning, “That’s not my middle name.”

“I can make up whatever name I want! You know what Dr. Dolan said, and this is so far out of bounds!” Penelope stands in the kitchen threshold with her hands on her hips. She sighs and tugs Emily away from the cereal cabinet by their waist. When their arms are safely lowered to their sides, Penelope puts on her serious face, with her seriously furrowed eyebrows, and her serious frown on her lips. She asks, “Do you, like, want to injure yourself? Is this your new favorite hobby?”

Emily is petulant. “No, I want breakfast, and it’s on the third shelf. Let’s just pretend you got it for me, okay?”

Penelope grumbles her frustrations under her breath as she pulls down the family size box of Lucky Charms. She flurries around the space until she’s collected a bowl and spoon and settled them on the other side of the kitchen counter, where a bar stool and carton of milk wait for Emily.

“Sit,” Penelope orders. Emily complies with a glint in their eyes.

“Thank you,” they say, saturating their words with genuine love.

“Oh, stuff it.” Penelope pecks a kiss to their cheek regardless. She tries not to think about how cute Emily is when they’re smug, but it’s a losing battle. The way their nose scrunches, the smirk; not helping. Instead, Penelope picks a smidgeon of a fight.

“Your hair is greasy.”

And Emily’s face falls flat and exasperated. They let their spoon rest in the pool of marshmallows. “Can we do this after I eat?”

“Oh, lovebug. Absolutely not,” Penelope smiles knowingly. “You haven’t washed it in like, four days, which tells me that it’s not as easy as you said it was. Y’know, I was wondering who said washing your own hair was too much work immediately after having an operation? It would have to be someone super smart and beautiful and funny and—”

“It was you, Penelope. We all know it was you.”

“Funny; it was, wasn’t it?”

But Penelope lets them finish their cereal. She was about to eat her own Eggo waffles, after all. Once the dishes are rinsed and in the washer, she marches Emily straight into their bathroom. The tub thankfully doesn’t share a wall with the toilet, making it easier for Emily to scoot in next to the faucet. Penelope folds Emily’s towel (the towel that is dark purple, and not spring green, which Penelope keeps carefully out of the splash zone) (unlike Emily, who does not mind if their towel is damp long after it should be dry, and probably growing some type of mold) (okay, it’s not growing mold, but Penelope insists that it will eventually become mold-ridden if Emily doesn’t start hanging it up more consistently) along the side of the tub. Emily fits the towel under their neck, and Penelope guides them into position.

“Your hair is so thick,” Penelope comments.

Emily says, “You tell me that once a week.”

“Because it is. Now close your eyes.”

Penelope detaches the removable showerhead and lets the water warm her hand. When it’s a comfortable temperature, she douses Emily’s head. She maneuvers carefully around Emily’s forehead to avoid hitting their face, though Emily’s eyelids flutter when they worry the stream is near. Penelope thinks with their long eyelashes, they look like butterflies about to take flight.

She works the shampoo in with a gentle, but thorough touch. It’s when she rubs the lather into Emily’s scalp that Emily lets a soft moan break, and Penelope smiles. She takes pride in her work, whether she’s at her desk or in her soapy bathroom.

The shampoo swirls down the drain as Penelope rinses Emily free. Emily opens their eyes and tries to sit up, but Penelope pins their shoulders to the tub.

“Hold on! I haven’t conditioned yet.”

“Isn’t shampoo enough? We’re going to be here again in three days. It’s a hassle.”

Penelope does not think so. For the low price of two-thousand dollars and the risk of post-op complications, Penelope’s seen her girlfriend relax for the first time in, maybe ever. She’s going to drag it out as long as she can. Which, for right now, means dumping a handful of conditioner into her palm and rubbing it through the tips of Emily’s hair.

The final rinse is cleansing, like the weight falls from Emily’s shoulders. Penelope swipes the towel from Emily’s neck and cocoons their hair inside. She manages to keep their shirt dry, for the most part. Emily sits up with a pain in their shoulders, and does their best to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” Penelope prompts. Their best is not nearly good enough, not when Penelope has the analytical eye of someone who loves them. Penelope plants Emily on their shared bed for the first time since their surgery, already grateful to have a little of Emily’s smell in the room again. She sits behind them and overlaps their legs with hers. Penelope digs into the knots wound through their back as if she's torturing for information.

“It’s almost like you have a stressful job or something,” Penelope says.

Emily snorts. “Yeah, something like that.”

Penelope massages her way down until Emily feels looser under her fingers. She leans her head into the crook of Emily’s shoulder and presses a kiss to their skin. “We could ask for more time off,” she offers.

Emily slouches against Penelope’s body. “We could. But we have to go back at some point.”

“Let’s pretend we don’t.”

Emily exhales. “Sounds good to me.”

#penemily #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #criminal minds #penemily fic #text #mine #cm

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moonbeambucky · 5 years ago

Text

Hey Neighbor (Part 9)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3827 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 8 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

The lobby of Stark Industries is bright and almost blinding compared to the dull grey that looms over the city outside. To make matters worse, the sky would darken into a deep black in just a few hours, a depressing casualty of setting the clocks back.

It was mid-November with winter closing in. You bundle up your coat, adjusting your scarf before daring to step outside. You were having a conversation with Steve, or at least you thought you were.

“He’s been like this all day,” Mr. Lee said, laughing as a confused Steve finally picked his head up from his phone.

Steve apologized as his cheeks turned pink, again. He was texting Peggy and he just couldn’t help the way he felt about her. They had gone on a few dates since they met on Halloween weekend and Steve was one-hundred percent smitten.

“Well anyway, I have to head to Metro-Gen now so you boys have a good afternoon,” you said, saluting them before stepping outside.

Your internship was going well. It had only been a few months but you were very comfortable working in this type of environment. You were familiar with the hospital and some of the ER staff other than Sam. You assisted Elena with her cases and tried not to forget everything you’ve ever learned while under pressure. It was scary but exciting and most of all you were happy to provide assistance and care to those that needed it.

When the weekend finally came you were thrilled to finish up your hours at the hospital. You were cold and tired, and really wanted to take off your bra immediately. Wanda was coming over which was rare since she and Sam became official. Any time he had off they tried to spend together and you understood it, especially with the hours required for his job but you really missed her and were happy to finally hang out after so long.

“So you seriously can’t eat this?” you said, taking a hefty dip of guacamole onto your chip.

“Uh yes I can bitch, don’t hog all the guacamole,” Wanda joked, pushing you aside as she grabbed the dish for herself. “I just can’t eat the chips.”

Wanda was always trying new diets, not that she ever needed to be on one. She was doing the Keto diet now and while you applauded her commitment you could never give up carbs like that.

She sat cross legged on your couch, moving her fork around her bowl absentmindedly as she worked up the courage to speak. “So I wanted to ask you something…”

A pang of anxiety hit your stomach as it tends to do whenever someone says those words, but you tried to remain neutral, wondering what Wanda was going to say.

“I know we usually have Thanksgiving together but Sam happened to be off this year and I know it’s really soon but he invited me for dinner at his parents’ house and I haven’t said yes yet because I wanted to speak with you first because I know it’s our tradition to do something together but– ”

“Wanda!” You had to shout her name so she could stop and take a breath. You smiled at her, letting her know you were okay with her having Thanksgiving with Sam. “I’m really happy for you,” you said against her ear as she leaned over to hug you.

That night you thought about Wanda and Steve, how they both got into a relationship on Halloween. Meanwhile, the only thing you got that night was a blister on your heel.

“Hey neighbor.”

Bucky’s voice echoed from down the hall as he stepped out of the elevator, seeing you locking your door, with a laundry bag at your feet.

With everyone’s new relationships and Natasha prepping for a case no one has gone out since Halloween and things definitely felt a little weird.

“Hey,” you replied shakily, offering an awkward smile in return.

The truth was you were still upset with Bucky on Halloween. Well, not just you but the whole group. It had been weighing on you each day that passed without seeing him. The closer Bucky got to you and his door, the more nervous you felt and you really wanted to get this off your chest.

“Bucky… sorry this is out of the blue but…” You chewed on your lip trying to figure out exactly what to say.

His brows knit together. “Is everything alright?”

You forced a tense smile, wishing you hadn’t said anything in the first place, especially with the way concern filled those ocean blue eyes of his.

“Yeah I just…” With another big sigh you pushed the words out. “I thought it was kind of rude for you to ditch everyone on Halloween without saying goodbye. I know we’re not that close and you don’t owe me or anyone an explanation for wanting to leave or whatever but I don’t know, I just… needed to say that.”

Your lips pressed together firmly, feeling your heart pound rapidly against your chest as you waited to face whatever backlash there was after sharing your feelings.

Bucky sighed, letting his shoulders slump down. “I’m sorry Y/N. Honestly, that’s not how I wanted that night to end. But you were talking with that guy so I didn’t want to interrupt anything and everyone else had each other so I thought I’d do my own thing.”

“Guy? What guy?” You wondered out loud. When Bucky described him you realized he was talking about Bruce. “You thought something was going on with me and that guy? No, no. He’s a friend from work, just a friend.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to block… anything… just in case.” Bucky chuckled, flashing his bright teeth as he smiled. “Still that was a dick move of me so I’m sorry.”

You accepted Bucky’s apology, feeling a little better about why he left the way he did. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t have left with that girl anyway, not that you care, because you don’t. Although now that most of your friends were in relationships you were feeling a little envious. It’s not that you didn’t want to date but you were too focused on work and school at the moment.

“Well I guess I’ll see you later,” you said, picking up your laundry bag.

“Wait!”

Throughout your conversation one thing stuck out the most in Bucky’s mind, when you said you weren’t close. He really thought you were and he’s not sure why it affected him so much but he wanted to change that and make it right.

You’ve definitely become a good friend of his even if you hadn’t gotten off on the right foot. And maybe he’s been a little busy lately, he hasn’t kept up on the group chat and didn’t think about how his lack of communication impacted anyone else. You were his friend, and so were Steve, Sam, Natasha, Clint and Wanda. He wanted to do better and be there for everyone so he might as well start now.

“If you wouldn’t mind the company I actually need to do my laundry too.”

There wasn’t any hesitation as you nodded back to him, your lips pulling into a smile that grew wider when he returned one of his own. Bucky took a few minutes to gather his laundry and together you walked a few blocks to the laundromat.

It wasn’t too crowded for a Sunday afternoon which was a pleasant surprise so the machines were pretty available. Bucky shared his detergent with you which was kind, saving your quarters from buying the single use packs the shop offered.

You sat beside him on uncomfortable chairs, bouncing your leg to keep warm as you shivered. There was some heat circulating through the room, a muggy wet heat that poured out every time someone opened the machines to check on their still damp clothes. Bucky was a good distraction, keeping you focused on your conversation as you caught up on what’s been going on in your lives.

“Thanksgiving’s going to be a little weird this year with Wanda and Steve doing their own thing but it’s alright.”

Bucky heard the disappointment you tried to hide in your tone but your face didn’t mask the emotions as well. He listened as you explained this was your tradition since you moved to New York. Since you couldn’t afford to fly home for both Thanksgiving and the holidays you had to choose, and so every year you spent the day with friends.

“Why don’t you spend it with me?” he asked, watching as the corner of your mouth slowly began to turn upwards into a smile.

“With you? You don’t go to your parent’s house?”

Bucky’s expression softened, “Normally I do but this year they’re flying out to spend Thanksgiving weekend with Rebecca.”

“Where does she live again?”

“It’s ‘they’ and Arizona.” Bucky rubbed the chill from his arms despite wearing a jacket. “Kinda wish I was there right now,” he chuckled.

The machines shook for their final spin cycle and you and Bucky got up in preparation to grab your clothes.

“You didn’t want to go with them?” you wondered.

“I’ve got a lot to work on plus I’ll see Bex soon, they usually come in for Christmas. So… is that a yes? I know I’m not Wanda or Steve but I’m still your friend.”

Bucky’s expression was hopeful as he awaited your answer. A beaming smile spread across your face as you replied, “Yes. I’d love to have Thanksgiving with you!”

If you looked at Bucky’s browser history over the last few weeks you would find a lot of food related searches: How to cook a turkey, how long to cook a turkey, how to cook a turkey fast, easiest way to cook a turkey, simple Thanksgiving dinner, Thanksgiving for 2, best Thanksgiving sides.

He wanted to make your Thanksgiving special but truthfully Bucky wasn’t the best in the kitchen. He could cook a few things but the idea of making a full Thanksgiving dinner was daunting and he couldn’t exactly ask his mother for help.

Since it was going to be just the two of you he finally found his answer– Thanksgiving dinner on a sheet pan. Bucky wrote out the list of groceries he needed, making sure he had everything needed so he could prepare the dinner.

You were working a full day at the hospital so Bucky had extra time to prepare for your arrival. His clothes were folded neatly, placed in his drawers that could now actually close. He made his bed, well he made sure the pillows were straight and draped his comforter over everything neatly. His instruments were gathered together neatly beside his desk and he made sure his bathroom was clean. Bucky spritzed his cologne in the air for good measure to make sure everything smelled nice.

Once that was done it finally dawned on him that he didn’t have a table. “Good job Barnes,” he scolded himself as he cleared away the last remaining clutter on the trunk that served as his coffee table. It would have to make do.

Bucky opened the package he bought at the store, a harvest themed tablecloth that was entirely too big for the trunk but with a few extra folds he made it look alright. It was an extra touch he hoped you would be happy to see. Checking his phone Bucky began to prepare the food, hoping to time it right for when you were coming by.

“No, no, no,” you cried, passing another bakery that was sold out of pies.

You hadn’t planned this properly. Not one bit. With Bucky preparing dinner you offered to bring the dessert and for some reason you thought making pumpkin pie from scratch would be easy. You were very wrong.

By the time you got home last night you were too exhausted to even look at the recipe. You needed sleep and had no shame in going to bed pretty much right away. The fact that it gets dark before five o’clock definitely helped you justify your early bedtime.

The genius idea you had was to wake up a little early so you could make the pie crust which might have worked out if you hadn’t overslept. Yes, despite the extra sleep you got your body wanted more.

Although you made it to work on time you ruined any shot at trying to snag a pie from any bakery along the way. Now you were headed home, defeated and upset with yourself for ruining Thanksgiving.

You trudged through the hallway, sighing heavily as you stood outside of Bucky’s apartment. Your knuckles rapped against the door, waiting for him to answer. Bucky pulled open the door with a smile that dropped the moment he saw your face.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” His hand came upon your shoulder as he offered comfort.

With another deep sigh you shook your head, “No… well yes.” You reconsidered your words, not wanting to worry him. “I ruined Thanksgiving.”

His mouth opened but Bucky didn’t speak, silently wondering why you think you’ve ruined something that hasn’t happened yet.

“I said I would bring dessert and I wanted to bake but I was too exhausted, so I thought I’d get something from the store but everything was sold out and now I feel like a shitty friend.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the way you pouted so seriously over something as insignificant as dessert.

“Hey, c’mere,” he said, opening his arms. You rested your head against Bucky’s chest wrapping your arms around him as he rubbed circles on your back through your jacket. “You didn’t ruin anything, doll, I promise.”

With a few more reassurances from Bucky you pulled away from his embrace, feeling a little better even if part of you was still disappointed. You told him you would be over in a few minutes, desperate to change your clothes.

Bucky’s door was unlocked and you let yourself in, now wearing a loose sweater and black leggings that would allow you to feel comfortable as you stuffed your face, and casual slip-ons your feet thanked you for. Bucky was equally casual, in a dark grey t-shirt and black jeans so you didn’t feel bad for underdressing.

You stepped inside seeing the coffee table set up in a themed tablecloth and a scented pumpkin candle that smelled delicious as it spread throughout the room.

“Dinner should be ready in a minute or so. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked as you set your bag down beside the couch.

“Wine, I guess?” You weren’t really picky to be honest, happily taking the glass of Pinot Noir as Bucky poured for you and himself.

Bucky barely had a chance to take a sip before the alarm on his phone was going off, his reminder to take the food out of the oven.

“I hope this is okay,” he said, pulling out the sheet pan of turkey breasts surrounded by stuffing, green beans and sweet potatoes.

Your mouth was watering as you inhaled the enticing aroma. “Mmmm it looks delicious. Do you need any help?”

Bucky shook his head, telling you to relax. It was hard, because even though you were still pretty tired from the day you felt like you should be doing more than sipping wine on his couch. You stared at Bucky as he stood in the kitchen, dividing the food amongst two plates.

The muscles of his back were entrancing to watch as they moved beneath his shirt. Dropping your gaze you couldn’t help but stare at the way his jeans hugged his butt.

“You like what you see?”

Bucky’s voice seemingly came out of nowhere as you hadn’t realized he was looking over his shoulder.

“What? No, I’m… tired and stuck in a comfortable stare,” you laughed quickly, masking the awkwardness of definitely getting caught staring at his ass.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. He placed both dishes down, proud of the work he had done. Pressing his lips together Bucky had hope written across his face as he waited for your reaction.

Your hand came up to cover your mouth as you tried to chew fast enough so you could tell him how delicious it was. A smile stretched across his face, happy that he made you happy, and then Bucky began to dig in.

There wasn’t much to watch after deciding to skip over all the football games and sitcom reruns but choosing from Netflix wasn’t much better. There were a dozen cheesy, romantic Christmas movies but neither of you wanted to watch any of those.

“Oh how about this?” Bucky asked as he flashed by Nailed It! Your eyes lit up with delight as you nodded your head. If there was one show that made you feel better about your baking skills it was watching these hilarious disasters.

Bucky had the cutest laugh. The sound itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but the way that his whole face lit up while he was laughing. The joy reached his eyes first with crinkles pulling at the corners, his nose scrunched up reminding you of a bunny, and that smile… Bucky had one of the nicest smiles you’d ever seen because it had the power to make your own greater just by looking at it.

You were crying with laughter as the contestants revealed their cakes, each one somehow more horrifying than the last. By the third episode you found yourself comfortably resting your head against Bucky. It was nice to have someone to hang out with like this again especially since Steve had rightfully been spending most of his free time with Peggy.

“I hope you don’t get your baking skills from this show. Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t make pie,” Bucky teased. Your immediate response was to playfully smack his leg. “Ow I’m kidding!”

“It would have been good, a thousand times better than this,” you gestured towards the screen.

Bucky cocked his head to face you. “So let’s make it now.”

Your head shook rejecting his suggestion. “It takes too long. The dough needs to rest for a while after you mix it and I don’t want to eat pie at two in the morning. Not when I have to get up early again.”

With another day off from Stark Industries you’d be spending a full day at the hospital, trying to chip away at all those hours you needed to do.

“It’s still early, we can make something right? Cookies? Is that the same dough?” Bucky asked, because even though you had to be up early he still wanted to spend time with you and he could also go for dessert.

“It’s not exactly the same but I have all the ingredients. Do you want to make cookies?”

Bucky’s stomach rumbled as if on cue making both of you laugh.

Since it was easier to bake in your apartment you helped Bucky clean up the dishes you made in his, feeling it was rude to leave things a mess. Bucky didn’t want you to clean but you at least insisted on rinsing the plates clean and since you were at the sink anyway you ended up washing most of them.

You didn’t see the way Bucky smiled while watching you. This was probably the only time he’s felt comfortable having a woman linger in his apartment. His flings all begged to draw out their time, promising him pancakes or the best eggs and bacon he’s ever had. As hard as they tried, he shut them all down ushering them out quickly but things with you were different. You were friends and closer than he would ever be to any of the random names in his phone.

In your apartment Bucky helped gather the ingredients needed. Counter space and New York didn’t exactly go together, not in your price range, but together you cleared space on your kitchen table and set everything up there.

Bucky ignored his phone that rang as he cracked eggs into the large bowl you were using to mix everything together in. He picked up the bag of chocolate chips pouring a generous amount in the dough, not that you minded; the more chocolate the better!

Together you scooped up balls of dough onto a baking sheet and placed them in the oven.

“Bucky!” You turned to find him swiping his finger through the bowl of raw dough and eating it.

“What?”

“You can’t eat that you’ll get sick!” you protested, taking the bowl away from him and washing it before he could risk his chance of getting E. coli any further.

He sucked his finger into his mouth, smiling, “No one has ever gotten sick from eating raw cookie dough.” His comment had you look back, blinking in silence. “Okay well I’m sure someone has but it’s never happened to me.”

“I want you to enjoy these cookies Bucky, not vomit all over the place.”

He brought over the rest of the bowls that needed to be washed, this time taking over and returning the favor since you washed his dishes. “You mean you wouldn’t take care of me if I got sick?” He pouted, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows.

“Not a chance,” you said teasingly, unable to hold back your smile.

Checking your phone you pulled out the cookies just in time for them to be crisp and chewy. After letting them cool you let Bucky take the first bite this time, watching as his eyes rolled back as he let a sinful moan slip.

“So fucking good. You’re amazing.”

This isn’t the first time you’d heard similar praise coming from Bucky, and combined with the orgasmic look on his face it made you turn away with embarrassment, now having a visual of what things might be like at night on the side of the wall. You grabbed a cookie to distract your mind, biting into buttery perfection with a massive amount of chocolate thanks to Bucky’s heavy hand.

“Thanks for a great Thanksgiving Bucky. Tonight was awesome,” you said, kissing him on the cheek before wrapping your arms around him.

“You’re welcome Y/N,” he murmured against you, squeezing back a little tighter, both of you now aware of the friendly kiss you had given him.

Bucky left with a dish containing most of the cookies at your insistence. He couldn’t help but eat a few more when he was back in his apartment. Before getting into bed Bucky listened to the voicemail he received earlier.

“Hi James, it’s Mom. We missed you tonight. I don't know why your deadline was on a holiday but I hope you finished everything. I set aside some leftovers in case you wanted to come over tomorrow. Call me back. I love you.”

PART 10

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

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So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura.

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items.

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question.

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide.

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly.

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative.

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city.

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world.

Now?

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers.

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies.

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.”

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.”

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines.

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you?

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger.

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence?

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail.

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite.

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him.

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura.

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time.

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you.

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible.

He’s been changing a lot lately.

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection.

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice.

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her.

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something.

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off.

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner.

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start.

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is.

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him?

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command?

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident.

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed.

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this.

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you.

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice.

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).”

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers.

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).”

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling...

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms.

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling.

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing.

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?”

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on.

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement.

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right?

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things.

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and...

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his.

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open.

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again.

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost.

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this.

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care.

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip.

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for.

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way.

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @evesmores

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

226 notes · View notes

awxward · 4 years ago

Text

Potential

gen // 3.7k words

I had the idea of Juza hugging Kumon and his mom, crying bc he was finally able to audition/get accepted into theatre, and then I wrote this.

read on a03

gift for @xxxbookaholic

Juza had told his mother and brother about his dreams of being an actor a lot. They supported him through it all. He went to auditions for the school plays and was turned down immediately. In his first year of middle school, he stopped going to auditions. What was the point if he was only going to be turned away in the end? Juza had long since given up hope on his dream, yet now, just a few years after he had given up he got to see his cousin on stage. Muku who had always been anxious and shy was standing boldly on stage and being a new person. Juza wished he could do that. To stand on stage and be someone that people would be afraid of or start fights with. He wanted a place to escape. After the play had ended, Juza got up to leave, he didn’t want to embarrass Muku by showing his face backstage, besides Mom was back home with Kumon who was sick with a fever and could probably use some help around the house. A small flyer caught his attention. He wasn’t sure why he grabbed it, he just knew he had to keep it away from his family. He had long since given up on his dream to stand on stage, he hadn’t auditioned in years, he hadn’t been to a theatre in years before tonight, and still, he found himself folding the paper into a small square and shoving it in his pocket.

Mankai Company is looking for actors for the new Autumn Troupe. Auditions are going to be held tomorrow, August 28, at 9 am in the Mankai Theatre.

When Juza got home he kept the paper in his pocket so it wouldn’t be found and put his jacket on his bed. All auditions ended the same for him. He knew he’d be turned away at the door. If he didn’t tell mom or Kumon, well it’d just keep them from feeling sad for him. He went to check on Kumon who was sleeping, and made his way back to his room to get ready for bed. He fell asleep to thoughts of standing on stage.

The next morning, Juza got ready quicker than normal. He didn’t want to be late to the auditions. Better to be early so nobody else could see him get turned away as soon as he walked in. He checked his jacket pocket and sighed in relief, the paper was still there so nobody knew. He checked on Kumon, who was still sleeping and feverish, before hugging his mother and telling her he’d be back a little bit later.

Juza would have been on time had it not been for the punk Banri following him and trying to pick fights with him every other minute. Now, because he had to spend so long trying to ditch Banri, he was late and would have to deal with the embarrassment of everybody seeing him turned away at the door.

He looked at the theatre sign. Maybe he could just walk away now and forget about all of this.

“Excuse me, are you here for the Autumn Troupe auditions?”

Juza turned around, very surprised at the sudden voice next to him. It was a shorter man with glasses and a really bad sense of style.

“Don’t be shy, come on in!”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Isuke Matsukawa, the manager at Mankai. The director is inside with the Summer Troupe and a couple others who just walked in. Would you like me to show you to the stage where the auditions are going to be?”

Juza was confused. This short man, Matsukawa, was offering to show him to the stage for auditions? Was he really not going to be turned away? Would he actually have a chance? For the first time since he saw the paper, he wished he had mentioned it to his mom and brother. They’d be so happy he’d get to actually audition.

“Thank you. That would be nice, sir.”

“You can drop the sir part, it makes me feel old. Anyway, follow me!”

Matsukawa led Juza into the theatre where he had been the night before, watching Muku shine on stage. Today he saw the summer troupe in casual clothes and two boys who were chatting with everybody there. In the middle of the group was the odd one, the only girl. She had long brown hair that went down to her waist and Juza thought her eyes looked like they were the same color as caramel.

“That’s Izumi Tachibana, the director. She’s doing the auditions today!”

Juza suddenly felt his heart drop. Girls tended to avoid him or run away from him and if she was doing the auditions, she probably wouldn’t take him seriously, if she even let him up on stage at all.

“Director” Matsukawa called out and Izumi looked up and smiled. “I found someone interested in auditioning!”

He led Juza down to the group, and suddenly he was standing next to Muku.

“Ju-”

Juza slightly shook his head. He didn’t want them to think any less of Muku because they were related. It’d be best if Muku didn’t talk to him casually.

“What’s your name?” Izumi asked as Matsukawa made his way outside.

“Juza Hyodo.”

“Hi, Juza, I’m Izumi Tachibana, the director of Mankai Company. The summer troupe is here helping with auditions!”

“I’m Muku Sakisaka.”

“Kazunari Miyoshi, my dude! Nice to meet you!”

“I’m Yuki Rurikawa. Yes, I wear dresses and yes, I am a boy. Hack, just because you’re a celebrity doesn’t mean you happen to be exempt from introductions!”

“I know that! And I’m not a hack! Tenma Sumeragi, Summer Troupe leader.”

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiii! I’m Misumi! Do you like tri-tri-triangles?”

This was a weird bunch of people. “Nice to meet you all and triangles are cool I guess?”

The purple haired one, Misumi smiled at him and shoved something in his hands. “Here’s a Mr. Triangle for you! He’ll give you good luck!”

“Misumi.” Izumi called out. “We’ve talked about this. You have to ask if it’s okay to give them a Mr. Triangle.”

“Because people may not like it being shoved at them and I need to wait for an answer?”

“Exactly! I’m glad you remember it, but you should apologize and ask if he wants to still hold it, okay?”

“Okaaaaaay.” Misumi turned away from Izumi back to him. “Sorry for shoving a Mr. Triangle at you. I should have asked if you wanted to hold him before giving him to you, because it’s rude to randomly shove things at people and I should have waited so you could answer. Do you still want to hold Mr. Triangle?”

Juza smiled at him. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll hold him. Thank you.”

Misumi smiled. “Yay! Juza likes the Mr. Triangle!”

“Alright boys, if you’re auditioning I want you to line up in front of the stage! Summer Troupe, you can sit down along the first row if you want.”

Juza made his way to the stage next to two others. A man with brown hair and a scar on his chin and a boy with red hair. They both smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I found another one interested!” Matsukawa burst in and Juza felt his heart drop as he stared at the face who was beside him, Banri Settsu.

“I didn’t say I was interested, asshat! I was looking for someone to fight!”

“What are you doing here?”

Banri noticed Juza standing there. “That’s my line, asshole.” He took a step forward and Juza followed suit. Red hair looked like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Brown hair had a look on his face that Juza couldn’t read.

“Well, this isn’t very peaceful.” Brown hair spoke up.

Suddenly Red hair’s face lit up. “I know you, Juza! You go to my school!”

Banri shot off another insult and Juza fired one back. They kept this going until a voice cut through.

“Will the both of you stop with the shouting! If you don’t wanna be here then leave. The only fights that should happen in theatre are stage fights!”

Juza and Banri both froze to see a blonde man standing in the doorway with a very serious look on his face. Juza stepped back beside red hair. Banri stood on his other side. Izumi’s face lit up. Juza noticed Muku looked scared. If he learned that the blonde man had somehow hurt Muku, he would fight him right here.

“Thank you for coming! I didn’t think you’d make it!”

“Wait, Sakyo was the other person you scouted for Autumn?”

Juza filed this information away. If Muku knew the man’s name was Sakyo and looked scared of him, something might have happened and Juza was ready to throw punches if he learned of any incidents.

“It’s the Yakuza.” Green hair said, Juza thought they said their name was Yuki, but he couldn’t remember.

And then his full line hit Juza as red hair spoke up. “Y-yakuza?”

“Now, now, looks can be deceiving.” Izumi spoke up. “Sakyo has watched over the theatre for years. He knows and loves this company more than anybody else here. I think he’s a necessary asset to us.”

“So he’s not just a scary debt collector?” Tenma asked.

“Can we stop with the idle talking and get on to acting? I have other things to do today.” Sakyo spoke up.

Izumi nodded and gestured for him to join the line and then passed lines to everybody. “When you boys go up on stage I want you to introduce yourself and tell us your experience with acting, then recite the lines I gave you.”

Brown hair went up first. “My name is Omi Fushimi, I’m a uni student at Yosei University, and I’m in the photography club. I’ve never acted before.”

Juza thought Omi did well. His voice was loud and clear, even if he didn’t know how to move. He finished and Izumi gestured for him to join Summer Troupe in the front row.

Red hair walked up. “My name is Taichi Nanao, and I’m a second year at O High! I’m a total newbie to this as well!”

For being a total newbie, Taichi did amazing. His voice was loud and clear, and his actions were a bit clumsy, but you could tell what he wanted to show.

Izumi pointed at Banri and he went up. “Banri Settsu, Hana High third year. Never been on a stage before.”

Juza hated to admit it, but Banri was good. He had good timing for pausing and expressed his emotions clearly, his voice was loud and clear. He was even better than Taichi had been.

“Are you sure you’ve never been on stage before?”

“Yeah, but it ain’t no problem for me.”

“Alright. Can you come join the others on the front row? Juza, you’re next.”

Juza was terrified. “I’m Juza Hyodo, a third year at O High. I’ve never acted before.”

He went through his lines and when he was done he looked into the audience seats. Summer Troupe looked intrigued, Omi had a sad smile on his face, and Taichi gave him a thumbs up. Banri started laughing.

“You are the worst, Hyodo, I swear-”

“Banri, if you are going to bully Juza or anybody else you will not be allowed to join this company do you understand.” Izumi had a steely look on her face and Juza imagined that if she got really angry she’d be scarier than the Sakyo guy.

“I want to join the theatre, please.” Juza ignored Banri and bowed as low as he possibly could.

“Stand up, Juza. You can join.” Izumi smiled softly at him.

“Really?”

“Of course. Go sit in the front row.’

“How do you plan to improve Hyodo’s acting?”

“Izumi makes training regimens for each actor so they can work on the things they struggle with! They’re really fun and the others are always happy to join you if you want them too! They helped me be less anxious!” Muku spoke up. Summer troupe nodded.

“Yeah, Sakuya, the Spring Troupe leader, said that she’ll adjust the regimens as needed!” Tenma added on. “She does her research and thinks about what would be best for each actor to develop and grow, both on and off stage!”

“So he’s really going to join?” Banri seemed like he was trying to convince himself it was a joke.

“It’s better to have someone with little talent and lots of passion than someone with some talent and no passion. If you don’t like it, you can leave, the door is back there, boy.”

“What’d you just say to me, you old man?”

“Alright, both of you, stop it. Juza is joining and that’s final. Juza, you can come find a seat down here.”

Juza sat beside Misumi and pulled the Mr. Triangle out of his pocket. “Do you want your triangle back?”

Misumi smiled at him. “You can keep him! He’s going to bring you good luck!”

Juza smiled at him. “Thank you, Misumi.”

Sakyo walked on stage. “I’m Sakyo Furuichi. I work with the Ginsenkai Family. I acted as a kid, but I haven’t been on stage since.”

Though he said he hadn’t been on stage since he was young, Juza could tell he remembered the basics. His voice was clear and smooth, and his actions were clumsy like Taichi’s but he was able to cover up some of the clumsiness by changing his actions.

“Welcome, boys, to the Mankai Company Autumn Troupe! Now, for some smaller details now that you’ve joined. Mankai company has dorms that are available if you want to stay there. If you are a minor, I will need to call and talk to your parents to get their permission. If you don’t want to stay in the dorms, or you are unable to, you can still travel between the theatre and your house.”

The other four boys volunteered to stay in the dorms and after some phone calls Banri and Taichi were allowed to join Omi and Sakyo in the dorms.

Izumi turned to Juza. “Would you like to stay in the dorms? Moving day is next Saturday.”

“Can I talk to my family first and talk to you about it later?”

Izumi smiled. “Of course. Sakuya from Spring Troupe is usually here practicing, but the others come in often as well, so stop by here and someone can lead you to the dorms to talk to me, okay.”

Juza nodded. The boys all went their separate ways.

Juza felt like he was in a dream his entire walk home. For the first time in his life, he was able to audition and he got accepted in, even though he was so bad compared to everyone else. He opened the door. “I’m home.”

“Welcome back, Juza!” His mom poked her head around the corner. “Juza, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“His mom wiped her thumb across his face. “You’re crying. Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

“I- actually, is Kumon awake?”

“Yeah, his fever went down a bit. He’s been waiting for you. Let me check you for injuries.”

“Mom, I’m not injured, I swear, but I need to talk to you and Kumon together, so I’ll bring him to the couch, okay.”

“If you insist you aren’t hurt, I’ll believe you, but if you are lying to me, you’ll be in trouble.”

“Understood.” Juza smiled and made his way to Kumon’s room. He knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, Kumon. Are you feeling better?”

Kumon beamed at him. “Yep! My fever went down a bit! Are you crying? Is everything okay? Did you get hurt? Does mom know?”

“Kumon, I’m not hurt.”

“Pinky promise?” Kumon held up a hand, pinky extended.

Juza linked their hands, “Pinky promise.” Kumon smiled. “Good.”

“I do need to talk to you and mom together. Are you feeling well enough to go to the couch?”

Kumon nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Juza stayed by his side as they made their way down the hall to the living room. Kumon sat on the couch and tried to catch his breath. Their mom walked in and handed Kumon a glass of water before sitting down next to him. Juza sat across from them on the other couch.

“I didn’t tell you where I was going today.”

“Yes, you did leave that detail out when you left.”

“I found a flyer last night. For auditions for a theatre troupe.”

Kumon looked up with wide eyes and his mom smiled at him gently. “Is that why you were crying? Did you get turned away again?”

“No, they let me audition.”

His mom and Kumon froze for a moment before smiling like crazy.

“What happened, Juza?” Kumon was vibrating in his spot.

“I got accepted into the theatre company.” Juza was aware that tears were falling down his face again, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as his brother and mother ran over to hug him.

“Which theatre company did you join?”

“Mankai Company.”

“I’ve heard of them somewhere.”

“Auntie and Uncle mentioned them. It’s Muku’s theatre troupe.”

“You’ll be acting with Muku!”

“No, Mankai is split into four sub-troupes based on the seasons. Muku is in the Summer Troupe. I am in the Autumn Troupe.”

“That’s amazing!”

“There’s more. They have dorms. The director wanted to know if I’d be interested in staying there. Moving day is next Saturday, and she’ll need your permission to allow me to stay there.”

His mom smiled at him. “Do you want to stay in the dorms?”

“I do. There are other actors there I can learn from and I want to stay close so I can get along with my troupe mates.”

“Then I give my permission.”

“I’ll visit often, I promise.”

“Juza, what’s in your pocket?”

Juza pulled out the Mr. Triangle. “When I first walked into the theatre one of the Summer Troupe boys, Misumi, shoved it in my hands. He said it was a Mr. Triangle for good luck. He also told me I could keep it.”

“That was very kind of him.”

“It must really have good luck in it! You get it and then you can audition for the first time and you get accepted into the same troupe as Muku!

Juza smiled. “I think you’re right, Kumon.”

“When can I talk to the director about you staying in the dorms?”

“She said that tomorrow there’ll be guys in the theatre who can take us to the dorms to talk to her.”

“I wanna go too.”

“If your fever is still there, you’ll be staying in bed. If it’s gone, you have baseball practice.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Don’t worry Kumon. I’m sure you can stop by to visit the dorm sometime.”

“Okay.”

The next morning Juza wove through the streets with his mother until they were in front of the theatre. Juza opened the door.

“Citron, I don’t think that prop can be used as a sword1” A pink-haired boy was frantically trying to take a prop away from a man in a foreign looking outfit, who was laughing as he swung the prop around. The pink-haired boy looked up. “Oh, hello! I’m Sakuya, leader of the Spring Troupe! Can I help you?”

“I’m Juza Hyodo, this is my mom. I auditioned yesterday and needed to talk to my family about the dorms. I was told I could come here and someone would be able to bring me to the Director?”

“Nice to meet you, Juza! Nice to meet you, ma’am!” Sakuya smiled and jumped off the stage, the other one (Citron?) following close behind. “Just follow us!”

“Hi! I’m Citron!”

“Hello. Thank you.”

Sakuya and Citron led Juza and his mom down the road until they were in front of a large dorm building. Misumi was laying on the ground with a boy Juza didn’t recognize from auditions. Kazunari and Yuki saw Juza and made their way over.

“Hey! It’s Hyodle! What’s up, my dude? You here to talk to the director?” Kazunari was bouncing with energy.

“Hyodle?”

“Sorry, Friendly McExtrovert here gives everybody nicknames like that. I’m Yuki, in case you didn’t remember my name. There were a lot of names to remember yesterday.”

“We needed to talk to the director. Sakuya and Citron brought us here.” Juza looked around and realized the two had disappeared.

“They probably went back to the theatre. If they brought you here then they probably went back to clean up and lock up the theatre. They’ll be back soon.” Yuki turned and waved for them to follow.

Inside was chaotic. Several boys were running around. A couple of boys were arguing in the corner about something. Izumi stepped out from the hallway and all the boys froze.

“Please keep it down, I’m on the phone with Sakuya. He did well on his history test so he gets to choose what dinner is tonight.” She looked up and smiled at Juza and his mom. “I’ll be with you two in a moment, please, have a seat.”

Several boys finally noticed Juza and his mom standing awkwardly off to the side. Izumi stepped back into the room. “Would you two like to talk in the courtyard outside? Or maybe the kitchen?”

“The kitchen would be fine, dear.”

Juza and his mom followed Izumi back.

“Your name is Juza Hyodo, right?”

Juza nodded.

“Great! I wanted to make sure I remembered it properly.” She sent a smile to him and directed her attention to the side. “Are you his parent?”

“Yes, I’m his mother.”

“I’m assuming you’re here to talk with me about whatever decision you’ve made regarding the dorms.”

“You would be correct, dear. I wanted to let you know I’m giving permission for him to stay here.”

“That’s great! Saturday is move in day and we’ll decide roommates then too! Do either of you have questions about anything?”

“I have a few for you, dear.”

“Okay, ma’am. Juza, if you don’t have any questions you are more than welcome to go introduce yourself to the spring and summer troupes and explore the building.”

Juza nodded and got up.

This would be the start of a new Juza Hyodo.

#juza hyodo #kumon hyodo #a3!#my fic #autumn troupe

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

Text

Happiness Continues

Prologue

Summary: Jensen and Y/n take the plunge into their forever.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 5.3K+

Warnings: Language,

Author’s Note: Well, without further adieu, here she is! I’ve been so nervous to post this series because I wanted to make sure it lives up to all your expectations. Your feedback is gold, so please let me know what you think! xoxo Alex (Bold texts are Jensen, italicized are reader)

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

The sunlight from the grand windows on the west wall of the hall was quickly being replaced by the soft glow of the lights above and the candles flickering on the table. Indistinct chatter filled the small space that the couple had reserved for their rehearsal dinner. The group’s bellies were full and the drinks were still flowing.

“You’re looking a bit tired there,” Jensen’s hand landed on his fiancée’s thigh, squeezing gently to get her to look at him.

“Mmm, I am, but I’m not ready to go,” she hummed, her eyes heavy with the events of the day.

“Why’s that?”

“It’s gonna be weird, you know, sleeping away from you. I just got used to you being home lately,” the woman shrugged, placing her hand on top of his. She traced a pattern with her finger over his knuckles, her gaze concentrated on her task. Their friends and family continued to chat excitedly around them as the two slipped away into their own world without ever leaving the table.

“I know. I’m not used to having a whole bed to myself, or someone not stealing my covers in the night,” Y/n gasped low, looking up at Jensen to find him smirking at her, her favorite dimples on display on the corners of his lips. The woman scowled at him and his ability to be so freaking cute as a grown man.

“You know,” a mischievous smile grew on her face as she turned his hand over and linked their fingers together. “We aren’t married yet, there is absolutely nothing stopping me from, I don’t know, just not showing up tomorrow.”

Jensen hummed, “Happy wife, happy life.” receiving the exact reaction out his fiancée that he had hoped for; a sharp smack to his shoulder.

“Ugh, you know how much I hate that saying.” Jensen couldn’t help but laugh at the way she rolled her eyes. His fiancée joined in on the laughter, only for it to be broken by a wide yawn.

“Alright, that’s enough for you, honey. You need to sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” Y/n frowned at his declaration but she knew there was no use in fighting him. She wasn’t lying when she said it would be weird to not have him in bed with her tonight. Her one hope was exhausting her body to the point of passing out the minute her head hit the pillow. So far, it was working, seeing as she wasn’t even sure that she could stand from her chair and make it up to her room.

Y/n blinked slowly as Jensen stood from his chair, reaching out to help her to her feet. “Alright, I think it’s time I put this one to bed if I want her to get out of up tomorrow.”

“Ah, such a kidder,” Y/n mocked as the crowd laughed and bid the couple goodnight. Jensen slipped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to his side as he took her to the elevator. The entrepreneur leaned into him as they rode up to her floor, her eyes fluttering closed as she basked in his scent while she still could. The steady drum of his heart lulled her into a place she so desperately wanted to be, but the shudder of the cart had her eyes flashing open too soon.

“Alright, here we go,” Y/n handed over her keycard to Jensen and he pushed open the door. He let go of his grip on her and urged her in.

“You coming in?” She turned once through the threshold, looking back at him still in the hall.

“Nice try,” He smiled, the action softening his features. “One night, babe. We can make it through, then it’s you and me forever.”

Her tongue rolled out over her lips as she leaned against the door. “Aw, that was an adorable thing to say, you know that?”

“As long as you don’t tell Jared, then we are safe.”

“Ahhh, I’ve heard the things he’s said to Gen so he really has no place to talk,” Y/n quirked an eyebrow, eliciting a similar response from the man standing outside her door.

“Wait—”

“Goodnight Ackles,” her voice trailed off in a soft melody as she closed the door, his muttered ‘son of a bitch’ the last thing she heard before he was gone.

She made quick work of her nightly routine before settling into the plush comforter of her hotel bed. Her body sank into the cool sheets, the exhaustion winning over her body easily.

The only thing was it didn’t last for her. Y/n soon found herself tossing and turning under the plush covers. The bed was too large by herself, and every time her hand landed on an empty bed instead of her fiancé, she was jolted awake. She let out a huff as she stared up at the dark ceiling. A small sliver of light appeared suddenly and she turned over to grab her phone.

Hey baby, I hope you aren’t awake like I am, but I just wanted to tell you that I love you and I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.

Y/n smiled at the screen. Even after being together for almost two years, she kept finding more and more ways they were alike. What were the odds that both of them were lying awake in the middle of the night thinking of each other at the same time?

You’re out of luck. This bed is too big without you.

She shot him back a quick text before locking her phone and holding it against her chest. His reply took no time at all.

I know how you feel, believe me. Get some sleep, I’ll see you at the altar.

Y/n had to chuckle to herself.

The only thing coming to my mind now is stupidly cheesy, but I’m gonna say it anyway. I’ll be the one in white.

Hahaha, you’re right, that is cheesy. But I still love you.

You better.

Y/n put her phone back on the bedside table. Somehow, just talking to him and knowing he was up too made her feel better about sleeping alone. Maybe she should feel bad about smiling at him tossing and turning along without her, but right now she couldn’t care less because all it did was show her that she was making the right choice.

Y/n was out again within minutes.

****

When they say your wedding day goes by in a flash, they truly aren’t kidding. Y/n woke up more refreshed than she expected when her alarm went off in the morning. She was also far less anxious than she expected as she went about her usual morning routine. Coffee and yogurt were sent up to her room with a note from Jensen telling her he knew she would forget to eat unless he got her something, which had made her chuckle because he was right.

Her mother was there to pick her up and take her to the venue at noon. The older woman was quiet on the relatively short drive to the manor just outside Austin. Y/n knew it was only a matter of time until her mother was sobbing, so she was thankful for this time to relax and enjoy the sunshine.

When they finally arrived at The Grand Lady, there were few cars in the parking lot, most of them belong to her bridal party. The guys lucked out with being able to go out for lunch seeing as they didn’t need hours in a hair and makeup chair, a fact which she and Jensen disagreed on. She had insisted that she could do her own makeup and save some money, but he would not hear of her quote, working, unquote on her wedding day, so she went along with him and hired people to make her shine.

Genevieve, Mackenzie, and her high school friends Stella, Delilah, and Grace were already in the bridal suite when Y/n and her mother arrived. The champagne bottle from the mimosa bar was popped before she even had a chance to set her bag down. The young entrepreneur had to remind herself to take the drinks slowly, seeing as she was getting married later that evening, not that her bridesmaids held that same regard.

Before she knew it, it was nearing time to get into her dress. The photographer had already taken it from the bag earlier to photograph. Y/n stood staring up at the delicate material that glinted in the sunlight coming in the window. This was truly it. It was her wedding day, the day that she had given up on seeing a long time ago. If she thought about it too much, she was sure to ruin all the work that her crew had done on her face.

“Y/n/n,” Gen called her from across the room. Y/n spun back to look at the ladies enjoying themselves. “I’ve been tasked with handing over something special to the bride.”

Cheers came from the other women in the room, all eager to find out what exactly Jensen had decided to gift her with. Y/n watched as Gen pulled a decent-sized package out of the closet. It was wrapped in shining silver wrapping paper with a white bow wrapped around it. Her curiosity was piqued, seeing as the pair had not discussed a gift exchange, not that it had stopped her from purchasing a bespoke watch from a little shop in Detroit and having a message stitched into the leather strap. It was an easy choice seeing as her soon-to-be husband was obsessed with watches. The hard part was finding one he didn’t already own.

“This thing is huge,” she noted before quickly adding, “No one comment.”

All the girls stifled their laughs, watching her as she tore into the paper without care. She tossed the paper to the side, taking in the black and white sound waves embossed on the white background. There was black script in the lower-left corner that read ‘in a world we could call our own’.

“What’s the song?” Y/n didn’t recognize the lyric, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t heard the song before.

“On the back,” Stella called from her seat across the room. Y/n flipped the frame over in her hands, noticing the small square taped to the back. Setting the frame on the chair next to her, she broke the seal on the paper envelope. Inside was a simple CD, but on the front was a short message in Jensen’s familiar script that read ‘and it all came down to you, can’t wait to see you at the altar - Jensen.’

“But I don’t—” Her words were hushed as Gen handed over a portable CD player with headphones attached. Y/n turned the gray plastic over in her hand, knowing it had to be Jensen’s idea for her to listen to the disk in this way. Frankly, she was shocked that he didn’t find a way to put in on an eight-track and have Gen hand over a Walkman.

Y/n placed the disk in the player and put the headphones on before pressing play. The soft melody caught her attention immediately, her head bobbing gently along until Jensen’s voice filled her ears.

Listened to yesterday

Long before the way it has become

And it all came down to you

I don't really know the way

Played out stranger than it seemed

But what went down came true

Like an all day dream

It seemed saving her makeup was now just a pipe dream. She could feel the tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes. Gen was quick to bring her a tissue and Y/n tried her best to blot up the wetness without ruining everything.

Everybody was looking at her as the song came to an end and she pulled the headphones off her head. “He uh, he wrote me a song,” Y/n explained to her waiting friends. The room fell into collective awe.

“Okay, okay! Enough with my cheesy brother. You need to get in your dress like now and fix your makeup.” Mackenzie was laughing as she spoke, but Y/n caught the hint of water in her eyes as well. She was right, her brother was more than cheesy. It was something that she used to turn her nose up at, but somehow, he found a way to make it work that never seemed to fail.

“Right,” Y/n agreed, standing up from her seat and heading behind the partition to get into her dress. Her mother and Gen helped her into the heavy material and worked up the buttons along her back. She noticed her mother was tearing up again, much as she had on the day Y/n had said ‘yes to the dress.’

“Mom, come on now, Dad is gonna be in here any minute and I can’t have both of you in tears. I’ve already cried enough as it is.” Truth be told, she had been barely keeping it together since she received Jensen’s gift, and her family was not helping. She just had to keep it together until she was at the altar. Just half an hour longer.

****

Jensen finished fastening the watch around his wrist before turning it over and inspecting it once again. His bride had chosen well. It was unlike any other he had in his collection, but it suited him well, and of course, it matched his suit to a ‘T.’ He double-checked that the hands on the face were where they needed to be, the realization of the time hitting him in the gut.

“Hey, man. You good?” Jared’s voice broke him from his reverie. He tugged down the sleeves of his suit, fidgeting inside the snug outfit.

“Uh, I’m not sure how to answer that.” A nervous chuckle forced its way up his throat. Jared nodded at his friend.

“Been there, buddy.” Jared clapped his large hand on Jensen’s shoulder, squeezing his fingertips into the navy material. “But before I give you wise words of encouragement, I have to do my brotherly duty.”

“Duty?” Jensen murmured to himself as Jared cleared his throat.

“If you ever hurt my sister again, I will not be as forgiving. You’re here today because I trust you with her life and her heart. Don’t make me regret that.” Jared again squeezed Jensen’s shoulder for emphasis.

Jensen couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re funny, Jare.” But Jared’s expression had remained unchanged. “Oh, you’re serious… Dude, you’ve already punched me once. Trust me, I get the picture.”

“Good, now that that’s settled, all you need to do is focus on Y/n. The rest of it will fall into place. You guys are crazy about each other, forget about all the rest.” Jared dropped his grip on his friend and straightened his boutonniere.

“Thank you. I do love her, more than anything.” The groom smiled to himself as he watched the hands on the clock tick down.

“Oh, and remember to take a second for just the two of you later. Go and experience things from afar.”

Jensen nodded to himself, repeating Jared’s line back to himself. “Just the two of us.”

“Alright, Jay. Shake it off, it’s time to go see your bride.”

****

Gen was trying her best to keep Odette occupied as they waited to walk down the aisle. The group of bridesmaids, the bride and her father all were huddled in the corner of the wrap-around porch, waiting for the music to begin playing.

Y/n had one arm already wrapped around her father’s, her bouquet in the other. Her lower lip was worried in her teeth as the music started from the band behind the altar. A jolt beside her had her snapping her head up to see her father smiling down at her.

“How are you doing over there?” He asked as her bridesmaids began to disappear one by one.

“I’ll be okay. Deep breaths, right?”

“Deep breaths. Come on, someone is waiting for you.” Her dad tightened his grip on her as they began moving. The old wood of the manor creaked as they made their way across it and down the steps. Y/n refused to look up until her feet were on the fabric aisle put together by the wedding planners. When she did finally look up, her eyes cast over her friends and family standing to watch her, looking for the one pair of green eyes that could ground her.

Jensen had to bite his tongue when his bride came around the corner, the lace she adorned more elegant than he had expected. Her hair fell in waves down her back and the light veil covered her face just enough to hide her blush from him, but it was when she looked up and lock eyes with him that everything else fell away. It was just like Jared had said, all that mattered at that moment was her and Jensen. Like that night back in Vancouver, when she smiled at him from her place in her father’s arms, his heart skipped a beat. It was that smile that did him in still to this day.

Y/n watched as Jensen’s face broke out into the widest grin she’d ever seen. He clasped his hands together as he lost himself in her. His reaction had her feeling more light than she had ever felt. This was the moment people talk about twenty years down the road when they recount their wedding day. That ‘first look’ feeling was one she was going to remember for the rest of her life.

“Gerald,” Jensen held out his hand to Y/n’s father, shaking it with a smile before Gerald turned back to his daughter and handed her over to her groom, but not before stealing a kiss to her cheek.

Jensen slipped her arm under his and pulled her close to his side. “Wow, Y/n. Just… wow,” he whispered to her as their officiant began the ceremony.

“You’re one to talk, handsome. That blue suit is killer,” she husked, faking a whistle below her breath. She paused for a second to glare at Jared clearing his throat when the crowd was asked if anyone objected to their marriage. She couldn’t be too mad at him though, considering the chuckles he got from the crowd. Jared was just being Jared.

“So, in their decision to make my life a little easier, Jensen and Y/n have decided to write their own vows, which they will share with you now.” Their officiant waved her hand to them, the couple turning to now face each other. Y/n handed her bouquet off to her matron of honor, Gen, who exchanged it for her written vows, before turning back and taking Jensen’s free hand in her own.

“Y/n, I don’t know if it’s stupid or cliche to start off with this, but I love you. I do, I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love another human being. I had all but given up on my chance to find someone and have a family, and then you came crashing into my life. It all came down to you, my all-day dream come true.”

“Y/n/n, you are a strong, beautiful, and bullheaded woman. You frustrate me, you challenge me and you make me a better man. I promise to love you forever, to carry you through the bad times and laugh with you in the good times. I promise to keep you safe in my arms no matter what life throws our way and to cherish every moment we have together. I promise forever.”

Jensen shoved his vows into his pocket as he finished, his green eyes sparkling in the sunlight as he smiled down at her. For a moment, she let herself get lost in them until their officiant cleared her throat. The crowd chuckled as Y/n mumbled to herself to get a grip.

“I struggled a lot to put my feelings down into words. This damned piece of paper stared at me for weeks just mocking my brain for its lack of focus. But I soon realized it wasn’t because I couldn’t find the words, it was because there are no words. Jay, you are indescribable. You are everything I didn’t know that I needed before I met you. You always know how to make me laugh, what words to say when I don’t feel beautiful, and how to pick me up from the ground when I’ve fallen to my knees.”

“I vow to you to always be there when you need to speak and to share the silence when words aren’t needed. I vow to make sure you always smile from all my smart ass comments and to make sure you know how handsome you are. Most importantly, I vow to love you more and more with every passing day.”

Y/n was barely keeping it together as the two of them exchanged their rings and ‘I do’s’. She had fully expected the tears to be present ever since the pair had discussed writing their vows, but she never expected him to literally take her heart in his hands and squeeze it. Her heart had never been so full than at this moment.

“I think that about does it then, eh? By the power invested in me by the state of Texas and in front of God and all your loved ones, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jensen,” The crowd laughed as their officiant tilted her head towards Y/n, raising her brow. The couple joined in as Jensen lifted her veil over her head and pulled her to his chest, her hands snaking around his waist and her fingers clutching onto his jacket. Their lips met in the middle, a grin on both their faces. After everything, they were finally here, right where they both wanted to be: with each other.

“Family and friends, I am delighted to present to you for the first time, as husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Jensen Ackles!”

Jensen pulled away from his wife before pecking her nose one last time. He took her hand in his own as Gen handed her back her bouquet. The pair of them ran back down the aisle as the band played “You Make My Dreams Come True” and their families cheered. As they reached the porch around the manor once again, the event coordinator of the hall guided them back inside to the study where the boys had gotten ready for the ceremony.

The room was mostly cleared of the groomsmen’s items when they entered. For now, it was their place to have a second alone before they needed to begin taking photographs. Y/n set her bouquet down on one of the tables, her other hand still in Jensen’s. He tugged her into his side again, smiling down at her, his lips turned up on one side.

“Hi, wife.”

“Hi, husband,” Y/n parroted his sentiment back to him, a chuckle on her tongue. “Are you gonna be disgustingly cheesy now?”

“It’s my wedding day, I think I’m entitled,” he nodded.

“Hmm, well good. I love it.”

“I knew it!” Jensen bit his lip as he caressed his fingers along her jaw. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes examining the expanse of her face.

“Jay,” Jensen raised his brow at her, signaling her to continue. “I love you. Thank you for marrying me.”

“I love you too, pretty girl.” He promised, lowering his lips to her own in a quick caress.

****

It didn’t take long for the photographs to be finished, though it was boring work. Y/n assumed she probably shouldn’t feel that way, but her face was beginning to hurt from smiling so much. In the midst of it all, they’d signed their marriage license, so she guessed that made it all worth it.

The day was flying by quicker than either of them expected. When people told her to pause and take in everything, she’d thought she’d prepared herself, but before she knew what was happening, they were seated at the sweetheart table across from the stage as Jared took the microphone for their before dinner toasts.

Feedback reverberated across the makeshift stage and about the yard that was set up for their reception. Jared winced before clearing his throat.

“Good evening, everybody, I’m Jared for all of you who don’t know. That beautiful woman over there is my baby sister and the handsome troll sitting next to her just happens to be my best friend, my brother from another mother. The two of them have come a long way since their first meeting, a day not unlike today. When Gen and I got hitched, I think they exchanged a total of five words that day. They were ships passing in the night then. It wasn’t until Y/n/n came to work with us on set that a series of events was set in motion that none of us expected. I won’t lie and say I was too happy when I first found out about their relationship, sorry Jensen,” Jared paused as the room chuckled, though outside of their immediate families, no one knew what he was talking about. “I know it took me a while to come around to the idea, but now that I’ve been able to watch the two of you grow together, and laugh together, and love each other, I realize I was being selfish. Y/n, there is no other man that I would trust more with your life and with your heart. I know that he’s always gonna be there to treat you right and pick you up when you’re down. I know this because I will find him if he doesn’t.” Jared waved off more laughs before continuing. “Alright, but in all honesty, I couldn’t be happier for the two of you and I can’t wait to watch you grow old together. I love you guys. To the Ackles!”

Jared held up the champagne flute into the air before the room took a drink. Gen followed Jared as matron of honor and Josh brought up the rear as best man. All three of them were skilled at pulling out laughs and tears. Dinner was served just after and once the plates were finally cleared, the sun was nearly fully set below the horizon.

The manor worked on bringing out the dessert table, a wide array of miniature pies, snickerdoodles, banana bread, pumpkin and sugar donuts, scones, a coffee bar, and lastly the wedding favors for their guests, a build-your-own candy apple bar. It was the perfect fall scene for their mid-November wedding.

Y/n and Jensen made their way through the crowd, hugging family and friends and thanking them for joining them on their special day. A good crowd had formed on the dance floor, and it seemed that everyone was enjoying themselves.

Miriam, Y/n’s great aunt on her father’s side, had pulled her into a long-winded conversation at her table. Y/n was perched in a seat across from her aunt, trying to stay invested in the conversation. To be honest, the bride wasn’t even sure what she was talking about anymore.

“Hey, Miriam.” Jensen’s voice broke her out of the little trance she had slipped into. He had a wide smile on his face as he knelt beside her aunt. “I know you ladies are having girl talk, but I was wondering if I could steal my wife for a minute?”

“Oh!” Miriam exclaimed, a delighted smile on her face. Y/n watched, a grin on her face as she watched her husband charm her away from that table. “Of course! Silly me. She’s yours now, to do anything with you please.”

“Okay, Aunt Miriam,” Y/n stood and went to kiss her aunt on the cheek. Jensen took her hand and began to guide her away.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Her aunt’s exclamation had a blush creeping up on her neck, and Y/n had to cover her eyes with her hand. The whole time Jensen was just laughing beside her.

Y/n was distracted by the small cheers from the people who heard her aunt that she didn’t notice her husband sneak a champagne bottle and a glass from a waiter on their way up to the house. She simply let him guide her up on the porch and over to a dimly lit corner that gave them a view of the entirety of their reception.

“What are we doing?” She asked him as he handed her the flute.

“We are taking a minute to ourselves, just to step back and soak up all that’s happened today,” Jensen explained as he filled the glass.

“Ah,” Y/n let out a breath as she took a sip from the glass. She handed it over to her husband who copied her action. “Isn’t that what our first dance was for?”

“Eh, everyone had their eyes on us then. This way, it’s just the two of us. We get to be on the outside looking in.” Jensen moved behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. His wife leaned into his embrace, enjoying the heat from his body as the night began to cool.

The couple shared half a bottle of champagne as they watched their guests enjoy themselves. Most of the crowd was huddled on the dance floor, shaking away their worries for the time being. Those that were left were smuggling treats from the dessert table.

It was an intriguing glimpse at a wedding from someone else’s perspective, and the couple was more than happy to just watch their loved ones enjoy themselves. After all, that’s what all a wedding was, a party, and people were supposed to have fun at parties; get rowdy and maybe a little drunk. The kids were carefree, shaking their butts to the melody that helped facilitate all the fun.

Jensen glanced down at his watch to check the time before kissing the underside of her jaw. “We have to go get changed now,” he whispered to her. Y/n hummed in response, both of them not wanting to break the bubble that they had put themselves in on the porch, but alas, they had a plane to catch, and therefore needed to get out of their nice clothes.

The honeymoon suite that came with the rental of the manor was going to be used by Jared and Gen that night. Y/n and Jensen planned to leave her dress and his suit for them to take home. It worked best for them that they whisked away on their honeymoon right away. Overnight flights to Europe worked best when it came to kicking jet lag in the ass.

So that was what they did. Jensen changed into jeans and a white tee and Y/n into leggings and a white tee. Out of all the stupid couple things people did on their wedding day, Y/n had opted for matching ‘going away’ outfits.

The couple triple checked that they had everything they needed as Jared found his way to them. He helped Jensen pack the car with their belongings and before they knew it, they were being seen off by their loved ones, a whirlwind of sparklers lighting their path to the car. The couple hugged their parents goodbye before slipping into the black sedan.

As the car whizzed down the dirt path towards the airport, the crowd that was left meandered back to where the bartender was calling ‘last call.’ On the outskirts of the property, a figure stepped back into the tree line, the shadows hiding the stranger from view. The man dropped the butt of his cigarette into the pile building on the ground, crushing it into the leaves of the forest with the toe of his shoe before disappearing into the night.

Part 1: The Conception

Forevers: @polina-93 @22sarah08 @callmekda @hobby27 @tranquility-or-chaos @dawnie1988 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @akshi8278 @superfanficnatural @malfoysqueen14 @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @talesmaniac89 @winchest09 @katehuntington @flamencodiva @janicho88 @anathewierdo @ellewritesfix05 @mrsjenniferwinchester @jensengirl83 @lyarr24 @smol-and-grumpy

Continues: @traceyaudette @death-unbecomes-you @rebelemilu @colbyskoalas @ashleyrose0117 @zpandaqueen @stoneyggirl @parinarain @onethirstyunicorn @smoothdogsgirl @harryhook-lover @deanmonandnegansbitch @spnfamily-j2

My Forever tags as well as for this series are open. Just shoot me an ask to be added. If your url is crossed out, tumblr would not let me tag you

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x plus sized reader #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles smut

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rjhpandapaws · 4 years ago

Text

A Cup of Something Better

Ch 10: Down to the Wire

This was it, the week that had been two years in the making, his last finals week as a gen ed student. Assuming he passed all his tests, he would be able to take the nurses exam the following Friday. If he passed that he be enrolled into the nursing program for the fall semester. Five tests over three days, not the worst test load that he'd dealt with. The fact that they were between five and eleven at night was a pain in the ass.

He'd asked for the week off from the cafe so he could have more time to study. Some of the time he spent studying was also spent at the cafe, he preferred the idle chatter over the silence of his apartment.

Connor was spending the morning at the cafe again, going over calculus today. He had an Iced Americano that was helping to keep him concentrated. He'd had a few late nights that he was beginning to feel the effects of. His first set of tests was tonight, calculus and art history. Tomorrow was biology and mythology. The day after being his sociology final. Hank thankfully didn't have a final for his class so Connor had a chance to recuperate before his nurses exam.

He finished the problem he was working on and sat back rubbing at his face to try and wake up more. He needed to focus. He took another drink of his coffee and looked around the cafe, it was almost empty. As one would expect at ten in the morning on a Monday. He finished his coffee and figured he could use the break to order another drink. Hopefully he'd be more awake afterward.

He headed for the counter and ordered his usual before heading back to the table. Refueled and somewhat ready to go again, he sat back down and got back to work.

Connor woke up sometime later to North knocking on the table. He looked up to find that it wasn’t North, but Hank, though the red haired she-devil was behind the counter laughing.

“So, uh, North asked me to bring you this.” Hank said after a moment, setting the bigger of the two cups on the table, “she also said that knocking on the table would wake you up.”

“Thanks.” Connor took the cup and yawned, “you can sit down if you want. I’m just studying.”

Hank chuckled as he took a seat, “planning on learning through osmosis? I was lead to believe you had to be awake in order to study properly.”

Connor rolled his eyes as he took a drink from what turned out to be a large cup filled with just espresso shots, “I’ll do whatever works at this point.” He covered a yawn and leaned forward, “how do you like having the week off? Getting any writing done?”

Hank laughed as Connor got back to work on his calculus, “I’ve gotten a couple of chapters into my manuscript and started a couple of short stories.”

Connor took another drink from his cup, “you’re planning to release another collection then?” He yawned, “how is Sumo doing?”

When Connor looked up Hank was looking at him with a concerned expression. HIs brow was furrowed and his sky blue eyes were clouded over with worry. Connor knew that he looked rough but he was pretty sure he wasn’t bad enough to warrant that level of concern.

“Sumo is doing fine.” Hank leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, “can you answer something for me Connor?”

“Hmm?” Connor sat up from where he had been slouching into his textbook again, “what’s up?”

“How many days has it been since you’ve gotten a full night’s rest?” Hank watched as he took another drink of his ‘coffee’.

“Today is Monday so...” He counted back on his fingers, muttering the days of the week under his breath, “Saturday, I think. Why?”

Hank sighed, and the sound was pure disappointment, something that if it hadn’t been directed at Connor would have impressed him, “Since you’re the one of us going into nursing, I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you what’s wrong with that Connor. Do me a favor and get some rest. You can’t keep going like this.”

“I sleep two hours before classes. I’ve increased my calorie intake and added more caffeine into the mix as well.” He stumbled over his words as he yawned again, “five hour energy and espresso have been life savers for me.”

“Connor.” Hank groaned, “I was in college too, so I can’t argue with you, but try and get at least get four hours today alright?” He put a hand up when Connor opened his mouth to argue, “I know your nurses exam is important to you Con, but what happens if you burn out before then? You’ll have to wait a whole semester to take it again.”

In theory Connor knew him to be correct, but he had so many tests and he wanted to make sure that he was ready, “I just don’t want to fail Hank, if I can’t pass these then I won’t even be taking the nurses exam.”

Connor could feel tears pooling behind his eyes from the lack of sleep as well as the stress. The nickname made Connor give a watery smile as he rubbed at his face trying to collect himself.

“Hey now, don’t cry.” Hank reached out and squeezed his wrist reassuringly, “I’ve gotten to see you at work Con, you’ve got these tests in the bag. Go home, get some rest.”

Connor let out a wet laugh and wiped his eyes with his free hand. After another reassuring squeeze Hank let go of his wrist and Connor began packing up his things and putting them back in his bag not quite managing to bite back another yawn. He was starting to think no amount of coffee was gonna help this. With everything packed he sat back and rubbed at his face again hoping to wake up a little more.

“Alright.” Connor said before he drank more of his coffee, “time to go home and nap I guess. Sorry you had to wake me.”

Hank chuckled, “Its no problem. Do you need a ride? The weather looks like its going to take a turn for the worse.”

Connor looked out the windows and despite it being early afternoon apparently, the sky was almost black and the wind was howling through the streets, “thanks, but I’ll just get a cab.”

Hank nodded and stood. They walked out together and parted ways at the parking lot with a wave. Connor hailed a cab and checked his phone which had been vibrating consistently since Hank had stood up. There were several new messages in the coffee shop group chat, probably because he had been crying.

The Coffee Crew:

Northern_Lights: Aww, you two are so cute together

Northern_Lights: Why are you crying?

Northern_Lights: Is it his fault? I’ll kick his ass if I have to

Northern_Lights: Holding hands?

Northern_Lights: You’re good then?

Northern_Lights: Connor?

RunawayArkait: North, everything is fine.

SimonSays: Are you sure? We saw you cry

RunawayArkait: I haven’t been sleeping and the stress from finals got to me

RunawayArkait: Hank kind of gave me a pep talk is all

SimonSays: Aww his name is Hank, that’s fitting

Northern_Lights: That had better been all. Or I will fight him.

RunawayArkait: It’s fine North. I’m gonna get some sleep then get to class

Northern_Lights: Sleep well

SimonSays: You got this!

Connor smiled at his phone as he paid and got out of the cab. He walked up to his apartment and set an alarm for a half hour before he needed to leave. He set his backpack by the door and went to change into pyjamas. Connor was still fighting off the embarrassment from having cried in front of Hank, if he needed to sleep anything off it was that. Hank probably found him to be weak and pathetic for having cried ever a few tests. Whatever chance, if he’d even had one, was gone.

He sighed and rubbed at his face again and climbed into bed, double checking that his alarm was on and also at full volume. He plugged his phone in and rolled over falling asleep almost instantly. When his alarm went off he hadn’t moved. The song blared to life yanking Connor violently back into consciousness. He groaned, sat up, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes He turned off the alarm and checked his phone. He had quite a few messages.

The Family Feud:

Sixty-Second-Set: You’ve got this Connor!

UnluckyNine: You’ll be a nurse in no time

RunawayArkait: Thank you

The Coffee Crew:

Northern_Lights: Good luck college boy!

SimonSays: Don’t worry alright? You’re a genius

What.Josh.Does: See you in calculus. Who ever scores the lowest buys drinks on Friday

RunawayArkait: Thanks guys. You’re on Josh.

Made-By_Markus messaged you!

Made-By_Markus: Good luck Connor!

RunawayArkait: Thank you Markus.

Connor dressed in his day clothes again and made a pot of coffee. Travel mug filled, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door. He pulled up his hood as he got to the parking lot since the storm picked up since his nap. He walked toward the road and caught a cab to head to the university. On the ride over he pulled out the notes he had taken for his calculus class and got in some last minute studying.

He arrived early and made his way to the Math and Science building. Josh was waiting at one of the hallway tables and waved Connor over. There were two paper Hand Brewed Hope cups on the table, when Connor took his seat Josh slid one over to him.

“Figured you could use the pick me up.” Connor took a drink of what turned out to be Chai Tea with cinnamon and nutmeg as Josh spoke, “I know finals week is rough on you.”

Connor gave a dry chuckle, “It’s just stressful, and even more than usual this time because of the nurses exam.” He sighed softly, “You had tow tests earlier today. How do you think you did?”

He was distracting himself, but thankfully Josh let him, “Good. I was more confident for my philosophy exam than I was for chemistry, but it is what it is. Once I finish this up I’ll get to move on to student teaching. Which I’m looking forward to.”

Connor smiled, Josh was excited to becoming a teacher. He was going to be missed at the cafe but he would have more fun as a teacher, “You’ll be great at it. Those kids are going to adore you.”

Josh beamed at him and Connor took another drink from his tea, “I’m gonna miss the cafe though.”

“We’re gonna miss you too.” Connor said kindly, “I’m sorry that I can’t join you guys this weekend but I’m going to be getting ready for my nurses exam.”

“It’s alright Connor. We know how much this means to you, so no one is holding it against you.” Josh responded with a gentle smile.

When it came time to, they grabbed their things and headed for class. Josh gave Connor’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he headed for his seat at the back of the class. Connor headed for his as well, letting out a shaky sigh. He had an ‘A’ in this class, he could handle one last test. Probably.

The two hour test block seemed to crawl by. He fell into routine, solving the problems as he went and then checking them over when he had finished. Then, just to be sure, he checked them again. With a half hour left in the test block he grabbed his things, turned in his completed exam, and made his way to building one to study for his art history final. Having found a bench to sit at and go over his notes, he sent a few messages.

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Calculus is done, just Art History left

RunawayArkait: Just finished calculus

UnluckyNine: Good job! You’ve got this one in the bag too

Sixty-Second-Set: Look at you go!

SimonSays: Bet you nailed it

Northern_Lights: Nicely done, you beat Josh

RunawayArkait: Calculus is done

Made-By_Markus: Congratulations Connor!

Connor was smiling as he put his phone away as he put his phone away and began to study, wanting to be as prepared as possible for the final. He packed up when the door to the lecture hall opened. When the class had emptied he took his seat and got ready for his exam.

This two hour block went by a little. Though that was probably because he had the confidence of having finished one already. When he finished this one he could go home and sleep for a couple hours before he got back to studying. This final took him a little longer but he finished it with ten minutes to spare. If he napped in the cab he could spend even more time studying. He probably wouldn’t though, he hated sleeping in cars. He sent messages as he headed out.

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Done for the night

UnluckyNine: Nice. Now you can get some rest

The Coffee Crew:

Sixty-Second-Set: You’ll be a nurse in no time

RunawayArkait: First day of finals is over

What.Josh.Does: Congrats! Meet me at building 27 and I’ll give you a ride home

SimonSays: Three more to go, you’ve got this

Northern_Lights: You’re doing great

@Made-By_Markus

RunawayArkait: Thanks. I’ll be there soon Josh

RunawayArkait: One night down, two to go

Made-By_Markus: Don’t forget to get some rest.

Tuesday morning found him back at the cafe, is biology textbook as well as the semester’s notes spread over the table. He’d been at this since about midnight; rotating between biology, mythology, sociology, and subjects that would be covered on the nurses exam. His travel mug still had some coffee in it so he hadn’t bought a drink yet and he also had a couple of five hour energy shots in his bag if needed them. He figured he would, because despite the extra sleep he had gotten yesterday, Connor could still feel exhaustion hanging off of him.

After a couple hours he switched from biology to mythology when his concentration started to wane. When that didn’t work he grabbed a five hour energy bottle and got in line to order. He tossed the bottle between his hands without looking at it, occasionally tossing it straight up only to catch it and start the cycle over again. He had put it back in his university sweatshirt pocket by the time it was his turn to order. He was ordering a drink that North had made up that wasn’t on the menu, so he said it out loud.

“I’ll take a large Due North, Simon.” Connor said around a yawn and Simon looked at him with concern.

“You do know that drink is basically just straight espresso with a couple pumps of chocolate syrup right?” Simon was typing the drink in anyway, “with how much coffee you drink in a day, I’m worried you might vibrate out of existence.”

“I’ll be fine Simon,” Connor said as he paid for his drink, “I just need a little extra help staying awake today is all.”

“If you’re sure Connor,” Simon said as he handed the cup off to Josh who looked at it with worry.

While he stood in the crowd to wait out his drink he got out his lucky quarter and began to toss it between his hands. He would stop and roll it over is knuckles, toss it straight up, catch it and then start over. On the third pass his drink was called, he pocketed the coin as he walked up to the counter. He thanked Josh and took his drink. When he got back to the table he took the lid off of the cup and added the energy shot, stirring it with the straw so it would mix in. He put the lid on and took a drink when he finished. If the sheer amount of caffeine didn’t keep him awake, the taste probably would.

Connor was surprised that he actually finished the monstrosity that North had created. He’d moved on from mythology to sociology, and despite all of the caffeine pumping through his body, he could still feel himself fading. He knew he couldn’t go up for another coffee so soon after pumping so much espresso into himself, Simon wouldn’t let him. So he would just have to tough it out. He leaned more into his notes, resting his arms on the table.

He woke up to talking, “North, why are you drawing on him?”

“Because, he fell asleep and he knows the rules.” Came North’s reply, and now that Connor was slightly more coherent, he could feel something moving against his face. He opened his eyes with a tired groan and whatever had been on his face was yanked away. North laughed, “Shit.”

“Morning Sunshine.” Hank said with an amused smile as Connor sat up, “how is your studying going? I can see you’re trying that learning by osmosis thing again.”

He gave Hank a tired smile as North laughed, “it seemed to work well enough yesterday.”

“Alright Point Dexter, go wash the dicks off your face. I’ll have another Due North for you when you get back out.” North said as she pulled Connor to his feet.

As Connor made his way to the bathroom to clean his face North retreated back behind the counter. He checked the mirror to find that, yes, North had actually drawn cartoon dicks of various sizes along the left side of his face and a detailed shooting star down the side of his neck, He wet a paper towel and started rubbing at his face, glad that they didn’t use permanent marker to write on the cups.

With all the marker washed off his face and neck Connor went back to the table to find Hank had settled in and gotten to work on his laptop. As promised there was another large Due North beside his sociology notes. He sat down and gave Hank a tired half smile.

“So why was North drawing on your face?” Hank asked as he looked up from his typing, “she said something about rules.”

“Yeah.” Connor laughed rubbing at the back of his neck, “the first time you fall asleep in public is a freebie, after that whoever catches you gets to draw on your face. Either she caught me, or Simon chickened out again.”

“So you fall asleep while out and about pretty often then?” Was Hank’s follow up as he watched Connor get out his biology textbook.

“Sometimes,” he said with a casual shrug, “usually during midterms or finals week when I spend most of my time studying.”

“Your nap yesterday was your freebie then?” Hank’s attention was returning to his work, as was Connor’s.

“Probably, or your timing saved me.” With that the conversation fell away to be replaced with the clicking of a keyboard and the occasional turning pf a page.

It was a few hours later when Hank stood, “I’m gonna go get another drink. Do you want anything?”

Connor looked up from his notes, “A Chai Tea please. Thank you Hank.”

“No problem kid.” He said as he headed for the counter.

Connor put his biology book away and got out what he needed for mythology. He had about two hours until he needed to leave for the university. Time to concentrate on his test subjects. He sat back and stretched, his back popped like a line of fire crackers since this was the first time he had moved in a few hours.

By the time Hank got back with the drinks, Connor was once again absorbed in his work and jumped when a paper cup came into his line of sight. Hank laughed as he sat down.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got tunnel vision Con?” He remarked with a laugh, “I called your name three times before I gave up.”

There was that nickname again and the bubbling warmth that came with it. Connor was fighting not to grin like an idiot when he spoke, “A few times. Sorry though, I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

Hank chuckled as he got back to work, “I get the same way when I work sometimes too. Don’t worry.”

“After tonight I’ll at least be getting my sleep schedule back,” Connor said as a way of making conversation, “I just have sociology tomorrow and then I can pace myself for the nurses exam.”

“North won’t be able to draw on your face anymore,” Hank laughed, “but honestly, I’m glad you’ll be catching up on your rest.”

“I’m honestly just looking forward to getting back to my normal work schedule.” Hank gaped at him.

“Connor, do you ever take time off?” He asked, worry lining his voice.

“Yeah. When I’m sick, for finals week, and whenever Silas has a performance that’s within travelling distance. Why?” Connor asked with a tilt of his head.

Hank shook his head, “Let me rephrase that. Do you ever take time off for yourself Connor?”

“Well no. But I don’t need to, I’m happy.”

Hank sighed and leaned forward resting his forearms on the table on either side of his laptop, “Connor are you working this weekend?”

“No. I have-”

“Great. You’re gonna meet me here at noon on Saturday. I’m going to bring you to my place and you’re gonna meet Sumo. One day, that’s all I’m asking.” Hank’s tone made it clear that he wasn’t going to be taking no as an answer.

“Alright.” Connor wouldn’t have turned down the offer anyway, not when it came to spending time to Hank.

With that taken care of, they both got back to work. Connor nearly jumped out of his skin when the alarm on his phone went off. From the looks of it, the sound had startled Hank as well. Connor turned it off quickly and began packing his things.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said with an awkward laugh, “I’m gonna grab a drink for the road, Want me to get you anything?”

When he looked up, Hank was also getting his things together, “how about you get the drinks Saturday. I’ll join you in line though.”

Connor waited for Hank to finish getting his things together and then they joined the line. Now that he was standing, Connor stretched slightly to alleviate some of the stiffness in his back and let out a satisfied sigh when he finished.

“Do you have plans for the night Hank?” He asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Go home, order take out and pend time with my dog.” He replied, “What about you?”

“Take my finals. Then when I get home check to see if I passed the ones I took yesterday and either order victory or pity pizza.” He responded which got a laugh out of Hank.

“How about this. Since I’m so certain it will be victory pizza, I’ll pay for it.”

“But you don’t have my number,” Connor said turning to face Hank.

“You’ll have to give it to me then, won’t you.” He said with a wink and Connor died. Or maybe he was already dead. Adding that energy shot to the Due North probably killed him and this was just a hallucination.

Hank tapped Connor’s shoulder to get his attention and he took the offered phone. He put his number in and set his contact as Connor :). He handed the phone back and by the time he got to the counter he felt his phone vibrate with a message, he could guess who it was from. Josh gave him a suspicious smile.

“Don’t even start.” Connor muttered, cutting him off, “a medium black coffee please.”

Josh put one hand up in mock surrender and used the other to put in the drink order. Connor paid and headed for the end counter, fighting a smile the whole way.

He checked his phone for new messages, and sure enough there were two from a new number.

3132480705: Hello

3132480705: This is Hank :)

Connor: Hello Hank :)

He added the other to his contact list under Hank <3, because he had a crush and couldn’t help himself. He put his phone back in his sweatshirt pocket as Hank joined the group at the end counter.

“So what tests are you taking tonight,” Hank asked, crossing his arms over his chest in a relaxed manner.

“Biology and then mythology. Tomorrow is sociology.” Connor pulled his phone out to double check his calendar, then put it away again, “then assuming I’ve passed those I’m scheduled to take my nurses exam next Friday.”

“It’s good that you gave yourself a week to study,” he said as Connor went up for his drink, when he came back Connor was wearing a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, didn’t plan it like this. The first testing block was full when I applied.” He waved at Hank as he stepped away, “anyway I’ve got to go. I can, um, text you updates if you want.”

“Sure. Good luck Con.” Hank said as Connor left the cafe.

As soon as he got a cab he texted the group chat which had been suspiciously quiet the whole time he had been with Hank.

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: Hank gave me his number!

RunawayArkait: Also! I am meeting Sumo this weekend.

RunawayArkait: So, progress. I think?

What.Josh.Does: You have his number and you’re meeting his dog. Yet you’re still questioning if you made progress

Northern_Lights: Go get your man!

SimonSays: Be safe please

RunawayArkait: I mean, Saturday is more of a hostage situation

RunawayArkait: I don’t take enough time for myself apparently

Northern_Lights: Oh. So you’ll listen to him on that!

Northern_Lights: What does that make us?

RunawayArkait: Friends who I love dearly

What.Josh.Does: Well either way, congrats

SimonSays: Don’t forget to tell your brothers

RunawayArkait: Thanks

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Guess what?

Sixty-Second-Set: Your finals were cancelled!

UnluckyNine: You passed your exams?

RunawayArkait: Close, but no

RunawayArkait: Hank gave me his number

UnluckyNine: Nice

Sixty-Second-Set: It’s about fucking time

Sixty-Second-Set: If I had to hear you shine about him one more time I was going to pose as you and get it myself

RunawayArkait: Silas!

UnluckyNine: Just be glad it didn’t come to that

Connor rolled his eyes as the cab pulled up to the university. It shouldn’t surprise him that Silas would threaten him with something that extreme, in Silas’s opinion the more dramatic the even the better. Connor was glad it hadn’t needed to come to that, he knew Silas had meant it. He paid for the cab and made his way to building 27 for the last time this week.

He made his way to the second floor and took a seat at one of the hall tables. He took out his biology notes to go over them again before it was time for the test. He had half an hour, he wouldn’t get through everything but it was better than nothing. Science was a bit like math in that following a predetermined procedure would lead to one of a few results.

The half hour passed quickly since he was preoccupied, when students began leaving the lecture hall he began packing up his things. Just like his two previous finals, he didn’t feel like he was ready. He knew his grades by themselves were good enough to get him into the program, but the tests also came with a passing margin and he didn’t want to rely on his grades alone.

HIs father had raised him and his brothers under the belief that it wouldn’t matter how hard they worked toward their goals since there would always be someone out there that could do it better. He had meant for it to encourage them to go to school and help with the business, but Connor had taken it to mean that he needed to be the one working the hardest to get where he wanted in life. Silas had done similarly albeit in a very different way, and Richard had worked to make himself as close to invisible as possible.

He was waiting outside the classroom for the last of the students to leave when his phone vibrated and pulled him from his thoughts. He pulled it out of his hoodie to put it on silent and saw a message from Hank. He had time, so he opened it.

Hank <3: You’ve got this kid

Connor: Thanks :)

Connor smiled and put his phone away. The room was finally empty and the professor allowed them to come in. He took his usual seat and took a moment to mentally prepare. He got drawn into the test into the test and what he needed of the two hour block flew by. He finished with fifteen minutes left after having gone over his answer just to be sure. He texted Hank first as he left the classroom.

Connor: One more then I’m done for the night

Hank <3: You’ll do great, don’t worry

Connor: :)

He waited until he was in building 1 to message everyone else. He sat in the second floor study area and took a break from his notes.

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Just mythology left

UnluckyNine: That should be easy

Sixty-Second-Set: Hopefully there aren’t any essay questions.

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: Last test for the night is mythology

SimonSays: You’ll be able to get some decent sleep tonight

What.Josh.Does: Good Luck

Northern_Lights: God I hated that class

He spent the hour before his mythology final studying for it. Working his way through all of the lecture and reading notes he had taken during the semester. This particular professor didn’t believe in midterms so the final covered everything they had gone over during the semester. It annoyed Connor slightly, he would rather take two smaller tests than one massive one. They had been told that there would be at least ten questions from each era of mythology they had covered. it was a daunting undertaking and Connor didn’t think he was ready for it. Not that it mattered much, considering as he didn’t have a choice, but the sheer size of the test made his looming anxiety seem heavier. If he didn’t finish in time he would fail automatically and could kiss his shot at the nurses exam goodbye.

Connor did his best to shake those thoughts from his head as he go this things together. Maybe if he got there as the first exam was finishing he could get an early start. He grabbed his bag and made his way to the classroom waiting across the hall for the other exam to let out. He got his quarter out again to calm his nerves. He went through the same motions as the cafe. Rolling the coin over his knuckles before tossing it in the air and catching it. He did all of this without looking. On the fifth toss the door opened and Connor caught his coin putting it away. He waited for a gap in the students so he could enter the classroom. The professor wouldn’t let him start early, but he did gain extra time to study as he waited on his classmates. He hoped it would help him get through the test faster to have some of the information fresh in his mind.

When the exam was handed out Connor silently cursed Silas and came to understand why North had hated the class so much. More than half of the test was made up of short answer or essay questions. This was going to take forever. With a sigh that was just as much annoyed as it was anxious Connor started on the exam. He finished with a little over five minutes left in the test period. He was one of the last students in the room. He turned in the exam and left quickly, letting out a relieved sigh once he was back in the hall.

Connor: Done for the night and about to head home

Hank <3: How are you feeling?

Connor: Stressed and relieved

Connor: Happy that this is almost over

Hank <3: Take a break tonight. Alright?

Hank <3: Try and unwind

Connor: That sounds like a good plan

Connor: When I get home I’ll let you know if you owe me a pizza :p

Hank <3: Cheeky bastard

Connor: That shouldn’t be news to you

Hank <3: Its not ;)

Connor smiled at the conversation and opened discord as he got in the cab. He tapped his apartment address into the terminal before he messaged his brothers.

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Silas you jinxed me

RunawayArkait: More than half the test was short answer or essay questions

Sixty-Second-Set: Oops. But you finished didn’t you?

UnluckyNine: Obviously. Congrats by the way

Sixty-Second-Set: Then everything is fine

RunawayArkait: Anyway, I’m gonna be offline for the night

Sixty-Second-Set: Enjoy talking with Hank

UnluckyNine: Don’t do anything Silas wouldn’t do

RunawayArkait: That leaves me a lot of options

RunawayArkait: Also I hate you both

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: Done for the night

RunawayArkait: We can compare test scores tomorrow Josh. I’m going to be offline tonight

SimonSays: Tell Hank hello

RunawayArkait: Why is everyone assuming that!

Northern_Lights: Are we wrong

RunawayArkait: Well no

What.Josh.Does: Alright. Tomorrow then. Have a good night Connor

RunawayArkait: Thanks

He opened Canvas in his phone’s web browser to check if the exams from yesterday had been graded. They had been and he had passed them both. He had gotten 100% on his calculus exam and a 95% on his art history exam. Both above the cut off. It was definitely going to be victory pizza. Then he was going to unwind with a glass of wine and a bubble bath. He’d use what was left of his night to catch up on his sleep.

The cab pulled up to his apartment complex, he paid and got out to head up to his unit. Once he was inside and had put his backpack away and sent Hank a screen shot of his test results.

Connor: So, victory pizza?

Hank <3: Victory pizza. You got any place you usually order from

Connor: Nope. You can pick

Connor: Medium with cheese and mushrooms please

Hank <3: I really should have known that your pizza order was going to be fucking weird

Hank <3: I need your complex name and your apartment number

Connor: Ridgewood Apartments building B5 apartment 205-B

Hank <3: Alright. It’ll be there in an hour

Connor: You’re the best

Hank <3: You only say that because I bought you pizza

Connor: And coffee ;)

Hank <3: You’re the worst

Connor: I try my best

He put his phone on full volume and walked into the kitchen and got out a stemless wine glass as well as the bottle of white wine Silas had bough him the last time he came over. He poured himself half a glass and put the bottle away. With the glass in hand he made his way back to the living room sat back on the couch and kicked his socked feet up onto the coffee table. He turned on the tv and turned it to the true crime channel, quickly getting absorbed in what was on. An hour or so later when there was a knock at his door Connor just about jumped out of his skin. He collected himself and answered the door. He took the pizza and tanked the delivery person before heading back to the living room. He opened the box and set it on the coffee table beside his wine glass. He took a picture and sent it to Hank.

Connor: The right way to celebrate finals (almost) being over

He received a picture in return. It was of Hank’s coffee table, there was a half full whiskey glass and Chinese take out. Sumo was sprawled out in the background.

Hank <3: You’ve got the right idea Con

Connor: Glad we can agree

He moved to the floor in the space between the couch and the coffee table so he could use it as a dining table. He had a couple slices of pizza and finished his first glass of wine before he put the left overs away. He poured another glass of wine and made his way to the bathroom. He started the bath added bubbles and let the water run as he went to his room to get pyjamas. He texted Hank again before he got into the bath.

Connor: Now for the best part of the night. Relaxing with a glass of wine.

Hank <3: I’m more of a whiskey guy myself, but that sounds like a good plan.

Connor let out a content sigh as he sank into the water and relaxed into the warmth. He played music from his phone and stayed in the water until it went cold. He rinsed off and got ready for bed and texted Hank as he plugged his phone in for the night.

Connor: Good night Hank

Hank <3: Sleep well Connor

Hank <3: We wouldn’t want North drawing on you again :)

Connor: No we would not

The next day he didn’t wake up until around noon, his body deciding to try and make up for all of his lost sleep in one go. He got up and got ready, taking what he would no longer need out of his backpack and heading for the cafe. Deciding to walk since it was nice out. While he was waiting to cross at a crosswalk he sent the screenshot of his test results to Josh.

What.Josh.Does: Nice! I got a 97%

What.Josh.Does: I’ll cover your first drink as promised

RunawayArkait: You’re the best

What.Josh.Does: You’re only saying that because I’m buying you a coffee

RunawayArkait: See you soon

He tucked his phone away and crossed the street and continued on his way to the cafe, He put his bag at his usual table and went to stand in line. Connor hadn’t been in line long when Hank’s voice sounded from behind him.

“Late start today Con?” Hank asked, the nickname he had given Connor rolled off his tongue like they had known each other for years. The dopey grin it caused to curl over Connor’s lips made him glad that Hank was behind him, “you’re usually passed out at your table by now.”

“That’s only happened like twice this week,” Connor argued, it was weak but it was all he had.

“Connor, its Wednesday,” Hank continued, “two out of three days this week you’ve been asleep at the table. A two-thirds average isn’t that great when you’re on the third day.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that today considering as I didn’t wake up until like noon.”

“So you finally made up for your lost sleep.”

“Apparently.” Connor said as he stepped up to the counter, “a large Iced Americano please.”

Josh put the order in and Connor walked to the end counter to wait. He was tempted to pull out his coin but the cafe was pretty busy today and the sound tended to annoy people. So he settled for signing the alphabet in reverse. This would be his last test for the semester, he’d had plenty of time to prepare and yet his anxiety was still eating at him. He finished one cycle of the alphabet and started over.

“So what are you doing with your hand?” Hank asked, scaring the life out of Connor who had retreated into his own thoughts.

“Signing the alphabet backwards.” Connor replied once he had collected himself.

“Why?”

“I need something to keep my hands busy when I’m anxious and I don’t want to annoy anyone with my quarter.”

“Test anxiety? Is that why you’ve been studying so hard?’

“Yeah. I want to do everything in my power to make sure I pass my exams.” His drink was called and he went up to the counter to grab it. He pointed to the table where his bag was and when Hank nodded Connor made his way over.

Connor took his seat and got out his sociology textbook and notes. By the time he had gotten his stuff out Hank was taking his usual seat across the table. He got out his laptop and they both got to work. They passed the time in busy pleasant silence until Hank asked him a question.

“So what do you do with your quarter that annoys people?” Hank asked as he looked up from his work.

“This.” He said as he pulled out the coin rolling it over his knuckles then flicking it up in the air, catching it in his other hand and then showed it off with a ‘tada’ motion.

“That’s a pretty neat trick.” Hank said with a half smile, “but i can see why you wouldn’t want to d it in a crowded place.”

“It annoys some people so I try to avoid doing it if I can.” He said, returning his attention to his notes.

The conversation fell away after that. Hank was the first to leave today, Sumo had a doctors appointment. They said their goodbyes and Connor got back to work. A few hours later when he was on his way to the university he sent Hank a text.

Connor: Last one. Wish me luck

Hank <3: You’ve got this Con, luck or no luck

Hank <3: But good luck

Connor: Thanks Hank. You’re the best

Hank <3: I try to be

Connor was smiling at his phone like a love struck idiot and it took all of his strength not to send a heart back. He didn’t want to make Hank uncomfortable. They were only friends and most friends didn’t do that. He set his phone in his lap and used his hands to cover his blush and matching dopey grin. He knew he had it bad. Going back over the texts, some of them sounded like flirting. Connor took a deep breath trying to collect himself, he needed to focus on his final for the time being.

He was somewhat back to himself when he got to the university. Once this test was done he had four days of what amounted to free time. Thursday, Friday, and Sunday were days he was going to use to study for his nurses exam and Saturday he was going to meet Sumo. Monday it was back to work as usual and then that Friday he was taking his nurses exam. Then it was back to business as usual until the fall semester started, He got out and made his way to building 1 for the last time this semester.

He made his way to the classroom as the previous class left. There wouldn’t be any last minute studying this time. He took his phone out of his pocket to double check that it was on silent then put it away. When the last of the students filed out Connor entered the class and took his usual seat.

Once it started, the testing block seemed to fly by. He finished with half an hour left. Surprisingly this test was the one he felt the most confidence for. When he got in a cab, he messaged Hank first.

Connor: I’m done!

Connor: My finals are finished!

Hank <3: Congratulations! For the next two weeks you’re free

Connor: I’m going home and taking a fucking nap

Hank <3: It’s well earned

Hank <3: Sleep well Con

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: I’m done

UnluckyNine: Congratulations

Sixty-Second-Set: Time to celebrate

RunawayArkait: Time to take a nap

UnluckyNine: That works too

Sixty-Second-Set: Boring

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: I’m free

SimonSays: Nice

What.Josh.Does: Good for you

Northern_Lights: Party time!

RunawayArkait: Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll be taking a nap

Northern_Lights: That’s boring

Connor rolled his eyes as he closed discord going back to his conversation with Hank.

Connor: Apparently I’m boring for wanting to sleep off my finals

Hank <3: They’re your tests. You get to pick how you celebrate

Connor: Exactly. So I’m going to make up for lost sleep

Hank <3: Sounds like a good plan to me

Connor: Thanks

The cab arrived at his apartment and he paid and got out. Exhaustion weighed down on him as he made his way up to his unit. He’d reheat a couple slices of pizza for dinner and then head to bed. He fumbled with his keys for a moment before getting his door unlocked

Once he was inside he dropped his bag by the door and kicked his shoes off. In the morning the mess would probably bother him, but he was tired now so that was future Connor’s problem. He opened the fridge and grabbed two slices of pizza and put them on a paper towel then in the microwave. Tonight was a lazy night. He changed into pyjamas and came back into the kitchen when the microwave went off. For the sake of convenience he ate over the kitchen sink. He rushed through his nightly routine, Before he climbed into bed he pugged in his phone and messaged Hank one last time.

Connor: Good night Hank

Hank <3: Sleep well Connor

Thursday found him awake around eleven. Unlike yesterday there was no sleep hangover, for the first time in a long time he felt well rested. He spent the first part of the day cleaning his apartment and doing laundry. Giving his brain a break from the bookwork, which felt pretty nice.

Around three o’clock he made his way to the cafe. He stood in line and looked around. He found Hank at their usual table, he was absorbed in his work and had earbuds in. Since he had the time, he messaged him to see if he wanted anything.

Connor: I’m in line. Would you like anything

He scanned the menu deciding on a chai tea rather than coffee since he felt well rested for once. He looked down when his phone vibrated.

Hank <3: Fist of all, you scared the ever loving fuck outta

Hank <3: My usual with two shots please

Connor: Got it :)

Connor: And sorry. I just thought I’d ask since I was up here

When it was his turn he noticed one of the new trainees, Echo, he believed, working the register while North worked the bar. He smiled at the blue haired woman, “Could I get a medium Chai Tea with cinnamon and nutmeg as well as a Vanilla Latte with two shots of espresso.”

She seemed to struggle with the first drink and North came to her aid, staying to help with the second and writing on the cups to make things easier. Connor always spoke his orders to the new hires since knowing how to sign wasn’t a requirement and he didn’t want to assume they knew it. Shifts were designed so that at least one person who knew Sign Language was there. Once the drinks were up, he headed for the table.

He sat across from Hank in his usual seat and slid the cup across the table while Hank took out his earbuds, “so manuscript today or short stories?”

“Manuscript surprisingly enough.” Hank said before drinking from his latte and letting out a content hum, “what about you? What book are you rubbing your nose against today?”

“Today I’m going over the notes and study guide Markus gave me to make flashcards to go over on my breaks since I go back to work on Monday,” Connor said as he got out what he would need. Typed out notes, a hand written study guide, a stack of one thousand notecards, and a pencil pouch with that said ‘always look on the bright side’ on the front.

Hank gave an amused chuckle and shook his head, “I still think you should go over the definition of the word break Con.”

Connor drank from his chai tea to cover the involuntary grin that the nickname caused, “I’m taking an ‘actual’ day off on Saturday. Remember?”

Hank rolled his eyes but seemed to accept Connor’s flimsy argument. They lapsed into a companionable silence. Connor was working on his flashcards and Hank was working on his manuscript. Occasionally Connor would catch himself staring at Hank, but would look away before he got caught and forced himself get back to work. Until his luck ran out and Hank met his eyes cracking a smile that lead Connor to believe he hadn’t been nearly as stealthy as he had thought.

“See something you like Connor?” Hank joked, and it had to be a joke. Despite the way some of their messages read there was no way Hank would ever flirt with him. Connor turned into a tomato anyway.

“I was, um, I was just staring off into space...” he trailed off never having been all that great of a liar. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow them whole.

Hank didn’t look like he believed Connor but he didn’t comment on it. They went back to their easy silence until Hank had to leave.

“Sumo is getting groomed tomorrow, so I’m not gonna make it to the cafe,” Hank sounded almost upset that he was going to miss a day. Like he looked forward to these days too.

“That’s alright,” Connor said with a slight shrug, “we’ll see each other on Saturday.”

“See you Saturday then,” Hank responded with a half smile as he turned to leave.

Connor watched him go before getting back to his notecards. It took him a few hours and a couple cups of coffee to get them finished, and once he was done he headed home. He would probably stay home tomorrow too. Take a day to himself and mentally prepare for meeting Sumo and what that would bring.

He finished off the pizza and did the rest of his laundry. With his apartment mostly clean and his laundry done, Connor decided to call it a night. Once again messaging Hank before falling asleep.

Connor: Good night Hank

Hank <3: Night Connor

Hank <3: Don’t work too hard tomorrow

Connor: No promises, but I’ll try my best

He spent most of Friday morning fretting over what to wear. Eventually deciding on a black short sleeve button down that was patterned with gradient grey roses, black jeans and grey converse. It wasn’t a date, but looking nice couldn’t hurt anything. He hung the outfit on his closet door and paced into his living room debating on if it would be better to message his brothers or his friends. Richard hadn’t dated anyone before so seeking him out for romantic advise probably wouldn’t be the wisest. Silas preferred a friends with benefits arrangement over dating so he wouldn’t be any help. North would just make fun of him. That left Josh, Simon, and Markus. Simon and Markus were dating so that would probably be the best bet.

RunawayArkait has started a group chat with Made-By_Markus and SimonSays!

RunawayArkait: I need help

RunawayArkait: What does one do on a not-date visit to their crush’s house to meet their dog

SimonSays: Send their kind and supportive friends pictures of said dog. Obviously

SimonSays: Keep a level head, but pay enough attention to see if he is flirting back

RunawayArkait: Flirting back? That implies that I flirt with him. Which I don’t!

Made-By_Markus: But you do. I’ve heard all about it from Simon

RunawayArkait: Rude!

Made-By_Markus: As cliche as it sounds, just be yourself

SimonSays: Relax. Like you said, it’s not a date

RunawayArkait: Thanks I guess

Made-By_Markus: Anytime. Also Simon, I’m in the lobby

SimonSays: Alright. I’ll be down soon

RunawayArkait: And that’s my cue to leave. Enjoy your date!

Made-By_Markus: Thanks

Connor groaned at the lack of help. Figuring he was stressing too much over something that was decidedly not a date, he decided to spend the rest of his Friday curled up on the couch catching up on all of the true crime shows he had missed on his study binge.

He woke up at eight in the morning on Saturday. He took his time getting ready and once he was satisfied with his appearance he left for the cafe at around eleven-thirty. He decided to walk so he could work off some of the anxiety that was thrumming beneath his skin. He debated cancelling several times, but eventually decided that he deserved to meet a new dog after having worked so hard to pass all of his finals. If it so happened that he was reading too far into this, which was incredibly likely, he would have at least gotten to see a new dog. He would be able to add a Saint Bernard to his mug which he would have to edit and then reorder. He won either way.

Connor arrived to find Hank waiting outside the cafe with one of the biggest and most fluffy dogs he had ever seen. Sumo sat neatly beside Hank looking to be very well trained, which was probably pretty helpful considering the dog’s size. He took a picture of Sumo with is phone before greeting Hank.

“You’re here early.” Connor said in way of a greeting and Hank turned to him with a smile.

“So are you Con,” he said, lifting his free hand in a lazy wave, “but that’s more expected of you than me.”

Connor laughed, “Yeah.”

Hank changed the subject, “So I didn’t find a no pets sign but I just wanted to check if Sumo would be allowed inside.”

“Unfortunately no. We do have a service animal policy tough.” Connor kept himself from gesturing at the door with his free hand by reaching it out toward Sumo so the large dog could sniff at it, “I can go inside and get the drinks then meet you back out here, since I’m covering drinks today anyway. Your usual?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hank said with a thankful smile. “I’ll let you know if we head back to the car.”

“Thanks/” Connor said as he headed inside.

The line was thankfully short and it didn’t take long to place their order. An iced Americano for Connor and a Vanilla Latte with two shots of espresso for Hank. When he exited the cafe, both Hank and Sumo were at the bench.

“Ready?” Hank asked as he got up, Sumo obediently following suit.

“Yup.” He handed the latte off as they walked to the car and Sumo happily snuffled at his free hand as they went.

When they got to the car Connor opened the back door on the passenger side so Hank could get Sumo in. With that taken care of, Connor got in on the passenger side, only to have Sumo lean forward and lick a stripe up his face when he turned to look in the back seat. Hank laughed at the sight.

“Hello to you too Sumo.” Connor said, using his jacket sleeve to wipe the drool off of his face then reaching back to pet him, “its nice to meet you.”

“What kind of dog do you think you’re gonna get once you graduate?” Hank asked as he pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive to his house.

“Either an Australian Shepherd or a Golden Retriever,” Connor replied, “small enough to keep in an apartment but big enough to socially be considered a dog. I hope to be able to put them through search and rescue as well as service training.”

“Why am I not surprised you have all of this planned out.” Hank shook his head with a fond smile.

“I like being organized.”

“I can tell.”

Connor rolled his eyes, “What made you decide on a Saint Bernard?”

“I picked him up from a shelter a few years back.” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider his words, “my fiance and I had split and I didn’t want to be alone in the house. Took about a month to realize i was going to need a bigger yard and then we moved. Whoever had him first had already trained him which has made things a lot easier.” He looked in the rearview mirror at Sumo for a moment, “the big lug even knows a couple of hand signs.”

Hank had a fiance at one point, a few years back apparently. Connor wanted to ask about it, but the rapid change in topic made it clear that Hank didn’t want to, “Really? What commands does he know the signs for?”

“I’ll show you when we get to the house, how about that?” Hank suggested.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

As it turned out, Sumo knew the signs for sit, stay, laydown, and roll over. Connor spent the next few hours teaching him the sign commands for speak, play dead, shake hands, and high five. It didn’t go well, which was fine because hank seemed to get a kick out of it. Once he gave up and settled beside Hank on the couch they ordered take out and talked enjoying each other’s company. It was a few hours later, when they were getting ready to leave that Hank asked him a favor.

“So I kind of had an ulterior motive for asking you over today,” Hank started with a tentative smile. “There’s a writers’ conference next weekend, I was wondering if you would mind stopping by to check on Sumo while I’m away since he seems to like you.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” Connor said as he headed for the door. “He’s well behaved and a sweetheart.”

“Thank you so much.” Hank sounded genuinely relieved. He opened the front door and called over his shoulder to Sumo, “I’ll be back soon. Be good while I take Connor home.”

“I’ll see you next weekend,” Connor called to the dog as he left.

The ride to Connor’s apartment was filled with idle chatter, broken up occasionally by Connor giving Hank directions. It was nice, and his anxiety over today seemed distant and unnecessary. Today had been easy and comfortable. They arrived at his complex about twenty minutes later and Connor wasn’t ready to be done yet.

“Uh, today was nice,” Connor said eloquently. He was pretty sure he couldn’t have been more awkward if he tried.

“Yeah, it was,” Hank said seeming just as nervous, “um, if you want to come by again just let me know I guess.”

“Yeah. Uh, thanks then.” Hank unlocked the door as Connor reached for the handle, “I’ll um, I’ll watch Sumo whenever you need me to.”

“Thanks Con,” he said as Connor opened the door and got out, “have a good night.”

“You too Hank.” Connor gave him a slight wave before he shut the car door and went inside the complex. He had been so awkward. Hank definitely know now and he was probably uncomfortable.

Connor let out a frustrated groan once he was in his apartment. He made himself a cup of tea to help wind down before bed. The best thing he could do would be to act like nothing had changed and maybe they could still be friends. He sighed and finished his tea and got ready for bed. He texted Hank as usual before calling it a night.

Connor: Thanks for today Hank. It was a lot of fun

Connor: Good night

Hank <3: I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Sleep well Con

Connor smiled at his phone before setting it aside and falling asleep. As long as he could keep his feeling tucked away, things would be fine.

Sunday went by in a blur of studying and self pity. He answered messages as they came, trying to make it seem like things were normal. Like he hadn’t potentially fucked everything up. He was thankful he had today to wallow because come tomorrow he had to be a functioning human being. When he was getting ready for bed, he checked the messages from Hank like he hadn’t been avoiding him all day.

Hank <3: Are you coming to the cafe today?

Hank <3: Is everything alright?

Hank <3: Connor?

Connor: Sorry

Connor: My exhaustion from the week came back with a vengeance

Connor: I didn’t mean to worry you

Hank <3: It’s alright

Hank <3: I’m just glad to see that you’re okay

Connor: I’m going to call it a night

Hank <3: Sleep well

Connor: Thank you

Guilt clung to Connor as he drifted off making his sleep uneasy and restless. He didn’t mean to make Hank worry he just hadn’t known how to face him. When morning rolled around he was exhausted. He went through his morning routine on autopilot. He made coffee and poured it into his travel mug before walking to work. He was almost late, but made up for it by working part of the lunch rush. He didn’t see Hank before he clocked out for the day. He walked back home and took some time to himself before studying.

The rest of the week went similarly. His texts to Hank throughout the day and before bed became the parts of his routine he looked forward to the most. he had Friday off so he could take his nurses exam. Connor didn’t feel like he would be ready, but this was all the time he was going to get. He would deal with it come Friday.

He woke up early on Friday and spent his morning studying. He left for the university around two and messaged Hank first when he got in the cab.

Connor: On my way to the exam

Hank <3: Good luck

Hank <3: Let me know how it goes

Connor: Will do :)

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: Time for the exam

Sixty-Second-Set: You’ve got this

UnluckyNine; You’re more than ready

The Coffee Crew

RunawayArkait: Exam day

Northern_Lights: Bet you’ll be in the top half of the class

Echo-Over-The-Water: Good luck Connor!

SimonSays: You’ll do great

What.Josh.Does: Here comes the cafe’s second nursing student

Connor put his [hone on silent and spent the rest of the cab ride going over his notecards. Markus had given him a general idea of what the test would cover, though the specific questions were changed every testing period. The test was a mix of essay, short answer, and multiple choice questions. They would have three hours to finish. Connor wasn’t exactly confident that he would pass, but he was fairly certain he would finish before the testing period ended. The results would be posted on Monday and he would have time to register for the recommended classes and buy books after that. Not to mention a whole weekend with Sumo to help with his worry.

He took his time on the exam, and then more time to go back over and correct some of his answers. He turned in the exam with fifteen minutes left in the period. He ordered a cab and messaged Hank, knowing that the other was on a flight and he wouldn’t get a reply.

Connor: Finished my exam and I’m feeling pretty good about it

Connor: I’ll swing by in a couple hours to check on Sumo and send pictures

The Family Feud:

RunawayArkait: It’s done

UnluckyNine: Congrats

Sixty-Second-Set: Look at you go Mr. Nurse

The Coffee Crew:

RunawayArkait: Finished!

RunawayArkait: I’m gonna be gone for the weekend

SimonSays: Give Sumo lots of love for us!

Echo-Over-The-Water: Congratulations!

Northern_Lights: You did it

What.Josh.Does: Enjoy your weekend

When he got to his apartment he set his bag on the couch and set an alarm on his phone for three hours from now and laid down for a nap. When he woke up he would pack for his weekend with Sumo.

#A Cup of Something Better #dbh #d:bh #hank anderson #d:bh hank #dbh hank #connor rk800 #dbh connor #rk800 #d:bh connor #hank x connor #hankcon #hannor #dbh hannor #d:bh hank x connor

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