#he pretends to be offended at being lied to for about ten minutes

[oh-writing-my-writing]

sastiel, 1.2k, fluff ~ for @moostiel ♡

Sam wakes up to a sensation of closeness, warmth, and the unfamiliar feeling of fingers stroking his hair - a combination that would’ve lulled him back to sleep immediately, had a voice not interrupted his gentle reverie.

“Sam,” It’s Cas. Above, under and around him. A strange thing to think, but it feels correct. “Go back to sleep.”

Sam blinks, the haze of sleep fast fading.

“It’s still night.” Cas insists, and Sam can just about make out the indignance in his voice. Sleep-rumpled and bleary, it confuses him. “Four more hours, Sam, please. Go back to sleep.”

This time, his words actually register, and instinctively Sam cranes his neck to look at his alarm clock. It had taken a few months but they’d gotten used to not relying on a sunshiney wakeup call — living underground and all that. No suns knocking on your window and peeping through the drapes to confirm your resident angel’s claims, no sir.

But today, there’s no clock either. Just like there isn’t a bedside table.

Just like this isn’t Sam’s room.

“Dude!” Sam yelps, completely awake the second the shock settles in. (That's just the way it works.)

Wide-eyed, he takes in his surroundings - Cas’s trenchcoat slung over a chair, Cas’s chair, Cas’s chest of (mostly empty) drawers, and what can only be summarized as Cas’s room. And it’s an easy road from making that out, to making it to the source of Cas’s voice — Cas — above him, as earlier bizarrely suspected.

It’s an angle Sam’s never seen Cas from before - the little dimple in his chin as clear as the day-old stubble he wears eternally, black hair sticking out like it’s at war with itself as usual, and a minorly affronted frown tugging on the corners of his lips, wrong side up from where Sam's looking.

It’s — well, it’s kind of a nice angle.

Shit.

And maybe Sam isn’t completely up yet, because he finds himself distracted way too easily by the brand new perspective he gets of Cas’s wonky tie, and Cas's neck, and -

“Sam.” Cas repeats.

With a jolt, Sam’s up, heat rising in his cheeks as he finishes piecing the rest of the picture together. The hand in his hair, the warmth of his pillow, that feeling you get when you're being held, and the way he can see Cas’s Adam's apple bob when he speaks.

Holy shit.

He’d fallen asleep on Cas’s lap.

“C-Cas.” Sam stammers out, blushing furiously now.

Cas, inevitably, makes for a complete contrast to the way he feels right now — severely underdressed in his (still too large) white shirt, and perplexed instead of offended all of a sudden, with that little crease in his forehead that he gets. “I told you to go back to sleep.”

Sam’s eyes flit to Cas’s lap at the reference of sleep, where Cas’s trousers are rumpled - Sam’s fault, holy fuck - and his hand lies on the bed where, a minute ago, Sam had been. “Dude!” He flusters, eyes shooting up immediately, meeting Cas’s. “I can’t just go back to sleep on you! I -” Sam scrubs his face, heart still racing. “I don't even know how I ended up there!”

There’s a magazine in Cas’s hand - wait, that’s the Saturday Evening Post, isn’t it - and Cas immediately shifts all of his focus onto it.

There’s something wrong.

“Hey,” Sam swallows. “What is it? Cas?”

“Well,” Cas looks up. Thankfully it’s not going to take a lot to get the truth out of Cas, because that’s his confessional I-did-what-I-had-to-do look in his eyes. Used more than once professionally, yes, but never in context of just, you know, Cas and him. Them. “You fell asleep on the map table again.”

Cas lets out a reactionary sigh as Sam freezes. “But that's in the library -”

“I carried you here.”

Jesus, if he was blushing before. “You did what — ?”

“Sam,” Cas looks down at the page, and the back up, and maybe, just maybe, there’s some pink in his cheeks too. “We’ve had this conversation before. I’ve told you it’s not good for your spine -”

“- so you picked me up -”

“- and is one of the prime causes of your sleep deprivation -”

“- and carried me across the bunker -”

“- and you need to get more sleep, so I did what I thought best -”

“- and laid me back to sleep — what, with my head in your lap?” Sam finishes, chest heaving, in disbelief. Cas - he can’t just — goddammit, he can’t just pick Sam up, can he —

“Actually,” Cas licks his lips. “You did that yourself.”

“Well,” Sam’s already begun to say before he can run it through his head a couple billion times like he tends to do with sentences when its just him, and Cas, and the end of the world is not right there. “You were still the one playing with my hair!”

“I," Cas looks truly sheepish at that, and Sam regrets it instantly. “I’m sorry. I just — I thought -”

“Cas.” Sam interrupts, well and truly operating outside of his nervous system’s reach now. His brain sort of malfunctioned at the getting-picked-up-by-Cas part, and refused to really come back. Sam can't blame it - it’s a trainwreck over here. “I didn’t mean — not like that, okay? Don't be sorry. It was — nice.”

“You liked it?”

And the tinge of hope in his tone is all Sam needs to slammed in the face with a reminder of how goddamn smitten he is.

Before he knows it, he’s ducking his head, and rubbing the back of his neck, shy. “Y-yeah. Sure.” He chances a look at Cas again, and there’s a smile there now - full-blown, with the eye crinkles and the everything, and Sam’s insides flutter a little. Butterflies, or something pretending to be them. “People like it when — when other people do that.”

“I think the other people like it too.” Cas says simply. As if Sam’s senses had needed a further push away from coherence.

“Oh.”

Cas smiles again, it’s smaller this time. (God, Cas.)

“I mean, I —” Sam stammers. “I see.”

There’s a moment of silence - or even perhaps two, with Sam staring nervously, excitedly, awkwardly at the bedsheet, and Cas looking — god knows where, but it’s not at his damn animations, and it feels a lot like it’s at Sam, though he has no idea what to do with that.

At the end of it, Cas clears his throat.

“You still need sleep.”

“I just woke up,” Sam argues.

“Sam, I know how long you were asleep. I was there.” Sam flushes at his words. "Trust me, you need more.”

Sam can’t believe he’s actually considering it - but then, he can’t believe most of what’s happening right now, so figures, he reasons - but he finds himself asking, “What about you?”

“I don't need any.” Cas returns, tilting his head.

“I know that.” Sam’s eyes flit to Cas’s again. They twinkle back at him — so, so blue. “I meant, what about you now?”

“Well,” Cas’s eyes crinkle again, and something pulls in Sam’s heart. “If you don't mind, I think I’d like both of us to return to what we were doing.”

“Cas,” Sam says, soft, and that’s all the words he can think of.

And all the words he was looking for.

“I enjoy reading these, and you,” Cas goes on, his eyes back on the magazine, and they stay there for the rest of his sentence. “You have really soft hair.”

And maybe Sam imagines it, but his cheeks are a little pink again.

So Sam bows his head again and laughs, laughs till Cas joins in with that smile of his, and he scoots on the bed until he can be pressed up by Cas's side, their legs sprawled out in front of them, and Cas can resume whatever the hell he was doing that felt so friggin' good when Sam was asleep, and it’s adorable, and it's ridiculous, and it feels exactly like the kind of thing you remember forever.

[phoenixyfriend]

Rey Gives No F*cks About the Grandfather Paradox

Okay so since nobody’s suggested a fic under these terms, I ended up expanding on this post on discord and things snowballed. We kept to the basics of the entire plot revolving around Rey really hating her grandad and leveraging her blood relation to not be unalived about it.

With contributions by @atagotiak​, @dracothulhu​, @thepallaspalace​, and several others. The title comes from @gelpenss​.

The basic thing I absolutely need is this: Rey gets thrown back to the middle of the clone wars, and the subsequent plot leans in really heavily on her being, genetically-via-clone-dad, the daughter of the guy running the entire galaxy.

Nobody knows what to do with her.

The timing is mid-TCW for the past (because I want Ahsoka there) and vaguely between Episodes 8 and 9 because I... never watched E9 and don’t want to worry about the timeline. The only things that matter is that Luke is dead (he can die as he did in canon) and that Rey knows she’s Palp’s granddaughter (not the way she does in canon).

We'll say Luke found out from Anakin's panicked force-ghost and just went "well, fuck, okay, I should tell her this before she ends up in a situation like mine and finds out mid-battle or something."

Luke, prior to time-travel: Okay, so, now that I'm dead I know some things I didn't before. Like who your parents were. In the interest of full disclosure because I was in a very similar situation and I don't want you learning the way I did, I'm just going to come right out and say that your father was a clone was Sheev Palpatine. Rey: ... Luke: Are you okay? Rey: I don't know who that is.

(She grew up on Jakku, the history education was a little subpar.)

Setting The Scene

Imagine Rey showing up during or immediately before the clone wars. There’s this phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater who tells you that if you ran a paternity test, it would probably pop up the Chancellor. She may or may not bring up cloning. She accuses said Chancellor of being a Sith Lord.

Your other phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater, who may not be a teenager anymore but only barely, is very offended by this because Palpatine’s a Very Nice Old Grandfather Figure, but also he’s a little full of side-eye because if the blood test comes back as proof, then Palpatine had a kid and didn’t even know about them, or lied to Anakin, and that’s! Bad! Family’s important!!!

Palpatine hears about this daughter he apparently? Has? And is very confused because the timing doesn’t match up with ANYTHING he was doing, so the kid isn’t natural, and he says as much. (There is an explanation! It’s not a correct explanation, but he does come up with one.)

Finn and Poe and BB-8 all get dragged along because why not have the gang there? Nobody that’s already born, because [handwave] conservation of souls or something, IDK, point is the only person dragged along that’s even remotely close to already existing is Luke’s Force Ghost, who mostly hangs around begging Rey to be less impulsive. Finn is good because he is a nice polite boy, but for actual useful information they need Poe. The unfortunate situation is that the three do not land together. They land at the same time, in completely different corners of the galaxy. This means that nobody is there to curb Rey being her most impulsive self.

Time travel Rey knows two things. Luke’s dad ends up evil. Palpatine has always been evil.

She can solve one of these problems by killing the other, yes?

Rey: Ready to Rumble

See, the initial idea was this: Rey tried to break into the senate to kill Palpatine, got arrested, and then used the "he's biologically my father" card to get out of jail free. (Force Ghost Luke follows her like “please take five seconds to think this through.”)

But.

But.

It would be very, very, very funny if The Force just dumps her in a flash of light in the senate building and she just attacks Gramps on sight. Just a shouted "YOU!" and no-hesitation attempted murder.

Palpatine has no idea what's going on.

Rey took maybe two seconds to get identity confirmation and then started swinging.

[Image Description: An individual in a green metal helmet with an eye slit, holding a pistol. In the upper left, upper right, and lower middle are the phrases “I do not know who I am...” “I don’t know why I’m here” and “All I know is that I must kill.” End description.]

Of course, she gets arrested. There are Master Jedi in the Senate. There are Clone Troopers. Palpatine isn’t the weak old man he pretends to be. Of course she’s stopped.

But she isn’t executed in time for Palpatine to stop her from ruining his entire reputation.

Immediately after Rey fails to kill her Shitty Granddad, Luke's ghost shows up and begs her to not talk about the Sith thing because it will completely undermine everything she's trying to do. Pass off the attempted murder as something else!

Rey, panicking: "that fucker left me on a desert planet for 10 years!" "You owe me 19 years of child support you son of a Hutt!"

The Jedi have to do the investigation, because the girl showed up with a laser sword, and the conversation is, uh... interesting. (“Where did you get that lightsaber?” “I got it from a mysterious old pirate lady I never met before. I don't know, I was being shown around by a smuggler and a Wookie.”)

Interviewer: Why did you try to assassinate the Chancellor? Luke: Say it wasn't assassination. Rey: It wasn't assassination. Int: You weren't trying to kill him? Luke: Assassination has to be politically motivated. Rey: This was, um... not political. Assassination is political, right? Int: You mean this was personally motivated? Rey: Yes. Int: I see. What personal motivation? Luke: Jakku! Rey: He's my grandfather. Int: ... Rey: Possibly father. Nobody was very clear on that. Int: ... Luke: Tell them to run a paternity test. Rey: Oh hey, a blood test would tell us which, right? Int: ............ Rey: I spent ten years as an orphaned scrapdealer on Jakku. He's my father. I'm kind of a little angry. Int: ........... Luke: Good job, kid. You bought yourself some time. Int: I'm going to get a medic to see about that parternity test.

Obviously, it comes back positive. Congratulations, Sheev, you’re the father.

Rey comes with a ready-made built-in excuse for hating Palpatine that nobody can question or fault her for!

Rey, pouring Truth into the Force: I didn't even know I was related to the Chancellor until a few months ago, but it's his fault I grew up the way I did, and he should take some responsibility!

The entire thing is mostly kept hush hush but someone leaks it to the press and Palpatine's ratings tank.

"Chancellor, I think we'll need to waive family visitation until she wants you a little less dead." "I would like to find out why she wants me dead, and indeed, where she came from." "...sir, for your own safety--"

Who would win? A master plan years in the making spanning decades of manipulating and work? or One (1) paternity test

"Okay, so, Rey Palpat--" "Ew, no, I don't want his name." "You--okay. Sure, we can understand that. Is there a name you would prefer to put on the paperwork?" Rey, who would have gone by Skywalker in honor of Luke but can't do that when Anakin is right there and all: "Can I think about it?"

Rey: I don't know what I want my last name to be but I know I don't want his, and most of the people I’d want a name from have famous families like you... Luke's ghost, pointing out the Literal Nobody that she cares about a lot: How about Solo? Rey: ...Solo, then.

(A few months later she runs into Poe again and he offers for Finn and Rey to both take his name because honestly they need SOMETHING but at that point she’s already decided on Smuggler Dad.)

Backtrack a bit. We’ve got a bigger cast.

They all arrive separately. Poe, for one, does better than Rey, who is aiming for a murder, but not quite as well as Finn, who is currently being adopted and hidden like a secret cat by a bunch of Alpha Clones on Kamino. He vibes with the names-or-numbers thing. He doesn’t necessarily tell them where and when he’s from, but he’s very sweet and a great liar and they adopt him wholesale anyway.

The Finn situation is just... "Buir Ti, we need you to hide this man, we've decided he's our little brother but if Nala Se finds out she'll make him leave."

Of course, this leads into Shaak Ti teaching Finn how to Jedi.

Maybe consider Finn needing to almost be tricked into learning Jedi things because he willfully forgets it could apply to him. Finn does not like to think of himself as special, which is super valid, but frustrating for Shaak Ti when it comes to, you know, getting him to acquire knowledge. Finn's training at some point is "here, levitate objects with the Force to entertain the tubies." It’s a lot easier to convince him to practice when it involves the babies.

(Everyone on Kamino looked at Finn and went “oh I love him I’m keeping him and teaching him things.”)

(He’s just very lovable.)

Poe, meanwhile, buys the trust of Anakin Skywalker via R2D2 declaring BB-8 the absolute most baby of droids. R2D2 met BB-8 three hours ago but.

"Hey Obi-Wan this is Poe I met him like five days ago but R2D2 says he checks out because his droid is a baby." "That's nice, Anakin, did you know the Chancellor has a daughter who tried to assassinate him in broad daylight yesterday? Because guess who had to stop the Chancellor from getting assassinated by his daughter in broad daylight yesterday."

A summary so far:

Finn, on Kamino: Hey, um, I don't know where this is, but it's not where I was a few minutes ago. Do you think you could get me a comm? What's your name? Poe, on [dice roll] Denon: Oh, hey, you're General Skywalker? Nice to meet you, I'm so sorry about my droid, she's a little excitable and thought your R2 unit looked like a friend of hers-- Rey, on Coruscant: DIE, GRANDFATHER

Finn: [Peacefully vibing on Kamino, unaware of the chaos and bonding with the clones] Poe: [Trying to explain how he knows someone who tried to kill the chancellor and defend Rey] Rey: [Arrested for trying to kill the chancellor]

Just... just...

Anakin: Some guy ended up lost on base yesterday with his droid, how’s your day going? Obi-Wan: I had to stop someone who claims to be the chancellors daughter from murdering the chancellor after she seemingly blinked into existence in the Senate building. Poe: 😐

(Poe: Oh, so that's where Chaos^2 went.)

Poe: In her defense, she is his... well we don't know if she's his daughter or granddaughter, but she's definitely related to him, and she definitely grew up in a shitty situation that was his fault, so...

(Poe is trying very hard to explain this and not get arrested on the military base.)

As you’ve probably guessed, what's especially funny about all of this for me is the fact that Palpatine is fully aware that this girl shouldn't exist, but can't find a single piece of evidence about where she came from. He didn't start any experiments that could result in a female child, and he didn't have sex in that period of time, so where the hell--

Rey spends so much time in jail... BUT they do eventually assign her a Jedi Master. Possibly before she actually proves her evil grandfather is in fact evil. Most votes went to either Plo Koon or Obi-Wan. Plo, because he’s dad-shaped, and Obi...

"Obi-Wan, you already raised one feral desert child with implausible amounts of power, you handle this." Rey in return is very "Sweet, you vaguely remind me of Master Luke," and nobody knows who the hell she's talking about. Obi-Wan is NOT on board with this plan, she'd really be better off with Plo or like........ Mace.

Reunion Tour

What I need out of this is the eventual Finn and Rey reunion scene that is just excited screaming while someone in the background explains to Shaak Ti that yes this is apparently Palpatine's terrifyingly force-sensitive daughter who hates him.

(Finn senses Rey’s approach and just. Gathers the everyone to wait. He’s just :D REY MY FRIEND REY GUYS MY FRIEND REY IS COMING.)

Anakin shows up with Poe--just a guy who signed on to the military, no big deal--and then Poe and Rey are EXCITED and everyone's just like "Cool, how do you know this literal terrorist child?" And Poe has to scramble and "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh she saved my droid from a scrapheap once and BB-8 is basically my child so I owe her one."

Rey knows that Anakin ends up evil so she’s maybe not actively hostile but definitely very “I’m watching you.” That said, she vibes with him on a lot of things that he maybe doesn’t actively notice.

Rey picks up a snake, snaps off the head for venom avoidance, and starts biting off chunks. Obi-Wan's reaction: [undisguised horror] Anakin and Ahsoka: Ooh, where'd you find that? (Obi-Wan: And now I’m up to three feral children.)

What Does Palpatine Even Do?

OBVIOUSLY at a certain point, Palpatine is just phoning up every ally he has to figure out who broke protocol to synthesize a daughter for him.

So of course, Palpatine blame Plagueis.

She'd have been born five or so years before Naboo, just a few years younger than Anakin. It's such an EASY theory to build a conspiracy around. It is ENTIRELY WRONG, but it’s plausible! And anyone who might have been involved to say otherwise is probably dead!

A random bio-kid shows up you can’t possibly have contributed genes to? Maybe it’s the evil bio spark that did it.

Palpatine tries to placate her with the ‘my genes were stolen for an experiment and I didn’t know’ thing. It doesn’t work because her actual main complaint is he’s evil in her future but he tries.

It'd be a struggle to even get access to her, because of the aforementioned “maybe don’t try to talk to the daughter(?) that hates you” thing, but you know who Palpatine does have access to? The Chosen One.

Rey kind of decides on her favorites early on (she gravitates to Dad Energy and Sad Old Men so Plo and Obi-Wan are on her list, and that means decent time around Anakin and Ahsoka). It's really easy to talk Anakin into helping to some degree because "he'd like to connect to a daughter he never knew" and "a child of her power on a planet like that, you'd know her struggle, my dear boy" and so on. Anakin tries to connect! He tries to play up Sheev’s kind political work and how it can’t have really been his fault! It doesn’t work. Rey does not believe a word of it. Mostly she doesn’t even seem to hear him.

Rey's just like "...oh right, you're the melted mask that Kylo Ren was always ranting about," which means absolutely NOTHING to Anakin, but he mentions it to Palps, who loses his goddamn mind trying to figure out what she's talking about, because it also means absolutely nothing to him.

Here’s the thing: Rey’s already decided that Obi-Wan is cool, because Luke said so, and Plo Koon is dad-shaped, and she also gravitates towards earnest kindness in general, like she made friends with Finn real quick, so Ahsoka? Already getting along great.

She doesn’t dislike Anakin, really, he isn’t evil yet, he’s just... meh. She’s a little suspicious and she likes him less than the others but... Anakin.

Rey, to Anakin: You are my least favorite. Anakin, to Palpatine: YOUR DAUGHTER HATES ME???

And he goes from “she’s a lil standoffish” to “she doesn’t like me” to “she hates me” as is normal for Anakin.

It’s just an escalation of this one time Palpatine wants Anakin to not have rifts and trust issues with a person, at least not until later, because he needs information.

Meanwhile, that very moment, Rey is just like "huh, nobody here is listening to me about how make a sixth-hand carburetor work, where's Luke's dad?"

Anakin is venting to Palpatine about how hard it is to talk to Rey, and she's over in the Temple just like "Hey, that guy was useful last time, I should ask him," but also she only ever thinks of him as Luke's Dad.

(At one point, Obi-Wan is having a bit of a break down, and then Anakin starts having a breakdown about that, meanwhile the clones are (badly) trying to hide Finn behind their backs, Rey is watching Ahsoka practice and being like "I want two lightsabers," and Poe is trying to keep R2 from stealing BB-8 and Force Ghost Luke is just face palming in the background.)

(Rey deserved a saber staff, maybe one that can detach and turn into a jar’kai set. Possibly a pike. Mostly I just wish she got more chances to whack things with a big stick.)

[bbysamu]

His teammates overhear your embarrassing pet name for him // pt. III 

⇢ Featuring: OIKAWA Toru, KITA Shinsuke 

⇢ Genre: fluff

⇢ warnings: none!

⇢ wc: 786

⇢ Part I, II

a/n: thanks to the anon for character suggestions! 

━━ ➴ OIKAWA Toru 

truth be told, the team has heard a fair share of weird nicknames between the two of you already

The rest of the Seijoh boys can’t forget about the “fuzzy poo”, “my bookie cookie” no matter how hard they tried

Plus the two of you are pretty thick-skinned and don’t get embarrassed easily 

There is only one nickname that is reserved for the two of you in private, and it’s only used in desperate situations

like right now 

Oikawa is being a little (betch) irresponsible athlete

You sighed, rubbing your fingers against your temple

“babe...please just sit this practice out today.” 

He looks up at you defiantly, “You know I can’t do that. The game with Karasuno is coming up soon.” 

“Your knee is literally swollen right now.” 

He winks at you, “don’t worry, nothing a little ice can’t help.” 

“Toru I’m serious.” 

“Y/N so am I.” 

Little did you guys know the team is currently standing outside the gym, listening in on your attempt to persuade their captain to take a rest day

“Do you want Hajime to punch you?” 

“Iwa-chan loves me. Plus he knows how imperative it is for me to join in on practice today.” 

You sighed, deciding to switch tactic

You bent down slightly, so you’re on eye-level with your boyfriend

Oikawa stares back at you

“Please honey...what would I do if my little Oink Oink gets hurt?” 

Oikawa’s eyes softens, his pulls you in by the waist, “fine, your Oink Oink will take a break today.” 

The gym door slams open

You and Oikawa still locked in an embrace staring at the team as the team stares back at you guys 

“so...I’m going to take a break today. My knee isn’t doing so well.” 

The rest of the team slowly files into the gym preparing for practice

“don’t worry, you take care of that knee.” Iwaizumi says 

Oikawa was about to open his mouth to say thank you when Makki cuts him off

“yeah...take a break Oikawa. What would we do if our little Oink Oink gets hurt?” 

The slightest hint of red appears on the captains face as the Matsukawa falls on the floor laughing 

“shut..shut up!”

━━ ➴ KITA Shinsuke 

The two of you have nicknames for each other, but it’s only used in private 

In public, you just call each other by your names or the occasional “babe” and “darling” 

The two of you are currently in the volleyball club room 

No one else is in the room except for Atsumu, who is napping over in the corner 

“Kita I don’t understand this question...”

He turns your assignment around to him

“Oh It’s easy, you’ll get it in no time.” He smiles at you, “...what you need to do is....” Kita explains 

You smile as realization hit you

“this makes so much more sense now. Thank you babe!” 

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Atsumu is actually awake from his nap, but is low-key scared to get up and disturb the two of you

Ten minute passed as the two of you worked in comfortable silence

Kita checks his watch, “Y/N I gotta go to practice soon.” 

“okay, I’ll come as well.” 

“don’t you still have homework?” 

You nod, “but it’s okay. It’s pretty easy and short. I can just finish it tonight.” 

“are you sure?” 

You pretend to be offended, “what? you don’t want me at your practice Kita?” 

“no of course not! I want you at my practice. always.” 

You continued your light banter, pretending to pout, “you sounded like you wanted me to finish my homework instead of watching you play...”

Atsumu lies in the corner shook at your interaction. He has never seen this side of your relationship. You and Kita have always radiated mature parent vibes 

Kita wraps his arms around you, nuzzling you, peppering light kisses on your neck 

You reached down stroking his hair 

“I always want you at my practice and my games. I want you near me all the time.” He mumbles 

“I know baby. Same here. I’m just teasing you. I love you my skunkie plum” 

At “skunkie plum” Atsumu sits up shocked, face red from trying to hold in his laughter

“SKUNKIE PLUM? KITA WHAT?!” 

You and Kita jumped apart

“Aren’t you asleep?” 

“I've been up since ten minutes or so ago.” 

“why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I was scared...” Atsumu trails off

Kita clears his throat, “don’t tell anyone about this. Or I promise I'll give you one more reason to be scared.” 

Atsumu swallows nervously, pushing saluting Kita, and rushing out the door, “aye aye captain. See you later at practice.” 

Kita turns to you, “let’s save the nicknames for when we’re really alone.” 

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go 

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.” 

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear. 

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”  

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid. 

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room. 

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?” 

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.” 

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.” 

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked.��“That’s gotta count for something!” 

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him. 

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.” 

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?” 

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions. 

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.” 

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?” 

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.” 

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression. 

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.” 

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.” 

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours. 

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you. 

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.” 

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?” 

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.” 

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.” 

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure. 

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.” 

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?” 

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.” 

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.” 

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.” 

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?” 

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.” 

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.” 

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time. 

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.” 

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.” 

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?” 

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.” 

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes. 

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.” 

[jamespotterthefirst]

As Long as You Love Me So

aka the fake Christmas date (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.9K Warning: some language 

Premise: She is in desperate need of a date for her cousin’s pretentious dinner.

Author’s Note: Back at it again at Krispy Kreme with the fake dating trope. This takes place during the holidays in book 1. Thank you to @aestheticartsx​ for pre-reading this 💖

Can you pretend to be my date tonight? 

The biting Boston breeze cut into her exposed skin with an unforgiving bite, leaving her fingers numb as she sent the text. All around her, chatting and laughing couples milled about, basking in the golden lights of the city's Christmastime decorations. Those who weren't affectionately enraptured in each other or studiously deciding which of the many restaurants to pick from threw curious glances her way. 

Please? It's a long story but I can tell you when you get here. I'll pay you. 

Vaguely, she regretted the pale pink cocktail dress that left her shoulders, legs, and much of her chest exposed. An hour ago, it had seemed like the perfect dress to force her pretentious cousin, Griselda, into quiet envy. And while her plan had been successful for the better part of five minutes, Lilac's arrival at the restaurant without a date had been enough for her cousin to revert back to her sneering, condescending, look-at-my-successful-broker-boyfriend ways. 

 I'm offended, Lil. I'd do that shit for free. 

Bryce's text brought Lilac back to her current desperate situation. With unfeeling, shivering fingers she texted back. 

You don't need to know why? You'll do it? 

Bryce's reply came in instantly which Lilac was grateful for. The sudden breeze that rustled through her hair and bare skin made her shiver uncontrollably. 

No need to know why. I'd do anything for you. 

Her triumphant smile lasted only second as her phone announced a second text from Bryce. 

But I can't tonight. I'm assisting Dr. Tanaka and he'll murder me if I back out now. I'm so sorry, Lil. 

Lilac exhaled sharply, her breath swirling into the night like fog. This was what she got for letting her anger get the best of her. Wincing, she recalled the lie that had hurled from her lips with vehement, unstoppable force. 

“Not that it's any of your business but I'm dating a successful doctor from work.”

Griselda's brief shock had been vindication enough but when it slowly ebbed into a wicked, challenging sneer, Lilac felt utterly pathetic.

“Fuck her,” Lilac muttered with a sudden rush of righteous anger.  

So help her God, she was going to march back into the restaurant and promptly inform her stupid cousin that her dating life was none of her business. So what if Lilac couldn't make a relationship last longer than a few months or if she dated around too much? She would be damned if she allowed her pompous, gold digging cousin to slut shame her. 

“Please tell me you're not a smoker, Rookie.”

The familiar baritone sent a white hot thrill through her body before her brain registered who it belonged to. 

Handsome as ever, Doctor Ethan Ramsey stood before her, eyeing her quizzically. He looked magnificently elegant in a dark suit, topped with a dark blue coat and scarf. The twinkling Christmas lights of the street sent his striking features into sharp relief, making him appear even more attractive than should be allowed. 

He waited for her reply and Lilac jolted with a start. Nearby, a small group smoked as they talked and laughed. 

“No smoking for me.” She grimaced and added as an afterthought, “Though if I were a smoker, I'd need a full pack right about now.”

“Rough night?” 

“You've no idea.”

“Is that why you're standing out here in the freezing cold with no coat wearing…” 

He trailed off, piercing blue eyes sweeping over her attire. Lilac held her breath, the heat of his gaze feeling like a gentle caress of his fingers on her skin. 

“...That?” 

His gaze reunited with hers and they looked at one another in the noisy street, a charged silence stretching between them. 

Then, too suddenly, Ethan looked away, busying himself with removing his coat and draping it over Lilac's shoulders without much ceremony. The pleasant waft of his cologne comforted her almost as much as the welcomed warmth of his coat. 

“I never took you for the type to like any of these trendy restaurants,” she commented when there was nothing else to say. “Especially during the holidays, with so many people everywhere.”

Ethan grimaced slightly. “I had to join Banner Health for dinner. It seems cozying up to them at the baseball game a few months ago was not enough to get a good deal for our patients.”

Lilac pulled his coat closer around herself but said nothing. 

“What about you? Why are you so determined to die of hypothermia?” His eyes briefly swiveled to her dress again. “Is your date going that terribly?”

Ethan added the last part casually enough but Lilac sensed that he was extremely interested in the answer. 

“I would take a horrible date over what's going on in there.” She gestured toward the window of the restaurant with a nod. At Ethan's evident confusion, she added, “Family dinner.”

“Aren't you close with your family?” 

“My mother, father, and siblings? Yes. My cousin?” Lilac allowed a look of disgust to be her answer. 

The crowd of people that moved around them on the sidewalk forced them closer together. Lilac's stomach fluttered but Ethan looked unfazed, peering down at her expectantly, waiting for her to go on. 

“It's my cousin Griselda's annual Christmas dinner at this ostentatious restaurant. Mostly because she can't cook for shit.” She explained this with a sarcastic flair. “But we're all supposed to forget about that when she shoves expensive meals under our noses.”

To her surprise, Ethan chuckled. “Sounds like fresh hell. Why even attend?” 

“Because it would be unspeakably rude not to show up? The family drama this would cause would be ten times worse.” Lilac glanced through the window of the dark restaurant, all tables lit by candle light. “So instead, us poor bastards who live in the East Coast are forced to hear all about how successful and beautiful she is.”

In moving her hands and arms when shit-talking her cousin, Ethan's coat began to slip off one of her shoulders. 

“You're a doctor, Rookie. And a damn good one at that.” 

Ethan's eyes fell to the curve of her exposed shoulder then back to her eyes. His gaze held such intensity that she was momentarily struck motionless. Very gently, gentler than she had ever seen him before, he reached over to adjust his coat around her, the sweep of his fingers against her skin leaving a trail of heat.

“And not to mention you're also quite beau—” 

“So you made it after all.” 

Griselda looked directly at Ethan as she emerged from the restaurant. There was no greeting, only bitter disappointment in her voice. Her cousin's dark, judgmental eyes swept the handsome doctor from head to toe, as though trying to find a flaw but finding none to her dismay.

“We all thought Lilita here was bluffing.”

Ethan stared at Griselda with brief surprise at being addressed so bluntly. His questioning gaze briefly moved to Lilac who grit her teeth in embarrassment, wishing for the ground to swallow her whole. 

The longest silence in Lilac's existence passed before he spoke again. 

“I arrived as fast as I could on such short notice.”

Lilac's head snapped to look at him, only belatedly remembering to hide her surprise.

“It's unspeakably rude to invite someone impromptu,” Ethan continued, matching Griselda's cool, haughty demeanor. 

Lilac could have kissed him with gratitude. 

“Yes, well.” For the first time in her life, Griselda Castillo had no retort. 

It was all too perfect. All Lilac had to do now was make up an excuse for Ethan to go and no one would be the wiser about her stupid lie. Not even Ethan himself. It was all going to work out—

“Forgive me, we were not aware Lilac was seeing someone. Easy mistake to make.” Griselda threw a faux saccharine smile Lilac's way. “When we heard about the famous boyfriend, however, we just had to meet you.”

Fuck you, Griselda. 

Lilac couldn't decide if she wanted to push her cousin onto moving traffic or if she wished to walk right into it herself. 

Beside her, Ethan remained very still. 

“He actually can't stay.” Lilac said, her voice hitching higher in barely controlled panic. “He has to finish some research for his next case study.” 

Griselda looked between Ethan and Lilac, clearly unconvinced. Her crimson lips slowly turned up into a devilish, triumphant smile that would have put the Grinch himself to shame. 

Ethan seemed to recover beside her because he cleared his throat. 

Then, he moved to stand closer to Lilac and to her utter, complete shock, he wrapped an arm around her waist with enviable grace. 

“My research can wait, love,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. “If your family wants to meet your boyfriend then that's what they'll do.”

If someone had told him that morning that his day would end at the most pretentious restaurant in the city with Lilac Allende pressed close to his side, he would have recommended a brain CT scan. Yet, there he stood, being hastily introduced to people whose names he had no chance of remembering right away, not when Lilac's hand slid slightly down his chest, scorching him through the very fabric of his shirt. 

He glanced down at her and immediately realized what a mistake that had been. The glittering, sinful dress she wore was entirely too distracting on its own, but the charged way her green eyes studied his face... it made the energy between them crackle like an exposed wire.

“Everyone, this is Doctor Ethan Ramsey,” Lilac said to the curious and expectant table. “My…”

She trailed off, turning a bashful glance at Ethan. 

“Boyfriend,” Ethan finished without pause. He willfully ignored the thrill the juvenile word sent through him. 

As they took their seats, Ethan was still unsure what possessed him to pretend for her sake. All he saw was her cousin's mocking grin and Lilac's dejected, mortified frown and suddenly, he felt the urge to be anything she needed. 

“Pleasure, Doctor Ramsey,” Griselda said with as much enthusiasm as someone with a hernia. 

Ethan decided right then that if anything else, at least he would enjoy free food and alcohol, all paid for by Lilac's unpleasant cousin. When he looked over at his pretend girlfriend, pale dress glittering in the candle light and looking as radiant as ever, his blood buzzed with unbridled yearning.

“Ramsey?” the blonde man sitting next to Lilac's cousin asked with interest. “Why does that sound familiar? Where do I know you from?” 

“Ethan is a world famous doc—” 

“Wait,” a young woman with a mountain of curly hair and a kind face interrupted, enthusiastic. “He was in your Miami pictures, wasn't he?” 

Ethan blinked. 

Beside him, Lilac shook her head frantically at the young woman. 

“Natalia,” she hissed, but Natalia either missed this or ignored it. 

“You're so photogenic, Doctor,” she commented with a broad grin. “I messaged Lilita about it. The way she talked about you, it was so obvious she was into you.”

Ethan raised an intrigued eyebrow at the lovely, blushing doctor beside him. Lilac, however, studiously avoided his eyes, suddenly very interested in her wine. 

A young man sitting next to Natalia laughed. He shared many similarities with her, including the unruly curls. 

“I think we all called that one, Nat.”

“Has everyone tried the calamari?” Griselda interjected sharply. Ethan got the impression she didn't appreciate any conversation that was not solely about her. “It is divine.”

As Natalia rolled her eyes and challenged that proclamation, Ethan leaned in close to Lilac, the heady scent of her perfume sending his mind to less than honorable places. She had been leaning in too and they ended almost nose to nose. 

“You don't have to do this for much longer,” she whispered. “I can think of something so we can leave.”

Ethan ignored this and instead asked, “Miami pictures?” 

She blushed even deeper.

“Into me?” 

She was the color of her wine by now. 

Ethan had never seen this timid, demure side of her. Typically, the roles were reversed where he was the object of her teasing. As he watched her lovely blush spread down to her graceful neck, Ethan found he enjoyed this dynamic. 

It made him wish he could kiss her. Hard. 

“Tell her, Lilita,” the curly-haired young man called from his seat, making Griselda's eyes bulge out with indignation. “Aunt Margo's tamales are the only acceptable meal for Christmas.”

“Sebastian, you are making a scene,” Griselda muttered. 

“I'll let my mom know you miss her food, Sebas. She'll love you more than she already does,” Lilac laughed.

 The sound, accompanied with the fact that she looked so much more at ease, made Ethan's chest glow with contentment. 

Before he could stop himself, his hand moved atop hers under the table. Lilac stiffened in surprise but relaxed immediately after, keeping their hands locked. 

“I'm just not convinced tamales make for an elegant Christmas dinner,” Griselda was saying. 

“Bitch, you grew up in Guadalajara,” Natalia returned at once. “That's all you ate in the winter.”

The whole table laughed, much to Griselda's fury. The blonde man beside her rubbed her back soothingly to no avail. Instead, her sharp eyes zeroed in on Lilac like daggers and an air of conceit returned to her expression. 

“So how long have you two been together?” 

“A few months,” Ethan returned with ease. 

“Ooh,” Natalia commented. “The honeymoon stage! Where you can't keep your hands off the other and all you want to do is—” 

“Funny,” Griselda continued, eyes never leaving Lilac. “My cousin never really mentioned you.”

“She never really mentioned you either,” Ethan deflected. 

Sebastian almost choked on his drink. 

“How did you meet?”

Griselda's question came off as a challenge. 

“We work together.”

“Is that allowed?” 

“Yes.”

Below the table, Lilac gripped his hand. Ethan squeezed back, wishing more than anything that his lie was true. 

“Was it love at first sight?” Natalia asked with genuine interest.

“Have you seen her?” the blonde man joked before Ethan could consider the question or how much he despised the phrase "love at first sight." Something coiled in his stomach at the less than innocent smile the man was sending Lilac's neckline. 

His fist clenched at his side, itching to connect with the man's jaw in a swift undercut. 

“Keith,” Griselda chided, also looking thoroughly displeased. 

Keith did a poor job at looking abashed. This did not fly with Natalia, who Ethan liked more and more each minute, because she glared at Keith and scolded him in both English and Spanish. 

“You don't have to answer Nat's question if she asks again, by the way,” Lilac said as her cousins argued.

Ethan said nothing, careful to keep his expression neutral. 

If he were to answer the question, the answer would be a resounding no. His feelings for the beautiful young doctor before him did not arise from their first meeting. As a matter of fact, after the thoracotomy, Ethan had walked away thinking her arrogant and impertinent, just like any other fresh-faced intern eager to impress an attending. Except this intern had done so by flirting with him. 

 Instead, he thought of her hand atop his in the NICU as they watched over Dolores's baby fight for his life; of the comforting hand on his knee as he told her about Naveen; of every kind, warm smile she gifted him with when passing each other in the hallway. 

It had decidedly not been love at first sight. The clichéd expression would never be enough to capture the way his heart ached for her every time he laid eyes on her, each time with much more force. 

“No amount of free alcohol or expensive food should make you feel obligated to act that much,” Lilac laughed, oblivious. Sparkling green eyes met his, taking in his expression. “What?” 

Ethan swallowed. He was unable to decide if he wanted to tell her he was far from acting or if he wanted to pull her close and kiss her. 

“We're leaving,” Griselda announced in a harsh and dramatic whisper as a way to end the ongoing argument. She frantically collected her belongings and rose at once. 

When she realized no one at the table was saddened by the announcement, she marched out of the restaurant with Keith at her heels. As soon as she was gone, Natalia cackled. 

“Well, that was one of the better Grinch-elda dinners.”

Sebastian threw Ethan an appreciative smile. “It appears Doctor Ramsey is the only one who can tame her. She finally met her match.”

“That was her tame?” 

The cousins laughed. 

After a final round of drinks, Natalia and Sebastian announced that they too had to depart. When they were out the door, Lilac exhaled and relaxed for the first time all evening. 

“Thank—” 

But Ethan shook his head, interrupting. “Don't mention it, Rookie.”

Lilac gave him a single nod and when she couldn't stand the heat of their eyes on one another’s, she averted her gaze to readjust the front of her dress. 

Soon they would each be going their separate ways and this brief fantasy would really be over. 

With a pang, he realized he didn't want it to be. 

“Lilac?” 

“Hmm?” 

Her eyes met his and Ethan forgot all coherence, not that he knew what exactly he planned to say anyway. Rosy, plush lips commanded his attention and Ethan leaned in, determined to feel them against his again. 

Lilac moved too, until their breaths mingled together, the distance separating them as insignificant as the million reasons they deemed this a bad idea.

They were so close now, Ethan's hand moving to the dip of her waist. She whispered his name, a silent invitation, and the last remnants of restraint vanished. 

“Oh shit. Sorry—” 

Natalia halted at their table, slightly out of breath, nose and cheeks rosy from the cold. Lilac and Ethan sprang apart, which only made Natalia wince apologetically. 

“I'm so sorry to interrupt but I can't believe I forgot to tell you. We're all spending New Year's Eve in Griselda's cabin in Vermont. It’s going to be this but ten times worse so we need all the backup we can get.”

Lilac tensed visibly next to him. 

“You two should come.”

Author’s Note: If you made it this far, thank you! 

I decided Lilac’s family nickname is Lilita because Latin American families do that all the time. For example, my cousin’s name is Teresa and they call her Teresita (in diminutive form with the -ita/-ito). Which is hilarious to me because they make the names longer rather than shorter. They do that with own full name too, lol. I love it. 

Anyway: Hopefully, my inspiration doesn’t vanish for a part 2! 

Happy Holidays to everyone! 

Tags: @openheart12​ , @takeharryandgo​ , @trappedinfanfiction​, @aestheticartsx​, @aworldoffandoms​, @paulfwesley​, @myusualnerdyself​,  @rookie-ramsey​, @ohchoices​,  @enmchoices​, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​, @choicesfanaf​, @openheartthot​, @octobereighth​, @nazarihoe​, @utterlyinevitable​, @kites-in-our-skies​, @maurine07​, @schnitzelbutterfingers​, @doilooklikeiknow​, @snesdudes​, @kingliam2019​, @perriewinklenerdie​, @cinnamonspongecake​, , @queencarb​, @ethxnrxmsey​, @missmiimiie​, @jens-diamondchoices​, @adamsdumortain​, @apphia12​, @kalogh​, @lucy-268​, @binny1985​, @queenbirbs​, @honeyandsunfl0wers​, @newcolonies​, @lilyvalentine​, @rigatonireid​, @interobanginyourmom​, @parkerattano​, @custaroonie​, @nikki-2406, @lilypills​, @chasingrobbie​, @nooruleman​,  @lonely-mxxnlight​, @ruinedbypixels​, @shadynaturehilariouscookie​, @tsrookie​, @mvalentine​, @professorkingslay​, @drakewalkerfantasy​, @casey-v​, @helloblueeyedcat​, @mysticaurathings​, @blossomanarchy​, @thegreentwin​, @togetherwearerapture​, @rookieoh​,  @rookiemarsswiftie​, @natashajaniphilchoices​, @mysticalgalaxysstuff​, @hatescapsicum​, @choices-lurker​, @kiara-36​, @junehiratas​, @danijimenezv​, @macy-ray85​, @adrex04​, @canigetanawwjunk​, @sanchita012​, @overwhelminglyaquarius​ , @scorpiochick8​, @skylarklyon​, @starrystarrytrouble​, @mercury84choices​, @drariellevalentine​, @ethanrcmsey​,  @aarisa-frost​,  @udishaman​, @a-crepusculo​, @quacksonlover​, @caroldxnvxrs​, @ramseyandrys​, @whatchique​​, @openheartfanfics​​@varikasnuori​, @dimitriwife​​, @genevievemd​​, @shanzay44​​, @fabi-en-ciel​​, @trebondialanna​​, @lady-calypso​​, @ashiiknees​​, @dr-ramseys-rookie​​, @stygianflood​​, @bellcat2010​​, @iemcpbchoices​​,  @emotionalswift2,  @lion-ess24,

[zodiyack]

Heart Of Gold

Pairing: John Shelby x Female!Reader, Polly + Female!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 1,896

Summary: Polly cares for Y/n in private, feeling sympathy for the woman left with her five year old boy and no money or food, but John stumbles in on one of their meetings and can’t help but be nosy.

Note: So! I won’t be active this weekend, hopefully I upload a couple fics to my que beforehand (I’m planning on it, but I can’t promise anything). also, pardon my shock of just now discovering that fridges have existed since like 1805, and my odd hysteria over the word count... John was born in 1895 lmao

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @simonsbluee​, @peakysputain, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Polly!” The little boy, knots and tangles in his beautiful h/c hair, ran to the woman and giggled as she lifted him up. She held him on her hip, walking to Y/n and giving her a side-hug.

“It’s nice to see you too, Jonas.” Polly smirked at Jonas. His appearance was rather “rich-looking” despite him being nowhere near such. The truth was, ever since the Peaky Blinders had been making tons and tons of money, Polly had been helping Y/n and Jonas.

When she first met them, she had just bought herself a gorgeous gown. She remembered stumbling upon the little boy, his mother chasing after him. Halting in place, she began chuckling to herself as the boy flashed her a smile, his two front teeth nowhere to be found.

Polly took them in. Sneaking them into the house when the rest of the family had left, buying them clothes, teaching Y/n stuff like baking- cooking- sewing- really anything that could help her and Jonas. She felt like she was a mother all over again, only this time, to a woman and the woman’s son.

But, hey, she wasn’t one to complain.

“His teeth are growing back in. Soon, he will be a big boy, isn’t that right Jojo?” He nodded in response. Jonas opened his mouth and tapped his gums, where, sure enough, two tiny teeth were poking out- slightly visible but not that much. Polly rubbed his cheek, pinching slightly, and kissed the opposite one.

“When I’m a big boy, I get to help!”

The women laughed with adoration and intrigue. “How so, little Jojo?”

“Well...I can protect mommy. That’s what big boys do, especially the big-big boys- they fight in wars against other big-big boys.”

He had a great amount of bravery and an equal, possibly even greater, amount of imagination to balance it out. Having never known his father, Jonas took it as his sworn duty to care for and protect his mother. And while Y/n found amusement in her mini knight in shining armor, she felt insecure in her parenting skills; if he were to make it his duty to protect her, thus taking what she felt her was job as a mother, what would she do?

Polly had been their savior and somewhat-Y/n’s-counselor. In summary, Pol had known how Y/n felt about her little boy’s confidence, many worries consisting of his safety, her insecurities, and how their relationship would turn out as he grew older.

“That’s right. However, little one, your mummy would like to protect you until you’re old enough to protect her and yourself.” Polly brushed his hair from his eyes. She studied his small face for any negative reactions before continuing, “Is that alright with you?”

He thought for a moment and brought his finger to his lips. As he furrowed his brows and scrunched his face, his baby-fat clung to his cheeks and made his expression look more cute than intimidating. “I guess... But I can still protect her...right?”

“You can protect each other.”

“Hooray!” Jonas’ arms flung into the air whilst he began to celebrate.

“Alright, aright, Mr. Hero. It’s time for your bath.” Y/n traded the set of clothes and a small-ish towel to Polly in exchange for her son. She kept him busy as Pol started the boy a bath.

It was a regular routine. Twice a week they’d come in to bathe, eat, get some homeschooling done, and just have some social interaction time with someone they both knew and were actually comfortable with.

They put him into the tub and allowed him some time to play. Polly looked at her pocket-watch, noting the time it had been when he’d got in, and made sure to check ever now and then for when he would be required to start the actual bathing process.

“You can take a nice, long, bath after, dear.” Polly had never been subtle about her observation-skills, and today was no different; she waited until the tea was done before continuing to talk, pouring two cups of tea and a cup of milk. She set a cup of tea in front of Y/n and the cup of milk in front of the seat next to her. The third teacup was in her hands as she sipped it slowly.

“Pardon?”

“You’re stressed. You’ve got bags under your eyes, Jojo has way to much energy to be normal, you can hardly keep up with him, not to mention- the way you looked at that hot water...”

“It’s fine... I-”

“No.” Polly set her cup down, “It’s not ‘fine’, Y/n. You’re stressed. That’s normal for a parent. You just need some time to relax. I know you usually just wash your hair and body- but please; take advantage of this. Take advantage of it, for once.”

Y/n laughed for a second, but stopped when she realized Polly had been serious. “W-what do you mean?”

“Stay in that tub. Wash yourself before or after- I don’t care. Just stay in it, relax in the warm water, close your eyes if you’d like, anything as long as you relax and stay in the tub.”

“I’m ready!” Jojo’s high-pitched voice rang from the other room, catching both adult’s attention.

Polly downed the rest of her tea and stood up, pushing her chair in. She didn’t leave without giving Y/n a kind smile that disguised the pensiveness in her eyes and voice. “Think about what I said.”

Eight or more minutes later, Polly had returned to the kitchen. Jojo sat on her hip, clad in only his little undershorts and equally as small wife-beater. Aside from clothing, he also wore his towel- which lied over his shoulders as he shivered.

Before Y/n could stand up to grab her son, Polly put her arm out, “Bath. Now. Before I set Jojo down and force you in there myself.” She knew Pol was joking, but she also knew how serious she was.

So she obliged, walking into the room and stripping down before stepping into the tub slowly and sinking into the hot water. It wasn’t too hot, nor was it too warm or cold- it was just perfect. If only she’d listened to Polly about everything- it had been less than ten minutes, and she was already drifting away.

Although her eyes were clenched shut and her body and breathing acted as if her brain had commanded the REM cycle to start, she was wide awake. ‘How silly I must look,’ she thought to herself, ‘A woman who’s never relaxed in her life? No wonder Polly can see right through me.’

The feeling of comfort, given to her by the noises of Jonas and Polly’s laughter as Pol found a way to make getting dressed all the more fun, held her down into the tub and prevented her from leaving, glad that Jojo was safe and having a good time.

Polly poked her head in the door, “I’m going to take Jojo to buy a new toy.” Y/n opened her mouth to object, telling Polly she didn’t have too, but the woman held up a hand and cut her off, “I’m aware that it is unnecessary, but he’s been well behaved for every visit, so I figured he earned it. We’ll be back shortly, I promise.”

She hesitated but nodded and yelled a goodbye to the two, sinking lower into the warmth of the water and shutting her eyes again. Minutes had gone by, the only sound being her fingers skimming through and under the water and the soft breaths that escaped her mouth.

However, the state of solitude had been shoved aside when the door opened and footsteps paced to the kitchen.

Y/n sat up and opened her eyes. She waited for a sign that Jojo or Polly were headed towards the bathroom, perhaps to retrieve or check on her, but nothing came. Slowly and carefully, Y/n stood up and stepped out of the tub, wrapping her towel around her torso and walking out of the room.

“I know you said you’d be back shortly, but I didn’t think you meant that short-” she had been expecting Polly and Jonas, coming back with more toys than they’d originally left for, but was greeted by a man’s backside as he dug through Polly’s refrigerator. He pulled away from it, a bottle in hand and a smile upon his face, and turned towards Y/n. His smile faded as he looked her up and down.

He gulped before speaking, quite obviously affected by her appearance. “Who’re you-”

“I could ask you the same thing! What are you doing here?”

“This is my home!”

Polly had never told her of any men residing in the home, “If you’re lying to me, you’d better say so now.”

“I’m not fuckin’ lying!” The man looked almost offended, “I live here! Now, please, inform me and why you, from what I can see, are using my tub?”

“For your information, not that you need- let alone, deserve- to know, I was told to relax.”

“Deserve?” A scoff tumbled from his mouth, “Well- not in my bloody house! Go home! Go ‘relax’ in your own fuckin’ bath!” He ran his hand down his face and began to drink from his bottle, but whispered to himself before his lips met the cold lining of the top. “Jesus...”

“Ah, I see you two’ve met.” Polly commented from the doorway, “John, this is Y/n. Y/n, John. He’s my nephew.”

“I thought I was your nephew-” John’s eyes darted down beside Pol, a bit of shock in his system when they found a little boy standing next to her- the spitting image of the woman he’d just met.

“No, love, you’re my pretend nephew. Like a god mother, but an aunt instead.”

“Shit- I’m so sorry-”

“No...There’s no need for apologies. I can imagine how surprising it is to find a stranger half-nude in your home.” She chewed on the inside of her mouth nervously and presented her hand for him to shake. “Y/n L/n. That monster over there is my little boy, Jojo.” Almost ending the introduction there, she realized what she’d missed and rushed to talk before he could. “His actual name is Jonas L/n.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n and Jojo. My name is John Shelby.” John observed Y/n, and as he did so- he swore his heart did a backflip. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” It was like he broke character; his voice softening and his eyes narrowing, a small grin pulling at his lips when Y/n let out a nervous chuckle and averted her eyes. He forgot that they weren’t the only people present.

“So I take it they can continue to visit- only now, they may while you and the others are present?”

John nodded, still not fully focused on anything except for the woman, whom he could’ve sworn was a literal angel, in front of him. Had it not been for his aunt’s kind heart, he would’ve never met the woman who managed to steal his heart upon their first, and very unplanned, meeting.

Due to his trance-like-state, it had taken him a minute or two to process what his aunt said, but by then, Y/n was back in the bathroom- likely getting dressed- and Jojo had followed Polly to the family room.

“Wait- continue?”

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 9: Hesitancy

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Changing the chapter naming scheme; my brain can't handle two-word summaries anymore. This one is a lil short but very soft and I promise relationship progress is made. As always, I hope you love it. <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary:  “Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

Words: 1962

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

There was no way in hell you could go into work today.

You didn’t actually have a choice, which is why you’d driven there. But you simply couldn’t command your feet to walk you into that office, towards the teams’ inquisitive stares and deductive skills that were closer to mind-reading than you were entirely comfortable with. You’d adjusted and re-adjusted your lipgloss several times over in the mirror, brushed through your hair, and even though you knew there was no way the team could know what happened 20 minutes ago in the park, you felt like you might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said “Aaron Hotchner and I Just Kissed (On the Lips).”

So you were holed up in the parking garage of the FBI in your piece of shit 2007 Toyota Camry. Stalling.

You sighed when you felt your phone buzz, knowing what the notification was. You were only seven minutes late, but seven minutes was eight too many in Hotch’s book. You checked the message.

Hotch: Please come inside.

So he knew you were hiding out, then. You sighed and slammed the car door, trudging up the stairwell and into the building.

Exiting the elevator to your floor, you paused outside of the frosted glass doors leading to the BAU and tried to still your breathing. Despite Hotch’s apparent instant regret and quick departure occupying the forefront of your mind, you still couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that kiss had been. The part of you that wasn’t filled with panic about his reaction was squealing like a little kid at the confirmation that holy shit, he liked you too. You took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of professionalism and composure you could muster, and walked in.

You made it less than halfway to your desk.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa; don’t just walk in here like I’m gonna let that slide.” Morgan swung his legs off his desk and stood up in front of you. “Every day you get in at least ten minutes early and now you’re walking in late looking like you got something to hide. Spill it.”

Your open-mouthed gaping by way of response was blissfully interrupted by Hotch calling your name from the balcony overlooking the bullpen.

“Garcia needs your help finishing up reports. Meet her in her office.”

You shrugged to Morgan. “Duty calls. Sorry!”

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy!” he called after you as you scampered towards the safety of Garcia’s tech lair.

You knocked on her door, and she greeted you with her standard excess of enthusiasm.

“Come in! I’m just going through my keylogs for the past few cases and filling out reports of every database I had to access less-than-legally.” She shot you an evil grin. “Which is a lot. You can help me by typing up the information into the actual reports on your computer.”

Just happy to be away from the teams’ prying eyes, especially a certain someone’s, you nodded. “Let’s do it.”

***

Not half an hour had passed when Garcia swiveled towards you in her chair, clutching her pink feathered pen with a knowing glint in her eyes. “So. Tell me.”

“What?” you asked, trying to hide your shock with feigned innocence.

“Oh, honey, come on. I may not be a profiler, but I’ve picked up a couple things throughout the years. And I can tell something’s up.”

“God damn it,” you groaned and laid back in your chair. “I thought this was a no-profiling zone.”

She smiled even wider, if that was possible. “It is. But for you, my dear, I have made an exception.”

“Did Morgan put you up to this?”

“He may have possibly texted me telling me that you were late this morning.”

You rolled your eyes.

“But you’re never late! Even I know that! So -” she scooted closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially, “- spill.”

Sighing, you weighed your options. The last thing you wanted to do was create drama and jeopardize your position, much less Hotch’s reputation, but you were itching to tell someone - if only to get their opinion on the matter. And it wasn’t as if you had anyone else to talk to…

“Fine!”

Garcia rapidly motioned her hands to signify you to continue.

“But you can’t tell anybody, okay? I’m serious, Penelope.”

“Not even-”

“Especially not Morgan.”

She pouted but reluctantly agreed, and you took a deep breath and told her everything.

How you’d developed an innocent crush at first, how it had spiraled out of control, how you’d visited his apartment and he’d told you about his past, and finally, how he’d kissed you in the park just that morning. You stopped, awaiting her reaction, but she was uncharacteristically silent.

“...Garcia?”

She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, are we talking about Aaron Hotchner, like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, like boss man Aaron Hotchner? Mr. Grumpy? Never smiles, always wears a suit, carries the weight of the world on his sculpted shoulders?”

You glared, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, “It’s just -” her voice softened, “- in the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him act like that. Bring someone coffee, breakfast, open up to them. The whole bit.”

Your heart fluttered more than you’d like to admit at that.

“Listen,” she continued, “I don’t have to tell you that life has not been kind to that man. And I’m not gonna give you the stupid speech about dating an older man or dating your boss, because I don’t give a shit. But I will tell you - he’s been through enough. So if this isn’t what you want, back out now.”

Her tone was kind, but the seriousness of her message was evident. You nodded in understanding.

“I get it, but I don’t think he’s the one that’s gonna end up getting hurt here.”

“Well, hopefully nobody will get hurt and you’ll both ride off into the sunset together. But you gotta talk to him first.” She ignored your pained groan. “I’m serious! Nothing good is going to come out of you guys dancing around this. People act really stupid when they’re pretending they’re not in love with each other.”

Cocking your eyebrow, you shot back, “Kinda like you and Morgan?”

She flushed scarlet and waggled her ostentatious pen in your direction. “Touché.”

***

The thought of being emotionally vulnerable to Hotch made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit, but the more you mulled over it, the more you realized Garcia was right. Hotch knew how you felt - your fervent response to the kiss had made that abundantly clear - so what did you have to lose, really?

(Besides your career and the respect of your boss, but you tried not to consider that possibility).

He’d kissed you, you reminded yourself as you tried to focus on reports.

He cares about you, you recited like a mantra as you waited for the workday to end.

He’s twice your age and a widower with a dead kid and your Unit Chief, you panicked in the bathroom as you avoided the knowing eyes of the rest of the team.

Still, 6 pm limped in eventually and you bid everyone a good night from your desk as they filtered out. Hotch, unsurprisingly, was not among them. You planned to wait until you two were alone in the office so you could approach him undisturbed.

What you didn’t expect was just how late he worked - it was nearly 9 by the time he locked up his office, briefcase in hand, and turned to see you still sitting at your desk.

“Oh,” he said. You tried to decipher the tone of the syllable - surprised? Pleased? Indifferent? But came up short.

“I thought we could talk,” you offer cautiously.

“About wha-” he began, then seemed to think better of pretending he didn’t know and sighed. “You’re right. We should.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “I wanted to apologize for my actions this morning. I took advantage of a situation where you felt comfortable spending time with me outside of the office, and I should have never let it get that far. If you want to speak to Strauss about transferring units, I completely understand.”

You gaped at him. Was it truly possible for a man this astute, this in-tune with human behavior, to be this stupid?  

“Is that what you think this is?” you asked, practically launching yourself out of your seat from the sheer force of your bewilderment. “You think you took advantage of me? That I just went along with it because you’re my boss or something?”

The barely concealed shame in his eyes answered not only that question, but also the one you’d asked yourself beforehand - no, Hotch wasn’t stupid. He was broken. He was filled with so much self-hatred that the only explanation he could concoct as to why you were spending so much time with him was the one where you were trying to avoid offending your creepy, older boss. The realization filled you with such heartbreak that you nearly choked on your next words.

“Aaron,” you started, and it was strange how well a name you’d never before dared to say fit in your mouth, “I’ve -”

Don’t say loved.

“- liked you since that case in San Diego. I don’t know how you haven’t figured that out, considering the fact that I wake up an hour early every morning - I hate mornings, by the way - to get coffee with you. But I like you. And I know for a fact you feel the same way, so don’t try to pretend like you did after the bar.”

The number of times Hotch had been rendered speechless in his lifetime could be counted on one hand, and this made the list. You waited for him to respond, and he did, finally, in the most muted voice you’d ever heard him use.

“It isn’t right.”

“Please,” you implored, taking a step closer to him. “Don’t do that. You’re not going to talk me out of this, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to talk yourself out of it too.”

“I’m your Unit Chief,” he said, his voice regaining the power that usually accompanied that statement, “and I’m old enough to be your father.”

“And I’m an adult fully capable of making her own decisions,” you responded.

“The practicalities; they’d be a mess. Informing the Bureau, the team…”

“Would I have to quit my internship?” you asked, your only genuine hesitancy surrounding the situation.

“Well, no,” he shook his head slowly, “but we'd be subject to a much higher level of scrutiny.”

“I’m prepared to be scrutinized.”

“Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

He didn’t say anything, but you could tell what he was thinking. A man like him, someone who carried more than a few lifetimes of trauma and guilt, wasn’t someone to get involved with on a whim - for both of your sakes. This was more so the concern, you suspected, than anything he’d already mentioned.

“I know what I’m getting into, Hotch. I’m not expecting this to be easy.”

“Well, I -” he shifted uncomfortably, more visibly nervous than you’d ever seen him. “Can I least give you time to think about it?”

“Doubt I’ll be able to think about anything else,” you teased, and, with a sudden surge of courage, you stepped forward on your tiptoes to plant a feather-light kiss on his cheek.

The flush that spread up his neck was, decidedly, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Taglist: @stop-drop-and-drumroll @criminalmindzjunkie @xoprincessmel @cevanswhre @addie5264 (Message me if you want to be added!)

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters: Prologue

As promised, here is the prologue for the series. 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder reference, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Board | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

*************************************************

(This gif is not mine)

Prologue: Get It Together!

She was gonna do it. Yes, of course, she was. She had finished college, gotten a doctorate, taken down an armed serial killer, been held hostage and now she worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, one of the most exclusive and hard to join teams in the FBI, so of course she could do this! Yet here she was, breathing heavily as she tried to press the button, it was now or never.

Maybe never?

No! She couldn't be afraid anymore, she had to do it. She was twenty-eight years old, she couldn't just... But what if her age was the reason this was pathetic? No! She had to do it, she had to do it. There was no turning back, if her family found out about this she would be humiliated (yet again). She couldn’t just say that at her age she had fallen so low. She had to cover it up, there was no other way. But what if they found out anyway? No, she couldn’t allow such a thing.

Breathe.

"Are you okay?" The voice of her coworker made her jump and almost drop her phone. She locked the screen and turned to look at him. He seemed confused at her reaction, but she simply fixed her hair as if it was any other Monday and what she was doing was perfectly normal.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." He pointed out. That was Spencer Reid, always kind, always honest. His brown hair was a curly mess and his brown eyes stared at her intently as he fixed his navy tie, he was wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress pants, definitely not the attire she imagined ever seeing from the sweater-loving resident genius at the BAU, however, she resisted the urge to comment, instead focusing on the issue at hand.

"Thank you, what all girl wants to hear." She debated whether it was worth telling him or not. While she and the other Doctor on the team weren’t necessarily good friends, being held hostage together and taking a beating to prevent him from being killed creates a certain bond between people, so she decided to attempt and share her situation. “I was trying to... Ugh, this is so embarrassing." She placed her head in her hands, lamenting every second of her miserable life.

"I don't know, maybe if you tell me it'll be less embarrassing?" He asked.

He was trying to be helpful; she knew he was, and she appreciated that more than anything, but it was hard to share how low she had fallen despite her age and position. She knew if someone would listen and not make fun of her it would be the man sitting at the desk across from hers, but she just couldn’t phantom saying it out loud. Then again, he was a genius, and he was not known for his successful love life, so maybe, just maybe he would understand the situation better?

"I accidentally told my annoying cousin that I was dating someone and now I have to bring my boyfriend to her stupid wedding."

"So? How is that embarrassing?"

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Why did you say you did? How do you accidentally tell someone you have a boyfriend when you don't?" She knew he wasn't making fun of her, that he was genuinely perplexed, but that knowledge didn't help subside her irritation.

"I only said it because she kept ranting about how I was gonna die alone and she was better than me..." She looked at him, his brow raised. "Okay, maybe she didn't say it exactly like that, but the intention was clear!" She cleared hair out of her face and continued, "Anyway, because I clearly do not have a significant other, I thought that if I hired someone to be my boyfriend during the wedding, it might be less painful?"

"You decided that the best way to solve your problem, of lying to your annoying cousin about your love life was hiring a fake boyfriend?" She looked at him, and a small smile played on his lips. "How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't! But I'm out of options here and I don't know what to do!" Her leg started bouncing as she bit her lip. "The wedding is this weekend, and I will die before I admit I lied to bitchy Anna!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Spencer Reid, you have no idea how far I'll go to shut bitchy Anna up!"

"Who's bitchy Anna?" Another voice said as Emily Prentiss, a tall woman with clear skin and dark short hair made her way to them. She was wearing a white dress shirt with a matching black blazer and dress pants, her small heels making a click-clack noise as she walked. If only she could have the confidence and stamina of Emily Prentiss, she would not be in this mess. Though she couldn’t daydream of being the woman in front of them too much after hearing Spencer’s words.

"Her cousin to whom she lied about dating someone. Consequently forcing her to now look for a fake boyfriend for hire." Spencer spoke as if nothing was weird about the whole situation.

"Why don't you just take Reid? It's not like he has plans, right?" She suggested as an amused smile played on her lips.

She didn't even have time to be mad at the man for spilling out her most embarrassing secret like it was nothing, because Emily's words made her perk up. She turned to him and he quickly shook his head.

"No, there is no way. I hate weddings, and parties in general."

"You owe me!" She argued.

"What? I don't owe you anything!" He defended himself.

"Of course you do, you told Emily something I confided in you!"

"You didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to say anything!"

"Spencer, please, I will do anything you want in order to make bitchy Anna eat her words." She placed her most convincing puppy face and looked at him. This face never failed, on anybody. She had mastered the art at age five and from then on the only thing it couldn’t get her was a normal family. Actually, scratch that, it never really worked after she became ten and Anna had also mastered it, but she was hoping this would be an exception.

"No."

Well, she had already embarrassed herself enough, so what was more begging in the great scheme of things?

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me! I'm just asking you to pretend to be in love with me for one day."

"Be careful, that's how a lot of love stories begin," Prentiss said teasingly as she winked at the pair.

"Come on, I will give you money, I will drive you to work for a month. Whatever you want, it's yours." She said, "and Prentiss, this is the real world, not some cheesy love story. Spencer and I are much too mature for those silly things."

"No, I'm mature enough to know better. You just offered anything I want on a silver platter so I can pretend to be your boyfriend at your cousin's wedding. Let that sink in for a minute." He said as his smile grew wider, an idea clearly appearing in his mind. "Let me see, how about, a whole year of rides to work and coffee, for 24 hours of being the fake love of my life."

"Deal." She stretched her hand to shake on it and he looked at her, slightly offended. "Sorry, I forgot. I will make sure to wash my hands more times than necessary and wear gloves all week because you do have to hold my hand during the wedding, couples do that."

"Real couples do that, and it's not very hygienic."

"Well, for Saturday we will be a fake real couple, so let that sink in for a minute." She said as she triumphantly left the scene. She was making her way to the elevator, until she remembered she couldn’t really leave as she had arrived only thirty minutes ago, and her shift was not over until five. She fixed her hair and walked back to her desk as if she hadn’t just embarrassed herself in front of two of her coworkers and continued her paperwork. She heard a laugh from Emily’s desk and didn’t even bother to look up. She had figured out her plan and now she just hoped it would not explode in her face, so a few laughs from her coworker were worth the trouble.

Truth be told, there was a much bigger reason she needed to have someone at the wedding, but Spencer and Emily didn't need to know that. They didn’t need to know why she was willing to feed Spencer Reid’s addiction to coffee and his hate for driving for a whole year rather than tell her cousin she was still single.

Before she knew it, the weekend had arrived and she was in her car, a two-door gray Scion she had very proudly named Matthew when she bought him last June, and she made her way to Spencer's complex. She waited for him in her car after letting him know she was outside. She took the time to look at her now straight hair and her barely visible make-up. She knew blue was Anna’s favorite color, as it was also hers, so she made sure to wear a turquoise dress for her wedding, this was going to be a productive night, for sure.

"Hello, darling." He said as he buckled his seat belt. He was wearing a black suit with a tie that matched her dress, provided by her. His hair was lazily pushed back, giving his fluffy curls volume. She wondered what it would be like to touch it? Spencer would never allow it; he loved his hair way too much.

"We are gonna have the time of our lives, babe." She winked at him and began driving to the venue.

Of course, Anna would use the same venue she had been wishing for her wedding because it wouldn't be Anna if she couldn't have absolutely everything she ever wanted and more. The woman didn't know how long ago this passive-aggressive feud between the two had begun but she'd be damned if she let her cousin beat her at it. She pulled Spencer by the arm gently as she made her way to their table, which was front and center, granting her cousin the ability to see who she had brought along.

"If it isn't my favorite cousin!" She exclaimed. The girl fought the urge to roll her eyes. "And who might this be?"

"Anna, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. Babe, this is my cousin, Anna."

"Anna, newly Hemingway." She emphasized her last name. As she reached to stretch his hand, but he simply waved. "Pleasure." She said as she retracted her hand and looked him up and down. It was only natural for her to do such a thing. "So cousin, have you heard that the family retreat has a date?" She exclaimed with excitement. "It's in about two weeks. You two obviously coming, right?"

"We actually have a retreat, with our team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit." She said, already looking for a way out, Spencer nodded in agreement.

“What a shame,” Her cousin said with faked empathy. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened two years ago, does it?”

She was out of words, of course she would bring it up. Because of that incident she had convinced her mother to not force her to go last year and it was definitely the reason she was not going this year either, but the fact that Anna knew that got to her. She was ready to go home and cry of embarrassment once again. She had done it. Anna had won with one single question.

“Actually, I didn’t want to say anything hon, because it was a surprise,” Spencer spoke for the first time. “Aaron Hotchner, our boss, said that if I could memorize the whole itinerary, which I obviously can thanks to my eidetic memory and IQ of 187, that I could simply share the notes with you and we can take the weekend off since we are his favorites anyway. I was planning on a much more romantic evening than some family retreat but if your cousin is so determined to have us go, we shall be there.” He smiled at the bride, his amusement not so subtle at her reaction.

“You found a keeper,” Anna said, moving some blonde strands of hair from her face. “Anyway, I have to say hello to some guests, but I will see you two lovebirds later.” Her white dress got caught under her heel making her cousin almost fall, but this last one continued as if nothing happened.

"Thank you." She said as she squeezed his hand gently, realizing they were still linked. A whole thirty minutes, that had to be a record for him.

"Don’t thank me, now I understand why you call her bitchy Anna.” They both chuckled at the comment.

“I will call the day of the retreat and say you came down with the flu or something.” She assured him.

“No, I am definitely coming.”

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"Because," He began, "in the time I've known you I've never seen you let anyone walk over you, or make you feel less. Remember when we met?" She chuckled at the thought. "I didn't appreciate the public embarrassment, but I gained a lot of respect for you. It was hard watching you let her talk to you like that and make you feel less. You are not less." He assured her as he looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "You are an amazing agent and friend. I bet you're a great daughter and a reliable family member. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. If it wasn't for you, we would have never survived that day, I will never forget that. So, I will go with you, and I will be the best boyfriend your family has ever seen, and bitchy Anna can suck it."

She laughed at his comment and he joined. Boy, was she glad Spencer was here with her. Even if they had never been the closest of friends, she valued his opinion, and she was glad it was such a positive one. She wished this was the beginning of an actual friendship between the two.

"Honey!" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts, as she approached them

"Oh no." She mumbled, confusing Spencer. "Babe, get ready. You're about to meet my mom." She apologized with her eyes and turned to the bubbly woman that approached them. "Hello, mother." She said as the dark-haired woman with tan skin and stiletto heels that should be illegal reached her, giving her a tight hug. Her red dress matched the infernal shoes and a necklace of pearls adorned her neck.

"Who might this handsome fella be?"

"Mom, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mother." Before he could say anything she was already squishing his cheeks followed by the woman planting a kiss on each side of his face. "You are handsome, I bet my grandchildren will be gorgeous!"

"Mom!" She exclaimed embarrassed.

"What? Don't tell me you're not planning on marrying this hunk? He's a keeper, I can tell."

"You also said that about Tyler." She regretted the comment instantly, the reason being that she didn't need anybody else to know of that embarrassing story.

"Yeah well, aren't you glad you aren't with him anymore?" She said as if public humiliation was something to appreciate. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Two years."

"A year." She responded as she heard Spencer answer at the same time. "He means that he's liked me for two years, but we only went on our first date a year ago, a year after my breakup with Tyler."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Oh, well. I always thought you would be Mrs. Tyler Hemingway, but Mrs. Spencer Reid sounds so much better!"

"It's doctor." They both corrected.

"Even better!" After that, she walked off without saying another word.

"That's your fake mother-in-law dude... She's something else." She sighed with relief at her mother's easily distracted personality.

"Did she say, Hemingway? As in-"

"Yes, as in my cousin's new husband." She cut him off. "The same one that two years ago told me in front of most of my family that he was in love with my cousin and left me heartbroken and humiliated. That same Tyler Hemingway."

"I'm sorry."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" She heard his voice call her and she immediately tensed, Spencer noticed this and moved towards her.

"I am also sorry for what I am about to do, but it will make sense soon." He said as he let go of her hand and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her for a kiss as her ex-boyfriend now turned cousin-in-law watched, perplexed.

When someone describes a fake kiss, it is usually romantic. First comes the surprise, and then immediate compliance, but she was so confused Spencer had to basically squish her cheeks to make her close her eyes and for her to realize what he was doing. She followed suit and kissed him back, still unable to form a coherent thought. It was not like Spencer Reid was a bad kisser, if she had to rate it, it would have been the best kisser she had ever encountered, but the situation that had created such a kiss did not provide for her enjoyment. Not that she wanted to enjoy it, this was her coworker turned accomplice and hopefully actual friend, not someone she was necessarily attracted to, even though she could admit that he was a handsome man. That was not something weird, even Jennifer Jareau, JJ, their friend, and coworker had said it once or twice. You can admit someone is handsome or beautiful without being attracted, everybody knew that.

The cough coming from Tyler Hemingway made Spencer let go of her, as soon as he did he winked at her and moved a strand of hair behind her ear, subtly stabilizing her and covering her shocked face until it dissipated.

“I thought you weren’t one for PDA,” The groom asked. His black tuxedo and white dress shirt made him look handsome, his black hair was pulled back and his blue eyes observed them intently.

“PDA?”

“Public Demonstration of Affection.” She clarified. “Tyler, have you seen this man next to me? How could I not want to kiss him every minute of the day.”

“And this woman has me craving for her touch.”

“Lovely.” The man responded with anything but love for them. “I just wanted to say hi and apologize, I hope you did not mind the venue Anna chose.”

“Me? Why would I mind?” She laughed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She felt Spencer’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, even though she hadn't noticed he moved. His head rested on her shoulder, leaving small kisses on her cheeks. Who was this man and what did he do with Spencer Reid?

“I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but when she and I get married it would have to be a much larger venue, with a different layout. I mean, this venue is cute, but this beautiful woman could outshine it just in pajamas.” He smiled at the man and turned his attention to her. “I keep telling you love: stop thinking small, you are a queen among peasants and deserve nothing but the best. Anyone who can’t see the level of woman you are is simply an idiot.”

This was the moment she was ready to marry Spencer Reid and never let him go, just for the satisfaction of seeing Tyler’s face at his comment. She would forever be grateful to Emily Prentiss for suggesting she ask him.

[serendipitywrites]

Deceptions and Daisies (4)(m)

words 4.5k this chapter is pure smut and angst 🤡 (p.s. sorry this took so long, life has been crazy lately and I had some writers block I had to work through. Anyways, hope you enjoy!)

chapters (one, two, three )

After that last ‘fight’ you and Wooyoung had, you’ve been spending a lot of time with San. 

he’s been stopping by after classes just to say hi, or even bringing your favorite snacks, since he, unfortunately, knows that you tend to forget to eat when you’re stressed. Sometimes he doesn’t really need a reason, he just likes to just relax with you, talking about everything and yet nothing.

He’s come to learn a lot about you in the past few weeks and you’re always amazed at how well he can read you and your emotions. You’ve been feeling so bare and open around him, and surprisingly it’s been a welcoming feeling, it’s been nice to just be… well, yourself again. It might be too soon, but he feels like one of your closest friends already. Honestly, San has even been around more than Wooyoung lately.

Your boyfriend would often visit his ‘ex’ and ‘just a dance friend’ then rather see you, it felt like.

although, after you had confronted Wooyoung, you feel like he has been putting in at least a little more effort for you both. It may seem pathetic to some, but you weren’t ready to give up, not after eight months of being happy and loving him. You admit you were feeling close to giving up, but after talking things over for hours and hours, you decided to give him another chance. Obviously, not everything was perfect and you weren’t expecting that, but the ups and downs are always what made you both stronger together, at least you feel that way.

‘Woo.. you’re so different lately. Are you really here with me? even when we’re together lately, I just feel so… alone’ insecurity laces your voice.

He sits across from you on the couch, letting your words sink in.

He looks at you and instead of denying it this time, he just puts his head in his hands and exhales.

He looks up after a few seconds, looking uneased. 

‘I don’t feel like myself lately.. and I guess I was just hoping you didn’t notice’ he confesses.

‘Really? because It’s all I notice. I thought we didn’t keep things from each other, Woo’ you say surprised, mumbling the last words softly. 

And for the first time in a while, he isn’t looking defensive over your honesty.

‘y/n, I haven’t been.. completely honest with you.’ he sounds anxious and you stare at him nervously, waiting.

‘I’ve been seeing Hana after work sometimes.. when I don’t come here’ he sounds ashamed, and in your current state of mind, he should be ashamed. You didn’t fall in love with this Wooyoung, the one who lies.

‘Why? Why are you seeing her, Woo? No more lies or we’re done, I swear. I can’t keep doing this’ you try your best to sound confident and not let your hurt show.

He looks at you with guilt and swallows hard ‘I swear we aren’t doing anything, not like that. We’ve just been talking and I’m helping her to dance’ he says like he hopes to convince you.

‘Then why? And why do you look so guilty?’ you implore.

‘...She said she still loves me’ he confesses.

Your heart sinks. You weren’t an idiot, you could tell there was something deeper left between them, but it still really fucking hurts.

‘And do you love her?’ you ask weakly. 

‘I love you’ he replies quickly and with certainty. 

‘That’s not what I asked, woo’ you feel your eyes start to water and you try desperately to keep him from noticing.

He stares at you so softly yet cautiously ‘y/n, listen to me. What I had with her.. It wasn’t ever really as genuine as I thought at the time. If I’m honest, I think we only got together because she was lonely. Besides that, she is my past and you are my now. I want this, I want you, and I want us.. For a long time, if you’ll still have me’ he meets your eyes.

Your chest is aching. 

even if his words are reassuring, you know you can’t just keep forgiving him so easily.

‘I want us too, but I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt anymore when you are with her more than me. I’m not dumb, Woo. I knew you were with her and I just... I can’t. This isn’t me, i’m not some cliche jealous girlfriend’ you trail off in a frustrated tone, feeling some tears drop from your eyes and meeting your cheeks. This isn’t how the talk was supposed to go, but is anything ever easy lately?

He pulls you into his arms and rests his head in the crook of your neck. ‘Just one more chance, I’ll do better. I’ll be the boyfriend you deserve. I’ll be good for you.’ you feel yourself tremble in his hold. his voice heavy with emotion, he breathes hotly onto your neck and presses a wet and gentle kiss against you ‘I love you, y/n’ you sigh and try to hide a slight sniffle ‘I love you too.. Please don’t make me regret this’ 

San tosses a french fry in your direction, it pulling you from your thoughts.

He sits at the edge of your bed with a small fast food bag, staring at you expectedly.

You can tell he just got out of class by the way his hair is slicked back and his cheeks are still a bit flushed. He's dressed in a loose tank top, which must be some of his workout clothes. He must have come by straight after teaching and that thought makes you all tender for some reason. It’s just that you know that San likes to go straight home after work or school, but instead, he went and got you some food and chose to spend time with you. It may seem little, but it means a lot to you. It’s your day off from work and even if you told him to just head home and relax, having him here feels really nice. You’ve spent the day in your pajama shorts and a baggy shirt and if it was any other friend then you’d feel nervous and under-dressed, but you know that San doesn’t care.

‘If you don’t eat your fries, then I will’ he shoves some fries in his mouth messily, being an absolute goof.

You toss the fry back at him and it hits his chest, he looks at you offended. ‘Shush. Now where’s our ketchup?’ you tease him and he smiles, his dimple showing.

He tosses you the bag softly. ‘Yes, princess, and I got your extra ketchup too. You know, I get some weird looks for taking over 25 ketchup packets, so you owe me.’ 

You scoot towards him and hug his back ‘you’re the best, Sannie, you know that?’ you say in a sing-songy voice. You suddenly feel your breasts rub against his back through your thin shirt and you stiffen, feeling embarrassed. You’re just hoping that he didn’t notice. (He’s just thankful you can’t see the blush on his face) He nudges you off of him and you fall back gently on your pillow ‘I mean something I actually want’ 

you poke his back with your socked foot in offense ‘Hey! I give good hugs. you’re sweaty anyways, so fine, whatever’ he laughs at your sassy behavior. ‘Come sit with me?’ you pat the pillow next to you, he obliges. 

he rests his head against your headboard and shuffles a bit to get comfortable.

'so..' he tilts his head at you 'is Wooyoung coming over later?' 

you nod a bit shyly 'yeah, he has tomorrow off so he's going to spend the night.' you smile, getting excited to spend some time with your boyfriend. 

He gives you a small smile of acceptance ‘so things are back to normal?’

You shrug ‘I mean.. no? But he’s trying, we’re trying. He hasn’t been seeing… her as much’ you mumble carefully, not wanting to say her name. He understands, he doesn’t like her either. 

‘She hasn’t been around the studio either. Maybe Woo finally stopped being an idiot.’

You chuckle ‘that idiot is my boyfriend, but yes, he’s an idiot, my idiot’

You both finish snacking and put on some anime on your laptop, watching it together on your bed. You’re both resting against your headboard when Sans phone goes off. He says to ignore it but then his phone keeps buzzing over and over, he sighs, looking irritated, he runs his hand through his blonde hair ‘I’ll be a minute’ he says sounding agitated and heads out of the room. You figure it must be important, so you pause the anime and wait for him. 

After a few minutes, you get bored and grab your phone. You notice a few messages from Wooyoung.

Woo ♥ Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart

Woo ♥ Just a couple more hours ♥

Woo ♥ Want me to bring any food or snacks?

You see that his last message was about ten minutes ago and you decide to reply

sent Just bring yourself ♥ I just got some food, but thank you~! San brought me a burger and fries 🥳!

You get a response pretty quickly after sending that, surprisingly.

Woo ♥ Why is San there? Tonight is supposed to be our night.

Is he actually jealous right now? You aren’t sure what is going through his head so you send him another message

Sent Because he’s my friend? and he wanted to see me. We’re hanging out before you come over then he’s heading home, not that it even matters.

You send back, feeling slightly irritated. 

Woo ♥

I just wanted you all to myself tonight, sweetheart. I can’t wait. Besides San has a date tonight, I'm sure he’ll be leaving soon. 

You read his message over again, feeling taken aback a bit.

Before you have time to reply to Wooyoung, San makes it back in the room. He puts his phone on your dresser and relaxes against your pillow, he exhales tiredly.

Does he really have a date tonight? And why wouldn’t he tell you? 

‘Everything okay?’ you ask him softly.

‘Yeah.. Yeosang just keeps trying to set me up on these blind dates and he doesn’t take no for an answer.’ he sighs. 

‘I take it you got roped into one?’ you chuckle, feeling a weird sense of relief that he chose to share this with you. 

‘This would be the third actually, He keeps picking his sisters friends and it’s already so awkward when we see him and his sister at parties, I guess she doesn’t take me not wanting to date her friends so easily.’ he looks tired. 

You pat his head gently ‘i’m sure when the right person comes along, you’ll know’

He’s laying on your pillow while you have your back rested against the wall, your laptop sits in between you two. 

He meets your eyes ‘I think so too’ he smiles, so damn sweetly. God, that dimple makes you so soft and you swear that he knows. 

You both settle and watch some more anime, after a few episodes, he decides to head home, looking tired from his long day. 

‘Be safe?’ you’re at your door telling him goodbye.

‘Always, princess’ he bows all cheesily. 

You punch at his arm for teasing you and he catches your hand. ‘Too slow’ he laughs.

‘Once I get better reflexes, you’re done for’ you respond with far too much sass. 

He’s still holding onto your hand when he pulls you in for a hug. The position you’re hugging him in has your arms wrapped around his neck rather than his waist. His arms wrap loosely around your waist.

Somehow, this hug feels… different

Your heart starts to beat faster. Of course, you don’t let yourself think too much into it, you can’t. Besides, this is San, one of Wooyoungs best friends. 

He pulls you closer and your face rests against his shoulder.

‘I’m here if you need me. I’ll stop by again soon’ 

You both pull away from the hug tenderly.

‘Same, but I think you need might need me more, you know, to rescue you from your dates’ you offer and he gives a small laugh. 

‘I’ll remember that’ he waves with a grin and heads out, the door clicking behind him. 

You’re really glad he came over today.

After waving him off you head to the bathroom to take a shower before Wooyoung heads over, which should be in about an hour.  The shower is calming yet exciting. Just knowing that you’re about to see your boyfriend has you so energetic. 

After getting out, you put on some vanilla lotion (knowing that it was Wooyoungs favorite) and blow-dry your hair, you dab on some light lip gloss to finish it off.  You decided to put on a sheer baggy sweater with a tank top underneath, knowing that you look cute. You kept your sleep shorts on, though. they are your favorite after all. 

You pick up your apartment a little before he heads over, and of course feed your fish baby, Clem.  Sometime after you finish cleaning you hear a knock on your front door and your heart jumps. Excited but anxious to see your boyfriend.

You pull open the door to see a tired and sweaty looking Wooyoung in front of you, in his hands he holds a small bag and a single red rose.  You already feel yourself grinning at his antics.

‘Really? Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Jung?’

He smirks ‘depends, is it working?’

You pull him into your apartment and plant an aggressive kiss on his lips. 

After pulling away, his lips try to chase yours again immediately.

‘So impatient already’ you tease.

‘It’s been 3 days, baby. I’m past impatient at this point.’ he whines and puts his bag down.

He hands you the rose and you blush a little bit.  ‘Thanks..’ you mutter feeling slightly shy and he just softly kisses your forehead.

He heads towards the couch and pulls you with him. You end up sitting in between his legs as he lays on the couch. His black fluffy hair is parted so you can see his eyes.

‘You’re so pretty, sweetheart.’ he says with affection and you turn your head, feeling shy under his gaze. He notices and you being shy and pulls you down on his lap for a kiss.

You’re truly in awe of this man and god.. you’ve missed this so much. Just the both of you, no drama, no lies, no Hana, just the both of you being with one another.

With you on his lap and kissing him he eventually starts to slowly grind into you, his bulge already thick and hot. You realize soon after that he isn’t wearing anything under his loose joggers.

‘Really, Woo? Nothing under here?’ you ask in surprise and reach your hands down to where the outline of his briefs would be and he just smirks at you and grips your hips.

‘I missed you, sweetheart..’ and you let yourself fall into him, getting lost in lust and feeling some wetness drip out of you.

He puts his hands under your shorts and massages the swell of your ass with his fingers. You shiver at his touch, whining in his hold ‘really? Already?’ not expecting sex this soon.

‘Really’ he replies, voice thick with arousal. Suddenly he moves one of his hands lower and cups you through your panties, feeling the hotness of your cunt radiate. You moan needily and he slips a few fingers inside your panties, running his fingers through your obscene amount of wetness. It takes him far too long to slip the first finger inside of you and when he does, you absolutely crumble against him. You feel yourself soaking his hand and you couldn’t care less. He has two fingers curling against your insides and you want nothing more than to sit on this mans thick dick and have a mind-blowing orgasm. 

Of course, he doesn’t let you cum yet, he just teases you until you’re about to scream in frustration. So, you find yourself reaching for his pants with a whine, trying desperately to get them off of him and you hear him chuckle at you. ‘Shut up.. Need you..’ you say deprived.

After a few more minutes of kissing and him having you at the precipice of an orgasm, he has enough and tugs your shorts off aggressively and with zero care where they end up.

He pulls your sweater off and you practically rip his shirt off of him.

‘Please?’ you whimper, him under you, watching you already fall apart for him.

He lowers his joggers just enough for you to get to his dick, moving quickly. You can tell he’s eager to get inside of you. 

‘Shit’ he says breathily when his dick rubs against the slit of your wet and puffy cunt. 

‘Condom?’ he asks gruffly and it surprises you. You and Wooyoung don’t use condoms… You haven’t since you both got tested, two months into your relationship. Also, you’ve always been on birth control, but you’re far too drunk with lust to think properly or question him so instead of replying you just grab his dick and angle it towards your entrance and drop down on him.

The moan he lets out reverberates through your apartment. He fills you up so perfectly. His thickness stretches you out and before dropping down on him again, you bring your fingers down to where you are both connected and whimper at the feeling. He must get be getting impatient, because he grips your hips hard enough to bruise and thrusts up into you, fully sheathing himself inside of you.

Sweat drips from his forehead as he starts to fuck you harder, and after a few minutes he gets impatient and you get on your knees for him, anxious for him to get back inside of you, your wetness dripping down your thighs. You both sigh in relief when he finally gets back in.

He’s pounding you from behind and you feel his fingertips already bruising your hips, but you honestly love it. The way his cock drags against your insides has you nearly in tears and you whine, pushing back on his cock. He catches your hips mid-thrust and helps guide you back onto him even harder. The meat of his thighs slaps against your ass so deliciously.

He’s grunting behind you, holding onto you possessively ‘yeah? Like my cock, sweetheart?’ he asks huskily. You trail off in response, sounding a pitiful mess, almost in tears ‘yes, the best’ tears fall from your eyes and you can tell from behind you that he’s getting close already. ‘No one can make you feel this good?’ he asks again, his tone dominant and intense, his voice deep. ‘Just you..’ he knows how easily he can make you fall apart. you grip your hands harder onto the couch and you’re having a hard time thinking straight with him fucking you so hard, just then he reaches his hand towards your front and starts to rub circles onto your clit. You are delirious at this point. He knows that you’re close and spreads your legs further, giving him room to abuse your puffy clit. Your peak is coming and you can’t form words at this point ‘only I can make you feel this good’ he whispers in your ear with certainty and determination. You’re not exactly in the right state of mind to wonder why he’s being so dominant, with your orgasm at arms reach. You’re whining and writhing under him, and with a slight pinch to your clit you find yourself cumming on his cock. You practically scream form the strength of it and he moans loudly behind you, fucking into you ruthlessly, his sweat dripping on your back. Just when you think he’s about to cum, he pulls out of you and finishes outside of you. Moaning loudly, he milks himself onto your ass. You feel cold all of a sudden. 

Why did he pull out? He is obviously oblivious, basking in his afterglow.  But you’re laying there confused.

‘Thanks, baby.. I needed that.’ he grabs some tissues to clean you up and softly flips you on your back on the couch. You see him all flushed and red from fucking you, his hair curled slightly from sweating. ‘...I did too. You didn’t come inside, though’ you say with a pout, feeling almost silly. He smiles at you ‘was my little slut wanting to be filled up?’ you turn to your side and he senses your mood slightly shifting, he comes to sit next to you on the couch. You’re still laying there mostly naked with his cum still dripping down your thighs. ‘I wasn’t even really thinking. I just know it can get messy’ you turn to him ‘well, don’t do that.’ he chuckles at you. ‘Never again, my love.’ after that, you both take a shower together, he rubs your back and kisses at the back of your neck, which has you giggling and pulling away. Being ticklish isn’t exactly romantic, you feel like.

He stays in the bathroom a bit longer and you decide to get your laptop and put on something for you both. 

You hear a buzzing coming from the living room, realizing it’s Wooyoungs phone. With things being more at ease now, you feel comfortable grabbing his phone and heading to the bathroom door to knock ‘Woo, your phone is going off. Is your hair dry yet?’

After you say that it buzzes again and by accident you see who it’s from, only seeing a snippet of a couple of messages. 

Hana Are you done yet?

Hana I miss you.

The last message is what shocks you the most.

Hana Why won’t you just tell her already??

You drop his phone loudly as he opens the bathroom door, some steam coming out.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ he sees you looking pale-faced and stunned. He looks worried.

Ha, worried? You thought.

‘I saw your messages’ You say bluntly. You’ve had enough with being timid and calm about this. You’re done.

He suddenly looks nervous ‘my messages?’ he asks, looking confused.

‘Yes, your messages. Now get the fuck out of my apartment’ you say with conviction.

He just stares at you, his jaw slightly dropped.

‘I don’t think you read what you think you did’ he says calmly.

You scoff at him, looking at him like he thinks you’re some sort of idiot ‘really? Because according to Hana you have something to tell me, what might that be?’

‘Look, y/n, we need to talk but -’

You cut him off in frustration ‘I can’t with these lies. I fucking can’t anymore’ you break off and feel some tears of frustration fall out of your face, which you try hiding from him. ‘did you really come by just to fuck me and then leave me?’

he looks baffled ‘what are you talking about y/n?’ 

a few seconds pass and he decides to try again.

‘Can we please sit down and talk?’ he asks exasperatedly.

‘Why? So you can tell me that we’re over, or that you did in fact cheat on me?’ ‘I trusted you, I really did. You knew what I went through.’

Instead of responding he just stares at you sadly. He has the audacity to look guilty, to look upset at this.

‘Please leave.. Please. I can’t do this, not tonight, not any more’ 

‘y/n, please listen to me, just hear me out-’ he tries to explain, at least you think he’s trying to explain, but you can’t bear to even hear his voice right now.

‘Please! Please leave!’ you wail.

‘I can’t leave you like this, I can’t.’ he says desperately, trying to reason with you. His body trying to inch closer to you and you pull back quickly, not wanting to be touched by him.

You let out a wet laugh 

‘Sure you can, you’ve done it before.’ you know it was a low blow, but you honestly don’t fucking care how he feels right now.

‘Leave. I’m calling San.’ he scoffs at you, looking far too pissed off, something changes in his aura at the mention of his friend. ‘what a fucking surprise. The moment I leave, you call San, just like clockwork. You know for getting mad at me for spending time with someone else, you look pretty fucking hypocritical.’ he seethes.

Before you can even think it over, your hand meets his cheek. He stares at you in complete shock. ‘I would never do anything to betray you, Wooyoung. I love you so fucking much it drives me insane. I let you in, I never do that. I would never stoop that low. oh, and San? Your best friend? He’s a good person, and fuck you for thinking that he would do something so malicious’ you say then fall onto the floor and break into a sob. Barely able to breathe. this snaps Wooyoung out of his sudden anger and again, he tries to come comfort you and you just beg him to leave. Regretfully, he gives up and leaves, knowing that he can’t do anything to help you, not now. he did this to you, and as much as he wants to comfort you, he doesn’t deserve to. he tells you how much he loves you and how fucking sorry he is before he leaves in shame and remorse. You need time, he’ll try to give that to you. in the meantime, you’re left on the floor, in an absolute mess, having trouble breathing from the strength of your cries. 

After catching your breath finally muster some energy to call San, trying to calm down enough to talk.

He answers after a few rings ‘Hey you, I was just thinking of you, I saw the weirdest goldfish at the -’ 

He stops talking when he realizes that you aren’t responding and he just hears harsh breathing on the other line.

‘You okay, princess?’ you just sob in response and that was all that he needed. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just breathe. Can you unlock the door for me? That’s all you need to do.’ he says gently. ‘Unlocked already’ you sniffle.

‘Just ten minutes.’ and he hangs up after a minute, promising to hurry.

There was some slight traffic, so San ends up getting there about 20 minutes later. The sight he finds upon entering the apartment is you on the floor, at the edge of your bed, curled into a circle with a bra and your sleeping shorts on, hickeys covering your neck and chest.

He doesn’t even need to ask to know that whatever happened was Wooyoungs fault.

He carries you as softly as possible to your bed, doing his best not to wake you since he knew whatever happened - you’d need the energy later to deal with it.

All he knew, was that he was about to break his friend’s nose.

[withkun]

visage | j. jaehyun

genre: enemies to lovers... kinda? with some fluff and smut :) word count: 5.2k  pairing: reader x jaehyun warnings: graphic hetersexual sex (oral, penetration, etc), swearing, excessive world building summary: Your first day of work at your first real job began terribly. You hadn’t got enough sleep, you could barely eat your breakfast, and you managed to get lost on the way. Soon, you discover you’re working alongside serial charmer Jaehyun Jung and that he will stop at nothing to be the best. 

a/n: this is a mess im sorry lmao. i somehow managed to use jaehyun 86 times in here ... girl...

You felt completely, utterly, and hopelessly lost – all on the first day of your first real job. That morning, you awoke two hours earlier than you had to. If you had a choice, you would’ve face planted into your pillow and died right there. However, your anxiety decided against it. And with that extra time, you managed to pull off an extended morning routine. A warm, long shower. Ten-step skincare routine. Eggs, toast, and black tea. Despite your attempts to regain your confidence, all was lost as you circled the office building.

           The orientation guide you received hadn’t helped much. All you knew was that you should report to building B. Whichever building that may have been, you had no idea. Your feet grew weary and you cursed yourself for wearing heels. You rounded the corner of the office park for your fourth or fifth lap, only to be cut off by an overdressed jackass. Before you could sidestep him and continue your hopeless journey, the perpetrator turned to face you.

           “Oh, no. He’s hot,” you thought to yourself, praying your cheeks weren’t stained red. Despite wearing a well-tailored gray suit, you realized that he was likely your same age. He took in your slightly disheveled appearance, probably noting your ruffled hair and askew skirt.

           He tilted his head in the direction of the closest building. “Are you here for orientation, too?”

           Of course he had to be in your hiring class. Twenty-two and already looking like he owned the building. You nodded, then turned on your heel to rush inside. Trailing your steps, you heard him chuckle lowly.

           You finally joined the rest of the new hires in the security lobby, managing to fix your appearance before you reached the door. To your gratitude, they dressed similarly to you. Just plain business casual. The boy you met earlier definitely stood out, making the others wonder if they hadn’t dressed well enough.

           Within ten minutes, you all received security badges and shuffled into your orientation room. You preferred the back, whereas the business boy sat directly in the front. Rolling your eyes, you realized his game. You met plenty of people like him in college, ruthless climbers that destroyed everything in their paths. He knew he had to make more than an entrance, he had to make an impression.

           You grew to dislike him more and more as your training sessions progressed over the course of two weeks. An insufferable know it all, answering all the questions managers prompted. Volunteering for everything first, unafraid. You on the other hand, did not find his actions necessary. He left a glowing impression, yes, but you found it meaningless. Like hell the trainers cared about how well you completed your general training. Maybe he wanted everyone to relate this to his future performance, for you to watch out for his dominance. For you to fear him. Worst of all, he saw you struggle with the most simplistic task on your first day.

           He easily made friends within the group, as there were plenty others like him. All recent college graduates, fantastic resumes, and working for one of the best companies in the field. You, on the other hand, did not have such luck. Your social circle consisted of yourself and another quiet trainee, a quiet finance major named Doyoung. The two of you kept to yourselves and became the outliers of the group, so much to the extent that you sat alone for training sessions.

           Two weeks came and passed, and you finally received your team assignments. You found your name on the bulletin, right next to Jaehyun Jung’s. Of course. It had to be this way.

           Jaehyun approached the bulletin board aside you, and grinned as he found his name. “Looks like we’re working together,” he commented, still wearing the same expression. You realized why he appeared so happy. People like Jaehyun would not recognize someone like you as a threat. You barely appeared on his radar.

           You grit your teeth and forced a smile. “I look forward to it.”

           With your whorish luck, you found that your desks were right next to each other and you’d be essentially working back to back. You already hated being watched, and Jaehyun could easily look over his shoulder and see you struggling to keep up.

           Jaehyun settled into his seat with ease, already look at home in his new desk. You sat gingerly on your office chair, gathering your surroundings.

           Your desks sat right in the view of your department lead’s office, likely to Jaehyun’s excitement.

           Being on the same team, you and Jaehyun had the rest of your training sessions together.  Just you two and your manager. He always seemed to grasp the new concepts immediately while you merely pretended and made notes to ask Doyoung later.

           They assigned your first project sometime later, one that you and Jaehyun would have to complete jointly. You dreaded it, knowing he would try to take over the project.

           That first morning, Jaehyun was already at his desk. You glanced at your watch, nearly scoffing as you read off 6:59. Despite having the ability to make his own schedule, Jaehyun chose to arrive before seven. You collapsed into your desk chair, jealousy eyeing Jaehyun’s full coffee mug. He already had time to help himself to coffee. Typical.

           “Morning,” he greeted, fully awake and energized. “I set up a meeting for 8 today to start working on the project.”

           You powered on your desktop, mentally groaning at the hundreds of emails present in your mailbox. “That’s…fine,” you murmured, praying that you could address all your client emails in a measly hour without the aid of caffeine.

           He glanced behind him to see you hunched over and lifelessly typing. “I’ll make that 9.”

           And yet again, you were caught in a moment of weakness. Great. “Yeah, okay.”

           Those two hours passed slowly, but at least you managed to prepare a cup of tea. By 8:55, Jaehyun already settled into the conference room and wrote diagnostics on the whiteboard. All while you still went through your emails.

           You joined him, a fresh cup of tea in one hand and your laptop in another. “All right, I see that you’ve already set up the basics,” you said monotonously, nodding towards the whiteboard. “I conjured up some of my own ideas as well.” Without prompt, you rose and added a few bullet points under Jaehyun’s “approaches” section. You scanned his ideas, noting that they weren’t bad, but not what you had in mind.

           “I see,” Jaehyun commented, still standing. He put his hands on his hips, carefully mulling over the options. “They’re quite good.”

           You felt ashamed of your satisfaction for his response, but also surprise. He sounded genuine enough, but you knew that his type always had some angle to work. Prodding you board at your second option, you decided, “I think this is our best bet.”

           Jaehyun remained quiet for a moment, eyes flickering across the board. “What if we combined a couple?” he inquired. He pointed to your idea, then his. “It would streamline the process more holistically.”

           “Holistically??” you thought. You hadn’t heard that word since high school English class. It was so painfully pretentious to you.

           He went on to explain how it would work, but you were still caught up on the pure obnoxiousness of the word “holistically.”

           “Y/N,” Jaehyun tried. “Hello?”

           You blinked, finally hearing your name. “Sorry, I was thinking about how this will impact everything.” A lie, Jaehyun didn’t need to know how long you caught yourself on a single word.

           “So, what do you think?” Jaehyun leaned against the wall, eyes searching yours.

           Oh god, now you were thinking about his eyes. Pushing those thoughts aside, you answered, “So long as we put a heavy emphasis on my part, I think it’ll work.”

           He agreed and you went on, mostly working quietly. You avoided asking him questions, even when you became desperate. Jaehyun, meanwhile, tried to engage you in small talk.

           “Where did you go to college?” he asked, to which you gave him a one-word response.

           “Are you from here?”

           “Do you have a boyfriend?”

           “What was your major?”

           You barely answered, but he failed to get the point until he finally inquired to something relevant. “Did I do something that offended you?”

           You drew in a breath, fumbling for the right words. If you were honest with him, you wouldn’t have to put on a façade. If you lied, you wouldn’t get on his bad side. Even pretty boys like him could be ruthless if given the opportunity and reason. You saw it before, you knew you would see it all over again.

           “No,” you decided, pulling on a tight-lipped smile. “I just want to do really well on this.”

           That last part, at least, wasn’t a lie. You felt that you had to prove yourself, especially against the Jaehyuns of the world. If only briefly, you saw his relief. His face relaxed a little, and his shoulders lost some tension. “Me too,” he agreed.

           The following month went on similarly. You completed the project quietly, only interjecting to make corrections and provide your input. When you finally reached the day of your presentation, your nerves caught you once more. You woke up far too early and arrived at the office at the same time as Jaehyun. A new record.

           If he was on edge, you couldn’t tell. Outwardly, he appeared the same. Nothing could take away his quiet glow of confidence. Jaehyun worked, unbothered, sipping his coffee almost casually.

           “Are you ready?”

           Jaehyun turned to face you. “Never been readier.”

           You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if readier is a word.”

           With a shrug and smile, Jaehyun returned to his work again. Odd, considering he was always chatty.

           You attempted to mimic him, to work without doubts and review your notes. But your hands shook as you tried to type. You knew you couldn’t focus until you finished the presentation.

           Although you hadn’t noticed him leave, you saw him approach your desk. Jaehyun gingerly placed a styrofoam cup on your desk. Your eyes met his. “Jaehyun?”

           “Just some tea before the presentation,” he explained. “I noticed you like black tea with honey.”

           You brought the cup to your lips, delighted to find that it was the perfect temperature. For once, you didn’t care about his motive. “Thanks,” you said. And you meant it.

           He gave you wink. “We’ll be great today.”

           You hoped he was right.

           The presentation crept up on you suddenly, much faster than you had anticipated. Jaehyun found you outside the conference room, where you managers and team lead had already gathered, pacing and talking to yourself.

           “Are you okay?”

           He caught you again, there was no use in denying the truth. “Absolutely not.”

           Jaehyun laughed lowly and put a hand on your shoulder. A part of you wanted to shrug it off, but you felt a strange comfort. “I’m nervous, too.”

           You almost burst out laughing. Like hell he was nervous. But his concession, fake or real, made you feel some comfort.

           Having reeled yourself in, you entered the conference room together.

           And together, you made it through the presentation. You both had prepared excessively, ready to answer any question thoroughly. Management applauded your efforts, declaring that you had exceeded expectations. They rewarded you with a gift-card to a nearby steakhouse and urged you to celebrate together. Hastily, you attempted to invite the managers, only to be declined. They had work to complete in the office.

           Your cheeks lit up red with embarrassment, but you agreed to make reservations for that night.

           Jaehyun offered a ride over, to which you vehemently wanted to reject. Before the eyes of your manager, you took him up. You assured yourself that he was still the same person you knew. Nothing different. Nothing could’ve changed that. Seeing his car certainly helped. You never knew any recent college graduates that drove a Tesla, and yet…

           Once you arrived at the restaurant, you quickly ordered yourself a martini. You didn’t care which one, so long as it had plenty of alcohol. Jaehyun simply ordered a beer, quoting driver safety commercials. “Just this,” he promised you, then proposed a toast. “We pulled it off.”

           You drank your martini with gusto, and then prompted the waiter for another one. Jaehyun watched as you became drunk, consistently grinning as began to ramble. “You know I hate you, right?”

           Your question caught him off guard. “You hate me?”

           With a smile, you brought the martini glass to your lips. “You’re too perfect and try too hard.” His expression fell, but you forged on. For months, he made you feel inadequate and beyond anxious. You befuddled mind justified this bluntness. “Every day feels like a goddamn competition.”

           Jaehyun reached across the table, taking your hand. “I had no idea,” he admitted quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

           “It’s whatever. You’re no different from most in our hiring class.”

           With a sigh, Jaehyun took an elongated sip from his beer. “They’re not all bad.”

           Despite the alcohol coursing its way through your system, you realized that a few strands of hair fell out of place. He hunched over, brows furrowed, lost in thought. It wasn’t the first time you saw that either. Just out of your periphery vision, you saw him buried in work while you finished the project. 

           Jaehyun swept his hands through his hair. The way he bit his lip made you wonder if he was holding himself back. And the waiter arrived with your meals before you could muster a response.

           You sat in silence, Jaehyun haphazardly cutting his steak. He refused to look at you.

           As you absentmindedly twirled your pasta onto your fork, Jaehyun finally spoke up. “I’m not perfect, and you’re not easy to work with either.”

           “Excuse me?” You couldn’t conceal your anger at this sentiment.

           Jaehyun met your gaze, eyes determined. “You had to control every part of the project. Had everything your way.”

           That, you had heard before. And you absolutely hated it. “We did well on the project because of me,” you said defensively. “Lest you forget.”

           The two of you went on bickering like this, angrily finishing your meals and drinks. The waiter hesitantly approached your table, and you demanded the check. The sooner you could leave, the better.

           Once paid, you managed to not storm out of the restaurant. But you wore a disgruntled expression and balled your fists.

           You reached your work parking lot, and instantly ejected yourself from the Tesla. It wasn’t until you reached your car, however, that you realized that you didn’t have your keys. Probably left it in the passenger seat.

           Angrily, you stomped back to Jaehyun’s space where he twirled the keys around his index finger. “I’m not letting you drive. You drank too much.”

           You gritted your teeth. “I sobered up plenty.”

           Jaehyun approached you and held a square device in front of him.  “Well, then you can prove it.”

           You yanked the breathalyzer from him, not bothering to ask why he had it. Made sense for someone like him. With a groan, you realized he was right. 0.1.

           Not wanting to admit it, you continued your enraged march to the nearby retention pond where a lone bench sat in front of the water. You crossed your arms, and bitterly stared at the water from there.

           Jaehyun followed you, leaning onto the back of the bench. “I didn’t know this place existed.”

           You laughed bitterly. “It’s because you never leave your desk. You’re always working. Always networking. Always trying something.”

           To your surprise, Jaehyun appeared to calm down from earlier. He regained his flawless demeanor. “It takes me a lot longer to do things.”

           Well that, that took you off guard. “Doing extra work,” you said, making a weak attempt to correct him.

           “No.” After a long pause, he asked, “Do you really hate me?”

           His tone made you feel some guilt. “Don’t you hate me?” you shot back, remembering his comments at the restaurant.

           “I don’t,” he affirmed. “I never have.”

           You considered that. In your college career, you made plenty of enemies with the same behavior. Those times, you ensured yourself, were valid. Those classmates never completed their work and simply didn’t care about the performance. You had been left with ten-page papers to complete on your own. You turned poorly written trash into works professors recommended for publishing. But you knew Jaehyun wasn’t the same as them at least.

           Behind Jaehyun, the sun had just begun to set. The sky lit up with orange and pink hues. “I shouldn’t have taken over the project,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. A part of you hoped he wouldn’t hear.

           “Oh,” Jaehyun said softly.

           You gave him a warning expression. “Do not let that get to your head. You came into this job with an agenda.”

           “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Jaehyun groaned. “Where the hell are you getting these ideas from?”

           You couldn’t bear to look at him, imagining the smug look on his face as he basically told you that you were crazy. “People like you are always ruthlessly ambitious.”

           “And what am I like, then?” Jaehyun mused.

           Without skipping a beat, you explained, “Attractive, charming, overcompensating.”

           You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head, and just knew his smug smile made another appearance. He chuckled and said, “Sounds like you.”

           “Funny,” you mocked. “Last time I checked; I’m only overcompensating less outwardly.”

     ��     He joined you and took a seat on the bench, stretching his arm over the top of the bench. Only inches away from being on your shoulders. Disgusting. “You’re wrong.”

           Without prompt, he suggested a game of twenty questions. Jaehyun clarified his intent, stating that perhaps you misunderstood each other. Sensing your doubt, he held his pinky finger out and searched your eyes. You hesitantly connected your pinkies and brought your thumb to your lips, both promising to be truthful.

           “Do you think I’m good at my job?” you inquired first, eyes cast out to the sparkling pond.

           Almost instantaneously, Jaehyun firmly answered, “Yes.” You concealed your satisfaction, biting your lip to prevent you to smile. “Do you think I’m good at my job?”

           You replied almost as quickly, “Of course I do.”

           The questions got progressively less serious, some among the likes of favorite movies and which books you were currently reading. Somehow, you felt relaxed. Jaehyun didn’t feel like competition, but rather just a normal stupid boy. He let you have another try at the breathalyzer, and you felt relief in the .05 reading before you. At the same time, you wanted to remain beside him.

           “I don’t think I hate you anymore,” you conceded, accepting your words as truth. “If you stop coming off as perfect all the time.

           He let out a laugh, a sweet sound of joy and relief. “Hey, you come off as perfect too. You were just quiet around me.” With a devilish grin, Jaehyun ventured, “Is it because you think I’m attractive?”

           You glared at him from the corner of your eye. “Are you trying so hard because you find me attractive?” you challenged him.

           Jaehyun turned his body to face you. “That depends on whether it’s working.”

           Now games like these you didn't mind as much. A harmless game of chicken, testing your limits. Work had its difficulties, but boys? Easy. You cupped his cheek, amazed at how soft his skin felt to the touch. Your eyes met, beckoning the other to try something. "So, this is why you asked me if I was dating anyone?" you dared. "Under the guise of getting to know me and making small talk. I thought someone as perfect as you would have more...subtlety." You let the last word slip out of your mouth slowly. Registering his surprise, you continued, “I don’t forget things easily, hence why I’ve been able to hate you so long.”

           Jaehyun grinned cockily, placing your hand on his chest. You felt defined muscles straining against his button-down. Already, you figured his body would match the rest of his veneer. “You really have nerve being out here like this,” Jaehyun overserved, gesturing the office park a short walk away.

           “Oh, uncomfortable here?” you drawled playfully, then took his hand. “I know somewhere you may like.”

           You felt a wave of confidence wash over you, and you realized this what you assumed Jaehyun had always felt. Then you decided that you’d make it up to him one way or another. He followed you, only letting your hands detach as you got closer to the infamous “B” building you worked in. You noted his nervousness and gave him a reassuring smile. “Trust me,” you urged.

           Entering through the side door, you managed to avoid security. Your entry would appear on a log, but you could easily bristle over it and say that you forgot your laptop at your desk. Most of your coworkers avoided the stairs, so you led Jaehyun away from the elevator. Though, you had forgotten that you were wearing heels. You struggled up the steps by the second flight, clinging onto the railing for dear life. Jaehyun noted this, but said nothing as he swept you into his arms.

           “I wish you did on the first floor,” you joked. “Or maybe I could’ve just taken them off.”

           Jaehyun refused to let you down until you reached the fourth floor. Whenever you found yourself in a vulnerable state, you hid out beside the decommissioned wing. The unused nursing room featured its own bathroom and a small futon. Having visited the location so often, you knew that the cleaning staff rarely came by. You asked once and discovered that they only visit at the beginning of the month. No one else ever came by in your experience. It appeared that only you knew about this place, and now Jaehyun. “This is where you run away to,” he deciphered. “I always thought it was the café.”

           “I prefer privacy.” You leaned against the door as Jaehyun took in his surroundings. “And I wanted to go somewhere you couldn’t find me.”  

           He fell back onto the futon, looking at you in awe. “Just when I think I know you.”

           You fumbled for the lock behind you until you heard a distinct click. “Do you remember when you first met me? When I was so stupid and got lost?”

           Jaehyun rose, appearing concerned. “I didn’t know. I just thought you were cute.”

           He cornered you against the door, body close enough to feel your shaky breath. All that time just hating him when you could’ve been seducing him for the purpose of hindering his goals and ultimately find the truth much sooner. You wasted so much time, held so much resentment. In front of you, you saw a seemingly perfect boy study your movements, waiting. A position you would have never imagined yourself mere hours before. Yet, you saw it all in hindsight and perhaps always knew the truth. It was then that you decided that you didn’t want to play games anymore or mull over an agenda.

           Jaehyun angled his chin downwards, gazing into your eyes with a mix of emotions. Excitement, fear, desire. You kissed him, gently and slowly. More carefully, you wanted to know him in this way. Feel the way his lips moved against yours, his increasing heart rate. He rested his hands on your hips, gripping them as if he couldn’t support himself without them. Soon after, you wrapped your arms around his neck and gradually deepened the kiss. These moments you shared felt like high school, so unassuming and simple.

           You pulled away, resting your forehead on his. You caught your breath and entangled your fingers with his. “I’m sorry,” you murmured.

           He idled, drawing kisses down your cheek and neck. “For what?” Jaehyun ventured.

           “For not knowing you until now, and maybe still not knowing you.”

           With his thumb, he drew circles on the back of your hand. “Do you want to know more?” he asked, his voice quietly sultry.

           “Yes,” you whispered. With this admission, Jaehyun’s butterfly kisses became more daunting. He crashed his lips upon yours and held you closer. Your tongues soon met, messier and carelessly. Feeling daring, you ran your hand under his shirt, digging your fingernails against his abs. A bit lower, and you realized he was straining against his slacks. 

Jaehyun bucked under your touch, gasping against your lips. You gripped his clothed cock with more certainty than before and Jaehyun fumbled to reach your breast. Still against the door, you held each other. “We’re lucky this room is soundproof,” you commented, noting your precarious position. 

Not waiting for his response, you quickly undid Jaehyun’s belt followed by his zipper. You tugged his pants to his ankles and brought your attention to boxer-brief covered erection as you supported yourself on your knees. Laying a flat tongue against his balls, you drew a line from shaft to tip. He sucked in a sharp breath and watched you with hungry eyes as you finally removed the final layer of clothing. 

His erection sprung upwards, precum already forming. Zealously, you took the tip into your mouth and ran your tongue over the wet slit. You leaned back, seeing Jaehyun absolutely desperate as he stood over you. Continuing, you wet his dick with sloppy kisses. You wanted him to have everything, feel every part of your mouth. With one hand on the base, you craned your neck to take in more of him from the tip. You used your whole body to rock your mouth further down his dick. When he reached the back of your throat, you gagged slightly but didn’t care. Gently at first, he began to rock his hips. Becoming restless, Jaehyun held your head and pushed his erection further down your throat with messy thrusts. You looked at him with wide eyes, conveying for him to continue. 

Jaehyun instead picked you up as if you weighed nothing and placed you precariously on the couch. While naked from the waist down, you were still fully clothed. Wasting no time, Jaehyun ripped your blouse off - buttons and all flying wildly around the room. He pulled your bra cup down to reveal a nipple, to which he immediately pinched between his fingers. Already excited, he removed your black jeans and panties. Jaehyun lowered himself to your glistening pussy and brought a digit to his mouth before pushing it inside you. The penetration left you unwinding as he added another finger. He curled his fingers upwards, each push and pull hitting your g-spot. As you thrashed, he held you down with a firm hand, especially after he began sucking on your clit. In mere minutes, he brought you to your orgasm. You wished you had the words to describe the way you felt that immense pleasure, but nothing would ever be sufficient. 

Breathlessly you beckoned Jaehyun to the bathroom. “I have an IUD,” you confirmed. With your new found trust, you knew Jaehyun wouldn’t even attempt to sleep with you if he had an STD. There, you gazed at him from the mirror. Watched him approach you and run his hands up and down your body. He positioned one leg so that you were half propped over the sink and still standing on the other. Jaehyun’s dick teased your aching pussy as he dragged it from your folds to your clit to your entrance. Both facing the mirror, your eyes locked as Jaehyun pushed himself fully in you. You both drew in strained breaths. Once he ensured that you adjusted, he fucked you. Neither of you ever watched yourselves have sex, but you were even more turned on watching Jaehyun clutch onto your tit and whisper obscenities in your ear. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled, burying himself deeper in you. 

Jaehyun slowed his pace, suddenly lifting you and pushing you against the wall. He supported your entire weight as he fucked you there. 

“I’m going to ride you,” you said breathily, to which Jaehyun obliged immediately. He sat up straight on the futon, leading you to his cock once more. In that position, you put yourself to work. You bounced atop his dick, only stopping to grind your clit against his pelvis. You came unexpectedly, the sensation getting fucked and stimulating your clit becoming too much for you. Jaehyun and you both were surprised when a stream of liquid sprung out of you. 

With his mouth agape, Jaehyun looked at you. “You can squirt?”

Before that moment, you would’ve answered that no, you couldn’t squirt since you never had. Until then. He registered your shock and turned you so that your back rested against the futon. Jaehyun hovered over you, hair askew and face reddened. You imagined that you appeared the same. He kissed you, breathing “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” on your lips. 

Jaehyun unraveled quickly in this position, and you urged him to come on your tits. Following his orgasm, you attempted to clean yourselves up in the bathroom. “Everything smells like sex,” you observed, frivilously spraying Febreeze everywhere you could. Between futon cushions. The door handle, Jaehyun’s general direction. You didn’t realize you were shirtless until you saw a mess of buttons on the floor. 

A weak solution, but Jaehyun offered you his suit jacket. You’d have to walk out of the building crossing your arms and praying a nipple wouldn’t escape, but something. Once the room was clean, Jaehyun and you fine-tuned your own appearances in the bathroom. Neither of you looked refined or polished, but human. 

“I want more,” you admitted. 

At the same time, Jaehyun asked, “Can I buy you dinner?”

You shook your head. This version of Jaehyun, the one messily fucking you in an office nursing room, you preferred. “I just want to spend time with you.” 

Jaehyun smiled and agreed.

You left the room separately as to not arouse any suspicion. Jaehyun met you outside your car, once more carelessly spinning your keys. The sun had set by that time, leaving you both shrouded in moonlight. Despite the sun’s absence the air remained warm and inviting. “We’re going stargazing,” you decided. “After we change.” 

Jaehyun arrived at the agreed upon park first, sporting a loose shirt and Adidas joggers. You never had seen him dressed so casually. He already set up a blanket at the top of the hill and rested on his back. 

You wore a nearly identical outfit, and went without makeup. Normally, you hated it when your partners saw you without anything on. But you wanted Jaehyun to see this part of you, too. Despite living in a well-populated city, the stars appeared very clearly that night alongside a waxing crescent moon. 

“Do you think the managers set us up?” Jaehyun pondered, wrapping an arm around your waist as you joined him. 

“Without a doubt. And we’ll probably have to tell them about this at some point.”

And he kissed you again. How many times that night, you lost count. Looking at him, the image of the boy you met months ago flashed before your eyes. The one with the suit, the dashing smile, and dough-like dimples. You, a nervous wreck getting in her own way. 

You fell asleep on his shoulder that night, head buried in his neck as he snored quietly.  

[sparring-hyena]

mac and cheese with ketchup.

because the recent chapter was... something, i felt like i had to write this piece before i write anything else. i’ll be addressing what happened in the chapter, so a trigger warning for a brief mention of harassment does apply.

-

it’s after midnight when AJ’s phone pings. it’s Zoey checking in. asking if she’s safe and if she wants some company. AJ reaches for her phone and types a quick response out.

[12:24am] AJ: i’m fine. just felt like being alone for a bit. don’t wait up.

[12:24am] Zoey: okay. be safe. call if you need to.

[12:24am] AJ: i will. thanks.

AJ tosses her phone back onto the table, sinking back in the booth, and tipping her head back. she lets her eyes fall closed and for the first time in since everything happened, actually lets her mind wander.

she hates the image that her mind decides to conjure up. that god-awful shrine in the back of Benji’s closet. it makes her shudder. but still. she keeps her eyes closed. forces herself to think about it. to remember it. because maybe if she thinks about it, it won’t bother her as much.

“refill, love?” a voice, a warm and older voice, says.

AJ snaps her eyes open, heart thumping against her rib cage. she takes a moment to refocus her attention. remind herself of where she is: some 24 hour diner with pale yellow walls, dim lights, and tattered grey booths lining the walls.

“what?” AJ says, shaking her head free of the image.

“refill?” the woman says again, nodding to the empty mug, still patient and with a warm smile that reminds AJ so much of her mother back home.

“oh, uh, yes, please.”

the woman fills AJ’s mug and looks at AJ a lot like a mother would look at their daughter. “you okay?”

AJ forces a smile. it doesn’t quiet reach her eyes. “just tired. had a busy few days.”

the woman nods, doesn’t seem to believe it, but doesn’t push for answers. “get you anything to eat?”

AJ’s about to decline. but then she has an image of home. an image of late nights spent in the kitchen with her sister where they’d make some of that box mac and cheese after a particularly shitty day. “do you have mac and cheese?”

“sure do.”

“could i just have a bowl of that, please?”

“of course.” the woman writes the order down and disappears into the kitchen.

it’s probably ten minutes later that a warm bowl of mac and cheese is placed down in front of AJ. and normally she’s not one to add ketchup to her mac and cheese, but her sister is, and right now, AJ misses her sister. so she pours some ketchup over the mac and cheese, and even though it kinda ruins the meal for her, she feels a little less alone.

she pays the bill not long later, leaves a generous tip on the table, and steps out onto the dark and cold street. a quick check of her phone tells her it’s getting closer to one o’clock. she should really go back to her dorm and try get some sleep. she’s got a class tomorrow. but she can’t. she can’t bring herself to walk back onto that campus.

she’s about to start walking. maybe try find a bar she can sit at for a bit. but just in her peripheral vision she sees someone. Poppy.

AJ sighs. of course she’d run into Poppy.

they lock eyes for a moment. stand in the orange glow of the street light. and then AJ just turns and leaves. she walks down the street and buries her hands deep her in pockets to fight off the chill that’s starting to set in.

“AJ, wait,” Poppy calls out, and she even jogs to catch up.

“what?” AJ snaps when Poppy catches up. “can’t we just pretend that we didn’t see each other?”

“i just...” Poppy sighs. “i’m sorry.”

and that... AJ hadn’t been expecting that.

“i shouldn’t have said that you made it up. that you’d lied about what he did. and all the other stuff i did too. that was cruel and completely uncalled for.”

“well... thanks?”

and Poppy actually looks surprised, maybe a little confused and... offended?

“that’s it?” Poppy says.

AJ shrugs. “yeah? what’d you expect me to say?”

“more.”

“you want ‘more’?” it’s AJ’s turn to look offended. “you were horrible to me! i don’t care if you want ‘more’. that’s all i can give right now.”

“i apologised,” Poppy says, her tone cold.

“so?”

“i don’t apologise.”

“well, i think you really need to figure out why that is before you start asking for forgiveness.”

they stand in the silence for a moment. a cab whooshes past and AJ can see a few people stumble out of a bar a few blocks up.

“for what it’s worth,” AJ says, “i’m sorry too. for everything i did to you. but i think it might be a good idea if we stay away from each other for a bit. you’ve got stuff you need to figure out and i just... i think i need a break from everything for a while. so, thanks for the invite to your party, but i’m not going.”

and then AJ leaves.

the weeks drift by and AJ keeps mostly to herself. she only really leaves her dorm for class, to pick up food, and the occasional dinner out when Zoey suggests they get off campus for a bit. she goes back to the dinner a few times. always by herself and always to eat a bowl of mac and cheese with ketchup. she watches movies with Zoey even though they both have a mountain of work to do. it’s nice. it makes remembering what happened with Benji a little easier.

“i think i’m ready,” AJ says late one night, movie credits rolling on the screen.

“ready?” Zoey says, looking up from her phone.

“to go out.”

a hesitant smile begins to bloom across Zoey’s face. “are you sure? because there’s not rush.”

“yeah. i think it’s time. and besides, i kinda miss it.”

and then that hesitant smile turns into a real smile and Zoey’s talking so fast AJ’s having a little trouble keeping up. she does catch something about a party the football boys are throwing at the end of the week.

Friday comes and they go to the party. it’s fun and easy and AJ really loves that no one’s mentioning that this is the first time she’s been out since Benji. she dances, talks, laughs, plays some games with everyone, and has something to drink too.

Poppy’s there too, AJ realises about half-way through the night. they stare at each other from across the backyard. they don’t say anything. simply offering a polite nod before they both go back to doing what they were doing.

after that Friday night, AJ starts easing back into her old routine. she still sees Poppy a few times a week around campus, but neither of them offer more than a simple nod.

it’s a few weeks later when, along with the polite nod, AJ offers Poppy a genuine smile when they see each other across the quad. a smile which Poppy returns with one of her own.

the months drift by. winter comes and goes, and now they’re about half-way through their spring quarter. AJ’s okay now. she still has days where the memories are too much, but she knows how to deal with days like those.

she still visits that diner with the pale yellow walls, dim lights, and tattered grey booths. enjoys a bowl of mac and cheese with ketchup each time she visits because it makes her think of home. of her sister. and even though she goes to the diner to be alone and think. she needs some kind of reminder that she’s not completely alone in this world.

she’s at another party now. can’t quiet remember the reason the hosts decided to have it. maybe just for the hell of it. that seems like reason enough.

it’s the end of the night and AJ’s in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and munching away at the bag of chips she found in a cupboard. they’re a little stale, but she’s a little drunk, so she doesn’t really care.

then Poppy walks into the kitchen, red solo cup in hand, and they both freeze in place.

“hey,” AJ says, suddenly feeling a lot more sober.

“hi,” Poppy says.

“fun night?”

Poppy shrugs. “it’s okay. you?”

“it’s good.” AJ clicks her tongue, figures they need something to fill the silence. “want some?” she offers the bag of chips to Poppy.

“no thank you.”

AJ nods and then jumps down from the counter. “well, i’ll let you get back to it.” she turns to leave but stops when Poppy speaks.

“i figured it out.”

“what?” AJ turns back to face her and moves a little bit closer.

“why i don’t apologise. there are a few reasons, but i think the main one is that i don’t want to be seen as weak. like, if i admit that i’m wrong or concede to someone, then they’ll walk all over me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“what are the other reasons?”

“i’m stubborn.”

“i could have told you that.”

they both smile at that, because they both know what she’s talking about. that night they shared in Poppy’s room all those months ago, and Poppy had insisted on trying those beauty products on AJ.

“and,” Poppy says after a moment, suddenly serious, “i also don’t want to be less than perfect. i can’t be less than perfect. my parents, they’re...” she trails off, hopes that AJ can fill in the blank for herself.

“oh.” AJ swallows and wrings her fingers together. “do you wanna talk about it?”

Poppy shakes her head. “i don’t think here” —she gestures widely to the party— “is a good spot for that.”

“right.”

“but maybe some other time? when we haven’t been drinking?” Poppy says, her voice hesitant.

“yeah.”

then they both offer each other shy smiles as they go their separate ways.

they start to talk after that though. nothing serious. just small trivial stuff. everyone else on campus seems to realises that they’re no longer at each other’s throats, but aside from a few whispered comments, no one really makes a big deal about it.

AJ likes that.

it’s towards the end of the semester when AJ lays awake in bed one night, drumming her fingers against her stomach, and watching the shifting pattern of the moonlight against the ceiling. she makes a split second decision and texts Poppy. sends her an address and tells her to meet her there.

AJ climbs out of bed and pulls on some clothes before slipping out from her dorm quietly so she doesn’t wake Zoey.

she sees Poppy standing under the orange glow of a street light as soon as she turns onto the block.

“is everything okay?” Poppy says, sounding concerned and worried for her friend as AJ jogs up to her. “why’d you want to meet here?”

AJ doesn’t say anything. just smiles and takes Poppy’s hand in her own as she pulls her into the diner with the pale yellow walls, dim lighting, and tattered grey booths.

“evening, AJ,” the woman says, offering one of those warm maternal smiles.

“hi, Cath,” AJ says as she leads Poppy to her favourite booth.

it’s a few minutes later, once Poppy and AJ are both seated across from each other, that Cath comes up to their table. AJ orders her regular and Poppy says she’ll just have whatever AJ’s having.

“why did you bring me here?” Poppy says once they’re alone again.

“i wanted to share it with you.”

Poppy leans forward a little. “is that the only reason?”

she’s fishing for answers. AJ knows that. what they have has always felt a little more. more than friends. more than casual hookup buddies.

“no.” AJ says. “can we talk about that later though? i really want to just have a simple and easy meal with you here.”

“okay.”

Cath comes back then. two bowls of mac and cheese in hand and a bottle of ketchup held under her arm. “enjoy, lovelies.”

Poppy eyes the food and then watches with abject horror as AJ adds ketchup to her mac and cheese.

“what?” AJ looks up at Poppy, as though she’s completely unaware of the wrong she’s doing.

“why?”

“why what?”

Poppy nods to the ketchup bottle in AJ’s right hand.

“i know it seems kinda weird, but it’s good. really.”

“i doubt that.”

“just try some.”

“no.”

“please.”

Poppy concedes and takes a forkful of food from AJ’s bowl. and it’s... good. surprisingly good actually.

“well?” AJ smiles, hopeful.

“i like it.”

and then AJ’s beaming.

they talk a little bit while they eat. but mostly, AJ’s just happy to eat in silence, and enjoy that Poppy is sitting across from her, eating mac and cheese with ketchup, in the diner with the pale yellow walls, dim lighting, and tattered grey booths.

[skylarmoon71]

AU Leonardo x Blind Murdock Reader (TMNT 2014/2016)- Chapter 7

~Two Months Later~

“It’s in your left hand.”

“Damn she got it again!!”

You smiled at Mikey, and he tossed the candy into his mouth.

“Alright Mikey, it isn’t a magic show stop messing with her.” you grin at Leo’s comment.

“I don’t mind. It actually helps sharpen my senses.”

Leo just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Mikey was pretty easy to keep entertained. He jumped from his spot, giving you a high five as he moved to the game console to occupy his time.

You turned in his direction, the smile never leaving your face. Although you couldn’t see him, just listening to his voice, you could almost picture him. How could someone shoulder so much and still be so cheerful all the time. It was amazing, inspirational even.

You gripped the cane in your hand, leaning your head to the left.

“Leo?” There was a quick strum of his heartbeat, and your brows knitted in confusion.

“Everything okay?” You could have been imagining it, but he was acting pretty weird lately. He kept lingering around you, when you trained together it was different too. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“I should probably leave you to it.” He didn’t wait for you to even form a reply, he was already leaving. You frowned, baffled at the strange behavior.

“Don’t take it personal, Leo’s weird like that.” Raph stepped over giving you a pat on the shoulder. “If you ask me though, I think he has a cr-”

“RAPH! C-Can you help me with this please.” Donnie’s stuttering voice made you raise a brow, and Raph grumbled walking over reluctantly. “You know I’m no good at this tech stuff.” he groused. You were left standing there, perplexed.

“Leo has a what?” With all you were capable of, you honestly thought it made reading people easier. But it was still a slight mystery. Or maybe you hadn’t quite mastered all your talents yet. What you did know though, Leo was definitely keeping something from you. You were going to find out what.

You followed in his direction, determined for some answers. It’s been just two months. So much had changed. Your perspective on life, it was completely different from before, and you had the turtles to thank for that. In the beginning you convinced yourself that you were fighting for the city. Your father never wanted you to follow in his footsteps, that is why you worked so hard at school. You did your part to ensure you could pursue a healthy career.

But when he died, because of your selfish wish for him to win that stupid match, you couldn’t think of what else you could do. You needed to do something to make up for his death. To fill that hole in your chest. So you fought. For people who couldn’t fight for themselves. That’s how it started. Somewhere along the way you stopped caring about your own well being. It wasn’t really your tolerance for pain, it was more like your disregard for your own health. You didn’t care about the hits your body was constantly taking. You just..wanted it to end.

If you hadn’t met the turtles, that would have still been your mindset.

Their optimism, positivity, dorkiness...love, it’s what has completely rewritten the world for you. You didn’t have to be alone. You didn’t have to hurt. You could be a part of something more, and still make a difference. That’s what you thought. Your head lowered. Leo’s behavior made you question if you’d done something to offend or possibly sway his trust in you.

You couldn’t recall such a thing happening. The start of your partnership was tough, maybe more on your part. Trust issues kind of did that. But you were better now. Or so you thought.

A gentle knock to his door.

“Leo?”

It creaks open, and you can feel where he stands, just a few meters away. His hand stills from his present action.

“(Y/N), is something wrong?” you close the door. “I was about to ask you that, you’ve been acting weird. So I came to find out why.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine.” You stop walking, a bit stunned by something. There’s a change in his voice. One that Leo’s never used before.

“You’re lying.”

Leo had never once lied to you, and now you’re a bit terrified. Did you really do something to jeopardize your relationship with him?

Leo spots the panic that’s clear on your face and before you can overthink it, he makes his way over to you, you're a bit scared of what he’s going to say. Does he not want to work with you anymore? He rests his hands on your shoulders gently to calm you down, and your head raises. This is one of the few times you wish you could see. You want to read his expression, find some kind of indication of what he’s going to say. What he needs to say.

“Leo I-”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Your heart almost stops at the statement. There’s a little part of your mind that tells you to run as fast as you can. You don’t want to hear the rest. It’s your biggest fear. You finally manage to trust someone again and it’s stolen from you. Your body nearly goes into autopilot, but the strumming that rings in your ears, it stops you. You swallow as you begin to make out just what it is and where it’s coming from. It’s a heartbeat. You catch every quick increase.

“I can’t continue to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you (Y/N).”

This is far from what you thought. You’re not sure what to say, because for the longest while, you sort of forgot that you’re a teenage girl. When was the last time you even felt like one. A warrior, that’s been your title since you realized what you were capable of. How does someone as amazing as Leo fall for someone as broken as you.

It doesn’t make sense, this doesn’t make sense. Hell, didn’t guys like that whole damsel in distress thing, and what about sex appeal. You were covered in scars for goodness sake. Not all visible, but still very much there.

“You...y-you can’t..that’s...I’m not..”

You’re not even pretty. Damn you didn’t even know, the last time you saw your reflection was when you were ten. You backtrack to try and evaluate all of this. You can’t get your mind to focus and because of your current predicament, you don’t even register the bed. The back of your knee hits the bottom of the bed, and you fall back in shock.

Leo notices, moving to help. He stops when he notices there’s no clear danger, but your flustered expression, it just increases his heart rate, and that jump starts yours. Leo is still partially leaning over the bed, hand pressed into the side of the mattress right at your side. You can feel him, and it leaves you breathless, and red faced. Were you really blushing. You didn’t think you were capable of such a thing.

“You..really have no idea how amazing you are, how beautiful…” His whispers just make the color in your cheeks worse, and you're angry at your heart. It just won’t slow down. He lowers unto his elbows slowly, and you feel a bit paralyzed in this moment. What do you do? You’ve never been in this position. Leo is now face to face with you. His other hand rests on your cheek, and you’ve regained some movement.

“L-Leo you-” his finger runs along your lower lip, and you tremble with want.

Why the hell does it feel so damn good to be touched by him?

“I know how I feel about you (Y/N), I think I’ve known the minute you took off that mask.”

His head turns, and now you feel his breath gently wafting over your lips. He’s right there. Probably mere inches away. If you move just a little, you can close the distance and claim them, claim him.

“But I won’t do anything until you’re ready.”

You haven’t even noticed that your hands have been trembling. Leo apparently has, and all at once, his touch disappears. He lets out a soft breath.

“I’m willing to wait (Y/N), because I care about you, and you’re more than worth it.”

You're in awe, and you can tell it takes everything in him to walk away from this moment, but he does. And your left lying there, reconsidering all that’s happened that led to this point.

[mimiplaysgames]

Terra Week Day 2 (Youth/Fashion)

Summary: All Terra wants to do is be calm before the storm. Then  Lea plays a joke on him. And Isa talks to him about the past. Life is full of lemons and lemonade. | Word Count: 3,306

Read on AO3

A/N:  For Terra Week 2021! You can find that account on Twitter!

~*~*~*~*~

The Tenets of a Master, Ch. 2

Our hearts live free in our Youth Children shine Light with their truth

“Let me tell you something—don’t get offended, okay?”

Terra’s answer is a nervous chuckle. 

“Cross your heart,” Lea insists.

“I don’t know what that means.”

It’s a sunny afternoon at the eastern shore of Destiny Islands. Lea props his elbow on their shared beach table, ignoring his empty plate (he’s planning on being last for the barbecue, all for the extra saturation of flavor on the scraps). Terra is enjoying a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, pulp included. Lea narrows his eyes as if scanning Terra’s face, who is slurping another gulp. 

“Are you bothered by the way I’m drinking?” 

“I’m trying to decide if you’re the type to kick me under the table or punch me in the face.”

“That sounds more like Aqua.”

“She’d really—?”

“If you’re rude. Yeah.”

Lea smirks. “How rude, exactly?”

Terra was going to say that he’s seen her curse twice in the lifetime he’s known her, but something about that embarrasses him. Something about the way Lea studies him, about the way the other Keybearers address him so formally when they’re much more relaxed with each other. It makes him feel targeted. He’s never considered that he was weird until he’s surrounded by other people.

“Why don’t you spit out what you want to say.” 

“What’s with the uniform?” Lea asks, pointing vaguely at his chest and arm. “The crossed suspenders, the armor… You could break bones with those fancy shoes.”

“They’re… proper attire for a wielder? This is the crest of Mastery.” Terra points to his belt buckle. “To remind you of your goals. The armor to protect you from Darkness.” He holds his forearm, rubbing the metal like a friend in need of comfort. “The cross is a label, the Mark of Duty, so that anyone in need can find you.”

Lea snorts and immediately pulls out his Gummiphone, typing a quick message with a grin that knows an inside joke. Holding his chin, he opens his mouth as if to say something, then shakes his head and all the words out of it. “Exactly my point.”

“Your point?”

“You three kind of carry yourselves like you have sticks up your asses.”

Terra chokes on his drink. “What?”

Lea puffs out his chest and broadens his shoulders—he’s trying to imitate someone stiff and intimidating, but it doesn’t work. Not with a lanky body like that. “Have you seen the way you walk?” He wiggles his shoulders robotically. “Like there’s a five-foot pole shoved right up the asshole, all the way to the forehead.” 

Yeah, that would earn him a kick under the table if Aqua’s the one to hear it. At least, if anything, Lea makes it easy to smile.

“Admit it. You think the armor is cool.” Terra sure did when he forged it for the first time, telling Aqua that his first beta mold was not big enough.

Lea is quick to shut up, choosing his words too carefully. “A jacket would be nice. The peacoat types with the elbow padding.” 

“Or a cloak.” Terra chugs the last of his juice.

“Not a bad idea. Would look good with the hair.” Lea points up to Terra’s spiky crown. “You should talk to Isa. He likes to dress nice.” Standing up and crossing to the other side, he shoves Terra in the shoulder. “But seriously. You scare the other kids. We should address that.”

Terra swallows, his juice thick and gooey. 

It’s not really their fault, is it?

Maybe Terra is paranoid, but it seems like Roxas is avoiding him. Not that he deserves any blame—Roxas must have lots of stories to tell about Terra’s face. After all, it’s strange for Terra to look at someone with Ven’s face but with all the misplaced expressions. Right now, Roxas is the furthest away from Terra in the group, choosing to stand near the water with hands in his pockets. Riku is next to him, carrying two plates. They’re listening to Ven talk. 

Xion keeps to herself, but she also has a hard time looking Terra in the eyes. Terra’s been tempted to ask about her story, how she’s gotten here and whether Terra’s face has hurt her, but he’s afraid to ask. She’s with Kairi and Aqua, sharing fruity drinks with pineapple wedges on the rims.

“I scare them?”

“You are like a robot about to punch anyone who looks at you wrong. You need some sway. You know, like you’re a buddy. A teddy bear. Give me a hug, you know, that kind of vibe?” 

Terra’s never thought about it before. Master Eraqus emphasized the pride, the strength, the confidence. Walk it and you shall embody it. To be professional is to be trusted. But times have changed, and Terra needs to catch up. “Will you show me?”

The way Lea walks is the type you see among scheming minions guarding a castle atop grassless mountains (at least from the picture books Terra used to read as a kid). The sort of bravado that promises some and lies even more. Everyone thinks Lea is fun to hang around with, though (and truthfully, he is). He’d know better, and if this helps to melt the ice and make everyone comfortable with Terra, so be it.

“More weight to your step,” Lea says, ending his sentence with a pop and snapping his fingers. He straightens up to imitate Terra’s posture, almost on his toes. “You’re up here, like you’re trying not to shit yourself.”

That sounds easy enough. Terra swings his arms more, bending his knees every time he plants his foot so that he bobs up and down. It earns finger-points, whoops and snickers from the others. Lea brags about what a good job he’s done, signaling to Roxas specifically who shakes his head in disapproval (Ven looks toward the horizon out of embarrassment). 

Aqua has a tight smile and pretends to sip when Terra approaches. She leans close and whispers, “What have you been drinking?” 

“A crappy sense of humor.”

As much as Aqua wants to fight it, she snorts, and hands him her drink, speaking even lower so no one hears. “I bet ten munny this is better.”

It’s too sweet.

“Lea is so mean. He thinks you’re such an easy target,” Xion says, staring at the sand. That smile though is bingo, an improvement above the rest, so Lea’s done his job. She pulls out her Gummiphone and starts to type. Glancing at Terra, she corrects herself, “Sir.”

There’s no need for Sir but should Terra tell her that to make it more casual or would that be disrespectful to her wishes? 

A mock-laugh echoes through the beach when Lea checks his phone and lets everyone know that he still is very proud of himself. Xion sticks her tongue out at him. 

“I think it’s good for him, having this much fun,” Kairi says, swirling her straw. “Sometimes Lea can get too serious.” 

That doesn’t sound like Lea but Terra notices how engrossed he is in typing on his phone without a smile, totally not engaged in the conversation Roxas is having with Riku. Maybe Terra doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does. Maybe first impressions are fallacies. 

Smiles can be painted.

Like Kairi’s, her small grin a mask that doesn’t suit her. Terra would act the same, too, if one of his best friends, his family really, went missing.

“Naminé and the others are on their way,” Kairi says after she checks her phone. “We should go to her.”

“They’re not meeting us here?” Aqua asks.

“The sunset is much nicer on the other side of the island.” There goes Kairi’s painted smile. “But the water is bluer here. Good photo ops no matter where you are.”

“It’s a simple walk over, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. You’ll recognize the spot.”

The island is small, connected by caves and overcrowded with palm trees that hide how far the beach stretches. For some reason there’s a lingering ache somewhere in Terra’s stomach. He’s been at this beach before, but he is skeptical of that, as if the last and only time he was here was some sort of déja vu but he can’t picture what he’s supposed to remember. 

Maybe this is coming from Xehanort. That thought alone is both worrisome and exciting. 

“You ok?”

Riku lags behind with him as the rest of the group hikes through the sand. Aqua turns her back over and motions to do the same. It makes sense why she’s concerned—Terra is making it look like he’s isolating himself.

“I’m fine, just…” This world is so small. How crazy it is that it was that long ago when Terra sensed how Riku felt the same way. So much truth spoken in this small cluster of sand and water. 

Riku knowingly places his hands on his waist. Terra’s living protegé, successor, superior, all humility wrapped in pride with something that looks similar to guilty written on his face.

“I think I need some alone time. Tell Aqua five minutes,” Terra says. 

Riku smiles like he’s been there, done that millions of times before. “Will do.” He steps off, giving Aqua a wave of his hand that stops her in her tracks. 

When the voices fade and the water laps and crashes, Terra listens for something foreign but familiar. He follows the trail of shoe marks in the sand slowly, stepping stones to a moment he hopes might set off a little spark. Setting aside the vague fear of connecting hearts with someone dead and dangerous, he’s hoping for a lightning bolt, a sudden flash and then boom, he knows Rainfell is safe and sound.

But what he feels is as vacant as the ocean sprawled before him, like he’s stared at it for years. It’s making him anxious, how he wants to walk the surface and see what’s on the other side of the horizon. If the water drops off the edge of a cliff, if he falls all the way down to hell. 

And then, nothing. His heart sinks.

But why, though? Being spared from connecting to Xehanort means he gets to keep some sanity—

—but it also means that he’ll never reconnect with Master Eraqus ever again. Death is death, a door that goes one way. 

Maybe Terra is a terrible person for being so disappointed. 

A buzz in his pocket snaps him back to a reality where the sun is on its way to setting, and just like that, Terra feels lighter. 

He’s expecting a text from Aqua or Ven, but what he gets is:

kairi

at waterfall icymi

icymi?

Terra looks around for a sign. Shouts and laughter whisper from somewhere far away, followed by a splash of water. 

“Lost?”

Behind him is none other than Isa, put together in a tracksuit so impeccable it’d be a shame to sweat in. 

“I’m looking for Iseemee Waterfall.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think that’s where everyone else is.” Terra shows him the screen. 

Isa purses his lips as though he has found something amusing. “This island only marches in two directions. We’ll pass by it eventually.” He gestures to invite Terra to accompany him—come to think of it, Isa tends to keep to himself, his visits sparse and quick, usually speaking only when spoken to. “Ventus has offered a game of frisbee with me,” he says like it’s a blessing. “I found it to be very respectable.”

“He’s a good kid.” Terra can’t think of anything else to say except to repay the compliment. “Roxas is pretty cool.”

Isa flashes him a set of wide eyes before giving him a smile that’s equal parts unsettling and clairvoyant. “Roxas has his ways. You understand.”

“Of course.” Terra crosses his arms. The sand here sinks deep. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Nothing.” Deadpan and matter-of-fact are words Terra would use to describe the way Isa speaks, with a touch of softness that is too vulnerable to let itself be transparent. “Roxas will need some time to adjust to your face.”

Terra sighs.

“You can bribe him with a game.” Isa’s smiles are controlled but sincere, a ghost given life again but not sure how to use it. “He likes to win.”

That seems so simple yet why has Terra never thought of it? “Thanks for the pointers.”

Silence settles with them alongside the seabirds gawking over them, not awkward but not comfortable either, bringing with it a loss for words and a question hanging in the air that doesn’t get asked. They finally arrive at the spot: the same place Terra’s been before, at the same pier with lazy trees that bend near-parallel to the ground and grow star-shaped fruit. Everyone else is already here, Naminé a beaming pillar of light in her white dress, shy and nervous to dip her toes in the water. 

Isa takes a seat on a rockface next to the lowest-hanging tree. 

“May I admit,” Isa says, his hands splayed on his lap as he watches the ocean turn purple, “it is also strange for me to look upon your face.” There’s no waver to his voice, no hesitation. Isa is brave.

“I don’t blame you.” Seems like a common theme: leave a trail of suffering, and everyone’s going to remember you for it. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“You may go ahead.”

“I want to help Aqua find her Keyblade.”

Even Isa’s chuckles have restraint and poise. “I wouldn’t know of such a thing.”

“I was the last one to have it.”

“You mean Xehanort.”

“Well…”

“A matter of a different person. I must insist so.”

“You knew him.”

“I did not. You overestimate the time he lived in your body. The majority of those years were under Xemnas’s control.”

“Xemnas.”

“His Nobody. Or rather, yours.”

Terra can’t help it. He has to chuckle. “I appreciate your straightforwardness.”

Isa turns to face him. “Lea tells me you consider the X crossed over your chest as a mark to bear with pride.”

It slaps Terra in the face. Isa has scars jutting across his nose, too deep to be self-inflicted. “Um… yeah.” He clears his throat. “We call it a Mark of Duty.”

Isa does not seem offended, but whether that is out of authenticity or politeness, Terra can’t read him. 

“We’ve called it the Recusant’s Sigil,” Isa says slowly, eyes far away. “It bore us new names. Defined us so we refused to submit to our old identities, leaving us free to forge a united purpose.” He mimics the shape of the X with a finger across his chest. Cross my heart. “To the very end. That cross spelled an ending. We were all heretics to the person we once lived.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Terra whispers. The Master wore it proudly to the day of his own demise. 

Isa touches his face. “Xemnas marked me deeper than the others.”

“I’m so sorry.” Terra gasps. “I don’t… I don’t have memory of that.” 

“Ah.” A painted smile. If Isa hoped for some sort of validation or acknowledgment, Terra has failed spectacularly. “All the same, A Nobody’s path is a means to an end. We were all watched, weeded out for traitors.” Suddenly he does not look like Isa, but someone else with Isa’s face. “How Xemnas lacked the scope to understand us.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were perhaps experiments doomed to fail. The piece of Xehanort’s heart installed into us was supposed to swallow us whole. But the foundation of this concept was flawed. We kept memories of our human selves. That was supposed to make us superior to lesser Nobodies, but it was also our weak link. The goal was to keep us numb to them, so when we inevitably remembered, we’d have little care and wouldn’t dare stray from our duties.

“For me, the more I remembered the images, the more I remembered what I had sought out to do in my life.” Isa nods to himself. “Being a Nobody was supposed to give me strength to follow through, but it felt like shrinking. Until there came a point where I grew back. By then, I couldn’t fit myself anymore.”

“What were you trying to do before you became a Nobody?”

Isa passes him that knowing smile, a secret. “Finding a proper ending to my own story.” He exhales, content. “Do you have any memory from being Xemnas at all?”

“None.”

“What about from Xehanort?”

“No.”

Isa frowns. “Nothing in these past twelve years? Where were you?”

Thickness clogs Terra’s throat like a cork, painful to take down. He shrunk for twelve years, too, shoved into a corner of a room with no walls, black on black on black, as if light never existed. He’d move as if he had arms when he had none, flail and try to wake himself up when he had none. He wasn’t anyone or anything but a name. 

He shouldn’t have lived for twelve years. But he did. He lived when he knew Eraqus was near, never seen except once (a bushy smile hidden under the mustache), never heard, never touched. When Terra tried to speak, tried to listen, tried to move and ask for help, he couldn’t. He just knew Eraqus was there to give him hope that the nightmare would stop. Thus he lived. 

The part with Eraqus, Terra keeps to himself. 

“I was Nowhere.”

“I can’t begin to comprehend what that is supposed to be like.”

“A loop,” Terra briskly answers, leaning onto the palm tree and breathing in the parched aroma of bark. The air is crisp with salt and it’s fanning out the heat of the sun from earlier that day. There is laughter and the relaxing crunch of waves and a humid layer on his skin—everything he couldn’t get in Nowhere. “I played the same memory of my nineteenth birthday for one hundred times. I don’t know why I chose that memory so much, I guess I thought that was as good as it was going to get. The same conversations, the same jokes, over and over again. I made sure to get everyone’s voices right so I wouldn’t forget. 

“But after the fiftieth time, I’d beg Aqua to say something different, but she never did. I’d try to ask Ven a new question but it never escaped my mouth. I could only act the part I was supposed to. Over and over again. When I was tired of it, I went back to Nowhere and waited. 

“I only kept going because… I think I wanted to live. On a loop. I wanted to, then I didn’t. Then I did.

“You never know what kind of thoughts will hit you when you think you’ve decided to let go. At random times, it—” He sounds like a stranger to himself. “I convinced myself that this will never end. That I’ll be punished forever. I needed to burn out once and for all. 

“And when I’d get to that point, I’d realize some things. I’d realize that I never made things right with my friends, so I told myself that I had to get through this, and get myself out.

“Then I remember I’ll never be free. I’m so tired. But I’ve never had my first kiss, so I have to get out of this if I’m ever going to experience it.

“Then you decide to play your most humiliating memory to find out exactly what you did wrong, when you’ve made your best friend cry. It makes you want to forget everything and rest. But—and this is going to sound weird—I’ve never ordered food at a restaurant before. So, if I ever will, I must get out of this.”

[rmtndew]

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 2

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23​, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover​, @onlyhenrys​, @omgkatinka​, @speakerforthedead0-blog​, @gearhead66​

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know! 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Two weeks later, I was back at the police station with my delivery. Nick had gone on and on the week before about how much he’d loved covering for me and that two of the detectives had given him tips. He didn’t say how much they were, but emphasized that they were generous. I’d never been tipped before but I wasn’t jealous that Nick had been. He was good at small talk and being outgoing. That got noticed. And there was no ten or twenty dollar tip that was enticing enough for me to put myself through painfully awkward social interactions that I wasn’t good at. I wanted to do my job and do it well and Darcy didn’t hire me for my conversation skills. That was made quite clear when Officer Bates asked about Nick by name while still calling me Waverly. 

Upstairs in the break room, most of the detectives were waiting for me when I arrived. They moved around me, grabbing their boxes as I placed them on the table. When I was done packing up the dolly, only a single box was left. Out of every person who had claimed their order, only a couple had acknowledged me with a thank you. 

As I was leaving, I caught the wheel of my cart on the door frame. It yanked right out of my hands, falling over. I sighed and bent to pick it up. Before I could, a set of hands beat me to it. I swallowed thickly as my eyes followed the hands (with no wedding band) to their source: Detective Marshall. My mouth felt dry when I tried to speak and I had to clear my throat. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, setting it up straight with one hand like it weighed nothing. He looked at me, his brow raised slightly. “You weren’t here last week.” 

I blinked at him. “I’m sorry?” 

“Someone else delivered for you last week.” 

“Um, yeah. I had to take my mom to a doctor’s appointment. My co-worker Nick covered for me.” 

He nodded. “He talks a lot.”

I laughed. “Yes, he does,” I agreed. “It’s a talent that I don’t possess.” 

He gave me a half smile and my stomach flipped at the sight of it. “Me, either,” he said. “Is your mother okay?” 

“Yeah. It was just a check up with her oncologist. She has to go every few weeks.” 

“Does that mean she’s in remission?” 

“It does, yeah. She’s been clear for a few months now.”

“And you care for her?”

“I do. As much as she’ll let me, anyway. My dad died a couple of years back so she asked me to move in with her. She couldn’t bear to sell the house but she couldn’t handle being alone, either,” I said, then smiled. “She had a friend who offered to move in and pay rent but Mom said she was too noisy. Apparently I make a good housemate because I’m not overly talkative.” 

“My daughter thinks I’m a bad housemate because I’m not talkative enough,” he joked. 

I laughed. “How old is she?”

“Thirteen.” 

“You’re just on the cusp, then. My parents were amazing and they still couldn’t do anything right when I was a teenager. But if your daughter’s biggest complaint is that you’re not talkative enough, that’s pretty good.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and raised his eyebrows. “It’s not her biggest complaint, just one of several.” 

“Well, as long as she feels comfortable enough to voice her problems to you, it’s fixable. It’s when they shut down that’s the problem,” I said, then suddenly felt silly for sharing so much with him. The poor man was just being polite and I was keeping him hostage. He’d come for his lunch - not for my life story. “Um, anyway, I should get back to work. Thank you again for helping me.” 

“No problem.”

“Have a good week.”

“You, too.” 

That Saturday, despite every fiber of my being screaming for me to be somewhere else, I found myself at an overpriced bar with my friends Lena and Demi. Demi had gotten a promotion at her job and wanted us to go out to celebrate. I wanted to back out but they wouldn’t let me, so I tagged along knowing full well that it would be the same as always: I wouldn’t drink, I wouldn’t dance, they would get annoyed at me for being a ‘wet blanket’, then they’d meet some guys and ignore me for the rest of the night, except when they’d tell me how much fun I was missing out on. I knew what I was in for, and yet I still hated it when it happened. 

That particular evening, Lena and Demi zeroed in on two guys while we were still at the bar ordering. They introduced themselves and invited them to sit with us. While the four of them chatted, I sat, listening and watching the clock, counting the minutes until I felt I could call it a night without offending Demi. But despite being the third (fifth?) wheel, I was comfortable being on my own. Unfortunately that comfort was kicked square in the teeth when a friend joined the two guys Demi and Lena were talking to. He was a squirrely looking guy with a severely receding hairline and he was several inches shorter than me. But there was an unspoken rule that if your two friends were talking to someone else’s two friends, you were now obligated to talk to each other. I knew that rule well because I’d spent a good portion of my adult life as the quiet third friend to two far more outgoing women.The only time I’d been excused from the rule was when I’d been dating my ex-boyfriend Ezra.  So while they were chatting up guys they were genuinely interested in, I was usually left taking one for the team. I wondered how often they thought about talking to me in the same terms. 

A lot of the times I was lucky and the guy would carry the whole conversation, talking about himself, and I didn’t have to do much more than nod and pretend to be interested. Every once in a while I’d get a guy who was a bit pushy at the end of the night, practically demanding my phone number, or, on rare occasions, something a little more intimate. I was pretty good at turning them down in a way that didn’t escalate the situation, but there were still those few that slipped through that didn’t know that no meant no. That night, unfortunately, was one of those nights. The guy I’d gotten stuck talking to, Adam, had started out self absorbed but otherwise okay, but I guess he took my quiet nodding and occasional ‘Yeahs’ and ‘Wows’ as extreme interest and as time ticked on, he became more bold. His conversation took on a more...personal tone. That’s when I decided to try to wrap it up. I wasn’t spending time with Demi, she and Lena were both dancing, and I wasn’t going to let some guy make me uncomfortable. But when I tried to end the conversation, he wouldn’t let me. 

“Come on, we’re having fun,” he said. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

“I do, actually. I have to work tomorrow,” I lied.

“You could stay for another hour.”

I shook my head. “No, sorry.” 

I moved to stand up and he put his hand on my leg, holding me still. “I think you can.”

“But I’m not, so move your hand.”

Instead of letting go, he squeezed tighter. “You don’t have to play hard to get, you know? It’s not attractive.”

“And neither are you. Now move your hand.”

He swore, calling me a name, but kept gripping me. I was sure he’d leave a bruise. “You’re not pretty enough to be this difficult.” 

I felt a sudden surge of warmth behind me and could feel the presence of someone standing there.

“She told you to let go, I suggest you listen.”

My head snapped up at the sound of the voice. Detective Marshall was standing behind me. His pretty blue eyes were dark like an angry ocean as he glared at Adam, giving his already stern face a menacing look. 

“Who are you?” Adam asked, too stupid to give up.

“Someone who will gladly break your hand if you don’t move it like she asked.” 

Detective Marshall took a few steps forward, putting himself tight to my side. Adam was going to say something, he had his mouth open ready to do so, but Detective Marshall crossed his arms over his chest and Adam’s eyes went to his belt. His sweater had risen to show off his badge and gun clipped at his waist. The sight was enough to shut Adam up. He didn’t say another word. He let go of my leg and left. 

“Are you alright?” Detective Marshall asked.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

He looked at me, his face softened. “This doesn’t really look like your scene.” 

I shook my head. “It’s not. I’m here with my friends,” I said. His eyes glanced at the empty chairs around me. I nodded to the dance floor. “They’re over there.”

He looked to where Adam was talking to the two friends he’d come with. They were still with Lena and Demi, and were all staring at me. I was sure that Adam was telling them I was a frigid tease, and they were almost definitely confused by Detective Marshall standing next to me like a bodyguard. 

“What about you?” I asked. “You don’t really look like this is your scene, either.”

He looked down at me. “It’s not. I’m working a case. I was asking the manager about the victim.” He looked at my friends again before letting out a breath. “Are you staying here or would you like me to walk you to your car?”

“No, I’m not staying,” I said. “But I didn’t drive. I rode with them. I was going to get an Uber.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to get into a car with a stranger by yourself at night?”

I nodded as I stood. I liked that I had to look up at him slightly. “It’s usually what happens when I let myself get talked into these stupid nights.”

I watched his face. It was like he had a million thoughts running through his mind at once and his eyes shifted, like he was actively trying to sort through them. After a moment he said, “Would you let me drive you instead?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can usually get an Uber here in about ten minutes.” I gave a faint smile. “You could talk to them before I get in, if you want?”

He shook his head and rubbed his neck. “I’d feel a lot better if I knew you got home safely.” 

So much of me wanted to say no. I had a difficult time accepting help from people, even when I clearly needed it, because I hated the thought of being a burden on someone. But if he was there asking about a victim, there was a chance that they’d been at that bar, maybe even disappeared from there, maybe after taking a ride from someone they thought was legit and was later found dead. Maybe he didn’t want another case, especially with a familiar person, and that’s why he was offering me the ride. That’s what I told myself anyway. That was my excuse for wanting to accept his offer. It wasn’t that I was weirdly attracted to how protected he made me feel. 

“Okay,” I relented. 

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Let me tell my friends I’m leaving.” 

I started walking towards Lena and Demi. They’d been watching me ever since Adam had drawn their attention to me. But before I could reach them, they came to me, meeting me halfway. 

“What is going on, Fiona?” Demi demanded. “That guy you were talking to said you were having a good time and then you just started freaking out and making a scene. He said some guy heard you and threatened him if he didn’t leave you alone.” 

I shook my head. “That’s not how it happened. He was making me uncomfortable so I said I was going to leave. He put his hands on me and I told him to let me go. He wouldn’t and yes, someone did step in, but he wouldn’t have if that perv had just let me go.”

“Why do you do this?” Lena asked. “Anytime a guy shows interest in you, you find some reason to run away.”

“That’s not true. And even if it was, that’s not what happened here,” I said. 

“It is true. And I honestly don’t know why we invite you out anymore. You always make things awkward because you don’t know how to function like an adult woman. You’re like some little girl who’s afraid to even let a boy kiss her,” Demi said. “You need to grow up.”

I bit my tongue. I knew that she’d had a few drinks and that she always got catty right before she tipped over to drunk, but just because she was rude didn’t mean that I had to be, too. The evening had taken all the energy from me and I didn’t have the strength to try to be diplomatic. I chose to ignore her completely instead.

“I’m going home,” I finally said. 

“I’m not taking you,” Lena said. “Not right now.” 

“I don’t need you. Someone else is taking me”

Demi rolled her eyes. “Who?”

I looked at Detective Marshall. He was still standing by our table, waiting. “You guys think I need to get out of my comfort zone, so I am.”

“You’re going home with a man you just met? Do you know how dangerous that is?” Lena asked.

“First of all, you two do it all the time,” I said. “And secondly, I’m not going home with him, he’s taking me home.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Demi said.

“I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to know that I’m leaving. Whoever I go with, or however I get home, doesn’t matter.”

I walked off, feeling angry heat licking my neck and ears. My hands kept clenching tightly, pushing my fingernails into the palms of my hands. Detective Marshall could obviously tell that something was wrong because he tilted his head at me, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“I have horrible friends, but other than that, everything’s peachy,” I said dryly. 

He didn’t ask any follow up questions but I think he’d observed enough of the situation to not need to. He just nodded and waved for me to follow him.

The air outside was surprisingly cold and made my angrily flushed skin sting from the contrast. But the feeling worked like a grounding sensation, clearing my mind. I let out a breath and followed Detective Marshall to his truck. He went to the passenger’s side and unlocked it, then opened it for me. 

“Thank you,” I said, climbing in. 

He gave me a smile that somehow read more in his eyes than his mouth before closing the door. 

I took my crossbody purse off, holding it in my lap, before pulling on my seatbelt. I watched as he walked around the front of the truck, unlocking his own door and sliding in beside me. He started his truck with one hand while reaching for his seatbelt with the other. As the truck came to life, the radio came on. A ZZ Top song was playing. 

“Sorry,” he said, turning the volume down but leaving the radio itself on.

I noticed the station and smiled. “This is the same station I listen to in my car.” 

He looked over at me, giving me another one of his eye smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Shouting along to eighties rock music is a pretty good stress reliever.” 

“It doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.” 

He asked where I lived and even though I was terrible at explaining directions, I finally gave him enough clues for him to piece it together. He said that his ex-wife had lived in the neighborhood just past mine when they were dating and he remembered seeing the sign for it. Once we pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, I took my phone from my purse.

“Do you mind if I make a quick phone call?”

He shook his head. “No, go on.” 

I called Mom but she didn’t answer. I wasn’t worried. She was more than likely watching TV and had her phone in her room again. I decided to leave a message. “Hey Mom, it’s Fi. I was just letting you know that I’m on my way home. You don’t have to call me back when you get this, I’ll just see you when I get there. Love you. Bye.”

I hung up and put the phone away. A few moments passed before Detective Marshall asked, “Is Fi short for something?”

“Yeah. Fiona. When I was a kid my dad used to call me Fi-Fi Bird, then he shortened to Fi when I was a teenager.” 

“When did you lose him?”

“Two years ago. He was hit by a drunk driver.”

“Was your mum ill at the time?”

“No. I mean, she may have had her cancer then but we didn’t know anything about it. They found it at the beginning of the year.” I looked at him. “I’m a little surprised that you remember me telling you about them, to be honest.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve barely spoken and I assume your job is mentaly exhausting, so the fact that you remembered it… I don’t know, I’m just surprised.”

“It is mentally exhausting. But peanut butter cookies help.” He looked at me briefly, giving me a smile that showed his teeth. “And you bring those.”

I laughed and felt my cheeks heat back up, but it wasn’t from anger that time. “And that makes me memorable?” 

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

A few minutes passed quietly, but not uncomfortably, before I stole a glance at him. He really was gorgeous. I had no issues with Demi and Lena thinking that I was leaving with him for reasons other than an innocent ride home. They’d been more than snide about my lack of interest in men since my last boyfriend had broken up with me, never pausing to think that how he’d broken up with me - and more importantly when - had done a lot of damage. 

“I really do appreciate you giving me a ride home,” I said. “I, uh, I don’t have anyone else to call. An Uber would have been my only option.”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” he said. “But next time maybe think about driving your own car. I’m not just against Uber; I’m against any rides that require you to get into a car with a stranger. Particularly women. And particularly at that bar.” He pushed his hair back from his face and let out a frustrated breath. “Their security cameras have been down since May.” He swore under his breath. “Sort of defeats the purpose of security cameras.” 

“Does that stall your investigation?”

“Not necessarily. Other businesses in the area may have footage. It just delays things, at least for tonight.” 

“Can I ask how long you’ve been working on it?” 

“It’ll be two weeks tomorrow.”

“Is that long for a murder investigation?”

He didn’t say anything for a while and I thought I’d gone too far. Just as I was about to apologize he said, “They don’t really have typical timelines. It just depends on the case. Some are like a ripple effect and you just have to start in the center and work your way out.” He paused for a moment, licking his lips. “Others are like a pile of rope tangled up. You have to work your way through, trying to untangle it, but sometimes you’re working on a piece that’s a dead end, then you have to start all over again. Those take a bit longer.”

“And this case, it’s one of the tangled ones?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He glanced at me again quickly, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. “That’s the job.”

Another wave of silence filled the cab of his truck. I liked that he didn’t talk for the sake of it. He seemed to be at ease in the quiet and his ease spilled over to me. That was the only explanation for me being so calm sitting that close to a man as attractive as him and not having a total meltdown. And we were close enough that the body heat radiating off of him kept me from requesting that the actual heater be turned on, despite the chilly night. He was like a human space heater, but I was far from complaining. And I think the fact that he had been so protective of me fed that feeling of comfort. That night, he had stood up for me more than Ezra ever had in three and a half years. 

“I can’t remember if I thanked you earlier at the bar or not when you helped me with that guy, but  thank you for that, too,” I said. “I’m not usually such a damsel in distress, I promise.” 

“It doesn’t make you a damsel just because I stepped in.” We stopped at a red light and he looked at me. “But if it ever happens again, all you have to do is ask them to move their hand once and if they don’t, take one of their fingers and shove it back towards their wrist. Make sure to break it.” 

I smiled slightly. “Detective Marshall, are you giving me permission to assault someone?”

“It’s not assault if you’re protecting yourself, but yes, I’m giving you permission. Men have a hard time convincing police that their advances were wanted when it results in a broken finger,” he said. “And you don’t have to call me Detective, you can just call me Marshall.”

I smiled wider at that. “Well, Marshall,” I said, trying out the more personal feeling name, “I’ll keep that in mind. Although I think I’m done with nights like tonight. I’m too old to keep putting myself in situations that make me uncomfortable. But maybe I needed this to know that my friends and I really have grown apart. And maybe for the better.”

The light turned green and he looked back to the road again. “I take it you had a falling out over you leaving them?” he asked as we started moving. 

“Not really over me leaving. More like why I was leaving.” I sighed. “Their idea of fun is drinking and dancing and flirting, and at one point, I saw the appeal in that, even though I’ve never been as outgoing as them. But when I lost my dad…” I shook my head. “I’m sure you see people in grief all the time with your job. You see how it changes people. How it can create a division. They never understood that. They thought that there should be a grieving period and then I should get over it and go back to being the same old Fiona. But that’s never going to happen.”

“Grief does change people. It’s natural. And sometimes, it never goes away. You have to adapt to deal with it, but it always follows you,” he said. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I guess when you’ve never experienced it, it’s hard to really understand. I didn’t really understand it until my dad passed. And then when Mom got sick…” I trailed off. “Sorry, I told you that I wasn’t a big talker and I just keep going on about myself.” 

“You’re fine. I promise,” he said softly. 

I smiled at him. “Those peanut butter cookies really do buy me a lot of forgiveness, don’t they?”

He laughed. It was a low, beautiful sound. “They are very good.” 

The rest of the ride home was spent in slow, quiet conversation. I tried not to unload anymore of my personal issues on him, even if he said it was okay. I was a little sad when he pulled onto my street, but I directed him to my house and he stopped in front of the driveway, unable to pull in because of mine and my mom’s cars.

He put the truck in park and turned to me. “I’ll watch you in.”

“Okay.” I unbuckled and grabbed my purse from my lap, slipping it back on. I reached for the door handle but before opening it, I looked at him. “I really do appreciate all of this. You have no idea,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to thank you?”

He twisted his mouth to the side, his eyes doing the thing they’d done earlier where it looked like he was actively sorting through his thoughts. After a moment, he nodded, then gave me a smile that made my heart flutter. “There is, actually,” he said. “Next time you deliver lunch, if I’m not there to get mine before you leave, could you bring it to my office again?”

I smiled back. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I could do that,” I said. “If you’re not there, do you want me to leave it on your desk?”

“Please.”

“Okay.” I opened the door and stepped out into the cold air. I already missed the heat of being close to him. “Goodnight Det- Goodnight Marshall.”

“Goodnight Fiona.” 

Never in my life had someone saying my name given me instant butterflies until right then. I gave him a small wave and closed the door. I took my house keys from my purse as I walked to the front door, trying not to think about him watching me. After unlocking the door, I fought not to look back at Marshall one last time and slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind me. As I put the chain lock in place, I let my forehead fall against the door and let out a happy sigh. When I was able to gather myself, I went to find Mom. Just as I expected, she was in the living room watching some sort of Hallmark movie. 

“Hey Mom, I’m home,” I said. 

She turned her head to look at me. “Hey, sweetie. How was it? Did you have fun?”

“Not quite.” I joined her, sitting on the arm of the recliner. “I think things are done between Demi, Lena and me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Some things happened and some things were said and I don’t think there’s any going back.”

She patted my knee. “I’m sorry. I hate that for you.” 

“There was a bright side to the whole night, though,” I said, smiling. 

“And what was that?”

“You know the detective that I told you about, Detective Marshall?” I asked. She nodded. “He was there asking the manager about a case he’s working on and noticed that a guy was bothering me so he stepped in to help me. Then he gave me a ride home.”

She looked at me with big eyes. “You got into a car with someone you don’t know?”

“No, I got into a truck with a cop, who I’d met before,” I said. “Look, Lena refused to take me home. I would have had to call for a ride.”

I could tell she disapproved but didn’t say anything else about it. Instead she asked, “What’s this detective like?”

“He’s a little quiet, gentlemanly, has good taste in music, and extremely not married.”

She finally broke down and smiled. “Well, maybe this is the start of something, then. You deserve to be happy.”

“Maybe but I don’t think he’s interested. He offered me a ride to make sure I got home safely; he wasn’t flirting. I just feel less guilty about being attracted to him now that I know he’s single.”

“Your father and I started off as friends first, too, you know?”

“I wouldn’t say that Marshall and I are friends, Mom,” I said, standing up. “But I’m appreciative of him and his handsome face all the same.”

“Oh, so you call him Marshall now? No ‘Detective’?” she teased. “That seems pretty friendly to me.”

I laughed. “If I ever get on a first name basis with him, I might agree. Until then, he’s just an acquaintance. That’s all.”

“One who doesn’t mind you dropping a very earned title.”

“Well, he found out that you call me Fi-Fi, so he probably thought it was fair to let me call him something a little less formal, too.”

“How did he find that out?”

“Because I called and left you a voicemail letting you know that I was on my way home and he asked what Fi was short for. I told him that Dad used to call me Fi-Fi Bird.”

She tilted her head at me like she finally had her answer. “If you’re talking to him about your father, he’s far more than an acquaintance. You barely talk about him to anyone other than me.”

“He’s...it’s…” I sputtered, trying to find the right explanation. I sighed. “Death isn’t a topic that makes him uncomfortable, like other people. He’s a homicide detective. That’s sort of his business. Bringing Dad up didn’t feel weird.”

She held up her hands, almost defensively. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I think it’s great. I just hope I get to see this handsome Marshall at some point.”

“I’ll talk to Darcy about a Bring Your Mom to Work Day and see if I can’t get you to the station to check him out. And hey, he might not have been flirting with me but you’re a single lady now, maybe you can lock him down. I always wanted a sister and he has a daughter, so it would be kind of perfect.”

She laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you, Mom,” I said, walking away.

“Love you, too!”

[frustratedpoetwrites]

Sins of the Fathers Update

This is a story set at the same time as Teddy Lupin starts Hogwarts, and the mystery of a muggleborn girl he meets on the train. 

I will be updating this story Monthly.

Chapter One: Hogwarts

Chapter Two: Portraits and Memories

Chapter three: Dear Mr. Potter

Chapter Three. Dear Mr. Potter

Harry sat at the kitchen table of his home surrounded by his family. Lily was sitting in her high chair happily working on some buttered toast, Albus was stirring his porridge in imitation of his father who was doing the same without paying much attention to it. His focus was on a field-report that had been hand-delivered to his home early this morning. James kept taking sideways glances at his mother then looking down sheepishly spooning enormous mouthfuls into himself. Ginny was sitting between her two boys, this morning's daily profit in front of her, a slight thinning of her mouth whenever she glanced at her oldest son, the only indication she was still mad at him. 

If anyone had seen this family only ten minutes earlier it would have been a completely different scene. Sparing a thought for his wife he glanced at the ceiling and spotted a rather stubborn blob of porridge still stuck there. He casually took out his wand from his inside pocket and vanished the offending blob. Ginny pretended not to notice although she had looked at him as he’d taken his wand out. He rolled up the scroll and placed it with the others in the bag at his feet, then tried to enjoy his porridge. He was stopped from eating more than a few mouthfuls by the post bell ringing. 

They had been forced to install a drop-off point for owls due to the volume of mail they received, although they had few neighbours, it was always best to be cautious. It was kind of like a letterbox for owls on their roof, along with a small roost for owls to take a rest if they needed it. He gathered up the stack of letters from the collection point in their shared office and brought them back into the kitchen. He put them on the table and started sorting them into his and hers. “Oh look, daddy,” James exclaimed pointing to one of the letters. “That one has a sticker with a face on it, but it’s not moving.” He looked curiously at his parents. Harry leaned over and picked it up. The letter had a Muggle stamp in the corner and was addressed simply to Mr. Harry Potter in a very neat script. His curiosity peaked, he opened this one first. Ginny tsked at him slightly for opening it without doing any safety checks first, but he knew that any jinxed letter would not get through the charms he had placed upon the owl shoot. When he finished reading it he handed it to her without speaking. 

Dear Mr. Harry Potter 

I hope you and your family are well. My name is Camilla Winters and I met your godson, Teddy on the train to Hogwarts. He was very kind to me and we are friends now, but I’m very worried about him as he keeps searching the castle for a portrait of his mother.

 I feel terrible as it’s my fault this happened, I gave him a message from a portrait of a woman with pink hair that looked like him. She told me she had promised not to distract him from his lessons and that’s why she is hiding now I think. I wish I hadn’t told him the message as he has been so sad and distracted ever since. Please don’t let him know it was me that told you, when I suggested asking a teacher where her portrait was he got a little angry with me and told me to drop it. 

I hope this gets to you. I’ve never used an owl before I added a stamp just in case. A fourth-year assured me all I needed was a name, but I didn’t tell her who I was sending it to. Teddy says you understand him because you lost your parents too. If you could let me know what I should do, I would be very grateful as I am worried the teachers are going to start noticing he’s not concentrating.

Camilla

“I thought it odd we hadn’t heard from him yet.” She mused, “just thought he was too busy having fun. This Camilla sounds like she has her head on right.” She looked at her husband knowing exactly what he was thinking about doing. “You can’t just go march up there and snap him out of it. Even if you could find an excuse to get into the school. You don’t even know what house he’s in love.” He turned to her as if to argue then thought better of it. 

“I wasn’t going to go to the school.” He lied, she gave him a disbelieving snort in response. “Ok maybe I thought about it but you're right it’s not the way to go.” He noticed two out of their three children were no longer interested in breakfast. Albus was sliding a finger through the dollops that had escaped his bowl, and James was screwing his eyes up tight like when Teddy changed his appearance, then looking at his reflection in his spoon. “I’ll speak to Neville, I would have thought he would already have this sorted. I spoke to him before term started thinking this might be a problem.”

“Neville can only do so much, especially if Teddy isn’t in his house. He has to let that teacher sort it out.” She lifted lily out of her high chair and placed her on the floor next to her building blocks. “I’m seeing Andromeda today. I'll ask if Teddy has mentioned this to her.” She cleared the table and cleaned it with a couple of swift flicks of her wand. Albus looked up slightly disappointed that his drawing material had vanished. “Mum’s coming to take the boys for the day, and Lily needs shoes now she’s walking.” She reminded him, he hadn’t forgotten, but she liked reminding him and he nodded and gave both the boys a kiss on the head and a murmur to behave as he walked back into their study, taking the pile of his letters with him. 

The room was spacious for a study, big enough to comfortably fit two desks and a studded leather sofa and still not feel cluttered. Apart from his desk, that always looked cluttered.

“Sirius.” He said to the portrait of his godfather that hung on the wall while placing Ginny’s post on her tidy desk. The image of Sirius used to make the picture had been taken the day of Harry’s parents wedding, before Azkaban had drained him of his vitality, handsome and often smiling with long black hair. He appeared to be at his ease, lounging in an armchair one leg hooked over the side, eyes half closed, but at the sound of his name he sat up straight and alert . “Can you go to Hogwarts and tell Professor Longbottom I would like to speak to him if he is free for lunch. I will most likely be at my work before you return. I will make sure I can speak to you there.” 

“My pleasure to help,” he said and walked to the edge of his frame and disappeared. The couple in the other picture just smiled serenely down at him while he rummaged around in his desk. Ginny walked in with Lily on her hip while he was still searching.

“That’s the boys at mums.” She glanced at the empty frame but said nothing about it. “Are you working from home today?” He shook his head, continuing to search. “If you organised, and took the files you no longer need back to work, you might have a better chance of finding things.” She said it in a very patient tone like she had said it many times before, she turned to their daughter who was trying to stuff her fist in her mouth. “Is daddy a messy boy!” She said in a silly voice smiling and making a face, Lily giggled, brown eyes sparkling. Harry made a noise at his wife but knew she was right, he needed to find time to clear out his desk. 

“If you are out as well today then I won’t be home for lunch. I will do my best to be home for dinner.” Finding what he was looking for he slipped it into his pocket, then came over and blew a few raspberries on his daughters neck and planted a few kisses on her cheek, she giggled even more slapping a hand against his cheek. He turned and gave his wife a kiss wrapping an arm around her briefly whispering “love you” into her neck, before grabbing his bag and walking to the door and apparating to work.

When Harry arrived at the atrium he kept his eyes forward deliberately not paying attention to anyone else who might try to catch his eye. He did it without even thinking about it anymore.

“Morning boss.” The young Auror who had been standing leaning against the memorial fountain looking completely at ease, joined in step with him as he made his way towards the lifts. The brisk pace did nothing to stop his swagger.

“Morning Caldwell.” He acknowledged his companion. Now that he was with company he started scanning the various wizards moving about the atrium. The busy morning rush had now passed and there were only a few stragglers like himself. Owen Caldwell might act like a bit of an arrogant sod but he was a very good guard dog, and a very good Auror, he had taken very well to the lesson that confidence breeds confidence. Harry was much less likely to be intercepted on his way into the office when he was seen talking to someone else. He used to take the time to speak to people when he came into work until he realised it was taking him longer and longer to actually get to his desk. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, the problem was that people would want him to deal with every issue the ministry dealt with, regardless of who they were supposed to report to. He had never asked them to do it but one morning he started being met by someone from headquarters in the atrium, and all of a sudden he got to his desk before noon. “Has anyone at Bodmin made it in for the scheduled update yet?” The easy smile on Owens’s face faulted for a moment as he replied.

“Not yet boss no, and it’s getting pretty close to the deadline. Maybe we should send someone to check?” He meant himself, rumours were he was getting quite close to one of the agents currently out on mission. Harry knew how reckless people could become when they are trying to save those they love. He was a prime example of that, he shook his head.

“The reason why we have 24 hours to check in is because, as you very well know, you can’t always just pop back here and say hi.” There were a few people standing waiting when they got to the lifts so they ended the conversation. He recognised one as his brother in law Percy who looked to be deep in discussions with a witch he didn’t know. They nodded to each other in greeting but Percy didn’t stop to talk to him or slow down his conversation. Harry tried not to listen, knowing Percy it would be about something very important to him, and incredibly dull to anyone else. When they stepped into the lift Harry noticed there were already a handful of memos flying in lazy circles above his head. One of them dropped down and started to gently bump him on the side of the head. Taking the memo he put it in his pocket without reading. He knew who it would be from, no one else’s memos came to him directly.

The Auror office was the usual bustling place, memos zoomed about like they were supercharged a few Aurors stood chatting over the top of their cubicles. Nobody took much notice of him walking in. He would say there were still a lot more of his staff who were older than him, but his youth had never been a problem, there were far fewer now that were more experienced than him. The problem had been filling the spaces left by the devastation after the war, not everyone was suited to being an Auror, even those that thought they wanted it didn’t always after a few harsh reality checks. And Harry refused to let anyone qualify that wasn’t up to standard, even before he was made head of the department, standards had been improved when he was placed in charge of selection and training. Finally the Auror office was back to the strength it had been before Voldermort’s resurrection, still not at full strength in his eyes but the foundations were strong.

“Get everyone who’s working on the Bodmin case in the conference room in fifteen minutes. I have to take care of a few things first. I'll meet you there.” Owen wandered off then with a loud “you got it boss” Harry, his mind already back on Teddy didn’t respond. When Harry entered his office he was pleased nobody was waiting for him, he took the small picture frame he had been searching for in his desk at home and placed it on his desk, along with the memo he had nearly forgotten about. Sighing, he opened it.

Harry

Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you are avoiding me! I really need to speak to you about Kreacher. It's very important and I’m not going to take no or silence for an answer. If I have to I will bring it up out of work but neither of us want that as it’s a delicate matter. It’s nothing to worry about either.

Hermione 

He ran a hand through his hair and decided that although Hermione wasn’t a high priority he couldn’t keep putting her off, he had a rough idea what it was about. He was about to reply to her when Sirius’ face turned up in the frame. 

“Professor Longbottom says he will be at the three broomsticks for lunch today and he is going to bring Professor Mcallister along too.”

“Did he say why he’s bringing him?” Harry didn’t really know the charms Professor, he had only met him the handful of times he and Ginny had gone to the annual memorial service. Then he answered his own question “He is head of Teddy’s house isn’t he?” Harry shook his head and knew he wasn’t going to get anymore from the painting. He looked back down at the memo from Hermione and decided now would be as good a time as any to go see his boss.

Her office wasn’t that far away from his. Magical law enforcement was a big department and they pretty much had this entire floor. He knew the Bodmin meeting would be waiting for him soon, but he also hoped that it would give him an excuse to get away from Hermione if he needed one. 

She was standing outside her office when he arrived talking with her assistant. He was pleased he wouldn’t have to argue about making appointments with the assistant once again. That reminded Harry he needed to do something about finding a temp replacement for his own assistant, who had gone on maternity.

Hermione smiled at him when she saw him approach. “Well I’m glad my last memo finally did the trick, come and take a seat.”

“Will this take long? Only I have a mission briefing starting in about…”

“It’s alright this won't take long your department can manage without you for a moment. She lifted a scroll from a pigeon hole behind her and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, feeling the weight of it.

“Read it and see”

“I’d rather you gave me the abbreviated highlights,” he complained, opening it and sitting down, the scroll unfurled and rolled along the ground stopping only when it bumped against Hermione’s desk.

“It’s Kreacher’s will.” She explained sitting down herself with another stack of papers.

“He made a will?” Harry was surprised, Kreacher hadn’t had a great deal of possessions; those he did had been mainly forced on him by Harry and the kids giving him presents every christmas. He had received the letter about a month earlier telling him the ancient Elf had finally passed away peacefully. The truth was Harry had no idea how long Elves normally lived, he knew Dobby was still fit and well and living at Hogwarts, Harry made sure to send him socks every year. “Anything he left us can be sent to the house ill make arrangements from there,”

“It’s not as simple as that,” she went on quickly realising that he was about to leave. “Kreacher made some arrangements in his will for his Legacy care to be passed on.”

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes at her, “Meaning?”

“You are getting a new house elf.”

“What?”

“It will take some time. The elves themselves sort this kind of thing out. Kreacher was part of a quite expansive family line, but all are already with households as far as I’ve been informed.”

“I thought it was one of your missions to stop elf slavery, and them being treated like property.”

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It is something I am still working on, and things have improved greatly, but the elves themselves are very proud of their service and you can’t change their minds over centuries of traditions overnight. Elves are in a better position than they were, they have recognised rights to fair treatment, holidays and living conditions, they are allowed to report their family of any wrongdoing within it without punishment. A basic right to me but scandalous to nearly all the elves i have spoken to about this. But anyway I digress. Expect yourself to have an elf living in your home very soon.

“I’m not sure how Ginny is going to take that.”

“Better you tell her quick before one turns up”

“Anything else?” He rolled up the scroll as he stood up to go.

“No, I think that’s everything. I'll see you at dinner on Sunday?”

“Barring a catastrophe, we’ll be there.”

*

Very little had changed in hogsmeade over the years since Harry was at school. It had survived relatively uncathed from the devastation during the battle of Hogwarts. The small village was sunlight when Harry apparated at the small square with it’s equally discreet memorial stone. Harry paused a moment and refreshed the wreath of snow white Lilies that was laid against it.

It was not a long walk over to the three broomsticks but still Harry was greeted by a few people as he made his way along the cobbled street. None of them looked familiar to him so he didn’t stop, just nodded his head politely and moved on.

Harry spotted his old friend immediately as he entered the cosy pub. He was sitting at a table away from the bar with the enormous frame of Professor Mcallister. They both stood to greet him as he approached. Neville and Harry shoulder bumped as they shook hands and slapped each other on the back in a very well practiced way. When Harry offered his hand to the other man it was enveloped by two large and surprisingly powerful hands. “Nice to see you again professor.” Harry greeted.

“Bartemius, please call me Bartemius.” They all sat down and Madame Rosemerta came over to take their food order bringing Harry a butterbeer without having to be told, she squeezed his shoulder as she left. “So I take it you are here to talk about Ted Lupin?” Mcallister began without prompting. “I was hoping this would be sorted without you having to be told.”

“His friend wrote to me. Camilla?” Mcallister smiled as Harry fished the letter from his pocket. 

“Ah yes she’s a bright young witch. So sad about her own past, I had a feeling they would be drawn to each other, especially as they have been sorted into the same house. I do wish she had come to me, but now I see the reason why she hasn’t.” Neville took the letter once Mcallister had finished with it and scanned it quickly. “The portraits of Dora and Remus Lupin are in locations that Teddy doesn’t have access to. We were prepared to move Professor Lupin's portrait if he had been sorted into Gryffindor.” Mcallister added in a tone that said he thought it was highly doubtful. “All the portraits of those who died in the war hold very little of the true selves, although I think some of the students have been teaching them their history. I am surprised to read that the portrait felt strongly enough to send him a message.”

“The photograph used by the artist was the one taken with Teddy in her arms, the maternal bond must have been transferred through.” Harry explained, he had become quite knowledgeable on this subject over the years. Neville leaned back in his chair taking a long dink from his cup.

“The students teach them all sorts of things.” He said with a slight smirk, then continued more seriously “It’s always a disappointment to find out it’s not truly them. Professor Lupin’s picture knows loads about defensive spells and the correct way to deal with various dangerous creatures, but ask him about his wedding, or his friendships in school and the answers dry up.”

“Probably for the best he doesn’t know much about the marauders, from what I’ve heard of them they were quite a handful” Mcallister chuckled then seemed to realise whos company he was in, “No offence Harry.”

“None taken I assure you.” Harry knew all too well that disappointment. He had thought, like so many others did, that all portraits were as true a representation of their living selves as the old headmasters portraits were. It had only been when he had been fighting to get Severus Snape’s portrait hung as a rightful former headmaster, that he had found the truth, that it took years of the former headmasters teaching their hidden image everything they could, as Severus had only been headmaster a year he had not had the time to impart much of his knowledge. The more the artist drawing the picture knew of the model also helped. Harry squashed down his mild irritation at the memory.

“My godson is stubborn, and keeping him from these pictures is not going to make him any less determined.” He thought for a moment. “Could you move them to a place he does have access to, so he can speak with them privately?” He looked at their faces and they nodded. “I doubt it will take more than a couple of hours this weekend for him to realise that it’s not truly them, but if it does take him longer we can tell him he can only visit that room at the weekends, and keep it locked the rest of the time?” 

“That shouldn’t be too difficult to do. Dora's picture is currently in the staff room. Remus’ in the Gryffindor common room. Some students might comment on its removal but pictures wander all the time and we could just put a blank canvas. The last few years have had smaller intakes, this is the smallest group in my time at the school.”

“There will probably be an upswing next year,” Harry added with a smirk taking a swig of the beer he then asked. “So what have the students been teaching the pictures?”

[ellewritesathing]

Faking It  -  II

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 2

Word-count: 2.6k+

A/N: can you guys believe there’s not an angsty air hockey gif on here? but seriously thank you for all the support for Part 1!! 

Tugging on your fourth outfit of the night, you reminded yourself that you’d been on dates before this - not dates with someone like Caliban, sure, but dates - which meant that you had no reason to be this nervous. This was just a date. Except that it wasn’t. This wasn’t just any date with any guy. It was fake, for starters, and it was with Caliban; dangerous Caliban that Billy was afraid of and Harvey hated. 

And Harvey didn’t hate anyone - it got in the way of his job as a golden retriever. 

But it was easy to see why Harvey hated him as you watched Caliban pull into the driveway in the most expensive-looking black BMW you’d ever seen. You hated him in that car. It had to be a racing car, one that Caliban had had a while and was familiar with judging by how easily he interacted with it. Maybe he was just easy with everything. Either way, he was walking up to your front door and you didn’t have time to dwell on it if you wanted to get to him before your parents did. 

“Okay, see you guys later!” you yelled out as you raced down the stairs, almost crashing through the door and into Caliban in your rush. Steady hands reached out to catch you before you could fall. “Hey, Abercrombie, you clean up nice,” you said with a smile. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“Ohhh, no you don’t,” your mom said as she rounded the corner and leaned against the doorframe. “I need a name and a plan.” 

Reluctantly, you let go of Caliban and turned to face your mom. In your most controlled and not-at-all-embarrassed voice, you said, “Mom, this Caliban. He’s Harvey’s cousin I told you about, remember?” 

“Huh.” Your mom tilted her head to the side as she looked at him. You couldn’t tell if it was the hair or the leather jacket that made her suspicious. “I don’t remember you ever visiting when you were kids.” 

“My mother left the family for California about eighteen years ago to get an abortion,” Caliban said. He was surprisingly non-confrontational as he spoke to her, considering the fact that he almost decked Billy within five seconds of seeing him - he was even smiling. “Nine months later and there I was: snot-faced and crying.” 

“And now the prodigal son returns,” your mom hummed. She seemed to have softened as Caliban spoke, but now she narrowed her eyes. “Be back by ten.” 

“Eleven,” you said, jutting out your chin slightly to come across a bit tougher. 

“I don’t think you understand how this works,” your mom said, feigning offense as she turned her eyes back on you. 

Before you had the chance to respond, Caliban’s hand slipped past your arm and hung in the air between you and your mom. An offering, sweet but ill-advised. “Ten it is,” he said. 

Your mom’s mouth quirked at the gesture but she shook his hand regardless. It looked like she squeezed it a bit tighter as she said, “Don’t get in too much trouble.” 

“If we do, we’ll call his mom,” you said, putting your hand back on Caliban’s arm and lightly pushing him down the porch steps. He seemed amused as he opened your car door, but he didn’t say anything, a fact that unnerved you as he buckled his seatbelt. “So where are we going?” 

“I thought we could go to the arcade and I could win you over with my stellar air hockey skills,” Caliban said, giving you a devious smile as his hand slid up to the ignition. The car roared to life under his fingertips as he finished speaking. “What do you think?” 

“I think I’m gonna kick your ass with my far superior air hockey skills,” you said, moving in your seat to appear nonchalant. “But I could be persuaded to go easy on you if you add food to this grand plan.” 

“Food is a given,” Caliban said, eyes focused on the road ahead. “But you should know-” his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror “-I’m not above cheating to get a win.” 

The airiness of his voice made your heart race, as did all the possibilities of how this night would go that flashed through your head. You were too preoccupied thinking about how this was probably the most attractive bad decision you’d ever made to hold a conversation, and Caliban was too preoccupied being an attractive bad decision to make small talk. 

As he drove, the street lights lit up his face and made you think of all the ways you’d capture this moment on canvas. Caliban’s soft curls contrasting with the hard lines of his bone structure, the shifting light drawing attention down to his lips. The same lips that were curling into a smile because his pretty blue eyes had caught you staring in their peripheral vision. 

Thank god he didn’t say anything. 

All Caliban did was merge into the fast lane and kick up the speed a few notches, but you did your best not to look at how his hand curled around the gearshift. Instead, you sighed dramatically and looked out the window. This view wasn’t as pretty as the pearly white grin he shot at you after catching you out. 

Caliban pulled into the arcade parking lot after about ten more minutes of you trying to slow your heart rate down. He was infuriatingly quiet as he shut the car off. How were you supposed to know where to go from here if he wouldn’t give you a hint? 

“So, you’re a real speed demon, huh?” you asked as you unbuckled and turned to him. 

He laughed as he unbuckled and shook his head. “I’ve been called worse. Do you want food first or are you ready to be completely and utterly destroyed in a game of air hockey?” 

“I’ll take my victory dinner afterwards, thank you very much.” 

As he got out of the car, you could have sworn you saw Caliban roll his eyes at your joke, but you didn’t mention it. Just like you didn’t mention the ten thousand thoughts that raced through your head when he held out a hand to help you out of the car. ‘To keep up appearances’ was his reasoning, and because ‘he’s not a total asshole.’

Your heart started racing the second you walked into the arcade, but you told yourself that was just because of the adrenaline getting you ready to win. Caliban started you off at one of the basketball games, effortlessly and annoying sinking every single ball through the net. Almost all of yours bounced off the rim.

Caliban laughed when you got frustrated and threw the ball so hard that it bounced against the back of the game and you had to jump out of its way to avoid being hit, bumping into him in the process. 

“Here, will you allow me to show you how to do it without injuring yourself?” Caliban asked, hands still holding onto you from when he’d caught you moments before. 

“So you can put your arms around me and get my heart racing like some teenage cliche?” you asked. 

His head tilted to the side as he pretended to think about it. “I make your heart race?” 

You felt your fingers starting to tingle so you untangled yourself before you started blushing. You picked up another basketball. “Are you going to show me how to do this or not?” 

“If the lady insists,” Caliban said politely with a smile that was anything but polite. 

He stepped behind you and put his hands over yours around the ball. He leaned down so he could speak directly into your ear instead of battling it out with the noise of the arcade. But that didn’t mean you heard a word he said as he moved the ball around in your hands and showed you how to position yourself to shoot your shot. 

“Ready?” 

“Totally,” you lied. 

Against all odds, your ball got nothing but net. You started jumping around to celebrate but you almost wished it had bailed so Caliban would keep holding your hand. 

After exhausting all the fun you could from the basketball game, you moved onto skeeball, guitar hero, and the racing games. Caliban was a pro at the racing ones, even if he looked way too tall for the pretend bikes, but you dominated at guitar hero and skeeball. He even managed to get you into one of those haunted house games that you hated with that silver tongue of his. 

And then came the moment you’d all been waiting for: The air hockey showdown. 

Caliban had the height and speed advantage, but you had one thing he didn’t: pure spite. Thanks to your spiteful secret weapon, you won the first round. Caliban won the next two, but he was too cocky and easily distracted by your jokes. You won that round (‘by default’) and now the two of you were all tied up. 

You weren’t going to sugarcoat it: This was intense. You didn’t want to lose and you couldn’t afford to be distracted by how attractive Caliban looked when he was trying to concentrate. The puck hit the side of the table and you leaned over to hit it back to Caliban’s side when someone made a pass at you. 

“Hey, what do you think you’re-” 

No matter how fast you thought you’d reacted to unwanted advance, it was nothing compared to how quickly Caliban reacted. One second it was you yelling at some jerk you’d never seen before, and the next it was Caliban throwing the jerk up against the nearest wall. He had a white-knuckle grip on the offender’s t-shirt with his forearm pressing into his throat. 

You weren’t sure who was more in shock - you, the jerk, or his friends - but you shot forward when it looked like Caliban was getting ready to punch him. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” You wrapped your hands around Caliban’s balled-up fist and pulled it down. “Abercrombie, calm down. You can’t hit him.” 

“And why shouldn’t I?” Caliban asked, pushing down even more with his forearm. “This little cretin-” 

“Because if you hit him, we’ll be thrown out of here and then we’ll never know who’s better at air hockey,” you blurted out. It was the only thing you could think of in the moment as you held onto his hand with your heart beating out of your chest, but it must have done the trick because Caliban loosened his grip slightly and the guy started squirming.

“Your boyfriend’s fucking insane-”

Caliban let out a low chuckle and let go of the guy’s shirt, moving his arm off his windpipe in the process. He dusted off the guy’s shirt. “You should thank the lady,” he said, leaning in a bit closer when he was satisfied with the state of the t-shirt. “She’s the only reason you’ve still got any teeth.” 

“I’m not thanking that b-”

“Okay!” You pulled Caliban back a few steps. “Come on, let’s just get out of here, okay?” 

“Yeah, just run away with your little girlfriend,” the guy sneered when he was surrounded by his friends again. He looked very sure that he had the upper hand when you stood between him and Caliban. 

You let go of Caliban’s hand and stepped forward. “You know what?” 

“What do I know, baby?” 

“You’re a slow learner.” 

He was still busy talking when you hit him so hard that you were pretty sure something in your hand was broken. It was hard to focus on the pain when Caliban was laughing and wrapping his arms around you to drag you out of the arcade and away from the jerk with a split lip. 

Your hand was throbbing by the time you got back to the car and Caliban sat you on top of the hood. Stopping your tirade of curses about that fucking prick only to swear when Caliban touched your hand, you realized that maybe you were overreacting. 

“How badly does it hurt?” Caliban asked softly as he uncurled your fingers, holding your hand gently. 

Your knuckles had gotten caught on his teeth and some of the skin was torn, nothing too gnarly looking just a bit scraped up. There would probably be a lovely bruise there in a few hours, but right now it was just stinging from bad form and inexperience. 

“It’s not that bad.” You tried to keep your voice casual as you opened and closed your hand. The worst of it was the skin between your pinky and ring finger, but the blood was minimal compared to what you’d come to expect from movies and comic books. “Just stings a little.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a better liar than you are a fighter?” Caliban asked, looking up from your hand to meet your gaze. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you suck at air hockey?” 

Caliban smiled but he didn’t engage with your attempt to feel better about yourself. “What do you say we get that slice of pizza, killer?” 

The drive to the diner was quiet, but it was an easier quiet than the one before. Logically, you knew this was a bad idea - dating a guy who can go from adorably competitive one moment to knocking out someone’s teeth the next was always going to be a bad idea - but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it for the hour or so you had left. You’d start thinking logically in the morning.

The two of you settled across from one another in a booth and minutes later you were sipping on your victory milkshake and munching on some fries. Caliban had a devil’s chocolate shake and hardly touched his burger. 

“So does Harvey hate you because you threatened to punch out his teeth?” you asked, trying to sound casual. 

“It really bothers you that my cousin doesn’t like me, doesn’t it?” Caliban asked. 

As a liar yourself, you could spot his deflection a mile away. You shrugged and waited for him to answer your question before saying anything else.

“Harvey’s family came to visit my mother and me one year,” Caliban said with a sigh. “Everything was going smoothly until his father implied that my mother was a whore. I’ve never had the best temperament, and eleven was a difficult year for me. Long story short, their car was smashed to bits by a baseball bat and mine was buried in the backyard, splintered and broken.”

It wasn’t that hard to believe; you loved Harvey but his dad was a real piece of work. Still, something didn’t sit right. 

“That’s all?” you asked. 

“Harvey had a, uh, one-sided summer fling when they visited,” Caliban said. “Lucinda didn’t feel the same way about him and tried to kiss me. Harvey caught the wrong end of it and hit me, not unlike how you hit our new friend moments ago.” 

“You kissed his first crush?” you asked, pulling a face. 

“She kissed me.” 

“Still, kind of a dick move, Abercrombie.” 

“I’m starting to see why he likes you so much,” Caliban said as he pushed his empty glass to the side. “Are you having second thoughts about our pretend relationship?” 

“I’m still thinking it over,” you admitted. 

“Let me know when you decide.” 

You let out a laugh and twirled your straw around in your milkshake, ignoring the pain in your hand as you did. Like that was a decision you’d be making any time soon. But maybe you didn’t have to. Maybe an epiphany would just hit you in the mouth like a pissed off teenager.

Part 3

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