#i wanted this to be longer but decided “does a story about a potato really need to be that long��� so lots was cut out

[zephyrchama]

🎁🥔

Beelzebub and Mammon made their presence very well known when they entered the living room, with heads held high and chests puffed out proudly. They were a little sweaty and disheveled but strangely upbeat. Beelzebub was clearly concealing something behind his back. Mammon had his nose pointed so far up, it was almost a challenge to the Avatar of Pride's moniker.

You looked up from the couch and asked, "What's up, guys?" Feeling for all the world like a kindergarten teacher about to play a game with their students.

"We got you something," Beelzebub said with a pleasant smile. It was almost entirely drowned out by Mammon's loud boasting.

"You won't believe what I found. You're 'bout to be real grateful, so get our praise ready."

They plopped down into seats on either side of you, Beelzebub careful not to jostle the mystery in his hand.

It wasn't every day they made a big deal out of giving you something. Normally, they'd just do it. Your interest was piqued. "What is it?"

They smirked at each other. Both demons wanted to drag out the suspense, but were also too impatient to wait much longer. Still in their school uniforms, they probably rushed straight home as soon as they procured their present. After grinning for several prolonged seconds in self-satisfaction, Mammon snapped his fingers dramatically. "Show 'em, Beel!"

Beelzebub placed the gift in your lap as if it were made of the finest glass.

It was a potato.

"A human world potato," Beelzebub explained, as if there was any doubt.

"Ya don't see this in the Devildom everyday. We thought you'd like a human treat every once 'n a while."

It was green and wrinkly, with multiple spuds sprouting out the top. It looked like somebody had dropped it behind a shelf and found it months later through smell alone. It was impossible to discern if it had been washed recently or if, at this point, the slimy and moist texture was just this tuber's natural state of existence.

Two sets of eyes filled with anticipation were locked on to your face, scrutinizing its every move. They were waiting for their shower of praise. You forced an awkward smile and laughed with strained excitement. "A potato! Wow, thanks guys!"

"What are you gonna make with it?" Beelzebub was eager to know.

"I'm not sure." You gazed at the gift. You kind of wanted to fling it off your legs before your skin started crawling. Though, you couldn't insult the brothers after their hard work. It was time to start lying through your teeth. "I'm so touched. Really. That you went and got... this potato for me. I kind of want to keep it as a memento!"

Mammon waved his hand to dismiss your idea. "Nah, don't hold back! I paid a pretty hefty sum to get a hold a' this, y'know."

Your heartstrings twinged with guilt. To avoid stirring Beelzebub and his endless stomach, Mammon leaned over towards your ear. "Fry it, bake it, boil it. It's all yours," he whispered. "'Long as you're happy, yeah?"

You were not happy. Every day with these demons brought a fresh source of stress. At least you were never dull.

"Solomon once said that green vegetables are good for humans," Beelzebub revealed.

You twirled your head around so fast that you accidentally bumped Mammon in the nose and asked, "You actually took food advice from Solomon?"

"Only after Belphie confirmed it," he clarified. So they did do their research.

While that was usually true, this was an incredibly unfortunate exception. You could not bring yourself to consume the sad green potato. You needed a new idea.

"Can human plants be cultivated in the Devildom? I want to plant this, and then we'll have more potatoes we can all share." The wet sensation on your leg only grew more unpleasant and you wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. "Let's go plant it out back and see."

The siblings began talking over one again again, saying, "My human's got a heart of gold" and "I'd like that" while squeezing you with bear hugs from either size. It jostled the potato and you feared it would start leaking more.

"Let's go, let's go!" you ushered, eager to give this old vegetable a proper burial. You could vaguely hear Mammon brag to his younger brother, "I told you this was a great idea, they're gonna be thankin' us for weeks," as you raced towards the doorway.

[ive-been-timebombed]

PART THREE

💥Danny the avoider💥 and ✨Jason the Daddy issues✨

Jason decidedly hated Wickham. Both in the story and the blue dumbass. He had barely caught Dick when he decided to take an early leave and the damn floating asshat is just watching him like he was a the best thing he had seen in fucking years.

He needed to get Big Bird to the cave to check out whatever the fuck is happening to him. He needed to deal with the being and he didn’t know where to start. He can’t just shoot this problem and leave the problem could kill him with a snap of its fingers.. are they even fingers? The damn claws on it said otherwise..

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” Jason glared at the being pulled his brother up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Ghost, like you.?” The being spoke it looked awkward and it was picking at its nails similar to a kid.

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ Jason adjusted his helmet onto his head and looked around for his guns and the Dickheads sticks. Ignoring that panicking face of the being.

______

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” His son- his baby.. he can’t believe that his baby is right in front of him.. the very same one that he held all night when they wouldn’t stop crying.. the very same one that had explosive poops almost every night. Okay he didn’t miss that part. Or the other.. but he missed when he could look at his baby in the bed sleeping as laugh at the small snores that reminded him of his father’s. Or even the smile the kid had whenever he got back from work and picked him up from the neighbors.. oh god.. he really fucked up.. he gave his child away because of how selfish he was.

Back on track- wait did his kid not know he was a ghost? Actually he couldn’t judge. He didn’t either.. kinda really just thought he gained meta powers and not died.

“Ghost, like you.?” Danny said to his kid he felt so damn awkward.. he knew he should be more confident- being the king god thing of basically all does that to one. Take Pariah Dark for example. He was ugly yet still had the confidence to speak like he was the toughest guy around. Good reasons too, at the time he was the toughest guy around. Ghost? Guy? Same thing. No it’s not..

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ His kid truly hadn’t had a clue what he- wait. No, no, no he can’t lose his kid again. He already lost the rest of his friends and family he can’t lose his kid. Sure he had the ghosts and Ellie but this was his kid! The same kid that he held for three hours straight the night before he had to give his child away. He couldn’t let go again he couldn’t- wouldn’t. He knows where he is now- his core! He almost forgot! He needs to do something about that-

“No!” Danny yelled a bit louder than he wanted. His kid looked over at him his face was covered by the helmet thing. Why was his kid wearing that? “I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” His baby- grown up baby.. he didn’t see his baby grow up- held up the gun he had found on the ground pointing it at Danny,

“Oh- sorry” Danny floated back a bit he didn’t even notice that he got closer, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

Danny was a horrible parent wasn’t he? He horrible, horrendous, good for nothing parent. Oh.. he shouldn’t ruin his baby’s unlife anymore than he did. He should just fix his core make sure he is okay and leave. Is it getting hard to breathe or is that just him..? He could feel his core crying out to his baby’s core.. he couldn’t leave him again. He couldn’t but he had to. His baby had a life that wasn’t with him. He needed to respect that.. the lump in his throat didn’t go away.. in fact only got worse at the thought.

_________

“No!” The being yelled. It scared Jason. It was like his insides, his brain.. the pits wanted to go up to the being and hug it. Like it could fix all his problems with just a hug and a few words.. like he felt when he got those faint memories of his bio dad. He was told he was adopted or given away by his bio dad to his mom. His Ma explained that his dad, better than the Willis, His dad had wanted nothing more than to keep him. But he was in big trouble and made the decision to give him away for his safety. Lot of good that did. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like if his dad didn’t give him away. Would he be happier? Would he have different siblings? Would he be in college and become a lit major? Or even an author? Would he have died..? Would his dad avenge him unlike Bruce.? Is his dad even alive..?

“I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“ The being continued, who the hell was Frostbite? Jason didn’t care enough to ask. He needed to not be near the thing that made him think so clearly.

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” Jason almost relaxed his body with how close the being got. He needed to not be here. At all. Away.

“Oh- sorry” The being floated back even apologized, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

“My parents were fucking awesome! My Ma was the best mother I could’ve asked for- Sure my adoptive dad was shitty as hell. But my Ma told me even my bio dad loved me like a life line. That he gave me up for my safety! Fuck even the only damn picture I had of my father he looked at baby me like a was the best thing in the world!” Jason snapped he knew he didn’t turn out like Dick or even fucking replacement, the picture perfect son but he knew his Ma and Dad loved him like they were supposed to. The only picture he had of his Dad was destroyed in the explosion. The picture was of his Dad, the somewhat skimpy black haired with white at the nape man, the blue eyed the was cold but looked at him with warmth, the man that had a scar on his lip and inhuman sharp teeth man holding a two or three year old Jason who was sleeping in his fathers lap. He loved that picture like it was the last bit of air on earth. He reminded him that he had someone out there that loved him out of the streets, when he was fighting with Bruce, when he was an idiot and got himself killed.. fuck.. he even tried to yell for him when he was laying on the cold concrete covered in his own blood after the Joker left him.

The being looked at him with wide eyes, it tilted his head and his mouth open a bit like he was gonna say something. That’s when Jason noticed it. The scar on the beings lip. The exact same scar that he used to look for on every man in Gotham when he was younger. The same scar that he looked at for years in the picture of his father. The same scar he wanted to give himself just to have something to remember him.

“Wait-“ Jason started his voice cracked, like a fucking teenager. Then the fucking man himself, Batman, broke through the window making Jason look at him then back over at the being in a panic only to see nothing but an empty room. Not even the summoning circle was there. The only evidence left was Wickham..

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting back into gardening?

There’s a story to this I swear I swear.

So. My friend got introduced to the game Omori! I’ve been a fan since it was in development and have been slowly trying to convince them to play the game to have brainrot with me.

And, like many people, my friend grew to love the character Basil when they played it. He’s a shy, sweet boy who loves plants.

My friend has now entirely changed themselves and acts as if they are pretending to be Basil in real life. They bought new outfits that mimic the ones he wears, they’ve suddenly started growing plants, etc. it’s very strange.

This is totally fine may I add! Baffling, but it’s not hurting anyone and I am actually very happy for them if this is genuinely how they want to express themselves. What is not okay is how they’re… trying to stop me enjoying gardening..?

I love plants and after a longwinded medical issue, I’m feeling less shitty I’m back into it actively. I have a thriving aloe vera with babies, cacti, succulents, a fig tree, apple tree, pear tree, herbs, raspberry bush, blackberry bush, loganberry bush, tomatoes, potatoes, etc etc. you get the picture. I really love plants! And I decided since I’ve been feeling better, hey, why not plant some new stuff too? So I’ve got some sprouts of various plants growing.

As I enjoy plants and they also do, I figured it’s a good common thing to bond over! I thought since they were a beginner I could help them when they got stuck or needed advice. So I’ve been talking to them a lot about their plants, offering some stuff to them when I harvest it, like strawberries and raspberries and apples, etc. and also being a generally open person if they need advice.

I have discovered over the past month or three that it seems my friend can not keep a plant alive to save his own skin. It’s okay, he’s new to it, plants die, it’s life. But when I offer some help (eg: “take some of my flower food, it will really help you get more blossoms when the time comes,” “you need to prune this part, it’s dead and it will spread to the rest of the plant”) he acts like I’m speaking down to him or insulting him. And he keeps killing plants.

Eventually I actually got upset with the amount of plants he was killing. They are living things and deserve a fighting chance, just like any person or animal does. There is no reason not to treat a spider plant with the same care you would a tree. So I was like hey if you want I can help you set up a watering schedule / help you find out which plants need more shade or more sun and stuff so you can keep them alive longer and he just blew up at me. I’m talking like screaming that he knew what he was doing and it’s NORMAL for plants to die and i “didn’t even care about plants until [I] started so why are you copying?!” It threw me for a loop and actually made me cry because you know… I don’t like getting yelled at lmao. After I cried a little bit I told him that I wasn’t going to talk to him until he apologises for treating me like that because it was uncalled for and really hurtful, I was only trying to help him with his hobby so we could talk about plants together and maybe share some propagated sprouts or something when his plants were old enough. He complained about me online for about a week but no one really listened because it’s very common knowledge I’ve been gardening since I was literally about four years old. He’s since stopped complaining about it but still refuses to apologise.

I’m worried that I might have been an asshole by offering my advice and help? I never pushed it onto him or anything, just offered helpful tidbits and gave him some plant food once, but he might have taken it in a different way than how I meant it.

AITA?

~🌿

What are these acronyms?

[luchicm04]

lost in the forest - part 37

Masterlist

Summary: After so many tensions and problems, the future couple takes a well-deserved break to strengthen their ties.

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character

Tag: #lost in the forest fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 3.3k

I know that tecnically this fic has an odd nomber of chapters, but ignoring that... WE'VE FINALLY REACHED HALF OF THE STORY!! (sort of) Thank you all for the support it has been recieving since I started writing it like a year ago and for reading. Please leave comments and kudos :3

Also, for the users who said I used too much the pronouns, I got news for you. I used 43 times the word 'know' in this chapter hehe... Let's see how you like it😈

Overall warnings: canon-typical violence, adult content, time skips, angst

Leaving aside the vertigo due to being on the edge of a striking precipice where the abyss’s air seeps through her traveling yukata with ease, running over her goose-bumps-covered skin... a part of her clings to the armor of the shinobi who carried her like a suitcase. The other admires the panorama bravely. She doesn’t know how to describe it.  

The emotion catches in her throat and Karen can’t help but analyze each part of the structure, or what she can see from a distance.  

“It’s beautiful.” Her voice is upright, as it is so different from what she has been seeing in this reality since she let herself be dragged into the routine. Neither the gorgeous facade of the Daimyo’s castle, nor the shinobi sobriety of the clan, is as breathtaking as what she continues to take up calmly.  

“...” Tobirama, being the bad partner that he is, does not comment on anything else. Despite the fact that they will soon be married, their relationship did not get as close as she hoped... or so she thinks. So, she cannot help but arch her eyebrow at him. “I have nothing to say.”  

“You’re not even trying.”  

“I have no reason to.”  

“You are as dull as dishwater,” Karen complains with a long-suffering sigh, feeling that hand squeeze her waist with an obvious sense of irritation. “And you should stop doing that... it’s annoying.”  

“Do not talk, then.”  

“We’ll be close associates soon; all I ask for is a little more friendship. It’s the least you could do for making this so difficult.” The civilian is honest in what she has been talking about for a while now. She sees the red eyes not at all fascinated by the idea... almost expressionless and annoyed.  

She’s not sure, and she doesn’t want to make assumptions with so little. She learned through Hashirama that she may be confusing things considering the culture shock they still have.  

Tobirama turns around, focusing again on the building that opens up before their eyes. The sober outlook of an ancient oriental temple crowning a mountain range full of nature and simple sounds is the only thing he observes. Karen gets tired of waiting for an answer to her question.  

“How will they get out?” she decides to ask, looking around and seeing nothing but a poor bridge as unsafe as nature in her world. Without wanting to, she imagines too many ideas of how to die in a matter of seconds, clinging to who is at her side. The heat is no longer bothersome or uncomfortable; she has come to the conclusion that that it is something she will not take notice on too much.  

Ever since he first carried her... she feels like a bag of potatoes at the end of it all.  

“They do not have to go out.”  

“Really?” She frowns. “Then what is the bridge for?”  

Tobirama looks at her with a flat expression that is not different from his typical one. Only a blink indicates that he is thinking about answering her or not. Karen blinks some more, insistent and quite challenging, promising to be annoying if he doesn’t. He is a shinobi capable of throwing her off the cliff; it’s foolish to have faith that he won’t do it no matter how much she bothers him. “It is to go in.”  

“Ah?”  

“The monks come by vocation. It is the initial test.”  

“Huh... I didn’t know they could apply that. It’s just like an entrance exam,” the girl chuckles, easily understanding his words. “So, they don’t come out?”  

“I already said no.”  

She blinks with a frown at such little information.  

“It is a matter of the temple. I am not able to explain their customs.”  

“Then why did you bring me?”  

“So you could see it.”  

“I’m sure that’s not true, but I’ll pretend I believe you,” the girl comments, feeling a gripping firm hand as a warning of their change of location. She closes her eyes out of normal inertia. She may be almost used to this type of transportation, but the emotion in her stomach is still the same tight anxiety of each space jump.  

She listens to the branches, the wind blowing through them, hanging on more and more to the body that carries her. She hears an amused snort that she easily ignores just when the ground is finally felt under her feet. She blinks... the civilian whistles excitedly, not paying attention to her dizzy state.  

Visiting the temple up close feels more intimidating and mystical.  

They are greeted by a man with a bald head and typical Buddhist clothing with slight adjustments to the culture of this reality. Large rosary-like balls are hung around his neck and his closed eyes indicate that despite not seeing them, he is attentive to their figures. “Welcome, Tobirama-sama... Karen-sama.”  

“Dharma-san.” The Senju bows respectfully. The civilian, although late, does the same in her own way, not surprised that they know her name. She assumes her future husband has sent notice of their unexpected visit, so she smiles at the one who still hasn’t opened his eyes.  

“We have been waiting for you,” is the only thing the stranger points out, bowing and letting them through. The creaking of the old wood can be heard, making her look up just as the doors slowly open. Karen opens her eyes widely... it’s a completely different world.  

She can almost point out references to the cartoon her sister watched. Avatar... something? One of the few times where she saw a temple just as amazing.  

Like an air temple.  

──

She had visited some hot springs in the north of the country, hidden among caves that had become a regular tourist center when she had free time and money. This one is different. Wide, with rocks jutting out subtly scattered along the warm lake, which makes her look at the sky. There is no roof, showing the beautiful view of the mountain peaks peeking through the walls.  

Karen can’t help but laugh. Although shocked by the way the temple is run and how she was kept away from the key points of secrecy, she has discovered that religion is a rather severe thing. She didn’t know that Tobirama was so knowledgeable on the subject.  

Explaining to her the ins and outs of every detail that she didn’t know.  

She was never the best at listening to mystical things. She did like history and topics on that matter though, but sometimes her interest would be lost when they focused on the appearance of a lady who had to be locked up by her children.  

This is not like the stories she knows... it’s weirder.  

���Mph... I guess this is what I get,” she says to herself, closing her eyes. She feels the warmth begin to completely relax her from the tension she has been dragging around for days. First because of her friend’s wedding, then because of those kisses he gave her along with a farewell that she saw through, even though she didn’t feel anything.  

Karen touches her lips absentmindedly... she remembers the feeling and it’s frustrating to recall how naive she had been.  

“You should not fall asleep,” someone points out, startling her. She sits up, leaning on the stone she had been using as support in the hot water, looking accusingly without understanding the origin of the voice.  

She recognizes it... but it’s impossible, right?  

“This is a mixed bathroom,” the man comments again, making her blush as she hides under the water in frustration for not seeing him.  

What is Tobirama doing here?  

“Uh... a warning would be nice,” she complains angrily about such an embarrassing scene. She is not used to being taken by surprise naked since they always tend to respect her space.  

What has changed?  

The girl can only hear his inexpressive snort, hidden somewhere.  

Karen deigns to let this pass, as long as he doesn’t come too close... so, she drops the matter to force herself to relax, leaning against the rock again and looking at the sky, frustrated at not being able to sleep. “You know, where I can from, there are no mixed hot springs baths.”  

“That is not something that interests me.”  

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to explain my surprise,” she says casually with her heart so agitated by the strange situation. “So that’s what you get.”  

The man stays silent for a while. “Still, you should not sleep here. We are not in the compound.”  

“It’s a temple.”  

“There are men like me... they can also come in.”  

“They are monks.”  

“I will not explain this. You know what the issue is,” Tobirama states slowly. It bothers him that she uses that ‘stupid’ tone that makes him bite his lip. “You were very exposed and vulnerable.”  

“So that’s why you came in?”  

“...”  

The girl doesn’t know whether to laugh at such a strange excuse. “You should have warned me before. I almost spit my heart out because of you.”  

“That is impossible.”  

“You know what I mean,” Karen rolls her eyes looking at the sky again. There is a comfortable silence... She closes her eyes again, relaxing a little more.  

“Falling asleep in the hot springs is dangerous,” the shinobi explains calmly.  

“Really?” Karen huffs. “You know, I didn’t know you were this annoying. I’m sure when you go to the hot springs, you don’t let anyone relax.”  

“It is none of your business.”  

“I know that many things are none of my business, but... I really want to endure what we’re going to do the best I can, you know?”  

“Why? ...It is just a facade contract.”  

“I know what it is, but we will be living in the same house.”  

“As long as you do not get in my way.”  

“Tobirama, please?” Karen snorts tiredly without taking her eyes off the view in the background. “I want to get to know you better since we’ll be in the same house. Your quirks, your favorite foods, colors...”  

“...”  

“What foods you hate, what teas you prefer... also, what area you will use for work in the house and the hours when you usually arrive to eat. Of course, with Kaori’s help.”  

“You said you had never thought about marriage before... You do not have to overthink things.”  

“I’m not overthinking things... see it as payment for being stuck with me.”  

“...”  

“Besides, I’ve caused a lot of trouble,” she adds angrily again, meaning on the rock. Karen feels too much for so little that she doesn’t understand or handle it well. It’s not the same as working in a company or helping shinobi with their bureaucratic matters... Love is a subject she will be touching anytime soon, although she knows that upon her return, she will have to face Hashirama and Mito.  

She won’t tell them... it’s for the best, but she feels bad about it.  

“It is not your fault,” Tobirama brings her out of her thoughts, making her frown. ...Does he read minds?  

“You don’t know what I think.”  

“I know what torments you.”  

She growns, remembering how embarrassed she should have been when she cried out of frustration for not having realized. “...Did everybody really know?” she questions.  

“Your question is stupid.”  

“It’s not for me.” Karen crosses her arms, still naked under the water. She remains silent for a while. “You know... I really thought it was friendship. He’s a good friend... a very kind person.”  

“My brother has always been like this.”  

“Yes, an angel,” she easily accepts, thinking of that man. “But... love...? I am too old, even for you.”  

“Age has nothing to do with it.”  

She wants to tell him that age does have a lot to do with it, not only in terms of performance in bed, but also in terms of interests and everything that can happen in forced cohabitation. It’s not just 5 years that she is older than them... although she doesn’t know their exact ages, she estimates that they are younger than her by about 8 or 10 years.  

She doesn’t know, and although time here is so different... she is no longer 30, although there are almost no physical changes, nor wrinkles, she mentally thinks.  

“It’s hard to explain.” The woman decides to leave the point before her confidence goes away with the wind. “I like mochi... I don’t like sake, but I do like the green tea that Kaori prepares with honey,” she begins to ramble on about things that are less tense than her problems and various thoughts.  

“I know.”  

“Huh?”  

“You like to look at the landscape between the compounds, the numbers; you are good and organized; you hate that men underestimate your work and bother girls to such an extent that you are capable of going against them, despite your obvious disadvantage or danger of death,” Tobirama comments in a mechanical tone that she does not know how to receive. “Stupid in trusting and foolish in observing too much only what you want.”  

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that.” Karen stands up, leaning on the stone without looking around beyond where she knows the shinobi is. “It’s unfair that you know me more than I know you, isn’t it?”  

“You do not need to know me. You are a civilian; it is easy to observe you.”  

“Have you been watching me?!”  

“I will not answer to that.”  

Karen snorts at such an insolent comment after saying so much. “Tobirama... it’s unfair that you don’t answer me.” She falls silent for a bit more. “I’ll ask Hashirama,” she sits back down in the water, annoyed.  

The shinobi, too, stays silent. “I like fresh fish. I enjoy reading, researching and experimenting. I do not like sweet food, red tea and working with Uchihas.”  

“You have to get over that last thing,” the civilian laughs, surprised by such comments. “Wow... you are so normal, you know? You would have a lot of fun in my world. There is so much to read...”  

“I can imagine.”  

“Plus, you learn languages very quickly,” the woman agrees easily leaning on the stone.  

“...”  

“Thanks, I guess... for telling me,” Karen comments casually, thinking a little more. “We need to adapt a space in the house for reading and a room for your experiments.”  

“No. It is fine the way it is.”  

“Come on, I wouldn’t like you to not see that house as a home,” she states, imagining the space to read, placed with some pillows and a large window where the fresh air could sneak in. “Of course, if it’s possible.”  

“It is.”  

“Oh, really?”  

“I can work on it.”  

Karen doesn’t know if he’s showing off or hogging the activity. “I can help.”  

“No.”  

“Seriously... I can also design the area. I would like it to have a very large space, with a huge window where the light could enter.”  

“I shall write it down.”  

“Haa... you won’t even let me participate. You’ve down a lot of the housework.”  

After a tense silence, Tobirama speaks. “I enjoy it,” he admits.  

“Oh... I see.” Karen sets the point aside without any kind of stubbornness in the middle. “You should have started there. Have you thought about doing architectural missions?”  

“There are not many.”  

“I know but, in the future, maybe with more renown and more clans with us, we can promote those missions.”  

“...”  

“I wish people could have those opinions... if they are not fit to kill.”  

“We are shinobis.”  

“I know you are, but sometimes there are more sensitive people and even if they don’t admit it, they are affected by so much murder...” She sighs, remembering what she has talked about with Hashirama during each meeting. “The Yamanaka are really good with the mind.”  

“They are. When facing one, they are annoying, but physically weak.”  

“Hashirama told me that they have good mental techniques. I wouldn’t be surprised if they studied the mind and its ills.”  

“What you can psychology.”  

“Yes. It would be good if applied on shinobis, as an extra support to not break on their ninja path.”  

“It sounds logical,” Tobirama replies with a tone of wisdom from having seen so much in these years, despite being so young... She doesn’t say anything else. Karen closes her eyes quite satisfied with this exchange... She doesn’t know when she fell asleep.  

However, waking up in her room already changed was surprisingly embarrassing.  

She snorts... of course, the man has seen her naked before during those bad days that she’d rather forget... so, she stays in that room a little longer, peering out the window to see the enormous room.  

Karen prefers to settle back down to sleep, unaware that she was being watched...  

──

When they left, the feeling of that coldness that the man radiated was less dense than before. Karen still feels that this outing is a success if it will make their coexistence less annoying and forced than she thought, so she does not avoid looking at him that morning with a smile on her face.  

“What?” the man huffs indignantly at the door of his room, already bathed and with his armor on just as he passes through the exit hallway.  

“Nothing... you know, I feel better after yesterday’s conversation.”  

Tobirama doesn’t show anything, but she can almost see him rolling his eyes. “It was not much. You still do not know a lot about me.”  

“I know, but it’s progress, isn’t it?”  

“As if that would help.”  

“Maybe not for you, but for me, I don’t know... maybe one day I’ll prepare fresh fish for you. Kaori-san taught me how to fish.”  

The Senju looks strange for a few seconds. “Let us go. We will arrive at the compound this afternoon.”  

“So soon?”  

“I received a message from Hashirama. The response from the Nara, Yamanaka and Akimichi clan arrived.”  

“Oh...” She blinks, looking at the point where he is going. “I see...” the girl sighs because she had become accustomed to this more relaxed atmosphere. It’s not that it bothers her to see the leader... she just feels it will be uncomfortable.  

“I will be with you.”  

“I know you will,” she agrees without paying enough attention to the thorough details of her future husband. A mistake, she would later realize. Karen looks around in detail to record in her mind. “It’s a shame we have to leave soon.”  

Tobirama doesn’t say anything as he starts walking, almost leaving her behind. “Izuna is an idiot.”  

“Oh... something else happened, then?”  

“I will explain on the way,” the man accepts, bidding farewell to the monk who was already at the door. She blinks, smiling and thanking him wholeheartedly for the attention in such a short time. “Let us go home,” Tobirama whispers very closely to take her carefully.  

He’s different... less cold and more personal when he carries her with care.  

“?!” She can’t help but be surprised, silencing any sarcastic or shocked comments that the woman might express. The albino, even though he doesn’t say anything, looks at her with a slight frown. “I didn’t say anything.”  

“No, but I am sure you are thinking it.”  

“You know me,” the woman states shamelessly, guessing that she can’t hide enough from the shinobis. Something terrifying when remembering well what he said in the hot springs, but she stays quiet. “Home?”  

“Home.” The shinnobi presses her against him. Karen doesn’t notice any of the extra care she’s receiving this time. She feels something has changed, but it is lost in the speed at which they shoot off, listening to the man’s murmur, giving details of what happened in their brief absence.  

Sure, with the exception of the bureaucratic and political chaos that Izuna caused with the Hyūgas, the rest was alright. ...How can they throw away months of negotiations in just one day?! She will discover it when she returns and maybe, just maybe... she will ask Tobirama to kill the Uchiha for her.  

Whose idea was it to leave him with her job?  

A/N: For a moment, I had author’s block on this story, so I brought it up slightly... As you can see, their non-relationship has become less tense, although of course it was for Karen since Tobirama cared a lot about it (not really, since he was aware of every detail, the house, the wedding, etc. But that’s something she doesn’t pay enough attention to, claiming it’s because she’s not familiar with the culture), the civilian thought a lot about how they should be more cordial.

A significant change for her... a very big one for Tobirama who, the more he interacts with his future wife... he feels... he is more confused, although quite observant and careful with Karen because of her weakness and lack of chakra (he lies to himself)

How will she see Hashirama? What did Izuna do to offend the Hyūgas? ...That’s why people should be trained and not thrown into a job they thought was easy to get her out of the game while Hashirama settled down with his wife and stopped thinking about Karen and the kisses he stole from her.

Poor guy.

Thank you for your kudos/notes and comments.

Author-chan out! 

[kaedeakeshisworld]

Misunderstanding

cw: Y/n being wife material, a shopping session to end the day, Leo and Y/n are the it couple for some reason insert emoji here, a little bit of a heated argument, reader-chan leaves Leo unannounced, Haruki is such a wonderful man ( still defending his boss though)

wc: 2819

gist: Y/n is going to confront Leo about the conversation she overheard when he was in his office. Is he going to tell her the truth or is he going to brush it off because it isn’t about her?

c/s: here you have it the second chapter of this story( the next chapter is already written, I just need to finetune it!)

I no longer run a taglist! If you would like to be updated on my works only, follow @kaedeakeshisworks and turn on post notifications.

Leo is still working, he hasn’t quit his office yet. You’re getting a bit bored here. Perhaps you should go home and sort your life out because the week is starting. Huh! You shouldn’t be thinking about that. 

Instead, you check the time on the clock. It's almost one pm. You’re getting hungry so you decide to check the cupboards, see if there is something that can temporarily soothe your hunger. Well some corn crackers, there’s chocolate chip cookies too. I find this odd! He is so fit. Why does he have such items in his flat? That’s none of my business. I don’t live here. Why should I care? Meh, you really want something solid now like… italian flavours in a light meal. Let me think! Pasta? Hell no, postprandial somnolence is going to hit me so hard. I won’t do a single thing throughout the day. Also, my body and my brain do not understand the concept of naps. Instead, I do nap roulette and go to bed with no wake up alarm. Who knows when I will wake up? In three hours or five? It remains a mystery to me. Telling myself I will sleep for forty minutes has only resulted in me waking up in the early morning. Find the problem? It’s me, obviously. Maybe a salad? That is not enough for me. Well, I have to cook for this liar too. Hey, I have to calm myself down jumping to conclusions so fast? I haven’t even confronted him yet. 

A jar of sun dried tomatoes, fresh ciabatta bread from the bakery, burrata in the fridge.

A pesto verde jar. A loaded toast would be great! I’ll finely chop some onions and squeeze lime juice on them for a bit of crunch. I’ll make some cucumber matchsticks for a side dish. Water is also needed.

But first, a salad made with lettuce, peach, avocado and some roasted sweet potato. A simple dressing sauce with olive oil, salt, maple syrup and balsamic vinegar with it is a delight.

One for you and the other for him. You plate everything, put it on a tray and head to his office. In front of that door, you wait a little to check if he's no longer on a phone call. Doesn't seem like it's the case. You knock on the door and hear his voice.

"Honey, come in."

He’s so focused on his work. As soon as you put this on his desk, you hurry to leave that room. You know better than to stay there. 

"Hi handsome, I got you some lunch. I hope you don’t mind me barging in your work space…" 

"Not at all, sweetie. Don’t stay there, come closer."

You go towards him

"Where may I put this?" 

He points towards the table facing the sofa

"I’m going to have a break. Would you honour me with your company?"

Do I or don’t I? I shouldn’t be here, I gotta go before my stomach grumbles. Also, I don't want to be with him now. What should I do?

"Y/n answer me, will you?"

"Uh…" Your stomach betrays you by its growling noises.

"I’ll take that as a yes I’ll be back with your food since you brought mine. Please have a seat."

He comes back shortly. Serves you your food, you thank him. He kisses your head and sits facing you on the opposite side of the table.

"Thank you for this wonderful meal. It’s really good. I love the sweet and salty combination  especially when it comes to salad."

Congratulating me now! Wow, you are bold. I wonder what his response to my question will be?

"Ah it’s not much, I just whipped up something quite fast!" 

“No seriously. Whenever I am fully absorbed into work I tend to forget to do the most basic things such as eating.”

“It can happen sometimes.”

“So…”

“Yes, darling”

I meticulously prepare my lie. Trying my best to sound confident with my words, right?! 

“I was wandering through the hallway” you scratch your head “and I overheard you say ‘how is my son going’ on the phone?”

“And?”

Be fucking for real in this moment. Just confirm or deny what I'm asking? Is it that hard?

“Can’t you read the room? Why would I ask you this?”

“Out of curiosity?”

“Don’t you think you have a little bit of explaining to do?”

“Love," he leans back on his seat and sighs before carrying on "if there’s something I need to tell you I will do it in due time. However, I do not recall talking loudly on the phone. So, I take it you were… secretly listening to my private conversation. It’s just a speculation, don’t get offended. If you do and question me then I hit the bull’s eye”

“How dare you, Leo? I did not do that?”

“You’re sure about that. Let me see… Ah you heard the lady’s name, right?”

You avert your eyes. They observe the ficus bonsai plant. You look at it for a good minute. Darn it! I thought I was cautious enough. Was he aware of my movements behind that door? Did I make too much noise? What am I getting stressed about?

Your silence corroborates his suspicion. 

“You shouldn’t worry about her. You’re the one I am with and I am obsessed with you if this can reassure anything. She’s a relative of mine so there is no use in hating her or ‘my son’.You’re so cute when you’re angry. I would like to see that side of yours more often. I know how to put it to work.”

You quickly change the topic of this conversation

“Let me take this to the kitchen.”

“No way! Let me do the work. I'll take this, put it in the dishwasher and I’ll call it a day concerning work. We’re going out. I’m going to give you the attention you need. The only thing left for you to do is to go get dressed.”

You go directly to his closet and pick one of his silk button up shirts. You chose a maroon one.  Get black high knee boots and let your hair down. 

“You look stunning!!”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad either.”

“You got jokes, huh. C’mon let’s go!”

A skincare shop; your safe haven, numerous smells flood your nostrils and you can try new products. 

Oh, body oil and a whole new set for shower and bath routine. I have to check this out.

Skincare shops that let you try their sample products are a must. Of course, sanitising hands before touching my face is necessary. The smell of the store floods your nostrils. 

The extensive sort of products never cease to amaze you. A papaya one draws your attention.

The worker informs you that it is a new arrival and it progressively makes success. You open it. Honestly, the smell is divine. It makes your skin shine and they also have body yoghurt  for it.You need to get at least two you put in your basket.

“May I please get the whole set for this fragrance twice.”

“Coming ma’am. Is there anything else you would like to have?”

“Not for the moment. If need be I’ll ask.”

“I get it.”

Next comes the argan body oil. Some body butters for a change you get an aloe vera one, honey and the last one is cocoa butter. You pay all this with one of Leonard’s cards. 

You got a ton of compliments. Each time those came from men, Leo’s embrace tightened around your waist. You interpreted it as ‘I’m reminding you that you are only mine and I am yours. Don’t forget that’

But when women showered him with praise specifically because he looks like that. You were fuming inside. Bitches, don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you. Girl, you better get your hands off of my man before I start swinging. But he politely declined them, leaving them horrified with his comments

“I already have a wonderful lady by my side as you can see or maybe you don’t since you keep insisting like that. I can’t do women like you: you may ask why? The answer is simple” he leans closer in their ears to disclose the secret

“You simply cannot keep up with my high libido! When you are able to endure a sex marathon, let me know. I’ll gladly call you back. That is if I am on interested in someone else.” 

 He intently ogles your figure after he's done with his monologue. And he leaves them there, by the way these ladies are often well off and they’re just ten years older than him but he tried it twice. He thought it was better for him not to do it ever again.

"Why is everyone gone?"

"Because I am the one renting the store for two hours. You can get anything you need."

There is one employee mainly attending to your needs, picking up the clothes you tell him to and you also listen to what he has to suggest. 

Your eyes spotted the perfect dress. 

It's a black spaghetti strap dress with a vertiginous slit that is probably on your hip bone and goes a tad bit up. You have to try this on. It is the dress! 

When you enter the dress room, Leo goes after you and sits on the main sofa while you go change.

The first item you tried on was a midnight blue baby doll dress, there wasn’t much shine to it. It enhances your cleavage and makes your legs look superb with the peep toe suede black shoes. Fairly discreet but effective, nice!

You draw the curtain and ask Leo.

“What do you think about this one?”

 It takes him a good minute to utter his opinion upon this outfit.

“I think it looks pretty on you but we both know you’re less likely to call it your fave fit.”

“You’re right! I’ll try some more on.”

You draw the curtain back and try on a scandalous pair of jean short shorts. Honestly by the look of it, you’re pretty sure this will leave your buttcheeks without any supervision whatsoever but it doesn’t hurt to try something new? You pair this one with a crochet crop top that leaves nothing to the imagination concerning your pierced nipples. It’s small, you got some underboob hanging but damn it looks good. This fit completed by sandals or mules would be perfect. You’ll get some later. 

You draw the curtain again for your eyes to land on him. You do a little slow spin for him to check out what you’re wearing. When you’re done you don’t miss his smirk as well as his change of tone.

“What do we have here?”

You play dumb, he knows exactly what this is about so just say it.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“So you wanna play like that…”

“Play what? I don’t get what you’re saying.” You continue “I think this is a great outfit for summer so I’m getting this one.” 

His eyes for some reason are still glued on your nips. 

“You never informed me you had pierced nipples?”

“You never asked about it so why would I?”

"Behave!"

“Oh!” you giggle “You’re really going to do that here?”

“Do what?”

“Great, keep playing dumb. I like that.”

Next item is a golden tulle peplum dress, adorned with a black belt that highlights your cinched waist. Majestic embroidery on the hem of it. You put your hands on your hips and strike the Josuke Hijikata pose.

"That's a business woman type o’ fit. We’re getting that one!"

"And… my opinion?"

He eyed you up and down. He motioned his left hand for you to do a 180. You oblige. He bites his lower lip. I can't wait to be next to her in that dress. Good Lord, have mercy on me! I don't think I deserve her sometimes.

"I know you like it."

"A little bit."

"You can always grow to like it. We don’t have to get it now. Maybe later when a few important dates come up."

"Yeah, let’s do that!”

This black spaghetti strap risqué-ish dress. Woah. This is trouble. No panties already because of the slit. Let me just see his reaction.

“Uhm… what do you think?”

“Sit on my lap.”

You do. His hand lands on your hip bone and he strokes it, painfully slowly.

“What are you doing, Leo?”

“Nothing honey. I am appreciating the gift before my eyes. Won't you let me?”

“I'm your gift.”

“No underwear too? My goodness, you're a menace.”

“You wanted to see lacy panties?”

No answer for this one. You get up and leave to try the other item. He calls the employee.

“Please, I would like to have the catalogue for this specific dress.”

“I'll bring a copy to you right away. Anything else?”

“I want this dress in cobalt blue and black.”

“Noted and added to your item list, sir.”

This is the last one I'm trying. A strapless trumpet dark olive green dress. I feel like a princess. It's so long, I’d have to pair this with stripper height type heels because the only other option is to get it tailored. Yeah, the last one might be it. 

"Here I am."

A little twirl to showcase this lovely dress. 

"You look absolutely stunning!"

"I’m getting this one tailored."

"Great idea."

Shopping is done for this you don’t know the cost because Leo insisted that you shouldn’t know. That’s only if I don’t figure it out myself.

In the car

I’m going to stop this semblance of tangible peace. I have to. I won’t back down until I know who she is to Leo.

“So, won’t you tell me who she is?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Aura? Who else could it be?”

"No, I’m not. It simply doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, that's between her and me.”

Why is he trying to keep the matter private? I… I thought there were no secrets between us but apparently I am undoubtedly wrong. Where did I sign up for this type of suspicious behaviour? He does not budge one bit when I want to know this person’s identity. What is he trying to hide?

“Want to keep this going?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, yes you do. You. fucking. do. Leo!”

“Why are you making a scene all of sudden, Y/n?”

"It is my legitimate right to."

"This is something out of your control, get over it!"

You know what. Good for you I’m out this shit

Leo leaves the car without looking at you. You can sense he’s over it. Your persistence is something he might not like as of now. 

I ain’t changing for nobody. He better tell me who she is before I find it myself.

“Haruki please, take me home.”

“Yes, ma'am. I just have to inform sir Burns that I am doing it.” 

He reaches for his phone and looks for Leo’s number in his contacts list. As he is about to press the call button, you stop him from doing it.

Haruki has never experienced someone grabbing his arm in such a way. He looks at your hand and then his eyes make contact with yours. Well, this is definitely something out of his reach yet the least he can do is listen to what you have to tell him.

“Please, don’t! He’ll come looking for me and I don’t want him to. I would like to be alone.”

“Understood.”

You provide him with your address. It’s a short silent car ride of twenty minutes. You’re on your phone checking a few emails you have purposely ignored up until now. You redact them and program them all to be sent by this evening at eight o’ clock. The car finally stops moving. Haruki quits the driver’s seat to open the door for you. But first, he gets your shopping bags.

“Thank you ever so much Haruki.”

“There’s no problem. My pleasure.” 

He also gives you his card to let you know you can call him.

“I don’t know what happened between you and the boss but if there’s anything I can do to help you. Please, do not hesitate calling me!”

“That is very sweet of you. Drive back safely, Haruki.”

“I will.” 

And just like that he leaves you at your door. You send him a message right away to let him know your number that way he can save it. But you didn’t expect this peculiar message from him.

Ma’am, it is none of my business to interfere between you and the boss but I have to let you know that he doesn’t cheat on women. He is not of that kind. Have a wonderful evening! 

Haruki

Chapter 2 of After all, it's not bad idea to get a Sugar Daddy

Let me know what you think about it! Any kind of feedback is welcome!!(ps don't be rude)

m.list 

2023 @ kaedeakeshisworld

Translations/ modifications/replicas/property of my work are strictly prohibited.

[nonbinaricorpse]

[TW FOR URBANSPOOK, ALONG WITH MENTIONS OF PSYCHOSIS!!!]

All right!

I wasn't expecting this to motivate me enough to actually post on my Tumblr again, considering that I haven't in years.

If anything, expect a lot of miscellaneous stuff including rambles, ideas and world building. For a bit I've just been reblogging stuff.

But now I want to talk about UrbanSpook.

I like to watch the video essays about analog horror but I'm not really deep in the community? I still like Local 58 and I hope that it uploads again one day, But a lot of the series I started to watch I quickly stopped and fell behind with each new upload.

For a bit, "The Painter" series was one that I actually kept up to date with.

I'm no longer subscribed to UrbanSpook, But surprisingly it isn't for the reason that you might think.

I deal with psychosis and as a result can often fall into delusions. Currently trying to find a medication that works, but as of right now the identity of the painter is one such attachment that I made, and why I had to abstain from the series. If anything, the controversy surrounding Corey, along with the creators behavior is what keeps me from delving back into any of their social medias or platforms. But it's because of the art and the morbid curiosity that I finally watched the most recent upload featuring camera footage of the two killers.

I'm no stranger to pushing it when it comes to what I can handle and what is safe for me, and I'm well aware that if this ends up being a bad move that I can just as quickly pull the plug and stop again.

Looking on the posts under the tag #urbanspook I'm definitely seeing two opposing sides. For all I know in discussing this I could be pissing a lot of people off.

But maybe it's not that serious, so let's get into the real meat and potatoes of why I decided to post something on this account again.

I want to try and rewrite the series. I want to be careful and make sure that I don't use any past visuals created by Slug themselves, but for the most part I'll just be spitting up some ideas. It would be nice to actually try and find a way to convert this into a series complete with twists and world building but I don't know if I would be excited enough about it to put that much effort and time in.

For this idea, anything related to it is going to fall under the new tag "RuralSlug". Basically a parallel to the initial analog horror story.

This does mean that I will have to rewatch the series as it stands so far, and better understand the inconsistencies and plot holes so that I can patch things up.

Things I want to address or rework, or remove:

-contradictions in location addresses etc

-The horse incident

-Corey

-The baby deaths

-the pets

-The involvement of the police force

-The fact that the painter knows the names of every single victim

-Who are the tapes made for, given their format?

And overall, I want to build more of a plot.

Please keep in mind that this isn't really organized, as I again, genuinely don't know if I'm going to actually piece things together and put out a cohesive story somewhere. However, if you've had your own ideas for a take on Urban's universe, you are more than welcome to use the tag for your own thoughts and musings.

[scuttling]

Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about��and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

[anonymousfiction211]

Happy birthday

Summary: Everyone has forgotten your birthday, expect your loving boyfriend Loki who has a special evening planned for you.

Word count: 2.588 words

Happy birthday When you woke up this morning you were so excited. But now, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over. The whole day went by and everyone had forgotten it was your birthday. There were no text messages from friends, no cards in the mail, not even your parents had bothered to call you. At work no colleague had congratulated you, there wasn’t even a cake – apparently the office tradition broke with you. And adding to your misery, Loki was still in Asgard and you had no idea when he would be back. For a moment you though about leaving a message for Heimdall, Loki had taught you how. But you didn’t feel like yelling to the sky, to a men you never met, only for him to tell your boyfriend that you were sad. And then what? You would only wonder the rest of the night if Loki had gotten your message or if he also didn’t care like everyone else.

Deciding against leaving a message you drove the rest of the way home in silence. By the time you arrived at your house you were actively holding back your tears. Somehow you had hoped that maybe it was all a trick and there would be a surprise party at your house. But there were no cars and you didn’t see the lights on in your house. You sat in your cars for a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths. You would just order a pizza, watch a movie, and go to bed. At least it was weekend now, and you could spend the weekend doing all the things you love like reading, baking, playing the piano and maybe buy a few more plants. You rumbled through your purse, looking for your keys. You got out of the car and opened your front door. You entered your hallway and the first thing you noticed was that there were lights on, and you could clearly hear someone walking around in the kitchen.

You briefly wondered how you didn’t see the lights from the outside of the house, you should have. But panic rises as you realized that someone was in your house. The problem was that your phone had died, so you needed the phone in your living room. But once you would call the person inside your house would hear, and that could lead to a very bad situation. You put your purse and keys down as quietly as you could. You grabbed an umbrella and slowly made your way to the kitchen. If you played this right you could knock the person out, tie them up and then call the police. With the umbrella in your hand, you slowly opened the kitchen door. There was a man in front of the furnace, standing with his back to you, but you recognized him immediately.

‘Loki?’ you asked.

He turned around and smiled brightly at you. ‘Happy birthday, love’ he said.

You immediately ran towards him and he opened his arms to catch you. It took a moment for the two of you to let go of each other. When you did he kissed you.

‘I missed you’ he said.

‘I missed you too. How are you even here? I thought you had to remain there until the end of the month?’ you asked him.

‘Darling, like I ever was going to miss your birthday’ he smirked.

Normally, you would laugh. But the remark hurt and you started to cry. Loki’s happy expression changed into a worried one. He pulled you closer and let you cry against his chest.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked when you stopped crying.

‘Nothing’ you mumbled, nuzzling closer to his chest. You didn’t want to admit it that everyone forgot your birthday.

Loki grabbed your shoulders, moved a bit away from you so he could look at your face. ‘Tell me’

You stared at the ground until a finger under your chin made you face Loki again. You sighed. ‘You’re the first person to remember today’ you said, your voice barely higher than a whisper.

You saw the hurt in Loki’s eyes before he pulled you into another tight hug. ‘That’s awful’ he whispered.

‘I’m really glad you’re here’ you said back.

‘Me too, and I will do everything in my power to make you happy tonight’ he said.

‘But why are you holding an umbrella? It isn’t raining?’ he asked.

You broke the hug and put the umbrella on the ground next to the door. ‘Ah, well. The lights were off, but when I entered I saw them on and heard you in here. I thought you were an intruder’ you explained a bit sheepishly.

‘And you were going to attack me with an umbrella?’ he cocked one of his eyebrows in amusement.

You shoved him ‘Shut up, that was the best plan I could think off’

He just laughed a little. ‘Sorry to startle you. The lights would be my doing. I really wanted tonight to be a surprise’ he explained.

How he did the trick with the lights you didn’t ask. You knew that once Loki started to talk about magic, he would be talking for hours on end. The kitchen timer went off and you noticed that Loki had something in the over. You were curious and tried to look passed him, but he blocked your view.

‘Go sit at the dining table. I have a few surprises for you tonight and you are far to curious, kitten’ he mused.

You wanted to protest, but the look of excitement on his face was way too adorable to ruin. So, you did as you were told. You walked to the dining room that was just across the hall. When you entered you froze. Not only had Loki already set the table, there also was a large bouquet of roses, candles were burning and your favourite wine was in a wine cooler. This was by far the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you. You sat down in your chair when Loki walked in with two plates, covered by a lid.  

‘You like it?’ he asked

‘I love it’ you smiled at him.

He sat the plates down and instead of removing the lid, grabbed the bottle of wine. He poured you a glass, which was thoughtful, but you suspected that he liked to drag out his surprise meal a little longer. He poured another glass for himself and sat down. He sat very close next to you, adding to the intimate dinner. Finally, Loki removed the lid from the plate and you saw your meal. It was your favourite, steak with red wine sauce, oven baked potatoes covered in herbs and green beans. It tasted amazing and suddenly you realized that Loki didn’t cook.

‘How did you manage this? I thought you couldn’t cook?’ you asked.

‘I wanted to do something special so, I learned this dish’ he explained a bit flush.

‘Hmm, don’t you remember early in our relationship that you explicitly stated that Gods don’t cook?’ you teased him.

Loki grabbed your hand kissed the back of it. ‘He does for the one he loves’ he said, making you fluster and blush. He smirked at the effect his words had on you. The rest of dinner the two of you talked about what had happened in the three weeks he was away. Loki, of course, had many stories that involved tricking and annoying Thor. Once you finished your meal Loki grabbed the plates and told you he was right back. He came back with a large slice of cheesecake the two of you shared. He told you proudly that he also made the dessert himself. When the two of you were finished you started to clean up, but Loki stopped you. He conjured up a blindfold and you looked questioningly at him.

‘I don’t want you to see just yet’ he mused.

You rolled your eyes but let him put on the blindfold. He steered you through the house. When he told you to stand still you felt him move in front of you. He undid the blindfold and once it was off he moved to the side.

‘Surprise’ he mused.

You gasped when you saw. Loki had set up an enormous blanket fort in your living room. There were blankets, large pillows and he had al kind of snack set up on the table. There was a string of light that gave the whole room a romantic vibe. The fort was placed so you could still see the tv, there were multiple DVDs laying in front of it. Next to de DVDs there were several board games.

‘Remember our first movie marathon and we spontaneously build a blanket fort?’

‘Of course I do. That was the night you asked me on our first official date.’ you whispered a bit overwhelmed by his surprise.

‘A date that went so terrible you actually told me that the blanket fort was a much better date’ he mused.

‘Well yeah, you got us kicked out of the restaurant before our starters even came. It was pouring outside and you lost the car key’ you laughed. ‘But walking in the pouring rain with you turned out to be fun’ you added.

Loki grabbed your hand and guided you to the fort. He sat down and put you between his legs. The rest of the night the both of you cuddled, talked a lot, and played the games. A few hours later you decided to put on a movie.

‘Thanks for the amazing evening. This night was really the best gift you could have given me’ you said hallway through the movie.

‘Did you really think that this was your gift?’ he said.

You squirmed out of his grasp. Loki overdramatically sighed but laughed at your giddy attitude. He reluctantly let you go, so you could bounce up and down, excited to see what he was about the give you. He conjured up a small dark green box. When you reached for it he pulled it away.

‘I think I deserve a kiss first’ he smirked.

You rolled your eyes but started to kiss him. Knowing Loki, he would demand another kissed so, you made out with him for a while. The moment he lowered his hands around your waist you grabbed the box.

‘And they say I don’t play fair’ he teased.

You ignored his comment and opened the box. Inside the box was a beautiful golden necklace with a snake on it. The snake was in a s-form and there was a tiny green stone for the eyes.

‘It’s beautiful’ you said.

Before Loki could reply you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. He just laughed at your action and took the box from you, once you were done. He took out the necklace and you turned your back towards him. You removed your hair and he fastened the necklace around your neck. When it was in place you turned around and Loki pulled you flush against him.

‘Thank you, for everything’ you said.

‘I’m glad that you liked it all’ he said to you.

You kissed him again, more slowly this time. Loki moved his lips with yours and you felt his tongue asking for permission. You opened your mouth and he slid his tongue inside, exploring every inch. You moaned slightly in the kiss. Your hands were under his shirt and his were caressing your upper body. You stopped kissing him and pulled his shirt over his head. For a moment you stared at him, and you noticed Loki slightly blushing under your gaze.

‘Let’s make this more fair’ he whispered.

He removed your shirt and unclasped your bra in one smooth motion. He laid you down on your back and started to kiss your neck. He moved lower and swirled his tongue over every inch of your breasts. You were extremely aroused and your nipples were hard by the time he was done. You were breathing fast underneath him. He brought his head up to yours and kissed you deeply. He laid on his side next to you. His hand slowly trailed from your cheek down to your breasts. He pinched your nipple, earning him a gasp from you. He moved lower and undid the button of your pants. You eagerly kissed him back and stroked his naked chest. His fingers slipped between your folds. Once his fingers were wet with your arousal he circled your clit. He swallowed every moan and whimper that left your lips with his own mouth.

You felt the pleasure wash over you. Loki slowly circled your clit until your orgasm had subsided. He retracted his fingers and licked them clean.

‘You look very pretty when you come undone for me’ he whispered in your ear.

He pulled of your pants and underwear. Once you laid naked before him he removed his own. When his erect cock sprung free you licked your lips. You wanted to get up, to suck his cock, but Loki laid you back down.

‘Tonight, is about you’ he said.

He was on top of you and stroked his erect cock against your wet folds and your clit. In one smooth motion he pushed himself inside of you. Your legs automatically hooked around his waist and Loki started a slow pace. His eyes didn’t leave yours, unless he was kissing your mouth, neck or whispering in your ear. He whispered how beautiful you looked, how much he loved you and how incredible you felt around his cock. Because of the slow movements and your wetness, you could really feel every movement he made. Every movement was deliberate, it really felt like you were the only thing that existed for him right now.

To your surprise he stopped. Before you could ask, he rolled the two of you around. You were on top of him and due to gravity felt his cock slid deeper inside of you. Hitting just the right spot. You started to ride him in the same slow pace as him. It truly was a sight to have Loki lay underneath you, moaning and praising you. Once you felt your orgasm build up, you started to ride him faster. His hands went to your bouncing boobs and he started to play with them. This was definitely the most intense sex the two of you ever had, normally there were a lot of games and Loki was an enormous tease. Loki started to moan shamelessly underneath you, but you were doing the same at this point. When he started to circle your clit with his fingers you came undone immediately. You felt Loki’s cock twitch inside of you and his seed spill. After a few more thrusts you collapsed half on top of him. Once your and his breathing had gone back to normal you pulled him out of you. He immediately grabbed you back and laid you close to his chest.

He was stroking your arms. Goosebumps were forming and you started to shiver a little. Loki grabbed a blanket form nearby and pulled it over the two of you. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck and pulled you as close as he could.

‘This really is the best birthday I ever had’ you said.

‘It’s far from over yet, love’ Loki said while starting the kiss your neck and trailed his fingers to your clit.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas​​ @theaudacitytowrite

[naminethewriter]

Hurt No One Knew About Epilogue: Hurt Only One Will Know About (For Now)

Masterpost | First | Previous | Ao3

Story Summary: Logan has been acting weird for the past few weeks and the others aren’t sure what to do about it. When Janus appears looking for Remus they strike a deal: He figures out what’s going on with Logan and afterwards they’ll help search for Remus.

Turns out the two problems are more connected to each other than anyone thought.

Content Warnings: Gross Food

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

Janus walks quietly down the hall, a thermos in hand. He had dropped off Remus in his room about eighteen hours ago and checked up on him twice since then – once after everyone at movie night had fallen asleep (yes, even Logan) and then again this morning – and the Duke had been snoring every time in the same position as before. Janus is willing to let him sleep even longer but he wants him to eat something at least. He doesn’t need it per se, they are just metaphysical after all, but it would help him regain his energy. It’s nearing lunchtime, so he figures this is as opportune a time as any.

 As he approaches Remus’ room, the snoring grows louder, which is oddly comforting for him in this moment. It’s something that usually annoys him but now it means that Remus is resting like he’s supposed to. Once he arrives at the neon green door splattered with blood, he carefully pushes it open. Remus is still lying in bed, on his belly, face turned to the side, drooling onto the pillow below him. Same position as this morning.

 Janus walks over to the curtains, letting the light in the hallway be the only thing to illuminate his path. It isn’t ideal but for Remus’ standards, the floor was rather clean, and Janus knows to wear shoes, so he doesn’t step into something he doesn’t want to step in. Like slime. Or puke. Or Lego bricks. He makes it to the window without much difficulty and tugs the curtain open enough to let a bit of light in without it flooding the whole room. Then he walks back to the door and closes it gently.

 He places the thermos on the nightstand when he takes a seat on the edge of Remus’ bed. The Duke hasn’t moved as much as a muscle since Janus came in, and he fears that waking him is going to take a bit but shaking his shoulder a bit does the trick. The snoring stops as Remus grumbles, turning his fact to the other side, away from Janus.

 “L’me al’ne,” he mumbles. Janus chuckles and taps his shoulder again.

“As much as I would love to leave you to create another puddle on your pillow, I need you to eat something, Remus.”

Slowly, Remus’ head turned back to Janus, and his eyes squint up at him.

 “That you, Janny?”

 “Yes, Remus, it’s me.”

 “How long was I out?” Remus asks as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. His comforter lies in his lap as he yawns. Only then does Janus remember that Remus didn’t even change the night before. He’ll insist he does that once he’s done eating.

 “Around eighteen hours. We got back from the Imagination around 6pm and now it’s noon.”

 “I see. Did Logan talk with you yet?”

 “No. We decided this morning to wait till evening because Thomas has plans that we need to help him with. And Logan insists that you are present as well and that you get as much rest as possible.”

 “He’s so kind,” Remus smiles, fiddling with the comforter in his lap. Janus watches him for a moment.

 “I must say,” he starts slowly, “I still have a few questions about what happened two weeks ago. But for now-“ He takes the thermos off the nightstand and hands it to Remus. “-drink this. You need to eat.”

 Remus accepts the thermos and screws off the lid before smelling what’s inside. His head snaps back to Janus.

 “You made me terror juice?!”

 “Yes,” Janus confirms, with slight disgust on his face. “I figured it wouldn’t be best to start with solids, so I went with this. Though I don’t know how nutritious it really is.”

 Remus takes a sip before excitedly asking: “What did you put in it?”

 “I don’t even remember all of it, but I started with some broth, a potato, an apple – core included, one of your deodorant sticks, a chicken leg-“

 “With the bone?”

 “Yes,” Janus confirms with a grimace. The sound the blender had made still sends shivers down his spine. “Mustard, I think and more, but that’s all I remember. I tried to only pay enough attention not to hurt myself.”

 “You did a good job! Could use more iron though. Next time put some screws in.”

 “I’ll try to remember that,” Janus says dryly. He doesn’t intend to make one of these ever again. They sit in silence for a bit while Remus enjoys the horror Janus had created.

 “How’s Lolo doing?” he eventually asks, holding onto the thermos in his lap with both hands.

 “He’s okay, I believe. He fell asleep with the others in the living room, and we all ate breakfast together which wasn’t entirely awkward. Once we agreed that we would talk about the issue this evening, he excused himself to survey the work you robot had been doing in his absence. I haven’t seen him since, but I know that Patton wanted to ask him to help with lunch.”

 “Good. That’s good,” Remus mumbles before taking another drink from his terror juice. Janus bites his lip.

 “Why did you do it, Remus?” he asks after a moment of deliberation. “I mean, I understand that you wanted to help Logan, but why that way? You knew what it would cost you?” Remus shrugs, not meeting Janus eyes.

 “I asked myself the same question while I was sitting down there. There were like at least three times where I considered just breaking the connection, but whenever I saw his face, I… I just couldn’t.”

 “And Lilith? I know how much you care for her, and it was obvious how much of a toll the situation put on her. Surely there were other options?”

 “I don’t know.” Remus shrugs again. “She was already there. She’s been staying there for a while to keep me company while I worked on perfecting the structure. It’s still a work in progress, you know. And I had already put Logan to sleep, and I didn’t want to wake him up again already. You should have seen the relief on his face when I pulled those emotions out of him. Like we were twenty again.”

 “What about Orange then? Why was he involved?” Remus blinks at Janus.

 “What are you talking about? He had nothing to do with it.”

 “Are you sure? Because Patton told me that when she was about to hit him, her eyes were glowing orange.” Remus grows quiet, rolling the thermos between his hands. His eyebrows are knitted together.

 “I don’t… I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him, I’m sure of it. If he got involved, then he did it without me knowing about it.” Janus frowns. He feels like a jigsaw puzzle lays in front of him and he only needs to fill a few more blank spaces, but he can’t find the last pieces anywhere. “He shouldn’t have been able to get into my pyramid without it triggering any kind of sensor, so he must’ve been there since before.”

 “You mean he’s been with Logan the whole time?”

 “It would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Remus shrugs. “I mean, Lolo’s always had a short temper, but it’s been getting worse recently. And if Orange is involved, then that would explain it, wouldn’t it? Why Logan has been even more stressed than usual.”

 “I suppose. I will need to talk with him about it.”

 “Good luck with that,” Remus snorts. “Finding that fucker is harder than killing an elephant with a needle. I haven’t seen him in person in months.”

 “I’m sure I can figure something out,” Janus mumbles, already thinking about possible strategies.

 “You do that.” Remus takes one last drink from his thermos before handing it back to Janus who sends it back to the kitchen with a wave of his hand. “Thanks for the juice, Janny. I feel better.” He moves to lie back down but Janus gently grabs his arm to stop him.

 “You should get changed, Remus. You’ve been wearing these the entire time, right? Maybe even take a shower?” Remus doesn’t hide the distaste on his face at the mention of the wet box but cannot really argue either. He is rather filthy. “It’s enough if you just do a quick rinse. I’ll change your sheets in the meantime.”

 “Fine, fine,” Remus agrees and swings his legs over the other edge of the bed than the one Janus is sitting on.  He wobbles a bit as he stands up and Janus is standing immediately, ready to rush over to help him, but Remus catches himself. “’m not a child, Jan,” he mumbles as he sees the worry on his friend’s face. Janus nods and lets him gather fresh clothes before he disappears into the adjacent bathroom. He stares at the door for a moment, afraid that he might hear Remus collapsing on the other side but soon the water turns on and Janus shakes himself out of his reverie. He should get to work himself.

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

 Remus is back in a freshly made bed not even five minutes later. Janus sits next to him, both leaning their backs against the headboard as they enjoy each other’s company in silence. Eventually, Remus speaks up.

 “I really am sorry for not telling you about what I was doing beforehand, Jan. I mean, I wouldn’t have shared the details with you since Lolo didn’t want anyone to know, including you, but I would have eased your mind about my longer absence.” Janus takes his hand and brushes his knuckles.

 “I appreciate the apology, Remus. I was really worried. Especially when all your creatures started attacking me.”

 “They did? Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” He frowns but Janus gently squeezes his hand.

 “Don’t think about it too much right now, nothing happened anyway. We’ll deal with it later.”

 “Yeah, you’re right. I’m still really tired.”

 “You should go back to sleep.”

 “I know.” Both of them remain where they are. They sit like that for another minute before Remus slips down, back under the covers and Janus moves back towards the edge of the bed.

 “Hey, Jan?”

 “Yes, Remus?”

 “I think… I think I’m in love with Logan.”

 “Oh.”

 “That’s a problem, isn’t it?” Janus doesn’t like how sad Remus sounds and he’s shaking his head before he even really thinks about it.

 “I wouldn’t call it a problem, Remus. It’s… a bit complicated, perhaps, but not a problem. But let’s figure out how to solve Logan’s issues with me and the others before we think about a planning a confession, okay?”

 “Yeah, okay.” Remus yawns and snuggles deeper under the covers. “Night, Jan.”

 “Sleep well, Remus.” The Duke is out like a light before Janus finishes his sentence. He remains seated for a few moments more. It’s not a problem, of course it isn’t. It might bring problems later, but for now, Remus can rest. And then they’ll fix their family. What comes after is not important for now. Janus gets up and walks to the door. He can leave the curtains open; the bit of light obviously isn’t disturbing Remus in the slightest.

 Janus hesitates in the doorway for another moment.

 “We’ll figure it out, Remus, I promise.”

 As quietly as he can, he closes the door behind him.

[turtle-go-brrrr]

4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting. 

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Fake dating Drabble No. 5

Today with Dave York and 2k (🤡) of being undercover married to him (F) because the neighbors are leaders of a terrorist organization. The leader get a little too handsy at the dinner you had been invited to and Dave does sell the jealous husband very, very well.  Steph’s fake dating Drabble week

Warnings: cursing, inappropriate touching, masturbation, implied sexual content

It wasn’t like you had a choice when the CIA decided that you had to go undercover. It wasn’t the first time and it most likely wouldn’t be the last. But three months in, without having anyone to talk to except your partner, or the neighbors who most likely were the most dangerous people you had ever encountered, it was starting to frustrate you that there was no new information you could provide. But tonight the neighbors had invited you and your partner over for dinner.

Oh yes. You also had to pretend to be married to Dave York, who was your partner for this mission. It didn’t help that you were spending all your time with a man that always seemed to be plotting murder whenever you caught him starring looking at you. These last months were hard. You weren’t used to living with someone, let alone pretending to be in love as soon as you left the walls of the CIA proofed house you were living in with him.

Dave York was a mystery not only to you, but to everyone at the CIA. You always felt a little uncomfortable every time he looked at you and you couldn’t place why. He was nothing but polite towards everyone, but there was something dark surrounding him. Like he knew more than everyone around him. Like he knew all the dirty secrets. Your dirty secrets.

But it also had it’s advantages living with someone. It was nice waking up to the smell of coffee, a mug waiting for you on the counter just as you liked it, while Dave was checking his mails on his laptop. Part of your undercover identity was being the devoted housewife while Dave played the role of the husband who worked as an accountant from home.

You knew he had been married before, but somehow you never felt comfortable to ask him any personal questions. He never asked you either. Every other day you found yourself sitting next to him on the sofa after dinner, his arm on the couch behind you, without touching you, while you watched some netflix together. So people who walked by your house could see that you were a perfectly normal married couple.

He always let you decide what to watch.

“What do you want to watch?” you had asked one evening.

“I don’t really care. I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Really? And here I thought you were a couch potato,” you had a glass of wine on that evening and you could have sworn you saw him hide a smile before you started a new episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

“You ready?” he asked through your closed bedroom door. You were occupying the master bedroom, while he slept in the guest room. You decided on a yellow summer dress for the dinner at your neighbors. You felt a little naked with your exposed shoulders and legs, but it was a hot day and it would make zero sense to be wearing something you could sneak your gun in. You knew Dave would be carrying a gun, he always did. And you had no choice but to trust him. Not that he had given you any indication as to not trust him.

You took one last look in the mirror before you walked towards the door and opened it. Dave looked at you, his eyes taking you in for a second before there was this twitch at his lips again. A small smile and this time you were sure of it and you had no idea how to feel about it.

“Come on, we gonna be late,” he said quietly.

He took your hand as soon as he locked the front door, a bottle of wine in his arm.

“If we’re lucky we are finally going to get some intel tonight. These fuckers are a suspicious bunch,” he said as he leaned closer to whisper. You nodded.

“I would be suspicious too if I was running a terrorist organisation from a suburban neighborhood.”

“True,” he chuckled, “You make sure to stay in sight. We don’t know what kind of people these are and I want you to be safe.”

“Aww are you worried about me, hubby?” you teased.

“No. I’m worried about them. I have no doubt that you could take them out if you want to.”

“Wow. That almost sounded like a compliment, Dave,”

“It was, just… Don’t try to be the hero. We knew this would be a longer mission and if we’re lucky tonight might finally be the start of getting things going.”

“I know,” you squeezed his hand and breathed in deep.

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded, plastering a fake smile on your lips as he knocked on the door.

Dave really could play the perfect husband. He even remembered what you were allergic to, making sure that no trace of parsley could be found on your plate. At one point he excused himself to the bathroom, giving your leg a squeeze. His hand had been placed on your knee as soon as you had sat down at the dinner table and it almost seemed like he needed some kind of connection to ground himself. You spend enough time with him to know that he was on edge ever since he came back from smoking with the man you knew to be the leader of this whole organisation you were here to get more information from.

His hand went up to your shoulder when he got up and to your surprise he leaned down to kiss your temple before he left the room. You were so surprised by this gesture you almost jumped when you felt someone sit down next to you.

“So… How long have you been married?” he asked. You looked at him, Bill, the man who was responsible for thousands of deaths. You smiled, remembering the story the CIA had manufactured for you.

“Second anniversary is coming up.”

“How did the two of you meet?” he asked and you felt his eyes growing cold. You were now being interrogated.

“That’s a silly story,” you laughed, shaking your head in played embarrassment. Bill only looked at you, waiting for your answer.

“Well we went to College together. We never really had much in common. He’s into numbers, I’m more creative. After college we went our separate ways but years after I needed an accountant for my business and his name popped up.”

“What kind of business?” he asked.

“I used to own a flower shop back in DC. I sold it once Dave got the job offer here.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Not really. Where he goes, I go. And I’m actually looking into opening a new one. Just looked at some properties last week.”

“That’s nice. If you need any help just say the word. I have connections in this city,” Bill nodded, getting closer. It took everything in you not to flinch as his hand came down on your thigh. Much higher than it was appropriate. You gulped.

“I mean it, if you need anything, just say the word,” he was so close now you could feel his nose on your cheek. Closing your eyes you thought about all the ways you could break his wrists within the next 15 minutes when you heard Dave call for you as he walked back into the room.

“Everything okay?” he asked. Bill only looked up at him, giving him a smirk, before he squeezed your leg and let go of you.

“Everything’s fine. We’re just getting to know each other, isn’t that right?” he asked. You nodded with a smile that hopefully didn’t look too pained.

“Great. Well I hate to cut this short, but we got an early morning,” Dave’s hand was on your shoulder and you turned your head to look up at him, your hand coming down on top of his.

“Oh, well. It was nice getting to know you,” Bill said. You got up from your seat and Dave’s arm sneaked around your waist immediately, bringing you closer to him and you let your head fall against his shoulder.

“Likewise,” Dave said, following Bill to the door.

“You’re a beautiful couple. Let’s do this again,” Bill said, his eyes lingering on you. You only nodded, thanking him before you let Dave lead you down the Driveway.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. You only nodded.

“If you would have come into the room 10 seconds later I would have blown our cover. Fuck he’s a creep.”

“He also is involved in way more shit than we originally thought,” he reached into the pocket of his pants, showing you a USB Flash Drive.

“What did you find?” you asked. He shook his head, looking over his shoulder.

“Not here,” he whispered. His arm around you tightened.

“He’s still watching?” you asked. He nodded. “Kiss me,” you whispered. Dave stopped walking and looked at you.

“You just saw someone touching your wife… I think we need to sell this better, I could feel him watching us all night.”

He breathed in deep, closing his eyes before they opened and he pushed you against the tree you just passed.

You couldn’t even take a breath before his lips crashed down on yours, his hand on the back of your hand, so he didn’t hurt you. He towered over you, his body pressed against your and you tried to suppress the moan at the feeling of his lips against yours but failed miserably. He used your surprise to dive his tongue into your mouth and your arms flew up to hold on to him.

“Dave…” you sighed.

“I’m right now playing a very, very fucking jealous husband sweetheart…” he groaned.

“Fuck…” you let your head fall back as his lip wandered down your neck. You felt his thigh between your legs.

“Is he still looking?” he asked, rubbing his thigh over your core.  You looked over his shoulder, seeing no one standing outside.

“No…” you gasped, rolling your hips. Fuck you were wet. He kissed you again, before he whispered against your lips.

“Good, then let’s go home.”

You were more than confused. As soon as you were back in the house, Dave let go of you and went to his room with a mumbled “Good night.”

You on the other hand were still trying to get your brain to slow the fuck down. You were undercover. This was all just an act. Right? Dave York was the best agent around and he knew what he was doing. You had to get your libido under control just because he kissed you once. Groaning to yourself you stripped off your clothes to take a shower. Which should only have taken a couple of minutes, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about Dave. How his lips felt, how his hands felt, how it would feel if he would push you against the wall and fuck you senseless.

“Fuuuck…” you moaned quietly, touching yourself, growing frustrated when you just couldn’t make yourself cum, knowing he was just down the hallway. Shaking your head you got out of the shower, drying yourself off, not bothering to change into your pajamas. You needed to cum. Getting out your vibrator your sighed, wondering how big Dave was when you opened the door and found the man in question sitting on your bed, looking at you with hungry eyes, asking:

“Need any help with that?”

[extasiswings]

Get in, clowns.  We’re going to the circus.  On ao3.

Eddie’s palms are sweaty.

It’s warm outside, the sun beating down on the park bench where he’s sitting, but it’s the nerves that have his hands clammy as he turns his water bottle over between them.  

When Buck had walked in the house earlier, he’d taken one look at Eddie and rolled his eyes before shoving him back into his bedroom.

“You can’t wear that,” Buck said, rifling through Eddie’s dresser.  He emerged with Eddie’s tightest pair of jeans and shoved them at his chest before turning to the drawers with shirts.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eddie asked, baffled as he looked down at himself and then, skeptically, at the jeans.

“You look like a dad.”  Buck’s voice went muffled for a moment before he made a noise of victory and pulled out a deep red, long-sleeved shirt that Eddie’s pretty sure is at least a size too small. 

“Kind of hard not to.  Since I am one and all.  That’s not exactly a secret.”

“Yeah, but you can look like a hot dad who is making an effort instead of a regular dad going to the grocery store or something.  You’ll thank me later.”  

After Eddie had changed and walked out of the bathroom, Buck’s face shifted—Eddie could have sworn his eyes darkened, that his voice was rougher as he pronounced Eddie much better.

So Eddie knows he looks good.

But his palms are still sweaty.  He uncaps the water bottle and takes a sip more to have something to do than because he needs it.  And then he starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, needing something to occupy them, some way to move.  

He’s tempted to pull out his phone, to reread the latest texts from Bobby or even the shameless teasing in the group text that Buck started with his sisters—and boy, was that a mistake, putting the three of them in touch, because Eddie never in a million years would have told them he was going on a date if he hadn’t done it by accident because Buck’s direct messages happened to be right below the group—

He’s still not sure he should be, is the thing.  Dating.  He still feels like he can’t quite breathe right when he thinks too hard about it.  Can still play that last dinner with Shannon over on loop, from her asking for a divorce to the implication that really being with him again would be so terrible she would have to run for the hills and leave their child behind.

He didn’t exactly have great self-esteem to begin with.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans—he’s in the middle of debating whether it’s bad parenting to make up an emergency involving your kid to get out of a date, when—

“Eddie!  Hi,” Ana greets, walking up the path.  

The anxiety in his chest twists tighter as he gets up from the bench and waves.

“Hey.  You, uh—you look really nice,” he says, because it’s true and also the easiest thing he can remember from the last time he did this.  

Ana smiles.  “So do you.”

There’s a pause that lingers a little too long and then they both start trying to speak at once, cutting off abruptly when they realize.  Eddie rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.

“Should we walk?” Ana offers, nodding down the path where it leads into the trees.

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie agrees.  

It’s actually not...bad.  She asks him about work and that’s a safe enough topic that he’s comfortable spending a few minutes telling her stories from the station.  She shares a little about the challenges of virtual teaching.  And then she asks about Chris, and, well, that’s an easy subject—Eddie could talk about Chris all day.  

He just finishes the story about the actual building of Christopher’s skateboard—which involved no small amount of comical trial and error on the part of two decidedly not Chris-sized grown men—when Ana gets a thoughtful look on her face and glances sideways at him.

“Can I ask you something personal?”  She asks.

Eddie rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in his pockets.  “Sure.”

“How long has it been for you?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up.  “Since...the last time I dated?”

Ana nods.

“Well…” He wets his lips to stall.  “The last person I dated was my wife.  And I’m not sure it was really dating in the same way after we were married so...I guess...eleven years give or take?”

He laughs and he can hear the edge of self-deprecation.  “That obvious I’m out of practice?”

“No,” Ana says.  “No, that wasn’t—it’s really not actually. Although it does explain some things.”

“Things?”

She bites her lip.  “Nothing bad,” she insists.  “Just—”

“Have you ever been on a date where the other person talked about their ex the whole time and it was kind of obvious they still had feelings for them and you couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t with the ex when they clearly wanted to be?”  She asks.

Eddie blinks, scrolling back through their conversation trying to think—he’s pretty sure he hasn’t mentioned Shannon except for the once.  And he’s not still—

“In high school, maybe?” He answers.  “But I’m not sure—”

“I was trying to figure out if you and Buck ever dated,” she clarifies, and Eddie stops in his tracks, his mind shorting out as he takes that in.

“I—what?”

They’re back at the parking lot anyway, and although they could take another loop around the park, Ana stops by the closest bench and smiles as she leans against it.

“Look, I like you, Eddie,” she says.  “And if I’m totally off base and you want to see me again, I will definitely pick up the phone.  But if I’m not?  I couldn’t not say something.”

“Buck’s my best friend,” Eddie replies.  His head is swimming but it surprisingly doesn’t feel bad.  More like he’s been handed the clue card for a puzzle he was trying to solve and while the pieces haven’t quite come together fully, they’re getting there.

“You talk about him like he’s your partner.  Like the three of you are a family.  And when you talk about him you look like…”  Ana shakes her head and laughs, but it’s not unkind.  Just soft and maybe a little longing.  “I would love for someone to look like that when they’re talking about me.  Thinking about me.  So, I thought you should know.  Just in case you didn’t.”

Another puzzle piece falls into place and Eddie sucks in a breath.

“I do like you,” he says.

“Yeah...but you’re in love with him.  Right?”  Eddie’s quiet and Ana nods.

“I’m gonna go,” she decides.  “This was nice, for the record.  Maybe we can do it again.  As friends next time.”

“Ana—” Eddie calls after her.  When she looks back over her shoulder though, he’s not sure what to say except, “...thank you.”

“Let me know how it works out?” She asks.  “I’m a little invested now.”

Eddie laughs and runs a hand through his hair.  “Yeah...sure.”  

He drives home in a daze, so much of the past two years—maybe even longer—suddenly thrown into new light.  Everything he’s been afraid of, everything that’s been holding him back—all of the baggage and insecurities that Shannon left behind, that have made him feel like he’s not good enough, like he can’t be a partner to anyone—

He never stopped and looked too hard at what he already had.  What he was already doing.

What he has.  What he is doing.   

With Buck.

In the stark glare of hindsight, it’s easy to see—he was still married when they met, was worn down and bruised and not looking for anything.  He needed a friend and Buck slipped in to fill that void and Eddie...put him in a box.  Put them in a box.  Carefully compartmentalizing every aspect of his life because it was easier that way, because it allowed him to sort through the tangled knots of expectation from any number of other sides, any number of other identities—husband, father, son.

There was no baggage attached to friend.  No forgive and forget and take your wife back because kids need their mothers or you’ll drag him down with you or I wasn’t enough.

There was just...Buck.  Present.  Supportive.  Caring about him.  Believing in him.   The real him—masks off, walls down, warts and all.   

The longer Eddie thinks, the clearer things become.  His mind flips through memories like a scrapbook—panic attacks and phone calls at two in the morning, nights on the couch playing video games with Christopher and the slower, lingering moments with just the two of them after they put him to bed, all those months sharing a bed in Buck’s apartment while he despaired over being away from his son and Buck reminded him he was a good dad—

How many of those nights had Eddie wanted to kiss him?  How many times had he felt that buzz under his skin, the whisper of it would be so easy, only to shove it down because it was too dangerous to deal with.  

And when he thinks now about the future, about having someone in his home, in his bed, in his life, when he pictures it, all he can see is Buck.

It feels right.

“I love him,” Eddie says out loud, tasting the words on his tongue, letting them linger.

I love him.

His pulse spikes with his anxiety, but it calms down as he sits with it.  Because he knows Buck’s not going to leave.  He trusts that.  Buck’s seen him at his worst and none of that has ever driven him away.  So maybe…

Eddie’s mind flicks back to earlier in the day, to the dark heat in Buck’s gaze as it dragged over him before he looked away.

...yeah.  They’ll be okay.

He’s home before he even really registers and takes a few slow breaths before he shuts off the truck and gets out.  When he steps through the door, it’s a strange feeling.  The space is familiar but not.  More...settled somehow.  Home.

Home.

Eddie closes the door behind him and follows the sound of running water to the kitchen.  He stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and spends a moment just watching Buck scrub potatoes in the sink until the other man glances up and notices him.

“Hey,” Buck greets.  “Chris is reading in his room, I’m just working on dinner.  How was the date?”

God, I love you, Eddie thinks, and nearly has to bite his tongue to keep it to himself.

Yeah.  It’s right.

He shrugs.  “It was fine.  Ana’s nice.”

“When’s the next date then?”  There’s an odd note in Buck’s voice that makes Eddie push off the frame and step closer. 

“There’s not going to be one,” he replies.  “Ana’s nice...but I don’t want to date her.”

Buck stops.  Shuts off the water and turns, leaning back against the sink.

“No?”  Buck’s brow furrows.  “It’s not—do you still feel like you’re not ready?”

“No, it’s not that,” Eddie replies.  “I do think I’m ready.  But with the right person.”

His heart is pounding in his chest, but it’s not fear.  More...anticipation.  

He swallows hard.

“Ana said something that made me realize that...I don’t want to start from scratch with some stranger.”

Eddie takes another step closer and Buck inhales sharply, emotions shifting across his face too quickly for Eddie to name them all.

“Eddie…”  Buck sounds hoarse, a little disbelieving.  He leans forward for a moment before shaking his head, clearing his throat.

“I can’t—I need you to be specific,” he says.  “Because I can’t make assumptions here, I can’t—”

Eddie kisses him.  Steps in far enough that Buck’s body presses flush against his, slides his hand around the back of Buck’s neck, and kisses him.  Buck makes a small noise and grips him right back, his hands curving around Eddie’s hips nearly tight enough to bruise in sharp contrast to the way Eddie’s mouth feathers against his, soft as anything.  

“Specific enough?”  Eddie breathes, staying close enough that their lips brush again.  Buck surges up and uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to turn them, pinning Eddie against the counter as he kisses him again in response.  Once, twice, three times, and Eddie shivers.  

He hasn’t been kissed in so long, hasn’t been touched with intention like this—he’d forgotten what it felt like.  His body floods with heat as Buck’s hands slip under his shirt, spreading wide over his rib cage, and he parts his lips eagerly for Buck’s tongue.

Down the hall, a door closes, and Buck jumps back, Eddie slumping against the counter to keep himself upright.  Buck is flushed and panting and Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t look much better, too warm and electric, wanting, wanting, wanting—

Both of them catch their breath and watch the door, but Christopher doesn’t appear.  After a minute Eddie catches the faint sound of a toilet flushing and he looks back at Buck.  

And he laughs.  It bubbles up from his chest like champagne fizz, bright and warm and right, and apparently it’s contagious because Buck starts up as well, stepping in again and sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, ducking his head to laugh breathlessly against Eddie’s neck.

When they calm down, Buck stays close, his lips feathering over Eddie’s pulse.  Eddie hums and closes his eyes as he tips his head back to give Buck better access.  

“I’m in love with you,” he says.  “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Buck’s lips curve up against Eddie’s skin.

“Well that’s convenient,” he replies.  “Since Chris was asking me earlier why you couldn’t just date me if you were going to date again.”

Eddie’s startled into another laugh.  “Really?”

“Really.”

Eddie grins and opens his eyes again.  “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Go out with me?”

Buck snorts and pushes him out of the way so he can go back to the potatoes.  

“Help me finish getting dinner together and we’ll see.”  But the second Eddie turns away, Buck snags him by a belt loop and reels him back in for another kiss.

“Yes,” Buck says.  “Yes.”

And it’s right.           

[collecting-stories]

Shit Talk - JJ Maybank

Request: Hi !! can i please get a boyfriend JJ Maybank x kook!reader, she decides its time for JJ to meet her kook friends knowing that they’ll like him but they ended up liking him a little too much because all they did was flirt & compliment him and they also kept embarrassing reader infront of JJ to make them seem better than her? Basically fake friends trying to steal your gorgeous boyfriend out of jealousy and reader starts to cry because of this and JJ gets angry!! 😭❤️❤️

Outer Banks Masterlist

-

JJ slammed the door on your suv as he got out, eyes already on the large plantation style home you were parked in the horseshoe driveway of. Despite the sunglasses he was wearing he shielded his eyes as he stared at the opposing building. “Can we talk about why you’re forcing me to come to this party if you hate all the people here?”  

“Cause they’re my friends from school. Sarah will be there too, I don’t hate Sarah.” You reasoned, grabbing the card for your friend’s birthday and making sure you had everything else on you. Keys tossed to JJ over the hood of the car as you slammed your own door shut. He slipped the lanyard around his neck.  

“No, but you constantly bitch about everyone else.”

“It’s cause they’re the worst.” You shrugged. And they were truly the worst people you knew. Like all the mean girls from every teen drama rolled into one ultimate evil entity, these girls were literal demons but you were obligated, through school hierarchy and the desire to not ruin your social standing, to attend social gatherings like birthday parties. And you’d been blowing them off lately to spend all your time with JJ.  

“But we’re going?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so confused.” JJ confessed, “you know if you don’t like someone, don’t hang out with them.”

“Says the most likable person I know.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the front door.  

“Hey, just cause everyone likes me but that doesn’t mean I hang out with people I don’t like. Except you…but I really needed a new phone so-“  

You stopped to turn and smack his arm, a fake gasp leaving your lips as if you were truly offended by his teasing. “JJ! Shut up. You’re such a jerk.”

“And yet you like me.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged, “I’m good at faking it.”

“I’ve seen you with people you don’t like…you’re incapable of fake nice.” He replied.  

“Prepare to be amazed.” You leaned up, closing your eyes and pressing your lips to his for a kiss only to be interrupted by the door opening and the distinct squeal of your most hated friend. You pulled away and turned around so fast you practically gave yourself whiplash.  

“Oh my god you made it!” Scarlett bounced out of the house, wide smile on her face as crossed the threshold and wrapped you in a tight hug. Despite dry hair and skin that looked like she’d just applied a layer of body shimmer her bikini was slightly damp against your cover-up.  

“Hey! So sorry we’re late I was halfway out the door when I saw myself in the bathing suit I was gonna wear and had to change…it was not cute.”  You lied, returning the hug. You’d pit stopped first to buy a last-minute card and take money from the atm and then to get coffee. As you had reasoned with JJ, there was no way you were surviving this pool party without caffeine in your system.  

“Lies, you look good in everything.” Scarlett insisted though she’d definitely sung a different tune in the past. Her eyes landed on JJ as she stepped back and she smiled, “whose this?”

“Oh, duh, this is my boyfriend JJ, I figured when better to introduce everyone than at Ashley’s party.” You offered, stepping aside so you weren’t blocking him.  

“For sure,” She did a once over of him like he was merchandise and JJ only smiled, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying anything you would be pissed at him for. He would save his comments for the sanctity of the car. “Well I’m Scarlett, there’s a lot of people here so if you forget just let me know and I’ll tell you.”  

“Awesome.” He replied. Scarlett grabbed his free hand, pulling him away from you and beginning to drag him inside the house as you followed behind. He looked back at you, mouthing an ‘I’m gonna kill you.’

‘Airpods’ You mouthed back, ‘and you love me.”

He shook his head, a grim expression on his face but you knew he was only joking.  

-

Despite the entire crowd being contained to the outside pool deck and yard you lost Scarlett and JJ relatively easily. Or, Scarlett lost you so she could spend quality time cozying up to your boyfriend. While you felt bad leaving him to the wolves while you found the drink table and chatted with Sarah, you weren’t too worried about him otherwise. You had heard all about JJ’s past womanizing from a wealth of jealous pogues but you didn’t have any doubt that he was faithful.  

He was a great boyfriend, better than any guy you’d dated before. Too good to be subjected to a round table of Scarlett, Ashley, and their friends. So you grabbed yourself a drink and headed over to save him.  

“Oh my god and one time-” Scarlett’s voice died off as she saw you getting closer to them and she smiled at you in faux excitement, “oh hey!”

“Hey,” you nodded at her before turning to look at JJ, “hey there you are.”  

“We were just getting to know JJ. You know, vet him and all.” Scarlett replied, leaning over her armrest to grab JJ’s arm. He shrugged her off and shifted in his seat.

“Exciting.”

“You wanna sit?” He asked, tilting his head back to look at you, pleading eyes begging you to sit down.  

“Oh I don’t think there’s a chair.” Ashley piped up, looking around the table. Four other girls occupied the chairs around them.  

“No problem, I’ll make do.” You tapped on the arm of JJ’s chair, smiling at Ashley when he moved the chair so that you could comfortably sit on his lap. He put and arm around your waist to keep you secured and laid a kiss on the side of your neck.  

“Oh, good.” Scarlett forced a smile, jaw tense. “Anyway, I was just telling JJ, do you remember that time in 8th grade when we went on that double date to the ice rink on the mainland.”  

You paled almost immediately. She was really going to play that game. “Uh…no.”  

“Oh my god!” Scarlett turned more toward JJ, wide smile on her face, “First of all, she was so chubby in 8th grade like thank god for hitting the gym and doing those CrossFit classes cause you looked like a potato. Plus she ate like everything! Do you remember that? You had like a hotdog and fries and ice cream and then we were skating and she said she didn’t feel good and she blew chunks all over the guy! Who was it, I can’t remember his name?”  

“I have no idea.” You replied.  

“Oh my god I totally remember that!” Ashley laughed. “Someone videoed it and put it up on the school’s insta...it was hilarious.”  

“Doesn’t really sound it.” JJ said, grip tightening.  

“You’re way cuter than he was anyway,” Ashley mentioned, “I think he was like a family friend or something. And you’ve stuck it out too, how long have you guys been dating?”  

“Three months.”  

“It’s good it’s the summer. You can get out before you have to experience hibernation weight.” Scarlett added and the other girls around the table laughed at the joke. You smiled nervously, trying to look unbothered by what they were saying. You should have known that the moment you sat down the attack would start, Scarlett had her eye on JJ the minute she walked out of the house.  

“What?” JJ was not laughing.  

“Oh my god, I don’t know what she does but she always gains like…what is it? Like 15 pounds?”

“Yeah.” You nodded.  

“Like 15 pounds in the winter.”  

“Yeah get her while she’s still cute cause you are way too hot to spend time stuck with someone who bloats up every winter.” Ashley replied.  

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you around, Ashley’s right you’re super hot.”  

Suddenly Ashley smiled, reaching across the table to tap the space in front of you and get your attention. “Oh, oh my god do you remember okay, so this one time-“  

“Actually, I gotta go. I got work.” JJ said, cutting her off. He bounced his knee to signal for you to get up, “babe,”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll see you guys later.” You stood, trying to remember if JJ had told you that he had a shift today. You couldn’t think but then your mind was swimming with their insults. You were only vaguely aware of JJ grabbing your hand.  

“Seriously? You’re ditching in the middle of the party?” Scarlett asked, offended that he was leaving and even more so that he was leaving with you.  

“Yeah well,” JJ shrugged, looking over at her, “if I stay any longer I’ll probably punch one of you in the mouth so, not really in the mood to sit around and listen to you bullshit about my girlfriend.”  

“We were just joking!” Ashley insisted, “Weren’t we joking?”  

“I wasn’t laughing.” JJ replied. He tugged on your hand when you didn’t move, “come on.”  

The two of you excited the backyard and made it all the way to your car, JJ slipping in the driver’s side as you sat in the passenger seat, still trying not to have an absolute meltdown in front of him. And in front of the security cameras they would probably check later just to see if they made you cry.  

“Thanks…” You muttered, leaning against the window.  

“You weren’t kidding, they are the worst.” JJ replied as he backed down the driveway. In the santity of the car he could say what was actually on his mind and it was extensive.  

“I know.” You did know, you’d been dealing with it since you were in kindergarten and Scarlett told you that you had fat thighs. “Scarlett’s known me forever so she has years of embarrassing stories.”  

JJ nodded. He took one hand off the wheel and reached over to hold your hand. “You know I think you’re beautiful right?”  

“Yes.”  

“Yes you know and believe me or yes I don’t want to talk about it anymore so I’m agreeing with you?” He asked, glancing over at you.

You bit your lip to stop from smiling, “if you know which one it is, why are you asking?”

“Cause I want it to be the first one?” He said. “Those girls are seriously the worst.”  

“Well I hang out with them less now that Kie goes to school with me but I still have to see them sometimes. I can’t avoid it.”

“Yeah I know.”  

“Thanks for coming, and for saying you’d punch them in the mouth.” You said, laughing a little as you recalled the horrified look on Ashley’s face when he said that.  

“Them and anyone else who talks shit on you.” He replied.  

-

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[autisticlalna]

Lanable!

LALNABLLEEEEEEE yes yes yes

first impression: oh god it's been so long.. stabby stabby evil man. malicious manipulator that wants the buddies dead and has a diabolical plan. very cardboard villain (this is super obvious if you read my old wellcatchyou stuff lmao) impression now: pathetic wet cat of a man. he WISHES people took him seriously. still very dangerous when cornered but honestly he just wants to be left alone and do his evil plans in peace. Not Harmless but also if you dodge and weave your way close to him there are cracks in the persona. lalnabrain hellctor favorite moment: "TIME..... IS A HEXAGON" is extremely silly and is literally just an offhanded quip from when duncan and kim got confused about how in-character they are right now but also i love it. it's so goofy. a more serious moment is.. probably the entirety of his appearance in Burn? like we finally get to see him in action and he does SO much damage. showstopper moment. man i need to rewatch that idea for a story: i've been sitting on an idea for YEARS now in the work a miracle continuity that's about hector breaking into yoglabs and ending up in the reflecting pool from hypercubed. y'know, where livid is stored. the backup of who lalnable used to be. things go well (they do not) unpopular opinion: the story does work best with lalnable being the original. it's the bait-and-switch that shakes up the status quo, that calls into question everything about the lalnas, and GOD i wish more was done with it in-series. which is really funny because before 2.0's finale i was really annoyed at the "lalnable is the original" theory but then the time gate scene happened and i went OH. THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME ACTUALLY. favorite relationship: him and five are a riot. they're playing hot potato with the braincell but also he would kill for them even if they keep doing more and more absurd accents every time he leaves them alone for longer than 5 minutes. sliding further into my Bullshit Corner: hector and kakujo are Best Friends and hector does not have a choice in this and my fav part of the hec n jo show is honestly, like, the intro part where kakujo barges his way into hector's life and will not leave him alone and decides to hug this bloodstained stranger because he noticed he's having a brain hell episode. i want whatever these two have going on favorite headcanon: he started leaning into the murder persona after having that reputation forced onto him by yoglabs and then it evolved into like, a weird reclamation thing but also he just has FUN with it. he likes being stabby! he loves his evil laugh! he doesn't see himself as one but sometimes you need to play the villain

[multifandomrandomgirl]

I Thought You Were Dead - Lupin!reader x Sirius Black

"Avada Kedavra!" Rodolphus Lestrange shot the killing curse at me, I narrowly missed it, the spell passing my arm, I collapsed to the floor, pretending to be dead. I heard the Death Eaters leave the street, that's when I decided that I'd disappear for a while, just until things calmed down.

I was on my way to Godric's Hollow that evening to meet James and Lily's son for the first time when Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy had attacked me. I was meeting my brother there as well, then I was due to stay at his.

I thought about it hard and then I felt the change, I had turned into my Animagi form, I was unregistered so the Ministry couldn't figure anything out. I spread my wings out and flew as far away from the West of England as I could get before my wings ached.

I found a tree and looked around. Welcome to Abergavenny. A sign read, even in my Little Owl form I could read the sign. I was in Wales.

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

For the next fifteen years, I lived in trees around Abergavenny. I found a copy of The Daily Prophet lying around saying that Sirius Black's name had finally been cleared. Cleared from what? I don't know, this was the first Wizarding paper I had seen since that night fifteen years ago when the Death Eaters attacked me.

Apparently Black had got his old family home back again, which gave me an idea, maybe I could fly across and see if he is there or not.

I found a mouse to eat before setting off on the journey to London, to find Sirius. On the flight across, I wondered how my brother, Remus, was. I hadn't seen him since the month before the attack, he had no clue what had happened unless The Daily Prophet had covered it.

I felt bad, I could have at least sent him a letter in my animagus form, to let him know that I was alive and okay.

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

Once I reached the Black Residence, I pecked on the door as hard as I could, I could hear footsteps getting closer and closer and then it opened, Molly, a girl who was in my brothers year at Hogwarts opened the door. "Come in little owl! You must be cold and wet!" She exclaims, letting me fly in, the rain had not long started.

"Who is it, Molly?" Sirius asks, poking his head around the door. "An owl, it's odd though, it's carrying a copy of The Daily Prophet from three days ago." I perch on her arm as she takes to through to the kitchen. I hadn't told anyone about being an animagus so no one would recognise me.

"Where'd the owl come from?" A boy who looked a lot like James Potter asked Molly. " I don't know." She says, I spot my brother and immediately fly over to him and land on his arm, giving him a peck on his hand for affection. "It seems to like you though Remus." Bill grins.

I hoot a little as Remus strokes over my feathers, god I'd missed him. "Where are you going little owl?" He asks as I hop off of him and onto the floor. I thought about my true appearance, my human form and for the first time in fifteen years, I was human again.

"Lola? I thought you were dead!" Remus jumps out of his chair and pulls me into a hug. "I know, I'm sorry. I had to disappear though, it was my only option then." I cry into my older brothers shoulder.

"What really happened? The Ministry said that you were killed by Death Eaters and then they hid your body." Remus pulls an extra chair out and sat me down. "Well, I was on the way to Godric's Hollow to visit James and Lily, like we all were to visit their new child, and on the way, I was stopped by Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, they all started firing killing curses at me after I refused to tell them where the Potter's were hiding." I start.

"Then Rodolphus fired another, it barely missed my arm but I faked being dead, so they left. Then as I'm an unregistered animagi, I switched forms and then have lived in Abergavenny ever since. This is the first time I've been in human form since that night." I sigh. "I'm so sorry Lola. How'd you know that we were here?" Remus puts a hand on my shoulder.

I pointed at the copy of The Daily Prophet that I had brought with me. "That, someone had dropped it. It felt good seeing one again, I hadn't seen a copy of it lying around since, well, since when I left. Speaking of which Sirius, what does it mean by you finally got your name cleared? I've had no news at all for fifteen years." I turn to look at the other man.

"Well, the year after you died- I mean disappeared, Peter Pettigrew sold the Potter's out to the Dark Lord, their hiding place and everything. The Dark Lord then killed the Potter's, but their son, Harry, survived. I apparated across as soon as I heard the news, Pettigrew killed twelve muggles with a single curse and then cut his own finger off and ran off, in his animagi form. I then got arrested for it and spent the next twelve years in Azkaban." Sirius explains the whole story.

"Wow. I'm so sorry about your parents." I turn to the boy who looked just like James. He gives me a small smile. "Oh, you don't know who I am, do you? Remus! I'd have thought that you would have at least told the boy about me!" I joke before introducing myself to him.

"I seriously thought you were dead Lola please don't ever do that to me again." My brother says, hugging me again. "I know, I apologise. I was going to write and send it using my animagi form but it was too dangerous, I didn't know what the Ministry had said about me and if word got out to the Death Eaters then I would have been gone for good. And I didn't know where you were living at the time so..." I trail off.

"Don't worry about that. All that matters is that I have you back now and I won't let you out of my sight." I study Remus' face, there were tears rolling down it. I use my now way to small cloak to wipe his tears away. "We need to get you new cloaks and probably a wand as well." He says.

"I don't need it," I say. "Why not?"

"It's probably best if I live as an owl, for now, considering that Sirius said that the Death Eaters and you know who is on the rise again. I don't want to risk anything, it isn't worth it." I smile weakly at my brother. "You can live here with us!" Sirius offers. "Thank you, Pads, that means sometimes I can be human again." I grin.

"I can't believe I wasn't with you that night, I-I could have fought them off." He blabbers, I stop him. "They'd have killed you too. They took my wand and snapped it so I couldn't fight back." I sigh.

I catch Dumbledore whispering something to Severus and him nodding in agreement. "Well, I'll get dinner started! I'm sure you all, especially Lola must be hungry!" Molly stands up, Professor McGonagall and what looks like Molly's daughter go and help her.

"Definitely, I've lived off of rodents, beetles and other small mammals for the past fifteen years, I can't remember what real food tastes like." I laugh, it was a dry, raspy laugh as I hadn't used my voice for fifteen years.

"Ew!" Another boy, who looked like Molly and Arthur, exclaims. "How about we make you live off of that diet Ron?" Two identical twins giggle. "Can you tell me who everyone is, I only recognise Bill Weasley out of the younger people, I've not seen Molly since he was born," I whispered to Remus.

He points everyone out, including people I already knew, just to refresh my memory. "Thank you, big brother." I smile, not too long later, Molly and the other two are done cooking dinner, which was mashed potato and chicken.

"Thank you, this is amazing. It's so nice to eat proper food again." I wolf done my plate. "You're welcome." Molly smiles. "Lola, slow down, you're going to-" I cut my brother off by coughing violently. "-choke." He finishes, helping me out.

"Thanks, Remmy." I grin, wiping my mouth. "Don't call me that and calm down yeah? No need to eat so damn quickly." Remus shakes his head. "Wouldn't you be excited though to finally eat proper food and not rodents and beetles and stuff?" I ask him. "I know where you're coming from. Azkaban doesn't feed you well and when I escaped and before I got my name cleared, I was living in my animagi form, eating whatever I could find."

"Thank you, Sirius!" I exclaimed, happy that someone got my point. He smiles up at me before I turn back to Remus. "See my point Remmy, human food is much nicer than the food I've lived off of for fifteen years."

"Okay okay! Just stop calling me Remmy." He groans. "What about Rem?" I ask. "No!"

"What can I give you as a nickname then?" I giggle. "You can use his nickname from school. Moony!" Sirius suggests. "Great idea! Thank you!" I grin. "So Moony, you see my point now?" I stuff the last mouthful of food into my mouth.

"I'll go wash up, once you're done, bring your plates through!" I stand up and head towards the sink."Lola, don't, I'll do it." Molly says. "Nope, you, Ginny and Professor McGonagall cooked, I'll clean."

"Lola, it's Minerva to you now, I'm no longer your teacher." McGonagall laughs. "Sorry Professor- I mean Minerva!" I start to run a sink full of water. After I'd finished washing everyone's plates and the pots up, I sit back down next to my brother.

"So, owl life eh?" Moody asks me. "Yeah," I reply. "How was it?" He asks. "It was decent until the male owls took some uh interest into me." I roll my eyes at the thought. "Haha, that must have sucked."

"Yep."

"So Lola, you'll be sharing a room with your brother, for now. You may join the Order if you wish, but stay undercover as an owl." Professor Dumbledore smiles at me. "Alright. I will join the Order, considering this time I am old enough." I say. "Good. We'll have you spying on people because you are unregistered, right?" I nod. "And if we need to reach Harry or anyone in or out of Hogwarts, we'll rely on you to deliver messages as an owl, it's less risky than using one of our own, no one will know who you belong to."

"Great!" I say I feel Remus wrap an arm around me protectively. "Don't worry dear brother, I won't get myself hurt or anything," I say. "I know. I'm just worried after the accident fifteen years ago. I really don't want to lose you again."

"I know, I'll be fine though. I'm thirty-five now, that's only a year younger than you." I reassure him. "You're still my little sister though." He says. "Yes I know, I'll always be your little sister, I can't really change that." I pat him on the back.

"Well, it looks like it's time for me to turn back into an owl," I say after half an hour of discussing things that I have missed in the past decade and a half. "I love you, Lola." Remus mumbles. "I love you too."

Then I transformed back into an owl. "We'll go and get some mealworms tomorrow for you," Hermione says. I flap my wings and sit on Remus's knee. It made me happy to finally see him again. He cups me in his hands and holds me close to his chest, stroking my feathers gently.

Remus was overprotective of me at Hogwarts when we were younger, goodness knows how protective he'll be now, now he knows what really happened.

I gently pecked his face, as if I was kissing it. "Hey man, can I hold her? I want to tell her something." Sirius says, Remus nods and hands me over to him.

"Hey, avoid the other owls, the male ones are a little... "He couldn't finish his sentence because an owl swoops down and starts to rub himself against me. "Pigwidgeon! No!" Ginny showed the owl away.

"Just be careful, yeah?" Sirius sniggers, I peck his hand hard out of annoyance. " Ouch, Moony! Your sister pecked me. "I can see why she'd do it, if I were an owl then I'd peck your eyes out."

"Don't give her ideas!" Sirius squeaks. I give a weird sounding hoot, which was meant to be a laugh but oh well, Remus gave me a weird look. "What's it like having an owl for a sister?" Sirius joked. "Well, I also have a dog for a best friend so you know." Remus laughs, taking me back off of Sirius.

Sirius transforms into a dog and barks at me, I hoot back loudly. He tries to lick me so I peck his ear. "Ouch, Moony, your sister's a bully." Sirius whines, turning back into his human form and rubbing his ear. I give a little-satisfied hoot before settling myself onto Remus' shoulder and snuggling into his neck.

"Isn't it a bit weird though? Having her living as an owl." Ron asks. "Ronald! It's for her safety." Molly whacks him over the head with a tea towel. I jump off of my brother and switch forms. "That's rich coming from you, you slept with Peter Pettigrew every night for years." I snort.

"So?" He glares. "It's no different, he's an animagus as well. And he slept in your bed with you." Remus pulls me down. "Idiot, it's not like I knew he was an animagus whereas Remus now does know you're an animagus. Wanker, coming in and ruining stuff." Ron mumbles. "Excuse me, what was that?" I gasp. "I SAID YOU RUINED EVERYTHING, NOW GET OUT." He yells.

I transform back into an owl and fly out of an open window. I hovered by it to hear the argument that raged on inside.

"RONALD! THAT WASN'T VERY NICE!" Molly screams. "Mum calm down, I'll go and find her." Bill stands up, Charlie and a girl called Nymphadora follow him out of the door. I fly higher up so I don't get seen. "What if I never see her again? I don't want to lose her again." My brother cries.

"They'll get her back, don't worry Moony." Sirius comforts him. "I hope so Padfoot. Fifteen years was long enough without her. I failed mum and dad, I promised to protect her, then I lost her." He Sobs. "You haven't failed anyone."

You never failed me or mum or dad don't worry Remus. You were a great big brother. I think. "Ron, apologise to Remus. You're the reason his sister is gone." Arthur snaps. "Well she shouldn't have interfered should have she?"

"I'm going to bed." Remus sighs. I looked down at the ground, I could see the Weasley brothers and Tonks below me. "Have you found her?" Sirius asks, coming out and joining them. I silently fluttered to directly above him and pooed into his hair.

"Accio Owl." Charlie sniggers, I land into his arms. "LOLA LUPIN! YOU RUINED MY AMAZING HAIR!" Sirius screams once we got inside. "Scream again and I'll shit in your hair again." I giggle, turning back into my owl form. "Oh no, you won't." Sirius uses magic to get rid of the poo before turning into a dog and chasing me upstairs into the room that Remus was staying in.

My wings began to ache so I landed on the bed, Sirius jumped up on top of me and barked. "Sirius, shut up." Remus groans. The dog licks my face, he goes to lick me again but I get there first and peck his nose. He whines a little and I hoot happily.

I transform back into my human form, Sirius still on top of me. He licks my face again before transforming into human form as well. "Well Miss Lupin, have you learnt your lesson?" He straddles me, moving his face closer to mine and whispering.

"I guess I have Mister Black," I smirk up at him, he leans down and kisses me, moving to my neck and starting to take off my top. I moan slightly when he hits a certain place on my neck, he smirks at me and continues to suck that part of my neck.

"Lola quit moaning, I want to go to sle-." Remus got off of his bed. "Sirius Orion Black, get the fuck off of my sister, now!" He yells, Sirius scampers out of the room and my brother comes to sit next to me. "Did he hurt you? What happened? Why was he on top of you? Are you oka-" My brother starts. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say.

"Sirius was on top of you- he was making out with you," Remus says. "So? What if I liked it?" I grin. "You little shit. First, you disappear for fifteen years and now you're practically having sex with my best mate. I'm disgusted in you. Get out."

I will myself into owl form and fly as quickly as I can, out of the room, bumping into Charlie on the way. "You okay?" He asks. I turn back into my human form. "Yeah, Remus kicked me out of the room because of stuff." I say.

"Lola, I still can't believe you." I hear Remus' voice getting closer. "Sleeping with Sirius, what were you thinking?" Charlie glances at me, Sirius runs up the stairs and grabs my arm.

"My wardrobe, owl form quick." I switch and he puts me on his arm, covering me with his cloak. "There you go." Sirius places me into his wardrobe. I hoot a thank you to him before he closes the doors on me.

"Hey Padfoot, have you seen my sister?" Remus asks. "No." Sirius answers. "Shit."

"Why do you need her?" Please don't speak. "I need to speak to her regarding something. I'm not impressed with her."

"Or you for that matter." Remus mutters. "What was that?" Sirius asks. "I'm not impressed with the fact that you were on top of my baby sister and kissing her, Black." Remus says, "Why ever not Moony?" I can practically hear Sirius smirk. "It's wrong!" Remus says.

"Well, Remus, when two people-" Sirius begins. "Yes, I fucking know, just why my sister? No one has seen her in fifteen years and the moment she reappears, you take that opportunity to sleep with her!" There was a door slam, and then silence. The wardrobe door opened and Sirius picked me up and placed me gently on his bed. "I'm sorry." He mumbles.

"It's fine, don't worry about it." I put my hand on his shoulder. "But I-" Sirius begins. "What if I liked it?" I wink and leave Sirius alone in his room.

I go and sit in the kitchen. "You good?" Charlie asks me. I nod. "Yeah, I think Remus is out to murder Sirius though." I giggle. "Ah."

"Lola." Remus appears in the doorway. "Remus." I stare at him. "I-" We both try to speak. "You first." I say, Remus sits down next to me.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just scared something bad's going to happen to you again. I'm scared of losing you." He says. "I understand, I went off the radar completely and then began to get comfy with someone I haven't seen for fifteen years, I'm sorry." We both go to hug each other.

"Aww, the Lupin's are back to being happy siblings again." Sirius coos. "Shut it Black."

"What even happened in the first place?" Kingsley asks, settling down in his chair, readying himself for the tale. Sirius grins and opens his mouth. "Well, after Lola and I played 'chase', I may have kissed her and some stuff and Remus lowkey flipped about it."

He explained some more of the story in detail, Charlie and Kingsley snigger at points of the story, particularly when it got to the part about him straddling me on the bed and then hiding in his wardrobe to hide from Remus.

"Sirius! Did you have to go into that much detail?" I screech when he said something inappropriate, he shrugs at me, a smirk forming on his face. I switch to my animagus form and fly at him, trying to peck his face. Sirius switched form too and I flew after him. "LOLA, SIRIUS, STOP!" Remus sighs, rubbing his hand over his face before chasing after us.

I see blood dripping down the side of Sirius' face. "Lola, what did you do to him?" My brother grabs my wing, I try to peck his hand to try and free myself from his grasp. "Petrificus Totalus." Remus points his wand at me. "Remus, you did not just petrify your sister, did you?" Molly gasps in horror as Remus holds my stiff owl body in his hand.

"Ah, whatever. She'll be fine." He waves it off as if it was no big deal, the little shit. "Pads, I need you to transform back." Remus orders Sirius, tossing my on the sideboard as if I was an inanimate object. Sirius does as he is told and Remus Padfoot's ear, wiping the drying blood off of it. "Lola, you've taken a small chunk of his ear off." Oops, well. He deserved it.

"I'll take care of Sirius, Remus. Don't worry." Molly shuffles past my brother, picking up Sirius. "Thank you, Molly."

Remus POV

I pick the owl up from the sideboard and carry her upstairs into the room we're sharing. "Finite." I mumble, she becomes unstuck and quickly transforms back into a human. "Lola, you took out a chunk of his ear." I glare at her. "I know, I'm sorry." She glances at the floor, I feel slight guilt for petrifying her, but she deserved it.

"You need to think about what you have done Lola, otherwise I might petrify you again." I giggle, I glance at the girl once more before exiting the room and going downstairs.

Lola POV

I lay on my bed and pull my duvet over my eyes, wanting to go to sleep after the long, eventful day I had had. After laying in silence for ages, the bedroom door opens and in walks my brother and Tonks. I roll my eyes under my duvet and try to go to sleep.

The pair mess around in bed, I hear moaning and Tonks mumbling Remus' name over and over again, I get up, snatching the pillow and blanket off of my bed and go downstairs, reaching the kitchen, I place my pillow and duvet on the dining table and climb up, snuggling back under my duvet hoping to fall asleep. I close my eyes, but all that happened was a massive twinge of guilt as I realised that over the past 15 years, I could have gone and tried to find Remus at any time that I wanted, I could have tried to make contact with him, but I didn't. Why?

"Why are you lying on the table?" I sit up quickly and see Arthur standing by the table. I explain the situation to him, Arthur laughs. "Loud were they? Must have put a silencing charm on so the people outside couldn't hear. Unlucky you."

"They were VERY loud." I shake my head. "Well, we can't have you sleeping on a table, can't be good for your back. Come, there's a spare bed in the room that Fred and George are sharing." Arthur beckons me to follow him.

"Boys?" He knocks on their door. "Yeah?" Voices reply. "Can we come in?" The door swings open and the two identical twins stand on the other side. "What would you like Dear Father?" George, or was it, Fred? I don't know, giggles.

"Can Lola use your spare bed? Please." Arthur shoots them a stern look. "Of course, come in Lola." The twin on the left side of the door grabs my wrist, pulling me in before shutting the door on their dad.

"Thank you." I smile at the boys, pulling my other pillow and duvet on top of the ones that were already on the spare bed. "Not a problem. How come you need the spare bed?"

"My brother and Nymphadora are very loud in bed, let's just leave it at that." I sigh. "Oh damn. Well, you're very welcome to move into this room. Even when we're here, you can still have that bed."

"Thank you," I say again. "Not a problem, now, we'd best be off to sleep. Got planning to do. Don't tell Mum though. Last time she found out, she burnt all the order forms."

"I won't tell her, don't worry." I say, pulling the duvet over my shoulders and closing my eyes.

------------------time skip--------------

"Wakey wakey." My eyes shoot open, the Weasley twins are stood over me, a jug of water floating mid-air. "Ah, you're awake. If you had have slept for thirty seconds longer, that would have gone over your head." George smirks. "Oh, by the way, Remus is looking for you." Fred adds.

"What the Merlin does he want?" I groan, exiting the twins' room.

"Lola, where were you last night?" Remus says, pulling me into a hug the moment he spots me. "In the twins' room." I say. "Why?"

"Did you and Tonks have fun last night?" I raise an eyebrow. "Is that why you left the room?"  Remus smirks. I nod. "Ah, sorry about that, lowkey forgot you were there during the moment, you snuck away quietly." My brother says.

"Lolaaaa!" Sirius runs at me at full speed, nearly knocking me over and hugs me. "Sirius!" I whine, hugging him back. "What?" He smirks down at me. "You nearly knocked me over." I say. He kisses my cheek and grins at me.

"Are you flirting with my sister?" Remus asks. "Possibly Moony." Sirius places his hands on either side of my cheeks and pulls me in for a kiss. I kiss him back, the kiss deepens.

"Can you two please stop kissing? It's weird!" Remus sighs in the background, Sirius chooses to ignore him, I put my arms around Sirius' neck and he picks me up and pushes me against a wall in the room.

"Padfoot! Get off  my sister!" I hear a coffee cup slam down. "Remus, leave them to it." Albus' voice sounds through the kitchen. I hear the two of them leave. "My room?" Sirius murmurs, I nod. The older man carries me upstairs, his lips never leaving mine.

"Silencio." Sirius lazily waves his wand at his door before turning his attention back to me.

"Ready?"

[lovelyirony]

morgan doesn’t have to be a hero. she just has to know the family that was. 

(or me ignoring everything about infinity war and endgame) 

Thinking about how Tony doesn’t tell Morgan everything about Iron Man. There are books, of course. A couple of children’s authors and illustrators thought it would be nice if the kids could see heroes on something else other than a news source that also talks about casualties and how much they actually lost. 

It’s nice for Tony, too. 

No one saw the wormhole. No one illustrates him falling out of the sky, body plummeting and seeing what the future would be. 

It’s Morgan’s favorite book, seeing the team defeat the “mean aliens.” Her eyes follow each hero. She likes Hulk the best. She likes tracing along the pages, asking “whozat” every two minutes or so. 

She finds the old armor in the garage when she’s in her “investigation” phase, and correlates it to the book. 

She doesn’t think that Iron Man is that cool. She wants the armor to be pink and green, so dad loses out on “cool points.” 

She finds the armor that he’s building for Pepper, because he’s still paranoid and worried and he wants her to be safe. 

He survived one house of his falling, and he’s not sure he’ll survive another one. 

Morgan asks about the picture at the kitchen, the one where Tony and Peter are posing for Peter’s official internship. 

“That’s...that’s your family,” Tony says, because he can just picture how excited Peter would be at having a little Morgan around, crawling everywhere. “His name is Peter.” 

He never refers to Peter in the past tense. He doesn’t know if it’s for Morgan’s benefit or his own. 

He tells her all about Spider-Man. “Spidey” becomes easier to pronounce, so they go with that. 

Sometimes mom finishes those stories while dad goes to get juice pops. 

(And look at the photo for a bit too long.) 

Morgan asks him where Spidey is, once. More than once. But the first time it was...it was painful. 

“Where is he?” Morgan asks. 

“He’s...” 

Tony doesn’t know what to say. He’s not gone. No, fuck that. Peter isn’t gone. But he’s not here, and Tony doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where anyone is. 

“He lives far away, so he would have to take a long time to get here,” Pepper says, smiling. “But now, we are going to travel for the kitchen for lunch! The menu today is carrots and celery with hummus, and some fresh fruit and a sandwich. What do we think?” 

“Is the fruit seasonal?” Tony asks, voice thready. “Points off if it’s out.” 

“You’re a nerd,” Pepper says. “Yes, it’s in season. Would you mind turning the washer on? I forgot to.” 

Tony nods, and Pepper grabs his hand, squeezing. 

He was so lucky to have her in his life. 

- 

And then the Avengers are reforming. Scott Lang, aka Ant-Man, aka the weirdest superhero name he’s ever heard, has a theory. 

About time travel. 

He said he didn’t Back to the Future think about it, but he totally Back to the Future thought about it. 

The problem is that it works. 

That’s not the real problem. No, it’s not a real problem at all. He thinks about everyone returning and it’s happy and good again, and- 

He’ll have to leave. 

He hasn’t forgotten Strange’s statement. 

Only one situation where this doesn’t fail. Where we don’t fail. 

And it has to be him. 

You don’t come back from something like that. 

Usually, anyway. 

Tony’s determined that he’s coming back. That everyone is coming back. 

The whole plot of Back to the Future goes as such: Marty’s life sucks, his parents’ lives are boring, and they’re not supposed to change the future. 

They do anyways. 

And it works. That’s the thing. Out of every single “time travel is dangerous” trope, Back to the Future still shows that sometimes some changes don’t affect the future badly, it just changes it. 

Tony knows that that can be done. It has to be done, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to leave Morgan. He already pinky-promised her that they’d make a picnic for her fifth birthday, and pinky-promises are the most binding contract he’s ever been a part of so far. 

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it can’t be done. 

- 

He has to go with Steve to get a stone. He doesn’t necessarily like that because neither of them are subtle and they’re going to see his dad. 

Which is just gonna be a ball of a time. And Tony looks like Howard, just a few slight changes, but it’s undeniable. 

As long as no one connects the dots, he’ll be fine. 

They’re both like bulls in china shops. Neither has ever been out of the spotlight, and neither have been trained very well in the art of subterfuge. 

“What, SHIELD just decide to set you loose?” Tony hisses as they’re making an escape. 

“Oh and you didn’t have any time to learn?” Steve snaps back. “Let’s go.” 

- 

Natasha almost doesn’t return. Almost. Tony’s terrified to think of what would have been happened had she still been there. 

“Dumbass,” Clint mutters. “Thinking you could jump and we wouldn’t have done shit about it. You’re stupid.” 

Natasha just has a graceful smile on. 

“You’re not allowed to be the stupid Avenger all the time, Clint.” 

“Okay I accidentally blew up a microwave one time and suddenly-” 

Tony laughs. 

Genuinely laughs. 

It’s been a while since they’ve functioned like a team. Been a longer time since they’ve been one. 

- 

They get the stones. 

Hulk gets everyone back. Bruce gets everyone back. 

He’s confusing. 

But there he is, Peter. 

Tony hugs him, and he tears up, and god he’s so glad that Peter’s back. That everyone is back. 

It feels nice. 

But they still have a fight to finish and a glove to play hot potato with. 

- 

Thanos is still formidable. He’s still skilled, still has an entire army. 

Well...they’re not outmatched for long. 

Dr. Strange opens portals, leading a whole new mass of people to help. And Tony sees Danvers, which he has yet to talk to Rhodey about. God, Rhodey had been right about her being alive. 

But that’s not important. 

- 

He’s fighting one-on-one. 

Thanos is confident that he’s going to win. 

See, that’s the thing about Tony: he may not have been trained in subterfuge, but he knows all about flouting expectations. He knows that everyone had expected so many things of him that when he did anything out of the ordinary, no one paid attention. 

This is just like that. 

Thanos snaps, only it’s not enough this time. 

It’s not going to be like last time, with Peter panicking and people screaming and tragedy lining the news for years. 

No this time? It won’t work. 

Because this is the time where the hero wins against all odds and there’s a happy ending. He’s going to make it so, no matter how much of a toll this takes. He’s getting back to Morgan and Pepper no matter what it fucking takes. 

- 

Thanos is gone. His army dissolved. 

And he is satisfied. He’s tired, but happy. And he’s fairly sure that the glove has taken its toll on his body, but he hopes to god that he’ll be okay. 

Pepper is running her hands through his hair, telling him it’ll be okay, and asking anyone for help with transportation. 

There’s one person important that didn’t get blipped, and luckily, she’s a personal friend: Helen Cho. 

Sure, it’s time-intensive. 

Yes, Morgan is mad that daddy can’t read her a bedtime story. 

But...she gets to meet Peter, torture him with forty questions a minute, and Tony gets the use of his arm back. 

So it equals itself out. 

- 

The world, for now, doesn’t need a lot of superheroes. Everyone’s still settling down, no one wants anything but normal. 

This means a lot of superheroes have no idea what to do. 

But Morgan does. 

When dad gets back and is up for playing again (which took forever), Morgan asks to see the team. 

If dad is Iron Man, then it only makes sense that he knows all the other ones. And she has a lot of questions. 

The Avengers are a...a team. God, that’s about the only thing they can call themselves now. They used to be a family but everything’s changed and stilted and awkward. 

Morgan knows none of this. 

So ergo, she decides the most amazing thing ever for her fifth birthday party is to have a picnic with the whole team. Writes them invitations and everything, makes her mom trace out the words she wants to write so that it looks “extra fancy.” 

Tony’s never been one to deny Morgan something she really wants. 

“You sure you wanna handle this? You and Steve aren’t exactly on the best of terms, and I don’t think the team has actually talked.” 

“Well, no time like a five year old’s birthday party to get to catching up.” 

- 

It’s...something. 

Morgan is blissfully unaware and everyone makes so that she stays unaware. 

This involves some...awkward conversations. 

But mostly just making peace with the fact that life happened. 

And Natasha finally has another niece, even if she’s not named after her. 

“You still should’ve,” she jokes. 

“We were thinking about it, honest,” Pepper remarks dryly. “But hey, thanks for coming. Morgan’s very excited to learn how to ‘be a spy’ in her words.” 

Natasha grins. 

“I’ll have her taking out government officials in no time.” 

“Or just teaching her how to disarm dangerous people, thank you very much,” Tony says hurriedly. 

“Didn’t peg you to be the helicopter parent, Stark,” Clint says. 

“Oh trust me, he barely left the house when she was born,” Pepper says with a laugh. “And he would check everything. I had to convince him that Morgan did actually need to sleep in her crib.” 

“She would’ve been fine by us!” Tony defends weakly. “And besides, you said you did want an office space!” 

“Working in the sunroom is fine enough,” Pepper says. “And you forget that you offered to build me one, which is an offer you still haven’t done.” 

“I saved the world, you know.” 

“Oh, did you?” 

Tony grins, popping a grape into his mouth as he sees the scene unfold. 

Morgan’s having great fun showing everyone her little hideout, and where she goes on walks. 

She’s made friends with Peter and introducing him to her stuffed animals. 

Yeah. 

Life is good.