#scooby doo push pops

[gayforsphaghettios]

I am TIRED of seeing people post about nostalgic 2000s foods and no one remembers the orange-flavored Scooby Doo Push Pops.

This is the only photo i could find of it, the one i mean exactly. I miss these and i've never met any other person who's had these except my sister and I as children. Where's the nostalgic love for things no one remembers

[seafoamsol]

Realised I haven’t been advertising it but my [ commissions ] are open!

You can contact me thru DMs on tumblr, or through my email solscomms@gmail.com.

As always, thank you for your time!

[clock-warmer]

First draft for an idea about a skeptic having a ghost encounter 🩷

Reader X ghost/s

You are a skeptic, exploring a supposedly "haunted" location with your partner who is a believer. Having felt cold touches and hearing strange noises all night they are afraid and leave you alone in the building. What happens inside turns you from a skeptic into a firm believer of the paranormal. 💓

Warning: This work contains,

breeding kink, reluctant/noncensent, threesome, blowjobs, degradation, creampie, facial, paranormal activity

Sexual content below the break 💓

There wasn't much you were afraid of going into buildings like these, you were a skeptic afterall. The same couldn't be said for your partner. Any slight thump or gust of wind had them jumping into your arms like an episode of Scooby doo. It was much the same when exploring the now abandoned Krolik Academy. Stairs creaked as the two of you applied weight, carefully stepping fearful about the floor falling out from under you.

"Fuck I want to go back please" your partner begged, this usually marked the end of your exploration but today you felt the unexplored corridors calling to you, feelings of cold chills running up and down your body, favouring travelling up your inner thighs.

"In a bit," you said, "we've barely seen anything" you move the flashlight around continuing further into the building despite your partner's fear. The fear wasn't unusual for them though, it was never a real concern when they started getting jumpy.

"Please I keep feeling like I'm being grabbed" they begged, you feel a grabbing on your wrist and turn around to see them further than a reaching distance away.

"Your just imagining it" you groaned, "like always. If your that scared you can go wait in the car" they just scoffed turning on their heel and making their way down the stairs.

Your eyes need to readjust now that there is less light, as soon as you hear the heavy wooden doors slam shut you feel more of the cold feeling traveling all over you. As if it's going through your clothes, you feel the cold sensation drawing lazy circles around your nipples. They harden under your bra. You cross your arms over your chest feeling violated by the wind, because that's the only explanation right? It's just the wind?

Your thoughts feel as if they aren't your own, flooding your head.

Such a prude.

Not like covering up will stop us much.

Acting all nervous as if she's not a slut absolutely desperate for it.

"What the fuck?" You exclaim out loud shocked by the things popping into your head. It had been a little while since you had gotten some action but you never knew yourself to be quite so down bad. Though with your partner waiting in the car, you didn't bother stopping the filthy thoughts now fuelling your actions.

Go lay on the table.

You feel compelled to obey your thoughts, a constant pressure against your clothed pussy and a soothing coolness massaging your breasts. The table you found was covered by a thick blanket of Gray dust that clung to your finger when you curiously dragged your finger across the surface.

Without warning you felt yourself be shoved down, hands catching yourself from falling face first into the dusty table, "wha-?"

Such a good little idiot doing what I say

You feel your shirt being unzipped and your bra being removed, your left dumbfounded and cold. Your shaking. What the fuck is happening to you. A firm grip finds your left breast and you feel a coolness meet your back as your pushed up slightly. Your flashlight laid on the table illuminating the empty dining room just enough for you to connect the sound of something dragging along the hardwood floors to the chair moving inexplicably closer to you.

Open your mouth

You don't, borderline terrified. You couldn't blame all this on just the wind. You feel a cold, hard something smack your cheek... playfully?

I said to open your mouth darling~

You shook your head rapidly tears welling up in your eyes as an invisible hand grabs you by the chin, another smack against your cheek. This time the other side. The same thing that smacked against your cheek drags across to your lips rubbing along them. The hand on your chin moves up to your hand almost instantly tangling itself in it, tugging slightly.

We know you want to now open wide

Your pants get pulled down alongside your panties, you can't see well in the light but there's a slightly darker patch from the slick leaking out of your cunt from being manhandled by the invisible assailants.

When something rubs up from your cunt, through your folds and up to your clit the cold feeling leaves you gasping which is when they take advantage of your mouth hanging open. The cock like object slides into your mouth reminding you of a popsicle as it sat still on your tongue.

There's a good girl, suprised you weren't begging to warm up my cock. Your as wet as a slut I wonder why your not acting like one.

Cold grabbing of your ass cheeks nearly manage to distract you from the cock in your mouth. Seperating your cheeks slightly before massaging them again and then repeating, slowly feeling something equally as big enter your cunt, feeling yourself stretch around it.

Such a good girl, taking us so well.

"Mmphh" you moan around the phantom cock in your mouth, sending vibrations up to the recipient warning a couple pulses in your mouth.

The pace of the cock fucking you from behind quickens, forcing you forward. your elbows holding your upper body up off of the dusty table. The harder and faster your fucked the deeper and faster the cock fucks your face, leaking a freezing cold liquid down your throat.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

The thought was simple and bouncing around your head, you couldn't even tell if it belonged to you or the entities balls deep in you.

Without warning your mouth is left empty and you feel as a liquid the temperature of ice water but the texture of glue coats your face. Your panting some of the liquid having pooled in your mouth is dripping out onto the table.

Sorry it's been so long~

Don't fucking apologize look at the mess this slut just made all over our house. Should have been grateful and swallowed every last drop.

There is a grip placed on your hips, cold and firm feeling like it may leave bruises as it slams into your dripping cunt with enough force to send you forward. Pleasure so strong your arms give out and your chest is pressed against the dusty table, sticky cheek collecting dust on the residue. "unghhh" you couldn't withhold your moans too well with your hole being ravaged like that. Thighs shaking as the pressure built up in your core.

You couldn't contain yourself any longer, squirting down your legs as the phantom fucks up against your cervix. The pulsing of your orgasm milking the freezing cum out of the cock.

Instantly the cold hands and cocks can no longer be felt, leaving you empty and longing. You stand on shaking legs tears slowly trickling down your cheeks from the overstimulation, grabbing the abandoned flashlight you rush down to your partner still patiently waiting for you in the car, the lights on as they say in the driver's seat.

"Are you okay??" They asked a worried expression as they scanned over your disheveled self "you look like you've seen a ghost"

[lovehotelreservation]

chapter one: hi it's me you're all in danger summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) pairing: f!reader/task force 141 next chapter

as a longtime charli xcx fan, can't say i expected my brat autumn to be spent writing about the cod mfs 😭😭

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

10 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

Somehow, being surrounded by opulence, prestige, and elegance made particular four men currently seated in the back of the space feel a bit out of place.

But they were here on a mission.

Or rather, a job now.

The days of being out on the field in camo fatigues were of the past. Now they were all seated together in suits–black and white, jacket, tie, pants and polished shoes–gin and lemon water on the table.

There was a bit of restlessness in the air and it was starting to spill out in the conversations shared amongst the four.

“Simon, would it literally kill ya to show yer mouth, man? Dae ya want the lass to think yer sick as a first impression?”

“A bit of mystery could be fun, no?”

“Are ya Scooby fuckin’ Doo or somethin?!”

“Johnny, can you keep it down? Your mohawk’s already gotten us enough looks as it is.”

“And what’s so wrong with a lil’ business casual, Kyle?!”

“Can you muppets keep it down!?”

The harsh lash of Price’s tongue had postures straightened and lips hushed.

With a sigh, he brought his fingers to his temple, wondering how he managed to save the world over and over again with these three. Still, his eyes flickered to his watch as he checked the time, a conversation from a month ago coming to mind.

“Price.”

A hand was extended out to him. Fluorescent lights at the American embassy in Paris hung above. Murmurs of French and English lingered in the air as the day proceeded.

Price grinned, returning the exchange with a firm handshake. “Miller. Good to see you standing, old friend.”

Moments later the conversation was held at Miller’s office, a familiar place during the times Price had visited. What stood out to him most was the newly framed photo of Miller and his blushing bride, Priscilla.

A miraculous matrimony all things considered.

Miller, an American ambassador. Priscilla, an activist whose loud and mighty voice helped push for change within socio-political and environmental spaces.

It wasn’t as if it was absolutely impossible for the two to meet–rather, it was just the fact they met after being held hostage alongside other world leaders and activists during a goodwill gala held at Berlin. Terror wished to deliver a haunting message to all of the world, with similar sieges held at other massive events, but thankfully the work of 141 and other allies blocked the reception.

Price glanced down at Miller’s desk, where a few pictures of a glamorous woman were splayed across files: a pop star by the name of Dollface. Formerly part of beloved girl group 4EVA, now setting the music scene alight with impeccable music production, godly vocals, and captivating choreography.

Or so he’s heard.

Right beside her was a clipped out headline from a newspaper:

Glastonbury Saved! Tragedy Averted from Terrorist Threat!

A job well done–courtesy of a certain phantom soldier.

“–I know your days of military campaigns are over, but this has been tearing Priscilla apart,” Miller sighed morosely. “While I know this is the fault of no one and she understands that change in the world comes at a cost, the fact that terrorists would target her niece’s festival performance has been haunting her.”

“Revolution does not come easy, that’s for certain,” Price mused as he glanced over at his friend’s face with an affirming nod. “Even so, it’s something still worth fighting for.”

Miller sighed out in agreement. “Of course.”

“So then.” Adjusting his posture, Price then continued, his tone light, “What can I and a few recently retired soldiers do for you, mate?”

His shoulders relaxing, Miller then reached down for one of the photos of the pop star, pushing it over towards Price. “Watch her. Protect her, please. She’s been an anxious mess ever since Glastonbury.” Gazing down at the newspaper headline clipping, he continued, “Her career’s at such a critical point and her first solo world tour’s been delayed enough as it is. Pressure’s everywhere–label, fans, the media. I know she wants more than anything to finally move forward. But–”

Gingerly picking up the photo, Price took in every single detail of the woman.

Of you.

Turning his focus back to Miller, he grinned, brows raising. “A bit of Price Protection and Co. could do wonders, yeah?”

“You’d be doing miracles, friend” was the response received, along with a vigorous nod.

Price held out his hand.

“It’s a deal.”

And now, the gang was all here, even though the gang was currently driving Price up the wall. Still, if there was anyone who he trusted to get the job done on behalf of a dear old friend, it was Gaz, Ghost, and Soap.

Or rather, from here on out: Kyle, Simon and Johnny.

It didn’t hurt that the gig paid quite handsomely–your label desperately wanted you to get back on stage one way or another. Since the Glastonbury incident, you’ve since been spending your days in London, far too afraid to leave anywhere. The plan was to slowly draw you out of your shell by planning all promotional endeavors around the UK before you would travel the world as intended.

Before any of that however, the first key matter of business is for the five of you to meet together.

10:15 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

“What do you lot think? Full glam or lowkey?” Kyle spoke up, now peering over to look at Johnny’s phone, who had brought up one of your music videos.

Price glanced over, seeing slick skin, big curls, gyrating hips, rouge lips, white heels, and sparkling eyes.

Such visuals were definitely not on Miller’s desk when discussing the job.

“Like right now?” Johnny queried back.

“Lowkey without question.” Simon folded his arms across his chest, his eyes peeking at Johnny’s phone, his expression reflective.

A sudden tap on the back of Price's shoulder just a moment later soon caught his attention. 

“Mr. Price…?”

He immediately turned back, the others following suit.

Johnny’s eyes widened, immediately switching off his phone to shove into his pocket.

Lowkey was correct.

A cap, oversized t-shirt with shorts hidden beneath, hair down, tennis shoes, a pair of sunglasses that were soon slipped off.

The contrast between who they saw on screen to who they were seeing now couldn’t be any more apparent.

Still, even by the way you stood before him, posture shrunken back slightly, eyes a bit downcast, voice softer than the usual bubbly vocals of your music, there was this grace, this aura that you exuded–one that spoke of a true bonafide performer rather than a mere average person.

Smiling warmly, Price held his hand out towards you for you to shake. “That would be me, dear.”

“Uncle Miller’s told me lots about you.” You smiled, bringing your hand up to take his.

So much smaller than his, he noted to himself, chuckling as he responded with, “I hope they’re my finer moments.”

Giggling in response, you affirmed, “As he said, only the best unclassified stuff. I’m Doll–” You quickly stopped yourself, opting to give your first name instead.

“Face pretty like a doll’s still,” Johnny murmured over to Kyle, who nodded in agreement.

Simon didn’t say anything but instead allowed his arms to rest by his sides, continuing to quietly observe you.

A world-renowned pop star with four former soldiers tasked to serve as her bodyguards.

Should be an easy enough job.

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

thank you for reading !!! i know i tend to not really do multi-chapter pieces but idk the ghost of brat summer took over me after seeing a clip of soap and simon banter so i've been genuinely locked in with writing out this tale 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

subsequent chapters are going to be loosely tied together but i hope you enjoy my take on cod yumejo with this pop star otome 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

next chapter's up next friday !!! 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

[lovemybluebully]

Over My Dead Body

Got writer's block on the fic I mentioned with X23 so I wrote this to keep my creative juices flowing. 😁 Hope you guys don't mind. lol I swear this was just going to be a little drabble, buuuuuuut I got carried away. It was just like, I have an idea! Oooh I have another idea! And then it just spiraled. 🤣 I suck at writing short fics. lol

Probably not my best work, but just a little silliness between these two guys. Another fic where Wade discovers Logan is ticklish and goes all out on him. I very much enjoy tickle origin fics. 🥰

Again some somewhat movie spoilers, but if you haven't seen the biggest movie in the world by now then that's your fault. lol Then of course the typical foul language and Deadpool's dirty mouth.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 5,139

"Fucking give me that remote, Wilson!" Logan let out a teeth-bared snarl while chasing Wade comically around and around the couch like in a Scooby Doo cartoon.

"But baby cakes, I want to watch 'Touched By An Angel'! Wade snickered, managing to stay just one step ahead.

"Fuck that shit! This is the final round for the Flames in the Stanley Cup, and I am NOT missing it!" He finally caught up to Wade and took him down with a flying tackle of heavy adamantium as they both crashed to the floor and the tv remote went sailing out of reach.

Logan quickly scrambled to his feet as he made a break for it, but Wade successfully grabbed his leg to trip him as he hit the floor again with the merc now up and giggling as he ran to claim the prize.

"Yessss! Home run! And the crowd goes wild!" Wade mimicked the sounds of a cheering stadium while triumphantly holding the remote over his head. However, this was instantaneously followed by a loud growl from Logan as he charged his roommate like a bull and slammed into him harder than a Mack truck.

Wade didn't have time to yelp as his body went flying across the room though the remote had been knocked from his grasp and dropped to the ground, exploding the case open as the batteries all popped out. Logan reached down to pick it all up, shaking his head in annoyance as he walked back over towards the couch and tried to jam the batteries back in properly.

"Motherfucking idiot. Just sit your stupid ass down and take the L. I'm putting on the hockey game and that's that."

But Wade wasn't through yet. He was having too much fun with this! He was always trying to get Logan to roughhouse and play with him, but with the X-man being such a stiff it was hard to get him to let loose. Alcohol usually played a big factor in getting Logan to loosen his inhibitions and engage, but at the current moment he was sober as a judge. 

Pissing him off was the next best thing, and Wade loved a good chase and the physical contact, even if it was of the more painful variety. They had a rule about not spilling any blood inside the apartment, but he knew Logan could be pushed too far sometimes and forget about that so Wade would usually back off before he reached that point.

Though at this present time he had only antagonized him a little bit so he knew Logan would be able to tolerate him just a smidge more.

Logan's hypersensitive ears easily picked up the sound of the energetic man coming at him again as he turned around just as Wade plowed all of his weight into him to tackle him onto the couch. Wade quickly took the position to straddle the man's thighs and started making grabs for the remote as growling curses were hurled at him.

"Goddammit! You juvenile fucking moron! Just back off! The only way you're getting this is over my dead body!"

"Bet," Deadpool nodded and kept up in his efforts.

As they played slap-hands fighting to get a hold of the controller it slipped from their grip, hitting Logan in the face on its way down before sliding inside his collar down into his button-up overshirt.

"Nice going, captain loser. Don't worry, I'll get it!" Wade immediately went after it as he haphazardly began squeezing and poking around Logan's midsection as he tried to find the location of the remote hidden beneath the fabric.

As irritated as he was Logan now found that he had a new problem as his body started involuntarily reacting to the way Wade was grabbing at him. It was making his skin crawl. Shivers running up his spine as he began to writhe underneath the other man, trying to avoid the touches.

"Stop squirming, would you? You're making this way harder than it has to be. And I can't find the remote either," Wade teased, always managing to slip in inappropriate innuendos, but Logan was too occupied to make a sarcastic retort as he frantically tried to grab and get control of Wade's busy hands.

"Q-Quit it, shithead!" Logan gritted through his teeth as Wade just clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"Oh c'mon! Stop fighting it and just give it up!" Wade's words held a double meaning in this situation as his hands moved lower, giving the grump a particularly firm squeeze around his hips as Logan couldn't hold it in anymore. 

His back arched off the couch accompanied by a loud snort; his nose scrunched as a soft string of giggles tumbled their way out. 

Upon hearing that Wade immediately stopped what he was doing; practically frozen in shock as he stared down at the bigger male below him. After a few long, tense moments a slow grin of realization started to spread over his face and Logan was suddenly overcome with a feeling of immense dread at what was about to transpire.

"Did...Did you just giggle?"

"....No," was all Logan could say lamely; his uneasy mind not allowing him to come up with anything else as Wade only smiled more.

"Now here's the plot twist that I never would have expected. You wanna tell me what that was all about? Forgive me if I'm finding it difficult to believe that a hardened tough guy like you could possibly be, dare I say it.....ticklish."

Logan's eyes betrayed him as they widened in pure terror; his brain frantically trying to figure out a solution to get him out of this mess, but his silence told more than enough.

"Ohohoho, you are, aren't you? Well this just made things a lot more sexy...I mean, interesting," Wade stroked his own chin, pondering the situation while Logan finally regained his wit and was now on the rebound to try to deny it.

"What? Are you kidding? Tch! I am not ticklish. Where the fuck do you come up with such stupid ideas?" He made his best attempt to sound convincing, but Wade could easily see right through his bullshit.

"I gotta tell you that all sounds exactly like something a ticklish person would say. A pitiful performance like that isn't going to win you any Oscars," Wade smirked before his eyes then drifted back down to Logan's torso, "Oh dear. It looks like the remote has fallen inside your shirt. Whatever shall we do?"

Wade was gently tugging at the front of his shirt as Logan narrowed his eyes.

"Just get offa me and I'll get it myself. Quit looking for excuses to grope me, ya fucking pervert," Logan growled deeply with his characteristic hard-as-nails Wolverine glare, trying to be as off-putting as possible to hopefully get Wade to lose the notion.

"But it's so confusing when your mouth says 'no', but your eyes say 'yes'," Wade grinned, giving a light tickle to Logan's sides that made him flinch, "By the way, what do you want your safe word to be?"

"Touch me and I will cut your useless motherfucking head off, Wilson."

Wade laughed chaotically and shook his head.

"Now that's kind of a mouthful to say. You should pick something easier like 'umbrella' or 'avocado' or 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'-"

Logan realized he was running out of time for stalling and was now struggling to push Wade off of him before he could actually carry out this heinous act, but the merc simply shoved his arms aside and launched his attack, tickling wildly along his ribcage.

"Oh I get it! You don't want a safe word! Very kinky! I like your style! Well you did say the only way I was getting the remote was over your dead body. Who knew it was going to be death by tickling?"

Logan made a strained grunting noise as he steeled himself and began writhing about, still fighting to force Wade off despite the fingers running along his ribs. He in no way wanted to give Wade the satisfaction of making him laugh and would hold it in for as long as he could.

"Looks like we've got a tough guy, ladies and gentlemen," Wade grinned, momentarily looking out at the camera then turning back to his victim, "You know in all the fanfics I've read it's always the toughest guys that are the most ticklish of all. Look at you doing everything in your power not to laugh. How cute. Too bad you're not going to be able to keep that up. I pretty much wrote the book on 'lerring."

Wolverine had no idea what that meant but could hardly fathom the idea that he was going to have to listen to Wade's annoying jabbering and teases without being able to give him a piece of his mind. Because if he even dared to open his mouth it was game over and he was going to fucking lose it.

"So are you like one of those guys who are only ticklish around here...," Wade squeezed and massaged into his sides as an involuntary grin stretched across Logan's face while keeping his jaw clenched, "Or are you one of those head-to-toe ticklish kinda guys? I'm betting the latter."

While still keeping one hand digging into his side Deadpool now reached up to teasingly trace his fingers with a feather-light touch over Logan's ear and down his neck as the man wrenched his head away and scrunched up his shoulder to try to cover up that side of his head.

"Ooooh so sensitive. Am I going to have some fun with you. All we're missing is the sweet sound of your laughter. C'moooooooon just let it out already. You're not embarrassed of your laugh, are you? I'm sure it's wonderful. Don't be shy now, it's just the two of us here."

Every word that came out of Wade's mouth was slowly eating away at Logan's resolve along with his mental capacity to resist the laughter building up inside of him. Giving into Wade's demands was not high on his list of favorable activities, but he knew it was about to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

"You are one hard nut to crack, I'll give you that. But that's okay, it's just going to make breaking you even sweeter. Heheh, look how red your face is. You look like you're about to explode. I just need to find the right spot to poke that bubble and free you of your burden. Hmmm, I think I know where....," Wade smirked big time as he changed tactics to thrust his hands underneath Logan's arms and furiously tickle into his armpits.

The battle was finally over. Logan had fought for as long as he possibly could, but he just couldn't take it anymore. With Wade having honed in on one of his most sensitive areas he felt his lips make one last valiant effort to stay sealed as they trembled right before releasing his loud, pent-up outburst.

"HAHAHaahaha! AhahahahaStop! Stahahahap ihihhit!" Logan hollered as he managed to shove Wade's hands out of his pits, though they immediately latched onto his waist and dug right in. Wade was beyond pleased with this turn of events.

"Ahhhh there it is. And it's just as adorable as I imagined. See? Nothing to be embarrassed about," Wade's grin encompassed his whole face as he didn't let up and kept kneading his thumbs right above Logan's hips.

"I wahahahasn't embahahaharrassed, ya dehehehense fuhuhuhucking prihihihiiick!  Gahahahahaa! Just didhihihidn't wahahahaha-wahant to gihihihive you the sss-satisfahahahaction!" Logan struggled to speak clearly through his laughter as he twisted and squirmed, trying to wriggle out from under the other man.

"Well mission failed, my little stud muffin. I can't believe you've been hiding your ticklishness from me all this time. Think of all the fun we're going to have together now!" Wade exclaimed with pure glee as he moved back up to the ribs now that he was receiving the reactions he wanted, making Logan cackle uncontrollably.

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuuck!! Okaahahahay! You gohohohohot meheheee! I'm tihihihicklish! Now fuhuhuhuhuhuck ohhohohoff!" Logan's hysterical proclamation was accompanied by a series of hard snorts, making Wade's face light up even more.

"You're a snorter?! Oh that's just so precious! How can you expect me to fuck off after hearing that?! Nononono, I think I will keep fucking on, thank you very much! Besides if I stop now then this will be the shortest tickle fic ever written!" He increased his speed, probing between every rib bone as he played his friend's sides like a ticklish piano.

Logan surprisingly laughed even harder, wheezing for air as he continued letting out a snort every few seconds with his burly arms pitifully clamped as tight as he could against his sides. Nothing was stopping the devilishly dexterous fingers of his hyper roommate though.

"Wihihihilsonaaahahahahah.......sssstooooohahahahahahooooop! I'll....I'll gihihihihive you ohohone lahahahast chaaa-EEEHEEHEEHeheheheheheeh!" Logan literally squealed much to his chagrin as he broke into high-pitched giggles with Wade switching spots to now claw mercilessly at his stomach and waist.

"Oh I've never heard a Wolverine squeal before. It's just the gift that keeps on giving. Definitely going to need that as my new ringtone. But hmmm, I think this could be better...," Wade mused as his fingers kept scratching over the buttons going down Logan's flannel shirt, no doubt hindering his tickling efforts if only a little.

In the next second he grabbed Logan's overshirt and pulled hard in opposite directions to pop all the buttons as the remote was finally freed and clattered to the floor. The mercenary smirked as he saw that Logan wasn't wearing anything underneath as his hairy, heavy-muscled torso was now on full display.

Logan was grateful that it had all stopped and the remote was now nowhere near him as he leaned his head back and tried to catch his breath.

"........Fuck......Okay.....You win you win. Just take the fucking thing.....and go ahead and watch your stupid ass shoHOHohOhOHOhoW! NAAAAHOHOHOHOOOOO!!"

Logan had thought it was over, but his momentary sparkle of hope vanished instantly as Wade paid the controller no mind and lunged for him again.

"Ahh yes, that's much better! Now I can really get my hands in here!" Wade smirked in delight with his fingers currently buried and wriggling into Logan's armpits while the feral man roared with deep belly laughs before fizzling into helpless wheezes.

"Ohoho you're very tickly here, aren't you? Bet you wish you would've chosen a safe word now, huh? Or not. Maybe you're enjoying this. Is that it? Don't lie to me now."

"I'm gohohohohonna fffffff-aaahahahhahahah.....fuhuhuhucking k-kihihihill yooooou!" Logan wheezed out as he weakly smacked at Wade's arms and haphazardly kicked his legs around.

"Awww don't be mean, peanut. I just can't get enough of the sound of your laugh. That's not a crime, is it?"

Logan couldn't remember having ever been tickled like this. It had been so long since he'd been this close to anybody, and his memory of such things was pretty fuzzy of anything that happened before his regrettable incident. After those events he'd become even more withdrawn and had fallen deep into depression from the unbearable guilt he felt, confident that he never deserved to be happy again.

And then this annoying little fucker appeared at that bar one day and dragged him on the wildest, most fucked up adventure he could ever recall being on. If at the beginning of all that someone had told him that Wade and he were going to become great friends then he would have laughed right in their face.

But it did happen, and Logan was taken-aback to finally be around someone again who actually cared about his well-being. Someone who wanted the best for him and to make sure that he knew that he mattered. Someone who wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.

And Deadpool was always trying to make him laugh. The look of genuine happiness on Wade's face was unmatched whenever one of his jokes managed to land and make Logan chuckle. The X-man seemed to smile a lot more these days, but laughing was still a rare occurrence for him, which is why Logan was so defensive against the tickling that was currently causing him to do so.

But could he say with complete honesty that he truly hated all this? The answer irked him a little bit because it was no, he didn't hate it, but he was conflicted because he still didn't think he should be allowed to feel pure joy again. 

He felt that guilt come up again when he admitted to himself that laughing like this actually felt good. He didn't deserve to feel good. Ever. But obviously Wade had a difference of opinion on that. Wanting him to smile. Wanting him to laugh. Wanting him to let go of his guilt and be happy in this universe that undoubtedly wouldn't be here without him.

"Don't think I forgot about this little sweet spot!"

Wade brought him out of these thoughts rather quickly once he began scribbling all ten fingers over his taut, bare stomach as the Wolverine tossed his head back in howling laughter with his eyes squeezed shut and tears forming in the corners of them.

"Coochie coochie coo! Awwww wittle Wolvie is so ticklish! Yes, he is! Yes, he is!" The merc cooed playfully, knowing all these teases were key to breaking down Logan's mental barriers. And it was working as Logan finally stopped feeling sorry for himself and just gave into it all.

"W-Waaade nooooo! Aahahahahahaah! Cuhuhuhut it ohohhohout! Pleeheheheheeease!"

The merc cocked his head in amusement, having never heard Logan even come close to begging for anything before.

"Oooooh this really is a killer spot, isn't it? Is this rock-hard belly of yours the most ticklish of all? How ironic," Wade mused while absentmindedly squirming a finger down into his navel, making Logan buck strongly and shriek with unrestrained giggles.

"Shihihihiiiiit! Aaaheehehehehehee! Noohohohooot in thehehehere! Fohohor fuhuhuhucks saahaahaakeheehehehehehahahah-st-stoohahahahop tihihihickling! You're kihihhihillin' meheeheehee!"

Wade's stomach did a little somersault at how vulnerable Logan was now being with him. It was all he ever wanted was to see his friend let go of all his anger and self-loathing of the past and surrender himself to the present day. 

Logan was laughing freely now. He wasn't grinding his teeth and trying to hold anything in anymore and he even stopped really fighting to get Wade off of him.  His face and chest were flushed, tears running down his cheeks as he just laid there in a squirming heap with his wide-open mouth releasing endless peals of laughter and pleas for mercy.

In all honesty Wade didn't want to stop just so he could keep Logan in this state for as long as possible where he was freed from the prison of his own mind, though he knew that he'd have to let him go eventually. Still not quite this second.

"Stop? But I couldn't possibly! Look how happy it's making you! I'd be an asshole to rob you of that! Lucky for you I'm such a good friend, huh?! Tickletickletickletickle! Laugh it up, buddy!" He kept ruthlessly tickling his heaving belly while his other hand slid up to creep back into his armpit, rendering Logan into a powerless wheezing wreck.

"Nohohohooot fahahahaaair! Baahahhhahahaha! Wahahade pleeeease! I cahahahaa-cahahaan't tahahake anymohohohore! Uhuhuhuhuncle!"

Between Wade's unrelenting yapping and Logan's loud fits of laughter they both failed to hear the sound of the front doorknob rattling right before it opened and in walked Dopinder with several plastic bags of take-out in his hands.

"Hello? Your UberEats order is here, Mr. Logan. I've got your hot wings and your pizza rolls and your-AAAH!!" Dopinder let out a scream as he rounded the corner to find Wade straddling and feeling up a howling, red-faced and bare-chested Wolverine. 

Upon hearing the terrified cry Wade immediately paused what he was doing as he looked back over his shoulder like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Uhh heeeey Dopinder. Ummm.....This isn't what it looks like.....," he had a guilty look on his face, but quickly revealed his facade as he broke into a devious grin, "Just fucking with you! It's totally what it looks like!"

"And-And what exactly does it look like?" The younger man dared to ask despite his better judgement.

"Well you see Dopinder when two men start living together they begin to develop these feelings; feelings that cause them to get these strong urges that they just can't ignore and-," Wade's tirade of nonsense was cut off as Logan took the opportunity to give him a hard shove and flip him over the back of the couch between pants for air

"Fucking idiot. Don't...freak out, kid. The asshole....was just ticklin' me...is all," Logan breathlessly grunted while moving to take a normal seated position on the couch as Wade then popped his head up from the back.

"That's what he wants to call it. Wanna get in on this action, Dopinder?"

"Oh uhh hehe, n-no thank you. I actually have some more deliveries to get finished. Ermm, next time perhaps," he stuttered nervously as he gingerly placed the food down onto the coffee table in front of them and began to make his exit from the apartment.

"Don't think I'm not holding you to that," Wade teased, making his former cab driver blush and dart out through the door as Wade chuckled and nudged Logan in the shoulder, "Hehehe, did you see how flustered he got? I'll bet he's even more ticklish than you are."

"Leave the kid alone, Wilson. You'd probably kill him. He doesn't have a healing factor like I do," Logan snorted, bunching up his shoulders as Wade lightly ran a finger across the back of his neck.

"Ohh I can be gentle if I want. But I'm pretty sure you're the kind of guy who likes it rough," Wade teased as he moved around to the front of the couch to sit next to the other man, surprised to hear Logan let out a low chuckle.

"Was that a laugh? Nice to see you finally start to appreciate my elite level of humor. Maybe I won't have to start with the daily tickle sessions after all."

Logan made a face at that and lifted his brow.

"Daily? Yeah fuck no, that ain't happening. Once in a while......fine. But I don't think I could take it every day," he mentally shivered thinking about what Wade just put him through.

"Tell you what, you start laughing a little more at my jokes and I'll consider it. But no fake laughing! Because I can tell the difference! Especially now that I know what your real laugh sounds like and let me tell you it's going to be hard for me to get enough of it," Wade experimentally grabbed his knee, giving it a firm squeeze and digging his fingers in around the kneecap as Logan instantly wheezed out a laugh and quickly wrenched the hand off of him.

"Alrihight! I get it! Promise I'll try!"

"I guess that's all I can ask of you. Of course I'm still making it my mission to find everywhere else you're ticklish, and what other really bad spots you have.....unless you just want to tell me," Wade suggested with a grin as Logan just smirked right back.

"Now where'd be the fun in that?"

"You know, you are so right, you smug little honey badger. I gotta say though I'm liking this mood you're in now."

"Well it's your fault. Ya tickled me so bad I couldn't even think straight. Seems like you pushed all the negative thoughts right outta my mind," Logan confessed as Wade began to reconsider his earlier promise.

"Is that so? Hmmm maybe those daily tickle sessions are a good idea after all...," Wade teased just to watch Logan squirm at the thought again.

"I don't think so, bub. Besides, look what ya did," he gestured to his wide-open shirt, pointing at all the areas missing buttons, "You ruined my favorite fucking shirt, dickhead."

"Hardly. You've got like twenty of the exact same one. That's all you ever wear," Wade was quick to point out as Logan just shrugged with a smile.

"So? What's your point?"

"My point is you're a walking fashion disaster. But okay, I'll try not to be so rough next time. We can do the gentle stuff if you prefer. So for research purposes can you tell me how you feel about feathers, hm?" He grinned as he saw Logan shift uneasily in his seat.

"You're gettin' a little crazy now, Wilson."

"Oh c'moooon, just imagine a nice, fluffy feather teasing that big ol' neck of yours.....circling your little tummy button....stroking the backs of your knees.....threading between all your toes....I can't imagine that your feet were spared of your adorable weakness."

"Wade...."

"Oooh! What about raspberries?! Those are fun! Bet it would drive you insane if I blew them on your belly. How about we test that out really quick?" Wade took a deep breath and started leaning towards him with his eyes locked onto his stomach.

"Alright cut it out!" Logan's hand caught him by the face and shoved him kind of hard, though couldn't stop himself from chuckling as he shook his head, "Fuckin' hell, you've seriously got a career in how to mentally torture a guy."

"At your service," Wade tipped an invisible hat as he then surveyed all the bags of food on the table in front of them, "So what did you order all of this for?"

"I told ya I was gonna watch the hockey game. Can't watch it without some proper snacks now," he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tall can of beer as he popped the pull ring and took a long drink out of it while the other man began removing the take-out boxes.

"Chimichangas? Since when do you eat chimichangas?" Wade looked over at him questionably upon opening one of the containers as Logan gave him a half-smile.

"I got those for you, dumbass. Thought maybe you'd wanna hang out and watch the game with me." 

Wade was left momentarily speechless, truly touched by Logan's unexpected gesture.

"Well.....yeah of course. I'd love to. But how come you didn't ask me earlier?"

"Didn't get a chance to because you started bein' an idiot and going off about some other stupid show....'Touched By An Asshole' or something. What kinda pervy ass show is that anywaahaahaays?" Logan giggled, rubbing at his ribs where Wade had now just indignantly poked him.

"It's 'Touched By An Angel', you disrespectful twat. And it's a national treasure. But besides the fact that I've seen every episode, I didn't really want to watch it. I was just trying to get a rise out of you. You seemed tense," Wade admitted as Logan only shrugged and sipped from his beer can.

"When am I not?"

"Umm...Right now. Honestly I haven't you seen this relaxed in.....ever. Even when you're drunk sometimes you're still pretty moody," Wade pointed out as Logan took it in and knew he was right. He'd literally been forced into laughing off all of the burdens that he had carried for many years. His mind currently free from all the adverse feelings and troubles that he'd been endlessly plagued. 

The effects were likely not permanent but at least for the time being he felt good. Having to suffer through a vicious tickle attack to achieve that was more than worth it he decided.

"Hmph. Yeah. I guess you're right," a smile broke across Logan's face as he punched Wade in the shoulder, "Thanks asshole."

"Any time. And if you ever change your mind about the daily ticklings then I'm your guy," Wade was glowing from the actual genuine appreciation he'd just received from the normally cantankerous Wolverine.

"Heh. We'll see," Logan smirked as he bent over to pick up the remote off of the floor and turned on the television ahead of them, switching channels until he found the right one, "So do ya even like hockey?"

Wade nodded enthusiastically.

"Love it so much that I've never watched a game in my entire life," he said matter-of-factly before clapping his hands in excitement when he saw Dogpool trot into the room, patting the spot on the couch next to him as she jumped up.

Logan sighed as he handed his roommate a beer, realizing that the next few hours were going to be filled with Wade obnoxiously asking questions about every little thing that happened in the game. Though he couldn't help but smile as he watched the man-child start happily eating the chimichangas while simultaneously feeding little bits of them to his unusual looking dog.

Truth be told they all were an unusual bunch. Not just the three of them, but Blind Al, Peter, and Dopinder, to name a few. All these people that Wade had brought into his life and openly shared with him. Not to mention without Wade's intervention he never would have met Laura; someone he found he made a fast connection with and was now someone he cared deeply about.

Really Wade had rescued him that day. Rescued him from himself and gave him another reason to keep on living for. He felt his heart warm as he looked over at one of the side tables where Wade kept a framed photo of all of their friends; only now it was a new picture that included Logan, Laura and Mary Puppins in it.

Logan's smile grew as he reached over to pat the dog on the head before Wade made a whimpering noise and leaned his own head towards him to receive the same affection. He chuckled and obliged for a few moments before getting a wicked grin on his face as he snatched the hair piece off of Wade's head, prompting a momentary yelp of pain from the scarred man.

As the merc rubbed at his head while glaring over at him Logan found it impossible not to start laughing while jokingly dangling the toupee up in his hand. Wade then promptly broke into a smirk that told him he was dead, though even with that warning Logan made no attempt to escape.

Wade easily knocked him onto his back again to mercilessly tickle his sides while at the same time making the Wolverine shriek by blowing those promised raspberries into his stomach. And they tickled just as badly as Wade had said.

Yes, they were an unusual bunch, but they were his whole world now. And Logan was never going to let them down. Over his dead body.

[shelbgrey]

Hello, I love your fics, could you do one with James Aubrey smut? please

Unspoken desire(James Aubrey)

Paring: James Aubrey x Booth!Reader

Summary: James Aubrey and y/n booth always gets on each other's nerves, but it's everything but hate. When they are forced to go undercover together some piped up feeling are finally released.

Warrings: SMUT! Female reader, fingering, counter sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex.

MasterList

“undercover, seriously?” I asked, as I sat down in front of my brother and Temperance.

“Well it's likely that the suspects are the participants” Seeley responded as he handed me the file for the victim and old western joint I was supposed to be undercover at.

“and 85% if the competitors are repeat guests” Temperance added.

“why aren't you guys doing it? Undercover is your thing” I said as the waitress brought our food.

“Hank has a doctor's appointment and Booth is going to Christine's field trip” Temperance said as I popped a fry in my mouth.

I sighed, I belonged in the Lab not undercover. “Who's going with me?”

“Aubrey” Booth said as he lifted his coffee mug.

“No” I said quickly and pointed at my older brother. “your not doing this to me”

Me and Aubrey never got along. I hated everything about him, his voice, the fact his appetite is bigger than scooby-doo, his adorable smile…

Wait…

“why? What's wrong with Aubrey” Booth asked.

“he annoying and we don't get along”

“By the way you refuse to make eye contact and the blood rushing to your cheeks, I find it hard to believe you dislike Aubrey,” Temperance said matter of factly. I rolled my eyes playfully.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” I mumbled to myself as I put on a cowboy hat. I kept a low profile as I walked through what looked like the set for Tombstone or young guns. I walked around trying to find Aubrey.

I walked into the tavern full of western people. It was jam packed with cowboys and beer. I looked around silently till my eyes landed on Aubrey, he was sporting cowboy boots and a hat. I hated how my eyes traveled down his body. The Wranglers he had on framed his body in the best way possible, leaving no room for the imagination. Then the button up he wore, framed his chest showing the muscles on his chest. Speaking of muscles, sleeves of his button up were rolled up to his elbows, showing his arm muscles.

I tried to shake the dirty thoughts out of my mind and walked into the tavern with my head held up high. I looked around the tavern, trying to find something out of the ordinary. I hated it, it smelled like beer and it felt stuffy from all the shouting and laughing wanna be cowboys.

“What are you doing here?” a voice said firmly, Aubrey stood behind me. I shivered at how low his voice got, I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

“undercover, same as you” I stated and pulled myself together before turning around to face him. Damn, he looked better up close.

What was that saying? Save the horse ride the Cowboy

“We need to solve a murder, remember?” I said, crossing my arms. I definitely didn't miss the way his eyes traveled down my body. I would have pointed it out, but it wouldn't be fair. No one likes a hypocrite.

Aubrey rolled his eyes and grabbed my bicep, I felt a certain way when he grabbed me like that. He had frustration and fire in his eyes as he led me out of the building. He didn't say anything as he dragged me to the back of the tavern and pushed me up against the side of the building. My breath hitched as he left very little room between us. He pressed his palms against the building, caging me in.

“I don't need this, we're solving a murder not playing dress up”

I smirked and grabbed the massive western theme buckle that was attached to his belt, I pulled him closer by it. “trust me, your enjoying this a lot more than you should”

“don't patronize me” he pushed himself off the building, breaking the little space we had between us.

“and don't get yourself into trouble” he said and walked away, leaving me behind the building with my pounding heart.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“what are you doing?” I jogged up to Aubrey, he had a determined look on his face and he looked like he wasn't gonna slow down anytime soon. “the lab identified the murder weapon and the who bought”

“Good, let's go get ‘em” I said, Aubrey immediately stopped in front of me, pointing his finger at me. “no. Your gonna stay back and watch out for anything else the seems suspicious”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Come on!”

“I'm serious” he said sternly, his gray eyes staring me down intently.

“Stop him!” a voice shouted in the distance, making the both of us whip around. The guy Angela IDed came running out of the tavern. Aubrey ran after him and instead of listening to him and ran behind the tavern so we could corner the guy. I ran around the comer and jumped onto the guy, talking him to the ground. We rolled around a dusty mess until I got him flat on his stomach and his hands pinned behind his back.

“Damit y/n! I told you to stay put” Aubrey snapped and quickly put the handcuffs on the guy before tugging him onto his feet.

“yeah and guess what, I got to him before you did!”

Aubrey gave me a hard stare before taking the suspect into a isolated room to stay in until Booth came and got him.

Booth came in record time and stared his interrogation with the suspect. Me and Aubrey watched Booth walk into the room with the guy and as soon as the door was closed, Aubrey grabbed my bicep, forcing me to follow him into an empty building that looked like a smaller version of the tavern we were in this morning. He locked the door and turned to me with fire in his eyes.

“You sit here and listen to me!” James huffed, I moved off the counter only to get picked up and put on the counter again. “You're the most obstinate, stubborn, ornery, impossible girl I ever met! You just won't admit there's another side, my side! You know why?” the more he ranted the closer his face got to mine, my breath hitched when I felt his breath fan against my skin.

“Because you're unreasonable!” he said, I rolled my eyes and tried to move again “Sit still!” he huffed and pushed me against the counter, this time he pressed his palms on either side of me, caging me in. He leaned in closer, his chest heaving and his blue eye staring into my soul. “You're argumentative, mulish, uncooperative - unbelievable”

He stopped his nose barley brushing against mine. My heart pounds at how close we were. If I wasn't so stubborn I would have pulled him closer so there was no space between us. If I wasn't so stubborn I would have ran my fingers through his dark hair.

James huffed, keeping his intense gaze. “And You don’t know how beautiful you are.” he breathed, his lips barely touching mine, The words were soft but firm, leaving no room for doubt. His free hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer against his hard length.

My breath hitched at how hard he was against my thigh and my eyes widened when he called me beautiful.

“You know it's true.” His hand slid up my arms, tracing along your neck and into your hair. "I've been trying so hard not to notice, but you're just... everything”

Feeling bold, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to me. I smashed my lips against his for a heated rough kiss. James groaned into the kiss, his body melting up against mine. I shivered as I felt one of his hands slide up my spine, gripping my hair tightly as he deepened the kiss. The other hand moved lower, squeezing my hip possessively.

I started unbuttoning his shirt as I kissed down his jaw line. He moaned in pleasure and I ran fingers down his chest. He brought my lips to his again, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth. He kissed my neck and led down to my shoulder, where he lightly bit. I moaned in pleasure.

“God, you're beautiful.” He pushed some hair out of my face, staring into my eyes before pulling my shirt over my head. His head dipped and he started to kiss the tops of my breasts and down my stomach. My breath hitched as he pushed me down so I was lying flat on the counter and started to unbutton my pants. We locked eyes and I laid there in anticipation.

He took off my cowgirl boots at a rushed pace and practically ripped my jeans off of my body and started kissing up my legs. He trailed himself over my panties, thick with arousal. Then, he started up my stomach again, causing me to bite my lip.

He holsted himself up on the counter and slowly crawled up my body to meet my lips again, this time more urgent. I got goosebumps as his hands roamed over my skin, his touch possessive and hungry. The kiss deepened as our bodies grinding together in an erotic dance. He broke the kiss only to whisper, "You're so damn irresistible.”

“I can't help it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my Neck. “You drive me wild.” His hands slid down my hips, my breath hitched as his hand slipped under my panties, teasing my sensitive flesh. "You make me lose control.”

I let out a moan, bucking my hips against his hand. “Oh fuck…” He muttered before his mouth claimed mine in a searing kiss. His hand slid between my thighs, finding my entrance. "So wet for me..." he growled against my lips.

I let out a soft moan, running my fingers through his hair “j-james…”

James groaned, his fingers tracing circles around my entrance. My eyes fluttered closed as the pleasure and his teasing invaded all my senses. His other hand moved to my breast, massaging it gently as he continued to tease my whole body.

“S-stop teasing”

I felt him smirking against my skin. “I won't promise that, but I'll give you what you want” His fingers finally penetrated me, making a loud moan escape my lips as he pushed inside slowly. I groaned, feeling myself tighten around his large fingers. “You feel so good,” he whispered, starting to thrust deeper.

I moaned as I leaked onto his palm, stroking his fingers back and forth to coat his hand in my wetness. I twitched as he circled my oozing entrance with one thick digit. His thumb sought out my nub, putting pressure on the aching knot of nerves. I cried out softly, pushing my hips into his hand as he toyed with my most sensitive area.

James's breath hitched. “You're so fucking amazing,” he murmured, I moaned as his fingers moving faster. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a fiery kiss while his thumb continued to tease my sensitive nub.

I clenched around his finger, making James groan into the kiss, his other hand moving to grip my waist. He kept thrusting his finger deeper, feeling the incredible heat surrounding him. His thumb pressed harder against my sensitive nub, as I felt my release approaching.

I hid my face in his neck as I made uncontrollable noises. He entered with a second finger, making me hiss. My tight hole swallowed his fingers like it was starving. He dragged his digits in and out of me, the tips of his fingers scraping the delicate spot residing inside me. I moaned, tilting my head back against the counter. His fingers found a rhythm, his pace increasing as he continued to torment and pleasure my sensitive nub. "So fucking tight,”

my legs shook with the pace he set, the thrusting of his fingers in rhythm with his pummeling fingers. A groan left my lips, my eyes rolling back. As I began to lose control, James took it as a sign. He picked up the pace even more, his fingers now moving in and out like a lover possessed. His thumb finally found release for my sensitive nub, rubbing it hard and fast as I reached the peak of pleasure.

“'m c-close” I shuttered and dug my nails into his back.

“Cum for me,” he groaned, his fingers finding a new rhythm inside me as I felt myself nearing the edge. His thumb continued to work my sensitive nub, his free hand reached above my head, gripping the counter tightly to maintain balance.

I let out a loud moan, cumming hard over his fingers and palm. James groaned, feeling my tight walls squeeze around his fingers. I shuttered as his thumb continued to work on my sensitive nub, his other hand tightening its grip on the counter. “Fuck... you feel so good,” he breathed, his fingers still buried deep inside me.

my heart pounded against my chest as I tried to catch my breath. I swallowed hard as my eyes fluttered shut with a satisfied smirk. James slowly pulled his fingers out, I felt the mix of my cum and his pre-cum dripped onto the inside of my thighs. “I'll have to remember this position,” he teased, his voice low and rough with desire.

I smirked up at him and blindly reached for his hips, I pulled his body against mine in a needy way. “I n-need you inside me” I whispered, my voice rough from the moans he forced out of me.

“You really think you're ready for that?” He asked, his eyes flashing with desire.

I quickly nodded, pulling his body closer to mine “please…”

James chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin made a shiver run down my spine. “Alright, but remember, I warned you.” With that, his hands grabbed my thighs and lifted them up, a moan fell from my lips as I felt him position his thick length at my aching entrance. I Instinctively pushed my hips up. This gave him a perfect angle to plunge into me as he teased his tip against my aching clit. I whined as he groaned deeply, still hazy from my climax but I never forgot I needed him inside me.

"Fuck..." James growled, my mouth dropped open as I felt every inch of him push deep inside me feeling as I tighten around his head. He pushed forward, slowly at first, as I stretched around his size. A strangled gasp escaped my throat. It felt like the air was stolen from my lungs. He rendered me breathless as he sank deeper inside you. “You're so damn tight,”

"I know," James groaned, pulling back slightly before thrusting forward again, I moaned and dug my nails into his back as he buried himself even deeper inside me. His hands had a death grip on my hips, possibly making marks that would show up the next morning. He held on tightly as he began to move faster, taking us both closer to the edge. “You feel so good,”

my lips separated as a loud moan forced its way from my chest. Finally, I got what I had been wanting since the day I met him. The euphoria was so strong, it was borderline painful.

“Oh fuck…” James panted, as I tighten around him with every thrust. He leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a rough, demanding kiss as he picked up the pace even more. “You're mine,” He growled against my lips. “Say it.”

“I-I'm yours!” I moaned, tugging at his hair. “I've always b-beem yours” I admitted without realizing.

James's thrusts grew harder and faster, his hips slamming against mine in a rhythm that threatened to send me over the edge a little too early. His free hand moved up to grip the side of the counter above my head, holding on tight as he lost himself in the sensation. “Fuck, yes... Cum for me”

I let out a loud moan, heat washing over me as his words pushed me over the edge. Growling, James groaned as my walls clenched around him. His hips stuttered in response, pushing as deep as he could go. He panted hard, feeling his own release drawing closer. With a final, powerful thrust, I felt my orgasm hit me like a truck. I came hard, making James's eyes roll back in his head triggering his own orgasam. His head fell against my chest, filling me up with his seed. His muscles tensed and shook against me, panting hard. "Fuck...,”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, painting as he painted my cervix white. I shuddered in sync with him, his seed hot inside my walls.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed out, his forehead resting against yours. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“M-me too” my breath hitched, pressing my forehead to his and nuzzling my nose against his.

He pulled out slowly, making me moan softly. “But you're mine now,” he growled, smirking down at me. “And we both know how much I love possessing what I can't have.”

I smirked. “Who says you can't have me?”

He chuckled, his chest still heaving from the intense release. “Oh, I could've,” he admitted, his fingers tracing soft patterns on my skin. “But the chase... the anticipation... that's what made it so damn irresistible.”

I chuckled, reaching up and placing my hand on his jaw, rubbing his cheek with my thumb. He chuckled and pecked me on the lips before standing up, he pulled his boxers back up and slowly sat me up from the counter. “let's get you cleaned up”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“where did you two doofuses go?” Seeley asked. My cheeks turned red at my brother's question.

“Just covering more ground, making sure we didn't miss anything” James said quickly.

Temperance looked at the both of us with a knowing smile. The woman truly knew everything. “well…You look way more relaxed than you did this morning Y/n” Temperance said, making my cheeks go reader.

[kawoid]

fake youth scooby-doo push pops on the corner of the roof fruit loops superfood

[heartfullofleeches]

ICE CREAM MACHINE GHOST LORE-

i am so down for learnin more about R 👀👀

Especially the idea of them and fast food reader catchin up on stuff R didnt get a chance to do???

Chefs kiss for R or maybe just even regular smooches for R

R was born June 1st, 1981 and went missing on the 2nd of June, 2002. This is important to mention not just to give a timeline to his short period alive, but also because he was a huge Scooby-Doo fan and really looking forward the live action film coming out around that time [June 14th]

Fast Food Reader unwinds from a stressful day, and rewards R for good behavior (aka going one day without slapping their ass with a dish rag) by wheeling in the tv used for training tapes and popping in a copy of Scooby-Doo - chilling with R as they watch it. Grabs the blankets they keep in their locker and sets up a little fort in the break room with popcorn and everything. Being the saint they are, Reader may offer to let him use their body so he can enjoy the snacks himself, but R wants to experience everything with them and snatches some poor suckers body to use. Reader doesn't understand why any of their coworkers like them, but then they do shit like this that reminds R a little of what he used to be and fall deeper in love with them with the humanity they've restored in him.

If Reader ever shows him what's new Scooby-Doo they would try to kill him again because he wouldn't stop singing the theme song.

-

R watches from behind the counter as you push the tarp covered trolley into the break room. After cleaning up for the day, you've been in and out of the room without saying much to him or answering his questions. The slam of a locker door and your shoes clicking across the hard floor draw you back to his spot as you fling your bag over your shoulder. You present the item retrieved from within, picking off the plastic film wrapped around the box.

"Hey, I'm done with work and still have a couple hours on the clock. Wanna watch this movie with me? Brought it for you."

"For me?" The confusion in his tone is genuine - still laced with that snarky tone he's known for. "What's the occasion? If you wanted to take me out on a date you could've been a little more romantic with your approach."

"Don't play dumb. You've been muttering lyrics to hex girls songs since I started working here when you think nobody is around. Took a while to figure out where they were from, but it's from a Scooby-Doo film so I thought you'd be interested in watching one with me."

R inspects the box art closer. There is something vaguely familiar about the girl with the orange sweater. Had a crush on someone just because they had the same square glasses and brown hair. That lovable, scared-cat mutt and his equally as jumpy human companion. He and his little brother used to have week long fights to see who got to be who for Halloween... They've taken on a different look, but they're still them. And he's still him. The same young adult who lept over the moon when he first saw that poster hung on the wall of his local theater.

"Got some popcorn and junk in the back. You can use my body for a minute if you want some. Try to make me strip in front of the bathroom mirrors and I will call an exorcist."

"While I appreciate the offer, there's no need." Leaping over the counter, R zips pass you and straight for locked front doors - phasing through the glass and into the body of the understandably terrified customer you chose to ignore as you closed up early. Their eyes briefly widen with fear before glossing over. R stretches, popping the stiff joints in his new body as he rounds the building - leaping through the still open drive through window. He strolls over to you, flashing that wide smile that looked bizarre on a living human face.

"I'm sure I'm better looking as I am, but this body doing anything for you?~"

"Whatever - let's just go."

His stolen heart leaps as you take his hand and pull him along with you to the back. It continues to pound in his ears as you enter the bathroom and take your seat on the floor, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him in the little fort you made using chair and old tablecloths. You take a blanket left on the floor and throw some of it in his lap as you pick up the remote.

"Comfortable?"

Reese looks down at his legs. He looks over at your hand still in his and squeezes it tighter. He fainty remembers the warmth of a high school crushes touch, but there's something different about it this time. The angry swarm of butterflies he felt in his stomach then are calm in the same way his mind is whenever he hears your voice.

"Yeah... I am...."

[papas-being-papas]

The Beginning There is a loud knock on the ministry door, causing Sister Imperator to sigh heavily and flip down her newspaper.

“Secondo!” She shouts, “Get the door!”

“I'm busy!” Secondo yells back, brushing his favorite doll's hair.

Sister Imperator groans and casts a sidelong glance at Primo before getting up and going to the door herself and pulling it open.

“I'm very sorry miss but-” she starts, only to get cut off by the irate woman.

“Take this fucking thing” the woman says shoving a baby in sister's hands “it's that fucking soccer one's kid”

“Soccer? Not a single one of my kids plays sports, do you mean Secando?”

“Ya! That's the bitch, Tell him to take his kid, I've done enough.” She snaps, as she throws her hands in the air and leaves.

Sister stands there for a moment, a blank stare on her face as she takes in the information.

“SECONDO! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!” She screeches, waking up the baby who starts to cry.

“I'm busy!” He yells back

“NO THE FUCK YOU ARE NOT! GET DOWN HERE OR I'M COMING UP!”

“Okay! Okay! I'm coming, woman!” He calls as he sets down the doll and stomps down the stairs, “What do you waaaaannnn-” he starts but cuts himself off when he sees the baby in her in her arms. His eyes go wide.

“Care to explain?” She asks as she holds the crying infant towards him.

“Thatsnontmine.” He replies a little too quickly.

“Mhm.” she says doubtfully.

Terzo pauses his walk down the hallway as he hears the commotion and he walks over towards Sister. He looks at the scene before his eyes land on the baby, “Is that a fuckin’ baby?”

Sister doesn't reply as she shoves the baby into Terzo's hands as Secondo takes off and she takes off after him.

Terzo looks down at the crying infant and starts to bounce him to try and soothe him, as his husbands walk into the room hearing the commotion, their jaws drop seeing Terzo with the baby.

“Did you give fucking birth?!” Alpha cries out.

“You think I did what?!” Terzo shrieks in shock.

“You know? Give birth. That thing your mother did and that's why you're here.” Omega asks as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I can't give birth!” Terzo cries absolutely flabbergasted.

“What do you mean you can't?” Alpha asks genuinely surprised.

“What do you mean I can?” Terzo retorts, as Secondo runs past them, pushing Terzo and the baby into Omega as Sister follows close behind him.

Secondo races up the stairs and down the hall past Copia’s room. Causing Copia to pop his head out curiously and see Secondo running. He looks back and sees Sister Imperator barling towards him.

“Oh shit!” Copia yells as he takes off in a dead run in the same direction as Secondo.

As they run through the ministry they pass Copia's ghouls (who were playing uno) who look up from their game and see Copia running and follow suit.

They come up on a hallway and start running Scooby-Doo style through the doors, no rhyme or reason.

Sister Imperator skids to a halt, staring in almost awe at the scene before her. She tries to see if she can find her target as they all crash into each other and end up in a pile on the ground.

“Copia?” She asks, confused, “What are you doing?”

“Running.” He says, almost guilty.

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Why?”

“Because Secondo was?” He offers softly.

“And your ghouls?” She asks more exasperatedly.

“When did my ghouls get here?” Copia asks, looking around.

Sister was about to try and get an answer, when she spots Secondo across the hall. She jumps over the pile of ghouls and Copia to continue her chase.

Secondo loops back around towards the stairs, and as he's barreling down, Sister grabs his arm, finally putting an end to the chase.

Terzo and the others look over at the two of them.

“Care to explain what all this is about?” Terzo asks, seeming already annoyed.

“This dipshit,” she says, holding up Secondo's arm, “didn't wear a condom.”

Terzo makes a face and holds the baby a bit further away from his chest. “So what do we do with it?”

Sister is quiet for a moment, looking at the now giggling baby in Terzo's arms, “Well, for now you and your husbands can take care of it.”

Terzo was about to protest when he feels both of his husbands wrap an arm around him, clearly excited by the idea.

Which causes him to sigh, “Oh alright.”

[deanobear67]

”It’s okay to not be okay.”

—————————————————————————

Drowning in your own thoughts is hard to share with others. Especially when you have no idea how to explain them. Thankfully dean understands fully.

—————————————————————————

warnings - fluff, comfort, Anxiety is mentioned, overwhelming thoughts, sadness, mild angst

Dean x gn!reader (mostly)

There is one sentence where he refers to the reader as she. Also the readers hair is long enough to put behind their ear.

Thank you for overwhelming support on my first fic!! I’m not sure how often I’ll post but i’m going to try to post every once and awhile!

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

You were staring blankly at the tv in the ‘dean cave’, as you sink into the couch. A small blanket covered half of you, keeping you from feeling the cold air of the bunker. The lights were low, making the room feel like it knew what you were feeling. Miracles head was in your lap as he laid beside you.

You forgot he was even there for a minute. Too distracted by the running thoughts in your head. You were surprised he followed you in here a couple hours ago. Usually it’s rare that he leaves Deans side.

He sensed your emotions like dogs do. Gently pushing his nose into your thigh every now and then trying to comfort you. Your hand subconsciously petting his head as you zoned out again. 

Not even a few minutes later, Miracle popped his head up from your lap. His ears arched as he listened to something. You look towards the cracked door as you hear soft footsteps echo in the hallway. Dean entered not long after, looking between you and the tv.

You felt guilt flood your stomach as you had no excuse for why you weren’t in bed. Except your anxiety keeping you awake, making you feel embarrassed about it. Even though it wasn’t embarrassing at all….was it? 

You could tell he just woke up not long ago. The sleep around his eyes now fading as he grew more concerned. His gray robe thrown over a black shirt with a pair of scooby-doo pj pants you got him, Halloween edition. 

“Hey” Dean said quietly as he sat next to you on the couch. He reached out to pet miracle who moved to him excitedly. “Hey” You replied after a minute of watching the interaction.

You went back to the tv as your hands laid in your lap unsure what to do. You could feel his warm gaze knowing he was finding the right words to say. 

“Can’t sleep?” Dean muttered after a minute not expecting you to answer. You nodded slowly after a moment. Looking down at your hands as you messed with them. You knew he wouldn’t judge you for your thoughts. You just didn’t know how to explain them. 

Dean continued to stare at you for the next few minutes petting the excited dog. “I get that….but I want you to know something.” He said quietly as he stopped petting Miracle. He reached over grabbing one of your hands gently to ground you. 

“It’s okay to not be okay…” He gently squeezed your hand as he caressed the back of your palm with his thumb. “Sometimes…that’s just how it is…..but you can’t hold it in all the time until it you can’t stand it anymore.” After a minute he chuckled to himself. “Hell maybe I should take that advice myself.”

You laughed with him as you felt a bubble in your throat appear. A few seconds pass in silence before he speaks again. “You know I worry about you.” He pauses to let out a breath. “And I know sometimes it’s hard to explain what you’re feeling.” 

He moved a bit closer, scooting Miracle out of the way gently. He let go of your hand to run it over your back. “Which I understand but I don’t…I don’t want you to shut me out all the time sweetheart.” You sighed softly as you adjusted yourself against the couch.

“Look at me please..” Dean asked softly as he placed his hand on the back of your neck. You hesitated as you felt the emotion build up in you after holding it in for so long. “Honey, look at me.” He said a little bit louder. You finally turned your head to look at him.

Dean smiled softly at you, gently putting a piece of your hair behind your ear. “There she is.” His smiled widened as he softly caressed your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile back but it quickly faded as you felt your lip quivering. 

You went to turn away feeling embarrassed again. “Hey” Dean gently grabbed your chin, turning you back towards him. “It’s okay…” He caress over your cheek again as he softly smiled. 

You felt the pressure build up in your eyes. You licked your dry lips as you stared at him, finally ready to give into the feeling. “I don’t know how to be okay.” You muttered through a broken voice as tears fell against your cheeks.

Dean frowned for a moment pulling you closer to him. “I know..” He whispered back to you. You wipe a few tears before he could. “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m alone at the end of the day.” You didn’t want to admit it to him but you did feel alone. Dean brought you love, protection and a feeling of home. Sometimes thoughts can seep in long enough to the point where you can’t ignore them anymore.

“Oh baby..” Dean muttered bringing you into his arms. He held the back of your head as you tucked yourself into his neck. He hated seeing you like this, hell it pained him too. “I’m here…I’m right here honey.”

He continued to caress the back of your head and back. “Let it out, I’m not going anywhere.” He muttered as he felt the tremble in your body against his hand. Eventually you soon calmed down, completely relaxed against him. You pulled back from his neck to wipe your face.

“Don’t apologize.” He whispered with a soft gaze knowing you were going to. You laughed softly before kissing his cheek. You laid your head back on his shoulder. His presence seeping into your loneliness, comforting you with its warmth. 

For tonight you decided to let him in again. Needing him to lean on, you let yourself accept the help. He covers you with the blanket you were using earlier. He decided to let you two stay like this for awhile before he would take you to bed. 

“I got you sweetheart” He whispered against the top of your head, holding you close. He felt his protective side kick in, trying to shield you from the thoughts of yourself for a bit. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ thank you so much for reading!! <3 :)

[or-did-i-dont-didnt-send-it]

They knew who they were going to give that race to going into it lmao.

Lando just spontaneously has car issues that need fixed right before lights out? Yeaaaah, sure.

And then they didn't have any special hats or celebratory merchandise around for Lando's, a driver who has been part of their team in a reserve driver or active driver role since 2018, maiden win, but they just so happened to have enough OP1 hats just randomly laying around the paddock for all the team members to wear?

Not to mention the slowing Lando down throughout the ENTIRE race with these absurd claims his tyres were going off. And when he finally caught on that it was bullshit when they were begging him to just let Piastri by, suddenly he's the fastest driver on track by a long shot. Funny how that works.

He wasn't going to win that race going into it. He never had a chance. Andrea Stella made sure of that, and if Lando has any braincells and actually wants a WDC in his career, he'd be trying to find a way out of that contract.

They knew who they were going to give that race to going into it lmao.

Yep. Exactly.

I started getting this really icky feeling during the first part of the race. I could go all the way into it and I probably will later but for now I’ll just say that if anyone wants to look at Lando’s onboard, it is blatantly clear that they had Will hold Lando back for majority of that race.

There is no way Lando suddenly pulled that pace out of his ass. They never planned to give him a chance to actually fight for that win after lap 1 and it was depressing to watch. And I agree that he caught on. And I’m glad he made a point.

Part of me wishes he would have just taken the win and the other part knows he did the right thing on protecting himself after the team gave him the message loud and clear that they would make him regret it.

It was probably an absolute scene, me getting ready for church and jumping up and down yelling at Lando to “be a cunt!!! Don’t you dare give up your position!!!” Lol.

I really hoped this team would reciprocate his loyalty and dedication, pushing away the little red flags that have been popping up for me since some choices they made during races in 2023. But Andrea and McLaren really scooby doo villained themselves today and tore the masks off. It’s very disappointing.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Funions & Scooby Snacks

Just a scene that came up in my head I’m shocked I felt motivated to write at all but here’s a apocalyptic steddie au where Steve is nonverbal. I might try to edit it better later who knows

Eddie slams his cross bow down, throwing himself to the floor not moving his watchful eyes from Steve. His hair is greasy, sticking to his forehead and matted together from weeks of no shower. His face was covered in dirt but Steve had already grown used to this look on the other. Steve doesn’t say anything, stays seated with his legs crossed as he slowly chews on the stale gummy Scooby Doo snacks he found at the gas station a couple of miles back. They were probably outdated but they were something.

“I can’t believe you are seriously sitting in front of me right now, eating Scooby doo snacks while I sit here and starve!” Eddie snaps. He gets grumpy when he’s hungry, but they also both know he didn’t like the texture of the gummy’s. He would spend a longer time holding himself back from throwing up then bitching about being hungry.

Steve doesn’t say anything, never does. Just looks over the fire at him as he purposely pulls another gummy from the small back. Letting the crinkling sounds echo through the woods. Before putting a show on as he pops the gummy into his mouth and begins to chew slowly again. A grin forming on his face as he watches Eddie dramatically gasp. Looking even more offended then before.

“How fucking dare you.” Eddie’s voice is loud, not afraid of the horrors in the woods. Both of them incredibly numb to it, knowing what to do if the man eaters came in crowds instead of being separated and by themselves.

Steve shakes his head amused, smile the only thing showing that he was finding this situation hilarious. Holding back soft chuckles as Eddie dramatically crawls around the fire. Grabbing his bow and carrying it with him out of instinct. Dropping it off to the side in reaching distance as he gets into Steve’s personal space.

Eddie still held a grumpy look on his face, possibly for a few seconds before a grin takes it’s place as he moves forward and tries to steal a gummy. Earning a slap from Steve who glares at him now. Causing Eddie to pout as he flops back down in the dirt dramatically. They both knew that he could catch a squirrel or some small animal for himself easily. Him acting like he was going to die from starvation had become a very common acting skit when they sat alone.

“Oh you have wounded me Stevie! Absolutely wounded me!” His voice is higher pitch, a southern accent poking through as Steve shakes his head amused. Before he moves over to his bag and pulls out a small bag of funions. Throwing them a bit aggressively in Eddie’s face as Eddie pretends to flop around like it hurt worst then what it actually did.

It takes a moment for Eddie to process what Steve gave him, a pause in silence. Before a loud gasp is in the air. “Oh, Stevie I could marry you. You know what-” Steve hears the bag ripping from behind him, the crinkling noise loud and annoying before Eddie is pushing himself off his back and moving forward. Making sure to get Steve’s attention.

“Stevie poo, apple to my pie, the nut to my cheerio, the fruit to my loop, the-“ Steve slaps him in the arm giving him a glare as Eddie laughs manically. Head tossed back as he does. Before he moves crouching into Steve’s space. Holding one of the funions in his hand. A funky looking round ring as he moves taking one of Steve’s hands in his. “Will you marry me puddin?” He teases.

How neither of them weren’t dating yet was beyond Steve’s comprehension. Yet this seemed more fitting for Eddie. He pretends to be offended at the thought of being married to the other before a grin grows on his face as he gives the other his answer with one look. Eddie stumbles over himself as he slides the edible ring on Steve’s finger.

“I do.” Steve says gently, barely above a whisper.

Eddie’s never heard him speak once in the past year and a half they’ve been running around together. A starstruck look on his face as he looks at Steve like he just hung the moon.

Steve’s face is a soft pink as he looks at the other carefully. Eddie grins before he’s tackling Steve, gummies going all over along with the ring on his finger snapping in half in the dirt. Eddie’s on top as his hand carefully caresses Steve’s face. Moving down and gently kissing the other. Both of them wrapped up in their own universe. Pulling away after a moment. Silence taking over them once again before Eddie (like normal) interrupts.

“I don’t think I’m starving anymore Mr.Munson.” He teases as he moves back in for another kiss.

[gwydpolls]

Lost Foods

Suggestions from Reader's vs the previous winner.

NOTE: I feel the need to clarify some things about what constitutes a lost/discontinued food for the purposes of this poll.

I have never heard of some things in this series of polls and I'm taking people's word that they are lost foods. Some things from other countries or regions people suggested to me were things I'd never heard of. (Shout out to Aussie pollywaffles from the first poll. They sounded amazing and i feel for your loss though I'd literally never heard of them until they were suggested). Some things are possibly no longer available in the region or country where the suggester lives (Kavli, apparently).

I am assured by and endless barrage of commercials that Dunkin Donuts exists. I haven't seen one in person in a couplish decades. People tell me Ikea exists. I haven't seen one since the early '90's.

If it's something someone loves that used to be commonly available in their country or region that they can't get without crossing a border, international shipping expenses, traveling more than fivish hours, or a time machine, I'm calling it fair game.

I'd rather be inclusive than exclusive with these polls in general.

I am not counting things like that one particular special sauce that one food truck used to have that went out of business or things that people bake/cook at home if they have a reasonable amount of money, skill, and time, but most people would by in a bakery.

Note 2: I am getting some questions about the sherbet pops. The sherbet pop category represents things like Flintstones and Scooby Doo versions that no longer exist. I have no idea if the frozen sherbet push up pop type in general still exists where an individual person might exist or even where I exist.

I would have clarified in poll 1, if I had been more aware of sherbet pops in general except as something my mom liked now and then when i was small. I knew people were upset the version from their childhood was missing, but not the complexity of sherbet push up pop history.

Apologies, to anyone I distressed yesterday.

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

It All Melts Away

Also on Ao3

Day 2 of the Dead Boy Detectives Pride Month Prompts- Storm

It was an odd night for the agency. Their current case required a living person to be monitored at all times. While the girls did the best tailing they could during the day, only the boys were able to keep track of their target inside the house at night.

It did give the girls a night off, so they made the most of it.

Crystal roamed around their small, joint kitchen, popping popcorn and gathering other various snacks and sodas.

Niko opened Crunchyroll up on the television. “I hope you like this one,” she called out as she scrolled through. “It’s my favorite. I’ve seen it over a dozen times. Well, I stopped counting after twelve.”

Crystal smiled at her girlfriend as the microwave dinged. She moved the popcorn into a bowl next to the pretzels and chips. “Can you lend me a hand moving everything over?”

Niko hummed in acknowledgment as she hovered over the first episode of Yuri On Ice. She hopped off the couch and grabbed the empty glasses and soda bottles. Crystal gave her a quick cheek kiss and led the way to the couch.

The two swiftly laid out their hoard and cuddled together on the couch, pulling a fluffy blanket across their laps. Niko looked up from where she was nestled against Crystal’s chest and quietly said, “I’ll try not to talk over the whole thing this time.”

Crystal kissed her love’s forehead. “What if I like it when you do?” she whispered into the other’s hair.

Niko smiled brightly, turning on the show as an answer. She mouthed along to the intro as Yuri talked about Victor giving him “an unending chain of surprises” before immediately humming the intro. 

“Watch this one closely,” Niko interjected, drawing Crystal’s attention. “This one is different than all of the other episodes. There aren’t any background colors because light hasn’t come into Yuri’s life yet.” 

Crystal wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but she nodded and focused on the show, assuming the answer would be clear once she watched more.

Right before the title card, a huge crash of thunder sounded outside. Niko jumped and latched even tighter onto Crystal. “You okay, sweetheart?” Crystal asked, wrapping her arms firmer around Niko.

“Yeah,” Niko replied, voice trembling slightly. “Let’s just keep watching.” Crystal noticed her girlfriend was lightly shaking in her arms but agreed to continue.

Victor won his fifth Grand Prix gold medal as Yuri despaired over his last-place finish. Niko perked up a bit as she talked in tandem with the Chibi Yuri giving a quick rundown of his backstory. 

But, right as Plisetski threw a kick into the bathroom stall, another wave of thunder shook their cozy bliss.

Niko let out a small, startled yelp and buried her face in her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Crystal sighed and reached for the remote with one hand. “Why down we turn this off, and we can–”

“No!” Niko yelled, grabbing the controller. The girls froze. Niko turned her head down, unable to make eye contact. She took a deep breath and continued, “Having something on helps. It’s a good distraction, and I really want to watch this with you.”

Crystal lowered the remote onto their laps. “We don’t have to do this now. We could watch another Scooby Doo if that would help instead. You don’t have to push on for me.” She wanted to put her hand on top of the one Niko had fisting into the blanket.

“No, just…” She scrunched the blanket tighter. “Is it okay if I put on my headphones? It helps block out the background noise. I promise I’m still listening. It’ll just dull the thunder.”

Crystal smiled softly and carefully squeezed Niko. “I hope you would. Who else is going to give me excellent commentary? I’m not gonna learn that the animators were told to put special attention on the skaters butts from anyone else.”

Niko giggled at her love and gave a quick kiss on the back of Crystal’s free hand. “I’ll be right back. Rewind to what you last saw while I’m gone.”

Niko scrambled away as Crystal hollered, “On it!”

Niko returned a few moments later with her cat ear headphones on and already looking a bit brighter. The television was set to Yuri crying alone in his stall moments before disaster.

Niko snuggled into her former position on Crystal with her girlfriend sticking her head between the ears to kiss Niko’s head. “Ready?” Crystal asked.

“Mhmm!” Niko responded, cuddling closer. 

The next thunder crash sounded a couple of minutes later, but it didn’t disturb the pair.

Crystal gasped. “That bitch!”

Niko nodded. “Didn’t even treat him like a fellow competitor.”

They made it halfway through episode four before falling asleep.

[olsenmyolsen]

Unpaid Intern

Part 6 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: ~5.7K

masterlist

🚨 SMUT AHEAD 🚨

Y/N POV

"Do you want kids someday?" I blurt out without realizing it.

Liz gets up and sits up next to me. "I think so?" Liz begins playing with her fingers. I notice she does this when she's nervous and anxious. So I take her hands and put them in my own. "Do you?" Liz asks as her finger gently traces the line inside my palms.

"I do."

"What would you like to name them?" Liz asks, now leaning herself onto me. "Luke, Clementine, Wanda, Taylor, and Clove are my top five. "Wanda, huh" I hear Liz mutter to herself. I nudge her. "Gotta problem with the name Wanda?" Liz lets out a wide grin. "No, I think it's one of the most beautiful names ever. It's one of my favorites." One baby name down, then. I think to myself, "Glad we could agree." I peck the top of her head.

I see Liz thinking. "Do you believe in soulmates?" I open my mouth to answer before remembering how I felt for the longest time that Naomi was my soulmate. "Yes, I do. But I believe everyone has multiple soulmates. I believe I've met one already." I pause when I see Liz raise an eyebrow. "My ex." Liz frowns. "Don't get me wrong; I still think she is one of the worst people ever. But I wouldn't be where I am right now without her."

I watch Liz's pretty face think about what I said. "I completely understand what you mean. I feel like I've already met one or two of mine. I don't hate them. But you're right. I think meeting soulmates helps you on the path to your future soulmate. Hopefully, one who you want to share a life with."

"Couldn't agree more, Liz."

The movie has officially become background noise to us.

Liz giggles. "Do you believe in Zodiac signs?"

"Nope!" I say, popping the 'p' "Do you?"

"Only if they work."

"Okay. Let's see." I think about what to ask. "Dogs or cats?" Liz gives me a look. "Plants." I dramatically roll my eyes. "No sass, Coffee Girl!" Liz shames me as I watch her hand fall onto my knee, softly rubbing the area.

"Do you like your job?" Liz asks, rubbing my leg. "I do. It's nice. It's cool to know you're a constant in your regulars lives, as weird as that sounds. Also, meeting new people can have surprising outcomes." I pull Liz's hand up to my lips. "Plus, I make a pretty good ass coffee."

"Yeah, the coffee from your shop is better than some unpaid interns." I laugh at her matter-of-fact statement.

I think of a new question. "Oh, I got one!" Liz looks at me excited, waiting. "What was your gay awakening?" Liz's mouth drops. She was not expecting this. Liz crossed her arms. "Nu-uh. Next, please."

"Oh, come on! That's not fair. If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine!" Liz shakes her head no. "Come on. Is it super embarrassing? I promise I won't make fun of you! If I tell you, one of mine will tell me yours?"

"Maybe." That's the most I'm going to get.

"This is a judgment-free zone we're about to enter, right?" Liz uncrosses her arms, smiles, and squeezes my thigh, letting me know she's here for me. "Linda Cardellini as Velma in the live-action Scooby-Doo movies. Also, the Hex Girls in the animated Scooby-Doo movie!" I get out as fast as possible.

Wait, I'm seeing a pattern here.

Liz covers her mouth to push back a laugh I know she has in the chamber. I see the ends of her mouth curl up. "Is that why you're favorite color is orange?" There it is. I get up from the couch in shame. "Agghhh," I groan.

"Y/N, you know I'm kidding." I stop and pout away from Liz. "I'm sorry. You were being vulnerable with me! I'm sorry." I can hear her smile through her apology. Liz wraps her hands around my stomach and rubs. I instantly feel myself feeling better. How does she do it?

"So, are you gonna tell me yours, Miss?" "Maybe someday," Liz whispers into my shoulder. I know I can't get it out of her, so I pull my phone out, turning to Liz. Within seconds of opening Spotify, I put on Dancing Queen by ABBA. I place my phone on the coffee table before asking for Liz's hand to dance. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"  Liz curtsies. I take Liz's hand and pull her toward me. Chest to chest. My hand slides down to her lower back. "There's always a good time to dance, and who doesn't love ABBA." Liz follows my lead as silly as this dance is becoming. But she's smiling and letting herself have fun. That's what today was about.

"You know I did ballet for years?" I look at her, surprised. Why should I be? She's one of the most beautiful beings on the planet, plus she's a model, for god sake. "Care to bust out those moves?" Liz comedically shakes her head no. I push my forehead to hers, singing along to the lyrics. Liz looks into my eyes. "I can't believe this song is about you," I say to watch her emerald orbs roll.

_

Liz and I are both laying on the floor, letting the sweat take us over. After Dancing Queen, my playlist really did hit us with Lady Gaga, Kate Bush, Queen, Harry Styles, and many more artists, so we couldn't help but groove out. "That was so fun! I can't remember the last time I had an impromptu dance party." Liz says in between pants. "Correct, you are Chase. Correct you are." "Oh, shit, look." I peer up to see Liz point to Gone with the Wind. "It's over? Damn, I was just getting into it!" I don't need to see it, but I feel Liz rolling her eyes at what I just said. She needs to stop doing that. They're going to pop out one day. Liz crawls herself towards me. "Hardy har har." Liz positions herself above my face to face.

"Are you gonna kiss me or just stare? I've recently heard it's insulting to stare." I smile to myself for being such a smart ass. "Well, I wasn't going to kiss you, but since I don't want to be rude." Liz leans down and kisses me. I kiss her back, slowly picking up my pace. I feel her push harder against me. I hear a small moan escape Liz's lips when I come for air. I pull her face forward and attack her lips again.

Before I know it, I'm the one letting a tiny moan slip out the side of my mouth. Liz responds by moving herself on top of me, straddling me. Liz starts kissing down my cheek and neck, moaning, making goose bumps zap down my body. I feel her slightly under my hands as they start working their way up under her shirt. Her toned body feels so good. Is this all from gardening?

I moan into Liz's head as she reached my collar bone. "Fuck Liz" She keeps moving her body further down. Her hands are working their way up my chest. One hand softly brushing my neck. I go to remove her shirt but stop.

"Liz?" She looks up at me. "Yes, my Coffee Girl?"

"Do I have your consent?" Liz nods. Not good enough. "I need a yes, Liz."

"Yes, Y/N Y/L/N, you have my consent. 100%." Liz smiles and starts attacking my chest and body again. In response, I rip her shirt off her body and see what only my drunk eyes have seen. Oh my god. I left hickeys all over her chest too. Liz's eyes follow mine. "Like what you see?" Her bare chest with my marks? Yes!

I smirk. "I love it. Come here." I scoop Liz up, making her laugh as I carry her to the bed. I gently put Liz onto the bed. Within a second, she rips my shirt off as I kick off my shorts. Liz goes to remove her shorts as well, but I grab her wrist and put them above her head. "These stay right here. Okay, Miss? You gonna be good for me?" Liz nods. "I don't want to have to punish you." I wink.

I spread Liz's legs as I kiss my way up her body. I hear Liz whimper as I go past her knee and up her thighs. I look up at her eyes shut, lips puckered in. I keep going before stopping at her shorts. I hover my mouth over where clit is and wrap my mouth around the area. Letting my mouth soak her shorts. I suck in feeling her.

"Please take them off!" The model below me moans. I oblige, wrapping my fingers in the hands of her shorts. I slowly peel the shorts down her legs. Just as I thought. Liz isn't wearing any panties, and she's dripping for me. I look up to Liz, red in the face. "So naughty!" She groans. "Shut up and fuck me!"

"Oh, so is that really how we're going to do this? You've been warned, Chase." I back up and position myself off the edge of the bed. Liz looks a little confused before she realizes. I grab her legs and pull her towards me. Without warning, I dive my tongue straight into her clit, moving my tongue up and down as fast as I can, only stopping to harshly suck on her clit. Liz moans loudly explicits as I pick up speed. I feel Liz's hands grab onto my hair. I pull my mouth away and scold her, "what did I say? Hands stay above your head!"

Liz looks down at me, pissed, but obeys." Liz can't see my hands, so I take advantage and begin moving my index and middle finger over her folds. Her legs shake in response, and my fingers are dripping wet within seconds. "Do you want this baby?" Liz whimpers out something I can't quite make out. "I said do you want this?" I continue teasing.

"Y-Yes pleas-e!"

"Good girl!" I slowly slide my fingers in. The sounds escaping from Liz echo off the walls. "You're being so such a good girl!" I quicken my pace, placing my thumb on her clit, rubbing in a circular motion. I work my left hand up Liz's thigh stopping at her hip giving her a squeeze and a push. I run my mouth over her thighs and the top of pussy. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Liz go to grab my hair before stopping herself, gripping the sheets below her, balling them up in her hands' white knuckles and all. "Y/N- fuck baby- I-"

I decide to take my chances and add a third finger. "Fuck!!" She pushes her legs up towards herself, allowing me to position myself deeper into her."Go ahead, baby cum for me!" I watch as Liz gasps for air. Her mouth moves, but nothing comes out.

"Cum for mommy!" And just like that, Liz, let's go. I watch her green eyes roll back on her pretty pink face before they come back to look down at me. Her heavy breathing returns as she comes down. I softly slide my fingers out as I look back at her. I put my fingers up to my mouth, licking them. "So sweet." I wink at the gorgeous woman in front of me.

"Come here." Liz weakly lets out as her breathing begins to go back to normal. I oblige her by crawling up the bed to lay down beside her. I close my eyes and kiss her flushed cheeks. When I open them, she's staring right at me. Her eyes are holding in more than she's telling me. But it looks like pure love or lust.

Liz pulls herself into me. We are now stomach to stomach. Legs wrapped around one another. "So, how bad was it?" I huskily whisper. Liz smiles and kisses me "so bad I definitely didn't just have one of the best orgasms ever." I kiss her ear "damn, guess I better try again." Liz giggles. She has no idea how big of a grin I get hearing her laughter. "Maybe another time, Coffee Girl. I'm still recovering... ya know from how awful it was!" A smirk falls onto Liz's face. "Understandable." I lean in and kiss the girl I've officially fallen for.

_

I rub my eyes open, and to my disappointment, I'm alone in Liz's bed. "Liz?" Escapes my lips with a groggy tone. No response. I try again but louder, "Liz?" This gets a response because the bedroom door flies open with Liz on the other side, back in her t-shirt and shorts. "Coffee Girl!" She squeals, jumping onto the bed. "I was beginning to think you'd never wake up!" Oh my God, what a fucking cutie this one is.

"I don't even remember falling asleep. How long was I out?" "Almost two hours," Liz says nonchalantly. My mouth drops. "Liz! Oh no! Today was our day! Why didn't you wake me up I-"

"Y/N. Don't worry about it! You look too peaceful and pretty to wake up. It also gave me time to answer my team and people in greater detail."

Oh, that's good. Right?

"Plus, I ordered us some dinner. I was going to make it, but I remembered what you said, and oh boy, you're right. I don't have any food! So come on, get up and dressed. If you want, that is." Liz winks and leaves me alone in the bedroom to freshen up and get dressed.

Once I'm done, I walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. "Jesus, Liz, it's only us two!" I say, shocked at the amount of Mexican food I see in front of me. You would think a house party is about to happen. "I know it's a lot! But I wasn't sure what your favorite dish was, so... tada!" Liz throws her arms out, shaking her hands. "You're such a dork! Thank you for this, Liz."

I look into Liz's eyes, seeing the care and love in them. I once again thank Liz for her thoughtful choice for dinner and be sure to shower her in kisses before I begin stacking my plate. I don't mean to, but I make a quick comment about food waste, but Liz assures me that won't happen.

I don't know where in the hell Liz got the food from, but it has officially become my favorite spot! I can't explain it, but it's like a five-star meal wrapped in that hometown Mexican restaurant your family loves. You know the one.

Liz and I finally finish our meal only after I made sure to thank her and tell her how much I love this place's food a hundred more times! Liz goes to take our plates, but I stop her from leaving the table. "You cooked, so I clean." "But I-" "I can't hear you, Liz. You're too busy not wanting to clean these dishes." I walk myself into the kitchen and put all the food away so Liz can have leftovers. After that, I begin to clean the dishes.

"Fine." Liz pushes herself off the dining room table, playfully pouting as she shimmies her butt to the living room, ensuring I'm not missing the show. I watch the beaut sit on the couch, turn to me give me a goofy smile before drawing her attention to the tv. I glance at Liz as she sucks her lips into her mouth; she appears nervous, scrolling through the TV.

_

I close the fridge door. Everything has been cleaned and put away. I smile to myself at a job well done. A job I haven't even done to my place in who knows how long. Sure, I tidy it up when I have Max come over, but nothing like what I just did for Liz's kitchen.

"Y/N?" I look at Liz on the couch with my phone in her hand. I tilt my head confused. "Yeah?" I carefully make my way to Liz. "You have two missed calls from Max." "Oh shit," I reply, worried and confused. It's not like Max to call me. I sit next to Liz as she watches me call Max back. On the screen, Liz has a movie called Martha Marcy May Marlene paused at the beginning.

After a couple of rings, Max answers.

M: "Dude, where the hell are you?"

Y/N: "At Liz's. Why?"

Liz looks at me curiously. I shrug.

M: "Dude, hello, movie night. As in tonight is the night you finally watch the MCU. Wait, did you, Liz!? You slut, omg!"

I slap my hand against my forehead.

Y/N: "Shit, dude, you're right. I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm in the city, and yes, Liz's! But I can be there."

Liz turns her head away from me and turns the TV off.

M: "Whoa, Y/N, if you're with Liz, this can wait!

Y/N: "Are you sure?"

M: "Hell yeah! But look, I'm probably just gonna chill at your place till you come home, that is if you do come home."

Y/N: "Yeah, that's cool. Once again, I'm sorry, Max, it slipped my mind."

M: "No worries. Just want you to be happy. Later whore."

Y/N: "Yeah yeah."

Max ends the call.

I close my phone and turn toward Liz. "Sorry that was-" Liz cuts me off. "I know. I heard. I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to steal you away from Max." The look in Liz's eyes is a look of guilt.

"Hey, don't apologize and say that. You didn't steal me away. I've enjoyed every single second with you. Even holding you while you let everything out this morning. I'm the one that lost track of time, plus Max is my best friend. They understand. So put the movie you were going to show me back on." I go to grab the remote, but Liz stops me. She places my hand in hers. Liz goes to speak but stops herself. Thinking about what to say.

"Y/N." I don't believe my name has ever been spoken as softly as it just was. "Look at me." Liz places two fingers under my chin and lifts them, so our eyes meet. "Earlier, I asked you for a day together—just one. And you've done way more than you even realize for me since then. I genuinely appreciate it." Liz clears her throat. "I thank you. I just want you to know that everything we said to one another remains. I do feel you and want to continue to feel you."

Liz looks away. I can feel the word coming.

"But." There it is. She turns back to me."Like I said earlier, I have a lot going on that I need to figure out before I want you to become more a part of my life."

What the heck does that mean? Does she see a future with me?

"So within the next couple of days, I'm going back to London." Liz sniffles and swallows the tears she's trying to keep in. "Before I leave, during my stay, and after, I want to be in contact with you. I don't want to lose any part of what we've built up till now. Yes, I know everything between us has happened super crazy soon, but I like it. I know, or at least I hope you feel the same Y/N. I'm not trying to say goodbye to you or anything; I am trying to make you understand."

A single tear falls from Liz's face. My hand instinctively wipes at the trail on her face. I listened to every word that dripped from Liz's mouth. A part of it hurts, but yes, I understand.

I cup Liz's face and pull her into a slow passionate kiss. Liz wraps her arms around my body as our lips part. "I understand. I do. A part of me doesn't want you to go, and I wish you could just tell me everything you have inside of you, but I can wait. I know that's what the underlying question is."

I push our faces together, feeling the tears fall from Liz's eyes onto my cheeks. "Okay. So this is super awkward now because we just said all of that, and now I feel like that's my cue to leave." Liz and I giggle at the obvious yet painful observation. "Let me help you get everything," Liz says, getting up and wiping the tears away.

Liz POV

Within what feels like a minute, I have a tote bag full of Y/N's clothes from last night, two Tupperware containers full of Mexican, and a fruit roll-up all packed up for her to take. "Are you sure you want me to keep this?" Y/N says, flaunting my t-shirt and now grey sweat shorts.

"Yes! I want you to be comfortable and have something to remember me beside the memories for now." I look Y/N over. "Plus, you look ridiculously hot in such a simple outfit."

"And here I thought you didn't want me." Y/N clearly teases, but it still stung just a little bit. I watch her slip on her vans and look around for her phone. "Already in the bag, Coffee Girl." I slip the tote over her shoulder and kiss her on the cheek. This fucking sucks. "Okay, as I mentioned, a car is already downstairs waiting for you. Just tell the driver where you need to go. Call or text me when you get home!"

I open the door for my girl. She, in her own sulky way, exits the apartment door. I grab her wrist and spin her around to face me. "Y/N, thank you so much." I pause. "I meant everything I said on the couch, okay? I feel you." A flush of pink shines over her face. "I know you did, Liz. You know everything I said and did today, I meant with my heart. I'll text you when I'm home." Y/N shuffles her feet to move but doesn't; instead, she plants a kiss of pure bliss. "I feel you too." With that said, I watch her walk down the hall and into the elevator, out of sight but not out of mind.

Y/N POV

As I reach the lobby, it hits me what a bittersweet moment this is. I exit the elevator, still lost in thought about everything with Liz, before I hear my name from a voice I don't recognize.

"Miss Y/N?"

I look up to see the doorman of the building. Does he know my name? "Yes?" I hesitantly ask. The man looks at me, confused. "I said I hope to see you again, Miss Y/N." That's when it hits me.

A very drunk Liz and I, hand in hand, enter the building. We walk straight past the doorman before Liz turns us around. "Mr. Madison, I'd like to introduce you to Miss Y/L/N, a special friend of mine."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Y/L/N." Mr. Madison extends his white-gloved hand to me. I promptly take it and begin shaking his hand. "Just call me Y/N next time you see me." I realize I have yet to stop shaking Mr. Madiosn's hand. "I'm shaking your hand too long." I awkwardly let go and bid him farewell, following Liz into the elevator.

"Mr. Madison?" He nods. "Thank you for being so kind," I say to him as I exit. Once I step out, I am meant by paparazzi, but I realize they're not for me because why would they be? A rush of flashes goes off as someone enters the building. Liz lives here and is a model, so it would make sense that other people like her would too.

After watching the paparazzi do their annoying thing. I find the car and the driver Liz told me about. Miss Y/L/N?" I shake my head yes. I go to enter the car but first. "And you are?" The man smiles. "Mr. Bronson." "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bronson. Please call me Y/N." The man agrees and helps me into the car. Once he gets in the vehicle and routes us to my place, I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding. Mr. Bronson told me he texted my friend to let her know I was secure.

Throughout the drive, I made small talk with Mr. Bronson. I asked him multiple times to give me his first name, but he refused, not in a mean way, just in a nice formal way. It turns out he has a wife and two kids. I apologize for taking him away from them tonight. He calms my worries and says the amount he gets paid; he makes sure to make it up to his kids. I asked him if he was our driver last night, to which he replied yes. He said he made sure to give us privacy the previous night, so I embarrassingly got the picture of what he meant. Small talk is something I don't do anymore, so having it with new people is nice.

_

Liz POV

I returned to the couch after Y/N left. It hits me what a bittersweet moment this is. I'm beyond thrilled with everything that happened between us, but it hurts knowing it might be a long time till I can see her again. Plus, I still have to face everything I've been ignoring. I'm lost in thought about everything with Y/N.

My phone next to me lights up. It's a text from Mr. Bronosn telling me the package is secure. I chuckle and blame his son Billy for that phrase. A man as old as Mr. Bronoson should not be using that vocabulary. I send him a thank you text and ask him to ensure she enters her building without a problem.

I put my phone down on my coffee table and decided to distract myself with some trashy TV. I go to grab the remote, but a set of knocks from my door stop me. I cautiously make my way over, unlocking and opening the door.

"Robbie?"

Y/N POV

Not too much longer, and we're out in front of my building. Mr. Bronson opened my car door for me before I even had a chance to protest. He helps me out and makes sure I have everything with me. I thanked him for the ride, and he responded by giving me his card, letting me know that he'll be there anytime I need a ride. He waits until I enter the elevator of my building to leave.

During the ride up, I text Liz letting her know I made it home. I don't immediately get a response back, which saddens me a bit, but there's nothing I can do about it. The doors open, and I make my way down the hall to my apartment. Through the New York thin walls, I overhear Max playing one of her Marvel movies.

"What are you doing!?" I shout as I fling open my door, scaring Max and making her throw her popcorn in the process. Thank goodness I don't have a dog. It would be going to town right now. "WHAT THE FUCK, Y/N! I wasn't expecting you for a couple more hours!" Max walks up and hugs me before jabbing my arm. "Don't do that again!"

Max takes notice of my new outfit and tote bag. "Well, it looks like you really did more than spend the night. New clothes, food, and a tote!" Damn, putting the whole lesbians move to fast thing to work." I would go to argue, but Max nailed it on the head.

"Once again, Max, you're always right." Max throws up some finger guns and begins cleaning up the mess I made her cause. I put the food away and threw my dress from last night in the wash. Max finishes picking up the popcorn, throws it away, and sits herself down on my couch, making herself at home. "Come sit and tell me everything, Y/N!" I plop down next to Max and look at the TV. "Hold on. You're watching this one again?" Max looks up and sees what I see a guy in a black catsuit fighting a dude with a metal arm."Okay, I don't need your judgment. Besides! We were supposed to start on these movies tonight!" I roll my eyes. "Who's right! Come on, Y/N, say it!"

"You are." Max pumps her fist. "Always." Max grabs the remote, exiting this movie, and goes back to a film called Captain America: The First Avenger. "We are going to start from the beginning. We will enjoy this movie, and then you will tell me everything that happened with Liz! Everything."

_

I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by the movie. I lost count of how many times I asked Max how they did the body transformation stuff. Also, I thought the guy named Stark's first name was Tony. But Max told me to wait. Whatever that means. I'm so sad about Bucky. Why did they have to do him like that? Max also told me the next movie isn't her favorite, but she loves Brie Larson, so since I'm surprising, not tired after a war movie, we decide to jump into it when I decide to check my phone for the millionth time.

Still no text back from Liz.

"Nothing?" Max asks. I shake my head no, and she leans closer to me. "Who knows, maybe she just fell asleep." I like Max's ability to look at things differently. "Now tell me everything before we watch Captain Marvel!"

_

I do just that. I tell Max everything. I tell her about the bits of the night I can remember. The hickeys. The garden. The missed phone calls. The movie and dance party. I brush over the details about Liz and my sex romp because that's for me. I tell Max about dinner and more.

When I finish, Max just looks at me, stunned. "What?"

"The whole time you talked, you had the biggest smile on your face. You've fallen for her! Haven't you?" I blush, and Max sees it. "Oh my God!! My freaking Y/N finally got back out there and gets the one! This is amazing, Y/N. Tell me her name again; I wanna stalk her Instagram."

"Elizabeth Chase."

Max gives me a smirk and raises an eyebrow. "You serious?" I give her a look right back. "Yes?" Max goes back to her phone, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Okay."

"Let's see. Private account. Private account. Fan acc-." Max stares at her phone, frantically scrolling. "Oh shit. That's why!" I turn to Max, very confused. "That's why what?"

"That's why she looked and sounded so familiar at the coffee shop! Oh my god. I can't believe this. My heart-"

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" I try to look at Max's phone, but she moves it away from me. "What did Liz say she does again?" A worried look grows on my face. "Model." "And she has a sister named?" "MK." "Y/N. You have zero idea who you just spent all day with."

Max hands me her phone. That one article I saw this morning is staring at me.

ELIZABETH OLSEN LEAVES NY RESTAURANT WITH MYSTERIOUS WOMAN DAYS AFTER LEAVING SET OF THE DOCTOR...

"Okay?" Max scrolls down the page for me. I see Liz and I, hand in hand, walking into a car. I get hit by a wave of information.

The articles.

The calls.

Her job.

London.

I scroll down the page and start reading the actual article.

"MCU star Elizabeth Olsen seen exiting a NY restaurant with a mysterious woman in hand. Earlier the same day, the pair were seen leaving a state park. This news comes days after Olsen was seen exiting the London set of the Doctor Strange sequel distraught. No one knows when Olsen arrived in NY, but it's clear she arrived alone. Only today was Olsen's fiancé Robbie Arnett seen at Heathrow Airport. Rumors have been flying around Olsen and Arnett for a while now. Is this the end? Who's this mysterious woman? For up-to-date information, be sure to stay subscribed to our newsletter."

I stay silent, holding Max's phone. The rage and hurt I'm feeling is one I haven't felt in- since-

I eye Max, tears pooling in my eyes. "She lied, Max." I whimper out. Max doesn't catch it. "Dude, you're dating the Scarlett Witch!" "Max." Max doesn't hear me. "Omg, she's like top 5-"

"She lied!" Max turns to me, stunned. Max softens her body. "Y/N..." I open my mouth, which has suddenly become dry. "I'm sure she had her reasons" I glare at Max. "Max, she lied about her job. She's engaged! She lied about her fucking name!" I get up and start rushing to put my vans on. "Dude, what are you doing!?"

"I'm going to talk to her. I want her to explain herself." I open my phone. My messages are still sitting on DELIVERED. "She hasn't even fucking opened my text!" I begin snapping at Max. I know this is unfair, but I can't let this happen again. "Y/N, just stop and-"

"Max, I love you. But I can't." I say through gritted teeth. I grab my phone, wallet, and keys. "I'll be back."

I close my door and sprint down to the elevator. Luckily my neighbor Miss. Jones was getting off, so I didn't have to wait. I pull out my phone and call Mr. Bronson, asking him to pick me up. It turns out he doesn't live too far and would be happy to take me back. Thank God.

While waiting, I decided to send a text to Liz. Elizabeth? Lizzie, or whatever the fuck her character's name is called.

"Olsen. We need to talk."

Part 7

[whump-town]

Rushing Home

Hotch doesn't get a "concussion" properly assessed, naturally, there's consequences.

(lots of nausea and one puke)

Word Count: 6500

Jack doesn’t really mind going to school, he likes it. Actually, Jack really likes school. But the weekends are still better. Breakfast is pop-tarts and they get to go do all the fun things. At the grocery store, they pick up chicken nuggets and frozen pizza. They walk to the park and like most weekends, Hotch carries Jack back when he’s too tired to walk. When they get home they watch movies and Scooby Doo. But on Monday they can’t do any of that. Pop-tarts are only for the weekend and that’s why Mondays are the worst days. 

“You like eggs,” Hotch reminds Jack, watching him pick and turn the scrambled eggs over with his fork. “You want something to dip it in?” 

Jack shakes his head.

“Alright.” Hotch pushes himself up and goes over to the counter. He glances back at Jack as he refills his mug. Reaching up, he opens the cabinet and pulls down a plate. He scoops up what remains of the scrambled eggs on the pan still sitting on the stove top. As he comes back, he takes the ketchup from the fridge, and another fork, and sits back down. In his peripheral Hotch can see that Jack is watching him. He puts a little ketchup on his plate and stabs a bit of egg. 

His stomach’s used to nothing but coffee until at least lunch time, and he got nauseous just cooking the eggs but he takes a big bite. He points to the ketchup with his fork, “you sure you don’t want any?” 

Jack hesitates for a moment, thinking it over. “Yes,” Jack pushes his plate forward, “please.” 

Hotch barely manages to swallow the bite but he smiles, stabbing more onto his fork. Jack’s still watching, timing his own bites with Hotch’s. His stomach does an ugly little twist, nausea rampant, but he cleans the plate, they both do. 

Hand against his rebelling stomach, Hotch leans on the sofa as he waits for Jack to come running back with his shoes. In his hands are not his school shoes but the lime green rainboots they fight over frequently. Hotch had gotten Jack real sneakers this year, big boy sneakers, with shoelaces and not velcro. And seeing them, Hotch begins to say something but then he thinks about having to lean over and tie those shoelaces and, instead, he just request Jack hurry up before they’re late.

Getting big boy shoes was supposed to mean that Jack tie his own shoes but it’s not that easy. On the mornings when Jack does tie his own shoes, it takes at least ten minutes. Other mornings he just throws his leg up on Hotch and waits expectantly for them to be tied for him. Shoes with the velcro straps were so much easier for mornings, but Jack had pleaded in the shoe store. 

“Daddy can you get coffee?” 

Prentiss had called while they were in the car and Jack had been silent in the back, Hotch had nearly forgotten he was back there. Hotch glances back rearview mirror, pulling the phone from his good ear, “I already made coffee, buddy.” He replies to phone, “yeah, driving him to school.” Hotch glances back int he mirror again, “Miss Emily says hi.” 

“Hi!” Jack shouts back, kicking his feet back and forth where they dangle. 

“No,” Hotch says, “he just wants a d-o-n-u-t.” He glances back but Jack’s watching the window, humming a song to himself. “We’re already late, Prentiss – He doesn't need— Alright, alright. Yeah fine.” 

They take the same route everyday and Jack notices immediately when they detour. “Coffee?” he asks, perking up and knowing wherever they’re going, it’s not to the school. 

“Yeah,” Hotch huffs, and glances back, “what kinda donut do you want?”

“Chocolate!”

As much as Jack hates being wiped down with a baby wipe, he’s covered in icing and sticky, he doesn’t like that more. “When I get big,” Jack says, pausing as the baby wipe circles back around his mouth, “I’m gonna eat choc’late donuts everyday!”

“Everyday, huh?” Hotch tosses the dirty wipe back into the car and pulls out another, needing another to tackle the mess on Jack’s hands. “If you have it everyday then it’s not as fun when you get one.” 

“It’d be fun everyday.”

The last of the donut finally comes off and Hotch pushes off the car, standing. “Alright,” he pats Jack’s shoulder and leans back into the car, grabbing his bookbag. There’s not much of a point for this silly thing, it’s light as feather, but it is pretty cute. The bookbag is bigger than Jack is. “Here we go,” Hotch holds it and Jack slips his arms into the straps. “You want me to walk you in?”

“Yes!” Jack grabs Hotch’s hand and starts to pull.

“Alright.” His father had never walked him into school. If he had, Hotch doubts he would have grabbed his father’s hand so eagerly. It’s sort of strange, all of it is really. Half of him is certain that he has no idea what he’s doing, and the other half is bewildered that whatever he’s doing isn’t as bad as what was done to him. He has only the one reference, one thing to compare it to and it’s not very comparable. 

They get to the door and Jack lets go, running, “bye! Love you!”

“I love you.” 

Jack waves at the door and keeps going. 

Already knowing what’s waiting for him at the office, Hotch stands and watches Jack until he can’t see him any longer. He feels immense guilt everytime he leaves Jack but it’s not enough to stop him from going and he’s not sure what that means. If that makes him bad at all this. Bad at being a dad. 

Jack hates it. He thinks it’s really cool most of the time. He likes that his dad fights bad guys, he loves superheroes, but he’s coming to realize what that really entails. Now the superhero movies aren’t always that great. Superman gets beamed out of the sky. Batman collapses in an alleyway. Captain America is intombed in ice. The bad guys win sometimes, and Jack knows that, but the heroes, sometimes they die. They get up bloodied and limping, and sometimes they don’t get up at all. 

“He’s in Georgia,” Jess says, “he’ll be home in a few days.” 

Jack erases what he has down on his homework.

Jess watches him, “you’re going to end up with a hole in that paper if you keep erasing it like that.” 

Jack sighs, his head resting on his palm. His work isn’t wrong, Jack’s fairly certain he’s got the right answer, but it’s still not right. Not right enough. 

He hates Mondays. 

He hates when Jess picks him up from school because that means his dad’s already somewhere else. 

Tuesday somehow way worse than Monday. 

“You’re grumpy this morning,” Jess notes and Jack ignores her. She’s used to this treatment in the early morning. Hotch isn’t much of morning person either but more so, Jack just has better mornings with Hotch. He doesn’t want Jess to walk him in and even though she’s bargained a Pop-tart this morning in a small attempt to lift his mood, Jack sulks into the school. 

The PA system is very active and Jack hates it. The class falls to dead silence, fidgety excitement passed around while they cross their fingers in the hopes that it will be them who gets to go home early. But Jack’s heart pounds in his chest, terrified from the second that speaker dings with the incoming message. 

When his father is in Virginia, Jack anticipates along with his peers, joyously for the rush of being pulled from school early. If the chance presents itself, Hotch swings by to get Jack. Every year, at the very least twice, Hotch randomly pulls Jack out and they go to museums or the zoo or the park or wherever Jack’s been itching to go.

But if his dad isn’t in Virgina then there’s no good reason that Jack will be called to the office. He’s never been called to the office while Hotch isn’t in the state, but the day that he is, Jack knows it won’t be for the dentist or a doctor’s appointment like the other students. Maybe Uncle Dave would be there or maybe Miss Emily, but Aunt Jess would be. They’d meet him in the hall, the principal somber-faced, their eyes red from crying. And Jack will stand trapped, like the insects frozen in their amber shells lining his dresser. A mosquito, a beetle, and Jack – caught in their fossilized crystal moments. The day that their worlds cease movement, hazed over, and hardened. 

Jess’s phone pings on the counter and Jack looks up from his homework, watching Jessica’s face when she leans over from the pot she’s stirring on the stove to read it. “Dad says they’re on their way home,” she says. She turns over her shoulder to smile at Jack, “You finish up your homework and he might be here before you go to bed.” Jack doesn’t react so she tries to sweeten the bargain, “we can wait up for him.” 

Jack nods. He’d been too distracted to complete any of his work today. There was a vocab test today and Jack had only written down four of the ten words read out to him. The addition and subtraction worksheet slid in front of him liquified, black ink pooled to the surface, and floated around the page. It seemed every few seconds the class was being interrupted by the office calling down. Jack couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was sit and stare down at the worksheets in front of him.

Jessica’s noticed something is off with Jack and she’s tried to worm it out of him, but he doesn’t seem very interested in having that conversation with her. Her imagination has taken hold of the situation just a bit, and she fears the issue is another bully. She’d grown up beside Hotch, she’d known him at the age that Jack now is. She seems to be the only one of them capable of seeing exactly how much Jack is like Hotch. He reminds her exactly of Hotch at this age, so quiet and observant. She’ll say something to Hotch when he gets home, he’s far more successful at working out what’s going on in Jack’s head. 

“Alright,” Jess announces, “this soup is just about done, I’m gonna–” Her phone cuts her off and Jess leans over, seeing who’s calling her. She picks the phone up and takes it with her, heading back towards the guest room as she tells Jack to finish his homework, and that she’ll be out in a moment. 

Jack knows this routine. 

Jess becomes suddenly elusive, distracted. She lets him play in the bathtub until he gets bored of it. The phone rings again and she leaves him to get dressed by himself. Jack doesn’t dry off, he steps right into his pajamas, and he sneaks his way back into the kitchen, crouching down behind the cabinets and listening to the phone call. 

“Why didn’t you go earlier?” Jess asks, her fingertips pressed to her mouth. “That’s serious Aaron–”

Jack’s own hand finds his mouth, his fingernails sucked inbetween sharp teeth as he starts to attempt to chew through. If Hotch were here he’d notice, he’d shoo Jack’s hand away. 

“You’re being stupid, what you’re saying is stupid. You can’t be an idiot like this anymore – ” Jess suddenly becomes conscious of Jack, and where he is. She thinks he’s in the bathroom but still close enough to hear. She takes a deep breath and pushes herself from where she’d sunken against the counter, letting granite bite into her back and hold her upright. “Jack thinks you’re coming home tonight–” Her face scrunches up, “no, no you should definitely stay there–” 

Jack presses his hands against his ears and tries his best to not hear anymore, but he can so he stands and walks into the kitchen. 

“Hey Jack,” Jess says loudly into the phone, jumping, as she pulls the phone away from her face. Her face relaxes a bit, or at least she tries to relax it.  “I’m on the phone with your dad, go get up in the bed and he’ll tell you goodnight alright?” The phone stays down and Jack’s itching to know what they’ll say when he’s gone. But Jess prods him along and he leaves. 

They stay on the phone forever – twenty minutes, Jack watches his alarm clock. Jess never brings him the phone.

Hotch doesn’t come home for another two hours, past Jack’s bedtime but he’s still awake. The front door opens and Jack sits up in bed, listening for who it is. He can hear Derek and Jess from his room, but not a word from his dad. Fear encourages Jack out of bed, carefully venturing to the door so he can press his ear to it. He holds his breath, trying to make as little noise as possible. His fear builds on itself in the silence, and as they begin moving towards the hall, closer to him, it suddenly occurs to him that they might be coming back to his room. And if they do it’s only to tell him that his father isn’t coming home at all.

He’s wrong. They continue past his room. The sound of feet dragging on the carpet as Derek and Jess’ hushed voices carry overtop one another. Jack hears the slow groan of his father’s mattress – a familiar sound. One that would wake Jack in the middle of the night, a small sign of life in the middle of the night. A safety coveted. 

The sound was a relief and yet a burden, a weight that settled stiff and hard across Jack’s shoulders. Made his nerves jumpy – a wrong feeling he couldn’t begin to convey. Though he’d tried to before and he would again. Complaining of a headache or stomach ache. Unsure of the remedy or even the ailment that was plaguing him. 

And it plagues him now, a strong curl of writhing unease as Jack pushes his bedroom door open. The hall is dark and Derek and Jess have taken their conversation back to the kitchen. Jack glances once over his shoulder at them and creeps down the hall towards his father’s room. 

There is none of the snoring that Jack’s familiar with coming from this room. Only soft breathing. Jack creeps around the bed, to the side of the mattress most frequently left empty. It is empty save for his father’s left hand stretched out from the rest of him, uncovered by the blanket. Jack pulls himself up onto the bed. Holds tight to the bedsheets and jumps, he’d learned that trick a long time ago. His mother’s death had hardened Hotch irreparably, but as far as the man Jack knows, he is still just as soft as before – he remains incapable of forcing Jack to go back to his own bed to sleep at night. 

Curling tight, Jack pulls his knees up to his chest, pressing himself into the terrible feeling taking over him. But the bed is soft, so much better than his own.

“Jess?”

Jack jumps, startled by the sudden depth of the voice coming from what he had thought was his dad. He peeks up a little, just for visual confirmation, but it’s too dark.

Hotch pushes himself up on one arm, only able to combat the pain through the undeniable and just familiar enough feeling of knowing he’s going to be sick. Unaware of his audience, Hotch grunts, and whimpers, hanging onto the edge of the bed as everything sways and pitches forward with him. He pants for a moment, trying to gather himself enough to stand. His legs shake beneath him, and more than walking, Hotch lurches forward on momentum and gravity, falling heavily into the bathroom’s doorway, using it to keep himself upright. 

Jack can’t see through the dark but he can hear how hard Hotch hits the bathroom floor. The way his fingers miss and grapple with the toilet lit, until inevitably, and right on time, his stomach curls up tight, and he gags but is unable to bring anything up.

At first, frozen, Jack scrambles over the side of the bed. His legs get caught in the bedding and he lands with a thud on the ground, but he feels only a small ache over the panic ramping his heart back up. “Daddy!”

Hotch gags harshly into the toilet again and he raises his arm up uselessly, trying to shoo Jack away. He can see through the visible pulse now of his vision, which has tunneled in, darkened in spots, timed perfectly with the throb in his head, that Jack is still standing, watching. “Jack–” his voice is wrecked, nothing more than cracks. “Buddy,” Hotch tries again, “go get Jess.” 

Jack stands, shaking slightly with fear, trying to suck his tears back up.

Resting his head on the toilet, sinking to a new low, Hotch groans, a sound artfully echoed in the bowl. “Buddy,” Hotch coughs, “I need you to go get Jess.” His eyes close on their own accord and each breath is a manual thought, harshly pulled in through his open mouth, as drool spills down into the water below. “Please,” he rasps.

Blood rushes in his ears. He’s not sure what’s going to happen next but Hotch thinks this will kill him. The pain is certainly ramping up to a deadly point, like somethings burst and blood should be spilling out of his ears, or out his nose. Something’s got to give, and if it’ll stop this pain, Hotch doesn't care what it is. 

“Aaron?” He’s still leaning on the toilet and as Jess cuts on the bathroom light, he has no reaction. “Jack,” Jess crouches down in front of Hotch, and points Jack away. “Go get Uncle Morgan! Run! Go get him!” 

Jack freezes for only a moment before bolting, he runs as fast as his legs can carry him. He throws the door open and looks both ways down the hall before running towards the main entrance. He’s barefoot and it’s strange, he’s never been allowed to run down the hall, and he’s always wanted to, it’s not as fun this way. “Uncle Morgan!” Jack yells, he can see the older man on the other side of the building’s door, he’s just stepped out. “ Wait! Please, wait! Uncle Morgan!”

Morgan turns and when he sees Jack running towards him, he immediately turns back around, meeting the boy halfway. Jack grabs his wrist and starts pulling him back. “Something’s wrong with daddy,” he rushes, out of breath. “Jess said to come get you ‘cause –.”

Morgan takes off running, Jack somewhere close behind. He doesn’t bother looking back, going straight through the living room and shouting, “Jess?” Her calls from down the hall and Morgan follows, running through Hotch’s room to the bathroom. “What is it?”

Jess stands and moves back, “he passed out. I can’t wake him up.” 

Morgan moves quickly, stepping over Hotch and getting behind him. He slips his arm behind Hotch’s back, gently moving his head back, crouhcing lower, Morgan looks back up. “Go get the kid some shoes, I’ll get Hotch in the car.” With a grunt, he starts to lift Hotch from the floor, painfully careful of his head as Morgan tries not to jostle him. 

Over Jess’ shoulder, where she’s bent down shoving Jack’s feet into his sneakers, Jack watches Morgan carry Hotch out of the apartment. One of his arms is on the other side of Morgan’s back, limp and rocking with the motion of Morgan’s quick pace. 

“Is he dead?” Jack asks. He stands beside Jess as she grabs her own shoes, waiting for her to grab him too and lug him out of the door. 

“No.” This answer comes a little too quickly, not assuring, just positive. Unwilling. Hotch isn’t dead because Jess won’t let him. So, no. He’s not and he won’t until he’s good and old and Jess decides she’s done with him. 

Jack climbs into the backseat and Jess reaches over to buckle him in, before sliding into the middle seat and sitting up between Morgan and Hotch. Who looks dead, Jack thinks. He’s not exactly sure what that would look like, but Hotch isn’t moving. His head remains tipped back in the space between the door and the headrest. He’s not sitting up, he’s tilted and shoved into the chair the way that Morgan had left him. He doesn’t have his seatbelt on either and he doesn’t look back to check for himself that Jack’s buckled in.  

Morgan speeds and Jack watches the dark world outside whip by. 

What does happen if Hotch dies? Jack doesn’t like the idea. He can hardly remember now how his mother died, and though he knows it’s something that happens, he can’t imagine it could happen again. 

Jess scoops him out of his carseat and Jack lets her hold him. Over her shoulder, he watches Morgan throw open the passenger seat and stick his arms underneath Hotch’s knees and behind his shoulders. It’s not impressive, Jack can’t understand it, really. It doesn’t feel like this is real, or that the man limply held in Morgan’s arms is his father. He’s certainly someone, but… Jack’s dad? He’s not really sure how it’s possible at all. 

Jess runs straight through the doors, towards the first nurse that she sees. “My brother,” she says, turning back and watching the automatic slide shut. Morgan’s still in the parking lot. “He’s a federal agent, he was in an accident, he hit his head and he passed out–” 

The nurse sees Morgan, he sees the man being carried through the parking lot. 

Jess steps back and away, a stretcher procured and now being pulled to meet them as they come through the door. Jack turns with her, his eyes never leave Morgan, never leaving his father. There’s not a thing he can do to help but looking, being witness, feels important. He feels unable to look away, like he shouldn’t, so he can’t. 

“What’re they doing?” he asks, and he’s suddenly anxious, his brain putting together what happens next before he really knows. He tries to pull himself up over Jess’ shoulder, trying to see. “Aunt Jess, what’re they doing? Where’s daddy going?” Jack tries to push himself back, worm back out of Jess’ arms. He becomes suddenly frantic watching as Morgan meets the stretcher, not thinking twice as other men and women surround them. “No!” Jack shouts, “no, daddy! Get away from him! No!” He twists and jerks, trying to throw himself out of Jessica’s arms. “No!”

Hotch’s hand jerks on the stretcher and the elelastic of the oxygen mask slips over his head, the plastic fogging and muffling the weak but present sound that Hotch makes. A nurse comes around to his side, flashing a light, and again he emits the sound, his hand jerking up from the stretcher. “Sir? Can you hear me?” 

Hotch tries to sit up and Jack yells louder for him, only encouraging him further. Morgan steps inbetween them, taking Jack from where Jess can hardly hold him, pinning his arms down as he blindly throws his fist in any direction, trying to jerk, hit, and kick his way back to his father. “You can’t go back there,” Morgan says, but Jack keeps yelling, twisting his shoulders but unable to free his arms. He can see them pushing the stretcher back into a room, he can see his father’s head lifting, turning. “The doctor’s are going to take care of him, Jack. You can’t go back there.”

The door shuts and Jack continues crying but he slumps, smacking his head against Morgan’s shoulder. His face pressed into the fabric of Morgan’s shirt he sobs, his fist gathering handfuls of shirt. The fighting eventually subsides, more violent sobs take over and Jack screams, he cries as loudly as he can into Morgan’s shoulder. 

He cries himself to sleep in Morgan’s arms. 

“What the hell happened?” Jess whispers. She’s managed to wipe the tears from her face, and dislodged the ache in her throat, but her chest is still tight. A band of tension across her ribs. “How did this happen?”

Morgan looks down at Jack. His nose stuffy from crying, his face still wet and eyes puffy. He shakes his head, “I can’t–”

It’s well past her bedtime. This medical emergency is impeding on the sleep she needs to be the fun, cool aunt. No sleep means the jolly good Aunt Jess is not in the building. “Derek, I promise you, if you try and pull some ‘FBI secrets’ on me, I’ll punch you.”

Morgan huffs and moves his arm up, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. “Alright,” Morgan sighs. He distracts himself by rubbing Jack’s back, even though his shoulder is growing progressively wetter from drool, and tears. “In Georgia–”

“I know you were in Georgia.”

Derek cocks an eyebrow up, “you gonna let me finish?” He sighs and licks his lip, “our vehicle was hit. I was driving and his side… His side took the brunt of the hit.” He looks at Jessica, “I could hardly get him to sit still for the EMTs. I let him – I mean, he’s Hotch, you know, you can’t make him do nothing he don’t want to. So we left, we left the ambulance, and I tried to get him to go to the hospital, after – after we got the guy, but he’s stubborn. He was more worried that Prentiss got checked out, and she did, but the EMT said it was just a concussion so he didn’t think it was that bad.” Morgan shakes his head, sighing, “I took him to the hospital, had to trick him for that, but I couldn’t make him stay. So…”

Jess curses softly, leaning down and placing her head in her hands. After a moment, she sits back up, pushing her hair back up out of her face. She looks at Derek with the heat earlier dissipating, slowly being replaced by something sadder. “Tell me that he was at least… I don’t know, that there was a good reason or something.”

Morgan shakes his head, “no, he’s just…”

“A stubborn asshole?” Jess giggles and Morgan huffs, nodding, and chuckling along with her.

“A very stubborn asshole,” he agrees. Jack shifts, sighing in his sleep and adjusting his head on Morgan’s shoulder, and Morgan’s face falls. He clears his throat. “We were… The victim, the victims, they were… just little kids. When we crashed, we were chasing the unsub.” Morgan looks back over at Jess, “he had a boy in the car. Seven. Hotch, he lost consciousness for only a minute, and he got right back up. He was – he wasn’t gonna let that son of bitch kill that kid.” 

Jess nods, looking down at the floor. “Did you get him?”

Morgan nods, and his smile half tugs up. “Hotch did. Cuffed him himself.” 

“Good.”

It was good. When it happened it felt good, things felt over, it felt like a win. Prentiss needed a few stitches but she was fine enough to be angry with Hotch too. Morgan hadn’t pushed that hard for Hotch to get really checked out. He was exhausted, and by the time he and Hotch got to the hospital, Prentiss was done, waiting for discharge papers, and at that point if Morgan really pushed for it, they all would have been stuck in that hospital for several more hours. 

“I should have made him get checked out.”

Jess shrugs, “you said it, you know? He won’t do anything he doesn’t want to.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Holding Jack does nothing for his guilt. Morgan should have picked a fight, he’s never shied away from confrontation with Hotch before. But today he didn’t. “He just wanted to get home.”

They sit in the waiting room with nothing more to say. The hours of the night tick by and Morgan only grows more frustrated with himself. He’d skipped out on something important to rush home, and now he’s sitting in a hospital anyway. If he hadn’t been in such a rush, if he hadn’t let his exhaustion guide him, he wouldn’t have been so careless. 

It’s late, early morning by then, when a doctor comes out. Jess is resting her eyes and Morgan’s no longer tired. They peel themselves up from the chairs and follow where they’re directed. After being seated out in the waiting room for so long, they sludge back to room, relieved to at least be reunited. 

“Hey,” Jess goes right to the bed, watching Hotch’s half-lidded eyes track them. He blinks languidly and she smiles down at him, kissing the top of his head. “You scared me.”

“Mmm,” his head rocks over, “wasn’t thinkin’ straight, ‘m sorry.” 

She frowns at him but he can feel her cold fingers over his wrist as she gently picks up his hand. She sighs and rolls her eyes, “stop looking at me with your stupid eyes.” She tries to frown but it only maintains for a few seconds, “ I mean it. I’m mad at you.” 

The right half of his lip twitches up and he slowly rolls his head over to the left, “Jack?”

Morgan turns, showing Hotch the boy still out like light in his arms. “Kid’s slobered down my back,” he smirks, coming closer to the edge of the bed. 

Hotch’s hand trembles as he raises it up, the IV on the back of his hand preventing it from coming any higher off the bed. “Let me see him,” he asks, and he watches Morgan’s eyes dart over him, to Jessica he presumes. “Please, Morgan.” 

They’d raced home for this little boy and the please cracks right through to his heart. “I’m gonna lay him down here,” Morgan says. Unwrapping Jack’s arms from around him, Morgan leans down and gently lays Jack down on the end of the bed. Hotch inhales sharply as Morgan lays Jack down, the tips of his fingers grazing the ends of Jack’s hair. “Is that okay? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Hotch sighs but any ice in his tone decipates, as Jack stretches and rolls onto his side, wrapping his arm over Hotch’s leg, and pressing his face into Hotch’s knee. 

“You’re not fine,” Jess says. “You were in a car accident, you fractured your skull. You have broken ribs.”

“Cracked,” Hotch rasps and he means to turn to look at her but pain spikes through his head. “They’re just cracked,” he whispers, through clenched teeth. He presses his lips tightly together and tries to contain himself but it only increases, like a great pressure, a weight laid on his head. 

“I’m gonna–” Morgan stands, and motions to the door. 

Jess nods her encouragement for his unspoken train of thought, scooting closer to the bed, and holding firmer onto Hotch’s hand. “Are you in pain?” she asks.

Hotch releases the breath he’d been holding, pulling in laborious breathes a little too quickly. “A little,” he relents.

“A little? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I think I might.”

Jessica squeezes his hand, “Morgan’s getting nurse. Just hold on, okay?”

He tries to tell her that he heard that, he definitely understood, but his reply is cut short. Words are jumbled and all that comes out of his mouth a moan, a groan that deepens and is cut off breathily. His head tips to the side and Jess stands, leaning over him. “Aaron?” she can see his eyelashes move, “the nurse is coming.”

“I know,” he rasps, “my head–”

A nurse steps in, Morgan hot on his heels. “Morning, Agent Hotchner,” he greets, “I was just on my way to you.” He smiles down at the sleeping boy on the bed, “good to see you with some visitors. This the little guy you were worried about last night?” The nurse steps to the head of the bed, eyes flicking around, his attention eventually narrows to the IVs leading down. “Can you rate your pain, Agent? On a scale of one to ten?”

Hotch grunts, trying and failing to lift his head from the pillows. It listly slides to the side, his face has gone ashy, “seven.”

“Defintiely not an seven,” Jess says, she’s moved back from the bed, crossed her arms. “He said he felt like he was going to pass out.” 

“Thought,” Hotch grunts, his voice is a harsh whisper, “and I said might.” 

The nurse glances between them and continues with the task he started. 

“He has a high tolerance for pain,” Jess adds, “and a tendency to embellish the truth when it comes to… these things.”

Morgan nods from the corner, “he’s definitely lying. He’s stubborn.”

Hotch grunts but he can’t think to speak, he can hardly think to hear. Cold, gloved fingers touch him but something colder starts to creep up his arm, and then quickly he feels warm, very warm. “Nnm,” he rasps, his head feels less like something’s splitting it open, and more like hallow space between his ears, a vast, empty hallow place.  

“There really shouldn’t be so many people back here,” the nurse says. Pain treated, he can move on to the other things. “Can you step out for a moment into the hall, for a moment? I’ll collect you when I’m done.”

Eyes closed, breathing evened out, Hotch’s hand twitches. He drags his eyes open, trying to force focus out of his blurry eyes. “They can stay,” his speech has slowed, his voice softened. “Hm,” he turns slightly, “not Morgan.” He squints at who he’s fairly certain is Morgan and grumbles, “traitor.”

“What?” Morgan huffs, “Man– Nah, nevermind, you know what, I don’t wanna see you in your skivvies anyway.” 

Hotch smirks, “don’t think I’m wearing any.” He points to the nurse, “you take ‘em?”

The nurse chuckles, “I didn’t and you’re not.” 

Morgan leaves quickly, not eager to find out anymore than he’s already been told. 

Jess steps back away, stuck in a middle ground between watching what the nurse does and looking away to avoid seeing what she doesn’t want to. The nurse presses around his ribs and Hotch gasps, grunting – it’s not pain, but his body is still somehow aware this pressure isn’t right, that is should be painful. Somehow it’s still equally unpleasant. He jerks, his leg moving with it, and Jack immediately sits up. Sleep clings to the corners of his eye and as his tired brain process the information before him, Jess steps around, lifting Jack from the bed and moving him to the side. 

She tries to move herself between them. Hotch’s gown is open, the blanket across his lap preserves modesty, but doesn’t do much hide the scars across his chest, certainly doesn’t cover the black and blue bruises up his side. But Jack rubs his eyes, and stretches, pushing himself down out of the chair. “Daddy?”

Hotch bats the nurses hand away, turning his head and pushing his hand off the side of the bed. “Hey buddy,” his eyes are getting harder to force open. 

Jack ignores Jess’ request for him to come sit down, taking Hotch’s hand and folding himself up over the bed, lifting up on the top of his toes. He lays his head down and Hotch brushes his fingers through Jack’s hair, trying to tame the unruly strands. Jack reaches up, turning Hotch’s hand over and inspecting the IV taped down. “Are you okay?” 

Hotch tries to think of something but the mush inbetween his ears procures not a single intelligible thing. Reflexively, his hand goes back to Jack’s to hair, something else, not located in his head, guiding him back. 

“You remember what I said about wearing a helmet?” Jess asks, she stands behind him. 

Jack turns his head to look at Jess and puts his hand ontop of Hotch’s, “helmets are to protect my head. So I don’t crack it open.” 

“Yeah,” she agrees, “daddy wasn’t wearing his helmet–”

Jack stands, and with grave concern he asks, “did your brain come out of your ear?”

Hotch cocks an eyebrow up and looks over at the nurse. 

“No,” he says once he realizes the questions been deferred to him. “Your dad’s brain is still sitting snug where it should be.”

Jack narrows his eyes and looks over to Jess, “but Uncle Morgan said that’s what would happen. How come then?”

“Well,” Jess struggles for a moment. 

“Uncle Morgan’s not a doctor,” Hotch mumbles, “neither is your Uncle Reid but he’s always trying to argue otherwise.” 

“But he is a doctor,” Jack argues and he stands back up on his toes to lean back into Hotch’s hand. “Uncle Reid is a real doctor, he told me so.” 

“Mm-mm,” Hotch’s eyes close, and it takes him a long moment to force them back open, “math, chemistry and engineering.” He counts them off with his fingers and then they fall back to rest on Jack’s head. “No, ugh, biology? Anatomy? Whatever doctor’s study.” He glances at the nurse from the corner of his eye, and slurs, “’m a lawyer.”

“You’re a profiler,” Jess corrects. 

“Mm,” Hotch agrees, his eyes closed, “yeah, a profiler.” 

“You’re silly, daddy,” Jack giggles.

Hotch smirks and he manages to crack his eyes open to slivers, “you think so?”

“Uh-huh.” Jack turns back to Jess, “can I get up?”

“Yeah,” Hotch rasps.

Jess sighs and looks to the nurse, he nods his head. “I’m done here, for now. If you need anything, use the call button.” 

She’s adamant about it, but Jack kicks his foot up on bed, trying to get up himself. So she picks him up and puts him back on the bed. “Gentle,” she reminds him and Jack carefully crawls up closer and lays down. 

He curls onto his side, reaches up, “you've got scratchies.” Jack rubs the side of Hotch’s face, frowning at the feeling of his unshaved skin. “I don’t like it.”

Hotch turns his head towards Jack, his chin over the top of his head. “ ‘m sorry.”

Jess leans over, smoothing down some of Jack’s hair, “dad needs to get some sleep, alright?”

Jack nods.

“ ‘m not.” 

“You are,” Jess softy says. “Stop fighting it, just rest.”

Jack moves a little closer and falls still, but between his fingers he rubs the material of the gown now closed back over Hotch’s chest. 

Hotch tries to fight it but there’s not much fighting to it. At least his head doesn’t hurt, and he’s home. More or less. He’d rather be home but Jack’s here, and Jack’s safe, and nothing else matters.