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unravellingdescent · 3 years ago

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Dream Guardian

Today, I was a butterfly. I’d never been a butterfly before, nor would I know if I were ever going to be a butterfly again. Despite that though, flying felt familiar; comfortable. I recognised the area, though I can’t recall where I’d seen it before. I remember fluttering through certain roads that looked hauntingly familiar, but I can’t remember where from. I wouldn’t say I had no control over where I’d go, but rather, it just… felt right.

Another weird dream huh. This time it was in the presence of a butterfly, wings of midnight blue, as I watched it travel across my neighbourhood under the full moon. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t dreamt of butterflies before; but unlike the other ones, this butterfly had a presence to it.

My car broke down today on my way to work, so I had to take the night bus home. This normally wouldn’t be an issue, except I had to stay late for work AND the fact that the main bus I’d take no longer functioned after midnight. At least I had the day off tomorrow to solve this stupid car issue. Today’s been a rough day in general, and it’s driving me crazy that the fucking butterfly dream is stuck in my head. Just watching it flutter, again and again, from beginning to end. An intrusive thought is one thing but this one would JUST NOT leave.

As I walk from the bus stop towards my apartment, I notice the surroundings is familiar, too familiar. I’ve lived in this area for about two years now, and it’s not like I haven’t walked here before, but this felt different. Normally, I’d take the main roads, staying away from any dark alleys and unlit areas – for safety reasons of course, but I recall the butterfly, floating through this exact area. It didn’t take the normal routes I would take, instead turning into the daunting alleys and taking the backroads I normally wouldn’t.

“Teenage boy’s body found in abandoned car.”

Poor kid I thought to myself, watching the morning news in my new pyjamas that I JUST spilled coffee on. As I kept listening though, my hands began to freeze, sending chills down my entire body and staining the rest of my pjs.

“…found near the roundabout of Smith’s Avenue… …autopsy reports show the victim was murdered around 12:20am...”

Smith’s Avenue? The closest main road I’d drive to work? The same one I’d normally take coming home from the bus stop? The same path I would’ve taken last night had I not spontaneously followed a different route all because of a dream. Surely it was luck. Or just déjà vu. There’s no way that body could’ve been mine had I gone the normal way, right?

Today I was a kitten, awoken by the early morning cold. My mother and siblings still asleep, tugging trying to feed themselves on her milk. I couldn’t fall back to sleep though, so I wandered the plains, running through the thick fog of winter dusk. I soon found myself near a small townhouse, not of humans, but other cats. They welcome me with warm purrs and feeding me fresh milk and fish, disappearing once the sun was in the sky.

My alarm really woke me up this early. 4:30 am? A whole hour earlier than my usual routine – maybe I was half asleep while setting it up but I don’t think I can go back to bed. And these birds outside are chirping so damn loud there’s no way I’m getting another ounce of sleep. Maybe I should just head to work, at least that way I’ll get to catch up on the work that’s been piling on me since the day my car broke down. Leaving at 5:30 in the morning feels strange, I can barely see anything in this mist but on the bright side, the roads are somewhat empty. Guess I’ll be the first one at work today, reminds me of the times I used to come in early just to impress and suck up the management.

It's almost 7am and most of my colleagues should be here by now but so far, there’s only four people here, and one of them had to be my boss that’s been on my ass for the past week about some new project which wasn’t even assigned to our department. I see the HR lady talking to him, …and now he's walking towards my office. Hopefully it’s not about this damn project again, maybe I should put some headphones in and pretend like I’m working so he’ll leave me alo- guess not.

“There’s been a massive multi-lane accident on King’s Road. Some of our colleagues have been affected by this and will not be able to come in due to traffic blockage. You may take the day off if...”

Turns out there was a drunk driver going over 70 mph that ran a red light into an oil truck around half past 6 in the morning. Over 14 casualties and counting according to Google’s latest results. Not sure what sane human drinks and drives that early in the morning, but what bothered me most was that this was my usual time commuting to work. There was a significantly high chance of that number being 15 had I woken up like I usually do. I’m suddenly reminded of the butterfly from 4 weeks ago, and the kitten last night. They both had the same eery presence to them that I still can’t quite put my finger on, but apart from that, there was no real correlation, right? I mean, sure the kitten was awoken early like I was, but nothing else stands out.

As I drove home, the dream kept replaying in my head, I’d watch this kitten wake up, wander off in the fog, and visit a townhouse of cats, eat, drink, disappear and repeat. It came to my realisation that the kitten was rewarded for waking up early and wandering off, before all its siblings, and getting to eat and drink free meals. Was I somehow rewarded, or rather, somehow avoided a fatal accident by being awake early and wandering off, or heading, to work?

A guardian angel looking out for me? It’s been appearing much more often, increasing in frequency over the last year or so, where certain animals, objects, even inconspicuous things like the wind or sunlight, had a weird presence to them. One time it was a bird that stared at my usual coffee shop for ages, and then flew away – most likely telling me to not get coffee that following day. It took me 2 hours in the bathroom to understand that maybe I shouldn’t have drunk coffee that day. Another time it was in the form of the rain, heavy pouring rain. This time I listened, and had brought multiple umbrellas and raincoats with me to work. Did I mention I work in the fields now? Well, I work in the fields now, rarely in the office but occasionally I do have to go in to finish off some paperwork.

In the past 6 months or so, the presence has taken a form that it hasn’t before, a human. A woman, more beautiful than any I’d seen, deep hazel eyes and a smile that lit up her face. She would talk to me. Talk with me. At first, she only pointed, her hands glowing in certain directions, sometimes in the sky. Sometimes she’d stand, or float, in empty space, pointing to 4D diagrams, pictures, usually warning me of danger, or just things I should consider or approach in my day to day life. It’s not like I’m uncapable of doing my work or meeting new friends, but listening to her has helped improved my social circle and work life.

Eventually she spoke. We’d talk about each other, well, me mainly. It was weird talking to someone in my dream and vividly remembering every detail, but it was a good weird, one that made me comfortable and felt therapeutic. I’d listen to her speak in her soft, tender voice, about who she was, though she didn’t know much either. She said she wasn’t a guardian angel but a dream guardian. A presence that only speaks to you in your dreams – she knew that much at least. She told me she didn’t know why she was here, but that she felt like there was something important to do regarding me. Something that drove her very existence to me.

At first I was curious, intrigued as to what mystic force would drive her to me. But eventually, I stopped losing interest as to why she was here, and just appreciated and enjoyed her company. It wasn’t physical, but it felt real. I asked her why she didn’t appear as a human from the very beginning, but I soon found out that wasn’t in her control. We came to the assumption that maybe I had to listen to her warnings more and trust its presence more for that to happen. I asked her why she felt so important to me, and yet so distant; she didn’t know. I asked her if she’d stay with me for the rest of my life, if she’d continue to appear in my dreams, but again, she didn’t know. Maybe once the “important” thing was completed, she’d disappear for good.

I didn’t want her to disappear, but I didn’t know what to do either. So, I let it be. She’d visit me almost every night, and the mornings after not getting a visit from her, I found myself trying to go back to sleep for a chance to talk to her again. I never could though. It’s not like I could force myself to dream of her either. And when I did dream of her, it felt lucid, yet I was unable to control my surroundings or my own body to the extent I wanted it to. I wanted to hug her, or even just hold her hand and say thank you. Thank you for saving me countless of times, no matter how big or small it was. It’s not like I didn’t thank her every time I saw her, but it never felt sincere. I don’t think it could’ve felt sincere unless I’d hold her hands in mine and wept and cried telling her how much I appreciated her looking out for me.

It’s been an entire year since I’ve met her. And yes, I’ve managed to hold her hand and tell her all the things I wanted to say, and more. It felt like I was holding everything and nothing at the same time. It was so full and so heavy, yet so empty. The cosmic universe in the palm of my hands and the absence of everything simultaneously. She said she could feel nothing, and she’s felt nothing throughout all the times I’ve held her. I didn’t know if that was an insult at first, but she reassured me that dream guardians cannot feel anything, and that she understood and empathised with everything I said.

It's been three years since I’ve met her. She hasn’t shown up since then. I’ve dreamt of her and thought of her every day, but there was never that presence to her like the past. It wasn’t her. It was something I conjured up from my own thoughts and tried to manifest in my dream. The one I’ve been dreaming of isn’t my dream guardian. I missed her. Did she finally complete the important task she was assigned to? Did God, or whatever heavenly divinity that brought her to me, decide to finally take her back? If she was here to protect me and keep me happy, why have I felt so miserable? Why is she always on my mind? Her soft voice, her smile that’d light up her entire face, her hand that filled me with everything and nothing, her comfort and her worry. I missed everything.

I haven’t had proper sleep in weeks, I’m scared I’ll never see her again. I don’t want to conjure up a fake her from my obsessive thoughts and replace her. I’m scared I’ll no longer dream of her, and she’ll be gone forever, forgotten from my mind. I’m scared I’ll come to the point where I thought everything was just a hallucination or just a normal dream. That she was never real. No, I’m going to try to see her again soon. Tomorrow I’ll drive to the nearest pharmacy and buy the strongest sleeping pills in hopes that they can help me meet her again.

She appeared that night, but she was different. Her voice was weak and straining. Her face no longer carrying her smile that filled up my heart. And her eyes, lifeless. For the first time, she reached out her hand to hold mine. But it didn’t feel like everything and nothing, it felt… real. It felt human. She begged me not to go tomorrow and take those pills, she begged me to forget about her and live the better life she helped me achieve. She said to not let her efforts go to waste, and that she would watch over me from above. She said she loved me. She loved me. She loved me. Again and again. I didn’t know it until that moment either, but I loved her too. I fell in love with my dream guardian, and I didn’t want to ever let her go.

I awoke this morning, crying, beating myself up for waking up so early. If I slept a little longer, I could be with her for a little longer. How could my own body be so against my own wishes? Falling in love with the woman of my dreams, literally. But I loved her more than any other person I’ve ever loved and felt more loved in that one dream than I ever felt before. I wanted to see her again, and I’m going to.

9pm. There’s two bottles of sleeping pills in front of me. I’m going to meet her tonight again, and hopefully, I can stay with her for the rest of my life. Even if I have to take multiple bottles every night. I’m going to see her.

As I swallow one pill after another, I slowly find myself getting sleepier and sleepier, but I need more. I need as much time I can to be with her. Fighting to stay awake, I open the second bottle and start taking a handful of them at once. I’m sleepy, I’m falling asleep. Please wait for me.

It's been so long since I’ve been here, I’ve lost count. Maybe a few hours, maybe a few millennia, maybe since the beginning of time. What was I doing here? What am I doing here? How did I get here? Who am I? Who was I before I got here? I want to know who, or what I am. It’s so dark, I’ve been wandering for so long, yet I don’t feel like I’ve moved at all. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go back to a time before I was here, before I forgot who I was.

Am I alive? Was I once alive? Is this the graveyard of the dead? I don't feel alive, nor do I feel dead. Is this where the forgotton are left behind? I see glimpses of a life, somewhere in the distant past, somewhere in another universe. Why was I so eager to rest? So eager to throw away my life? What for? To sleep? To meet something, or someone? Is this the realm for the souls that gave up on living? If it is, I don't want to be here. I don't want to give up on my life. I want to go back. I want to live a longer life, as long as I can. I'm sleepy. I close my eyes one last time.

...And some day, open them again. I don’t feel what I’ve felt before in the darkness, it’s not dark at all. I feel nothing and yet, everything at the same time. I can see yet I sense I’m also being watched. I don’t know where I am, but these roads feel hauntingly familiar. I don’t know where I’m going, but wherever I go, it just feels right. I’m looking around, it’s a full moon and I’m floating on wings, midnight blue, a butterfly.

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marchtomydrums · 3 years ago

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The Rules 12

Alex Cabot X Reader

Rated M

You and Alex have been dating for a few weeks now. Your second date was a lot better than your first. You decided to take Alex to the fair. It was nice seeing the usually uptight woman let herself be free and happy for a night. You were starting to see a side of Alex that you didn't know existed. The third and fourth dates were even better than the last. Many nights are spent at her place. It's just easier with her job for you to come over instead of her going across town to yours. Alex voiced her concerns about you not being at your apartment not wanting you to have to worry about traveling to school or to work. To be quite honest though you didn't care it was worth it to wake up in her arms.

Just like this morning, you feel arms wrapping around your body pulling you closer to her. The sun peeking through the curtains as gentle kisses are left on your exposed neck. You moan softly as she licks the outside of your ear before biting the lobe gently.

“If you continue to work me up only to leave I'll never forgive,” you chuckle your voice raspy from sleep. She chuckles pulling you in closer. “I have nowhere to be. I noticed you don't have classes on Fridays so I cleared my schedule.” smiling you roll over on your back “interesting.” you whispered leaning in to kiss her softly. Alex smiled against your lips. The kiss became heated quickly as tongues fight for dominance as hands roam over each other's bodies. Alex pulls back first sighing “we should stop.” “Why?” you asked her. “Because when we do this I want to be ready for you to touch me and right now I'm not,” she says quietly. “Oh,” you reply to her. Alex sighs once more covering her eyes with her hands “I'm sorry I shouldn't have worked you up like that for no reason.”

“Alex it's okay. I'm a big girl i’ll live. “ you chuckled. “Hey look at me please,” you asked her tugging her hands from her eyes. Alex sighed turning her head to the side to make eye contact with you. “It's okay, I don't want to do anything until you're ready too. Okay? We said we would take it slow so that's what we will do.”

“Are you sure? I could always please you.” she tries to bargain only for you to cut her off.

“Absolutely not. We're in this together,” you tell her silencing her with a kiss. Alex smiles rolling over on her side. The two of you lay face to face as she cradles your face in her hand “how do I get so lucky?” she asked grinning causing you to duck your head trying to hide your blush. “I ask myself that a lot,” you whispered. Alex chuckled leaning in to kiss you.

A few hours later...

Alex’s POV:

After a few hours of kisses, cuddles, and breakfast I had to break the bad news to you. Today was the day I had to talk to Olivia. We set up a time to meet for lunch and I for one am extremely nervous about what she’ll say. Walking into the diner my nerves rattle as I see her. She smiles waving me over to the booth she selected. Standing to greet me she places a gentle kiss on my cheek “hey.” “Hey, Liv.”

We quickly settled into small talk over our lunch. Catching each other up on our jobs and what Noah has been up to. Finally, I work up the nerve to tell her the reason I asked to meet. “Liv I've got to talk to you about something,” I tell her breathing heavily. “Okay,” she says leaning back in her seat giving me her full attention.

“I asked to meet with you today to tell you that I met someone. I know that it may feel sudden but it's been going on for a while and I really like her.”

“Was this going on when we were in Washington?” she asked dryly cutting me off. I nod my head silently trying to read her body language. Olivia snorts “Please don't tell me it was the child that I ran into at your hotel room.”

“She's not a child she's 26.”

“What's the difference? From our viewpoint, she's a child. Come on Alex you can't be serious.”

“Well, I am. Listen I don't expect you to understand but I feel alive with her. She makes me better she makes me want to be better. Liv, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got you caught up in this cycle with me. I'm sorry that I didn't treat you the way you deserved to be treated. I'm sorry I couldn't love you the way you needed to be loved. But I'm trying to be better and to open up parts of me that have been asleep for a long time.”

“And she does all of that for you? Suddenly you're the new and improved Alex Cabot? Give me a break! What we have is real and once again you're running away. And for what? To playhouse with that girl. How the hell did you too even meet?!”

“How we met doesn't matter. The point is that I do care for her deeply. I'm not playing anything! You know me Liv! I'm sorry okay I'm sorry I fucked it up for us. So what does that mean I don't deserve to be happy?!”

“Of course not! I'm not innocent in this either Alex. I've made mistakes and I know that. It just sucks because I thought that one day you would wake up and it would be for me. “ she tells me emotions written all over her face.

“I know. And I'm truly sorry. I wished for a long time that it would be you. I wanted nothing more than to be happy with you. It just never seemed to work out like that. “

“I know. And that's what sucks. I want to be happy for you Alex. I really do. I'm just upset and hurt.”

“I understand. But maybe with me out of the way you can finally find someone who will do everything in their power to be that person for you. I wasn't ready to be that person.” She nods her head as we fall into salience neither one knowing what to say to the other. Finally, she speaks “Does she know we slept together?”

“Yes.”

“And how does she feel about that?”

“At that moment we weren't technically together. It's complicated. But she knows and we're working through it. She's really a good person Liv. You'd like her if you two gave each other a chance. She's smart, loving, kind, and for some crazy reason, she loves me. Honestly, that scares the crap out of me. But I can't stay away from her.”

Olivia nods her head sighing to herself. I can see the tears forming in her eyes while she takes steady breaths. “Then I'll back off. I love you Alex and I might always love you. But if she is really that important to you and gives you a reason to live your life to the fullest. If she can help you see just how much you're worth then I'll leave it alone. I just want you to be happy. And sadly that doesn't seem to include me.”

Choking back a sob I reach out to hold her hands in mine “I'm so sorry Liv.” “me too.”

“We can still be friends right?” she asked. I chuckle nodding my head “ we will always be friends. You will always have a special place in my heart. You were my first true love and you always will be.”

Olivia smiles “ same here.” We both chuckle wiping the tears from our eyes. Once we clean ourselves up Olivia grins “Alright so tell me all about her.” I chuckled as I went on and on about you. We talked for at least another hour or so.

As I walked home I left feeling a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. I felt the excitement in my belly as I thought about my new start in life. It amazes me how much joy is released into my body by merely the thought of you. Arriving back at the house, I search in silence for you until I run into Martha. “She is in the library,” she says smiling. “Thanks, Martha.” Walking to the library I lean against the door taking in the sight in front of me. You're curled up in a chair, no makeup, sweats, glasses, and a messy bun reading a book. You're completely oblivious to my presence.

Dropping most of my weight against the door it caused it to squeak drawing your attention. You smile brightly when you see me. I smile back walking into the room. “You mind if I sit with you?” I asked making my way towards the chair. You smile nodding your head as you get up letting me sit before you climbed into my lap. I smile resting my head against yours breathing in your scent. “So I take it everything went okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, everything went well,” I tell you placing a kiss on your cheek. “Good,” you say sinking down further into my lap as we read silently together.

#lgbtq #wlw #law and order svu #alex cabot x reader #fiction #television #writing #law and order x reader #stephanie march #smut and fluff #age difference #college student #lady of the night #olivia benson #x reader #alex cabot #angst

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

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absence.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the next installment is here! this is the second-to-last piece in the berry hill section of a joyful future. as it has been lately, this one requires little ajf context, but i would recommend reading berry hill and waldosia, if you haven’t already. (thanks to aimz @ssaic-jareau, kira @good-heavens-chris-evans, and sabina @writefasttalkevenfaster) edit: this has been heavily revised as of april 29th, 2021. the changes and additions address continuity errors and ongoing subplots.

words: 7k (prev. 3.8k) warnings: language, vomit mention, really accurate satellite phone protocol (eat your heart out, cm writers), beard!hotch, jack hotchner content, one last slow burn

summary: “absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great” - roger de bussy-rabutin. au!march-september 2011

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next? updated: april 29th, 2021

There’s a moment where he stops at your desk on the way out of the bullpen, but you just stare at him. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it. After a moment, he finally says, “Jack is with Jessica tonight.”

You have no idea what your face looks like, but it’s enough to drop his shoulders and send him on his way, defeated.

+++

You let yourself into his apartment, slamming the door behind you. He’s been waiting for you, leaning against the windowsill across from the door.

“How dare you.”

He sighs and presses a hand to his forehead. “You have to understand that I -”

“Bullshit, Aaron. I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing. What are you thinking? We need you.”

His head tips up, and he looks through you. The haunted look in his eyes almost makes you falter - it so acutely reminds you of the days following Haley’s death - but you keep your resolve. He doesn’t say anything, just lets you yell at him until it's out of your system. You could never actually hate him and he knows that, which makes some of it easier, but not all of it.

The tears start and pick up speed as you continue, nearly at a shout. “You've known for seven months that you were going to leave for Pakistan. I read the brief. Seven. Fucking. Months, Aaron. Since September, you’ve known and you didn’t tell us about the task force assignment in fucking Pakistan!”

You pause, but the final nail in his proverbial coffin leaves your mouth without permission. “Emily died, and you’re still leaving?” He flinches. “You’re leaving me and Jack. You’re leaving our team. I never thought you could do something like that to us. Maybe them, but not me. Never to me. I mean, after everything we’ve -” You cut yourself off and raise the back of your hand to your mouth, unable to finish the unbearably painful thought.

He’s not sure which part is the most painful - the fact that you list yourself with Jack instead of with the BAU, the fact that you say ‘our team,’ or the tone that drips with hurt. The sob that rips through your chest breaks his heart. He leans heavily against the arm of his couch, knocked down by the weight of your tears.

No. The hardest part is knowing he deserves it, that you aren’t saying anything that isn't unfair or untrue.

“I can’t even look at you right now.”

He can only watch you as you walk back out, leaving the door open behind you.

About twenty minutes later, he receives a text.

9:34pm I’ll be there tomorrow at 12:30 to take you to base. Be ready when I get there.

He crawls into bed about half an hour later, and receives another text.

10:05pm Goodnight.

Fuck.

+++

The ride to base ride is mostly silent, and you know something’s wrong. It’s nothing you can articulate or even really put your finger on, but it’s something bigger than just his imminent absence.

He’s boarding a C-130 supply transport with a few Marines and various agency task force members to an outpost in Pakistan. It will no doubt be a long and deeply uncomfortable flight. His go bag, packed with desert fatigues and a couple of creature comforts, looks smaller than usual at his feet.

“How long?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Task force operations are need-to-know.” There’s so much he can’t tell you, and it eats at him. Because it’s you, and he’s been an ass, he concedes a little. “Probably a couple of months.”

“We’ll be okay, Aaron.”

A little laugh leaves him, and it pulls a smile from you.

“What?”

“Remember when you chased me down last night to tell me the team couldn’t do this without me?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s still true, but we’ll manage. We always do.” There’s a moment of silence, and you continue. “And you’re going where you’re needed. That helps.”

It’s true. Your anger had cooled (just a little) overnight, and you decided you didn’t want to be upset with him when he leaves.

You already miss him.

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you.”

He looks out the window, and you can hear the wheels turning in his head. Jack is on his mind, and so are you. There’s nothing more nauseating than the thought of leaving you while you’re still hurting from Emily’s loss. “I know.”

Why are you going through with this, Hotchner?

Oh, right. You’re a coward.

“I just don’t want our last conversation before you leave to be a fight.” You sniff, but don’t look at him as you continue driving down the highway.

I am perhaps the most undeserving man on the planet.

He says, “Thank you. I don’t want that either,” but he hopes you can hear what else he can’t say.

I love you. I’m sorry.

+++

“Alright, you’ve got everything you need?” You stand next to him on the tarmac, shading your eyes from the sun.

Aaron hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. “Think so. You gonna be alright?”

You nod and reach for him. He embraces you, tucking his head into your shoulder. “You be safe, Aaron Hotchner. If you die out there I’ll kill you myself.”

He chuckles, and you hope the sound is enough to keep your heart from breaking too much over the next couple of months. Your eyes close as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll check in when I can.”

Shoving against his chest, you turn him around and push him toward the plane. “Get outta here.”

He takes one last look over his shoulder when he reaches the loading ramp and offers you a wave. You return it.

+++

You manage to get to the highway before the tears start. The only person you want to talk to is Emily. She’d know exactly what to say, and she’d make sure your days off were full of fun and good company. You pull off on the side of the road, your head falling into your hands, sobs wracking through you.

When you’re able to keep driving, your chest hurts beyond belief.

Without her, these months seem to stretch before you forever.

+++ april 2011 +++

It’s not the first time you’ve ended up in his office alone, but it’s the first time you’ve really noticed the evidence of his absence.

The picture frames on his desk started gathering dust, so you brought a little duster to the office. His desktop computer has stopped making noise, so you turned it on and off once out of pity. His phone hardly rings, unless it's the NSA trying to get a hold of one of you for a sat phone call, so you and Morgan take turns taking forwarded calls.

The silence is overwhelming and seems to pull something intangible from you. It’s exhausting.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

You turn, finding Penelope in the doorway. You’re not sure how long she’s been there, watching your acquiescence to the bees that seem to have invaded your brain in the last couple of weeks.

“I slept last night,” you tell her. It’s not technically a lie.

She doesn’t look impressed. “Did you sleep through the night, or are you just trying to play one of your Jedi mind tricks on me?”

With a sigh, you cop to it. “No, I didn’t sleep through the night.” You look out the window to the bullpen, and you know she sees something on your face.

“I don’t like it either.” She looks over her shoulder, finding Spencer and Ashley playing a game of Go on the desk. Unsurprisingly, Spencer’s winning. Rossi and Derek speak quietly by the little kitchen, looking just about as tired as you feel.

The short-handedness is getting to you. “There’s just…” You search for something to say. “There’s just so much to do.”

Penelope looks back. Her mouth twists. “And we’re down a couple’a hands.”

That’s an understatement.

+++

“I would understand if you needed some time to think about it.” Erin leans forward in her chair, elbows on her desk. “With your team cut in half, even I wouldn’t feel comfortable sending you to another unit without some time to train a replacement or two.”

“Or three,” you add.

She looks at you and nods. “Exactly.”

You pick up the letter from the Special Agent in Charge in Los Angeles. You’d be his right hand - essentially the liaison between operational support divisions and units operating in the field. It’s a hell of an opportunity, a huge promotion, and a significant bump in pay.

“Can I take you up on the offer to think about it?” You slide the letter across the desk again.

Her eyes are soft, and you almost feel close to her in that moment. “Of course. Take your time. It’s a position created just for you, so there’s nobody else in line for it.”

“Thanks.”

+++ may 2011 +++

“Ready or not, here I come!” You call across the apartment, sneaking through the familiar rooms with practiced ease.

Aaron’s been away for close to a month, and you’ve settled into a routine. Cases, of course, keep you busy. Derek’s rather good at playing unit chief - decisive and collaborative - but you miss Aaron’s steady, even hand.

Really, you miss everything about him. You try not to think about him too much.

You fail, often.

Avoiding thoughts of Aaron gets even harder as you creep into the master bedroom. The smell of him hasn’t left. Past the doorway, the air is spicy, masculine, and warm. You squint at the bed. One of the pillows moves, just a little, and you pounce, pulling the covers back and grabbing the wiggling pillow.

Jack screeches and throws himself at you. You catch him and fall back on the bed, laughing. “I found you!”

Jess is off running errands for the afternoon, taking some well-earned time off. You’ll more than likely spend the night over here tonight to give her more of her weekend. It’s never any trouble to stay with Jack. You adore each other.

Usually, Jack leaps right to his feet for another round, but he stays put after his fit of mirth passes, sprawling across your chest.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

He sighs, and brings his little hands under his chin, propping his head up so he can look at you. He’s six (and then some), now - still very much a boy - but the pensive look on his face starkly reminds you of his father. “When’s Dad going to be home?”

You push some hair off his forehead. “I’m not sure, my love. I’m hoping it’s only a couple more weeks, but it could be a little longer than that.”

He sighs, and it breaks your heart a little. You turn on your side, and he curls into you, resting his head on your arm and tucking under your chin. “Are you and my dad best friends? I have a best friend named Connor and he says best friends are really important and I was just wondering.”

You laugh a little. “Yeah, I think so. Your dad and I have known each other for a long time.” His little hands play with the collar of your shirt. There’s more to his question. Jack’s just like his dad and takes a bit of ferreting out. Luckily, you’ve had plenty of practice. “What are you curious about, little bug?”

“Do you miss Dad?”

A track of Aaron’s laugh, his smile, the way his arms feel around you flies through your head. “Yeah, I miss him a lot.”

“I’m happy you’re here so we can miss him together.” You can almost hear Aaron’s voice in Jack’s. It sounds just like something he would say, and probably has said, talking to his son about Haley.

“Me too, buddy.” You kiss the top of his head. “Me too.”

Jess returns about an hour later, groceries in-hand, to find you and Jack curled together in Aaron’s bed, snoozing the afternoon away. She snaps a picture with her phone, saving it in an album she keeps for Aaron. After she puts the groceries away, she escapes, leaving a note.

You’re on your own tonight and tomorrow. Have a good time with breakfast - he’s been picky lately.

XO, Jess

+++

“You know,” Jess says, a little out of the blue one afternoon. “Haley told me something once.”

You snort. “I’d imagine she told you a great number of things.”

“Well, sure. But I mean about you and Aaron.”

It’s pretty stupid that your body decides to panic over absolutely nothing. If this was a polygraph, you’d fail outright. And yet, nothing’s happened between you and Aaron. You’re just friends.

Yeah but you love him.

And he probably loves you, too.

But we're all to chickenshit for that.

What a-fucking-bout it?

You take a little breath and a sip of your tea. “Oh?” You hope the query sounds casual enough and doesn’t give away the cool sweat blossoming over your palms.

Luckily, Jess isn’t a profiler.

“Haley told me - and this was the summer before she died, so it’s not like she told me under duress or anything - that she thought there may have been something between you and Aaron after the divorce.”

She says that like it’s the simplest thing. You’re not sure what to say, so you keep your eyes on the grain of the coffee table, tracing the lines with your eyes. Eventually, you decide to answer in the simplest, most honest way possible.

“There’s never been anything between Aaron and me. He’s one of my best friends and I care about him.” That sounds evasive even to your own ears. “I care about him a lot.”

Jess hums. “I know, but Haley always had a sense about these things. And she knows Aaron better than anyone.”

Her slip into the present tense makes your chest pull.

“I don’t say that to put you on the spot or anything.” She shrugs. “I just think you guys would be good together. You’re good for him and I think he’s good for you, too.”

She’s more right than she knows, but you can’t think about it for too long. You miss him too much.

Out of a need to respond, you offer a half-hearted, “Maybe.”

Jess reaches out. “He’ll be home soon. When he gets back, I think you should at least think about it. Or talk about it.” She shakes her head. “Or something.”

“I have -” You cut yourself off, not really meaning to share.

She squeezes your knee. “I know you have. So has he.”

+++ june 2011 +++

Back to back cases - five of them, to be exact, pull you through the next four weeks by the ear. Formal leadership wears on Derek more and more by the day, and you find yourself making just as many decisions as he does. You’re immensely proud of him, but the whole thing is exhausting. Spencer does his best to slip back into his normal role, but Emily’s loss continues to wear on him. You don’t blame him.

Most days feel held together by duct tape, with you and Rossi acting as the adhesive. All that and the offer in Los Angeles you’ve hardly had time to process.

Thus, your evening with Jess is both well-earned and much needed.

“Wanna crash here tonight?” She sets a mug of tea down on the coffee table in front of you and sits heavily back on the couch. “It’s pretty late.”

You check your watch and find it is indeed late. Before you can answer, your phone rings, and you answer it with an apologetic glance toward Jess. “Hey, Morgan. What’s up?”

“We have sat call notification from Hotch. Can you come in?” He sounds exhausted.

“Yeah, I can be there in twenty. Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “Yeah, looks like a routine check-in.”

Jess sighs, knowing the drill. She goes to the kitchen and pours your tea into a travel mug.

“Are you calling anyone else in?”

“Nope. Just you. See you when you get here.” He hangs up.

You stare at your phone as Jess sits next to you again. “We have a call from Aaron coming in, and I have to head to the office.” She hands you your travel mug, and you take it gratefully.

“You’re welcome back here - I can set up Aaron’s room for you. We’re a lot closer to the office than your place, and I don’t want you to drive if you’re too tired.” She sets a hand on your knee, and you reach over to embrace her.

“Thanks, Jess.”

+++

When you arrive, Derek’s already on the phone. “... So, no leads?... Right.” He looks up and catches your eye. “Here, Hotch.”

You take the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He sounds relieved. “Are you doing okay? How’s Jack?”

His questions make you smile. “We’re good. He’s good. I just left the apartment - Jess and I were having some grown-up movie time.”

You’re warmed by his laugh. “Good. Glad to hear it. I was just telling Derek that the leads out here have gone cold, but we’re still working.”

“Ah. Any chance you’ll be home soon?” You avoid Derek’s searching gaze.

“It doesn’t look that way, no. We’re picking up on some chatter out there, but nothing firm. We’ll have to keep out for a couple more weeks at least.”

Your heart drops, but you hide it as best you can. “Alright. Anything you need from us back here?”

“Just keep doing good work.” You know he can’t say much more than that, with more than a couple of NSA guys in between you on the line, not to mention the archival recording of the call. Even then, you know he means looking for Doyle. “That’s all I need from you.”

“We can do that.” You give him a quick rundown of some recent cases, all surface-level. You’re mostly stalling, using up incredibly expensive satellite time just to hear his voice.

You hear him sigh. “Alright, I gotta get back. Tell Jack and Jess I love them.”

“Of course.” You hand the phone back to Derek and wait while they finish up. Your eyes wander over the volumes of law books in Aaron’s bookshelf, the pictures of Jack and Haley and Jess behind his desk. Wandering over to his chair, you sit down and rest your head on your arms.

Your eyes wander to a photo taken a year and a half ago at Haley’s service. You’re not sure who took it, but you’re crouched on the ground talking to Jack, while Aaron stands behind him with a hand on his head. Jack's little hands are in yours, and he’s smiling a little.

Of all the photos to keep on his desk...

Derek hangs up the sat phone and puts it back in the lockbox. He crosses the office and leans against the desk beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

+++

When you get back to the apartment (indeed much closer than your home), Jess is asleep in the guest room, and Jack’s still out like a light.

You change into your pajamas, stuffed into your go bag, and curl up under the covers on Aaron's side of the bed. His pillow smells faintly like him, and you burrow into it.

The bed feels far too big and far too cold without him.

+++

“JJ!” You stand to greet her. “What are you doing here?”

She holds up her credentials. “I’ve been reinstated as a profiler on temporary assignment, so don’t get too excited. It’s a contingent favor for the FBI and I’m sure the State Department will call to collect sometime soon.”

You clear your consults and subpoenas off the desk beside you. “Good to have you back.” Looking over at the intimidating stack of files you ask, “Need anything to do?”

+++ july 2011 +++

The next time a sat call comes in, you can’t go into the office. Jack has the flu and is absolutely miserable. You can’t, in good conscience, leave Jess to her own devices. Between the vomit and the sleeplessness and the tears, four hands are absolutely necessary.

“Derek, I can’t leave. Jack is literally puking his guts out as we speak, and I don’t have any new intel for Hotch.”

Morgan huffs into the phone. “Come on. You know you’re the only one he actually wants to talk to and the only one who has any actual updates about Jack.”

“You just have to tell him that I’m up in the middle of the night with his son, who has the flu. Isn’t that enough of an update?” You don’t really mean to snap at him, but the lack of sleep has made you a little punchy.

“Fine. If he -”

“Yeah, I know. If he gets upset, just blame me. He can deal with me when he’s not in Pakistan. As long as there are five time zones between us, I’ll take my fucking chances.”

“Fair enough.”

He hangs up, and you return to the hall bathroom, where Jack’s cheek is pressed against the toilet seat, his forehead clammy and face pale. Jess is taking her turn to sleep - you’ll switch off in an hour.

“Hey, bubba.”

He mumbles something that sounds like, “Hi.”

“Can I get you some crackers or maybe some Sprite?”

Jack shakes his head and lifts himself up, holding his arms out. The risk of illness far from your mind, you gather him up and lean against the cabinets, rubbing his back.

“Can you try to close your eyes for me?”

“I don’t feel good.” There are a few tears in his voice, and it breaks your heart a little. You’ve so been there.

“I know, baby. I know. Just close your eyes for a minute, okay?”

He does, and his breathing evens out eventually. He’s still feverish, but you’re happy he’s sweating, at least. It could break by morning at this rate.

The makeshift towel-bed on the bathroom floor looks more than inviting. You gingerly shuffle over and lay down, keeping Jack flat against your chest.

It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

+++

“Strauss offered me that transfer to LA again.”

Derek looks up at you from his report, his brows drawn low over his eyes. “You gonna take it?”

You heave a sigh. Before you can say anything -

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He puts his pen down, giving you his full attention. “What’s stopping you?”

So many things.

There are only a couple of them you can say aloud. Luckily, they have the benefit of being true, albeit incomplete. “I love this work. I love this team. I don't know if I want to be a lackey for an almost-politician.”

“And?”

He’s got you. He knows there’s more because he knows you. Even then, you can’t bring yourself to say exactly what it is that’s holding you back. So, you hedge your answer, knowing he’ll understand.

“I can’t -” leave Aaron and Jack. You clear your throat. “I can’t leave this team. Maybe that makes me a coward or suggests a lack of adventure or something, but I can’t do it.”

“It doesn’t,” Derek says. “It makes you human.”

You smile a little.

“And for the record, I don’t want you to leave. And I don’t think Jack and Hotch do, either.”

A little incredulous laugh leaves you. Derek simply smiles, but doesn’t say much else. It makes your point for you.

Nobody else knows you like this team.

+++

The hardest days are the ones where you end up by yourself. Derek’s picked up kickboxing with Penelope, Spencer has withdrawn almost entirely, JJ has her family, and Rossi retreats to the cabin by the lake with an alarming degree of regularity.

Thank God he’s not as cranky as Gideon.

That would be too spooky.

Everyone is out of the office, scattered to their respective distractions. You sit on the floor of Aaron’s office, leaning against his desk. Your laptop sits open in front of you, but you’re only half paying attention to the movie playing.

It was only this afternoon you realized his office smelled more like stale paper, your house, and Tiger Balm than Aaron, and it broke your heart a little. Your only solace was his apartment - the evidence of his existence was inescapable there. With Emily gone for good, you often needed the reminder.

His office phone rings. You pause the movie, stand, and answer it.

“Agent Hotchner’s office.”

NSA is on the other side, dry and professional. “We have an incoming call from Agent Hotchner. Is Agent Morgan available?”

You tell him he’s not, but that you’re the next in line to receive task force updates. In an equally dry and professional tone, you relay your credentials and your unique intel code.

“Thank you. Please stand by.” Click.

You roll your eyes.

God, they’re boring.

Sitting down at Aaron’s desk, you wait for the armed guard to arrive with the phone. As per protocol, you’ll sign for the call and remove it from the lockbox yourself. You’ll return it for pickup when the call is completed.

The guard shows up and you step through the motions, finally getting the phone to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounds surprised, but not displeased.

You laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s me. Morgan’s unavailable at the moment.”

“I see. Is Jack feeling any better?”

“Yeah. He’s been alright for about a week now. It was a pretty nasty bug, but he’s a trooper. Any new chatter down your way?” You trace the wood grain of his desk with your finger, only a little absent-minded.

“There’s a little bit of activity on the border. We’re monitoring the situation. Is everything going okay over there?”

“Yeah, for the most part. We’ve been feeling the heat a little since Seaver transferred to Andy’s unit, but we’re managing alright. Dave’s called JJ back in to lend a hand, and she’s doing really well.”

He hums. “That was a smart idea.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

“Oh, please don’t. It’ll go straight to his head.”

You smile. “Fair point. Any updates on the timetable?”

When are you coming home? Please make it soon.

“Not at the moment. I think we’re getting closer. Few more weeks.” There’s something behind his voice you can’t quite grasp, but you let it go.

“Alright. Keep us posted.”

“Will do. You know the drill.”

“I sure do. I’ll relay the information to the team, tell your son you love him, and talk to you in a couple of weeks.”

You can almost hear his smile. “Exactly. Talk soon.”

“Be safe, Aaron.”

“Hey, before you go,” he says. “Can you, um -”

You smile, tracing the wood grain on his desk. “I’ll tell Haley you said Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks.”

+++

Jess’s hand only shakes a little as she lights the candle and holds the cupcake between the three of you. While she takes care of the cake and begins to sing with Jack, you hold the camera, filming the impromptu party so Aaron can see it when he comes home.

“Okay, Jack you have to help Mom blow out the candle,” Jess says, holding the cupcake in front of him. With a great amount of glee, Jack extinguishes the candle with a big breath and a laugh.

You turn the camera on Jess, who says, “We couldn't let Haley’s forty-first go unrecognized - she’s officially old and we had to let her know.”

With a laugh of your own, you turn the camera around and wave before turning it off.

“Can I eat the cake now?” Jack asks.

Jess nods, pulling the candle and setting it aside on your picnic blanket. “Of course, but after we eat some fruit, okay? I don’t want the ants to get to the basket before you do.”

The July sunshine beats down on the three of you, picnicking beside Haley’s resting place. It is, in fact, her forty-first birthday. You can only imagine the look on her face she would have adopt when you reminded her of her age.

“Oh please,” she’d say. “When you get to be as old as me, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jack sits in the sun, munching on a little apple slice. You reach over, rubbing a little splotch of sunscreen into his skin. He already has a little sunburn from your adventure to the District earlier in the week and you’re not about to make your life even harder.

Aaron’s absence, even in its fourth month, is glaring. Jack has mostly stopped waking in the middle of the night looking for him and having regular meltdowns, but he always looks up when the front door opens with an expectant look that breaks your heart. He’s an adaptable kid, but months without contact from his father have taken their toll. If you’re honest, it surprised you a little bit.

With a little bit of perspective, months are different than days, or even a week or two. Jack relies on Aaron more than you realized and the difficulty of helping Jess where you can has only further illuminated your ignorance.

“Will Mom always have a birthday?” Jack asks.

Jess looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

He thinks for a moment, a little pensive. “I mean, because she’s not here. Do people who aren’t here still have birthdays?”

“They do,” she replies. “That’s why we have to celebrate for them. They aren’t here, but it’s still special.”

He nods, a kind of understanding look on his face that makes you think he knows exactly what that means.

+++

“Yeah?”

You smile. It’s been a minute since you heard his voice, over the phone or otherwise. “Hey, Dr. Reid. How’s Vegas?”

“Hot. But it’s nice to be home.”

“How’s your mom?” You trace aimless patterns over the mat on Aaron’s desk, watching the suede imprint and erase as you go.

He sighs. “She’s alright. I think she’s about ready to kick me out, though.”

“It’s only been three weeks,” you laugh. “Surely you can make yourself useful?”

“I sent in her most recent publication to the journal, so I’ve outgrown my use until I find her a new thesis.”

You can almost see it - the two geniuses, mother and son, bickering over a game of chess or fourteenth-century novel. “Better find her a new thesis, then.”

Spencer’s thin smile is audible through the phone. “Guess so. How are things over there?”

“It’s a little hectic. It’s just me, JJ, Morgan, and Rossi now. Penelope’s still working with us regularly, but counter-terrorism keeps pulling her for ‘special projects,’ whatever that means.”

You don’t mean to guilt him into coming back or anything - you know he needs the time to recharge. He’ll come back when he wants to or feels he needs to but at this point, there’s hardly a difference between four and five agents on the team. You need Aaron. And Emily.

“With the amount of summer task forces coalescing, that doesn’t surprise me.” He pauses. “I’ll probably spend a few more weeks here unless there are any developments between now and then.”

By developments, you know it means any confirmed sighting of your target. “That sounds like a plan. We’ll be glad to have you back but take your time. You’ve more than earned it.”

“Thanks.”

+++ august 2011 +++

“How’s Jack?”

“He’s doing alright,” you tell him. “He misses you.”

I miss you.

Aaron sighs. There isn’t time for everything he wants to say, even less for the things he could. “I’m probably going to miss his first day.”

“That’s what I figured.” It's hard to think about and probably going to be harder than you can imagine, especially if there’s a case that takes you away from home. “Jess will take lots of pictures and I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you all about it when you get home.”

It’s hard to keep the bitterness from your voice, but neither one of you could have anticipated this would go on for this long. ‘Over the summer’ seems a little abstract until the end of the summer arrives.

This isn’t his fault. It isn’t. You know that.

But it’s his fault for going in the first place.

Conceptual anger isn’t useful. That’s another thing of which you’re keenly aware.

And yet…

“Thank you for being there for them,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind. “I know this isn’t easy.”

There’s nothing you can really say, but you hum anyway.

The pair of you are just eating satellite time now, so you say goodbye and good luck before tipping your head back against his office chair.

When the tears slip down your cheeks, you’re not sure if you miss him more than you’re mad at him or the other way around.

+++

“Chief Strauss?” You knock lightly on her door and she beckons you in, just finishing up a phone call. She gestures to the little sitting area in the corner of her office, and you make yourself comfortable on one of the couches.

She hangs up and joins you. “Have you thought more about the offer?”

“I have. Thank you for your patience. I know it’s been a little while since we first spoke about it.”

Erin waves her hands, brushing off the implied apology. “The BAU’s work in the last few weeks has been exemplary. I’m impressed, especially considering the significant funding and personnel obstacles you’re facing at the moment.”

You laugh a little. “I hope that doesn’t make anyone think working with this many people is acceptable, ma’am.”

“No,” she assures you. “I’ve made that very clear.”

There’s a small moment of silence before you speak again.

“I won’t be accepting the position in Los Angeles.”

Strauss sighs but doesn’t look surprised. “That’s as I expected. I will, however, add something that I did not share with you before to further inform your choice.”

You sit up a little straighter, a little more attentive.

“The push for a transfer is also in an effort to protect your reputation. I know the BAU has continued investigating Ian Doyle and while that is noble, it could go very wrong. And that much is above my head. DHS, ATF, NSA - they could all be upset by your unofficial involvement. This could go as high as Congress and could result in your permanent termination from the bureau, making you ineligible for work in federal law enforcement.”

“Yes, ma’am. High risk, high reward.” You shrug. “Or at least, that’s what Dr. Reid tells me.”

A wan smile pulls at her mouth. “Yes. As long as you’re comfortable with the consequences.”

“I am, ma’am.”

“Good.”

+++ september 2011 +++

“Alright, buddy! You ready to go?”

Jack adjusts the straps on his little backpack while Jess finishes putting his lunch together. “I’m ready. Just need lunch.”

“It’s right here!” Jess says, bringing his Captain America lunchbox to him and strapping it to the outside of his backpack. “You’ve got a ham and cheese sandwich, a juice box, some carrots, and a brownie. Does that sound okay?”

He nods.

“And if it’s not enough, we can always get some more food after school okay? It can be a special treat.”

Jack grins and you all head off to the car together.

+++

The little meltdown arrives when you and Jess move to leave him at the door of his classroom. Jack’s brown eyes get wide and rapidly fill with tears as soon as you take a step away from him.

“Jack, baby, c’mere.” You drop to your knee and open your arms. He steps into them and you can feel his shaky, hiccuping breaths against your shoulder.

While you hold him, you hear Jess debriefing his new teacher about their current situation, and the way things are in general. Dad in Pakistan, dead mom, goes by Jack rather than Jonathan, the whole nine.

“You are so brave,” you whisper into his hair. “You are so smart. You are a good friend and you are safe.”

He nods.

“I’m so sorry your dad can’t be here, honey, but he’s going to be so excited to hear all about it as soon as he gets home. And I'll tell him how brave you are on our next secret superhero phone call.”

‘Secret superhero phone call’ was the best way you could describe using the sat phone (and why Jack couldn't talk to Aaron himself) so you just went with it.

Jack nods again, sniffling a little and pulling back. You reach for him, wiping his tears with your thumbs.

“I love you so much, bud.”

“I love you, too.”

You kiss his forehead, reminding him, “I might have to get on a plane for work, but otherwise I’ll see you after you’re done with your first-ever day of school, okay? This is so exciting!”

He finally smiles, and your work is done. When he steps into the classroom, he doesn’t look back.

+++

Thankfully, you’re not pulled for another case until the end of the week, so you’re able to see Jack through his first-ever week of school.

It hits you more than once that you’re the person next to Jess right now while he hits these milestones. Long gone is that toddler that would giggle in his mother’s arms as she danced around the living room to Hall and Oates. In his place is an insightful little boy with a rapidly burgeoning sense of humor and a wickedly kind smile.

You love him.

+++

The entire team got an emergency call, so you're all gathered in the roundtable room when Aaron walks in, looking all the worse for wear and -

Is that a beard?

Wait. He’s back.

You just spoke to him on Monday, with news of a “few more weeks,” even in the face of developments on the Doyle case.

Fucking bastard knew he was coming home, didn’t he?

All of your joy in seeing him evaporates, and you narrow your eyes at him. Just like the last time you were in this room together, there’s an apology in his gaze.

“Welcome back.” Derek doesn’t sound surprised, and your head whips toward him. He doesn’t look at you.

Unbelievable.

“Thanks. Everyone, have a seat.” You follow Aaron’s instructions, and sit, crossing your arms. It’s childish, sure, but the balance of personal and professional life has flown out the window.

This feels like a personal slight, rather than a professional one. You try to push it away, but it lingers in your sternum like a lit flare. It’s uncomfortable, and you hate it.

“Why?” Derek sounds a little concerned. Your anger cools a little bit. Derek doesn't actually know anything. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” You notice, brow furrowed, that JJ stands beside Hotch like an ally. They both have odd looks on their faces. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.”

No.

“The doctors were able to stabilize her. She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”

No.

“Her identity was strictly need-to-know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

No.

There’s silence, and you can’t tear your eyes from Aaron.

“She’s alive?”

“We buried her...”

Penelope and Spencer’s comments rush past you and you feel much like you did in the waiting room on that horrible, horrible night seven months ago.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.”

His eyes finally meet yours, and you find your vision blurred. You blink away your tears.

It was a necessary lie.

You go into this business expecting to be lied to.

Not by Aaron.

That’s not the issue and you know it. He left.

He missed Jack’s first day of school. He was gone for five months.

He left us.

“Any issues?” Derek’s disbelief is marred by hurt, but you can’t reassure him through your own shock. “Yeah, I got issues.”

He’s cut off by Penelope’s glance toward the doorway.

The team, save for JJ and Hotch, rushes toward her. You’re stuck to your seat until she approaches you. At her touch, you come back to life, throwing yourself into her arms. Her name sounds strangled leaving your mouth. “Emily.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Her grip on you is tight, but your arms, looped around her shoulders, don’t feel like they’re attached to your body.

She lets you go and continues to speak. Derek’s frozen, and you can’t imagine for a minute what’s going on in his head. Emily wraps around him. He’s stock still, his eyes misty. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he brings his hand to her shoulder, his cheek falling onto the side of her head.

It’s back to business faster than you can blink, and now you’re sure you’re not the only one ready to kill Aaron where he stands. Derek is livid.

They stare at each other while Spencer starts asking questions. Eventually, they focus back. Aaron crosses to you, contributing where necessary.

You don’t acknowledge him. It’s horrible. You hate being so angry with him, but there’s nothing to be done.

You can’t be upset at him about Emily. There’s too much to understand, and yet the initial shock of it is like a never-ending bucket of cold water poured over your body.

Selfishly, you realize you’re upset with him because he didn’t tell you he was coming home. It’s so small when there are other, much bigger, issues to address.

Emily’s lie is professional. Just part of the job. This one feels personal.

You’re a child. Let it go.

He knew and he left.

He missed Haley's birthday.

He knew and he left.

He shouldn't have gone.

He didn’t tell you he was coming home.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future fanfic

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enigma-im · 4 years ago

Text

Second Day of Christmas...

Trope: Teacher/Student (college) (Nsfw) Relationship: Saytr x Human Word Count: 5,426

I quickly grab my clothes from off the floor, putting them on as I shuffle out of the bedroom. Stopping at the door I look back at the naked satyr lounging tangled in his sheets. I can't help but pat myself on the back with the lay tonight. He is a rather sexy man, putting my past one night stands to shame with skills in the bedroom. Hell, I almost overslept from how exhausted he got me. I debate leaving my number as I walk into the living room. Before I can decide my phone chimes, notifying me of my ride outside.

"Shh, shh," I hush the phone, wincing at its volume. Hearing shuffling from the bedroom I quickly abscond out the front door.

Breakfast with Shelby is live with juicy details of our weekend. She talks about her weekend vacation with her boyfriend to her parent's beach resort. I can't help but scoff at her rich family. They spent most of the time there humping like bunnies on every surface. Minimal time was spent actually on the beach.

I share my weekend events, explaining a night spent man hunting and coming up short till the last minute. A handsome satyr bought me a drink, wooing me with his words before getting me back to his place. The night was honestly great, to a surprising degree. He listened and adapted eagerly to every moaned instruction, going above and beyond before reaching his own end.

"Shame you didn't get his number," she says, swiping through her phone.

"Eh, don't think he would have written. He is more of a once in a lifetime lay more than a potential relationship," I shrug, hiding my true disappointment.

"Who knows, maybe you'll see him again," she giggles at her phone, thoroughly distracted now.

"If that fates demand it," I mumble, finishing off my drink in a single swig.

Classes begin today, starting off the spring semester. My day begins with Calculus, Satan's greatest creation. Bless first-day intros that lack any actual work. Next is ITE, the easiest class for someone using computers since they could read and write. Then the first day of classes ends with English, the most weirdly complicated college course besides science.

I walk in and take the first seat closest to the door. Dropping my bag on my desk I begin checking my messages before class begins. I respect the amount of money I spent on these classes not to get distracted by my mobile device. Don't respect that class, but the copious amounts of money spent to sit here and do nothing till I can go home and reteach it all to myself.

The class fills up till it's at compacity, normal for the first day. The teacher walks in shortly after we were scheduled to start, dropping his case on to his desk.

"Hello, hello. Welcome to English 111, I am Mr. Farfick," the teacher begins the class. I set down my phone, shoving it into my bag as I give my sole attention to Mr. Farfick. Our eyes meet immediately as he is already staring, stiff as a bored and white as a sheet. I feel to be in a similar fashion as my blood runs cold and a nervous chuckle wishes to leave my throat.

Hello, Mr. Best-One-Night-Stand-Ever.

The hour and a half are spent in thick tension. Everyone else seems oblivious to the teacher and I's strife. Tobias- Mr. Farfick is fidgeting as he hands out papers, avoiding all contact with me as I do the same. I can't bring myself to look to the teacher who spent hours last week between my legs. Like, how would any expect to look at this man and not have your first thought be him giving you bedroom eyes while eating you out? That's just evil.

2 o'clock couldn't come fast enough, me being the first to bolt out the room. I race to my car, flustered all to hell as unwanted images of his o-face pops into my mind. It plays on repeat, evening morphing scenes to him at his desk doing the same. I can't drop it, I'm not 100% sure if I want to. I shake my head at the idea.

I have to change classes.

The next day I head to the offices to talk with a counselor about changing teachers. I sit in the waiting room longer than necessary till I'm called back. I jump, following the woman into her small box office.

'Hello, what can I help you with today," she asks, already clicking away on her computer.

"Uh, I was curious about other English 111 classes, the day isn't really working for me," I lie.

She nods," of course, let's see. We have a Tuesday and Thursday class at 11 am with Mr. Farfick, or Monday and Wednesday at 12:30 am with the same teacher."

I wince," no other teacher?"

She clicks away again, giving a sorrowful look," no, it appears he is the only available English teacher this semester. I can promise you that he has received nothing but praises from the previous student. He is a good teacher."

'also a good student', I think to myself.

"Alright, I trust you. I guess I'll have to keep it as is and figure it out myself. Thank you," I stand, heading out the office," have a good day."

"You too, bye," she smiles sweetly. I smile back, dropping it with a groan once out of sight. It seems I have no other options besides wasting a semester taking one class later. I have to deal with him.

Class the next day is equally tense as the one before. He ignores me altogether, not even looking to my side of the room as he speaks to the class. I can't blame him, even though it stings a bit. Right now I can't stare at him too long or saucy images pop into my head. Instead of paying attention, I come up with a plan of attack.

The obvious option is to talk to him, getting all out in the open. We were two consenting adults, there was nothing wrong with what we did. He wasn't my teacher and I wasn't his student, if anything it was the other way around. His pleased grin as he watches me cum on his fingers comes to mind. I shake my head from the thought.

2 o'clock comes around, startling me from my thoughts. I watch as the class heads out, leaving me to slowly pack as to stall. As the last student walks out I make my move. I stand before Tobias-Mr. Farfick-, startling him when he looks up.

"H-hello," he greets. It's kind of cute to see him so flustered.

"We should talk," I get straight to the point. He drops his shoulders, sighing as he looks around. He stands from his desk, grabbing his bag as he heads to the door.

"Let's talk in my office then," he leaves me to follow.

We walk up to the teacher's offices, stopping by one as he unlocks the door. He waves me inside, shutting it behind himself as he lounges against it. I look around his station, stalling a bit as I admire his knickknacks and pictures.

"Nice office," I say.

"Thanks," he answers. I glance over at the couch against the wall.

"You have a couch," I say casually," that's neat."

"Yea, I sometimes sleep here when I need it," he answers.

The silence is deafening as small talk falls flat. I sigh, knowing avoiding this won't do us any good.

"About, uh, last week. We don't need to let that affect our school relationship. I won't bring it up if you don't and we can just pretend it didn't happen," I offer.

He jumps from the door," right! I'm sorry I've been so skittish in class, this kind of thing has never happened before and I really didn't know what to do."

"yea, can't say that I've run into this issue before either," I joke with a dry laugh.

The silence comes back just as strong, suffocating me as I try to think of anything to say. I kick my shoe against his carpet, cleaning off a bit of dirt. With a huff, I look back at him.

"Well, I guess that's it. I'm going to head out now," I point to the door," yep." I skirt past him, grabbing the handle. As I tug it open he speaks.

"Why did you leave in the middle of the night," he asks. I freeze, confused. I shut the door as I turn back to him.

"What?"

"Before, you snuck out before morning and I was really wondering why. I don't do the one-night stand thing often but when I have they normally stay for breakfast," he explains. I'm caught off guard by his genuine displeasure of me leaving that night. In my experience men generally don't want me around the next morning.

"You wanted me to stay for breakfast," I ask dumbfounded.

"well yea," he says like it was obvious," you were really fun at the bar and I wanted to try to get your number if you were up for that."

"You wanted my number?"

"of course. I thought the night was fun, even great, and going out for dinner sometime was something I wanted to do with you," he shrugs," but you clearly weren't up for that as you snuck out in the middle of the night."

I stare at him even more confused," you wanted to get dinner sometime?"

"Can you stop repeating what I've said," he snaps," you know what, never mind. I was just curious and for the next week I kept thinking, 'did I do something wrong' 'was the sex not that good'? It hardly matters now so excuse me for taking up your time. Feel free to see yourself out." he stomps out of the way, his hooves clomping on the floor. I continue to look at him dumbfounded, utterly conflicted at his confession. No man has ever wanted me to stick around.

His dejected face plucks at my heart as my emotions guide me forward. Without truly thinking I grab his tie and tugs him close, pressing my lips to his in a determined kiss. He jumps, not reacting as I pull away.

"If I'd known you wanted me to stay for breakfast I would have stayed. I would have love to give you my number. I honestly don't know if I would have agreed to dinner but my answer may have leaned towards yes, and you were the best sex I ever had," I ramble on, answering all his questions in one go.

It takes a moment for him to catch up, I give him a second to catch up. I fiddle with his tie, becoming nervous as he stares at me dazed.

"The best sex you ever had," he huffs with a smile.

"By a long shot," I smile wide. He grabs me and tugs me against his body as he steals a kiss. The taunt string that sat between us snaps as he backs me against his desk. He lifts me easily onto the tabletop, fitting himself between my legs. I run my hands through his hair, petting at his horns before tugging him closer.

Our tongues mix as we fiddle with one another's pants. I reach into his easily, finding his hard cock and pulling it out. He unbuttons my pants, tugging them hard down my legs. As I jerk him off he splits away from my lips, a string of saliva connecting us. I lick it away, grinning like a fool at his dazed face. I palm him, pleased to be reacquainted once more. With a groan he splits my legs farther, shoving my underwear to the side to pet at my cunt.

"So wet," he hums," I need you."

I squeeze his cock as I whisper in his ear," then take me, Professor." he rewards me with another moan, his head dropping to my shoulder as he shoos my hand away from his cock. He tugs me to the end of the desk, wrapping my legs around him as he thrusts in.

He whines," Divine.' I couldn't agree more.

He doesn't draw this out any longer, grabbing my hips and pumping into me. We both grunt and groan, keeping quiet despite the thumps of his thighs hitting the desk are louder than us. I hold on to him, already feeling the throbbing in my clit. Everything about this adds to the appeal. Fucking in his office where anyone can walk in. Fucking my teacher shortly after class. Fucking the sexy Satyr from last week. All together brings me towards my climax faster than normal.

Tobias grunts, stuttering in his movement. He begins panting, lazily kissing my shoulder. His hand snakes around from my hip to where we meet, beginning to rub at my clit with practiced ease. It seems he hasn't forgotten. I choke on a cry, burying my face against his neck as I tug on his tie and fist his hair.

"Please, please," I ramble under my breath. My body feels like fire as my coming climax starts to wash over me. I jerk into his next few thrust, wanting to worship his magic fingers. I cum with a surprised yelp, biting into my fist as my legs tremble around his hips. He grunts, his face pinching in agony as he bucks wildly. A few wavy moans leave his lips as he tosses his head back. I feel him cum, pulsing as he fills me. I shudder at the feeling, my nails digging into his hair.

He comes back to himself first, dropping his head so his hair obscures his face. With a large breath, he looks at me between his bangs. He smiles, getting me to smile back.

"Never disappoint, Annika," he praises. I nearly giggle like a girl at that.

"Not so bad yourself," I tug on his tie, pulling him into a kiss. We bask in the afterglow, feeling high as we lazily kiss. It isn't till someone knocks on his door does the reality of our situation sink in.

Quickly, he pulls out, tucking himself away as I right my underwear. He straightens his tie, fixing his hair as I hop off the desk to pull on my pants. I feel his cum dribble out, shivering in mild disgust at the feeling. I walk over to my bag swinging it over my shoulder as Tobias- Mr. Farfick- answers the door.

"Hello," an older woman greets," Do you have a moment?" she glances at me then back to him.

"Uh, yea," he jumps to attention," we finished our conversation, let me just see Mrs. Annika out."

The older woman walks in, stepping near his desk, as he guides me to the door. I step out into the hall, turning to him when I notice him lingering. He grabs the door and doorframe, leaning towards me to whisper in my ear.

"See you in class next week," he purrs. A blush curls up against my neck as I give an unsteady, 'ok'. He chuckles, warm and deep, before shutting the door.

I stare at the closed door for a moment, everything truly setting in now that I'm alone. A shiver of excitement rumbles around my body as I rush down the hall. I make it out of the building and to my car where I sit in silence to think about everything.

"He creampied me in his office," I say surprised," my teacher creampied me." I grab the steering wheel to steady myself, groaning in discomfort. "what the hell is wrong with me," I shout," nobody actually does this! I don't do things like this, I'm a semi-good person who definitely doesn't sleep with their fucking teacher!"

I try to scold myself, I really do, but it was all too good to be truly mad about it. Tobias is just… he is fantastic. I know if given the chance to sleep with him again I would take it, with no hesitations. Still, it's my teacher. Sure he is my teacher for just the semester and I met him before then, but should it be an issue? Will he get fired if someone knew? This isn't high school rules anymore, it's not illegal, but he could get fired.

"fuck," I thunk my head on the steering wheel," he better know what he's doing because I sure as hell don't."

I finally drive home, still going over what happened. The weekend comes and goes as I get the minimal homework I have done. When Monday comes I'm almost giddy at the aspect of having English today. Who knew the only way to get me excited over school was to fuck my teacher?

Calculus almost gets my mood down, almost. ITE continues to be the easiest class in existence. Finally, English 111.

Mr. Farfick is here on time, sitting on his computer and not paying anyone a bit of mind. I sit in my previous spot by the door, trying my damndest not to stare at him. We didn't decide if we were going to ignore what happened, the two cases of it. Are we pretending it didn't happen? Will it happen again? I nearly moaned at the idea of it happening again.

"Hello, hello," he greets," I hope you all had a lovely weekend and managed to get the one assignment I gave you done." he looks out to the class, not avoiding me but not paying attention. Are we pretending it never happened? A few people groan out a droll yes as we all get out our assignment.

He walks the room, picking them up at the end of each row. As he passes mine he stops.

"Did you do your homework," he asks casually. I hand him the stack with a nod. He mumbles loud enough for me," Good girl," and walks on. I choke on my breath, gulping hard as I try not to smile like a fool.

Guess we aren't ignoring anything.

Class is filled with subtle glances and double meaning remarks. It's hard to not give him flirty looks and twirl my hair like some freshman. I try to keep it professional while playing along. Class ends and I stall putting my things away. As the last student leaves, I walk up to his desk.

"Afternoon, Annika," he smiles to himself as he works on his computer," do you need something?"

"Besides you," I shrug, resting my hip next to his desk," maybe."

He looks up with a pleased grin," you need me? Should I be so tempted?"

"Not yet, I have some questions," I say with a bit more seriousness. He sobers a bit, leaning forward on crossed arms.

"What can I help you with, Annika," he asks. His genuine want to help shines through as he focuses solely on me. It makes me stutter a little, my heartwarming up more to him.

"two things," I start," what's happening here, and will we get in trouble for it?" it's best to cut to the chase with this.

He smiles again," worried, Annika?"

"About my degree, yes," I answer honestly.

He drops his chin to his desk," you won't get in trouble, I might, but it's mostly surface-level disciplinary actions like time off and pay cut."

"Are you so willing to lose money because of a fling," I ask, a little angry at his lack of self-preservation.

"A fling," he cocks a brow," would I be too bold to want more than that?"

I recoil at him, not put off but surprised. "You want a relationship or something," I ask.

He nods," I told you I liked you, Annika, and I'd like to see where this goes. Of course, I'm not going to force you but if I want something I generally go for it. To let a few weeks decide if I should drop all feelings for you or not seems rather stupid. I won't be your teacher for long, and you won't be my student for long. So why stall just so we don't feel weird about it?"

I watch him, a bit lost in thought. I mean, he has a point. As long as I don't get in trouble and he doesn't care about getting in trouble then what's the issue? Still, it begs the question of 'am I interested in being in a relationship with him?'. I look at his eager face, seeing the dorky man that lies within. He is excited and I think I feel that too.

"ok," I shrug.

"Ok?"

"ok, as in yes or sure. Generally another word for affirmation," I explain as I reach into my bag, ripping a small piece of paper out.

He watches eagerly," I know what that means, but what are you affirming?"

I write my number on the paper, handing it to him," to going out. Now I have to leave, feel free to write."

I walk out with a cute little wave. He looks from me to the paper, smiling wide as he gets his phone out. I walk out of the building with a pep in my step.

He calls later that day, to my surprise. I answer the unsaved number knowing fully well who it is.

"Hello, hello," I mimic his class greetings.

"evening, Annika, hope I'm not calling at a bad time," his voice purrs through the speaker. I lounge back in my bed, pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder.

"Of course not, I was just doing some boring English homework," I tease.

"Boring? How rude of the teacher to give out such lame assignments then," he answers. I snort, shaking my head.

"It's fine, he's pretty cute so he can get away with keeping English boring," I joke.

"We will get back to the cute part, you don't like English?"

I grab the paper on the bed, looking it over," it's not my favorite, I tolerate it. Perhaps I just need proper motivation."

"What kind of motivation?"

I hum," not sure, some positive reinforcement wouldn't hurt."

"like perhaps an evening with your 'cute' professor," he asks, his voice low and sultry. I nibble on my lip, feeling giddy.

"Wouldn't hurt," I bite back a smile," I heard he is really good in bed."

"Is that right? I don't think he would mind giving up some of his free time to keep you motivated to pass," he says.

"you would know?"

"of course, I'm really close with him," he drops his game, speaking without the erotic purr," can we stop pretending I'm not him, I'm getting hard and I wanted to have an actual conversation with you."

I bark out a laugh," you're hard? I didn't even do anything."

He snorts," oh, you did plenty. I could barely sit in class today without thinking about bending you over my desk. See your cute little pussy soaked and spread for my enjoyment."

"that's so cruel, how am I to sit in class now knowing what your thinking. Every time you walk by I just wanna grab your horns and drag you to you're knees to get you to work on getting this 'little pussy' ready for your enjoyment," I tease back. I hear a faint groan from him as if he pulled the phone away.

"Stop, I wanted to be a gentleman and ask you how your day was," he scolds.

"well it's better now, only if you were here to deal with this throbbing between my legs it would be amazing," I grin as he groans again.

"Naughty, naughty," he tsks," tell me about your day and we can decide tomorrow how to deal with you in my office."

"Promise," I ask.

"Promise," he says firmly.

We actually manage to talk about something other than sex. I talk about my day, as does he, and go on about my degree. It's sweet how attentive he is throughout, adding feedback about class courses and teacher drama. The entire time we talk I can't wipe the smile off my face.

The next day in his office is…eventful.

"Fuck," he moans near my ear. He pounds into me against his bookshelf, the shelves hitting uncomfortably against my back. I can't bother to care as his finger rubs my clit and his cock pumps into me. Small wails leave my lips, leading him to cover my mouth with his own. Our cries of pleasure mix, his hips adding the beat to our music of the body.

"Please," I beg against his lips.

"I got you," he mumbles. I grapple at his shoulders, squeezing him closer with my legs and grinding into his thrusts. He grabs my hands from around him, pinning them on the shelf with our fingers clasped together. He kisses me, swallowing my groans as I fall apart.

"T-Tobias," I shutter.

"Annika," he echoes back, squeezing my hand as his face pinches. His cum floods me once again, painting my insides with his seed. We rest against each other, breathing heavily in the silent room. Tobias rocks his hips slowly, leaning down to press sweet kisses to my cheek and neck.

"So beautiful," he whispers," I could stay like this forever."

I smile lazily," yea, I could to-" I'm interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Mr. Farfick," a younger voice calls out. Their silhouette is partially seen through the frosted glass.

"Shit," Tobias- Mr. Farfick- curses. He pulls out, setting me down gently on my feet. I watch him fumble with his clothes, tucking himself away and rebuttoning his shirt. He is quite the sight as I slowly fix my clothes.

"Seem a bit flustered there," I tease.

He looks to me a bit panicked as he fixes his tie," well yea, there is a student at my door."

"Mr. Farfick," they call again.

"Just a moment," he answers back.

I button my shorts as a mischievous smile curls my lips," I thought you didn't mind getting caught."

"No, I said it's not a big deal if I get caught, but I rather not if I can help it," he corrects. I stand at the bookshelf with my shirt still undone and bra unhooked. With him all proper and straight he looks to me, his eyes drop to my breast before he looks back to me.

He squints as he walks over and begins to right my clothes," Don't be evil right now."

I tug his tie and brings him in for a kiss," who says I'm being evil."

He closes his eye in frustration, growling low in his throat," be a good girl and go sit down by the desk."

"Ok, Mr. Farfick," I purr, kissing his cheek before I sit back down. He huffs, walking over to the door. Before he opens it he throws me a warning look.

"Sorry, I was speaking with another student. What do you need," he asks the tall lad before him. I don't bother paying attention, looking around his room, and thinking back on moments ago.

I don't hear him shut the door or walk over till he grabs my hair and slowly guides my head back. He scowls down at me, pulling my hair a little tighter

"Something wrong," I ask casually.

"You, young lady, are in big trouble," he twists my chair and frames me with his arms. I grab his tie again, pulling him closer.

"what? Little old me," I mock innocence. He rolls his eyes, letting me tug him in for a kiss.

The semester is a lot more fun than I anticipated. We have fewer moments in his office after the last incident with the student. But we make up for it at his place on the weekends. English becomes a lot more fun when every good grade is rewarded with gratuitous sex.

At the final week of class, I lay in Tobias' bed, snuggled up in his arms after another study session. I pet my foot up his hairy legs, relishing in the softness of his fur. He opens his eyes, a lazy smile decorating his face.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Hello," he shuts his eyes back, pulling me closer.

"Finals are next week, imma be a bit too busy to come over," I say quietly, not wanting to break the peace of the room.

He hums, answering in his gravelly voice," you sure you don't want some help studying?"

"I actually need to study," I answer," we do a lot less studying when together."

He gropes at my ass," I don't know what you mean, I think we did a lot of studying tonight."

I snort," yea if I was taking anatomy." he chuckles, snuggling his face against my chest. I pet at his hair, pushing it off his forehead and around his horns.

"I wanna make a deal if I have to spend a week without you," he grumbles from between my breast.

"What kind of deal," I scratch the back of his head. He hums, rubbing his cheeks against my boob.

"Pass all your exams and I'll take you out to dinner as a reward. Nothing cheap, but a genuine date," he looks up at me as he speaks. We haven't gone out before, deciding against it for reasons. The fact that he wants to almost knocks the breath from me. A part of me always saw this as a fling, even though he hasn't validated that thought. We talk, often, but sex is a given anytime we're in the same room. It's nice to be properly taken out, shown off without the threat of consequences.

"And if I fail," I ask instead of answering. He cocks a brow, rising and crawling over me. I pet at his chest, smiling at where this was going. He leans down, kissing under my jaw.

He whispers," let's just say, I suggest you don't." I can't stop the girlish giggle that leaves my mouth, relishing in the love bites being littered across my neck.

The next week is rather torturous. I nearly call Tobias just to get an excuse to stop doing study packets. I hold strong, keeping distractions to a minimum. For some reason, I really wanna get the best grade I can, perhaps to have something to be proud of when I show Tobias. I fluster at the idea that I want to impress him.

Exams are torturous, especially in Calculus. The ITE exam was a joke, only one or two questions being confusing. English wasn't hard but trying to focus with Tobias just a few feet away was its own form of torture. When he walked around the room I nearly covered my answers in pure nervousness. The one time I catch his eyes, he gives a sweet motivating smile. I keep that with me as I turn in the test and walk out.

I don't see Tobias till grades are posted, wanting to give him whatever news I have the second I know. I skip to his house, feeling giddy as I knock on his door. I bounce on my toes, waiting for him to answer as I pinch my phone in my hand. The door opens and I nearly shove the phone in his face with my excitement.

"I passed them all," I cheer. He takes the phone from me, checking it over.

"Got a C in calculus," he tries to scold, a smile still tugging on the corners of his mouth.

I roll my eyes," C's get degrees, you try taking that class."

"You're right, I can't talk, I failed calculus in high school," he sets my phone on the table by the door and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, hugging him as we walk inside.

"So dinner this weekend," I ask, bouncing in his hold.

"Well, since you were such a good girl. I guess," he jokes," but first, I've missed you." he carries me over to his bedroom, dropping me on the bed before crawling over me. I drag him down for a kiss, smiling like a fool the entire time.

"Proud of you," he says between kisses," you did very well."

"it's because I had a good teacher," I tease. He snorts, working on removing my clothes as I work on his.

I do hope the sex isn't different now that he isn't my teacher. He makes me swallow those words that night.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #teacher/student #exophilia #monster boyfriend #Enigma-IM #satyr boyfriend

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amillionsmiles · 4 years ago

Text

in your bedroom after the war (Dick/Artemis)

Title: in your bedroom after the war Summary: As far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could be doing worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass. / Post-Invasion, pre-Outsiders. Rated M. A/N: I have one (1) agenda and that is messy grieving fuck buddies who are each other’s ride-or-dies. if you are not into fic that sits squarely in sad feral horny territory, then this is probably not your speed.

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.

| GOTHAM

| JANUARY 14, 2017; 12:05 AM EST

Artemis is a bit heavier than she was in her teenage years, but her feet land lightly on the fire escape by the window. An hour ago, she’d called her mom from Metropolis, promising she’d be home by midnight. Ever since her daughter faked her death a year ago, Paula Nguyen has become even more of a worrywart, and Artemis knows that the five minutes she’s running late are going to cause her to receive an earful.

“Didn’t think I’d see you back in this neck of the woods.” A familiar figure drops from the roof above onto the rung below her.

“Nightwing.”

She’s not surprised that he’s been keeping tabs. Officially, he’s been on a leave of absence for the past six months, but Dick, like her, is vigilant in his grief.

She’d come back to Gotham because it put her closer to Metropolis and Beta Squad’s continued investigation of LexCorp, but the truth is that she could have Zeta-tubed from Palo Alto easily. Their—her—apartment had been no good though, not without Wally. So she’d left most of her things in storage to figure out later and moved back in with her mom. On days when Artemis can’t muster the energy to get out of bed, Paula wheels determinedly around the kitchen, ready to whip up some mì xào or a warm bowl of mì gói. They play card games and laugh about how bad Wally was at tiến lên the first time Paula tried to teach him. Your boy has no patience, he always wants to play his strongest cards right away, her mom had teased, and Wally had protested, I make it a rule to always put my best foot forward! and Artemis had loved him even more then.

Loved. Loves. She hates the past tense.

“I mean, were you ever going to ask me to grab coffee?”

She can see the bits of Wally in his cracks. In a room together, it was always easy to tell they were best friends from the way they riffed off each other. The acrobat and the speedster: all verbal gymnastics and fast-moving quips. But unlike Wally, who liked poking fun because he liked getting attention, Dick is at his wittiest when trying to avoid talking about himself.

Artemis reaches out and pulls him to sit down beside her. She makes a show of looking at her watch.

“How’s… 12:15 AM this Saturday?”

Dick pretends to check it against his mental schedule. If his is anything like hers, it probably goes: Wake up. Exercise (beating up bad guys counts). Mourn.

“Yeah, seems like I can swing it.”

“Perfect,” says Artemis, sliding up the glass panes to let them into her childhood bedroom. “I’ve got just the stuff.”

In the kitchen, Brucely stirs briefly from his dog bed to sniff the air and yip, then curls back asleep. Paula hands Dick a mug, waiting for him to take a sip before saying, “So you were the one who had the brilliant plan to have my daughter fake her death.”

Dick splutters; from the table, Artemis rises to his defense. “Mom,” she says. “Leave him be.”

Setting his cup down, Dick leans against the cabinets, bending his head slightly and rubbing the back of his neck. He does a good job of appearing chastised, and Artemis wants to roll her eyes, if only because she’s heard from Bette and Raquel that this pose is far too effective at convincing women to want to forgive him or try again.

“I’m not leading much of anything these days, if that’s at all a comfort to you.”

“Hmph.” Paula sniffs. “You live alone?”

“Yeah.” Dick shoots Artemis a questioning look over her mom’s head. Artemis shrugs.

“What do you do to fill the time?”

“A lot of reading. Gotham’s library system actually has a pretty good selection, believe it or not. I’ve also gotten really into meditating.”

“And you don’t sleep.”

Dick stiffens. For the first time, he looks exposed, a boy with too much guilt and too much time on his hands.

“I do. Tonight I was just… restless.”

Paula nods and backs up her wheelchair so she can sit by Artemis, curling her fingers over Artemis’s hand and squeezing. She raises her drink, Artemis and Dick following suit, the three of them toasting to invisible losses.

“Aren’t we all.”

Later, back on the fire escape, Dick taps his fingers against the railing, jittery. “I feel like I need to start doing jumping jacks. What was in that stuff?”

Artemis bites back a smile. “Yeah, Vietnamese coffee packs a hit. That’s my bad. Probably should have given you something non-caffeinated at this hour.”

“It’s fine. I’ll jog it out, or something.” He turns to go, but Artemis stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, listen—it was good seeing you tonight. And if you need someone to talk to…” What she really means is: it’d be nice to be around someone who’s hurting as much as I am. Not to say that the rest of the team wasn’t as torn up over Wally’s death, but she and Dick had been ground zero. Closest to the blast.

After a pause, Dick nods. “Yeah… I could use a sparring partner, actually. I’ll send you an address.”

“Okay.” Satisfied, Artemis withdraws her hand, curling her fingers into her palm.

It feels like a start.

Dick’s directions lead Artemis to Wayne Manor; from there he takes her to the Bat Cave.

“I thought you were striking out on your own,” Artemis says, using her forearms to deflect a kick to her face. Dick grunts and recovers, throwing a punch to her stomach; she dances out of the way.

“I am. I just pop in here from time to time because Bruce has better equipment. Plus there’s less of a chance of me disturbing the neighbors.” He gestures to the eerily blue-lit stone walls around them.

Artemis feints and goes low, ducking under Dick’s guard. Two quick hits to Dick’s sternum pushes him back, before he gets a hand on her wrist and twists her around so that her back is pressed against his chest.

“Weren’t we supposed to be talking?”

Kicking his shin, Artemis breaks free. “All right, fine. I’ll start.” Jab. “I keep wanting a scapegoat.” Kick. “Like, one person to blame, instead of something as big as the Reach. But it’s not some giant revenge thing, and I know Wally wouldn’t want me to go down that sort of all-consuming rabbit hole even if it was, and that pisses. Me. Off.” On those last words, she manages to use Dick’s momentum against him and flips him over her shoulder.

For a minute, it’s so quiet between them she can hear the faint plip of water dripping from a stalactite into the water below the sparring dais. Still lying on the floor, Dick confesses, “I keep hearing him.”

“I make a joke to myself and he’s there, in my ear, with the punchline. And then…” He passes a hand over his face. “And then I realize that the real punchline is him being gone.”

Slowly, Artemis approaches him. She feels like she did when they were undercover at Haly’s circus so many years ago, that brief moment of hangtime before their hands connected in the air. She means to sit down next to him, pat his shoulder, she doesn’t know what, but instead Dick sweeps her legs out from under her and she goes down hard, the air whooshing out of her chest as she falls flat on her back.

“Agh!” The release sets something loose inside her. Next thing she knows, she’s yelling again, louder, just because.

Dick catches on and then it’s just the two of them shouting, their voices echoing through the cavern, threading around and piling atop each other like a flock of birds. After they’re done, Dick rolls so that they’re lying side by side.

“You know, when we were starting out—when we first became friends—I used to make fun of Wally that if he kept talking so much while running he was bound to swallow more bugs, or something. And he’d just shoot back like, ‘Nah dude, you think I’m not fast enough to see them and dodge them in the air?’ But you know how he was always so hungry after missions? One time I was so mad at him I put a bug in his sandwich. I’ve never forgotten the look on his face after he bit into it and I said, dodge that.”

“You didn’t.” Artemis gasps and covers her mouth, horrified, but she can see it so vividly: the colors draining from Wally’s face, making his freckles pop even more against his skin, the same greenish tint his cheeks took the time they went to Vietnam and he got food poisoning. He’d spent two days feverishly glaring up at the mosquito netting, and Artemis had draped cold hand towels over his forehead and promised she wasn’t going to leave him for the very obliging boy who kept bringing them ice.

“I did.” Dick is gleeful. “Really put the ‘rank’ in prank.”

Artemis snorts; the snort turns into a full-blown guffaw. Dick turns toward her, laughing too. His hair is matted with sweat but still soft; it brushes against her forehead.

It feels so good to be close to someone again, to be able to flip on a dime from sadness to frustration to anger to laughter and not have to explain herself. She can’t remember the last time she smiled and didn’t feel guilty about it, and she means it more affectionately than anything when she reaches over and brings Dick’s mouth to hers, like if she inhales whatever they’ve temporarily managed to create here between them, it’ll be enough to tide her over for the next few months. For a second, he’s warm and responsive, before his lips stiffen and he pulls back.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Shouldn’t beat yourself up about it, shouldn’t blame yourself for getting back in the game. Artemis is sick of people telling her how to deal, how it’s supposed to go. It’ll get better and then it doesn’t. People talk like there are guidebooks for this kind of shit, like it’s a marathon she just needs to pace herself through. And it’s the stupidest thing, but she misses being held.

She sits up and crosses her arms, resisting the urge to curl in on herself. “You didn’t do anything. I’ll go.”

“No, Artemis, wait, I don’t think you should go, I just want to understand what’s going on—”

“I want you to touch me, okay?” she explodes. “I want you to touch me because he’s never going to again and I know you loved him too and—and maybe if it’s you, I won’t feel so desperately alone.”

Dick looks stricken, and then, hesitantly, he reaches for her. His eyes are so blue, the kind of crushed eggshell you’d use to make a paint. “You’re not alone.”

“Prove it,” she says, vision blurring with tears—wanting, needing him closer, and then his hairline is up against hers again and his nose is at her cheek, his mouth at her jaw, soft but with a willingness to bruise. Don’t ask me what we’re about to do, Artemis silently begs, and Dick doesn’t.

Wally had been a restless lover. Always turning them over, switching positions. Artemis had taken it as a challenge, part of the ongoing competition that defined their relationship. Deep down, she’d known that Wally would be just as content if the rest of their sex life consisted solely of spooning gently on Sundays, which, if anything, was why she’d been so eager to experiment—because it felt like an easy gift she could give, not something she had to master to “maintain excitement” or make him stay.

She’s not sure what she expected from Dick. Maybe that’s a comfort—that she wasn’t fantasizing before they happened, wondering about all the mechanics of how it would go. Dick lets her call the shots, lets her ride him into the ground, the grip of his fingers around her thighs the only reminder she isn’t just angling toward oblivion. When he presses his thumb between her legs, it’s a weird sort of anchor—like hearing a voice pick up on a line you thought was dead. She has a body, and here’s someone on the other end of it, caring about her release. As soon as that thought hits, the relief shudders through her; she keeps rocking long enough to feel Dick follow, a stutter and a grunt, before she collapses boneless over him, the sweat of his skin a comforting stickiness against her cheek.

Internally, she apologizes to Bruce for desecrating his training space. Then again, they’re hardly the first of the Justice League to get handsy in less than appropriate places. She’s seen how Black Canary and Green Arrow act around each other.

Below her, Dick catches his breath. The rush of blood—his or hers—is loud in her ears.

“I didn’t think you’d be so…” Giving, she means to say, but it gets lost on her tongue. “I mean, Zatanna…” she trails off again.

If Dick’s embarrassed at the prospect of his ex-girlfriend having blabbed about the details of their sex life to Artemis, he doesn’t show it. His fingers find a snag in her hair; gently, he works it loose. The air smells hedonistic. He keeps combing. Nice is the only word she can think to describe it, and that makes her want to cry again, so she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his chest.

Dick pauses his ministrations. He flattens his palm against the base of her neck and just—holds her there.

“Don’t mention it.”

When she goes home that afternoon to shower, she runs the water on full blast for a long time.

Armed with Chinese food, she visits Dick’s place the next day intent on making amends. Dick doesn’t even act surprised; he just points to the glass coffee table where she can set the bag of chopsticks, napkins, and takeout.

“I’m trying to decide what to watch.”

There’s really no need for him to stand in front of the TV the way he does, one hand propped on his hip as he clicks through options with the remote. Artemis lets herself ogle, a bit. The surest way to blow past what happened between them yesterday is to be honest with herself, right? And as far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could have done worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass.

“Any preferences?”

“Between what?” asks Artemis, cracking open the carton of lo mein and settling back against the cushions. The Netflix suggestion algorithm onscreen paints a condemning picture of Dick’s tastes. “True crime or… true crime?”

Wally had been really into nature documentaries. One time during freshman year, when they were still living on Stanford’s campus, they’d gotten high in Wally’s dorm room and watched Blue Planet. Wally had cried when the seal got flung apart by killer whales.

“I’ll Be Gone in the Dark it is, then,” says Dick. He settles next to her on the couch, peeling back one of the orders and sniffing its contents. “What’s this one?”

“Salt and pepper ribs. They were today’s special.”

“Artemis.” Dick beams. “You really do care about me.”

Ten minutes into the episode begs a single question: “Isn’t it sort of depressing that you spend so much of your day fighting crime, and then you go home to unwind and just watch… more of it?”

Dick shrugs. “It keeps me sharp. And it’s nice seeing other people solve problems.”

“Well, if you ever feel like branching out, there’s a short film about Rubik’s cubes you might like.” Artemis nudges his side. “Remember when you were a scrawny math geek?”

Bringing both hands behind his head, Dick smirks. “Still a math geek. Just not scrawny.”

Artemis stares. That was just a bit of friendly showboating, right? Or was it a flirt? Not trusting herself, she whips her gaze back toward the TV. What feels like eons later, the credits roll.

“Artemis,” Dick says, too soft for having just finished a show about murder. He taps the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got some food stuck.”

She wipes with the back of her hand; a breaded piece of orange chicken emerges as the culprit. Without thinking, she flicks it off, sending it flying somewhere onto Dick’s carpet.

“Oops.”

Chuckling, Dick shakes his head. “I need to vacuum tomorrow, anyways.”

The mention of tomorrow stirs her. “Right. I should head out.”

“Yeah.” Dick rises to help her clean up their mess, holding open the plastic bag so she can toss in the soiled napkins and other bits of trash. “Or—”

He hesitates, but the hesitation’s enough. It might as well be a hand on her wrist, with how it stops her in her tracks. All night, despite what she told herself, she’s been looking for proof: proof that his aloneness fits the shape of hers, that he needs her, too. This time, Dick makes the first move—cups her face in both hands and kisses her, slow and deep and full of heat. Some pepper from the food they ate still lingers on his lips, making her mouth tingle, and Artemis is dizzy and flat on her back on the couch before she knows it, giving in.

Not scrawny at all, she thinks, admiring the solidness of Dick’s knees on either side of her, the weight of his frame as they grind together. The sheer mechanics of it feel very horny-teenager-after-prom, but the way Dick sucks her bottom lip and swallows her breath down with it is decidedly adult. These days, Artemis practically lives in her sports bra, which doesn’t exactly grant easy access, but when Dick’s fingertips skim over the cotton covering her breasts the sensation zings all the way down her spine.

“Need… off…”

“Yeah,” Dick murmurs, humming as he moves down the column of her neck. “Gimme a sec, I’m working on it.”

She’d worn sweats because she figured their bagginess would keep her from sparring again and any potential… situations that could arise from that. Instead, all it means is Dick unties the drawstrings easily, sliding her pants down her legs. Cool air brushes across her as he shifts positions; she wants to sob in relief. His teeth graze her hip and then catch the edge of her panties and—oh. Fuck. The moan tears out of her and she scrabbles at the armrest, hips rising of their own accord. Next time, she is handcuffing Dick to a bed, because what he’s doing with his tongue and fingers should be illegal. She can feel him grinning, the bastard, and the only thing keeping her from crushing his head to a pulp between her thighs is the maneuver he pulls where he hooks her knees over his shoulders, so he can change the angle and plunge in deeper. Artemis shoves the edge of her T-shirt into her mouth at the last minute, only barely managing to muffle her cry.

Dick surfaces from his solo mission looking entirely too satisfied, mouth glistening. Trembling, still, from her orgasm, Artemis squints at him, possessed by some combination of unbridled lust and rage.

“Dick.”

“You calling, or asking?”

“Shut up,” she hisses. She feels like a newborn foal, after what he just did to her, but the urge to dismantle him just as thoroughly sends her surging upward and pushing him back. Dick welcomes their reversed positions by peeling off his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder, all while Artemis works furiously at his belt. It shouldn’t feel so good, to hear the metal clink against his button and watch the leather slide through the loops. To see the shadows the light of the TV casts on him—the lashes on his cheeks, the hollow of his throat. Artemis hadn’t paid much attention the first time, too desperate and caught up a bit in self-loathing, but now she’s actually enjoying this, savoring the flex of Dick’s abs as he pushes up to meet her, his skin pebbling at her touch.

“I’m going to take you apart,” she purrs.

Dick groans and bucks. The sensation sends a sharp spike of pleasure through her, and she clamps down on him tighter, refusing to yield.

“Try me, Tigress,” he rasps, pushing himself up on one arm so he can mouth at her collarbone. With his other hand, he pulls off her hairtie so her hair comes free of her ponytail, and this is going to be a thing with him, isn’t it, him wanting to fuck her while her hair swings loose around her face. She indulges him for a few minutes, claws his back and bites his shoulder for good measure, but then she’s pushing him back down and stretching out her body as languidly as possible to remind him who’s boss. Their pace slows. Dick keeps a hand fisted in her hair, so he can tug her head back in order to keep her neck exposed to his wanton mouth, but his grip gets less sure the closer she pushes him to the edge.

“Art—” says Dick, the single syllable like a painting pinned to the wall, fraught with desire, and then he just lets it drop, the tresses of her hair falling through his fingers. She wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that he does look like a boy wonder, right then, in the midst of coming undone, chest flushed and hair mussed and pupils blown nearly wide enough to overtake the blue.

She doesn’t, but she stays the night, and that’s close enough.

High-functioning, Artemis’s therapist had called her, before Artemis moved back to Gotham. And it does feel like a high—the sneaking around, the after-hours meet-ups, the back-and-forth. There’s no one really keeping tabs on her, though Artemis has plenty of cover stories if anyone asks (new intel, side reconnaissance, etcetera, etcetera). Her mom eyes her and says, “As long as you’re not planning on staging your own death again, because I will find out and I will kill you this time,” and that’s that. Artemis nearly laughs. If anything, what she’s doing is the opposite, a small resurrection. An entire month and a half passes this way: day trips and dinners and movie nights and Dick and her in a bathtub, in the shower, against a wall. She even wears a gown and heels once, not because they have an actual event to attend, but because Dick has a fantasy that involves taking her from behind in the Wayne Manor library.

They’re in his apartment on a Sunday morning bathing in the afterglow, sheets tangled around their waists. Thank god Dick is one of those assholes that splurged on not only a nice mattress but also a solid bed frame. Artemis reaches over to push the hair out of his eyes. The black tuft on the back of his head that she likes grabbing is fluffed up like a duck's tail, and under the sunlight slanting through the windows, he looks angelic.

“Are you falling back asleep?”

Yawning, Dick snags her around the waist, dragging her to him. She should not delight this much in being manhandled.

“You wore me out,” he complains, tucking his chin over her shoulder.

“They just don’t make them like they used to,” Artemis sighs. Dick growls a little at the dig, fingers tightening against her hip.

Well. If he’s going to nap, she is, too. Comfortably spooned, she snuggles back against him, prepared to drift off.

“Do you think Wally would have wanted…” Dick doesn’t finish the thought.

Artemis turns in his arms. Dick has long eyelashes, and he’s looking at her through them almost bashfully. She places a hand on his chest. Feels his heartbeat thump once, twice.

“I think he would want us to be happy.”

“Are you?” Dick’s voice fades out and he has to swallow hard to clear his throat. “Happy?”

“I’m not… miserable.”

Dick runs his hand up her bare arm, over her shoulder. “Me neither.”

“You know, Wally and I thought…” She bites her lip, remembering a whoosh of air, Wally speeding to her side to kiss her and interrupting her report on the disabled Paris MFD. I know we promised each other we’d get out of this game, but maybe we can have our life together and play hero, too. “We thought we’d have everything.”

Dick’s response isn’t mournful; it’s matter-of-fact. “After my parents died, I never really convinced myself that I could have it all.”

“That sounds like something Batman would say.”

“Does it?”

“A little.”

Once upon a time, Artemis had stood before the team ready to lay bare her darkest secret, waiting to be kicked out. And Dick had shown his hand: he’d known from the beginning and hadn’t cared. You aren’t your family. You’re one of us. She knows he’s second-guessed himself over the years, wondering how fit he actually is to play leader. But for her, trust has always been the easiest thing about the two of them. It was why she’d said yes so easily to his deep cover mission—because she knew that he wouldn’t quit until he’d brought all of them home, that he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.

Taking his face in both her hands, she looks deep into his eyes. “You deserve good things, Dick Grayson.”

“Mm.” Dick smiles into her kiss, hooks his ankle over hers. “Keep telling me that. I’ll start to believe it.”

Jade abandons Will and Lian on a Tuesday, and Artemis’s carefully crafted equilibrium falls apart. At least this time she’s not the one directly being left, unlike when she was a teenager. Her expectations of her older sister had hardly been high, but if she’d plotted them on a graph they’d have trended upward. Now they’ve tanked.

“Did she leave any hint of where she was going?” Dick asks over the whir of his juicer. He’s gotten really into squeezing oranges lately; Artemis can’t complain because he always gives her the first glass.

“It’s Jade. She never wants to be found, and I hardly think she’s about to try an Eat Pray Love type thing.”

“Eat Slash Steal, maybe?” Dick offers, dropping two ice cubes into a drink and setting it in front of her.

Artemis sips, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him at the same time. “Watch it, that’s still my family you’re talking about.”

“I’m sorry. How’s Will taking it?”

“As well as any dad trying to raise a two-year-old by himself would.”

“So, poorly.” Dick taps his finger against the table. “Are they coming here?”

Artemis looks at him blankly. “Why?”

“I figured they might want to be closer to you and your mom now that Jade’s gone. Gotham’s not so bad—you and I turned out fine. And Will probably needs to look into preschools and a babysitter for Lian soon. If you move in with me, you can bring her over whenever.”

The last piece of information slips in so casually she thinks she’s misheard. “What?”

“If you move in with me, you can bring Lian over whenever,” repeats Dick. “This place is as good as yours. You’re over here all the time anyway.”

Suddenly, she can’t breathe. “You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She can’t meet his eyes. “W—Will’s home is in Star City. He’s not going to move.”

Slowly, Dick says, “Okay. But my offer doesn’t really depend on Will.”

Her stuff is still in boxes. She’s still paying for a storage unit almost 3,000 miles away. And Dick is waiting on her so intently it makes her chest hurt.

Artemis stands up. “We’re not doing this.”

Dick’s eyebrows rise. Annoyance, or maybe anger, flickers across his face. “You wanna fill me in on what exactly it is we’re doing, according to you?”

“We’re not going to fight about this like we’re…” In a relationship. In love. In anything other than a messy configuration started by shared grief. She doesn’t say any of it out loud, but she doesn’t need to—Dick’s always been great at reading people, and he’s known all her tells from the start.

“Right.” The single syllable comes out as cold and pointed as an icicle. He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up. The clouds are rolling in, throwing shadows across his features. Even now, Artemis wants to kiss him, wants to be the one to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows away.

“Dick…”

“Do me a favor, will you?” Dick grabs his jacket from the hook by his door, shrugging it on. He pauses, briefly, in the doorway. “Lock my door on the way out.”

That night, she lies alone in her bedroom next to the picture of her, Wally, and Brucely. Brucely snuffles at the foot of her bed and then leaps onto the covers, and this time she doesn’t shoo him off. Neither does she fall asleep.

There was a song Jade had liked to sing, passed down from their mother: a Vietnamese lullaby about a yellow butterfly, to the tune of “Frère Jacques.” The butterfly flies all over the sky. Come and see. Come and see. When it became clear that Artemis’s hair would grow in blond, not black, Jade started pulling it, making her giggle. You’re the yellow butterfly, see?

The taxicab she calls for the airport is bright yellow in the morning light. Plain old civilian travel for plain old civilian business. You don’t need to be a superhero to fly across the country and move in with your brother-in-law and your niece. She’ll sing silly little songs and wash Lian’s hair, and they’ll be a family same as anyone else’s: clumsy, incomplete.

“Artemis.” Dick coalesces out of the fog. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a week, and she should be mad that he’s here because it probably means he’s been monitoring her web traffic and caught wind she’d bought plane tickets. Still, all she feels is relief.

Jade had laughed when Artemis had let slip what she was doing during one rare sisterly bonding moment. “Oh, darling sister, your thing with your little bird boy isn’t about moving on. You’re using him as a holding pattern. Try not to damage him too much, hm?” Rankled, Artemis had hung up the phone—what did Jade know about anything, besides shoving it under the rug and pretending it didn’t matter? Now, though, Artemis sees things more clearly. Jade did know something about bodies and what they could and couldn’t fix; after all, isn’t that why she ran?

She worries with the strap of her duffel bag, letting Dick approach.

“If this were a romcom, you would have waited until I got to the airport and then run through security.”

“If this were a romcom,” says Dick, stopping in front of her and shoving his hands in his pockets, “I’d be trying to make you stay.”

She thinks he might be the one person left on this planet who knows her best. She thinks they could save each other, if they’d let themselves try. But they each have work to do on their own, first.

Setting down her bag, she tucks her face into the crook of his neck and breathes him in. Wherever else she goes, this spot will always feel like forgiveness. Nose buried in her hair, Dick squeezes her back.

The taxi driver rolls down his window. “Is this guy coming with us or not?”

Artemis pulls back, and there’s so much sky in Dick’s eyes.

“You know where to find me,” she says.

| STAR CITY

| JULY 29, 2018; 7:30 AM PST

“Who are you here to recruit this time?” Will asks, leaning against the doorframe, but Artemis doesn’t need an answer, doesn’t need any details but the black hair she can see just over Will’s shoulder, Dick’s voice at the end of a line.

He jumps, and she jumps with him. They’ll figure out everything else as they go.

Before Dick can respond, she says: “I’m in.”

#young justice #artemis crock #dick grayson #traught #dick x artemis #my writing #fanfiction #ff: yj

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years ago

Text

Out of My League [Part 3]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: Nothing brings two friends together like a bit of grief with a side of daddy issues. (Mixed POV, includes flashbacks)

Warning(s): As the summary states, angst, grief and daddy issues, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of cancer, a few swear words, i think that’s it??? i use the word “smile” like 138407894 times i’m so sorry i hate noticing my crutch words

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry how long this took I honestly have no excuse, this chapter isn’t even that great but this is only two thirds of what I actually intended this part to be so GUESS WHAT I SPLIT IT UP!!!! the next part shouldn’t take too long (I say that but watch it’s gonna take like another year) and it’s gonna be super fluffy so DON’T Y’ALL WORRY IT’S GONNA BE FLUFF CENTRAL FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

WASHINGTON D.C., 2007

(Reader POV)

You had only been to D.C. a few times before to visit your dad, normally under happier circumstances, such as him getting sworn in for another term, but this time was not the case. You got the phone call from your mother the evening before when you quickly packed yours and Jamie’s bags for the flight that left later that night. The few hours you had spent in D.C. already felt like long days. You were physically and emotionally exhausted. Jamie had never been on a plane before and was grappling with the effects of jet lag.

You needed a bit of a pick-me-up yourself, so you ran over to a coffee shop for a bit of a change of scenery. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when you heard your name being called, but not by the barista making your drinks, but by a familiar voice that you had only heard over the phone for a couple of months since his last visit home. You turned around to face the source and locked eyes with Spencer.

“Hey!” You smiled, trying your best to not look like you had just had the longest 24 hours of your life.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say you were gonna be in town?”

“I didn’t know I was gonna be in town until last night!” Spencer could see right through you. He pursed his lips, not asking what was wrong yet, but still opting to check-in and make sure you’re okay.

“How are you feeling? Jet lagged?”

“Some profiler.” Your chuckle came out more annoyed than you would have liked it to.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just getting some coffee--”

“No, like, are you okay?” He knew something was wrong, he wasn’t stupid, quite the opposite, by a long shot.

“I’m fine, Spence,” you lied through your teeth.

“Then who isn’t?” Panic and worry flashed across his face, “Is Jamie okay?

“Yes! He’s fine!” You couldn’t help but smile at the relief Spencer displayed that your son was safe and well, his hand coming up to rest over his heart. You hesitated for a second before giving in and telling him why you seemed so off, “My dad’s sick in the hospital.”

“Oh! Do they know what’s wrong with him?”

“Yep. Stage 4 lung cancer.” Your dad had been a smoker for most of your life. He tried to quit after Jamie was born, but the damage had already been done.

Spencer looked genuinely heartbroken as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what to say next “Do you know how much time he has?”

“Couple of weeks if we’re lucky.”

His eyebrow furrowed and his golden eyes softened to an impossible degree, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This wasn’t sudden, we’ve been expecting it, but when the doctor says eight to twelve months, and you get through month eight, you start hoping it’s gonna be twelve.”

“Are you going back to the hospital now?”

“Yeah-”

“I’ll come with you!”

“Don’t you have work?”

“I don’t have to be there for another hour and,” he checks his watch, which was pulled over the sleeve of his dark gray cardigan, “fifty-six minutes.”

“The hospital’s out of the way and you hate being late.”

“I hate the thought of you going through this alone even more.” You tried to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling that gave you but ultimately failed. Those big brown eyes refused to stop studying your face, analyzing any signs that you needed him, which to be fair, you did.

“I’m not alone, I got Jamie and my mom.”

“Even more the reason for me to want to go with you.” He finally dropped the solemn frown and took up a bright smile instead. You swore his grin was contagious because, by the time you both got your coffees, you were smiling just as wide.

You drove back to the hospital in comfortable silence. Walking back to your father’s room felt easier with him by your side. Jamie looked up from his drawing as he saw you approach, beaming at you and his favorite federal agent.

“Doctor Spencer!” He came running up to him and hugging his legs.

“Hey, little man!” Spencer ruffled his hair and grinned down at the tiny human squeezing his arms around his thigh.

Your mother looked up from her book, “Doctor? Spencer? Wait. As in…”

“Yeah, mom.”

She stands and wraps him in a hug, “Oh my goodness, sweetheart, you got so big! You’re all grown up! Oh, and you’re cute, too!” She pinched his now pink cheek as his face twisted into a bashful smile, “Right, Y/N? Spencer got cute!”

Now you were blushing a little.

Why am I blushing? I don’t blush over Spencer!

You pursed your lips and looked him up and down. His striped tie was crooked under his cardigan. His long hair was a bit shaggy, as if he rolled out of bed, showered, and decided to go to work. You just laughed nervously as you met Spencer’s eyes. God, those eyes. “Yeah… I’d say so.”

“You definitely grew into your looks. Honey, this is Spencer. Remember the boy that used to tutor Y/N?”

“Oh, nice to finally meet you, son, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Your father shifted in his bed, managing to sit up slightly.

“You too, sir, I just wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

“Don’t give me any of that ‘sir’ crap, I got enough of that working on the Hill,” your father chuckled but his hearty laugh quickly devolved into a coughing fit. Your mother sat back down on the bed next to him and fed him some ice chips to keep him hydrated.

“So, Spencer, Y/N says you work for the FBI now?” She turns her attention away from her husband and forces a smile.

“Yes! I do.”

You took a seat and sipped your coffee, “He was on the team that helped save Jamie, remember?”

“What division are you in?” Your dad asked.

“The Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“I got some buddies in the bureau, who’s your supervisor?”

“Aaron Hotchner?”

“Oh, I knew him in his prosecutor days. Helluva lawyer, he got some of my clients put away.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, they were guilty, weren’t they?”

Spencer’s phone rang in his pocket, “Speaking of which, I have to go. Got a case.”

“Go! Don’t be late!”

“Go catch the bad guy, Doctor Spencer!”

“Will do, Jamie.” He ruffled his hair before turning to your parents, “Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. L/N, it was great seeing you.”

“Bye, sweetheart, don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll walk you out, return the favor.” You walked quietly with him.

“Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be home from this, but I’ll let you know when I get back, and if you’re still here just give me a call, okay?”

“Of course, Spence. Now go catch the bad guy!” You grinned as you parroted your son’s words. He returned your smile and pulled you into a hug. You could feel tears brimming in your eyes, but you fought it off best you could. Spencer could still sense your pain and hugged you as tight as possible. You were the one to pull away first, patting his back and forcing your pursed lips into a smile. His phone started to ring shortly after.

“Don’t let me keep you.”

(Spencer’s POV)

The case went on for too long. Two whole weeks passed before we were able to come home from Minneapolis. A man was strangling women with short black hair between the ages 30-40 because they reminded him of his mother, it’s standard stuff, it should have been a pretty cut and dry case, but the guy was almost impossible to find, he was completely off the grid. It took Garcia days to just get us a name, let alone contact information. He killed two other women while we were there. One of them was a mother, she had three kids all under the age of 10. Cases like these were always tough, but Gideon had seen enough to talk us all through it. I still wasn’t used to him being gone.

I couldn’t get any sleep on the jet. The nightmares have been coming back with a vengeance since Gideon left. He was like a father to me, my protector, my mentor, and now I have no one.

That’s hyperbolic; I do have the team, and they miss him too, but I’m pretty much alone out on the field. I know I can go to them, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t like to rely on others because when they leave, I’m by myself.

Which is exactly why I am the only one awake on the jet home.

I suppose I wasn’t totally alone, I could call Y/N, but I wouldn’t wanna bother her if she was with her family. She only has so much time left with her dad. I took my phone out of my pocket anyway and saw a missed call from her last night, I hadn’t seen it before because of the case. If she wanted to talk she probably needed to, right?

I mulled it over in my head, and before I could even come to a decision, my fingers worked on autopilot, dialing the same number I had memorized years ago, and hit call.

Las Vegas, 1994

I picked up the book from the top of the pile she set down on the counter, “You’re reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Yeah, for class.”

“If you need any help with that, my mother was a classics professor, I’ve read most of Shakespeare’s works.”

“Really? That’s cool. I’ve read the basics in other classes, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth, all that, but this one is definitely my favorite so far.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I don’t know why, but the idea of falling in love with the wrong person just sorta… I dunno… resonates, I guess.”

“Yeah, same here.”

She snorted, “You’re like 12, how would you know about that?”

I bit my lip before explaining, “Reminds me of my parents. They loved each other at one point, obviously, but not enough to stop my dad from leaving us.”

She cringed to herself as if she realized some horrible mistake, “Jeez, I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago did he leave?”

“Two years ago.”

“So it’s just been you and your mom?”

“Yeah.”

She stared at the pencil as she twisted it in between her fingers. Her eyes refused to meet mine. “My dad has worked in D.C. pretty much my whole life, and a lot of the time it was just my mom and me. He was always home for Christmas and birthdays, he came to all my recitals as a kid, but he was gone the rest of the year. I see him maybe… fifteen days out of the year?”

She finally looked up, if only for a second. Seeing her eyes, at last, I took note of the sadness behind them, “Which is fine, it’s better than nothing, but I don’t really have a dad the other 350 days of the year, you know? I could call him, but I don’t, it’s always ‘Sorry sweetheart, I’m a bit busy right now.’”

“Yeah, my dad was always too busy too.”

“I know our situations are still really different, and you probably already know this after two years, but it does get easier.”

Present Day

(Reader POV)

You click the button to answer the call, “Spencer?”

“Hey! We’re landing soon, you still in D.C.?” His voice is scratchy like he had just woken up, or like he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a couple of hours.

“Y-yeah! I’m still staying with my mom.”

“How’s your dad?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to, your silence answered his question well enough.

“Oh, shit…” Spencer groaned, “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago?”

“Last week, the funeral was yesterday.” You could hear him grimace over the phone.

“Y/N I am… so sorry I couldn’t be there for you—”

“Don’t be! You had to work, it’s okay, Spencer.”

“I should have called sooner.”

You almost laughed at his tone, “Spencer, you were catching a serial killer, it’s not your responsibility to make sure I’m okay.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. I’m fine.”

“How’s Jamie, god, how’s your mother?”

“She’s holding up. I’m helping her out for a while, I don’t want her to be in this house alone.” You decided to leave out the part about you putting a downpayment on an apartment a couple of blocks away from your mother’s house for now.

“How’s Jamie doing?” He asked with perfect timing as Jamie flopped onto the couch behind you.

“Wanna talk to him? He’s right here.”

“Can I? Please?”

“Jamie, baby, wanna talk to Doctor Spencer?” He didn’t even say yes before he leaped up from his seat and grabbed the phone from your hand.

“Hi, Doc!”

“Hey, little man! How’s it going? How are you?” You could still hear his excited voice even though it was nowhere near your ear anymore. It brought a smile to your face as you saw Jamie light up at the sound of your friend on the other side of the call.

“I’m okay. Did you catch the bad guy?”

“Yes, Jamie, we got him. How’s your mom?”

“She’s saying she’s fine, but she’s still really sad.”

“Well, can you put her back on with me?” Jamie hands the phone back to you and runs off to return to his coloring book and crayons.

You sighed before putting the phone back to your ear, “Don’t worry about me, Spence—”

“Come to the BAU.”

He said the words so fast you almost needed him to repeat it, “What?”

“I mean it, I’ll call you when we land, come visit. Bring Jamie and your mom.”

“Won’t you have a ton of work to do when you land?”

“I couldn’t sleep, I did all my paperwork on the jet.”

“Spencer—”

“Please. I need to see you guys.” He was practically begging. It tugged at your heart in a familiar way, but there was a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t place.

“What happened on the case?”

He sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Just come in like, an hour.”

You tried to lighten the mood just a little bit, “My mom’s been obsessively baking, want us to bring you your favorite?”

“Did she make her famous oatmeal cookies?” You could almost see his face and the way his brown eyes lit up, even while he was on a plane hours away.

The image brought a soft smile to your face and sparked a tiny bit of light in your heart, “Yep!”

“Y/N L/N, if you bring me some, I will be forever indebted to you.”

“You owe me nothing, Doctor Reid.”

Security waved you through to the elevator, Spencer had cleared you for entry already. One guard hit the button for the sixth floor and sent you up, one hand holding Jamie’s and the other holding a Tupperware of your mom’s cookies. When the doors opened, you saw the entrance to the bullpen, desks filled with paperwork, and busy agents trying to get it all done. As the three of you crept through the hall to the glass doors, your eyes locked onto Spencer, who was sprawled out in his office chair with a thick book, legs propped up on his desk, and glasses balanced on the ridge of his nose.

“Hi! Who are you here to see?” A chipper blonde with purple cat eyeglasses and curly ponytails waved at you from down the hall.

“Spencer Reid?”

“Oh! He mentioned he’d have visitors, you must be Y/N! I’m Penelope.”

“That’s a pretty name!” Jamie beamed up to the woman, who clutched a hand over her heart and returned his smile.

“Oh! Thank you, sweetheart! What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Jamie!”

“Oh you are just precious, he is precious, Y/N, good kid.”

You laughed at the pair’s enthusiasm, “Thank you, can we just go straight in?”

“Yep! Go ahead!”

You walked up to his desk and placed the cookies next to his computer, pulling his attention away from his book. He turned to look up at you, closing the book and throwing it where his feet rested before he jumped up to wrap his arms around you. Jamie hugged his leg and your mother pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, how are you guys doing?”

“Spencer, we’re fine.”

He didn’t say anything, just examined your face for any sign of a lie. The frustration on his face said he didn’t find one.

“Stop profiling me, I’m okay.”

“Mommy, can I have a cookie now?” Jamie eyed the container like a hawk; he shared Spencer’s love of oatmeal cookies, especially from your mom.

“Right! You brought your cookies, thank you so much, Mrs. L/N.”

“You’re not a kid anymore, honey, you can call me by my first name.”

“No, I absolutely cannot,” he laughed.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and saw the woman who hugged you while you cried when you thought your son was gone: JJ.

“Hi! Good to see you again!” You brought her in for a hug while Spencer continued to catch up with Jamie and your mom.

“You too! Jamie got so big!”

“Yeah, he’s starting 3rd grade soon!” You reached around to ruffle Jamie’s hair.

“When does he start?”

“A few weeks! We gotta go back to school shopping!”

“Ooh, that’s exciting! So you’re heading home soon?”

“Um…” You glanced at Spencer and your mom, who was pestering him about whether or not he had a girlfriend, “Actually, I just thought it would be best for us to stay close to my mom. Jamie likes it here, so we’re actually going to be moving here before school starts.”

“A new school! Are you excited, Jamie?”

“Yeah!”

Spencer, still a blushing mess thanks to your mother’s nosiness, sputtered out “Uh… Excited for what?”

“To move to D.C.!” You raised your hands in a little “Surprise!” motion.

“W-what?” He couldn’t stop himself from looking delighted even if he tried.

“We’re moving here to stay close to my mom.”

“She’s been such a good help,” she gestured to the cookies, half gone over the course of the conversation, “I’m not really ready to give her up just yet.”

“Spence, you should show her around!” JJ’s face had an unreadable look, but I guess that’s what profilers are for “Take her sightseeing. Jamie, have you been to the Washington Monument yet?”

“Nope! Doctor Spencer, can you take us?”

“Sure, little man, you want your mom and grandma to come with?”

“Yes!”

Spencer grinned at him, ruffling his curls before smiling at you. His eyes were scrunched into thin lines from his cheeks, but there was still something behind them. Something you couldn’t quite read. His smile softened slightly and you finally got a clear view of his hazel eyes. His lips parted like he was about to say something, but Jamie cut him off again.

“Ooh! Ooh! Can we go to the Smithsonian?”

“Oh, honey, you’re gonna wish you didn’t say that,” JJ joked.

“The kid knows everything, you’ll be there for hours,” a deep voice said behind you.

“Morgan!” You smiled and stretched your arms out to hug him.

“Good to see you again, Y/N.”

When you turned back to Spencer, his warm grin was gone, replaced by a glare directed at Morgan. Had something happened with them? Last you heard they were best friends. Maybe that’s what happened on the case? Maybe that’s why he was so upset on the phone? Whatever it was had to be bad because he barely spoke for the rest of the visit.

A few weeks later, after you were all moved into your new apartment and Jamie was settled into his new school, you called Spencer. He owed you a trip to the Washington Monument. On your little day trip, there was no such thing as silence. Even in the quiet museum, Spencer’s voice filled the air, spewing facts about the monument, the memorial, the exhibits, and everything in between. Jamie loved to learn, so he hung onto every word that he heard.

“Plans for the monument’s development actually started in 1783, before Washington was even elected president. D.C. wasn’t even the capital of the country yet. Washington was actually against the monument because he didn’t want to use public funds for it, but after his death, Congress wanted to build him a mausoleum--”

You didn’t mind the rants. You still loved to listen to him ramble. Even if you didn’t understand what he was talking about sometimes, the sound of his voice was just soothing, especially after the stress of moving across the country.

Jamie got tired after walking around all day after the tour of the National Museum of Natural History and the Washington Monument, so your mom offered to take him home. You planted a kiss to his forehead and ruffled his hair, hugging your mom goodbye as Spencer high fived him and waved as they went off in the direction of home.

“You know, you didn’t have to stay with me. If you wanna go home too, you can.”

“No. I wanna stay with you.”

A small smile crept across his lips, blush rising to his cheeks. He bit his lips and looked down at his feet as he started walking off to the next stop on his little tour.

“Where to now, Doc?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, tell me, tell me!”

“No, ‘cuz then it’s not a surprise!”

“I’m aware of the definition of surprise, you don’t need to have an eidetic memory to know that.” You would just have to rely on your less refined profiling skills to figure out where you were going. You were on foot, so it couldn’t be too far.

“Why aren’t we taking a cab?”

“Because I wanna walk with you.”

Just hail a cab, it takes way less time than--

Oh.

You walked side by side for the remainder of the distance. He did most of the talking, telling you stories about the team. You took notice of the softness in his voice when he talked about Morgan. He wasn’t bitter anymore.

“--And then Garcia answered the phone.”

“Oh, god, what’d she say?”

“‘Talk dirty to me.’”

“No!”

“Yep!”

“She said that to your boss.”

“Morgan was mortified, you should have seen his face.”

You looked at him while he grinned at the memory. It was the most at peace you’d seen him in… well, a while.

“So… you guys are cool now?”

The peace was replaced with confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your pace faltered, but you kept walking, “Didn’t you guys…? Weren’t you fighting?”

“No? Why would you think that?”

You pursed your lips and furrowed your brows, “No reason.”

Why else would he have been mad at Morgan when I went to visit? You thought, There’s no other reason! Unless…

Oh--

“We’re here!” Spencer stopped in his tracks, looking up at a large white structure with tall windows and stone carvings decorating the walls. You turned and saw the sign out front that read: “Folger Shakespeare Library.”

“Spencer…” You gaped at the sign, a small, awe-filled smile tugging at your lips.

“I remembered how much you loved Shakespeare in school, I thought you’d get a kick out of this.”

“Spencer, this is… This is wonderful!”

“Good surprise?”

“Great surprise!”

You grabbed him by the arm and tugged him up the front steps as he digs through his pockets for his wallet. Once inside, he bought two tickets for the next show: Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your favorite. It didn’t start for another half hour, so he led you to the reading room.

The room was beautiful, to put it lightly. Three ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The furniture and accents were all done in a dark wood, shelves packed tightly with books. The setting sun shone through the breathtaking stained glass windows. An unlit fireplace rested against the wall. Spencer led you up to the second level, a balcony wrapping around the border of the room.

“Thank you for today,” you beamed, “I haven’t seen Jamie that happy since…”

“I know the feeling. I haven’t felt this okay since…” His gaze dropped to his feet, trying to swallow the words that came out too soon.

“Since what?”

“Since uh...” He glanced back up to your face, “Since Gideon left the team.”

Spencer never told you he left. Agent Gideon kept tabs on Jamie after his rescue. For the last three years, he got a card in the mail on Christmas and his birthday. He always checked in and asked how he was doing. When you went to visit Spencer at the BAU a few weeks ago, you wanted to say hi to Agent Gideon and thank him for his consideration, but you hadn’t seen him. You thought he was just taking a personal day, he worked too hard anyways from what Spencer told you.

“Spence, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

The words were like a spark that shocked your heart awake from a lovely sleep, and now it was upset to be so rudely awoken, “Of course I care! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t wanna know the reason you’ve been so… off.”

“What do you mean ‘off?’”

“You don’t have to be a profiler to see you haven’t been yourself in… when did Gideon leave?”

He played with a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater and looked back down at his feet, the toe of his converse nudging at the emerald green carpet, “Couple of months ago.”

“You could have told me.”

“You’ve had your own stuff going on. It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t have to convince yourself that you aren’t having a hard time just because I am. You don’t always have to be the hero.”

“Neither do you, you know.”

“I really am fine.”

“Y/N, he was your dad, you’re allowed to be upset.”

“I am, okay?” You snapped, “I miss him like hell! He was always just one phone call away and now…” One hand carded through your hair as you inhaled deeply, placing your other hand on the banister beside you to steady yourself.

“I’m not going to pretend that our situations are the same because they aren’t, but I’ll tell you the same thing you told me when we were kids.” He placed his hand close to yours on the banister, your fingers almost touching. Almost. “It gets easier, not seeing him every day. But just ‘cuz he wasn’t around doesn’t mean you can’t feel bad.”

You force a smile, “Thanks, Spence.”

“Of course.” He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. The hug wasn’t particularly emotional. Neither one of you felt like you were about to cry, it just felt nice to be in each other's embrace.

“Show’s starting soon.” He muttered into your ear before pulling away, walking off towards the theater with you following close behind.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

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fweasleyswhore · 4 years ago

Text

F.W. Who We Are

Chapter Two: Your Least Favorite Color

Chapter One

a/n chapter two my lovlies!! i rlly wanted to pump this out p fast bc ive been having so much fun with it and i hope you are too!

summary: fred and george tell you their plan for their prank. fluff with a pinch of angst.

word count: 3k

warnings: some touching??? uncomfy situation??

tags: @you-make-children-cry @levylovegood @bohemianspacebabe

comment a request to be added to my taglist !

“Snape’s least favorite color?” I laughed out. “I think you mean, like, any color. I mean has he ever worn anything that isn’t black?”

I was now seated in a small semblance of a circle on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George in front of me. It was most definitely past curfew but because tomorrow was Saturday I really didn’t care, the time was the last thing on my mind. The most present thought I had was how the hell Fred and George were going to change the color of all the cauldrons in Snape's room and get away with it.

“Well, now that you bring it up, I do believe I saw him in robes that looked rather navy instead of black.” George pondered, looking up to the ceiling and tapping his chin as if he was deep in thought.

“Oh bug off!” I laughed and smacked him on the arm. He looked at his arm with wide eyes, his smile gone. Before I could ask if I was too forceful he was pretending to cry, a little too loud than he should’ve considering it was well past 12 and I am technically trespassing. None of us cared though or even thought to care as we watched George grasp onto his brother’s arms like it was the last thing he would ever do.

“I-I don’t want to die Freddie.” He whispered. His grip tightened onto his brother as he spoke again. “Freddie, I…” He then let out a loud, fake sob. “There’s so much I haven’t done.” He dropped his head and shook it. I rolled my eyes, how long was he going to keep this up?

Fred brought his hands up to cradle his brother’s head. “It’s ok George, you can let go, it’s ok.” He looked into his brother’s eyes tearfully, “I’ll help you…”

Before George could react Fred lifted one of his hands and swiftly flicked him on the forehead. George let out a loud groan and spasmed a bit in Fred’s arms, I watched with narrowed eyes as he seized up and shook.

“You look more like a fish out of water than a dying man,” I said smugly. George rose up and fixed his hair. He looked over to me with a glare and his tongue out. I laughed fully, the situation and everything, as well as some sleep deprivation, catching up on me. I threw my head back, clutched my stomach, and rolled around for what felt like hours. Once I had started I couldn’t stop.

“I didn’t think it was that funny,” George whispered to Fred. “Maybe we have finally broken her?”

“Maybe…” Was all Fred was able to say back, too caught up with the beautiful girl in front of her to even fully process George's words.

Finally calming down due to the sharp pain building up in my stomach from laughing so hard, I painfully pushed myself to sit up straight. Leaning on the couch behind me I tried to catch my breath while gripping my stomach. I could feel my face was flushed, my hair was a mess but I couldn’t care. Although the pain that coursed through my body, I was still smiling, looking at the two boys in front of me. Focusing on George I saw that he looked at me with a look of disbelief and amusement, rolling my eyes at him I focussed on Fred ready to be met with the same expression.

What I was met with nearly made me roll over again.

The way he looked at me made the rest of the world evaporate. I lost my breath. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t amused or disbelieving like George, he smiled at me with pure content, like watching me writhing around on the floor was the best use of his time. His eyes flickered with something, his usual gleam of mischief no longer evident but what was currently being held I couldn’t decipher. My whole face flushed even more if that was possible, I was praying in my head he didn’t notice it. I diverted my eyes from his gaze, trying to hide my red face as I adjusted into the position I held before I broke out in laughter.

“Maybe red?” I tried to steer the conversation back to its previous topic, my voice quivered, making me cringe and I hope that the boys didn’t notice or just wrote it off.

“If we make them red he will know a Gryffindor did it, that’s the equivalent of a murderer leaving a ransom note with his name on it.” George retorted. I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything. Bringing my gaze up to meet theirs I looked between them, they were both staring at the floor, obviously lost in thought. I brought my gaze to the fire behind them. I pulled my lip in between my teeth trying to focus on a specific color that would make the blood drain from Snape’s face.

Snape was the head of the Slytherin house, and though that relation, I absolutely despised him. He was terribly rude to Gryffindors for no bloody reason, being that my friends mostly consisted of Gryffindors, he was terribly rude to me as well. He never took points away from me specifically, knowing it would reflect badly on him, but he took the absolute piss out of any Gryffindor around, often even subjected me to long detentions for minor offenses. I have to watch my step around him, even my breathing could set him off, send a nasty glare, or even grade my way. Being a Slytherin though, there was not much I could do about it except accept it, and that made my blood boil under the surface.

“Perhaps,” I started, my gaze was still trained on the dancing fire behind the boy. “Hot pink would suffice?”

Lifting my gaze from the fire I glanced between the two.

“Wicked.” They said in unison. They had these stupid grins on their faces that made me giggle.

The rest of the night was spent actually completing the plan, or trying to and getting distracted. The day before we leave for Christmas break we would sneak into his room, Fred and George would hide in the back of the room while I waited for Snape to arrive. I would ask him to help me find a book in the library about potion making because “I had really been struggling this past year in his class”. Total lie, I knew what I was doing Snape just hated to give me the grade I deserved.

Considering Mrs. Pince was on maternity leave he would have no option but to say yes. The boys would hex the cauldrons then run back to the Gryffindor common room where Harry and Ron were ready to provide an alibi. It flowed well, the potions section of the library was in the back and far up, Ron and Harry were more than happy to take the piss out of Snape, and Snape knew that because I was in his house I would never do anything directly against him for fear of being expelled.

Although I knew there would be no evidence for Snape to use against me I was still quite nervous but the thought of the shit eating grins it would provide the twins gave me enough courage to agree. They always made me happy, it was only fair I do the same for them.

Once it was mildly solidified in our brains we let the conversation drift, topics from quidditch to the worst animal to transfigure as filled up what should’ve been a quite common room at that hour, and never once did I feel bored.

The feeling of someone shaking my shoulders brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes to a rather bright and blurry mess of red around me, quickly shutting them again I groaned, swatting at my attacker. My lazy attempts fell short never actually hitting anyone.

“That was lame.” Hermione laughed.

I opened one eye to glare at her. “Considering I was blind I think they were ferocious.” I shot back.

She laughed again. “Well I don’t know how late you stayed up, but it’s quarter to 9. Breakfast ends at 10.”

“I have so much time, why must you hurt me ‘Mione?” I huffed running a hand down my face.

“Because Saturday is blueberry pancake day!” She said half singing. “Also I figured you would want to shower and get ready before we go to Hogsmede.” I groaned again but I knew she was right. I threw my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes before opening them, this time the brightness nor the redness of the room affected me.

“What would I do without you?” I asked sitting up. Now in a seated position I could see my surroundings. I was laying longways on the couch, a robe sprawled over me like a makeshift blanket. Hermione stood behind me, her hands rested on the armrest that my head was just against.

“Probably dead, due to these two.” I couldn’t see her but I knew she was talking about the twins. I turned my head around and smiled at her.

Squinting around the common room I could see George curled up in a loveseat by the fireplace, he sat sideways, his head against the back of the chair while his arms hugged one of his legs tightly to his chest, his other leg was thrown over the armrest. I giggled at the sight of him in such an unnatural position, it could not be comfortable with his long limbs. I searched the room for Fred. He wasn't in the other seats by the fireplace or the other couch pushed against the wall.

My heart plunged into my stomach at the thought that he went up to his dorm, I wasn’t completely sure why it hurt me so much. It made sense for him to have left, but part of me just felt pained at the fact that George stayed and not him. Of course I liked George but not in the way I liked Fred. George was like a brother to me, he was a best friend. Fred was something more than that, not that he knew, I would never admit it to him much less our friends, but that didn’t stop the longing I felt for him, hoping that he felt the same way too.

Finally I found him and all the doubts I had before were void upon seeing him. He laid on his stomach on the floor next to the couch. One arm under the pillow supporting his head that was facing me and the other thrown across the floor. He didn’t have a blanket on him and his robe wasn’t in sight. His hair was slightly brushed in his face and I had to refrain from leaning down and brushing it out of his eyes. I let out a small laugh realizing he was using the pillow that I threw at George the night before.

Turning around again to Hermione I spoke again. “You’re completely right.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before exiting the common room muttering something about the work she needed to do that day.

I stretched and readjusted, pulling my legs to my chest while figuring the best way to get up without disturbing Fred. I balled up the robe that was laid across me, still trying to figure out how to navigate my way out of the common room.

There was a small space near his arm on the floor, taking it as my best shot to then jump around him. I carefully placed my foot down, making sure not to step on him. Shifting my weight onto that foot I began to move my other leg to go around his back.

Slowly crouching to get some momentum I jumped, but before my foot could even leave the ground a strong arm grabbed my ankle. Taken by surprise I let out a small shriek before falling onto the couch and then sliding onto the floor.

I was met with Fred, smirking at me with half lidded eyes.

“Trying to sneak off with my robe are you?” He said smugly. His voice was deeper and raspier than it usually was and had an immediate effect on my body, my legs weakened and my face burned. I was thanking Merlin I was already sitting and flushed from the fall.

“What are you on about Weasley.” I whisper-yell at him.

He released my ankle, something I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding until I felt uncharacteristically cold where his touch had been only moments ago. He used his now free hand to point at the balled up robes in my arms.

“You did not just make me fall on my arse only to accuse me of stealing my robes!” I whisper yelled again, although a tad louder than last time.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your robes? I wasn’t aware we had joint custody over my clothing Y/L/N, but since you want them so bad I suppose you can keep them, red looks good on you by the way.” He shot me a wink at the end of his remark. His confidence and cockiness just upset me further. Although he was unnervingly annoying I couldn’t help the grin that split onto my face at his own stupidity.

I rolled my eyes and unbunched the robes to show him the green that adorned them, but once they were unrolled I saw the red fabric. My eyes shot wide open, I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“But…” I couldn’t even form a whole sentence, this didn’t make sense. “You hexxed my robes!” I shot at him. It was the only logical conclusion I had come up to that he had planned this.

The laugh he was holding back erupted from his mouth. His morning voice made it much deeper than his actual laugh. The rings of his laughter normally made my body hot but this was a whole new level.

He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand up to my collar and tugged. Looking down I saw that I was still wearing my robes. Never took them off.

I groaned and threw my face into my hands which only made him laugh harder. He peeled my hands away from my face and held them in his much larger ones. “I would never hex your clothes,” I could feel my face heat up at his words, the genuine tone and the lower octave of his voice sent shockwaves through my whole system. “At least not red, I’d make them purple!” He stuck his tongue out at me and I playfully swatted his shoulder. He knew that was my least favorite color.

I stood up and threw his robes at his face. “See you in the Great Hall.” And with that I grabbed my shoes and walked out as quickly as possible. I could hear him still laughing as I got to the portrait hole but kept going trying to calm down and get the flush off my face, both from our proximity and embarrassment.

I had thrown on my favorite muggle outfit. Going to Hogsmede was a tradition but the excitement was still there which qualified for a little dressing up. It wasn’t anything special, just plain light wash jeans, a white turtleneck and an oversized orange button up I managed to steal from the twins. All pulled together with a little accessorizing I thought I looked rather good.

Walking out of my dorm and into the Slytherin common room there was an evident pep in my step. I was happy but a fool wouldn’t be. Stepping towards the exit of the common room someone just had to ruin my fun.

“Not going out with the Weasels again are you Y/L/N?” Draco drawls. Turning I see him snickering with Crabbe and Goyle before standing and waltzing up to me, arrogant as ever.

“What is it to you Malfoy?” I spit at him. I was not going to let him ruin today.

“Well you got so pretty today, Weasleys do not know how to appreciate such expensive things, they can’t afford them, how would they know how to? You deserve someone who knows how and can express their appreciation in equally expensive ways.” He laughed out. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek. His touch made me cringe, his hands were cold and his demeanor was uninviting. Everything about him made me recoil.

I grabbed his wrist and threw his hand down. “I hope you don’t mean someone like yourself Malfoy. I’m not sure how you even know how to use a hand like that, it looks as though it hasn’t done a day of work in its life. Is that something you are really proud of?” I threw my words at him like daggers. Steam rolling off of me. I could see him change under my glare, his confidence shrank and his anger grew, his relaxed expression was soon replaced by his snarl he adorned everywhere Harry was near, his back stiffened and his fists balled up.

“Never, touch me again Malfoy.” I turned on my heel and stormed out. Before reaching the exit I thought of something though.

“Future advice,” I turned again so I was facing him. He hadn’t moved and still looked at me venomously as before. He lifted an eyebrow at my comment, urging me to go on. “Money can’t buy consent.”

His face darkened and I had to turn quickly to stop myself from all out laughing at him. I’m sure that if I stayed I could have watched him have his temper tantrum but frankly I wasn’t interested. My interest laid with the redhead waiting for me at the doors of the Great Hall. The same one who smiled at me as I walked up to him and poured my juice for me when we sat down. Fred Weasley had me totally, inconceivably, and utterly smitten, and I was completely ok with it. The harder I fell the sweeter it would feel when he caught me.

Or I hoped.

#fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #weasleys wizard wheezes #george weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #the weasly twins #fred weasley fluff #fred wealsey fic #harry potter characters #harry potter fanfiction

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

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A Simple Choice

Written by: @justajjfan

Beta’d by: @sunsetsrmydreams

Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].

Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: Mature

Warning: Mention of whipping

A/N: My thanks to @everlarkficexchange ; @javistg and @xerxia31 for allowing me to go way over the deadline. It was a real struggle but I’m so excited I finally have something post-worthy. My apologies to the 2 anons who have been so patiently waiting for their prompts to be turned into stories. I hope you like what I’ve written. A special thank you to @sunsetsrmydreams. This story would be nothing without you.

~~~

Chapter 1

“Trust me.”

I did. I trusted Katniss with my life, and so it seemed at the time…with my impending death.

After everything we both went through to survive, enduring the pain and horrors only The Hunger Games could bring, it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

The Capitolites craved this abhorrent form of entertainment and under the watchful and devious eye of President Coriolanus Snow, thrilled at the sight of children kill and be killed.

As it was in previous games, once the first wave of bloodshed was spilled, tributes from Districts 1 and 2 formed packs like wolves and hunted down the weak and vulnerable one by one before turning on themselves until only one was left standing.

The Victor.

All this savagery was broadcasted live each year across Panem in all its goriest detail and deemed mandatory viewing for every citizen.

Through it all, Katniss and I beat the odds and fought our way out of the gruesome web the Gamemakers spun to be the last two remaining tributes from the same district. But I should have known better…should have never allowed myself to be duped into believing the odds would at last be in our favour.

All our valiant efforts to stay alive was thrown in our weary and battle-scared faces.

President Snow had no intention of honouring the change in rules by allowing both of us to live and for the first time in The Hunger Games infamous history, have two tributes jointly crowned as Victors. So when the words bellowed in the air announcing the revocation of those rules, it came as little surprise to me.

The promise of a peaceful life and all the wealth any citizen could ever want held no sway over me. Already knowing the odds would never be in my favour, I accepted my fate.

For as long as I could remember, it had always been a fanciful dream of mine to live a life with Katniss, if she would allow it. Dreaming of our toasting and the vows I would say to her as I broke a piece of bread I baked myself and brought it to her sweet mouth. The feel of her soft body as we made love for the first time, even as far as raising a family of our own someday was a stupid pipedream, and I foolishly clung onto it all. Any hope of it becoming a reality was ripped from my grasp and shattered into a million pieces.

The choice was a simple one. When we were reaped, I vowed to do everything I could to protect Katniss even if it meant sacrificing my own life so she could live. I had no chance of winning and besides…no one needed me back home. But it became apparent Katniss had other ideas.

“Together?”

The sound of her voice echoing my question came as a soft whisper and in that moment we understood each other. If we couldn’t leave the arena together, then we would die…together.

In the face of death itself, that one singular word gave me a strange sense of calm and peace.

“One.”

Starting off the count knowing how little time I had left in this cruel and merciless world, the chance to tell Katniss what I’ve always felt in my heart was before me…and quickly ticking by.

“Two.”

I inhaled a deep breath sure the words would flow but instead my voice fell silent. Time was clearly against me but how many words would I need to express what Katniss meant to me?

In the precious dying second, my hand as if possessed with a will of its own, reached for her braid. This was something I had always longed to do and if I couldn’t say those words to Katniss, then I hoped she would feel them through this one innocent touch.

I would have given anything to sketch those steel grey eyes staring back at me. A chance to kiss her deeply and unravel her braid as I gently combed my fingers through the silky dark tresses the way I hoped she would like. Just one last chance to watch over her as she slept soundly in my arms and whisper the words she should have heard me say years ago.

But this was the cruel reality I was faced with and the closest thing I would ever get to realising any part of my dream. And I made sure not to let that final moment between us slip by.

“Three.”

I focused on the only image I would take with me into the darkness…her eyes.

Slowly, we brought the handful of poison berries to our lips, ready to end this before the Gamemakers took the choice away from us when the deafening sound of Claudius Templesmith’s desperate shout rang out from the hidden audio speakers, freezing us both from any further movement.

“STOP! STOP! STOP”

…and so we did.

***

All that seems like a lifetime ago instead of weeks. The Hunger Games, The Victory Tour and everything in between changed after the cameras finally stopped rolling and we boarded the train for home. And as we sped closer to District 12, Katniss began to withdraw from me and eventually shut me out completely and it confused me.

What did I do to make her feel so indifferent towards me?

Those lonely nights on the train were the hardest to deal with. Sleeping without Katniss beside me was a new torture all on its own but it was what she wanted. I guess in the end, conscience got the better of her and I was finally put out of my misery with the hurtful truth.

It was an act…a show that Katniss and our mentor Haymitch Abernathy devised to fool the Capitol into believing we were star-crossed lovers desperate to be together even in death, only it was me who was completely fooled.

But their plan worked, and it kept us both alive. The cave…the embraces…the whispered words…all those kisses were just part of the act and she wanted to forget them all…but I didn’t.

When we finally arrived home, the citizens of Twelve were all at the train station to welcome us home. To my astonishment, they were cheering us both as heroes. Perhaps they too, were acting in front of the cameras. But as soon as the scripted speeches were done and the crowd slowly dispersed taking Katniss and her family along with it, the finality of it all hit home.

I was alone.

***

Living in the Victor’s Village was a new start. But even in our proximity, Katniss avoided having any sort of contact with me. I tried my best not to let it affect me, but the hurt I felt inside festered like an open wound.

I missed her so much.

At first, I blamed myself for Katniss distancing herself from me. She said she wanted to forget and maybe I reminded her too much of the arena and the nightmares those memories brought her.

But I had nightmares too.

Hearing her screams in the dead of night will haunt me forever and even now, it takes all my willpower to stop myself from crashing through her front door and rushing to her side.

She doesn’t need me.

At first, I thought time alone would help her figure things out in her head and I of all people, understood. But time wasn’t what she needed. I finally came to terms with what was real.

Gale Hawthorne had been her choice all along.

***

As one lonely day slowly creeps into the next, working in my family’s bakery has been my saving grace, helping me cope with my new life a little more each day. With both Bran and Rye learning new trades from the Merchant businesses they successfully married into, it left my father with no resources to help run the bakery, making me his only viable option.

The strain showed on his face and although dad would never admit to it, especially in front of my mother, I knew he needed my help desperately. So, when I suggested I could work in the bakery for a few hours each day, he accepted my offer in a heartbeat. In an odd kind of way, it felt good to be needed even if I was being used to keep our family business afloat.

It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.

Understandably, my older brothers were quick to register their new living and working arrangements at the Justice Building, automatically forsaking any claims of inheritance or ownership of the bakery. But it was a small price to pay as far as they were concerned, if it meant being free from under our mother’s thumb.

So, technically speaking I am now part-owner of the Mellark Bakery with all rights and privileges bestowed to any Merchant business holder, making mother my employee.

An ironic twist in fate.

***

Safely hidden in the darkness of my own room, my racing heart begins to calm after waking from my usual nightmare. As it is on most nights, my first compelling impulse is to rush towards the opened bedroom window and look in the direction of her room and breathe out a sigh of relief when I see her.

“It’s okay…just another bad dream…she’s safe,” I whisper to myself as I stare at the shadowy figure pacing the floor from across the way. Even in the darkness of her room, I would recognise her silhouette anywhere and she’s becoming alarmingly thinner by the day.

Katniss always leaves her lamp on during the night because she fears being left in the dark. Her phobia started soon after her father’s tragic death in the mines and the thought of him being buried alive in the explosion has left her emotionally scarred. At least that’s what she told me once before she drifted off to sleep in my arms.

Now, each night I watch on helplessly as Katniss paces her room. When I leave my house in the early hours of the morning for the bakery I try so hard not to look, but it only takes two steps outside my front door before my eyes dart towards her dimly-lit bedroom. She’s always there. Standing at her window, sleepless, anxiously twirling her messy braid around her fingers. When she spots me, she’s quick to move from sight.

I tell myself I must be imagining it, but I swear I can feel her eyes boring into the back of my head as I walk along the pathway, towards the gate. But I won’t allow myself to turn around and see if I’m right. She’s probably glad to see me leave while she waits for Gale Hawthorne to arrive.

It’s no secret Gale and Katniss are together now. My mother takes great pleasure in reminding me of this fact.

“Stop pinning over that Seam trash! She used you! It’s a known fact what she does with that Hawthorne boy in those woods. She’s probably carrying his brat inside of her. Time to get on with your own life and find a wife to help you in the bakery…a nice Merchant girl…someone pure like Delly Cartwright. She’s smart, pretty, comes from a respectable family. Those qualities are a rarity. Delly’s the perfect choice for you.”

Choice. Why do I always cringe when I hear that word?

I can’t continue to ignore the facts before me. Katniss hates me. She spends every Sunday with Gale sneaking off to the woods for hours. When they return, he stays at her house until late and the curtains in her bedroom which are usually left open even during the night, are drawn until he leaves.

I’m surprised Mrs Everdeen who was brought up with Merchant values would allow such a thing, but I guess after watching us in the cave during The Games and The Victory Tour, she’s not troubled by it now and happily overlooks her daughter’s lack of propriety because it’s with Gale Hawthorne after all.

I’m sure to hear the announcement of their toasting soon.

I need to keep reminding myself what Katniss does with her life is none of my business. What made me think it ever was? She’s clearly moved on with her life and maybe it’s time I thought about doing the same with mine.

For once my mother may have a point.

tbc…

#Springtime Edition 2020 #submission #justajjfan #prompt 116

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sisternihil · 4 years ago

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Chapter One: Illuminating

Series: Douce (masterlist)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None for this chapter; 18+ after

Word Count: 1.4k

The third Saturday of September was a perfect autumn day. Crisp and sunny. Just right.

The pumpkin patch was more crowded than usual with a suspicious black SUV obscuring the storefront. You parked and started walking down the dirt path to the patches when a gentle voice called behind you.

‘Miss?’

Spinning on your heels, assuming you dropped something you head toward the voice. You stopped several feet in front of him and glanced over his tall, thin frame. He was pretty, pale with plump lips albeit a bit dry. Light brown hair was tucked behind his left ear with soft curly ends resting at his shoulders and his eyes were brown, no wait, they’re hazel in the sunlight. He was beautiful.

‘Miss?’ He calls again.

‘Yes.’ you answer meeting his gaze.

‘I’m Spencer Reid from the FBI, I work with the behavioral analysis unit. We’re investing a disappearance that may have occurred in a corn maze in the area’ his tone was oddly calm considering the circumstances.

‘I heard about that, it’s terrible’ you say as you look down at your dusty shoes. His pants don’t quite touch the tops of his beat-up black and white Chucks and you notice that both his socks are different patterns and colors and you can’t help but smile wide at him.

Is he blushing?

‘Ha-have you seen anyone suspicious in the area?’ He inquires

He’s definitely blushing.

‘Unfortunately no, this is my first trip out here this year. Could I call you if I see anything suspicious?’

You hope he picks up the suggestion but you aren’t sure until he fumbles with his wallet to pull out a business card.

You take it and read aloud ‘Dr. Spencer Reid? You’re impressive you can’t be older than 30.’

‘I, uh, I graduated high school when I was 12 and I am actually 31.’ He’s smoothing his hair back and shifting his weight.

‘Now I’m just embarrassed for myself.’ You chortle, pocketing his card and turning back to the pumpkin patch

‘Uh, you know you could call me even if you don’t see anything suspicious’ he’s trying to sound as confident as possible like Derek had told him.

You face him and smile, ‘I will Dr. Reid.’

He gives you a small wave and slight grin and you try not to be too obvious in your excitement.

Is he the cutest guy you’ve ever seen? He has to be. Suddenly your focus isn’t about finding the most symmetrical pumpkin ever. Should you call him? He was probably just being nice. But he’s so cute. You fight with your inner monologue until you walk back with a pretty good pumpkin.

At the register, you grab fresh donuts and apple cider and tote them to your car. He’s leaning against a black SUV with another handsome guy and a pretty dark-haired woman. You assume those are his partners.

‘Is that her?’ Derek tilts his head toward you.

‘Yes, that’s her. Could you be more conspicuous?’ he breathes out

‘Did you get her name or number?’ both partners ask talking over each other

‘Well, no’ Spencer rubs the back of his neck ‘I just asked her to call me’

‘Go, go, go’ Emily and Derek say in unison pushing him forward.

You can hear someone jogging behind you as you shut your trunk.

‘Dr. Reid?’

‘Um, I forgot to ask, or, well, I wanted to ask, could I-I possibly have your number too?’

‘Of course’ you smile and squeeze his arm lightly. Laying his card on your trunk you send a text ‘Hi, it’s Y/N, the girl from the pumpkin patch’

His phone chimes, ‘that’d be me’ you state and open your car door ‘talk to you soon’.

‘Atta boy’ one of his partners calls out and you can see his male partner slapping his shoulder.

— — — —

On Tuesday you’re immersed in your tarp-covered living room floor with all the tools needed to carve a pumpkin and Hocus Pocus playing in the background. Deciding to finally reach out to the cute doctor you snap a picture of your pumpkin and mess and send it. A ping sounds almost instantly with a compliment to your design and Dr. Reid asking if he could call instead.

‘Hi’ you hope he can hear the smile in your voice.

‘H-hi’ you can, however, hear the nerves in his voice.

Spencer is fiddling with his tie trying to remember how to talk.

‘Spencer are you there?’

‘Ye-yea, I’m here. U-um, I wanted to ask...wouldyouliketogoonadatewithmeSunday’

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘Well, there’s this illuminated pumpkin patch I think you’d love and maybe we could have dinner first?’

‘That sounds amazing.’ you try to hide an excited giggle but it slips out anyway. Spencer lets out a sigh of relief and you carry on with some small talk.

Before you realize two hours have gone by and you feel as if you know Spencer better than anyone you’d met in the last year in the city.

Soft yawns start to interrupt the conversation and both of you bid farewell.

— — — —

Spencer can’t sleep. Not that that’s unusual but tonight he tosses and turns replaying their conversation over in his head. You giggle a lot and yet somehow her presence is very reassuring. He decides needs that.

Soft, affirming, and affectionate. Well, he doesn’t know if you’re affectionate yet or not but he imagines you are. When you touched him at the pumpkin patch he felt like his skin was on fire and he longed for you to touch him again. Wait, was he that touch starved? He decides he is.

— — — —

Sunday can’t come fast enough for either of you. Spencer had insisted that he would pick you up and you’d reluctantly agreed. Surely someone for the FBI wouldn’t be a creep. By Friday you had already picked out your outfit - a cozy sweater, jeans, and booties. You were only a little bit excited, okay that was an understatement. Spencer called every day when he was able and if he couldn’t you always made sure to at least say ‘hi’ via text.

Sunday comes as fast as you’d expect and a shrill ding sounds from the front door. Oh man, you’re fucked. His hair is messed up but in that perfect bedhead sorta way and he’s wearing black and gold horn-rimmed glasses. He’s got on so many layers you don’t bother to count and you realize the mismatched socks are a signature and not a gaffe.

‘I got this for you’ he’s reaching out to place a small ceramic ghost-shaped candy bowl in your hands with a handwritten note attached to the side. ‘I put all of my favorite candies inside and made a ranking chart for you’. You want to melt, how could someone be so sweet? Your cheeks feel unbearably warm as you invite him in while you put up your gift.

‘Let’s go’ you say as your smiling and pulling him out the door. He drives an old VW bug and this doesn’t surprise you in the least.

Dinner goes like catching up with an old friend and you manage to make him snort-laugh with a few really bad jokes.

‘What kind of overalls does Mario wear? Denim-denim-denim.’

Your final destination of the night is just within walking distance from the restaurant. You take note that Spencer walks on the outside of you closest to the street. As you’re about to point this out Spencer starts to explain the Middle Age origins of which side of a man was socially acceptable to walk on and why. ‘Do you know everything?’ It sounds harsh as you blurt it out and you correct yourself ‘I mean is there anything you don’t know something about.’

‘Of course’ he says excitable ‘information and science are constantly evolving so one can’t know everything.’

Your fingers brush against his lightly and he intertwines them. His hands are soft, warm, and engulfing. Fairy lights start to come into view and for a moment you’re almost overwhelmed. Spencer hands two tickets to a booth attendant and you stare in disbelief.

‘Do you like it?’

‘I love it’

Turning to face him you place a chaste kiss on his lips and take his hand as you start walking. Thousands of carved and lit pumpkins line a walkway with displays set up in intervals. Both of you are enthralled with the craftsmanship put into each pumpkin.

You watch his face as he studies what is before him. His profile is dreamy - a cute little nose and a jaw that could cut glass. You were fucked, absolutely, and thoroughly. You knew it when you first laid eyes on him and tonight just reaffirmed your suspicions.

You were deeply, deeply infatuated with Dr. Reid.

— — — —

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x plus size reader #plus size reader #criminal minds #smut #masterlist

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thequeenb · 4 years ago

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Guilty Pleasure

I hate how the Professor gets diamond scenes every time so here i am

Poppy x MC

Warning: Smut

I couldn't stop thinking about her, the way she was on top of me and the way she said my name like a damn prayer. Everytime i closed my eyes images of that amazing night came back to my mind and all i can do is let it take over me

The way her blonde hair was like an angel's halo above her head, the wicked smile she gave me before kissing me fiercely, everything about that night was perfect except for the fact that it was really a one time thing.

Deep inside me i wanted her to bluff, i wanted her to just break these icy walls and reach out to me but she uploaded that video and since then sleep wasn't in my everyday routine. I sit hours thinking about 'what if's' and how things would be if one small thing wasn't done by me or her.

I sigh because here i am looking at my celling dramatically like these stupid movies. I cross my arms too stubborn to admit my feelings but deep down i know i have to find a way and talk to her but what could i even say? Thank you for ruining my life? No too melodramatic..We need to talk? No she will slam the door in my face. How about 'Long time no see?' wow i am really bad at this

I groan against my pillow running out of patience and ideas. Honestly what the fuck am i doing? She is a piece of shit after all but i can't help but see beyond her evilness.

I stand up putting on my favourite skirt and a crop top, if i go to my enemy's dorm at 3:00 am you better expect me to look perfect. I apply her favourite cherry lip gloss and i spray my strong perfume on my neck and clothes. I am really doing this

After a while of sneaking around like i am in a mafia movie i finally approach the Zeta building. The lights in Poppy's room are on so that means she isn't asleep score!

Surprisingly the door is open and then i watch Chloe and Veronica going out walking towards the exit door, okay weird moving on! I step inside and i am amazed everytime even though i have been here 3 times. The marble floor doesn't help me here because of the damn heels that i wear, thank you stilettos

Glancing around to see if anyone is around i run for the stairs and oh wow these stairs are pretty but so many. Finally i arrive on the top floor and i linger outside of Poppy's room. Now what dumbass? I roll my eyes thinking if i should knock or just leave, there is still time to leave huh?

Before i overthink about this i knock at the door softly and not long after Poppy is standing before me..with her silk robe?

"What are you doing here!" Her eyes go wide but i am too focused on that robe its really nice and--

Wowowow. I feel her nails dig into my skin as she grabs my arm dragging me inside the room. She closes the door quickly, turning around to face me

"Just because we had fun the other night doesn't mean you can be seen here!" I can hear the frustration in her voice, is she embarrassed of me?

"Way to welcome me" i roll my eyes soothing my hand, she really does have long nails, no wonder she wanted to use a vibrator

"Can you be quick, I don't want you near my room, its trashy enough"

Oh there we go again with the pathetic insults. This time it feels different because no one is around so why she still acts so cold with me?

"If you are here for the video then i cant delete it now, you always found ways to--"

Without a single sign of hesitation my mouth opens and for the first time i don't control my own words "I like you"

I place my perfectly manicured hand over my mouth shocked at what i just said. Oh no no no no this is so embarrassing! She gasps but quickly recover and the look that she gave me.. its beyond indescribable. I can't tell if its desire or anger but before she can respond a knock on the door interrupt us

I thank God this happen because I don't think i could handle whatever she was going to say.

"Poppy? I forgot my wallet here are you in here?" I can hear Chloe's voice from the other side if the door and we both freeze..oh no

"Get in the closet now" Poppy says pushing me towards her giant closet but i stop her holding her hands firmly

"Hell no, i won't be in the closet again i was already throughout my teenage years"

She rolls her eyes trying so hard not to laugh and so i look around quickly as my eye catch a glimpse of a wooden desk on the other side of the room. I smile to myself thinking what i want to do exactly so i just get comfortably under her big desk

All i can hear is Veronica's and Chloe's voices and a door closing, great i am trapped there is no coming back from this without getting embarrassed

"What took you so long" Chloe says getting inside the room

"You know a text warning me you will come here would be appreciated, i could be asleep" Poppy says clearly annoyed

"But you aren't are you?" Veronica responds and i can already imagine how angry she must be

I hear footsteps approaching the desk and i start sweating. If any of the girls find me here there is not really a good excuse is there? I was just cleaning? No Bea focus

Poppy seems to notice because suddenly her legs are one breath away from my face. She sit in her red leather chair elegantly crossing her legs, what a bummer.

"So you found your wallet you shall be dismissed" she says waving a hand at the girls but little did she know

The bed is placed across from the desk and i assume they both sat there. Poppy is like a ticking bomb ready to explode and i size all the possibilities that i have, should i tease her or should i be a good girl?

My morals have a literal fight before i know exactly what i want to do. I place my palms on her legs working my way up her center. At first i thought she would close her legs even more but to my surprise she opens them wide

"Oh my god this amazing! My YouTube video got 5 million views" Veronica says excitedly but after that everything fades away as i admire every inch of Poppy's body

She is dripping wet making me wonder what kind of thoughts was she having. She sits a little more comfortably giving me better access, this is really happening

I run my tongue all over her thighs always avoiding the place where she needs me the most. I watch her as she grips at the chair tighter and i smirk to myself for my success

"Are you listening Pops?" Chloe asks

"Oooh..yes i do i am just daydreaming about my next shopping spree" she manages to say but her voice was breathy and oh my god so hot to listen to

I finally connect with her center and she looks down at me. We lock eyes and all i can see is stars. I can see the deep desire in her eyes, the hunger is consuming her. In response i place my free hand beneath my skirt and inside my underwear

I can see her frustration but then they have to interrupt us again

"So which bag are you buying? Because i wouldn't want to match with you, last time--"

"Buy whatever you want!" She says basically moaning and i can imagine Chloe's confusion written all over her face

I find a steady rhythm as my tongue slides hard against her. I match my movements so we can both finish at the same time and i go faster letting Poppy know i am close to--

"Oooooh ye--" Poppy stops halfway through the sentence and the room falls silent

"Oh no my nail broke!!!" She says instead and i bite her thigh in warning

"Oh yikes we should go, i am not in the mood for angry Poppy" Veronica says and excitement runs through my body

"Yes ta ta! I want to be alone now" Poppy responds and i hear the door open then close

We are finally alone aren't we Miss Min-Sinclair?

"You naughty girl" i say coming out from my hiding spot

Poppy is breathing hard, her eyes filled with passion "You are going to pay for this"

Before i can find a cocky response i am bent over the desk within seconds and my mind goes blank

"Do you think you can play with fire and not get burned?" Her tone is so harsh but at the same time so incredibly sexy. I feel her lifting up my skirt and a low moan escapes my lips

"This is for embarrassing me Infront of the whole school" and just like that her palm hits hard my back side. Is this really happening?

"This is for uploading the screenshots" and again she spanks me hard but this time i call out her name loudly

She soothes my skin after each spank, she is affectionate after all isn't she? Every nerve on my body surrender to her touch and all i can do is repeat her name like a prayer

"Oh Poppy!!!"

"And this..this is for making me fall head over the heels for you" the moment her palm meets my backside i drive completely crazy. Her words still repeat themselves through my head and its enough to send a chill down my spine

She finally turns me around but she wastes no time throwing her arms around my neck

"I couldn't stop thinking about this" she breathes against my lips and i grip at her waist tighter

"Well i am not done showing you how much i like you" i respond smirking at her

Poppy smiles and i can finally feel like we are on the same page. We spend all the night screaming eachother's names and honestly? This is worth so much more than a stupid crown because this, this is hell and paradise at once.

Tag list: @lolimugly @origmansello @greatestflirt-hero @mvalentine @otakufangirl-12 @sugarplumpnhoneybun @princessstellaris @indecisive-choices @i-loveeveryone @kiara-36 @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @ghalind @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @dibberdipper @tyrils-star @nydeiri @justastranger-passing

#play choices #pb choices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #choices fanfiction #poppy x mc #queen b poppy #choices fic #playchoices #choices #my fics

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oodlenoodleroodle · 3 years ago

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@tina-warriorprincess made an End of Year Meme ask game, but since I am an internet old I do not enjoy ask games, I enjoy filling out really long questionnaires. So a really long questionnaire under the cut.

First things first, did you have a good year? Yeah, I'd say so. I got a permanent part-time job; I got to work another part-time job in the museum that I love the most; I started studying museology in the open university so that feels like it's helping "career" things along; I curated a really cool summer exhibition; I applied for many grants for our association and we got some money...

How old did you turn this year? 36.

Do you feel your age? Umm, I guess? Like I'm not one of those "teehee I'm always twenty" -kind of adults. But I also don't subscribe to this idea that you have to stop playing Pokemon when you get older than 12, so. Depends on how you define that, I guess.

Did your appearance change in anyway? Not in any drastic kind of way.

Post your favorite selfie. https://scontent-hel3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/268437971_10158822845788737_943633472931961037_n.jpg?_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-5&_nc_sid=09cbfe&_nc_ohc=DN6siTjfZo8AX9DkO3_&_nc_ht=scontent-hel3-1.xx&oh=00_AT-Tou7uP2Sb3UaMn7A069RMTxH83phLIsi3f0XtC3sovA&oe=61CF00E9

If you traveled, where did you go? I did not travel.

Which fashion trends did you love? I love second-hand stuff so if that has been more popular lately then that.

Which fashion trends did you hate? Oh! Oh! That thing where pant legs are too short and leave ankles showing! It looks so fail wtf???

What was your favorite article of clothing this year? Post a pic if possible? This blue jacket! It's technically a cosplay jacket but I wear it like a normal jacket. https://www.instagram.com/p/CW1CwpEgg1o/

What song sums up this year for you? Ugh, I'm not very good at this. I was working all the time this year, so something like that. The only one I can think of is Dolly Parton's 9 To 5, but I don't work that kind of office job, so something else...

What album came out and has been on heavy rotation since then? Eh, I don't really listen to music. The thing that has been in heavy rotation for me is the Absolute Beginner lessons in Popupchinese.com

What was your favorite movie of the year? I believe I did not watch a single movie this year. See the part about being always at work.

Did an actor/actress catch your attention for the first time this year? I really cannot say so, no.

Favorite new TV show? Did we watch Revolutionary Girl Utena for the first time this year? No surely it was last year... Hmm...

Which new ship/fandom has taken over a lot of your time, attention, and tears? Nothing new, I only care about Steven Universe.

What food did you try for the first time? Ooh, pretty much all vegan foods we eat was new this year! Tofu scramble, sweet potato curry, vegan bolognese that has soy crumbs instead of mince meat, etc... And also pretty much all ready-made stuff like microwave foods and frozen stuff. Y'all, we have eaten So Well this year :)

Did you make any big permanent changes this year? We did decide to go fully vegan around spring, but ofc that's not a permanent change, that's an ongoing choice that I hope we will keep making.

What was one nice thing you did for someone else? Arranging the summer exhibition was a nice thing I did for the artist, she was really happy with that. I also try to take time off from work in ways that give more shifts for the temps who could do with more money.

What was one nice thing you did for yourself? I consistently insist on sleeping 9 hours per night. That is the nice thing I do for myself every day.

Did you develop a new obsession? Not that I can think of...

Did you vote? Yes, we had a municipal election this year.

Did you move? As in to live in some other place? No. I did do a lot of the other kind though.

Did you get a job? I did! Two jobs in fact! :D But one is permanent.

Did you get a pet? No, continuing with my existing pet Eetu-cat who makes me very happy.

Do you regret not doing anything? Hmm, I had a chance and the means to help a guy out on the bus (his bus pass was dead and the driver wouldn't let him on) and I should have just jumped up and paid for his fare, but I didn't.

Do you regret doing something? I regret going to my parents' house for Christmas. We just are not the kind of people who spend nights away from home. We were both miserable and so was our cat.

Have you done anything that scared you? Oh honey, everything scares me all the time :S

Did anyone/thing make you so mad it stayed with you for days? Work stuff did.

Did you lose anyone close to you? No but my spouse did :(

Did you fall in love? I am in a constant process of falling in love over and over again.

Did you fall out of love? No.

Did you start a new relationship?

No.

Did you go through a break up? No.

Did you have to cut ties to someone? No.

Who was important to you this year but wasn’t important last year? Umm, I guess my new colleagues.

Who wasn’t as important to you this year as they were last year? I guess Heidi, since last year we did an art thing together and this year not so much.

If you could have a do over on one thing you did, would you take it? Nah, I just want to go forward.

What was the best moment of the year for you? Maybe when my cat got on my lap of his own accord for the first time. :3

What was the worst? I honestly can't remember. But that time my bike lock was frozen and I had to leg it to the bus stop to get to work on time was pretty horrible.

Did anything happen that you were sure would change you as a person but it really didn’t? I... don't really exist like this? I don't look ahead to stuff and think about stuff like this?

Did anything happen to you that you were sure wouldn’t change you as a person but it did? Ditto here.

What are you most proud of accomplishing? Honestly: veganism.

What have you learned about yourself this year that you didn’t know in the years prior? That I really am not the kind of person who spends nights away from home.

Did your opinion of anyone change for the better? Not that I had a poor opinion of them before, but I am always more and more impressed with my spouse.

Did your opinion of anyone change for worse? My opinion of my new boss went from neutral to horrible when I found out that she's a serial workplace bully that has been causing problems in the workplace for years.

If you make resolutions, did you complete them this year? I don't think I made any.

If you make resolutions, what will your resolutions be for the coming year? I am not a January-is-new-year kind of bitch, to me autumn is when things start a new (so like, the Jewish people are the ones who got the idea of new year right, imo). HOWEVER we did talk a little about becoming more Christlike and we are considering doing a Christlike attributes developing thing starting now, so that could count.

If you could go on an adventure during the remaining days of the year, where would you go and what would you do? Who would you go this? I actually am going on an adventure these remaining days of the year! I am on an adventure in the Galar region with all my new Pokemon friends! And my spouse but they've been there for a while.

What do you wish for others for the coming year? That everyone finds ways to do things to make the world a better place that are pleasurable. Like especially climate change stuff is so crucial that everyone get on board and actually do stuff - but I hope everyone finds climate change prevention stuff that they enjoy doing.

What do you wish for yourself? That art stuff will go well ;_;

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myblueeyedbuggers · 4 years ago

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My Boys

Chapter 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2075

Warnings: Slow Start, Language, Tiny bit of Fluff

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change

As Promised, here’s Chapter 6. I really enjoyed writing this one, heck I even laughed at one bit XD Also I’d like to thank you all for supporting my work so far, It really means the world to me that people are enjoying my work. As always Enjoy! :)

-Third Person POV

The minutes turned to hours, the hours turned into days, concern over the young girl was increasing day by day. Every single day Bucky and Steve were there, telling her how their days went and what was happening in the world all while holding y/ns hand, each day the boys watched her progress, the memory of her skin slowly regaining its colour giving them a new sense of hope.

Day by day the boys stayed as long as they could, only leaving when Mr and Mrs Barnes appeared at the door to bring them home, each time Mrs Barnes placed a small kiss on the young girl’s head before leaving. All of them taking the opportunity to show small sings of affection towards the girl, hoping that it gave her the strength to recover.

Later that night, when everyone was in bed and resting, a sharp ring disturbed the silence surrounding the house, half asleep Mr Barnes answered the phone, a wide smile appeared on his face as the news the family had been waiting for all week arrived. Quickly the parents rushed to the boys, the pair sharing a smile as they frantically ran around the room to get ready, a few tears of happiness sliding down their faces. A huge sense of relief flowed through Bucky’s veins, all the guilt he felt throughout the week lessened, at least now he knew that he didn’t cause y/n’s death.

-Back at the Hospital

Readers POV

My eyes felt like they’d been welded shut and my head was poundin’ like nobody’s business, what the hell happened to me? Finally, I managed to open my eyes and I was immediately blinded by the bright lights shining in my goddamn face, can I not catch a break for once in my life?! A loud groan accidently slid past my lips, why is it every time I wake up some part of my body is aching? You’d think I was a pro wrestler or somethin’!

I gazed around the room, distant voices could be heard from the corridor, hang on where the hell am I? the room was decorated plain white, with a few pictures hanging on the wall and a small sofa was tucked into the back corner. Another door, presumably for the bathroom, was to the right of the window, the curtains were drawn but the steady tapping on the other side told me it was raining. What a way to come back into reality, absolutely chucking it down with rain, my dumbass soon realised that the nurses might not know I was awake, which is kind of important information.

Slowly I raised myself up, the ache on my midriff increasing much to my displeasure, as I slowly moved my legs off the edge of the bed, both were shaking with the effort of holding my body up and I hoped to god that I didn’t land on my ass anytime soon. Hang on, that might be becoming a very bad habit of mine, I’m gonna need to work on that later… finally my legs stopped shaking, taking VERY cautious steps I started making my way to the door. You’d think walking 5 feet would be easy, wouldn’t you? apparently not.

After about 3 minutes of moving like a bloody snail, I could finally reach the door handle, now for the hard part… turning the door handle, a high-pitched squeak met my ears as the door slowly flung open, the voices outside my room stopped and foot steps came towards my room. Two nurses came around the corner and stopped when the spotted me, a few seconds passed before I started to feel awkward, so I decided to wave at them to try and break the tension. Which in hindsight was one of the dumbest things I could have done in that moment, but it did seem to break them outta their trance, they both came towards me and started fussing over me, “Miss you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed! Why didn’t you just press the call button on the bed side table? how long have you been awake?” There was a bloody call button?! For the love of god!

“I woke up about 5 minutes ago, I’m sorry but could you tell me what happened to me? All I remember is fainting near the bank” The nurses shared a look, both of them ignored my question for the moment and focused on getting me into the bed and calling for the doctor, they gave me strict instructions not to move till the doctor arrived. Well, at least I know I’m in a hospital but what the hell did I do to land in here in the first place? All I remember is getting ready for the war and setting up in the dinner before it all went wrong. Shooting happened, I was taken hostage, shooting happened again, Alexi punched me and broke my nose, I was held at ransom before till I got bored and ran outta the line of fire, Bucky and Steve were pinned behind a wall, I fought with a մոխրագույն օրխիդ and got shot…wait a second…

I’M GONNA KILL THOSE IDIOTS!

I got bloody shot! How the hell did I forget that?! It’s not like I stubbed my toe, an actual bullet went inside me! Oh god are Bucky and Steve okay?! Where are they? Did they get hurt? My mind was going crazy with worry, I hoped to god that this bloody doctor got here soon, or I’d be out of here looking for those pair of numpties! A knock on the door disrupted my thoughts as a team of doctors and nurses filled the room, a few carried important looking equipment with them, a man with a clipboard approached me with a reassuring smile.

“Good Evening Miss y/n, my names Doctor Miller, you’ve been unconscious for a week or so, due to a gunshot wound to your midriff, the bullet shattered on impact and we had to operate to stop any internal bleeding. Now don’t worry too much about that, it’s in the past and there’s no lasting damage done, but we’re going to have to keep you in the hospital for one more night to monitor your vitals but after that you’ll be free to go. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Okay, all I heard was “unconscious for a week” and “no lasting damage”, I really hope that I don’t smell too bad, my pride’s been damaged enough for one week.

“Dr. Miller, do you know what happened to the two boys that were with me at the bank? Did they get hurt at all?” I could hear the fear in my voice, I dreaded the answer and prayed to god that nothing happened to them. He took a moment to reply, my worry increasing by the second, “No, none of the boys got hurt, but I can’t say the same for some of the members of the Црни лабуд, some were killed during the fight and a few passed away in their sleep. I believe that someone called Damien is still alive though, he gave a statement that completely cleared your name in court today”

What? I can’t believe it, why would he do that? One by one everyone started to leave the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I don’t understand it at all, why would Damien go out of his way to protect me? All that’d of done was increase his jail time for human trafficking. It doesn’t make sense…

-Time Skip

At some point I fell asleep, the sound of faint whispering disturbed me from my sleep as I slowly opened my eyes, sat next to me was Bucky’s mother, his father stood behind her as they both offered me a gentle smile. A few tears slid down Mrs Barnes cheeks when she realised I was fully awake, her arms immediately enveloped me into a warm hug, “Oh my Goodness sweetheart, please don’t ever scare me like that again, I was so worried about you” I didn’t reply to her, instead I chose to hug her tighter as confusion began to cloud my mind. Why would she be worried about me? Me? Other people would have been over joyed at the news of me being shot.

Slowly she pulled away from me, choosing to look me in the eyes as carefully stroked my cheek, inspecting the few bruises littered on my face, a small sniffle grabbed my attention as I turned away from her, my eyes glanced over in the direction of the sound. There stood in the corner of the room were the boys, both of their eyes red and puffy as they cautiously made their way towards me, none of us said anything when they reached my side. My eyes scanned over Steve checking for any injuries and damage before I pulled him into a hug, his body tensed up in shock before he relaxed and returned the embrace. “I’m so sorry y/n I never wanted you to get hurt, neither of us did we just wanted to help you” even with his voice muffled, I could tell that the poor lad was crying and I couldn’t blame him, bloody Niagara falls was streaming down my cheeks, I pulled away from him and turned to Bucky, he was looking at the floor and completely avoiding my gaze.

Oh, hell no, no sad boys allowed here! Carefully I leaned forward and grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers together as I pulled him closer, something inside me hurt when his eyes met mine, they held so much guilt, so much pain and sadness and I hated seeing him like this. No words were exchanged as he wrapped his arms around me, a sigh of relief escaped him, my arms automatically tightened around him when a single tear fell onto my neck. His silent sobs cut me down to my core, behind him Steve stood to the side, his eye meeting mine as I grabbed his hand in reassurance, once Bucky calmed down we both drew back, and I pulled both boys in front of me.

“I want both of you boys to listen to me, none of this was your fault, this is all on me. I pushed you both away to protect you and I’m sorry for that, I should have been more honest with you, me getting shot has nothing to do with anything either of you did.” My voice was firm and assertive, but of course that didn’t stop either of them trying to argue with me. Not much of a surprise there.

“But we went in the middle of it, we tried to play the hero’s and we ended up being the villains, you should be mad, not forgivin’ our stupid asses” this is probably not the best time to notice this, but Steve just swore for the first time in his life, I couldn’t be prouder! Wait, where was I?

Goddamn it y/n, concentrate for once in your bloody life! “Okay, stop that crap right now Rodgers, none of this had anything to do with you, although I would like to ask the both of what THE HELL YOU WERE THINKING DIVIN’ INTO THE MIDDLE OF A BLOODY GANG WAR?!” it was safe to say that they weren’t excepting that.

It was actually quite funny, Bucky went completely pale and started stuttering while Steve actually jumped up in surprise and fell down, admittedly I felt a bit bad about that bit. Neither of the boys could form a coherent sentence, both completely panicking as they tried to explain the reason behind their complete stupidity. Slowly my eyebrows started to raise as a small smirk made its way onto my face, the pair of them making no sense as Bucky pointed to Steve and said something about justice. I know I shouldn’t be finding this funny, but I couldn’t help it, they were babbling like a bunch of school girls!

Eventually, they both shut up once they noticed me failing to stifle a giggle, their expression turning from ones of panic to amusement, and eventually I couldn’t contain it, “I’m sorry but your faces were bloody brilliant! Oh my god I’m dying” both of the boys rolled their eyes at me, shaking their heads as Bucky’s parents started laughing with me.

Another Chapter down, as always feel free to leave some tips on how I can improve my writing for you all, Requests and tags are open :) Thanks for Reading!

Rose xx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america #captain america x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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midnightsvns · 4 years ago

Photo

Now I see daylight — a Twilight fanfic

summary: Edward spent his life so long in a ninety-year midnight. Now, all he sees is daylight. A short story about Nessie’s first prom. “How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.” words: 8,280.

AN: so. i was absolutely wrecked after reading the very sad note on which midnight sun ended. to lick my wounds, i wrote this fic, set 12 years after breaking dawn, on the day of nessie’s prom. 404 plot not found just fluff of edward & bella being happy with their now adult daughter. title/summary inspired by the t.s. song daylight. full text under the cut!

Bella and I walked with hands intertwined in the woods behind our house, on our way to the cottage a few miles away that served as our daughter Renesmee’s “room.” When she turned seven, we decided she deserved a space of her own, a space that was removed from her supernatural family who could hear every move she made even if she had a whole floor of the house to herself. It was not unlike the first cottage the three of us had lived in together, back in Forks, in the first year of Bella and I’s marriage. To me, those days seemed as close as yesterday—in reality, twelve years had passed like the blink of an eye. Our daughter was all grown-up now, about to graduate high school for the first time, and today was her very first prom.

We walked at human pace, enjoying the lights and the sounds of early morning in the forest. Before Bella, I would have hated moving at such a glacial pace, always wanting to reach my destination as fast as possible, never lingering under the sunlight long enough to contemplate the diamond-like sparkling of my marble skin. A constant reminder of my inhumanity. But now I relished having the chance to see my wife in the light of day. I knew that all the poets and philosophers who, for two thousand of years, had tried to define beauty, to describe it, had irrevocably failed—because none of them had been fortunate enough to witness Bella smiling and shining under the golden rays of sunlight. I squeezed her hand and chuckled to myself.

Bella, of course, noticed my jocularity. “What are you thinking about?” she wondered.

“I thought that was my line,” I replied, grinning at her. Bella easily controlled her gift now, raising and lowering her mental shields at will. Except in special moments of communication, her shields were always up. She could maintain shields around other people, too, granting peace for me and privacy for my family. The quiet that resulted inside my head was a balm; I could be thankful for it for a hundred years and it would not be enough.

She sighed, and her eyes were suddenly downcast. “Well, I’m glad one of us is cheerful enough to laugh today.” She stopped walking, let go of my hand, and sought shelter under the shadow of a large evergreen tree. I regretted seeing her move away from the sunshine.

Her mournful tone surprised me. “What’s wrong, love? You’ve been looking forward to Renesmee’s prom for weeks now.” It was all I heard the ladies at the house discussing as of late. Alice, our very own literal visionary, was making all their dresses, works of art that were sure to rival even the most revered of Paris’ haute couture scene. Rosalie was browsing our family’s sizable collection of jewelry—composed of heirlooms from our human lives and the very many anniversary gifts from over the decades—for the perfect sets of accessories that would go with Alice’s creations. Esme was renovating and redecorating the front room, the staircase, and the porch, in preparation for today’s sure-to-be endless photo opportunities.

Bella looked up at me, her golden eyes looking regretful. “I just… can’t help but be a little sad that she’s grown up so fast. She’s only twelve, Edward. I spent more time as a clumsy, awkward human child than I’ve spent as her mother,” Bella said, sighing again. “And now she’s graduating and going off to college for the first time? She’s not an adult! How are we even sure she’s fit to be by herself in the human world already? How is she gonna eat? How will she hunt? What if she needs us, or she gets hurt and Carlisle can’t get to her in time? She can’t just go to a human doctor!” Her voice got more and more agitated with every worry she voiced. “And what if she starts dating? And she doesn’t tell us because we’re not there?! She says she’s not interested in anyone romantically now, boys or otherwise, but it’s her first four years in college! She’s bound to catch the sights of some… some no-good jerk who—”

“Stop, Bella,” I said gently, interrupting her before she could spiral any further. I had to resist the urge to laugh at her tirade. It reminded me of the time I went on a very similar, equally anxious rant. Emmett had thought I was a crazy person, worrying about the myriad things that could wipe the human girl I loved out of existence. This time, though, these worries were much easier for me to assuage than when I was fretting over Bella’s mortality and her uncanny ability to attract danger.

I joined her under the cover of the tree and held her marble face in my hands. “Love, I understand wholly all of your anxieties. They’re mine, too. But we need to put a significant amount of trust and faith in our daughter if we want to stay sane during the next four years,” I said earnestly, cracking a little smile, and then started addressing Bella’s concerns one at a time.

“I’m also sad that it has been just twelve short years, and already, we have to let her go. And as much as we may not like it, she is an adult now. She has been for five years. I know she grew up too fast, but if that is the small sacrifice that makes the miracle of her existence possible, then so be it. And she’s had no problems being around humans since she started high school with us when she was eight. As for her eating habits, well, I am worried about the amount of junk food she’ll consume once she is left unsupervised. And she doesn’t need to hunt as frequently as we do…. Once, maybe twice, a month, she can come back here and any one of us would love to go hunting with her. She is also not so fragile that she would ever need the care of any other doctors than Carlisle, Rosalie, or me. As for her first romantic relationship, well... she’s smart, strong-willed. We have to trust that we have raised her well enough that she’ll be responsible, that she’ll know how to protect her heart, and that she’ll be comfortable enough to turn to us for any questions she might have. You are a good mother, Bella. You raised an amazing young woman.” She looked as though she was about to argue, but she said nothing. She must have lowered her shield because I heard her thoughts instead: We raised an amazing young woman. You, Carlisle, Esme, Rose, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper… Even Charlie, Sue, Jacob, and Seth. It really does take a village. Her smile was wry.

I shook my head and smiled back at her. She was still bad at taking compliments. “We just have to trust Ness, love. As much as I would never want to see her hurt, we have to let her make her own mistakes. To let her take risks. And we have to give her freedom while she still thinks it’s ours to grant. If she thinks she’s not ready for this yet, or becomes overwhelmed in any way, she knows she can come back home at any time. All we can do is be there for her, and as long as she knows she’s not alone in this, that she never has to carry the world on her shoulders because we’re supposed to carry part of it for her… She will be fine.”

I looked straight into my wife’s eyes, still holding her face, hoping I had eased her anxieties a little. She visibly relaxed, then placed her hands over mine.

“You know, I really hate it when you make sense,” Bella stated matter-of-factly, glaring at me and pouting a little. I laughed and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Then I pulled her close to my side and led us back on the way to Renesmee’s cottage. If, thirteen years ago, anyone—even Alice—had told me that someday I would be trying to soothe Bella after a bout of anxiety instead of the other way around, I would have laughed in their face.

We made it to the cottage in companionable silence, and Bella’s mood seemed cheerier than before, back to being excited for the day’s events. She knocked on the door, calling for Nessie to wake up, but our daughter opened the door in a flash, greeting us with a chipper hello and a wave to indicate that we should let ourselves in.

“Good morning, Ness. You’re up early,” I commented. Not that our daughter was a late sleeper, but she was also not what one would call a morning person.

“I’m very well-rested, thank you,” she said, walking to the couch in the middle of the cottage’s main living area and plopping down onto it.

“How many hours did you sleep last night?” I asked, suspicious. Half-human, half-vampire hybrid though she was, Carlisle’s recommendation was still at least seven hours of sleep a night, and she often ignored it.

“Seven,” she replied too fast. I raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, six. Maybe five total…” she grimaced, sheepish now. “I was reading books! And I finished a movie.” I was unhappy to hear it. We really didn’t have an exact number of how many hours of sleep she needed each night, but I was sure five wasn’t enough for anyone, human or otherwise. I shook my head and sat next to her on the couch.

The cottage was a cozy place, with a kitchenette in the main room, one bedroom and a small bathroom down a narrow hallway. The main area was where Nessie spent most of her time, a rectangular room with big windows that let in a generous amount of natural light. The wide wall in front of the couch served as the canvas for a mural of the turquoise sea and white-sand beach at Isle Esme, painted from memory by Bella and Renesmee. The three of us had spent two weeks there a couple of years ago to celebrate Nessie’s birthday and my tenth wedding anniversary with Bella. It was my favorite painting in the world.

On the eastern wall was a bay window, Renesmee’s favorite reading nook, flanked by two tall bookshelves. And in front of the couch was a low coffee table, cluttered with books, stacks of paper, journals, pens, paints and paintbrushes, canvasses, coffee mugs, and a laptop. I sighed. The organized chaos, as Ness often referred to it, reminded me much of her mother’s old room at the Swan residence. Bella started tidying up the table immediately, replacing books onto the shelves and rearranging the mess on the table. I turned my attention to the kitchenette’s dirty dishes and the haphazardly discarded clothes on the couch, shaking my head at the untidiness. She spent her days with us either at school or at the main house, and sometimes even slept there when she felt like it. How could one girl create so much disarray after one night?

“Mom, Dad, stop it, I’ll do that later…” Nessie admonished us halfheartedly, but we were done cleaning up before she finished speaking the sentence.

“Did you already have breakfast, honey?” Bella asked.

Ness nodded and grinned. “I had cereal and two Pop-Tarts.”

Wonderful. Clearly she knew how to make healthy choices. I almost wished for the time before she had outgrown her distaste for human food. At least on a diet of animal blood, we knew she was getting some nutrients.

Bella rolled her eyes, although I knew she wasn’t really annoyed. “Esme will make you eat some fruit at the house. Are you ready to go now? Alice wants to do a final fitting of your dress, just in case she needs to make any changes.”

“It’s too bad Aunt Alice can’t see me in her visions. She could just decide to make any changes and then know which ones are right,” Nessie mused, then shook her head and bounded up from the couch, walking quickly down the hallway and into her bedroom. She came out a second later, hands deftly fastening a necklace on the nape of her neck. It was the necklace Rosalie had given her as a present for her birthday last year, a thin platinum chain and an oval pendant with the family crest on it. We filed out of the cottage, and Bella locked the door behind her.

The three of us walked together, Nessie in the middle. I asked her what books she was reading last night that she had gotten so little sleep. Instead of communicating verbally, she held my hand and showed me.

I started seeing her memories from only a few hours ago, implanted into my mind as seamlessly as though they were my own. I saw her reading all seven books of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series and watching the first film adaptation. I saw how much she’d enjoyed them. Then, I saw her thoughts on the character Aslan, the wise talking lion and savior of Narnia. She admired him, his kindness and wisdom and compassion…. Suddenly, I saw my own face mixed in with images of the lion. She was trying to tell me the lion reminded her of me.

It shocked me. I’d enjoyed the world of Narnia at the time they were published and became widely popular in the 1950s, and even Bella had told me it was one of her favorite book series. As a lonely immortal, I’d always taken comfort in the fact that I had an Aslan-like figure in my life to look up to. My father, Carlisle. It never occurred to me to think that I could ever fill that role for someone else.

I must be doing something right, I marveled to myself. If Renesmee could liken me to someone who reminded me so much of Carlisle, then perhaps fatherhood wasn’t as lost on me as I had so often felt it was. It was like I was walking on a cloud, an invisible weight lifted off my shoulders. I wrapped my arm around Nessie as we walked, trying to let her know how much I appreciated the privilege of her sharing her thoughts with me. And then she surprised us by speaking in a serious tone.

She moved away from under my arm and moved a few paces ahead, turning around so she could face us. She walked backwards as she talked, her footing steady and sure. “Momma, Daddy, I don’t think I’ve thanked either of you yet… for allowing me to go and study on my own. I know you’ve always tried to let me have a normal childhood, to make sure I never missed out on anything. I love living with you guys. I love talking to Grandpa Carlisle about history and art. I love helping Grandma work on houses. I love shopping and appreciating fashion with Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose. I love playing chess with Uncle Jasper and Uncle Emmett. I love our piano lessons, Daddy, and our two-person exclusive book club, Momma. I love going back to Forks on holidays to visit Grandpa Charlie. I love our baseball games. But now I’m ready to experience the world for myself. I know it must be hard to let me go and that you’re scared for me. I’m scared, too….”

If my heart were still alive, it might have grown in size from the joy I felt. Renesmee rarely addressed us this way anymore. It was always Mom and Dad or Edward and Bella, if we were in public. It carried me back to the days when she was still just a little child. A rapidly growing, highly intelligent child, but still our little child. She was always so perceptive; it was as though she’d sensed the essence of the conversation Bella and I had had before we reached the cottage, and this sober declaration was her way of telling us she understood.

“You have nothing to thank us for, sweetheart,” I said quickly, at the same time that Bella hurried to ask Nessie what she was afraid of, concern in her voice.

Our daughter blew out a long breath. “I’m scared of living alone, of being completely responsible for myself. But I’m really excited about it, too, and most of the time the excitement overpowers any doubts I have. I’m certain I wanna do this, and don’t they always say that something isn’t worth doing if you’re not at least a little bit afraid?” she asked, her smile reaching her deep brown eyes.

Bella paused and left my side to grasp our daughter by the shoulders. “All we want, Nessie, all we will ever want, is your happiness. And we want you to find out what that means for you on your own terms. If you decide tomorrow that you’d be happy never going to college at all, none of us will argue with your decision. But I can see how sure you are about going. I can’t promise you that I won’t be worried sick and that I won’t be calling you multiple times a day until you’re very, very annoyed with me… But I know you can take care of yourself now, and I can’t wait to see what you do next, baby.” Bella’s lovely voice sounded assured, no trace of the anxiety she’d confided in me just moments earlier. This was what I meant whenever I told Bella she was a good mother, and seeing her in action never failed to earn my awe.

“Thank you, Momma,” Renesmee said sincerely, circling her arms around Bella, and Bella hugged her back. “And I promise I will never be annoyed by your calls, even if you call a hundred times a day,” she said, grinning. “I won’t ignore yours, either, Daddy.”

This made me and Bella laugh. Of course Nessie would make time to take her crazy parents’ calls. No one was sweeter than our daughter.

Their hug ended, and we kept walking. Suddenly there was a glint of mischief in Renesmee’s eyes, and then she touched my arm and Bella’s to tell us we were being challenged to a race. Before the thought was even fully communicated she had already taken off running to the house. I shook my head and chuckled as we hurried after her. She couldn’t quite run as fast as vampires, but the head start might be enough to guarantee her win.

When we reached the house, my brothers were waiting outside for us to arrive. They both had cameras in hand—Jasper a professional digital SLR and Emmett a Polaroid instant camera. With Bella around, I couldn’t hear their minds, so I raised an eyebrow at the both of them in question. What were they up to now?

“Nessie’s already in the house, you rusty old slowpokes,” Emmett said in greeting, mocking me and Bella. But mostly me. “And to think you used to be the fastest, Edward. What a fall from grace. Let me take a picture of this really embarrassing moment for you real quick.” He positioned the instant camera near my face and pressed a button, and it started whirring as it printed out the picture. He grinned and deposited it into a large red handbag, presumably Rosalie’s, that he had slung over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes at my brother and asked what they were doing with the cameras instead of responding to Emmett’s attempts at vexing me. It was Jasper who answered. “We’re having a photography competition. Whoever contributes the most shots for Esme’s photo albums will win. She’s planning to keep one for us and one to send to Forks for Charlie, so we’ll need a lot of pictures.”

“Yeah, and the winner—who will definitely be me—gets to skip the bake sale that Esme is going to for some hospital fundraiser,” Emmett explained with an arrogant smile. I rolled my eyes again. Of course my brothers had found a way to turn this day into some kind of contest.

“Doesn’t the Polaroid give you a pretty significant disadvantage, Em?” I pointed out, wondering how much film he was lugging around in Rose’s handbag.

“Just because it’ll be more challenging doesn’t mean I can’t still win,” he replied, shrugging. “The pictures I take will be better. Plus, the easy way is overrated, don’t you think?”

Jasper shook his head at Emmett’s smugness, then told me and Bella to pose for a picture. I turned to Bella and she turned to me, and I held both of her hands. I smiled adoringly down at her as she stared back up at me with her deep, amber eyes. We weren’t looking at the cameras, but I heard the workings of the two small devices as my brothers captured the moment.

“Aww, you two are disgusting,” Emmett chuckled as Jasper showed the photograph to all of us on the camera’s tiny screen. “Esme’s going to love that one.” The Polaroid Emmett had taken was still developing, and he shoved it inside the red bag with all the others. Then they went inside to find better subjects for their contest.

Bella and I made our way inside as well. The house was alive with the whole family looking forward to tonight’s events. I heard Alice, Rosalie, and Nessie in Alice’s room, chattering and working away on their gowns. I heard Esme in the kitchen, making breakfast for Renesmee or perhaps practicing some recipes for the upcoming bake sale. I heard Jasper and Emmett running around everyone like a couple of paparazzi, taking pictures left and right. Only Carlisle was absent, hard at work at the hospital, but he’d be back in time to see us all off to prom tonight. Bella kissed my cheek in farewell before joining Nessie with her aunts upstairs.

I gravitated towards the piano, as I often did. I scanned the perfect mental repository of all the music I knew, trying out a few bars from different pieces—some my own compositions and some written by better musicians than I—but none of them spoke to me…. Until one did. I sat down and began playing the first notes of “Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity” from Holst’s orchestral suite, The Planets. It was a piece that sounded abundantly better when played by a full orchestra, but I enjoyed it regardless. My hands glided quickly across the piano keys to produce the quick, jaunty chords of the exposition. Then the development came in ritardando, varying from the cheery main theme to take a strangely calm, nostalgic turn. Although it evoked feelings of nostalgia, it wasn’t sad. Only pensive about a time already past. The piece concluded a tempo, returning to the happy and powerful main theme. I didn’t realize how much the song reflected my mood until I was already finished playing it.

Knowing her thoughts were protected by Bella’s shield, Esme offered me her kind compliments out loud from the kitchen. “That was wonderful, Edward,” she gushed. “I have always been so fond of that piece. Please play some more, darling.” I murmured a thanks, then obliged my mother and started playing her favorite, the very song I had played for Bella the first time I brought her home to meet my family. Even though the memory was tainted by the agony and danger of the events that followed, I still looked back on it with some joy. That was the night Bella became a part of our family.

The day went on that way, calm and peaceful, everyone busy with their respective tasks. Nessie came down to join me once in the afternoon and let me hear a new composition she was working on. It was her best yet, and I told her as much. Bella came downstairs as well, listening to me play and rereading Persuasion by Jane Austen while she sat beside me on the piano bench.

Before long, it was time for us to get dressed and ready for the prom. I quickly changed into my dark brown suit. The color had been my only stipulation, the rest decided by Alice’s keen sense of fashion. Since that overcast Thursday morning—the day that had been my turn to ask questions—my favorite color had never wavered from brown. The chocolate-brown color of Bella’s human eyes was not just preserved fondly in my memories, but alive forever in Nessie, and it was beyond the bounds of possibility for me to separate such a color from the meaning of all my happiness.

After I was dressed, I tried to peek into Alice’s room to see if they were ready to go, but Alice, annoying as ever, blocked my entrance and told me to wait with Esme and Carlisle downstairs. I rolled my eyes but followed her instructions. Arguing with Alice was almost never worth it.

Carlisle was just arriving home from work right as I was coming down the stairs, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Why, you look great, Edward,” he praised, setting his medical bag down on a table in the foyer. I thanked him humbly. He reached up and loosened his tie, likely more out of habit than out of a need to be more comfortable. It struck me as a very fatherly thing to do. Esme came out of the front room, greeting Carlisle with a bright smile and a quick kiss. “You’re home just in time, dear. I think the girls are almost done helping Nessie get ready.”

I snorted. At this rate, we were never going to leave the house in time. “Alice, we’ll be late!” I shouted in the direction of the stairs, knowing she could hear me perfectly.

“No, we won’t!” Alice chimed back confidently. I sighed.

Jasper and Emmett were already in their tuxedos and bounded quickly down the stairs, cameras still in hand. Rosalie was the one who joined us next, looking devastating in a burgundy mermaid dress. Emmett looked like he was about to combust. Jasper smirked at our brother’s dumbstruck expression, snapping a few pictures.

Then it was my turn to be dumbstruck as Bella started down the stairs, moving at full speed to be at my side in an instant. “Alice wouldn’t let me see Ness wearing her dress yet,” she complained, but all my attention was on her at that moment. She looked positively incredible wearing a knee-length, square-necked light azure dress, held up by thin straps with flutter sleeves and inset with a thousand little rhinestones that looked like stars. My wife could have been Selene herself, come down from the moon. I ran my fingers gently through Bella’s long, straight brown locks and pressed my palm to her cheek. And for the nth time in so many years, I was glad for the deal I’d made with Bella on our first wedding anniversary. “You look beautiful, love. Absolutely arresting,” I said honestly.

“I know,” Bella said, beaming up at me, and I laughed happily. This was our deal: whenever I told her the indisputable truth about how beautiful she looked, all she had to say in response was that she knew. In exchange, I was forbidden from spending money on gifts for her for exactly five years, and five years was such a short time for creatures such as we that the zero-gifts rule felt like it was lifted immediately. I circumvented the moratorium, anyway, by getting gifts that were for both Bella and Nessie, or both Bella and Esme…. It may not have been the fairest of contracts, but my intentions were of the purest kind. I leaned down and pulled my beautiful goddess of a wife into a deep kiss, and I felt her wide smile as her arms wrapped around my neck. We only broke away from each other when we heard Alice skipping down the stairs, dressed in a white two-piece cocktail dress that made her look like a mischievous fairy.

“Get ready, everyone!” Alice squealed, clapping her hands in anticipation. “I can’t wait to see your reactions, I know you’ll all just die.”

My sister was right. Renesmee—our only daughter, the greatest joy of our lives—stood at the top of the stairs in a gorgeous, peach pink off-shoulder gown decorated with the same little rhinestones that were on her mother’s dress and delicate leaf-patterned lace appliques, and she was a sight to die for. As she walked slowly down the stairs, one hand on the banister, Emmett and Jasper took pictures fervently, documenting the entire moment. I saw Bella press her hand to her chest, eyes soft and adoring.

“Well, how do I look?” Nessie asked when she reached the bottom of the stairs, a half-smile on her face. Her soft bronze hair fell in long, spiral waves down her shoulders, and on her neck, she still wore the necklace she’d put on this morning. She spun around in a circle, indulging the attention we lavished on her, understanding that today would not have been such a significant event for us if not for her. Esme made me, Bella, and Nessie pose for pictures by the staircase, then on the couch in the front room, and then outside on the porch. After Esme was satisfied with the pictures of the three of us, Jasper and Emmett set up a tripod and took a photo with all nine of us in the front room, our latest family portrait. When the photoshoot was done, we all filed into our vehicles to make our way to school. Bella and Nessie rode with me in the Volvo, and my siblings rode in Rosalie’s M3.

We made it to the high school just in time, and even from the car, I could already hear the booming electronic dance music and the excited prattle of hundreds of human children crowded around in the school gym. I prepared myself for the barrage of human thoughts I would have to hear tonight; the only people Bella would shield here were our family. Although Bella could shield a roomful of people from me easily, I still needed to be on the lookout for any suspicious minds when we were in public like this. The three of us met the rest of my siblings at the doors to the gym and joined the throng of high schoolers, looking like they were having the time of their lives. Little did they know how many lethal supernatural creatures had just descended upon this party. If they knew, maybe they wouldn’t be so happy.

“Are you ready for your first—but definitely not last—prom, Carlie?” Emmett asked my daughter, grinning. Nessie went by her middle name at school to be less conspicuous. At first, Bella was greatly displeased by the necessity of this precaution, but she couldn’t deny the rationale. We stood out more than enough being newcomers in a small town like this one, with our sheer number, our wealth, our beauty, and our semi-frequent ‘family trips’ to avoid the sun.

“Time to dance the night away!” Nessie said, grinning back at her uncle. She bounded away from us to meet a couple of her classmates, two girls who reminded me of Bella’s human friends, not physically, but in their manner and thoughts. Ness didn’t have many friends, and we had started to worry that her only interaction with other living beings was isolated to her family, but she rarely found her human classmates interesting, and when she did, it was because she genuinely had something in common with them.

The girl who was like Jessica, a brown-haired girl named Lindsay, shouted over the loud music at Nessie in greeting. “Oh my God, look how gorgeous you are!” Jesus, she looks like she belongs in some runway show right now. I wonder what designer this dress is by? Probably cost a million bucks…. I kind of hate her. Lindsay’s thoughts were petty and vitriolic, and I resisted the urge to march over there and shield my daughter from the bitter girl. That would have done more harm than good, so I settled for rolling my eyes and whispering in my wife’s ear about the girl’s thoughts. It was gossipy and ungentlemanly, but I had to share the burden of being powerless to protect Nessie from a fake friend.

“Oh, that girl is in my English class,” Bella said, looking unsurprised. “I knew she was mean, but I liked her Shakespeare essays. Nessie thinks she’s smart.” I scoffed and tuned in to the other girl’s thoughts—Annie, a girl with short, pink-dyed hair who made me think of Angela. She greeted Nessie with a hug, and thought, Wow, she looks like a princess. I should ask her to take a selfie with me! My mom will be super bummed if I don’t take a lot of pics tonight…. Annie pulled out a smartphone, and the three girls smiled as the little device flashed and snapped their ‘selfies.’ And then they ran to the dance floor together, jumping and laughing to the music.

I stayed with Bella in a darkened corner, and we watched Renesmee enjoying herself. Occasionally, one of my siblings would pull us away and make us dance to the upbeat music, but neither of us were particularly fond of the DJ’s infernal choices. The DJ, a baby-faced young boy called Drew who had Spanish class with me, exclusively played EDM and bastardized remix versions of classic love songs. By the ninth EDM song in a row, I finally put my proverbial foot down and crashed the DJ booth on stage to bribe him with a fifty dollar bill so he would play a song of my choosing. The boy was astonished and could barely say anything back to me, but as I walked through the crowd to reach Bella again, Johnny Ace’s “Pledging My Love” started blaring through the loudspeakers. I took Bella’s hand as we walked to the middle of the dance floor, and once we were there, I pulled her close to me and led us in a slow, intimate dance.

“This is the most romantic song I know,” Bella whispered, her head resting on my chest as we swayed slowly in a circle.

I chuckled. “Once upon a time, in a very old and decrepit truck, this song came on the radio and provided an apt soundtrack for the most romantic day of my life. Do you still remember that?”

Bella lifted her head from my chest and looked up at me, her eyebrows knitted together playfully. “My God, thirteen years and you’re still hating on the truck? I think you’ve got some issues to sort out there, honey,” she said, her beautiful lips turned up in a smirk. Then her face became more earnest. “But of course I remember. That was one of the best days of my life, too.”

Her amber eyes looked so full of love, so full of sincerity, that I felt like falling to my knees. As a mature vampire, more than a decade after her transformation, she should have no more than a few blurry recollections of her human life. But Bella felt so strongly about me, about the memories we’d made, that she vehemently held on to our past, even as each day, each minute, and each second brought us further away from it. I kissed her, always trying to let her know how precious she was to me. The song was nearly over, and I sighed. I could have stayed there dancing with her forever and never need anything more.

“Smile, please!” I heard Renesmee say, Emmett’s Polaroid camera in her hand. She snapped a photo of us. Then she turned the camera around, sandwiched herself between her mother and I, stuck her tongue out goofily, and pressed the button on the camera to take a picture again. Bella laughed.

“Where did your friends go?” Bella asked. “I was starting to think you guys would never get tired of dancing together.”

“Oh, they went back to their dates,” Nessie said nonchalantly. “So I decided to annoy Uncle Em by taking his camera.” A folky, lullaby-like acoustic song was now playing through the speakers.

“Oh—I love this song so much!” Nessie gasped. “Please dance with me, Dad?” She whispered the last word to keep any humans from hearing.

How could I refuse her? “Of course, sweetheart.”

Bella smiled and took the camera and the Polaroids from Nessie, saying something about finding Emmett and his big red bag. I led my daughter in a slow dance around the crowd, her hands resting on my shoulders.

“You and Mom looked amazing dancing together like that,” Nessie said casually, but by the look on her face, I could feel how serious the conversation was going to be. “I know the story, Dad. I know everything you went through before you could get here. And I am so happy that it worked out for you. Seeing how much you love Momma, how much she loves you… it makes me never wanna settle for anything less than that.”

My brows furrowed. “Is that why you said no to the boys who asked you to be their date tonight? Because you don’t love any of them?”

We kept swaying to the music, and Nessie chuckled. “Kind of. It’s true I said no because I don’t feel a connection to any of them, but also because I didn’t want tonight to be about some stranger hanging out around our family. I wanted it to just be us, so we could be ourselves.”

My heart swelled. Nessie always thought of our family first. That wasn’t her responsibility, and we would’ve been all too happy to pretend to be human and normal for any prom date of her choice, but she thought of us first. She was so like her mother in some ways.

“What did you mean, then? About never settling for anything less?” I asked. Something about the way she’d said it worried me, made me feel as though there were insecurities underneath her positive tone that needed to be addressed.

She took a deep breath. “I just… I realized that real love like I’ve seen with you and Mom, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Em and Aunt Rose, Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice… it’s rare and it’s wonderful. And I think I would prefer waiting for a love where I could feel everything there is to feel rather than try to force something with anyone I’m not sure about. And I realize I could be waiting forever if I keep waiting for something perfect, but that’s the point, isn’t it? And I can’t imagine how I would ever find something like that. And that’s all right, I think.”

Renesmee’s words were full of conviction, and I started thinking about how, someday, the day would come when we would be dancing just like this—I would be in a tuxedo and she would be in a big white dress—at her wedding, for the father-daughter dance. Like her, I could not imagine yet the person she would marry, but I saw our family there. I saw Charlie desperately trying to ignore how our faces still remained unchanged. I saw Jacob, whom Renesmee considered her best friend, taking a break from managing his own auto repair shop to be there as her best man. It would be the happiest day of her life, just as how my wedding had been one of the happiest days of mine, and it saddened me that she couldn’t see herself finding that happiness one day. But I understood Nessie’s conclusions—or maybe more accurately, her fears—about not finding love. When I was still alone, I’d come to similar conclusions that the kind of happiness I saw in my family was simply not meant for me. Even when I’d found Bella, I always chose the saddest path, never daring to hope that I could have happiness with her forever.

“I admire your position about refusing to settle, Ness, because you deserve only the best. And I was just like you once. Before I found your mother, I never saw the point in pursuing relationships that I knew weren’t going to be meaningful. But you shouldn’t let yourself believe that you won’t find what you’re looking for.” I brushed a stray lock of curly bronze hair behind Nessie’s ear, hoping she could hear the honesty in what I was saying. “You know that for our kind, waiting through decades of being alone before finding who you’re meant for is more common than finding that right away….So please, don’t be so resigned. You are entirely too young to resign yourself to an eternity of being alone. It will work out, somehow,” I finished, echoing Esme’s confident words to Bella long ago when our relationship was at its very beginning.

Renesmee nodded, and I hoped my reassurances had lifted a little of the weight off her shoulders. I didn’t need to have Jasper’s gift for empathy to know that existing in both our world and the human world, not quite belonging in either, was a difficult thing to process. I didn’t know what the future held for my daughter—none of us did—but I looked forward to it with the same optimism my own parents had always had for me.

The acoustic ballad we were dancing to ended softly, and I escorted her away from the dance floor so we could rejoin our family.

“My feet kind of hurt,” Nessie complained as we found Bella sitting beside Rosalie on some folding chairs, but a smile was still bright on her face. She was having such fun tonight.

“Do you want to go home, baby?” Bella asked as Nessie dragged over another chair to sit down between Bella and Rose. Nessie rested her head on Rose’s shoulder, and Rose circled her arm around Nessie in a one-armed hug. “You’ve been dancing all night, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Yeah, I think I wanna go home,” Ness said, sounding a little sleepy.

Suddenly, Lindsay and Annie appeared out of the crowd as an upbeat pop song started playing. “Carlie, come dance with us!” one of the human girls said.

Nessie perked up. “Wait, I love this song! Just one last!” she said enthusiastically, heading back to the dance floor with her friends. I shook my head, amazed at her energy. I sat down on the seat that Nessie had just vacated.

“We’re still a go for tomorrow, right, Rose?” I asked Rose discreetly. If the weather was safe enough for us to be out, we were going into the city tomorrow so Rose could help me pick out Nessie’s very first car. She learned how to drive when she was seven but always used the cars that belonged to the rest of the family. Now that she was going to college, she needed a vehicle to be able to get around on her own. Bella was coming with us, too, to be the voice of reason. Apparently, Rose was just as likely as I was to pick a car that Bella would deem—and this was her word—‘overkill.’ Rose only nodded in response, but I saw the corners of her mouth turn up a little.

We all watched as Nessie danced to one last song with her friends, and I could pick her lovely voice out of the babble of other noise as she sang along. “There’s a mountaintop that I’m dreamin’ of…. If you need me, you know where I’ll be!”

“She’ll call us constantly once she’s in college, right?” Bella asked me in an emotional whisper, looking at our daughter jumping up and down and singing with her friends. Since she became a vampire, I rarely thought of my wife as vulnerable anymore, but she looked vulnerable now. If our bodies were still capable of shedding tears, I wondered if she would be crying. Honestly, I realized I wanted to cry as well. Renesmee was ready to create her own life, and she needed us less and less every day. Years ago, I’d thought loving Bella was the greatest accomplishment of my life, the only good thing I would ever do. I’d thought that, after a hundred years of emptiness, loving Bella as thoroughly and as completely as I did was the strongest feeling I would ever experience. But Nessie—she proved those assumptions wrong, time and again. It was an honor to have raised her, and I knew Bella felt the same.

I held Bella’s hand and kissed her temple. “I’m sure she will, love. I’m sure she will.”

After a few moments, the song was over, and Nessie was saying her goodbyes to her friends. When she had made her way back to us, she cried, “My feet are killing me! Please never let me dance all night in heels ever again.”

Bella let out a short laugh. “It’s fine, baby. You can take off your shoes and your dad will carry you to the car.”

“Oh, bless!” she exclaimed. Bella laughed again. Nessie pulled off her heels, which Bella promptly carried for her, and our daughter let me lift her up in my arms. As we walked, Bella wrapped her arm around my waist. I glanced up at the night sky and saw the pale moon untrammeled by the usual gray clouds, bathing the high school parking lot in its ghostly light. It conjured up memories of a similar evening. Another prom night—Bella’s very first. I’d carried her in my arms just like this, and I remembered how desperate I’d been, how important it was for me that she did not miss her prom, in case her future children ever asked about it. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t have an empty story for them because of me. And here we were, thirteen years later, with the miracle of our own child in my arms, Bella’s arm around me. Not even the sweetest of my dreams could compare to the reality we lived in now. I stared at Bella’s face, wondering if her thoughts had taken the same turn mine had. She pressed a hand to her throat, remembering how I’d kissed her there that night. We shared a secret smile.

When we reached the car, Bella opened the door to the backseat, and I sat Ness gently down in the middle, making sure her limbs were in comfortable positions. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, looking seconds away from succumbing to sleep. Bella got in beside her, and I sat in the driver’s seat to take us back home.

At moments like this, I still struggled to believe how I could have been given so much happiness, so much unadulterated joy that went beyond the ambit of anything I had ever dared to dream of for myself.

It felt like a reward I didn’t deserve. Maybe it was futile, looking for reasons when I knew I would get no answers. But in all my musings, the only conclusion I came to that made any kind of sense was that… it was because of Bella.

Because of Bella and her goodness, that rare kindness I saw only in her—she was why I was allowed all this happiness. And I was just the fool lucky enough to be in the range of her shining sun. Lucky enough to love her and be loved by her.

How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.

I looked back at them again, Nessie now sleeping soundly on Bella’s lap, and Bella absentmindedly twining her fingers through the mess of bronze curls fanned out on the soft fabric of her dress. “She’s dreaming,” Bella whispered. I could see Nessie’s hand on Bella’s arm, inadvertently letting Bella see the pictures she was swimming through in the land of her dreams.

I was sure that no words in any of the languages I knew could ever sufficiently reveal the feelings of peace and contentment that I felt, staring at them, the two halves of my heart, at ease in the backseat.

Bella caught me looking then, her golden eyes piercing through mine in the rearview mirror. She smiled, lowered her shields, and allowed me to hear one thought: I love you.

“I love you, too, Bella,” I whispered. I willed the past and the future that stretched out infinitely before us to give those words weight, seeming too simple and inadequate to convey the depth of what I felt.

No, I didn’t have the words that could tell Bella how grateful I was for her. For Renesmee. For our family. Perhaps I never would…. But that was fine. I had the rest of forever to try and find the words. Forever and forever and forever. I smiled and felt lighter than if my heart were not made of stone, and sped up the car to take us faster towards home.

#writing #twilight fanfiction #kellythepitiablefangirl #thethoughtsofafangirl #edwardsmidnight #magicandmyth #mafitheedwardhoe #← thanks once again to my friends for prereading this and giving me feedback u guys are the bestest #midnight sun still has me very 🥺🥺🥺 and this entire fic was just an exercise in reminding myself that e/b are living their best lives now

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