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notbleachtea · 3 years ago

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First Time With Jotaro

Warnings: 18 and up, no minors, afab reader

Word Count 3.6K

Hey this is the first fanfic I’ve written so please don’t hate it too hard! Everyone is aged up to be legal of course and clearly this is an alt universe since some certain characters show up aha.

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“Hey Kakyoin! Wanna hang out after school? I actually wanted to talk to you about something if you don’t mind?” You asked.

“Yeah sure, I don’t think I have anything going on tonight. Is Jotaro coming too?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh? Okay. We can go out for some ice cream after school then? I’ll pick you up by your locker.”

The school day goes by, you had a hard time explaining to Jotaro that you wanted to hang out with just Kakyoin today, but once you said you had “girl stuff” you needed to do he just decided he’d ask you about it later and let you do your own thing tonight.

“So what did you wanna talk about y/n?”

“Have you noticed Jotaro acting weird lately?”

“Whataya mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy? He just gets quiet all of a sudden when we’re hanging out. Whenever we’re watching movies he doesn’t wanna make out as much. I’m sorry if this is too much! But, do you think he’s getting tired of me?

“Woah woah slow your roll y/n! From what I hear when we’re hanging out, he’s actually crazy for you. I’m not supposed to tell you this but he’s worried that he’s going to mess things up with you.”

“Oh-” you muttered. “I had no idea.”

“Well, how do you feel about him y/n? Like, do you-” he starts to lead on.

“Yeah, I think I love him. I’m too afraid to say anything to him about it though. I’m worried he doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure he’s felt that way since the day you two started dating. The guy never shuts up about you, and you can always catch him staring.”

“So you’re saying he isn’t going to break up with me next week?”

“WHa-! Why would you think he was going to do that?!”

“Well I don’t know. He just asked me this morning if I wanted to hang out with him next Friday so we could talk. With how quiet and weird he’s been lately I just came to the conclusion he wanted to break up with me but he was sparing my feelings until after my exams next week.”

“Next Friday huh? He did tell me he was too busy to hang out that day. And I remember catching something about Holly and Joseph being out of town next weekend…”

“Wait, so you mean to tell me, he’s trying to invite me over, alone?! Do you think-”

“I think he might want to talk to you about taking things to the next level to be honest.”

“Like, you know-”

“I’m not saying yes and I’m not saying no, but I’m pretty sure he wants to admit he loves you.”

“Do you think he wants to- do it? I mean, with the house being empty, that doesn’t happen often.”

“Y/n, all guys always want to do it. The question is, do you want to do it?”

“Hm, you know what, I think if the moment leads to it, I would say yes. I’m ready to go along with it. I would do anything for him.”

“Well, I guess you have a week to figure out how your Friday night is gonna go hehe.”

“Whataya mean me? You know that you’re going to help me prepare for this, right?!”

“Wha- whataya think I know about this kind of stuff anyways?”

“Well you know Jotaro, and you can help me pick out the right outfits to peak his interest too! How about we swing by the mall after this and pick up something cute? Pleasse?”

“Oh alright, I can’t say no to you anyway.”

You already have the perfect skirt in mind at home. All you need now is a cute top to go with it.

“So Kak, what kind of top do you think I should wear? I think I’m gonna wear my black miniskirt so I wanna get something that goes with that.”

“Oh yeah, he does talk about you in that miniskirt alot.”

“He does??”

“Uhh, nooo I did not say that out loud aha- anyway! I think simple would be the best way to go dontchya think? You could do a black top. Maybe low cut but with long sleeves?”

“Oh yeah that does sound pretty cute! How about this one?”

“Yeah that’s perfect! I’d pair that with the star earrings he got you for your birthday and a pair of hightops and I’d say we're good to go.”

“Well-, there’s one more stop I’d like to make…”

“What else do you need?”

“Well, you know, in case anything does happen, I kinda think, mayybee, ya know, I should have a cute new set just for him..”

“Ohh no you don’t. I know we’re close and all, but if he knew that I helped pick something like that out for you, he’d probably hurt me.”

“Oh don’t be silly! I’d never let that happen, bsides, it’s not like you’re gonna see me in it, I just really need you to help me get the right ones for the occasion! I’ll buy you a new video game if you do.”

“Well, if you promise he won’t hurt me, I guess I can agree with that”

“Yay! You’re the best!”

You and Kakyoin walk into the lingerie store. This place is so unfamiliar to the both of you. You can see the discomfort on Kakyoin’s face just by being around all of this stuff.

“Relax Kakyoin, we'll be out of here real quick, just tell me what you think he’d like.”

“Well, he always gets you gifts with star patterns ahem, so maybe start there.”

“Good idea! Hmm, how about this one!” You exclaim as you pick up the specimen in question. This matching set is black mesh with silver and purple stars all across it.

“You know y/n, something tells me he’s going to absolutely love that one.”

“You think? I wonder why he seems to like stars?”

“Yeah, I wonder…”

Kakyoin walks you home and you continue to talk about the current situation. He assures you that everything’s going to be just fine and not to stress about it.

“Thanks for walking me home Kak, and thanks for everything else today to.” You say smiling and waving goodbye.

“It’s no problem y/n, just don’t forget about that game you owe me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. How about we go get it next Saturday and we can catch up.” You chuckle.

“Sounds like a date.”

You’ve got your new set, and you’re really excited to try it on, all while being nervous about the day you actually plan to wear it.

It’s okay. I got this, everything is going to be juuust fine.

Friday morning rolls along. You feel nervous but you put your new outfit on today to give yourself a confidence boost. Jotaro finds you at your locker and comes up to talk to you.

“Hey y/n, I wanted to talk to you about tonight actually.” Jotaro says with wide eyes as he notices the new top you’re wearing.

“Oh hey, what’s up, we're still on for it?”

“Of course, I just wanted to mention that it’s just going to be us tonight. My mom and the old man are going on a trip for the weekend. I was curious if you wanted to stay the night or whatever, it’s no big deal if you don’t want to.”

“A sleepover? With you? That sounds like a dream come true.” You smile, “but if you fall asleep before me, don’t expect to wake up without a mustache now.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He laughed.”

“Yeah I’ll come meet you at your locker after my last exam then! Can we swing by my house first? I’ll need to pack an overnight bag, but then I’ll be good to go.”

“Yare yare daze, you don’t have one already?”

“Oh hush, maybe next time don’t tell me when I’m already at school.” You joked. You figured this whole time he was going to ask you to spend the night, but you didn’t want to look overly eager or tip him off that you've been preparing for tonight with Kakyoin.

Jotaro walks you to your house after school. You go up into your room and pretend to put together a bag for the night. It’d look too suspicious if you walked out already with the bag you had made in preparation for tonight.

You nervously walk down the stairs to meet Jotaro.

“Got enough stuff?” He asks, looking at your rather large bag.

“Well, I wasn’t sure what I’d need over there so I just figured I’d bring it all haha.”

You walk into Jotaro’s house and your chest starts to feel heavy. You’ve been here a hundred times. But nothing like this was ever going to happen. You take your shoes off and head up to Jotaro’s room to drop off your bag. You notice that he’s already following behind you.

“You know y/n, I actually made a new playlist the other day, I was wondering if you wanted to listen through it with me?”

“Oh! Okay, that sounds like fun! We can sit on the floor of your room and listen to it.”

You get yourself situated in his room and lay down on the floor next to his bed with your legs crossed and propped up onto the bed. He looks down at you and smiles, you’ve never looked so beautiful to him.

“What are you thinking about Jotaro?” You say as you pat the floor next to you.

“It’s nothing,” he replies, only thinking about what the night holds for the two of you.

He lays next to you on the floor and begins the playlist he made.

“So I found a few new songs the other day and they all kind of reminded me of you so I wanted to share them with you. Don’t laugh at me though.”

“Are you kidding? That’s like the sweetest thing ever, but I’ll probably still tease you about this haha.”

“Yare yare daze, why do I even out up with you, now hush and listen to this one already, wouldya?”

The most beautiful song starts to play, you hang onto each word sung through an enchanting melody.

“What’s this song called?”

“It’s The Ballad of Love and Hate, it really makes me think of you y/n.”

You sit there and listen to the rest of the song with him. You feel him grab your hand giving it a nice squeeze at the important lyrics.

”I’m yours and that’s it, forever

You’re mine and that’s it, forever”

“So yeah, anyway I guess that one makes me think of you.” He says through blushing cheeks. He tries to turn away before you catch him but he wasn’t quick enough.

“......... Jotaro, I love you too.” You reply, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

Jotaro grabs you and pulls you on top of him. You stare into his deep aqua eyes, sharing the same lustful look. He gently moves his fingers towards your face to coarse a stray piece of hair behind your ear, and then pulls your head forward in the same instant until your lips are on his. You’ve kissed before, plenty of times, but none were this long or temptatious. You snap back out of your own thoughts to the sudden sensation of his free hand drifting down your back and then under your skirt to grab your ass.

You take in a sharp inhale from the sudden shock, only to reply with more aggressive kissing whilst straddling his lap. You notice something rubbing up against your thighs, an unfamiliar feeling but not hard to figure out. You look up at Jotaro to see him immediately look away, trying to hide his blushing face.

“Y/N, I-I’m sorry, we don’t have to do th-..”

You cut him off abruptly with another kiss.

I was right! I knew something like this was bound to happen. I’m ready.

You can do this. You hyped yourself up all week.

“Don’t be sorry about it,” you managed to sneak out through your locked lips, “I want to do this.” You say quietly yet assertively as you gently stroke his lap with your hips.

You quickly see Joatro’s eyes turn into two pools of lust as he registers the words that just left your mouth. He pulls you into a passionate exchange of tongue and slides both of his hands up your top and under your carefully selected bra. He quickly brushes his fingers across your nipples and you buck your hips sharply against his. You can feel yourself getting wetter underneath your clothes.

“Oh, did I find a sensitive spot?” He says wryly.

You buck your hips again in response and watch as he holds in a sound of his own.

“Oh, are you sensitive too?” You say, poorly holding back a smile.

Jotaro takes your shirt off after asking you if he could. His eyes were immediately drawn to your chest.

“You think you’re clever or something?

Jotaro notices the bra that you carefully selected for tonight. He acts like he is unpleased by it, but you know he loves it. Realizing the thought that you put into this turns him on even more.

Jotaro wraps one of his legs around yours so he can quickly flip you over, laying you down on your back now, while he hovers over your topless body. Your face fills with red as he looks down upon you. He moves in to caress your erect breast with his tongue. You bite your lips to keep in the noises you want to make. He leaves a trail of burning kisses down your stomach and pushes your skirt up around your waist.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Jotaro slowly starts to slide off your panties without taking his eyes off of yours. The butterflies start to flutter even faster in your stomach. The anticipation is almost unbearable. Jotaro starts to spread your legs apart and you gladly help him. He takes his hand and gently starts to massage around your vagina, trying to figure everything out. As he sensually moves his fingers around he can pick up the more sensitive parts watching how your face reacts to his touches. Getting everything he needed, he carefully pushes two fingers in as you abruptly arch your back in response. He pulls his fingers out slowly and inserts them back in just as deep, but this time moves his thumb around what he figured out to be your clit. He positions his mouth on top of your clit while he continues to move his fingers back and forth. You’ve never felt pleasure like this before.

You push Jotaro’s head back a little bit and he looks up at you a bit confused.

“I think it’s my turn”

Jotaro sits up and starts to unbuckle his first belt.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Positive,” you say as he finishes the second belt.

He pulls off his boxers and for the first time you can see it.

Holy shit it’s so big! How am I supposed to handle this?! Just take a deep breath.

You scoot yourself closer to him, and firmly grasp his member. His face quickly tensens up. You start to move your hand up and down his cock. He pulls your head in to kiss you and then subtly notions you to move your mouth elsewhere. You take a deep breath before you give in to his desire.

You open your mouth and place your lips gently around the head of his dick and lick the tip of it. He drops his head back and lets out a pleasureful sigh. You start to suck and move your head up and down a little bit, focusing on the head for the time being. You start to venture lower until you can’t fit anymore in your throat, and decide to take care of the rest with one hand, using the other to stabilize yourself.

Jotaro grabs you underneath your arms and pulls you up to meet him face to face.

“Everything alright?” You worriedly asked.

“It’s more than alright, in fact it’s too good. I had to stop you before you made me finish.” He says with a sheepish smile. “Do you maybe wanna move to the bed?”

You move in to give him a kiss and nod your head in agreement. Jotaro sits up and picks you up and sets you down on the bed on your back. He sits down next to you and pulls a condom out of the bedside table and looks over at you.

“You still want this?”

“Only for a while now.”

He rips open the condom and carefully sets it on top of his head and slides it all the way down with shaking fingers. You open your legs just enough for him to kneel in between them. Jotaro slowly lines himself up with your entrance as he doesn’t want to hurt you when he notices your current position.

“Why are you covering your face with your arms y/n?”

“Don’t look! I don’t want to make an ugly face in front of you!”

“What are you talking about? You could never make any face I wouldn’t want to look at. Besides, I want to see your face to make sure I’m not hurting you. I want to see the look in your eyes that lets me know you feel just as good as I do.”

You start to tear up. Jotaro always knows how to make you feel so beautiful. He then takes one of your hands in his while he places the other on your hip as a guide for himself, and you place your free hand on his forearm.

Jotaro starts to ever so gently push his way in as you begin to bite your lip, holding back all sounds. He pushes forward even more and he can feel your grip on his forearm getting even tighter as he finally pushes all the way in.

“Are you okay?? Do I need to stop? Your nails are digging into my arm.”

You let out a deep sigh and release your grip on his arm. “Oh I’m sorry! Please don’t stop for me!”

He slowly begins to pull back out, watching all the ways your face moves while doing so. He thought he was turned on earlier, but that feeling was nothing compared to this.

He pushes in again a little bit quicker than before. Your face shows some signs of mild discomfort but you assure him that you’re okay. It’s your first time, you're still getting used to his massive size.

After a short amount of time passes you both start to get the hang of things and pick up the pace. The little discomfort you felt is now gone. The lewd sounds of pleasure leaving your mouth will never leave his mind.

“Oh Jotaro! Fuck! It’s so good.”

“Ffu- fuck y/n!”

“I think I’m cu-!” right as you’re about to finish your statement, deep waves of pleasure wash over your body. You’ve never felt anything this strong before.

Jotaro tries to push through your own orgasm, the throbbing of your insides making it tighter for him. Right after your own orgasm Jotaro quickly realizes he’s also about to cum and picks up the pace.

“Oh shit of fuck y/n I’m about to cum to!” He shouts, only seconds later his own wave of pleasure washes over him as he pulls out and flops over on the side of you pulling you into his big arms to come down from his high with you.

“Jotaro?” You ask, “was it good?”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of this with you y/n, I love you.”

Jotaro gets up out of bed to clean up his mess, while you put yourself back together and into your pajamas. He returns to his room seeing you laying in his bed waiting for him to come back to you.

“Now this is a sight I could get used to seeing.” He scoffed.

“Oh shut up and come hold me already. Let’s watch a movie and go to sleep.”

Jotaro delightfully accepts his orders and wraps you into his arms.

“How about I put an aquarium live stream on, I tend to find those so relaxing to sleep to.”

“Yeah okay! I’ll give it a shot.”

----Meanwhile Somewhere Else-----

“You think Jotaro’s staying out of trouble?” Holly asks.

“Do you think he’s staying out of trouble?” Joseph retorts.

“Do the thing! I brought this spare camera so you could check up on him!”

“Now Holly, do you think that’s a good idea? He’s a grown boy now, let him have some privacy dear.”

“Pleasee daddy!?”

“Okay fine, but only this one time, you need to give him some space now that he’s growing up.”

“Okay, I promise!”

Joseph smashes the camera to get a single image of the house while Jotaro is alone there. After a couple of minutes go by, the image finally develops and Joseph takes the first look at it. All he can see is clothes strung across the floor and the wrapper for a used condom.

“Anything I need to worry about??” Holly asks.

“No dear, everything is just fine. Jotaro is a fine, responsible young man.” He answers through a red face.

#jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro #jotaro kujo #jjba #jjba x reader #jojosbizzareadventure

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Serendipity (Reid Fic) Part 1

A/N: If you’re wondering if this is at all based on Rosie and Marco’s storyline in “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” then you should know - it totally is.

Summary: An FBI gathering brings Reader and Spencer together after years of distance. This one night changes not only their future, but their perspective on the past. Category: Angst, Smut, *NSFW content Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Mentions of traumatic childhood, child neglect, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, menstruation, pregnancy Word Count: 10.2k

I originally thought I would be able to fit everything into 1 part, but after further reconsideration, this will be a two part series.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Serendipity: (n). Finding something good without looking for it.

A word I would only come to truly understand many months from now on a warm Thursday morning in May at St. Mary’s Hospital.

But whenever my thoughts drifted back towards the past, I would always remember that this was how it all began - on a chilly Saturday night in the heart of D.C.

Not more than four hours ago, Emilia and I drove down here for an F.B.I function that hired us. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t have agreed to be the caterers for an event so far away, but we eventually signed on after learning that there were at least 600 people attending. That meant a considerable amount of customers and an exorbitant amount of money. Saying yes was clearly a no brainer.

Just to put it into perspective of how big this event would be, Emilia and I got lucky if we could park somewhere with 80 customers. 80. So this event would be colossal for us.

But who would have guessed that in a crowd of 600, I would run into the one and only - Spencer Reid.

To preface, this wasn’t just any old birthday party, parade, or festival. It was a celebration and a grand one at that. Considering it was a private event at the Washington Monument, we were given special instructions to abide by the black-tie formal dress code that guests had to follow, too. I guess the caterers can’t look like slobs in the United States’ Capitol, now can they?

I definitely spent more time than I should have deciding on what outfit to wear, but my conscientiousness, or rather indecisiveness, did pay off in the end. For I would run into someone worth the trouble of impressing.

My hair, unlike Emilia’s, was down and curled in big waves, and on one side, some of my hair was tucked behind my ear and designed to stay that way thanks to copious amounts of hairspray and an ungodly total of bobby pins. Emilia lent me a black, floor-length dress that had a plunging v-neck that didn’t fit her anymore, but luckily, fit perfectly on me. Although I would have to remember not to lean over too far tonight, otherwise, the customers might get a show they didn’t pay for. I, however, didn’t look half so good as my business partner.

Emilia was clad in a navy blue silk dress with puffy sleeves and a high collar; the dress clung to her every curve, including her newly protruding belly bump. She looked regal and pregnant all at the same time, qualities I hadn’t seen coexist in anyone but the Queens and Duchesses in England.

“Well, don’t you look hot?” Emilia purred, running her fingers through my curls, then letting them fall and sway back into place.

“Are you kidding? You are quite literally a sexy mama.” I gushed to her, receiving a light chuckle in return.

“Yeah, well, when you’re five months pregnant, tell me how sexy you feel in a tight dress.” She remarked, turning her back to me while she arranged all the supplies in the kitchenette behind me. But even as she faced away from me, she still managed to recognize the effect her words had. Maybe it was something in my silence, or our sister-telepathy, but Emilia immediately felt the room depress. In an effort to take back the remark that turned the room cold, she sweetly added while hugging me from behind, “You’re gonna be a mom one day, too. I promise.”

I leaned into her embrace, feeling guilty for ruining the moment while also feeling burdened by the reminder of the terrible reality I had to face every day.

Ever since I could remember, I thought I was destined to be a mother, but that destiny had yet to be fulfilled.

Emilia was born only three years after me, and though that age gap isn’t big enough for me to be mistaken for her mother, I, she, and our younger brother Saul would all agree that in many ways I was their mom. I was the parent our parents never were. I was there for everything - soccer games, dance recitals, winter musicals - never getting the chance to participate in my own, but always attending their’s.

I had to admit sometimes it was a burden, having to grow up so fast and help raise my siblings while still trying to navigate through my own struggles of adolescence, but I saw it as something I was meant to do.

See, I wouldn’t have minded all the responsibilities of being a parent so much when it’d be my own kids that I’d be fulfilling them for - when it would be by my choice to fulfill those responsibilities and not by unfortunate birth order.

However, as the years have gone by, my calling to be a mother has gotten quieter and quieter and quieter until eventually, I don’t think I’ll be able to hear it anymore.

It’s not that I can’t have kids, but the fear of rushing into having one is what’s stopped me from pursuing that dream.

As someone who grew up with divorced parents and practically became my siblings only reliable caregiver, I knew what having a baby too soon could do to a family. So rather than repeating history, I chose to wait to have kids. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes my parents did, and so I lived my life. I traveled all across the globe, I met new people, tried new things, I even started this taco truck business with Emilia.

But still that gaping hole in my chest remained. A hole that nothing could ever fill the way that a child would.

No amount of living could make up for the emptiness of a life with no family.

I could pretend all I wanted that I was happy living out my twenties, but the truth was I didn’t want to spend the rest of my years working in a food truck, amounting to nothing more than a mediocre cook and middling entrepreneur. That was never my dream - as exciting as it was.

My real dream was to have a good life. The kind my parents never had thanks to the unplanned arrival of me. The kind my baby sister was already living out.

“You know what? It’s a really nice night out. I think I might go for a walk. Do you wanna come?” Was this my blatant avoidance of breaching the subject of pregnancy? Yes, but it was also my escape from this food truck that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller and smaller by the second.

“No, I’m okay. I’ll just get everything ready.” Emilia resigned.

She knew why I was really leaving - sister-telepathy, I’m telling you - but she didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. For that, I was thankful. Maybe we were better at communicating with no words at all.

I carefully stepped off the back of the truck, making sure to hike up my dress high enough so I wouldn’t trip over the mess of fabric when my feet hit the floor. The nippy December air felt like a cool balm on my hot skin. I was burning up in that truck, and maybe it was nerves or something else, but I just had this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was no explanation for it, but I realize now that the pit in my stomach was caused by something my intuition could sense but something my mind couldn’t understand.

Someone important from my past was here tonight.

As I sauntered around the monument, I took in the breathtaking view of the structure’s silhouette against the blazing orange sky that melted into an ocean blue. I regretted not bringing my phone to take a picture of it so I could show Emilia when I got back, but that one regret quickly turned into another when the night sky’s breeze brought a rude awakening. My body shivered at the frigid gust of wind that blew through and I suddenly started to regret not bringing a jacket.

“Are you cold?” A gentle voice asked me from behind.

I slightly recoiled out of shock of someone being there. When I turned around though, I couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features. All I knew for sure was that this was certainly a man, and a tall one, too.

“Um, just a little.” I bashfully admitted, crossing my arms to hug myself and maintain some warmth. I hadn’t even thought about my dress’s plunging v-neck or the fact that I was practically squeezing my breasts together, accentuating them even further, but by the time, I realized, it was too late. He was already looking. But not at my chest. Somewhere far more invasive.

My eyes.

“Here, take my jacket.”

My small protests did nothing to stop him as he inevitably slipped the coat around my shoulders anyway. He’d come so close that I could finally see him and smell him. And let me tell you, if the sight of him wasn’t enough to break an overflowing dam of memories, then his smell certainly sent a flood that would.

“Oh my god,” I quietly gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to cover its un-ladylike gaping.

“Spencer Reid?”

I squinted my eyes and cocked my head even further to find evidence to support my assumption, and sure enough, I found exactly what I was looking for.

I was frozen in place as I deeply examined his face. My God! I mean, in many ways, he hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I saw him. Same dazzling hazel eyes. Same uniquely adorable nose. Same over-stimulated pink lips. I wonder if he still bit them as much as he did back then?

But at the same time, he was so different. Of course, I could still discern the same features I used to study endlessly back then, but his face had transformed into a man’s. He lost the glasses for one thing, but he also had a softer jawline, longer hair, and for lack of a better term, a beefier build.

He was all grown up now, and yet, I could still identify the same boyishly handsome charm that made me fall in love with him more than a decade ago.

“I knew it was you, (y/n).” He chuckled, sounding half proud of himself. My heart fluttered at the sound of my name on his tongue and the action that followed. With his eyes locked on mine, he tucked strands of my hair back behind my ears; it’s as if he were saying, “Let me get a good look at you.”

“How? It’s almost completely dark outside. You could barely even see me.” Certainly, you can understand why I was skeptical. Sounded too good to be true, if you ask me.

He shook his head lightly with a smile, seemingly questioning how I couldn’t possibly know the answer to that question. “No one else looks like you. Not even in the dark.”

His words spoke to a part of my soul specifically reserved for him. They were so genuine that I almost didn’t want to believe them because how could someone speak such lovely things and truly mean them? The world wasn’t that good a place. Certainly not good enough for Spencer Reid.

In that moment, I flew out of my own body and watched this entire scene unfold from up above. I could see the version of a girl I hadn’t seen in years, not since that last interaction with Spencer. She had these big lovesick eyes as she swooned over a man with just the same lovesick look.

The excessive upward tilt of my head and the way his neck craning down must’ve made it seem like we were about to kiss, but I knew better than to expect such a thing from Spencer Reid. And if anything, what we were doing right now was much more intimate than kissing.

“Wow, you ... you really grew up. You look great.” My own voice sounded unfamiliar to me after the words slipped from my mouth without even registering in my brain first.

“Are you kidding? Look at you! I mean, you are just ...” He paused for a moment to look me up and down, and I nearly shivered at the thought that he was practically undressing me with his eyes. “You’re absolutely beautiful. But you always were.”

I was almost completely in a daze when I heard a hideous squawk of a bird flying overhead. This wouldn’t make sense, but it nearly felt like a sign. Like the bird knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, reminding me of where I belonged - reality - not in this fantasy with Spencer.

“Um,” My head spun as I drew back from him. “I should probably get back. I’ll see you later.” I touched his upper arm gently as I passed by him, and it stunned me how warmth just radiated off of his body.

To my all too quick goodbye, he simply waved and watched me walk past him with a pursed-lip smile. And just before I got too far, I thought I heard him say, “I hope so.”

Though my feet were carrying me away from Spencer, my thoughts were only drifting closer to the memory of him, and we did have so many memories.

11 Years Ago ...

I was at the ripe age of 16 when I got my driver’s license. And to anyone else, this would seem like a given milestone, but to me - it was so much more. With the obtainment of my license, I also gained access to a whole new world. Opportunities poured at the seams. I could drive anyone and anywhere I wanted to and though it wasn’t true, it felt like I could do anything, too. But like all things good in my life, it fell apart in the face of responsibilities.

My newly obtained license was just another way for my parents to exploit me. Now, they didn’t have to drive Emilia and Saul since I could. Looking back, I have to wonder if the only reason they funded my driver’s ed classes were for the exact reason that if I took them, I’d sooner be able to take on yet another helping of duties they were too lazy to fulfill.

There’s one particular moment I can remember from this age and that same moment could also be regarded as the catalyst that would set off a series of events for the next 11 years to come.

It was the end of the school year and summer vacation was right around the corner. I was a sophomore at the time, and the prospect of being a junior the next year excited me.

To kick off the start of summer, Melody Hanes was throwing a pool party at her house. Everyone knew she was filthy rich because of a dead grandpa or some other, not to mention, she was also in student government so she had just as big of a role in school as her grandpa’s death did in making the Hanes family wealthy.

Though I never knew her personally, I did have third period chemistry with her for the entire year, and I sat right in front of her for pretty much the entirety of second semester. She must’ve only addressed me a handful of times, but she still invited me to her party anyway. Proximity, I had to admit, did play a part in that though because if I sat just a seat farther away, then I wouldn’t have been.

I came home that day, thrilled to tell my mother about my invitation. It would’ve been my first party that wasn’t a distant relative’s birthday celebration or a childish sleepover in elementary. It was my first real high school party, and for once, I thought - maybe I’d finally get the quintessential ‘high school experience.’

But of course, I never did.

As soon as I got home, I parked my car in the driveway, got the mail, and came inside the house to see my mother sitting on the couch watching TV, as per usual. While I was telling her about my invitation, she didn’t bother to lower the volume or even look away from the screen to give me her undivided attention, and when she did look away, it was only to take the mail from my hands.

“Your sister’s science fair is on that day, and you have to take her because I’ll be working from 1 to 7.” My mother never once looked up from the mail she was sorting through to address me. And her words, while incredibly monotone, were also spoken with such finality, like what she said was the last she ever wanted to speak on the topic. No room for discussion.

I’m not still losing sleep over it, but at the time, it felt like for once, I could actually just be a teenager and be young and reckless like everyone else, but that it was just taken from me. I never got the chance to be a kid again.

With the exception of Emilia’s science fair.

I knew my father wouldn’t be there, and obviously my mother wouldn’t, so I stayed to watch her presentation and to walk around the rest of the time. She deserved someone in her corner, and that someone was me. Even if no one was in mine.

As I serpentined through the cafeteria, a bittersweet feeling came upon me. From paper mâché volcanoes to potato batteries, I observed a childlike sense of wonder that I hadn’t felt for years.

Here, I was surrounded by children who got to be just children. They got to occupy themselves with trivial matters, like how gardens grow or if video games actually do rot your brain.

Their problems had solutions and their questions had answers, and it almost made me wish that I could revert back to a time where life was that easy, but I couldn’t because it never was … not for me.

So to sum it up, it was precious and heartbreaking all at the same time.

While browsing the fair, I stumbled upon a man that didn’t quite seem to fit in, and maybe it was my own unfitting appearance that made me recognize his. He could’ve very well been the brother of one of these children, but something about the way he was dressed and the way he carried himself made me highly doubt that.

He couldn’t have been a parent either, for he was not too far off from my own age, and if he was a parent of one of these eighth graders, that would have to mean that he had a kid when he was in kindergarten. So for all intents and purposes, he wasn’t someone’s brother or someone’s father. Who he actually was - I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

After that first observance, I spotted him a couple more times, but it wasn’t until we were looking at the same project that we actually spoke.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The sudden sound of his voice alarmed me, but only because it seemingly came out of nowhere. Generally, before someone speaks to you, you notice signals that they’re about to, which helps you prepare for conversation. Whether it’s nervous twitches, a look in your direction, maybe even a small acknowledging smile, you’ll recognize they want to or plan to talk to you, but none of those signs were given to me. Even when I turned my head to give him my attention, he was still fixated on the project in front of us.

“Yeah, it really is,” I politely agreed. I awkwardly looked around the room as if I’d find an answer as to what to say next because I did want to keep talking to him, but the longer I stayed silent, the more I fear he’d begin to think I didn’t want to. With nothing else to ask but the question that had been bothering me since I first laid eyes on him, I simply went for it.

“So, who are you here for?”

For the first time, he turned his head to the side to look right at me. With a quizzical expression, he responded. “Oh, no one. I’m just a judge here.”

It was my turn to possess a quizzical expression. His statement wouldn’t have been weird, except for the part where any judge I’d seen or talked to were all well into their forties or fifties.

“Aren’t you kinda young to be a judge? You’re, like, what? Seventeen, eighteen?

“Nineteen actually. But I regularly come to judge the Summer Science Fairs here since I went to this middle school eleven years ago.”

Again, I would’ve taken his word for it, but the math didn’t make sense. “You were in middle school at eight years old?”

“Mhm. I ended up graduating high school at twelve.” He said it so nonchalantly, but for how big of a feat it was, I thought it would’ve deserved a more prideful tone, yet he still maintained such a cavalier one. Did he not think himself to be impressive?

“Jeez, you must be really smart.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, which made me notice that he wasn’t carrying a clipboard like the other judges, which was probably another reason why I didn’t take him for one. How would he be able to remember the projects that he was considering for awards? He’d have to have some magical memory for that.

Before answering, he began to walk away, but nonetheless he continued addressing me, so I followed him where he went.

“Mmm not necessarily. My IQ isn’t high enough to suggest I’m a provable genius yet, but I do have an eidetic memory and I can currently read 16,000 words per minute, which definitely helps. I hope to be able to read 20,000 words per minute in the future.”

Despite answering my question, he only left me with many more.

“What is your IQ right now?”

“131.”

My eyes widened. Even I, with my limited knowledge on intelligence quotients knew that was high, especially for someone as young as he was.

“So what IQ score do you have to have in order to be considered a genius?”

I couldn’t help but notice how he barely took anytime to think before answering me. It’s like his brain just knew everything, right then and there.

“A score of over 140 is considered a genius or near genius.”

“Wow, so you’re almost a genius then?”

“Almost, but not quite. If I receive diverse stimulation at a consistent rate for the next few years, I predict that I’ll have an IQ of 180 or higher by the time I’m in my early twenties.”

You would think he would leave me speechless, but I still went on to ask him about what an eidetic memory was, and he explained to me that he could remember things exceedingly well, but that it was not the same thing as a photographic memory. He made that distinction very clear to me.

Our conversation droned on for the rest of the fair as we continued to circle the cafeteria. I can’t count how many times we lapped around the same projects, but we never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Once those first few seconds after meeting him, when I didn’t know what to say, passed, I never again felt a sense of not knowing. We could talk for hours and hours, and it wouldn’t matter. I would never get bored.

How could I? When I was with him, it felt like the rest of the world just faded away. Our discourse flowed so easily, no pressure, no awkward silence. It was just me and him, and if you ask me, that’s quite the opposite of boring.

That was the first and final time I ever truly felt like a kid. Just like the ones in the science fair. Not a care in the world except for my morbid curiosity of the marvel that was him.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and I inevitably found myself being ripped out of my trance when I felt an aggressive tug on my sweater.

“We can go now.” Emilia interrupted.

I hadn’t even noticed that a majority of the poster boards were taken down and that an even larger majority of the people were long gone, too. I got so lost in the conversation that I didn’t realize we were one of the last people still there.

Emilia’s eagerness to leave was apparent as she pulled me away from my interesting conversationalist.

“I had a nice time talking to you!” I called out to him, walking backwards to lengthen the period of time I could keep looking at him.

“Likewise.”

I turned around fully just before I finally realized something. “Hey!” I yelled across the distance. “I never got your name!”

He bashfully smiled and looked down at his feet briefly. “It’s Spencer! Spencer Reid!”

I stood there for a moment, silently processing his name.

“What’s yours?” He yelled back.

I chuckled mischievously. “I guess you’ll have to find out next time.” My ambiguity puzzled him and intrigued him all at the same time.

“Next time?”

With the intentions of leaving him without a true answer, I simply turned on my heels and started walking away.

“Bye, Spencer!”

Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, I knew after that first day, he could never forget me.

- Present Time -

By the time I made it back to the truck, people were already lining up to order.

“Get over here!” Emilia squealed excitedly from the window, her hand rapidly waving me over as if it’d suddenly increase my speed. I ran back as fast as I could in a dress and heels and climbed into the truck, mirroring my sister’s zeal.

When I stepped in, Emilia took one glance at me and furrowed her brows. “Where’d you get the jacket?”

Had she not mentioned it, I would not have remembered the foreign fabric that wrapped around my shoulders.

“Oh, shoot!” I palmed my forehead after the realization dawned on me. I should’ve noticed sooner that I still had it on, but honestly, it didn’t feel unusual or out of place. It was comfortable and familiar, like it was meant to be there that entire time.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but do you think you can handle this alone for just a second? I have to return this to a friend.” I asked while slipping off the coat to ready myself to leave, even in the event that Emilia said she wouldn’t let me go. Luckily though, she understood it was urgent.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Just hurry back.”

I extended my head to look out just past the side of the truck to look for Spencer while still being concealed within the vehicle. Now that there were more people here, I wasn’t exactly sure I should be caught mingling with the attendees, so instead, I decided to search for him from the truck, rather than wandering around the party, giving the impression to the people that hired us that I wasn’t doing my job and was just here to socialize.

Luckily, there was something about my attachment to Spencer that was supernatural. I had this metaphysical ability to spot him even in a crowded place. I could find him anywhere. But whether that was a blessing or a curse was to be determined because right as my paranormal power kicked in, I found him. And there he was - standing next to another girl, a proximity much too close and a smile much too big to be anything less than flirtatious.

I paused to recall the image I had of myself earlier, when I floated up and out of my own body. I looked just like her - an oversized grin combined with lovesick eyes.

But that’s not the worst part.

The worst part was he was returning just the same look of attraction to her.

“Um, actually,” I re-entered the truck completely, tossing the jacket aside haphazardly. “I’ll just return it later.”

“You sure? You can go. I’ve got things covered right now.” She said between multitasking at a rate that even I, a very-much-not-pregnant-woman, could manage.

All I could mutter back without giving away the sharp ache in my heart was, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

_ _ _

After hours and hours of non-stop working, the night, at last, was coming to a close. The large crowd had sized down considerably, until I could no longer hear the sound of a thousand voices meshing. All the decorations were already coming down by the time Emilia and I finished packing up the truck. Without the hectic energy to cause adrenaline to course through my veins, it should’ve been peaceful, yet my heart was not at peace.

I couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling of seeing Spencer with that girl, but that wasn’t really why I was upset. It was more about the fact that I’d actually believed for a second that I had any chance with him. I should’ve known he wasn’t single, and the fact that I let myself swoon over him again angered me all the more. If I ever had a chance with Spencer, the time to act on it was long gone.

Now, I had to live with that.

“You sure you wanna stay here alone? I’ll come with you if you want me to.”

Emilia’s question was referring to my proposal to stay in D.C for the night while she drove home. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I realized I couldn’t handle being in another suffocating car ride with Emilia. It had nothing to do with her - just that I needed alone time to process everything by myself. If I knew my sister as well as I thought I did, I knew she would’ve sensed something was wrong and tried to coax me into talking about it, which I was not in the mood to do. Plus, traveling for so long made me nauseous just thinking about it. Although, I didn’t have a plan, I knew that I just wanted to hail a cab and find a hotel somewhere here for the night.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Call me when you get home.” I tapped on the back of the truck twice to let her know she was good to drive away, and I felt the car lurch forward per my request. When the truck finally did move, out from behind it appeared the tall figure of none other than Spencer.

I was surprised, but only for a second, when that surprise turned into pain once more. Playing it cool so my afflictions wouldn’t be suspected, I nonchalantly stated, “Here’s your jacket, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to give it back to you earlier.”

I extended my arm far enough so that we’d still have a great distance between us when he went to grab it, but sure enough, my actions were all for naught when he not only refused to remove his hands from his pockets to take it but also walked two steps closer to me than he needed to be. I looked like an idiot just standing there with my arm so outstretched, only for him to not grab it and to let it simply press against his stomach as a complete avoidance of getting it back.

“You were supposed to keep it. That’s why I didn’t ask for it back.” He curtly replied, finishing his statements with a cheeky grin. However, I wasn’t in the mood to return it. I simply stood there and shook the jacket in my hand to emphasize its presence.

“Take it. Please.” My voice was full of contradictions. I tried to be assertive with my command, and yet my plead only softened the order and showed a defeat I wasn’t even aware of until I heard how sad it sounded. “I don’t want it, Spencer.”

He no doubt saw the shift in my demeanor but still wouldn’t pacify me by taking the jacket. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” His voice got quieter, as if speaking any louder would shatter me in this fragile state of being.

“Nothing, I’m just tired and I want to go home.” This wasn’t a complete lie. I was exhausted from working for hours and hours on my feet with no breaks in between, but it wasn’t exactly the full truth either. He could tell.

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” He persisted. “Please.”

The only way I could describe what I happened next was like the vision of a boiling pot. Gradually, I was heating up until I finally got so overheated that I just boiled over and exploded.

“What don’t you get, Spencer? I don’t want your jacket!” Fury consumed my tone. “And I don’t think your girlfriend would want that either.”

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? What are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend!” His words were flying out of his mouth at 100 mph as he desperately trying to mend what couldn’t be fixed.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you with that blonde girl. How close you two were standing, the way you were looking at each other.” Just having to recount the interaction made the horrid memory come back vividly into the forefront of my thoughts, and it broke my heart all over again. I shut my eyes painfully as though it would turn off the image of them together, but this only allowed for Spencer to wrap his warm hands around my upper arms and pull me closer to him without my knowing. I flinched unconsciously at the sudden feeling of his touch, to which he instantly let go.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hands shook with remorse for letting them touch my body in a way that elicited that reaction. They hovered in the space between us, not knowing where to go that would suddenly make things okay. “But she’s no one, okay? She’s just a coworker.”

I wanted to believe him. I quite possibly did believe him, but there was still a sharp pain in my chest. Call it intuition.

“No, she’s not,” I shook my head. “She’s not ‘no one’... you love her.”

Spencer came closer but still didn’t let himself touch me again out of fear that I might draw back even further.

“Listen to me - whatever feelings I used to have for her are long gone. She’s married, (y/n). She has a kid. And none of that even matters because the way that I used to love her is nothing compared to the way that I-”

“Don’t.” I held my hand up in protest. “Don’t say you love me.”

His eyebrows knit together with dismay. “Why? Why not? It’s true. I love you. I always have.”

With one big sigh, I finally resigned to my emotions. “Then why didn’t you ever do something about it?”

Judging by the deflation of his shoulders and the far off look he got in his eyes, he knew exactly the moment I was talking about.

Two days after Emilia’s science fair, I drove to the library to pick up books I needed for my summer homework. I was already on my way out when I just happened to glance to my side, noticing a lone figure sitting at the bus stop. I didn’t think anything of it, but when I looked back, I partially recognized him. I shaded my eyes from the sun and squinted harder to confirm my suspicions.

“Spencer?” I wondered out loud.

The figure’s head turned around, narrowed their eyes, and waved. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to me with a precious little jog-walk. Although we had only met once before, we still embraced each other like lifelong friends.

“Do I finally get to know your name now?” He jokingly inquired after pulling away.

It completely slipped my mind that I’d denied him the knowledge of my name, but for my own satisfaction, I wouldn’t let him get off that easily.

“Do you have any guesses of it could be?”

He pouted childishly. “Are you kidding? In a population of 350 million people, there would be about 4.4 million names. But if every country on Earth had the same nominative diversity we in the US have, that would suggest about 750 million unique names exist.”

I must admit it was fun watching him melt into a flustered mess of facts, but I was growing just as impatient as him. “Come on, just guess. You might be right.”

He rolled his eyes but indulged me willingly anyway. “Okay ... um ... Catherine.”

“Nope.”

“Nicole.”

“Nope.”

“Gertrude.”

“Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. “Nope.”

“Olive.”

“Pretty,” I smiled, making his face light up, too. “But no.” His smile fell.

“This is nearly impossible.” He sighed.

“Nothing’s impossible.” My delivery wasn’t as cheesy as the line itself, so it touched us both in a way that made that silly phrase feel like it’d never been said before. With a visible passion reignited in him, he continued.

“Francis.”

“Okay, maybe this is impossible.”

My blunt joke brought us closer together, our heads almost knocking into one another’s as we clutched our stomachs and leaned forward to support our all-consuming laughter. When we finally calmed down, I finally confessed.

“Okay, okay - it’s (y/n).”

He stood there completely silent. There was no expression of his face that indicated he planned on speaking, so I elaborated. “It’s not as good as the name Spencer, I know I know -”

“I’ve never known anyone with that name before.” His hushed voice cut into mine so innocently.

My cheeks heated from the slight compliment. “Well, now you do. And don’t you forget it.” I teased. With nothing further to say, I brushed past him to start walking away, when unconsciously, I spun my keys around my index finger and heard the familiar jingle of the metal, reminding me of something.

“Hey, Spencer?” I turned on my heels. “Can I give you a ride home?”

And so began our routine for the entire summer. I would bring my summer homework to the library, and Spencer would help me understand it, or even complete it, and then I’d give him a ride home. We’d go to the park and read, or we’d go to the movies, or we’d hang out at a diner. And each time, I’d drop him off.

The more time we spent together, the more I learned about him and his life. He told me about his mom, his dad - everything. I did just the same. I told him about my mom, my dad, my siblings - everything.

Perhaps we enjoyed spending so much time together because it was a sweet escape from our houses that weren’t homes. But every time we did hang out, we just got closer and closer, and by the end of the summer, I knew my feelings perfectly clear.

I love Spencer.

If missing that pool party at Melody Hanes was what it took to find the absolute love of my life, then what a small price to pay it was. I wouldn’t have traded a million pool parties for that one chance encounter with Spencer at the science fair.

One day, we were pulling into his driveway after having a picnic at the country club, and I’d just let him out of the car, when unconsciously, I said, “Bye, Spence! Love you!”

He caught the words faster than I did. He looked like a deer in headlights, and it took me at least two seconds more to figure out why. That entire day I’d been thinking about saying it, but by the end, I decided it’d be better not to, and yet, it just came out anyway.

“You love me?”

There were two ways I could’ve answered. The first was to deny it and say that I only meant that I loved him like a friend. The second was to be brave and validate my unintentional confession.

In the heat of the moment, I chose the latter.

“Yes.” I nodded, smiling from my own courage. You only live once right?

In a cruel twist of fate, Spencer never tried to speak, and instead, ran to his front door.

“Spencer!” I yelled. “What are you-”

He gave me one last look over his shoulder before he opened the door and closed it right behind him. That was the last I ever saw him.

I learned, that day, that you do only live once.

But you can die over and over again.

From that point on, he’s lived in my mind as the one that never was.

Regret and shame manifested on Spencer’s face. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He dejectedly began. “But I was young and-and dumb and just ... so scared. God, I was so scared.” He finally looked up, if for no other reason than to gauge my reaction. “I liked you so much, but I, I just couldn’t open myself up to the possibility of being hurt by another person I loved.”

Much like my own life, Spencer’s was riddled with traumatic experiences. Except rather than being expected to take care of younger siblings, he had to take care of his mom. And having to be a parent to your own parent? That’s something I would never wish upon anyone else.

“I ... I get it.” It was a sweet surrender, my words. After years of pent-up aggression borne from humiliation, rejection, and deep sadness, I could finally understand. “But as selfish as it sounds, I wish your past hurt hadn’t gotten in the way of our potential happiness.”

He took each of my hands in his, encasing them with palms of warmth. “Then don’t let the same thing happen right now. Don’t let the stupid, broken teenager I was cloud your judgement of the man I am now. Let me prove to you that I’ve changed.”

I stood there silently, an eerie parallel to how Spencer reacted to my confession eleven years ago.

“When I saw you, it felt like a second chance. A second chance to do what I was too afraid to do back then. And I couldn’t let myself make the same mistake twice.” His eyes were piercing through my soul. Every word plucked at my heartstrings, until I could no longer keep up with the symphony they were playing.

There was the slightest hesitation behind it, but I did inch forward. And in no time at all, Spencer saw the movement and made his own.

His hands released mine and shot straight for my cheeks to cup them gently, while kissing me firmly. He wasn’t the same shy boy he was, and this kiss was only proof of that. The way his lips were moving so fervently made me weak at the knees. He was so desperate and needy, like even with our lips touching, he still wasn’t close enough to me. Unleashed upon me was years of yearning wrapped in prominent lust.

“I love you.” He blurted clumsily on my lips. I didn’t return the sentiment, but that wasn’t why he said it. He wanted to say it so I’d know, not so that I’d say it back.

“You should know,” I muttered between kisses. “I’m not leaving D.C. until tomorrow morning.”

The biggest smirk creeped onto his face. Bastard.

Once we’d exhausted all the things we could possibly do in public, we ran to the nearest cab we could find and exhausted all the things we could do in that, too.

It was already past midnight when we arrived at Spencer’s apartment, and though we should’ve been quiet so as not to disturb the neighbors, we were still breaking out into a fit of giggles like a bunch of teenagers sneaking around as we ran up the stairs. We hadn’t even made it past the doormat, before he seized my hips in his hands and spun me back towards him. Forcefully, he pressed me against the door while simultaneously unlocking it. That shut me up real good, lemme tell you.

As soon as we crossed the threshold, he gave me a reprieve when he held me closer so as to stop pinning me against the door. In an effort to do the impossible, we stumbled through his apartment in a frenzy trying to undress each other while maintaining our bodily contact. With one giant tug of the zipper on my back, my dress fell to the ground. To his atonement, he left me in just a thong. Whereas he was much too overdressed in my opinion.

No sooner did I gracelessly unbutton his shirt than we ran into a plant against the wall. Our smiles practically ruined the kiss at the sound of the crash, but it remained nonetheless. I knew I was in for something, when Spencer paused to wait for me to unbuckle his belt. That was the first time we ever really stopped in place, but just as I anticipated, I was in for it.

When I finally freed his waist of the garment, he just as quickly placed his hand on the back of my thigh, and in one swift motion, hoisted me into the air high enough to allow my legs to wrap around his waist. My arms were loose around his neck and the feeling of his warm hands touching my bare skin sent a chill down my spine.

Due to Spencer’s essential hand placement on my body, I had to be the one to fumble with his bedroom’s doorknob until it finally gave way. Once more, we staggered through his room before he let our lips break apart to lightly toss me onto the bed. I giggled at the squeak of the bed, driving him visibly crazy.

He hastily unzipped his own dress pants, while I propped myself up on my elbows. When he met me on the bed, he hovered over me to the point of having to lay back down again just to see him clearly. He felt too far away so I drew him nearer by lacing my hand through his soft curls. I twirled one around my finger, which must’ve been too merciful for him to handle.

He placed his hand on the back of mine and slid it down to his cheek. He held my hand there for a moment, leaning into the skin of my palm prior to placing a chaste kiss on it.

He didn’t need to say it again for me to know what he was thinking.

I love you.

The anticipation was killing me and in the most impatient manner, I pulled him down to my level, mimicking his similar habit of face-grabbing during a kiss. I knew his hands would’ve flown to my face the way they did just minutes ago, but one was too preoccupied keeping himself up and the other was busy toying with the band of my thong. I shivered at the sensation of him slipping one finger under the material and letting it glide over my tender skin right above my heat.

“Spencer,” I mumbled in a kiss to bring his attention back to me. Although I was certainly interested to know the hidden talents of Spencer Reid and his fingers, I was restless. I’d been waiting years for this moment, and unlike most people, I didn’t want to wait another second. “I need you now.”

He pulled his head back so he could get a full view of my face to examine my sincerity. He wanted to know if I was sure, and my eyes told him such. He nodded in acknowledgement with such speed that I was sure he was craving this as much as I was.

Rather than looking at where our bodies were about to meet, I had to close my eyes so I could fully feel everything without any other sense taking that away from me. In a painfully slow manner, he lined himself up at my entrance. At first, he only lightly pushed in, and it was this slacken movement that made me cry out and grip his shoulders for stability.

He pushed further in until he was fully sheathed inside of me. There was a slight moment of regret for not letting him engage in foreplay before, but that quickly went away when the pain turned to pleasure. He gained more confidence in himself with each stroke, and I could feel it. The more powerfully he thrust, the more I felt myself tightening around him. The over simulation was a stark contrast from the stimulation I denied and so the sensation I was feeling was only heightened by the absence of it before. For that very reason, I knew I was already close. And maybe he knew it, too and just as sweet revenge, he decided to send me over the edge by pulling my leg over his shoulder to thrust into me a new angle. As I’m sure he predicted, I threw my head back as tears began to prick the corners of my eyes. He rode the ever exquisite border between pain and pleasure, and my tears were a manifestation of that. Not even a minute passed, before I tried to moan but pathetically failed, not even being able finish the pitiful wail without the both of us finishing together.

Our heavy panting synchronized and reverberated back to us while he slowed down his pace and pulled out.

Perhaps in the heat of the moment, we lost all logic and reason, considering that even up till now, neither of us had realized that he didn’t use a condom.

But what would eventually happen in the future as a result of this action, or inaction, would surely make us remember.

Spencer lowered himself down to kiss me breathlessly; strands of his hair clung to his forehead as sweat glimmered on both of us. Not until we were ready did we make our way to the bathroom so he could help clean me up. Once we returned, I gathered my clothes, but he made sure to grab my panties before I could even notice.

“Have you seen -“ I cut myself off when I saw what was dangling in his hands.

“Looking for this?” He teased.

All my energy had been spent on him that I couldn’t be bothered to fight for them back.

“Keep ‘em.” I smirked, my hand reaching down to pick up his jacket off the floor and hold it up. “Consider it a fair trade.”

No arguments from him.

Needless to say, I did end up finding a place to stay the night. Where and with whom you might ask?

Well, you can probably figure that one out for yourself.

_ _ _

I wish I could tell you I got a good night’s rest, and I could - it just wouldn’t be the truth.

Spencer and I spent the rest of the night just talking. We filled each other in on nearly ever second of the past 11 years, and once again, I found myself reverting back to the teenager I was at the science fair. The entire world revolved around us as we spoke to each other effortlessly, like no time had passed. Even in the periods of silence, I felt comfortable.

Spencer and I were lying on our sides facing one another when I felt compelled to profess that “I can’t talk this way with anyone. It’s just you.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with a small smile on his lips. He didn’t need to say that he felt the same way because I already knew. His hand never left my face but instead made its descent down my jawline and stopped at my chin. He raised his thumb to reach my lower lip, letting the pad of his finger graze over the soft skin of my lip.

It felt like he was tracing every detail of my body, running his eyes over every inch at least twice so as to fully commit everything to his memory.

At last, the tension broke when he positioned his hand comfortably at the back of my neck, bowing his head forward to kiss me. This one was quite different than our first, for it was gentler and warmer. We weren’t forcing ourselves to make up for lost time. In fact, this kiss was saying, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Plenty of time indeed. Which we were happy to spend making love again.

And I will be the first to admit that if our first round of unprotected sex didn’t solidify our future predicament, this time certainly did.

Six Weeks Later ...

“Hello?” Clearly frustrated, Emilia waved her hand in front of my face to harness me back to earth. I hadn’t realized I zoned out until she scoffed at me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, sorry. Could you repeat it one more time?”

She set down the papers in front of her and sighed unhappily. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so distant lately.”

It hurt to hear, even though it was the truth. I wasn’t intentionally being despondent, but it’s hard to be present when there’s so much occupying your mind, and there was one thing in particular that was keeping me up late at night recently.

My period has always been irregular. For as long as I’ve had it, I’ve always missed a few weeks, then it would become consistent, then it would be sporadic again. In fact, there was one year where I only had four periods total. So it didn’t strike me as odd when I realized three days ago that my last period was about seven weeks ago.

What did strike me as odd was the other symptoms I was experiencing. Menstruation cycles are known to closely mimic the symptoms of pregnancy, but with the knowledge that my period wasn’t coming, it was disconcerting to me that I was suffering the discomforts without the actual period itself.

To me, there was only one clear explanation for this anomaly.

I was pregnant.

Earlier in the day, I bought a pregnancy test and was late to work because of it. If Emilia hadn’t been suspicious of my behavior before, showing up late only made her suspicion greater.

I didn’t know when I’d take it, probably at home after work, but the anticipation was eating away at me. I would pace around the truck until Emilia finally told me to stop because the vehicle wouldn’t stop swaying with my every movement. I was biting my nails and chewing on each little piece that grew back just to bite it back down to the nub. My hands couldn’t stop shaking, my breathing wouldn’t slow down. I was a hysterical mess.

I didn’t tell Spencer any of my concerns, of course, but being as perceptive as he is, he noticed my strange mannerisms despite my best efforts to hide them.

“Your breathing just got faster. Are you feeling okay?” He paused the movie we were watching to check in on me one time. It should be known that the scene that caused my heavier breathing was a scene of a woman finding out she was pregnant and being absolutely devastated. I quickly brushed it off as just being too warm, to which he turned on his air conditioning. Luckily for me, he didn’t make the connection.

And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell Spencer - I really did - but why should I make a fuss about something if there ended up being nothing to worry about? That would just be extra stress, and the last thing a new, blossoming relationship needs is additional strain.

So without Spencer, I had to opt for the next best thing - my sister.

I’d reached my wits end, and I couldn’t keep up the act any longer. I was walking on eggshells with practically everyone I knew, and I’d sooner go crazy if I didn’t tell someone what I was really feeling. So in response to her question, I finally told the truth.

“I think I might be pregnant.”

You can imagine the shock on my sister’s face. Emilia’s jaw became one with the floor as her eyes widened so big I thought they would pop out of her head.

“You’re pregnant?” Already her eyes were welling up with tears of joy.

“I don’t know yet.” I put my arms around her to keep her calm and stable while the emotions began overpowering her. I wanted it to serve as a reminder to not get her hopes up, otherwise she’d get mine up, too.

“Well, have you taken a test?”

I reached for my purse behind her and rummaged through it until I finally retrieved the box. Holding it up, I reluctantly suggested, “I thought maybe you could be there for me when I did?”

She squealed with joyful elation, practically shattering the window pane with the high pitch of her voice. On top of that, she was jumping up and down with elegant grace that I had to wonder how her pregnant body could even manage to do such a thing.

“Of course, I will! Come, come, let’s go.”

We hopped off the truck and to the nearest restroom, which admittedly wasn’t the nicest of places, nor was the place I ever imagined as a child that I’d be finding out I was pregnant in, but it had to do for now.

When I first came out of the stall, I set the test face down on the sink, so that we wouldn’t see it until it was ready. Emilia set a timer for 10 minutes, but in the meantime, all we could do was wait. Neither of us could stay still; Emilia bounced up and down, rubbing her belly while facilitating some sort of breathing exercise. Meanwhile, I kept tapping my foot impatiently.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Emilia’s alarm scared the shit out of me, and we both were startled by the blaring sound. It was so jarring, but even that wouldn’t compare to the fear I felt when I realized it was finally time.

“Do you wanna look or should I?” She asked.

“You look.” I said at first. But when she lunged forward to take it, I did, too. “No wait, I should.” Then another moment of hesitation. “No, you do it. I can’t.”

I held my hands over my mouth while I watched her carefully lift the test off the sink, maneuvering it in such a way that only she would see the results. I watched her expression closely for any sign of a reaction, but she was stoic as can be. I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed, happy - nothing. Complete and total poker face.

“Come on, Emilia! What does it say?” I blurted anxiously.

“Well, first, what do you want it to say?”

That was a question I hadn’t considered. I was so busy worrying about what I didn’t know, to pause and think about what I wanted to find out. On the one hand, I’d be ecstatic if the test confirmed that I was pregnant. I’d jump for joy because that was what I always wanted, right? But on the other hand, if it said I wasn’t pregnant, then I’d be sort of sad because I got so close to that lifelong dream. But after that, I’d probably just be relieved to have dodged a bullet.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I don’t know-”

“Don’t think. Just tell me. What do you want it to say?”

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Positive.” My sister and I alike were stunned by my answer. “Yeah,” I nodded slowly. “Positive. I want it to say positive.” I repeated, to cement my earnest desire.

Emilia’s facade melted away as she began to shake her head. “I’m sorry, (y/n). There’s only one line.”

We both knew what that meant, even if she didn’t explicitly say it. I sighed dejectedly, which was a surprise to even myself. I didn’t expect to be this disappointed, and yet I was. The knot it my stomach worked itself free, and where that pit used to be was just emptiness. My heart sunk and steadied itself, and my breathing resumed its normal pace.

“Well,” I bit my lip. “I guess that’s that.”

Emilia instantly drew nearer to pull me in for a hug, one I was not ready to accept but welcomed anyway. “I’m sorry, (y/n). But I mean, sometimes tests just come out with false negatives.” With her face still buried in the crook of my neck in our hug, she mumbled, “Not this one, though. This one’s positive.”

Immediately, I retreated from our hug and pulled her in front of my view. The sneaky girl had a huge grin that took up 99% of her face.

“You’re pregnant!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, shaking my body violently. We embraced each other in another hug while simultaneously jumping up and down. “I just wanted to trick you so you would know how you really feel. Now you know!”

And I did know. I did know that I wanted this baby and that I was glad it even existed.

Not long after our mini-celebration did I start to come down from the high of my euphoria. A certain realization dawned on me like a cloud of gray hanging above my head to rain on my parade.

What about Spencer?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

PART 2 HERE!

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron

Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.

Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.

It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.

“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.

“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?

You shook your head, “to the cut.”

“Why?”

“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.

Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.

“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”

But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.

Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.

It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.

In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.

But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.

“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.

“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.

“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.

But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.

“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.

“What for?”

“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.

“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”

You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.

“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”

It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.

Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.

Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.

“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.

“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.

“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.

“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”

“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.

“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.

It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.

“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”

“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”

“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.

You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.

“Are you coming up or what?” You called.

“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.

“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.

“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”

“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”

Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.

“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”

“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”

It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.

When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.

But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.

“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.

“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”

“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.

You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.

You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.

“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.

“But you still made it.” You replied.

“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”

“Obviously she meant more than we did.”

Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.

“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.

“Not enough.”

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typhoidmeri · 4 years ago

Text

so give me coffee and tv

“You could always run away with me,” Abe says. He’s squinting at her as he cleans the spotless lenses of his glasses. “Be my muse, my ingenue, hmmm?”

“As nice as the offer is imma say no, old man.”

“You wound me, my dear. Did I ever mention how great a breakfast I make?”

“An almond croissant stolen under the Grape Ape Duo’s noses does not a breakfast make.”

“I believe it is what you Americans call a continental breakfast. And it is not theft. Our dear Clinton owes me.”

“And Kate?” Darcy asks. Tearing the croissant in to pieces she glances over towards the counter. Clint is balancing a cup on a fingertip while Kate is dealing with a customer. The customer must be being an asshole for the smile on Kate’s face is beginning to crack around the edges.

“That, my darling Darcy, is a secret well kept,” Abe says tapping the side of head. “Perhaps you are only immune to my charms because your heart belongs to another, hmmm?”

Abe tilts his head towards the door of the coffee shop as the bell tinkles merrily as Steve pushes it open and ushers his daughter Penelope in. The little girl bustles in as far as Luca’s bed on the floor along the wall beside the weirdly old fashioned heater.

Steve smiles and scans the coffee shop, his eyes stopping on Darcy. She’s too far across the room to see the sparkle in his blue eyes but the smile on his lips stretches wider in his stupidly handsome bearded face. A ripple of heat rises in Darcy’s cheeks and her belly gives an unsolicited flip as she raises her hand in an awkward wave. “I don’t know what the flux you are talking about.”

“Neither does he. Not yet anyway.”

…..

“I hate you,” Darcy hisses to Steve as Pen runs off to her room for a hairbrush and sparkly hair clips.

“What did I do?” Steve asks innocently.

“A little warning about the honey badgers at the school gate.”

“Er,” Steve murmurs hands flailing until he settles them in his hips.

“What happened?”

“Besides the catty remarks about me being your fuc....functioning toy/nanny?” Darcy says smiling brightly as Pen clatters down the hall.

“What!?”

“Don’t worry I told them you were just having a midlife crisis,” she says.

“I...what? I’m only thirty-two. That’s not middle aged!”

“That’s the bit that sticks with you? Not the bit where the school moms practically murdered me for daring to pick up your kid?”

“Okay, Darcy, I got the stuff to make your hair pretty,” Pen shouts.

“One minute, Pen.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry, Darc, I didn’t really think.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t say anything. Really I was too afraid they would take me down like an injured gazelle at the watering hole. Dude, they must try to eat you alive.”

“You have no idea.....do you really think I look middle aged?”

“You’re fine, Steve. You’re still hot. DILF status affirmed.”

“Daddy, what’s a diff?”

“Er, a difference of opinion,” Steve says after several heartbeats.

“Grownups talk weird,” Pen grumbles, wrinkling her button nose.

….

“Look, Abe, I got Star of the Week,” Penelope shouts, weaving through the tables of the coffee shop. She barely stops herself from tripping over Luca, Abe’s little French Bulldog as she waves a certificate in Abraham’s face. Steve winces as he closes the door behind him a bemused smile on his face as his daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Star of the Week, hmmm? Let me see, little miss Pen,” Abe says. He plucks the paper from Penelope’s hand and adjusts the glasses perched on his nose. “This certificate here says one Penelope Rogers is Star of the Week.”

“That’s me,” Pen says. Pointing at her chest where a shiny red star sticker sits beside a splash of green paint.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup, it’s me. Daddy says we can have pizza for dinner to celebrate.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“You know what I hear goes best before pizza?” Erskein asks patting down the pockets of his vintage tweed jacket.

“Daddy says it’s salad,” Pen says wrinkling her nose. The girl drops down to her knees to give Luca a hug and scritches behind his ears. The little dog wiggles his rump and gives Penelope a slobbery kiss.

“Ice cream,” Abe says, pulling a wallet from his breast pocket.

“I love ice cream.”

“As you should. Do you know who else loves ice cream?”

“Everyone but Sam. Sam’s got lack toes and isn’t supposed to have cow’s milk. Not even macaroni cheese.”

“I was thinking Miss Darcy might like an ice cream too.”

“Oh, yes. Imma go ask Darcy right now,” Pen blurts out. With a little giggle the girl skips across the cafe to where Darcy is enthroned on her favourite corner table. A pen between her plush pink lips and another tucked into a messy bun.

Steve sighs, watching his daughter launch herself at Darcy. “I know what you’re doing, old man.”

“I’m not up to anything, Steven, I’m just treating my goddaughter to a treat.” Abe stuffs a folded bill into Steve’s hand with a fond pat. “Now off with you. I have a cafe to run and you have ice cream to get with Miss Penelope and the girl of your not so innocent dreams,” Abraham says with a sly smile and the snap of a newspaper.

“Abe.”

“Hurry now. Out of my hair before I decide to seduce the girl myself.”

…..

“Are you busy Friday night,” Steve asks as he wipes down the spotless counter in the shop.

“Ha,” Darcy snorts, “that’s cute you think I have a life beyond studying and staring at bits of code. What time?”

“Seven, seven thirty?”

“No problem.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Why?” Darcy asks, wrinkling her nose in confusion. Her place was only two long and three short blocks away.

“To go out?”

“No, I get that you’re going out. I’m not far away. I’ll just walk over to yours to watch Pen.”

“Pen won’t be there. She’s staying at Ma’s Friday night.”

“Then why do you need me to babysit?”

“Because I’m not asking you to babysit. I’m asking you out,” Steve says. He nervously runs a hand through his hair.

“Oh..”

“On a date.”

“Oh...”

“You wanna buy a consonant?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

“You...you’re asking me out on a date. A date date?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You want...”

“To take you out to dinner. Yes.”

“Yes,” Darcy says. A slow smile spreads across Steve’s face and a storm of butterflies swarm in her belly and a flush of warmth ripples down her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

...

Happy birthday, @aenariasbookshelf

This little stitched together ficlet took a year to get posted. There is more in my head, but words are hard to line up when you brain refuses to play ball. Title from ‘coffee & tv’ by blur. I’ll pop the ficlet up on ao3 tomorrow when I might be more awake. I hope.

#steve x darcy #darcy x steve #meri writes fic

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

Text

i knew you (Bucky Barnes soulmate AU) -- part one

I know, I know. I just finished a story and I started another one and now I’m posting a different one...I’m insane. But I’ve had this idea for a while, just never wrote it down until last night! Enjoy xx.

Also! It’s Bucky x Reader, but it might read as Steve x Reader. I promise it’s platonic!Steve x Reader, though. Steve has no intentions of stealing Bucky’s girl. He knows Bucky would haunt his ass if he did (this is set in The Winter Soldier movie, so Steve still thinks Buck is dead).

Warnings: just some general sadness and angst, mentions of depression, it’s angst city honestly it made me cry

You watch as the old footage replays of Bucky’s wide grin. The only kind of smile that his best friend, Steve Rogers, could draw out of him with one single look or gesture. The only kind of expression that knocks the wind out of your lungs and sends chills down your spine.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable both on schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.”

You hastily wipe a tear away. It’s been months since you put the pieces together. Months since your parents told you that they had known for years. Months since they told you they didn’t want to tell you because they didn’t want to see you hurt.

Months since you’ve realized the man you keep seeing in your dreams is Bucky Barnes.

At first, you thought you were crazy. People dream of faces they’ve never seen all the time, right?

Soulmates are said to be rare, but not nonexistent. You’ve always thought they were real, just that the world was so cynical to really talk about them. The idea that there is one person out there whose soul is connected to yours is exactly the kind of thing that would send this generation walking the other direction with their middle fingers raised and eyes rolling in disbelief.

Then you started remembering your dreams. You started to see his face more clearly. Granted, you had no idea it was Bucky that you were seeing.

You came to the Smithsonian almost half a year ago now with your best friend. She realized you both had never been before, and she basically said fuck it one day and took you with her. Her exact words were, “How have we gone to college here for a year and a half and we’ve never been to the damn Smithsonian?”

You weren’t expecting to meet your soulmate that day.

Of course, you use the word “meet” very loosely. Your soulmate isn’t alive, which explains the emptiness you feel on a daily. It’s been said that soulmates can feel what the other is feeling. Often times it’s muted, but recognizable.

You got to see his face, to finally realize that it’s Bucky. The Bucky Barnes.

It sounds ridiculous — and God, you love your best friend for not calling you pathetic that day — but when you walked up to the very exhibit you’re standing at right now and saw Bucky’s smile...you knew. Instantly, you knew. And it moved you to tears.

It was like your soul had finally found her counterpart, here, grinning like a madman next to his best friend, all the way back in the 1940s.

Your parents knew simply because of things you would say, offhandedly, without even realizing it.

Your interest in WWII caught their attention, but it surprisingly didn’t last long -- only from about the time that you turned thirteen to a few months before your fourteenth birthday. You would’ve found Bucky a lot sooner had your interest in the war itself lasted much longer, but it didn’t. You wonder now if you subconsciously knew it was Bucky, but steered yourself away from it in an attempt to save yourself the heartache at such a young age.

Your taste in music has been the constant that they didn’t quite understand at first. You listen to modern tunes, sure, but you’re a sucker for the music of the 40s. Even clothes. You sometimes found yourself leaning toward the styles of the 40s in subtle ways, not realizing it.

The true confirmation of their suspicions came, though, when your mom said she heard you say Bucky’s name. The first time was on a road trip. You had fallen asleep in the car. You were sixteen at the time. You were dreaming and you have no recollection of ever saying his name. You weren’t even aware that you said his name while you were dreaming until she confessed that day.

You haven’t told anyone about it. Your best friend doesn’t even know. She still believes you got too excited about seeing Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, that’s all. She doesn’t know the real reason, the real aching pain that you feel every day.

The only thing that eases the ache is this. Hogging this exhibit. Watching the footage over and over again. Watching Bucky’s smile and being unable to hold back your own, despite your tears.

You know the staff must think you’re delusional. Somehow you haven’t cared enough to entertain the thought. But you have seen the security guard give you strange looks when you walk in almost every other day.

It used to not be this bad. You came every day for a few weeks, but then you were able to calm down to once a week, sometimes twice a month, if you were too busy with school to think about Bucky much.

But lately, something has changed. You don’t know what it is. You still feel the emptiness, but something is different. It’s...troubled. That’s all your mind can come up with.

It makes no sense, though. How can Bucky be troubled? He’s dead. You believe in ghosts and all -- you’ve never been given a reason not to -- but you’ve heard more stories than you can count from people whose soulmate has died. They all say the same thing. They felt it when it happened. Because it was like a switch was flipped. They were feeling everything one moment, and the next, it was all gone. Empty.

Empty. How you’ve felt since the day you were born. You’ve been to therapists and they all told you the same thing. It’s just your thinking. Change your thinking processes. You’ve never slipped or spiraled far enough for it to be classified as a depressive disorder or anything else, just...empty.

When you found out about having a soulmate, and even more so when you found out it was Bucky, you still felt empty, but not as much. It was like everything suddenly made perfect sense. The emptiness had a purpose, a reason for existing.

When you see him smile, everything makes perfect sense. You feel like you have a reason to exist.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You slowly drag your eyes away from Bucky, preparing yourself to deal with a disgruntled museum-goer or staff member complaining about how long you’ve been standing here. But that’s not who you see.

He’s wearing a hat, but the resemblance is unmistakable.

Quickly, you glance at the video before looking back to the person beside you. That’s him. Steve Rogers.

“Hi,” you say hesitantly, quietly. He’s obviously hiding, which he is right to do. If anyone got wind of Steve Rogers walking around here, there would be mass chaos.

“Hey,” he replies just as quiet. “Um...Wanna get a coffee?”

You have no idea why he’s asking, but you nod anyway. Who would say no to coffee with Captain America?

Outside the Smithsonian and down the block, you bring Steve to your favorite spot to get coffee. Your best friend turned you onto it when you first got here for college, and you’ve gone here weekly ever since.

After grabbing your coffees, you pick a table far enough away from everyone else on the patio to talk without anyone listening in.

“So, uh…” Steve exhales, shifting in his seat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you shrug, holding onto your cup with both hands. “Why did you ask me to get coffee?”

“You looked familiar,” Steve says, slowly. “What’s your full name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Y/N L/N. Why?”

“Y/N…” Steve mutters under his breath, a crooked smile crossing his face. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Huh?”

“Bucky used to talk to me about you,” Steve continues, and you swear your heart stops. “He had me draw pictures of you. He couldn’t draw for crap, but he kept describing you to me from his dreams. I’ve drawn so many I’d recognize your face anywhere.”

“He dreamt about me?” You whisper. “Really?”

“All the time,” Steve nods, smiling sadly. “So you’re his soulmate?”

“I guess,” you say. “My mom says I used to say his name in my sleep all the time. I dreamt of his face, too, but I never knew it was him. Until my friend took me to the exhibit a few months ago.” You pause. “It sounds stupid. But seeing him there makes me feel...better.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says suddenly. “It can’t be easy being born in a completely different generation.”

You smile softly. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too. I can’t imagine how hard it is to still be here after all this time. And without your best friend, too.”

“Yeah, it hasn’t been easy,” Steve admits. “But thanks. I appreciate it.”

“If it’s not too much to ask,” you begin, pausing to think about if you’re going to regret this. “Would you tell me about him? Just anything. It doesn’t have to be anything profound, just...anything you want to talk about. But if it’s too hard, don’t worry about it.” You wave your hands in front of your face, already preparing yourself for Steve to politely turn you down.

But he doesn’t.

“Bucky, he…” Steve pauses, shaking his head. “He was a lot wealthier than me back in the 40s. I had no business acting the way I did, picking fights with people three times my size, but I still did it. And Bucky was always there to pick me up off the ground and give me a ride back home.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle. “You used to be super skinny, right?”

“I was really sick, actually. Bucky had every reason to treat me like anyone else, but he never did. We grew up together -- though I used to joke that he grew up. I stayed the same size. But he never made fun of me for it.”

You can’t help but grin. “That video in the museum -- his smile. I see it in my dreams all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah that was Bucky’s signature grin. He could give any woman that smile and they were his.”

“I can see why,” you admit quietly, averting your eyes when Steve raises his eyebrows. You change subjects, not wanting to talk about how attractive you find Steve’s dead best friend -- despite him being your soulmate. “What was his favorite thing to eat for breakfast?”

Steve takes the bait, and for the next four hours, the two of you sit on the patio, talking about Bucky Barnes.

His favorite color? Your eyes. Which you think is a little ridiculous, but Steve swears it’s the truth.

His favorite thing to do? Go dancing. Hands down.

His favorite thing to talk about? You. Again, you give Steve a stern look, and again, he swears it’s true. But when he wasn’t talking about you, Steve says Bucky talked a lot about the future. He was an optimist. Steve has no idea how, but Bucky always saw the brightest side.

Bucky was kind. Kinder than a lot of men his age, at the time. He had that blinding smile and instead of hiding it and going for the mysterious, brooding attitude, he chose to smile as much as he could, to anyone who looked like they needed it.

Realizing that the sun is beginning to go down, Steve decides to get you home.

“It’s alright, I can walk,” you tell him, feeling high on everything Bucky. “It’s just up here. I go to college here.”

“At least let me walk you to the campus,” Steve offers.

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Bucky would kill me if I let his girl walk home alone. Especially when it’s getting dark.”

“Fine,” you cave. Hearing Steve refer to you as “Bucky’s girl” sends chills down your spine -- the good kind of chills. The kind that makes you wish it was the 1940s. The kind that makes you wish Bucky was here, holding your hand, walking you home.

Once you reach campus (you decide to let Steve walk you all the way to your dorm building), you ask Steve the question you’ve been wondering about ever since you first saw Bucky in the museum.

“Hey Steve?”

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Steve turns his head toward you. “Yeah?”

“If this was the 40s...do you-- Do you think I’m the kind of girl Bucky would want?”

Steve’s steps falter. You slow your pace to match his until you’re both stopped, looking at one another.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Yes,” Steve says simply. “Yeah. I do. I know for a fact he would’ve torn down every building until he found you. Because he tried.”

Your breath hitches. Deep down, you had convinced yourself that you weren’t the kind of girl Bucky would want. Not that it’s your fault because you were born this side of the millennium. But to hear Steve tell you otherwise makes you freeze.

“What?”

“Bucky didn’t have me sketch you because he wanted me to practice my drawing. He did it because he wanted to see a picture of you. Something he could keep in his wallet and look at every night. He was a ladies man, yeah, but every single one...he wanted them to be you. But they never were.” Steve shakes his head. “It really tore him up, that he never found you. He still held out hope, though. Until the very last second.”

Tears have sprung to your eyes before you even realize it.

“Before he fell, he--” Steve pauses. “He told me to promise that I’d find you. I guess I kept my promise after all.”

He looks up to see the tears in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. Without a single word, Steve pulls you into his chest, and without hesitation, you let yourself cry.

He’s not Bucky. And you’ll never find your Bucky, but he’s close enough. Steve promised Bucky that he’d find you, and he kept that promise. Now he’s going to do everything in his power to keep you safe.

Because he knows for a fact Bucky would’ve wanted that, too.

#i knew you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #platonic!steve x reader #captain america: the winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes soulmate au #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #angst city y'all #it will not have real fluff for a while #we are stuck in traffic in angst city lmao #oops

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scnteria · 3 years ago

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( alex wolff, cis male, he/him, muse b ) oh snap! is that THEODORE “TEDDY” WELLS ? they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE MISCREANT. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( affable ) but also pretty ( misguided ). they’re 22 and they’ve been living in woodstock for FOUR YEARS. it must be their shift because i totally hear RADIOHEAD blasting from the record store.

( @volumeupdates )

hi everyone !! phew i’m so hype to be here... hello... you can call me wren ! i’m in the est timezone and use she/her pronouns. a lil bit about me: i love making playlists and my silly little lattes every morning, i have two puppies at home that i love more than anything, and i’m currently watching ted lasso and falling in l*ve with jason sudeikis and no i do not think i named teddy after ted lasso but it might’ve been an unconscious thing idk

anyway, i’m going to try not to ramble too much about my boi teddy but you’ve been warned:

sweet boy theodore ! he mostly goes by teddy. i don’t think he minds being called theodore but he DOES hate the nickname ted. sorry to mr. sudeikis

he was born and raised in chicago but his father is from woodstock. he has some distant family here but growing up, it was teddy, his mom, dad, and older brother mccartney ( mick !! )

( alcoholism, hoarding disorder tw ) teddy’s older brother was like a refuge for him in a household that was pretty tough to live in. his mother is an extreme hoarder so teddy felt pretty trapped in his own home. on top of that, his father is a functioning alcoholic who had a tendency to pick fights when really wasted. ( end tw )

teddy shared a room with mick, so that was like their little escape from it all ! but mick left for college because he’s a Smart, Good Boy when teddy was fifteen ! so he took it super hard to be living alone in this environment

( depression tw ) naturally, at that age ( and with evident mental health issues running in the family ), teddy started to show signs of depression. in an attempt to alleviate that, his fam fulfilled a lifelong dream and adopted a lil border collie pup ! ( end tw )

he realized his home wasn’t suitable for him, his mental health, or his dog winnie. he saved up money by working odd jobs throughout high school and on his eighteenth birthday, he and his pup moved to woodstock.

his dog winnie is named after his celebrity crush, winona ryder ! he absolutely carries a polaroid photo of her in his wallet because truly that is his child and god bless you if you even mention dogs around him

he got the job at high volume four years ago so he’s been around for a bit ! jerry was actually really good friends with teddy’s father, so he’s known jerry pretty much his entire life.

( drug use and alcoholism tw ) teddy has a chronic intestinal disease that basically attacks his immune system and can be preeeetty painful ! it’s manageable ofc and although teddy would say: “kurt cobain had it too so it’s fine,” it still Sucks to deal with. he is on medication for it, though another prescription works wonders for pain too...... and that ‘prescription’ is just Weed. he smokes a lot lol and also likes to drink, both as a source of self-medication and just because ! ( end tw )

( violence and ptsd tw ) oh haha also he saw jerry get shot in an alley but i imagine he is currently going through the many phases of ptsd at this moment. very much trying to keep it together but in reality, he’s a ball of pure anxiety and could crack at any given moment. definitely going through some bouts of denial and doubt ? jerry is not only his boss but he’s a family friend and someone he kind of looked up to, so it’s safe to say he’s not Doing Well ( end tw )

ok now more about his CHARACTER:

teddy is a sweetheart. he’s got golden retriever tendencies, i’d say ! verrrry sociable, loves to be around people.

he’s pretty independent and self-sufficient for someone who makes dumb decisions and doesn’t vibe with being alone ! he has learned to look out for himself but at the same time, he’s one of those people that make you wonder how he got this far ??

overall, a pretty great friend to have. he’s a man of his word and basically likes to make people around him feel comfortable and happy !

kinda charming, an accidental flirt at times. like i don’t think he realizes when he’s flirting ? he’s a little oblivious and definitely does better with people who are direct with him. like if you’re dropping hints that you like him or need him to do something, he won’t pick up on it at all lol the boy is stuck in his own little world that has karma police playing on a constant loop

walking into a shift with him means you’ll either be: entertained, annoyed, distracted, or high lol

( drugs tw ) like he has shown up to work high before and probably has smoked outside during a slow shift i’m SORRY ( end tw )

messy, messy boy makes questionable decisions because he doesn’t quite think them through. he’s SO responsible with his dog, but himself ? a hot mess

perhaps he’s not ... wise when it comes to money... i’ll leave it at that for now :)

perpetually running late and rambles a good amount

weak-willed and self-destructive ! he’s easily swayed to do pretty much anything bc he’s kind of a happy-go-lucky kind of dude. pretty much does Not say no to plans and maybe he pushes his alcohol tolerance from time to time

CONNECTION ideas !!

he moved to woodstock four years ago and i wanna say he lives alone but tbh a roommate would be Cost Effective ( must like dogs tho )

that being said, if your character happened to grow up in chicago let’s do some childhood connections ! maybe an old friend, previous unrequited crush, etc.

pls give me a favorite coworker that just doesn’t get anything done when they’re working together

he absolutely will get on people’s nerves. he gets on MY nerves. so give me enemies of any sort lol

i don’t think he’s much of a relationship guy. i could see one longterm relationship in his past so an ex is a possibility !

a previous one-night stand is pretty accurate for him too, but i don’t see him thinking it’s weird or anything. i see him being pretty casual with hook-ups in general, so... do with that as you will

friends ! teddy is a talker and really likes to get to know people, so i can see him having friends of varying levels lol whether you’ve spoken twice but he’s like That’s My Guy ! or you regularly see him walking his dog or you just vibe at work... truly this man will talk to a wall. the possibilities are endless

a BEST friend ! i would very much like someone that teddy spews mostly everything to. he will indeed lay his life on the line for this person lol

party-goers, fellow druggies ! this is a scene teddy OFTEN dabbles in, whether you indulge yourself or provide. >:)

could definitely see him on the receiving end of a mom/dad/parent friend kind of relationship. like that john mulaney quote GET SOME REST, TALL CHILD

okay i seriously need to stop this got so long please end me anyway hit me up here or on discord for all of the plots. i really like to get into the nitty gritty of plots so if that’s your jam, let’s make some toast, baby ! i’m SO excited to get things going !

#volumeintro #i added a few tws within this ok

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punkrockmads · 4 years ago

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"Wait... Your Birthday is WHEN?!"

Abby x Fem! Reader

Requested by: @bitchinzzz

(Takes place in Avalon after the 2nd game, Abby and Lev do not run into the Rattlers)

You never understood why people fussed so much over birthdays. To you, it was just another day. Another day of surviving the infected. You enjoyed seeing how happy other people were celebrating their birthdays. You especially loved the smile on Abby's face when you gave her an album for her to store her coin collection in earlier that year. And you enjoyed the way Lev hopped around the house with so much joy when you found him a huge stuffed shark a month after that for his birthday. But, you never felt the need to celebrate yours. You just enjoy making others happy. You never mentioned your birthday to Abby before and that wasn't about to change. So when you woke up on the morning of your birthday, you didn't bother saying anything to Abby or Lev.

You crawl out of bed, kissing Abby's forehead and pulling the covers over her shoulders. She mumbles incoherently, brows furrowed, before settling down again. You chuckle to yourself quietly, leaving the bedroom you shared with your girlfriend to get ready for the day. The Fireflies have a pretty comfortable setup on Catalina Island; almost as nice as it was in Jackson.

Your family had left Jackson without you to follow something you thought was simply a rumor. They went looking for the Fireflies. You went after them but soon found out they never made it. You found your mother, father and older sister hanging from trees in the forest... gutted. You lost it and hid in the basement of an abandoned house. You had been there two days when Abby and Lev had found you. You've been with them ever since. You always smile when you think back to how flustered Abby was the first few weeks.

The new Firefly base has power, running water and even a giant gate that keeps the infected out. The three of you were even given your own house in the town. Speaking of power, you need to get breakfast ready. Lev will be up soon. He's been begging your friend, Marcus, to let him patrol the fence line with him and, after weeks of begging, you and Abby finally said he could as long as he stayed beside Marcus.

You walk across the landing to Lev's bedroom door. He always sleeps with it cracked. You don't bother him about it, knowing he feels safer that way. You peek through the crack, making sure Lev is okay. The same thing you do every day. As always, he's sleeping peacefully, clinging to his giant shark plush, a smaller one laying at his feet.

You back away from his door, going downstairs to start breakfast. The living room window is open, letting in a gentle breeze that creates goosebumps on your exposed arms and legs. You only wore one of Abby's shirts and a pair of underwear to bed that night; the Summer weather being too hot to wear anything else, especially with Abby's warm body pressed against yours. You search through the kitchen, deciding scrambled eggs would be the easiest thing to make. You even have some bread you baked a few days ago left.

Although your cooking is excellent, you definitely enjoy baking more. Ingredients for pastries are very hard to come by but, whenever you manage to find them, you absolutely love baking pastries for your family and the children that live in the base. Abby says it's such a "mom" thing and teases you about it but you know she loves it when you make her favorite cookies. Every time she smells the faint scent of lemon coming from the oven, she can't help but smile. You remember her even crying a little when she found out you'd baked a cake for her birthday. She knew it probably took you quite a while to gather those ingredients. So, she finds it slightly odd that she still doesn't know when your birthday is. How is she supposed to plan something special for you?

As you're cooking eggs on the stove, Abby walks into the kitchen wearing a simple white tank top and dark green pyjama shorts. Her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, falling over her left shoulder. You turn to her, giving her a loving smile as she walks toward you. She stands behind you, pulling you into her arms so you have to reach forward a bit to keep the pan on the stove.

"Morning, love." You say, feeling your back pressed against her warm stomach. Abby leans to press a small, gentle kiss on your right cheek.

"Good morning, angel." She mumbles against your cheek with a sleepy voice, fingers moving under your shirt and dancing along your waist. You laugh lightly at the ticklish sensation. "Did you sleep okay?"

You nod with a small hum, reaching to turn off the stove. "Did you? Sounded like you were mumbling again. Strange dream?" You turn your head to look up at her as she sways the two of you side to side slowly, a habit she's picked up over the many months you've been together.

"Good dream, actually." Abby says, a small smile on her face.

"Oh yeah? What about?" You ask as she lets you go to grab a few plates from one of the wooden cupboards. She sets them down in front of you, clicking her tongue.

"You, Lev and I celebrating Christmas." Abby begins, grabbing forks out of a drawer as you plate the eggs and bread. "Lev seeing a Christmas tree for the first time." Your smile grows wider at the thought of Lev's face lighting up at the sight of a Christmas tree. "I noticed something else, though." She pauses, carrying two plates into the dining room and setting them on the table.

"And what was that?" You ask as you join her, bringing the remaining plate and silverware.

"You had a wedding ring on your finger." The way she speaks slightly quicker doesn't go unnoticed by you. She's trying to be cocky, but she's also shy.

"What are you suggesting?" You fold your arms over your chest, looking at her with a playful grin.

"What, you don't wanna get married in the future?" Abby teases back, raising her eyebrow. You chuckle, letting your arms drop to your sides.

"As long as I'm marrying you." You state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Damn right, you'll be marrying me." She says, matter of factly. You roll your eyes, looking to the clock on the wall. It's almost 7:30.

"Lev should be up by now. I want him to have time to eat before going with Marcus."

"I can go wake him up." Abby offers.

"That's okay." You peck her lips, turning to go upstairs. "I left something upstairs, anyways." Her eyes are so warm; so inviting. You wish you could gaze into them forever and escape this world of kill or be killed. You think of how different your life would be if the infected never existed as you walk up the stairs. You knock on Lev's doorframe and, hearing no response, you push the door open. Lev is still sleeping exactly how he was earlier.

"Good morning, Lev." You call softly from the doorway. He just lets out a groan and buries his face in his shark. You chuckle, walking over and ruffling his already messy hair.

"Go away." He whines, his voice muffled by the stuffed animal. "Let me sleep forever." You have an idea you're sure will work. You walk to the door again, putting on a fake frown.

"Okay, if that's what you want." You sigh. You see Lev peek up at you, looking at your feigned sad expression. "I guess I'll just have to tell Marcus you changed your mind about patrolling with him. He's gonna be so disappointed but... I'm sure he'll understand." Lev sits up quickly, looking at his clock. His eyes go wide.

"I'm gonna be late!" He yells, scrambling out of bed and running past you. You laugh, hearing him run into Abby and her telling him to slow down before he gets hurt. You walk back into your bedroom, searching through yours and Abby's stuff.

"Dammit, where did I put it?" You mutter to yourself, searching for the small box of children's books you found in a basement you had cleared on your last patrol outside the gates. You're supposed to help out at the daycare today and you're more than excited to show them the new books you found for the younger children. You let out a huff when you find it tucked away in the corner of the closet.

You carry the box downstairs, listening to Lev tell Abby all about his dream about riding a giant dragon and flying to Paris. You set the box down by the front door so you won't forget it before joining your family for breakfast. After eating and doing the dishes, you and Abby go upstairs to get ready for the day.

"What do they have you doing today?" You ask her, pulling a burgundy colored top over your head.

"They want me to help a scouting team clear out a building about a half hour away." She sighs, adjusting her belt. "Nothing big." You hum, glad she isn't doing something too dangerous. Compared to what she used to do at the WLF base, these missions were a lot safer. You asked her if these missions were boring one night while the two of you were cuddled up in bed.

She shook her head, saying that, if anything, they were a lot less stressful. You mostly went on missions with her but, when you found out the daycare workers needed a bit more help, you decided to spend a bit of your time there. Only after Abby assured you she'd be fine with you not tagging along every once in a while. It did help knowing she wasn't going out there alone. They always sent a team of five, sometimes more if necessary.

"You taking those books to the kids today?" Abby asks, watching you lace up your boots. You nod, grabbing her arm to pull yourself up. "I'm sure they'll love them." She smiles. "And Macey will be really excited to see you again." You chuckle a bit at her comment about the little four year old that has grown to adore you. She lost her mother at a very young age so you became a surrogate of sorts.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" You smile, cupping Abby's face in your hands. She leans down, touching her forehead to yours and wrapping her arms around your waist.

"She's probably losing her mind." Abby laughs, her toned stomach pressed against you. "Her dad might not be around much longer. I'm worried about her." She says, tone going serious. Her father is sick; in and out of the infirmary constantly.

"Anything happens, we'll take her in." You say, repeating the agreement you and Abby had made with Macey's father. The two of you agreed to raise the girl as your own if anything were to happen to him. He knows how much Macey loves you and your family. Abby nods, kissing your lips. You stay there for a moment, letting her soft lips rest on yours until you have to pull away for air. A knock on the front door makes you both walk downstairs. You open the door, letting Marcus in.

"Hello there, ladies." He says in his thick southern accent, stepping in and brushing locks of black hair out of his eyes. Abby calls for Lev and you hear him rush around in his room, trying to get ready quickly.

"You need a haircut." You chuckle, tugging at his hair lightly.

"Ow! Hey!" He laughs, pulling your hand out of his tangled mop he calls hair. You let go, shoving him. He shoves you back and you land against Abby's chest with an 'oof'. You look up at her and she chuckles. The three of you are good friends; always teasing each other. "You guys almost ready?" Marcus asks and you nod as he sits down on the couch. Abby picks up her backpack, putting it on her back. You checked earlier to make sure she has everything she needs for her mission. And then, just in case, you double checked.

"Lev, we've gotta go soon!" Abby calls up the stairs. Lev comes down the stairs moments later, shoes still untied as he reaches for his backpack. "Slow down and tie your shoes, goober." Abby grins at his eagerness. Lev sighs, doing what he's told.

"Please make sure you stay by Marcus, okay?" You say to Lev, slightly worried. Yeah, they'll be right outside the gate, but what if something went wrong?

"I will. Promise." Lev smiles, standing up. "Can we go now?" Marcus looks to you and Abby to make sure everyone was ready to head out.

"Yeah, c'mon." Abby says, leading everyone out the front door. You grab the box of books before closing the door behind you, walking beside Abby and Lev. As you're walking to the daycare, Abby takes the box from you, making you look up at her with a questioning gaze. She just gives you a mischievous smile. "Hey, Marcus. Hold this. She quickly hands the box to the man and grabs you, slinging you over her shoulder and making you yelp in surprise.

"What the hell? Abby! Put me down!" You protest, punching at her back. She only laughs along with Marcus and Lev. You notice a few amused looks from some of the other people who are out and about doing their daily tasks. You feel your face heat up. "Abby, stop! You're embarrassing me!" You groan. You feel her pinch the back of your thigh playfully and you smack her shoulder blade. "Abigail!" Your protests turn into annoyed whines but she doesn't set you down until you reach the daycare. Marcus hands you the box before ushering Lev along, leaving you and Abby to go patrol. "Hope you enjoyed the show, jerks!" You yell after them. Abby just grabs your chin, moving your gaze to meet hers.

"You're cute." She says, pecking the tip of your nose.

"Be safe, okay?" You whisper, wrapping your arms around her neck. You wish she didn't have to go. You'd prefer it if she stayed with you and helped with the children. But, that isn't an option today. She has responsibilities.

"Always." Abby promises. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You smile. She kisses your lips once more before turning and walking away. You watch until she is out of sight and head inside the daycare. Immediately, the young kids look to you and smile.

"Y/N!" They all yell, getting up to swarm you. Several pairs of arms wrap around your waist, making you chuckle. You notice a little banner hanging up by the chalkboard in the front of the room. 'Happy Birthday'.

"Alright, kids. Settle down." Violet laughs. Violet has been running the daycare for quite a while along with a much older woman who moved on to help teach the older kids. When you found out Violet had been stuck with twelve kids, all six and under, you just had to step in and help whenever you could.

"Who's birthday is it?" You ask once all of the kids have returned to their desks.

"It's mine!" A little boy with curly red hair says from the corner. You smile.

"Happy birthday, Adam!" You set the box down on a shelf beside the door. "How old are you?" He grins, revealing a missing tooth. He holds up four fingers. "That's super cool! My birthday's today, too. But I'm much older than you." You say, laughing at his shocked gasp.

"Today's YOUR birthday, too?!" You turn around to see your favorite little girl bounding toward you, her long blonde hair bouncing with every step. She clings to your leg.

"Yep." You say, simply. Macey tugs on your arm, silently asking you to bend down. You do as she wishes, looking into her deep blue, playful eyes.

"What's in the box?" She whispers, squishing your cheeks with her little hands.

"You really wanna know?" You tease. She nods, her eyes wide and full of wonder. You pull her hands away and stand up, walking over to the box. You place it on the floor for all of the kids to see. They all go crazy, so happy to see brand new books for them to read. You let them look through the books, a smile on your face.

"Thank you for the books." Violet says, standing beside you. "They're really going to love them."

"It's really no problem." You smile. "I'm glad they'll be of use instead of collecting dust in that basement."

"So, are you, Abby and Lev gonna do something big for your birthday later?" She asks.

"No." You state, simply. "They don't even know it's my birthday." Violet looks at you like you just drank bleach.

"What?!" She exclaims, her voice barely heard over the babbling kids. "Why haven't you told them?"

"I never really celebrate it. I don't feel the need to." You shrug. She turns away.

"I guess some people don't celebrate their birthdays." Violet says. "Hell, my brother doesn't even remember when his is."

"Hard to keep track of." You say before Macey runs up to you and grabs your legs, repeating little cheers of 'thank you' over and over.

Later that day, you head home to find Lev and Abby already there. You join Abby in the kitchen, helping her prepare dinner as she talks about her mission. When she asks how your day with the kids went, you mention Adam's birthday and it makes her pause. She realizes she still has no clue when your birthday is.

"Hey, when is your birthday?" Abby asks, setting the table.

"Today." You say as if she's just asked what time it is. She almost drops a plate at your response.

"Wait... your birthday is WHEN?!" You laugh at her shocked expression.

"Today." You repeat.

"What- why didn't you tell me sooner?" Abby stumbles over her words, walking back into the kitchen.

"I don't know." You respond, turning to face her. "It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it does!" She takes your hands in hers, running her thumbs over your knuckles. "It's your birthday, baby! If anything, you should at least be celebrating the fact that you survived another year of the apocalypse like a badass." You roll your eyes at her little smirk. "Tell you what, we don't have to do anything exciting tonight. But, I still wanna do something special so... how about the three of us stay up late and watch a movie? Then, we sleep in tomorrow?" You contemplate the idea. Neither of you had work to do tomorrow and it would be nice to spend a night cuddled up on the couch with your family. Maybe you could make it a bit more interesting...

"Can we watch a scary movie?" You ask. "Nothing too inappropriate for Lev, though." She sighs. She's never been the biggest fan of scary movies. They're usually too predictable. The psychological horror films are her favorite because they mess with your mind.

"Alright." Abby agrees. "We can watch a scary movie."

"Okay." You smile, kissing her cheek and going into the dining room. You call for Lev to come eat dinner and he says he'll join as soon as he's finished his drawing. Abby walks in after you, pulling you close. Your eyes go wide when she pulls you into a kiss. Once you process what's happening, you let your eyes close and kiss back. She runs the tip of her tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You deny, pulling away and grinning at her annoyed groan. As much as you'd love to continue, Lev would be coming into the dining room any minute. Besides, it's way too much fun teasing her and watching her try so hard to continue only to be forced to wait patiently. She settles for kissing your temple, lingering for a brief moment.

"Happy birthday, beautiful." Abby whispers, nuzzling her face into your hair.

"Thanks, babe." You say, resting your forehead on her shoulder. She makes a mental note to never forget your birthday and even starts planning an extravagant celebration for next year that she would most likely have to force you to attend.

#tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #lev tlou #fanfiction

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oumaheroes · 4 years ago

Text

Earthbound 1/?

Summary:

Centuries after humanity fled a dying Earth and found sanctuary in the stars, the planet has healed enough to support mankind once more. For some, there is something more than curiosity; memories from another life whisper history in familiar voices, calling them home.

'He closes his eyes and thinks about blue flowers and large statues of stone, of ships and red coats flapping over a green meadow.'

Part 2 Part 3

……………………………………………………………………

Chapter 1: Scattered Amongst The Stars

Alfred is six. It was his birthday last Tuesday and he got to have a really big party and it was really really cool, but the coolest thing ever was that he got an e-tab from his Ma. Everyone at school already has an e-tab -as a July baby he's one of the youngest- so now he can finally join in with the special classes that they have and play all of those games at lunch time.

Alfred doesn't like feeling left out. It's not nice, Ma says, when you don't include people, so that means that the people who play games on their e-tabs when they know he doesn't have one are being mean on purpose and that really hurts. Except now, now he can join in and be their friend again and won't have to sit alone at his table when it's interactive e-tab time.

It's not real learning, Pa says. He didn't want Alfred to have one, says that it rots your brains and makes you lazy, and says that the e-tab time is just 'enrichment', it's not part of the curriculum because they're not learning anything, just downloading and watching stuff. Still, Ma must have talked him around because on Tuesday Alfred opened the box and there it was, all for him. There's some games on it, from Grandpa, and Ma had uploaded some of his favourite movies for him to watch as soon as he'd synced his mind up. Pa got there too, he must have done, because there's also some files on 'Earth History', 'The Fall', and one about extinct animals which Alfred really doesn't wanna read but Pa's been mentioning at least one of them every dinner since so he probably should.

He goes into school and begins to chatter happily to his friend Ben as soon as he sees him about 'Zip Blast', the current school-yard fad, and about how he can't wait to sync up and play because he'd been practising over the weekend and he thinks he's kinda good now.

Ben looks uncomfortable. 'Oh, I don't think we're playing that one any more.'

'Huh? But...' Alfred stops and looks at Ben in disbelief, 'but Friday you said it was the best ever!'

'Well it was,' Ben concedes, reluctantly, 'but now there's the new 'Rock-ite' out so we played that over the weekend.'

Alfred's heart sinks. 'We?'

His friend has the grace to look as apologetic as a six year old can look about these matters but nothing more than that and at recess Alfred is alone once more. He tells himself it's okay, he doesn't care anyway but it's a half-hearted lie at best and he doesn't try to kid himself for too long. Instead, he decides he may as well sync up one of those stuffy files Pa put on the e-tab to pass the time and nibbles a cookie to keep himself entertained.

His teacher finds him gormless, ten minutes later. His eyes are glazed as he stares unblinkingly at the wall and his cookie, one chunk missing, lies forlorn on the table next to his slack left hand but his brain is more full and awake than it's ever been. Information about a long dead planet far far away pound and crash in his head and as soon as the data file has been properly synced he reaches out for his tab and loads up another.

At eight, Alfred has become that kid. No matter what conversation he gets into or who he talks to, if there is an opening or an opportunity he will bring up Earth and once that's accomplished he can go on and on for hours. He's downloaded every possible data file he can find about the entire subject: life before the Fall, the Fall itself, and the human race's desperate escape across the stars and for him it's still never enough. There's always another e-file to sync: about ancient nations, about old sciences and religions, about old wars and songs and dances and food; every second he can spare he gives over to tales of the past woven from the binary of today.

They are a scattered people, he likes to tell his listeners, there are hundreds of us, strewn across galaxies and planets and ships and no one knows how many of us there are any more because the Fall ripped apart alliances and histories so we don't even know who else is out there to find. Everything was lost, everything; the history, the stories, the places, the-

At this point, someone usually either changes the topic of conversation or he realises that they've walked away and left him babbling to himself, his eyes shut as he imagines the flight to freedom that happened too long before he was born. Adults are usually nicer and listen for longer, but they don't mean it either and by pretending to be interested in what he has to say they only serve to hurt him more.

He just can't understand, why does no one else find this interesting? Why does no one else dream of where they as a species came from and long to see it for themselves? Alfred would do anything to feel the wind on his face, to have breeze in his hair and the sun touch his skin because although he could play in a holo-room or go on a special holo-holiday it's not real and Alfred longs to just feel it. The sun on his planet is strong but the dense material of the domes blocks it from actually reaching him; he can't feel the warmth. At school he's learnt that it's too hot out there anyway and he'd die, but according to his data files the sun should be warm and gentle and fill up summer days and spring afternoons, so he can't quite feel the danger as much as he probably should. There's no air outside the domes either and what's the point of feeling the sun without a breeze, so he's not as sad as he could have been. It wouldn't ever compare to mankind's old sun, the sun in the stories he's growing up on.

He sometimes spends his recess and lunch at school rushing about as fast as his legs can carry him. Trying to get his own wind in such space is hard, but not impossible and if he focuses hard enough on his self-made breeze he can imagine that he's running over rocks and cliffs and weaving in and out of long gone animals that only the sky can remember. If this doesn't work, he syncs with his e-files to learn about something else, he's started to get into the people recently and likes the stories about normal stuff the most. Food, clothes, toys. Relatable things that he can see in his own home and use to imagine that he's been transported back through time and space.

There are often pictures of houses and Alfred marvels as how big they are and how much stuff those people must have had, collected form all the many places they must have seen. You can't get wood any more, but maybe if he asks Pa nicely he can get him some of that building material they use for making the new domes and he can practise making his own, just to see if he can.

He spends his weekends tinkering in his room with old bits of plastic, metal and cables and every now and again he plugs in a new circuit board to the plug sockets in his room and sees if he can make the lights turn on or off from somewhere else. Last weekend he built a fan and managed to make it blow. He can sync up a sound file from Earth and imagine that he's in a town somewhere way back when and there's a breeze on his face and there's someone who wants to talk to him.

Alfred is fifteen and is the best engineer in his school. He specialised early -he'd always had a knack for building things and he's good with numbers- and now this is what he's known for. Alfred can look at a electrical hub or a circuit board and immediately he can see either what's wrong or how to improve it and this makes him valuable. He's been building and fiddling with this sort of stuff in his room for ages but now it's finally cool, people actually want him to do that now. He sees it as a lucky thing, that he was bullied so much for it previously, because now he can see how much bullshit people like to throw when they want you to do something, how much an opinion of someone can change depending on their age and talent. Too good too young: weird and a nerd, you're wasting your time. Then you hit the right age and suddenly you're very experimental, very mature, it's good to know what you want in life. But ah, still young enough not to know your worth, you'll fix this for me for free, yes? If he wasn't as good as he is, he thinks, how valuable would they think I am? The answer scares him because he knows what it is and knows how thin the line he treads is; there are others like him, don't forget.

What even is he, without the skills of his hands?

He is seventeen. Alfred hates it, but Ma could use the help and Pa's not getting any younger, so he accepted an offer not too long ago for a entry level job in the government engineering department. It is an amazing offer for someone so young and fresh out of school, he knows that, but as much as he enjoys what he does the days wear him out and he spends less time listening to his e-files and more time building the dreams of others far more affluent than he.

He thinks he's doing okay for a while. The days whittle by easily and he starts to build up a nice savings pile that he uses to help out his parents every now and again. But he's nothing special. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of kids just like him on this planet who have been fed on a diet of strict, specialised schooling meant to produce only the best and Alfred knows that the only thing which sets him apart from the many many many others is his ability to just keep going. There is no safety in what he does at his age, no net to catch him if he slips up, so he begins to take on private jobs at the weekend to build up his CV further and get his name out there, making the chance of falling just that bit smaller. Before he realises it it's been a month since he last had the time set aside to listen to an e-file and that hits him, hard. He'd never had to set aside time before. Hell, he can't remember when he'd last done anything other than go to work, come home to sleep, and repeat.

He's struck by the monotony of it all. He can't see a difference between his life and that of his dad's, or his dad's friends, or anyone he knows, for that matter. Is this all there is? Is this all anyone does? When is there ever a break? Then, he gets it. There won't be a break. As soon as you can't keep up in this crazy race he's in, you're worthless. He's kind of been kidding himself, almost, that there'd be an end to it all, like a video game where you complete the level and then suddenly it's free play. You work hard to get a reward of, of something, or at least you can stop worrying and panicking about being left behind. There is no free play, he realises, it just keeps on going until you can't play any more because life has ground out your energy and sucked the vitality from your bones.

He goes running; pounding his feet on the treadmill he sucks in the humid air around him and imagines than he's running through an old Earthen jungle, dodging trees and leaping over crags in the forest floor. But there's no wind, and Earth refuses to come alive.

Alfred is eighteen. A message came through from Earth, old true Earth, that a new colony there is doing well and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it since, thinking and dreaming about what he'd do if he ever went there, if he ever set up his life there instead of here. He could...no. There is no safety in history, he knows. There is no definite chance that anyone would want him to do that. Besides, there's no potential for definite growth, no stable career plan because you can't guarantee a career on digging up the scanty past of a long dead planet. But no matter how big of a safety net he could make for himself in engineering he feels no passion about any of it and the idea of spending his days encapsulated in this metal world of domes and tunnels makes him feel cold.

There's something that calls him in his dreams and whispers over the wind in his mind and this builds and builds in his feet until he can't keep them still any longer. One more look out of the window and up at the stars and he's gonna blow, he needs to get out and go go go because if he doesn't then he's gonna sink in this place.

Before he can stop himself he's bought a ticket and finds himself packing hurriedly late at night when his parents are asleep, stuffing clothes into the only bag he only which is far too small for this sort of thing but who the fuck travels anywhere these days? He hasn't got time to be better at this so he crouches under his bed and reaches in, all the way back until his hand scrapes the wall and he finds his old fan that he built when he was eight. He puts it on his bed, places his e-tab next to it with a message of what he's done and that's that.

He slips out without waking his parents, because saying goodbye would only be too hard and he knows that he'd end up changing his mind if they spoke even one word to him, so he says his farewells in silence and disappears.

................................................................................................................................

Peter is five and he sits upon his mother's knee, playing with the buttons on her shirt. She's with other adults and they're all talking about something that he doesn't really understand but they all sound sad and the air feels heavy so he keeps quiet like a good boy should and thinks about other things to keep himself busy. He thinks about the e-book his nanny got him last Christmas, the one with the pretty pictures, and thinks that it would be nice to live inside that book, with the greens of grass that he's never touched before. He wonders if grass is hard or soft and he spends so long thinking of this that that night, when he is sleeping, he dreams that he is running on grass and it is prickly, tickling his feet.

There is a voice in the dream, singing him the story but it is not Nanny's voice, nor Mummy's or Daddy's, but another man's and the lilt of his voice sings a language Peter doesn't know but it is a good voice for story telling and so the dream is vivid and touchable. He flies through the grass, feet pounding at earth instead of metal and the voice chuckles, deep and throaty. It makes him feel safe.

He wakes up because his Mummy is stroking his hair and forgets; school teaches him about how the air system in his dome works. Grass isn't as important as breathing.

He is eight and they are learning about the old Earthen languages. There used to be many, his teachers says, and each language held a culture, a history and a soul of a people and there used to be hundreds of them on Earth before it Fell. The teacher is old; his words are flat and there is no passion in his tone, but a thrill runs up Peter's arms as he imagines so much more. From the nothing he is given his brain decides to give those dead languages life and all of a sudden there are bursts of sound echoing inside his head. The teacher moves on, the class sits bored, but Peter can hear consonants clash against teeth and tongue and fricatives slip between breathy vowels. There are phonemes which glide between dipthongs and tripthongs to bound and fall out of the hundreds of mouths of hundreds of people; whispers of a past no one can hear tell stories long forgotten.

There is a clap very close to his head which scares all of the sounds away. His teacher looms over him, frowning in exasperation.

'Again, Peter?' he says, 'Stop daydreaming, boy. I asked you a question.'

'Er...' his classmates snicker and he feels his ears go red. 'I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't listening.'

'That much was obvious.'

Peter's cheeks burn hotter and he stares at his e-tab, focusing on the light of the screen to stop him from crying.

Before too long the lesson changes, then the day ends and he's allowed to go home. He walks alone through the corridors and exits the school dome, coming into the shuttle bus bay. He's a big boy now, he can take the shuttle bus all by himself and he has a special card to prove it. Weaving in and out of the other children, he hurries to where his bus is docked and scrambles inside to rush to his favourite seat, hopping up and placing his bag on the seat beside him. He likes to sit alone, because then he can stare out of the window and dream for as long as the journey will let him without worrying about talking to someone. Not that anyone wants to anyway, the other children say he's not got a brain because he would rather focus on the story in his head than on their silly games.

Nanny doesn't mind, she says it's good for people to dream and says that he goes off to somewhere called 'Neverland' whilst she pinches his cheeks and calls him her little Peter Pan. But when he gets home Nanny isn't there, Mummy and Daddy are and they're huddled in front of the large e-screen in the sitting room, faces pinched in worry.

He drops his bag by the kitchen table and goes to join them. There is a man on the screen speaking about their air ventilation system and a 'catastrophic degradation' and about some big numbers with a scientist nodding seriously to his left.

'What do we do now?' His mother's voice is hushed, fragile.

His father raises his eyes to her and shakes his head slowly. 'Debbie... you heard what he said. The planet's no longer viable.' His eyes flick towards Peter, suddenly aware that he's there too, and he smiles although it doesn't reach his eyes. 'Hey Pete. Do you mind doing your homework in your room today?'

Peter could ask why, but he sees that his Daddy doesn't want him to and Mummy looks like she's going to cry, so he glances once more at the screen and nods. He leaves them with the scary looking numbers and tips his books onto his bed. That night he dreams of waves crashing against his legs and he tastes the salt on his lip when he wakes.

At nine, there's some breaking news. Earth, of all things Earth, is habitable once more and it can't come at a better time. Peter sits on his favourite sofa at Nan's house, with his father having lunch, when the planet-wide intercom coughs its way to life and briefly deafens them all before the sound adjusts ever so slightly.

'ATTENTION ALL. PRIMARY SUPPORT SYSTEMS FOR THE SOUTH SIDE HAVE SUFFERED AN IRREPERABLE MALFUNCTION. BACKUP SYSTEMS WILL HOLD FOR APPROXIMATLY 3 HOURS AND 45 MINUTES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL; MAKE YOUR WAY TO YOUR EVACUATION POINTS.'

Then, it falls silent once more.

South side, that's them. Peter immediately feels as though he's going to be sick and by the look on his dad's face he's not alone. Once one half of the planet goes the other will surely follow. It's something they've all been expecting and planning for for years, but it's far, far too soon, they should have more time than this; they're not ready to go and the government's not even started the evacuation programme yet. His Nan shoots a look at his father from where she's sat in her armchair. It's a look Peter can't really read because there's something there that he subconsciously doesn't want to acknowledge.

'Earth?' Her voice is a thin whisper.

His father nods gravely. 'We got them Mum, the tickets came yesterday.' Peter's heart briefly lifts at the prospect, a longing that's deep and euphoric but then it crashes quickly. 'But...'

His Nan smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. 'I know.'

Slowly, with growing horror, Peter understands. 'Wait,' he whips his head back and forth between the two of them, 'Nanny, where-'

'Don't worry, Peter,' she gets up and goes to kneel in front of where he's frozen in his chair, hands digging nails into the old material, 'I'll get on one of the other evacuation ships.'

'But you're not-,' his eyes burn and his voice is breaking but he doesn't look away, 'but you're not with us, why aren't you coming with us.'

'Oh Peter, my little Peter Pan,' she hugs him tight, pulling him in to her chest and he grips his hands in her shirt and tries to take in as much of her as he can.

'Mum we- we have to go.' Dad doesn't sound much better and before Peter can register much his Dad is hugging his Nan with a funny tight look on his face, then he's being pulled by the arm and out of the door, stumbling over his feet as he tries to keep up.

A terse shuttle bus later they get home to his mother already throwing their things into cases and boxes, haphazardly grabbing at e-frames and e-tabs to squash them and their memories safe under piles of their clothes. Peter could help, should help, but all he can do it sit numbly on the floor and cry whilst his life is collected and contained into a few measly bags. The rest will be left.

It doesn't take too long, thankfully, as Peter doesn't know what's worse, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible or wanting to stay and cling to the remnants of the only life he's ever known. As they make their way to the loading bays for the Earth-bound travellers he blearily finds himself thinking about what classes he'll miss in school tomorrow, but then he remembers Nanny and the ordeal starts anew as reality sets back in.

His parents are focused on more practical things.

They stand in line, their few pieces on luggage already being loaded on, and wait to board the ship they were assigned to only yesterday. His mother speaks under her breath, as if she is afraid to talk too loudly for fear of jinxing something. 'The Earth ships aren't even ready. They won't have enough food let alone rooms.'

His father shakes his head and slips his hand down to intertwine with hers. 'They must have known something like this could happen at any time, they've been predicting it for years. If anything, the rooms may not be ready but the agricultural sections will be.' He looks determinedly at the back of the head of the man in front of them and swallows. 'They only give out tickets if there's room. We'll be fine.'

Peter's mother glances his way meaningfully, and then back to his father.

'Jo, there're not enough ships; no one was ready in time. They can't have planned for everyone.' She bites the inside of her cheek, one hand on Peter's shoulder. Her fingers dig in, hard, but he doesn't try to shrug her off. He can barely feel it.

His father understands. 'She'll call us when she can.' Then, the line moves and they lurch forward together, huddled close.

Just before the door, where the tickets are being checked and where the din of the engines roaring into life starts to become uncomfortable, his father takes one last desperate look at out of the window at the distant domes of their colony, nestled in the dust. He taps an impatient rhythm against the tiled floor. 'She'll call.'

She never does.

................................................................................................................................

Francis is three and his daddy has just left Mummy.

'He went to fight,' she says as she strokes his hair. This confuses him because fighting is bad and you're only allowed to fight if someone tries to fight you first and no one has been nasty to Daddy that he's seen.

Mummy doesn't answer but continues to stroke his hair, humming softly a tune she sings to him every night before bed that sounds old and sad and sleepy, so he just nods and rests his head heavily against her chest.

He doesn't see his Daddy again.

He is ten when he realises that there never was any war. The notion strikes him dumb one day in the kitchen as he distantly listens to the news playing through the announcer when he helps wash up after dinner. The announcer is speaking about something banal, a fashion show maybe, but Francis is staring out of the window and up at the sky, up at the stars that push through the daytime's thin atmosphere. He doesn't know what caused him to start this train of thought, but once it's started his brain quickly pieces together the puzzle that it has ignored all of this time.

At school they were taught about wars, about age old battles with guns and swords and metal where blood was spilt over land and the wealth it contained. But, there hasn't been any fighting here. He scrubs a glass, sponge squeaking against the side. And even if there was fighting somewhere far away, his dad would surely still be able to write or visit, or come back after all this time. And more importantly, if there was a war going on now then surely he would have learnt about it at school, rather than learning about age old political struggles on the human-ruined home world.

His mother takes the glass from his slack grip. 'Daydreaming?'

He shakes himself to and looks at her. Turned away and out of the window her face is suddenly older and oddly clearer than he remembers it being, she looks like a person rather than just his mother and that's a scary thought. It's as though the wash of childhood has momentarily slipped away and he's now aware of both it and the harsh brushstrokes of reality. She's a person and feels things, just like he does. So it hurts, that she lied, and it will hurt him for a long time because he doesn't know why but cannot for the life of him bring himself to ask her. Francis is good at reading people and he knows that this isn't something he should ask about, so turns back to the dirty dishes and doesn't.

When Francis is fifteen there is a war, of sorts. The planet nearest to them, the one they rely on the most for trade, switches governmental policies and refuses to continue their current agreements. This results in a breakdown of communication and heightened tension between the two colonies, each bristling angrily at the offence yet unwilling to be the first to initiate anything rash. There is minor rationing imposed upon Francis' planet until trade is re-established as well as a draft of specialisation training implemented, just in case. He's unaffected by the rationing; the draft is a different story. Just in case this trade block becomes permanent, his planet needs to be prepared to become fully self sufficient in everything from science, to food, to art, to the army.

The block stays in place and tensions rise. Against his wishes, Francis is assigned a scientific draft. He is now seventeen and knows he needs to be given something but he'd prefer agriculture or education to research, if he could have the choice, or the arts if he's allowed to dream. He isn't. He brain is good, his grades are high and thus he is far more useful to the cause working on the advancement of his planet than working to help feed it.

A few days after his birthday and a month after his posting letter arrives, his mother rides with him on a shuttle to his boarding station. He will try out four different areas: mechanics, medicine, biology, and physics, then he will be assigned to what he works with best, where he can produce the best work possible. But Francis can't think of anything worse than being stuck in a lab all day, shutters drawn and devoid of all personality. Even worse, he's heard the rumours that have managed to float back from those who have graduated and knows that once he boards this ship there's no escaping the life he'll be moulded into. The programme is four years long and then he will be placed into a job where he will stay until he dies. At twenty one he will have no other skills for work other than what he will acquire at the science facility, there is no swapping careers afterwards. He wants to do so much, there is so much that he loves to do, and with each passing shuttle stop his heart grows more frantic, fighting his brain which has accepted the inevitable.

He gets physics. He calls his mother to howl down the phone once, just once, before he realises the futility of doing so; nothing can or will change. Accept it.

At twenty, a year before his training would end, there is finally a truce. Trade resumes and Francis finally tastes sugar after five years but now, after so long, the taste is too much. Not fully qualified yet too old to be automatically accepted into another programme, Francis is in limbo. There isn't much point in him continuing his training, there are more than enough specialists now and not enough jobs to give them, so there isn't anything for him to do. It's odd, now that there is nothing to work towards he feels empty but at the same time everything is just too much. He returns home and his mother fusses and tries to talk to him, tries to get him to come out of his room and sit with her and he did, at first, but the longer he's home the shorter his resistance is and the longer the 'breaks' are in his room.

Emotions seem to be harder to process without a goal, that or he never had many to begin with and without something to distract him from that notion he's finally noticing how few he has. Either way, other people are small insignificant creatures who worry about such useless, banal things. Who did what, with who and where. Did you know, her son the doctor? Well, he's a you know what now and- ugh. Francis can no longer take it.

He doesn't really see this as a problem. He feels as though he's risen above other people and finally understands that such things are not worth his time; why worry, after all, about what job to get. Why worry about whether or not someone likes you. Every day, regardless of what they do, the planet will spin and the domes will reflect the same bleak, churning sky and Francis realises that he's trapped here, by this life and that his life means nothing. None of their lives do, it's all the same; nowhere new to go, nothing new to do. Pick a job, do the job. Come home, go back. Retire. Die.

So he sits in his room, because if he talks to his mother or to anyone else he is reminded that somehow he's supposed to care about it, that life here is supposed to matter to him just as it matters to everyone else. His mother will mention this or that and he'll have to either fake the responses she wants, or not and upset her and neither option sounds pleasing to him.

After years of monotony and training suddenly he is permitted to express again and it's like he's forgotten how, the parts rusty after all the disuse. There are too many emotions and he finds himself forgetting to use them or using the wrong ones because he can't do them automatically any more, for some reason, and reactions that call for an understanding of nuance are just lost to him. Very quickly everything is too much. Food, heat, depth, people, concepts, everything.

He hides away but then they stop becoming too much and they shrink and shrivel up and become nothing at all he can feel how empty he is. Nothing can fill the void he's got because he doesn't even know why it's there and he can scarcely tell that there's a problem in the first place. He does knows he's got a problem though, really, knows how serious it is by the way his mother watches him with fearful eyes and baleful glances. She tiptoes tentatively around the house, carefully softening her words and her gentleness feels like a pressure cooker slowly but surely building something that's going to get bigger and hotter and harder to make go away. She avoids talking about it, about how Francis feels or doesn't, and by doing so the problem is allowed to grow, unchecked. Francis doesn't have to act any more, doesn't have to pretend, and so the feelings of apathy grow and grow until they swallow him whole and all he can bring himself to do is sit and stare and the sky, a dark choking yellow.

It feels heavy to look at, like a lid covering everything in his life, all potential, all future, all growth. It just festers and sinks lower and lower still and he sits and watches it for days before he's realised he's done so.

When Francis is twenty-two, his mother breaks. Not that she herself breaks, but her patience does.

'I can't do this any more.' she says. There are tears on her face and Francis watches one slide off and fall onto her collar. 'You need to go.'

Francis appraises her properly, meeting her eyes. She flinches at his gaze but remains resolute in her decision, though her bottom lip quivers. 'There's nothing for you here, we both know that. You don't want to be here, so you need to go.'

'I don't want to be anywhere.' he replies.

She gives him a watery smile. 'I know. That's why, you might as well see if you can want to be somewhere else.' She lifts up her arm and shows him her e-tab, the translucent screen showing a brightly coloured ticket. 'I've bought you a flight. It's Earth, it was declared habitable a few weeks ago.'

Francis knows he should feel something, this is one of those instances when he knows that he should be feeling something but he can't quite imagine what emotion he should give her.

She doesn't seem to expect one. 'It's one way. And this, this is all of my savings, Francis.' Her eyes are wide and her face is suddenly so very very old. 'If you don't want to be any more, at least make that decision once you've seen this. You can't go without seeing this, after all. See this, see it for me and then you can decide, okay?'

Suddenly she looks shocked and runs forward to embrace him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and knocking her e-tab into his face. The garish purple of the ticket burns his eyes. 'Oh Francis.' She sobs into his shoulder and clutches tightly into his shirt. 'Oh Francis it's okay, you can cry if you want to.'

Oh.

He's crying.

................................................................................................................................

Ludwig is six, and is sick again. The doctors don't know what's wrong with him; they know what's causing it at least but they have no idea why. He can't keep food down and every time he tries to stand the world pitches and swims and he can't keep his balance so he never manages to stay up for long before he bonelessly falls to the floor, where he feels no better.

It's the gravity, the doctors say, for some reason he's affected by the gravity. The artificial gravity that he's known all his life; it's as if he's just climbed aboard and his body suffers from relapses where it just can't acclimatise. Where it suddenly realises that something's not quite right and rebels against him for a week or so. This his family already knows, but his mother isn't satisfied with such a lacklustre answer so she takes him to a different doctor every time he suffers another attack just in case one of them is even marginally more competent than the last. These 'episodes', as his mother likes to call them, don't happen all that often, but he seems to have one every ten months or so and they are regular enough to annoy his mother to no end. Ludwig doesn't really know if she's annoyed that no one can fix him or with him himself, Gilbert won't say and normally his big brother talks to pretend that he knows something so his silence worries Ludwig the most.

Mother is a very important person with a very important job: she's a governor of the space station upon which they live and it is very important that Ludwig remembers this. So, when he's laying in bed clutching at his belly and desperately clenching his eyes shut to minimise the swaying, his friends at school think that he is away for a special training academy. Because can you just imagine, the governor of a space station's son being space sick?

His father doesn't like to call it that because he thinks it's degrading so his mother doesn't, when she thinks Ludwig can't hear, anyway, but Ludwig knows that's what the kids at school would say so he happily keeps mum because it's easier than lying. They don't talk to him much besides, they find him too cold and distant but that's because he's so scared of disgracing his mother further that he can't quite relax fully.

When Ludwig is thirteen his mother, after exhausting all doctors aboard their large floating colony, finally accepts that it's unlikely that this small problem of his is going to go away. Her way of dealing with it is to pretend that it just doesn't happen; during an attack Ludwig is sent to his room where he stays painfully alone with only his books for company whilst she busies herself with her new campaigns. She's running for director now, aiming as high as she can go and there's no room for weak, feeble Ludwig all the way up there.

His brother tries his best to keep him entertained and happy during these times, but Gilbert is healthy, strong, smart; he's everything that Ludwig should also be able to grow up to be and their parents have sent him off to expensive schools which means that he's more often away from home than not. Sometimes Ludwig wonders if they've sent him away because they want Gilbert to be the all around best he can be, or if it's to distance him as much as they can from Ludwig. It's almost as if they're worried that Ludwig will taint him, or that maybe Gilbert will grow too attached to him and distract himself from what's really important. That Ludwig will anchor him down.

At five years older it's highly unlikely that Ludwig will be the one doing the influencing, but his brother, despite hardly seeing each other and such a large age difference, does seem to genuinely care for him. During one particular attack, when Ludwig is eighteen, Gilbert is home from university; it is almost Christmas and his family are preparing to travel to where his grandparents live on the other side of the space station, where they'll spend the holiday. Of course, it is now that his body decides to betray him.

He, his parents, and his brother are gathered around the large dining room table finishing off dinner. It is tense. Mostly it is Gilbert who talks because despite their mother's cool demeanour and their father's lack of interest he seems to always have something to say to fill the silence and speaks easily. Even with the response he gets, or lack of it, he seems honestly unperturbed and remains cheerful, somehow managing to both eat and speak without seeming impolite. As much as he loves his brother, Ludwig is also supremely jealous.

He stares at his fork, contemplating which point in the evening would be best to ask if he could slip away, when his body decides for him. His stomach swoops, his ears pop and the table tilts alarmingly. He clenches the edge in panic to remain upright and the noise alerts his mother, who looks up from her dessert in irritation.

'Ludwig, we are going away tomorrow.'

'M- mother-'

His mother sighs and looks at his father, who sharply stares back. 'Dear?'

His father grunts and spears another forkful of fruit pie. 'They're expecting him to come.'

'But the photographers-'

'What do you want me to do, Hilda?'

Meanwhile, Ludwig has still not been dismissed and cannot now seem to find the words to ask for permission himself without spewing all over the fancy silverware. He doubts that that will make the situation better, somehow. Gilbert notices and stands, attracting his parents' attention.

'I'll take Luddy to his room.'

'Darling...' their mother tries to say something, but it's what she's trying not to say that comes across the loudest.

Gilbert ignores her and walks around the table, slowly helping Ludwig to his feet, then away from the table and swiftly towards a bathroom. They make it just in time. Gilbert pats him comfortingly on the back and rubs soothing circles into his shoulders until he's finished, then hands him a glass of water.

'So, they're still arseholes, huh?'

Ludwig snaps his head up in horror, but this is a bad idea because the image of Gilbert swims before him and he has to shut his eyes.

'Don't call them that.' He finally manages, weakly.

Gilbert tuts. 'What the fuck did they feed you with in order to churn your personality out.'

Ludwig lays his head on the cool tiles of the floor and groans inwardly at how nice the feeling is. 'They're not arseholes.'

'Yeah, and my name's Shirley.'

Ludwig cracks open an eye, but Gilbert's not joking. He is, for once, deadly serious. 'How'd you put up with them Lud?'

Ludwig shrugs and gives a small shake of his head. 'They're our parents, Gil. They still care for me. Besides, I'm not exactly making it easy for them.'

Gilbert looks disgusted. 'You're their fucking son, arsehole. They're supposed to take care of you. They ain't even doing that right are they?' Gilbert runs a hand through his shock of white hair and bits his bottom lip whilst he shakes his head. 'Look at how they treat you versus me.'

'Yes, but I'm not exactly-'

'But nothing!' Gilbert raises his voice slightly and swallows. When he speaks again, he's much quieter, back under control. 'Have they got you in a university programme yet?'

Ludwig's silence is answer enough and Gilbert sighs deeply before brushing back Ludwig's sweaty fringe. 'There's nothing wrong with you Lud.' His brother sounds so very sad. 'Fuck, there's nothing wrong with you at all. They know full well that if they put you on a planet rather than this floating heap of rust that you'll probably be alright. And have they? Have they fuck.'

Ludwig wants to argue against him, wants to say something to stand up for himself if not for their parents but his eyes are suddenly burning and his throat is choked up. He knew a long time ago that his parents had given up on him, but to hear it from someone else hurts more sharply than anything he tells himself.

There's an odd companionable silence for a while; Ludwig lays still with his face against the floor and his brother's hand carding through his hair so he almost misses what Gilbert says next.

'I was gonna wait till Boxing Day, but I've got us tickets for Earth.'

Ludwig tenses and holds his breath. Gilbert continues. 'I was gonna wake you up on the 26th and take you away with me, but I want to tell you now instead, cause you look like shit. We're gonna get out of here Luddy; I've always wanted to take you to a planet and what better one is there than the original, huh?'

'You, I- you can't- what about your studies? The internship you've got?' Ludwig manages to stammer out, opening his eyes.

Gilbert brushes his concerns aside. 'I never liked medicine, really. I've always wanted to go to a planet, so I'm mega up for it.'

Ludwig knows he should say no, knows that he shouldn't take up the offer. He'd be denying his brother so much, he'd be exactly what their parents worried he'd be because he'll only drag Gilbert down and down and down like a heavy lead weight and ruin all of his chances at a good life.

But Ludwig wants to be selfish. He reaches out and clasps onto Gilbert's hand, squeezing it tightly. 'Gil...'

Gilbert flashes him a grin and winks. 'I know, right? How awesome am I?'

#my writing #hetalia #aph #APH England #APH France #aph america #aph germany #aph prussia #aph sealand #aph canada #aph fruk #fruk #au #sci-fi #hws fruk #oh no what am i doing #something is cooking that's for sure

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goodpeachtea · 4 years ago

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥. (𝟎𝟏)

Summary: People could say that Baby was crazy, so they could say that hell is more preferable than spending a day with her. Baby agreed. But no one could say that the girl was not a genius or that she was like everyone else. Baby Jones was special - yes, she could be a nicer special type, but anyway, special.

Couple: Spencer Reid x OC.

Words: 3.9K

Warnings: Cigarettes, mention of murder, slightly PTSD, language.

Author’s Note: In case you want to know, the fanfic starts in the middle-end of the third season - and I hope it goes to infinity and beyond! Many of the cases we will see here are original (including the one briefly mentioned in the first chapter). Hope you like it :)

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(𝟎𝟏). 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖡𝖤𝖦𝖨𝖭𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖮𝖥 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖤𝖭𝖣.

JINGLE BELLS PLAYED IN THE BACKGROUND. Children laughed, adults toasted and Baby Jones felt this strange discomfort in her chest as she turned the pages of Alice in Wonderland. The child wanted to be reading one of the "grown-up" classics but was caught trying to reach David Copperfield, causing an accident that involved Les Misérables falling on her head - that experience could be compared to being hit by a brick. December 25th was a big day for the Jones family (more than it was for the other families). The unique and loved Baby was born in Christmas and, as much as she didn’t aprecciated much events like that at a young age, even the most distant cousins came from afar to celebrate the mix of birthday with Christmas.

Baby could have sworn she saw figures out the window, but supposed it was just in her head. Before turning her eyes to the book she was reading, she observed all of her family members as happy as ever - almost as if they knew that this would be the last party they were going to celebrate - with a slight smile and noticed her parents approaching. "We have a gift for you, dear," said her mother Marie Ann.

– I have to admit that I was totally against it, but your sister is good with sweet talk, no wonder she is a lawyer. – Said her father, Thomas Jones, pointing to Baby's older sister, who smiled and gave a little thumbs up (after playing an important role in the accident that led to Baby's name, the smart Amelie always insisted in pampering the peculiar child).

The eight-year-old Jones smiled, realizing that the gift was a book the second she put her eyes on the package. She opened the red package slowly, loving to see the suffering in the eyes of those who waited anxiously to see her reaction. She opened her mouth in genuine surprise when she saw David Rossi's book in her hands, thanking her parents and siblings who watched her from afar. The girl had wanted that book for a long time, but her parents insisted that it was worrying for a girl her age to read a book about serial killers.

The Jones were not nearly the perfect family, but they were a good family. They were extremely genuine and fun, and their children couldn't be much different. The oldest was Amelie, 26 years old. She was extremely studious and hardworking, but when she met her family, Mellie was the same old goofy and good sister and daughter. Then there was Owen. The computer genius was 21 years old and was a problem for his neighbors, but everyone who approached him enough could only see kindness and fun in the Jones children. The youngest of the family was AJ (short for Alexander Jones, but he decided to hate the name early). The little one was only five, but it was the family's energy boost, always playing pranks and cheering others up.

Then there was Baby left. Nobody could understand her very well (and that was reason enough to send her to the psychologist early) and she didn't seem to care that much. It was a fact that the second youngest in the Jones family was loved by her family, but that did not stop her strange behavior from always standing out.

And everything changed in a snap. The night of December 25 until 20:11 that was perfect suddenly turned into Hell. And suddenly, "bang!", the beginning of the end.

The only Jones gasped, and with wide eyes she rose from the bed, sighing heavily. Her brain quickly processed that it was all just a goddamn dream tormenting her again, causing teenage Jones to swallow, closing her eyes in relief and wiping the cold sweat from her forehead and neck. She looked at the digital clock on her head table, seeing the numbers 4:18AM flashing red (so she blew out a surprised breath, noting that she managed to sleep more than usual).

Baby opened her windows and checked that her door was locked, thanking that today Sophie decided that she would want to sleep with the other children. Jones tied her red hair awkwardly, opening her desk drawer and under her coat she found the pack of cigarettes she shouldn't be using, taking out a lighter from the same place and throwing herself on the bed, lighting a cigarette and looking at the ceiling .

The teen took the first drag and as she blew out the smoke, her heart calmed down and for a moment no part of her mind was in 10 years ago, the nightmare of just now being slightly forgotten. Jones hated being part of statistics, but what could she do when she went through times of crisis? She didn't drink hidden or smoke in the corners because other teenagers did, Baby did it because she needed to - or at least she thought she did.

She closed her eyes in anger and tightened her jaw when between a drag and another flashes of the final days of 1997 invaded her head. Baby jumped up from the bed, pausing for a second before punching her mirror, thinking about the noise it would cause, waking up all the inhabitants of the Sunshine Orphanage - the ironic thing is that Jones' days there always felt like rainy days. The girl took her battered backpack and stuffed her pack of cigarettes with her other items, sneaking out the window.

It was usual for Baby Marie to do that, to try to escape from her reality. She never managed to be very successful on that mission, but that didn't stop her from trying again and again. Baby always arrived before the women who looked after her got up, not wanting bars on her window. The girl sighed as she walked the dark streets of Washington, heading toward a lonely, quiet corner where her chances of being murdered increased. But for her, the feeling was that dawn was always safer. That was the time of peace that the redhead would have, after having to put up with noisy children, adolescents in internal combustion and her own brain devoid of any distraction.

The little 17-year-old found herself in a park a few minutes later, avoiding children's toys and places where drunks tend to pass. She also ignored the copy of David Copperfield in her backpack, looking away and just searching for the anatomy book she picked up from the library. She spent a long time there, clearing her mind and although sleepy, more awake than ever. The only thing that distracted her from her inner peace that lasted a few minutes was the ringing of her old cell phone and the name David Rossi on her broken screen.

– Rossi? Why are you calling me? – An angry teenager grumbled in her cellphone, rubbing her dark circles and curious about the subject that the longtime acquaintance wanted to talk about. – It's fucking 5AM.

– I know you were already awake and I kinda need your help, kiddo.

David Rossi sighed, not believing he was going to do that. Baby, in the other side, gave up of her grumpy behavior and smiled, knowing how that conversation would end. She bit her lips and hoped that the most evil of the evil criminals would be out there, killing lots and lots of people - and Baby could try, but she would not feel any kind of remorse about her thoughts. "I heard you are back in the business. Tell me about it, Italy, what can I do to save your and Gideon's ass?".

– Gideon it's not in the BAU anymore, Baby. – He told, looking around to make sure no one was listening to his phone call.

– Oh, crap. But okay, boo-hoo. Moving on, let's talk about dead bodies and serial killers.

Rossi almost laughed of Baby's behavior, because it would be funny if it wasn't sad. Baby was, after all, an almost eighteen-years-old which the happiest part of the day was imagining what bloody crimes she could solve - or commit, depending on her mood. The only Jones couldn't feel sorry for Jason Gideon farewell, even if she was alive because of him or if he made her life a little bit more happy (or rather, less unhappy) asking for help when his cases entered a dead-end.

– That will count as a "S.O.S BABY"? – David said smiling, making the young girl laugh a little. – Yeah, Gideon left me a note that explained the conditions for me.

– And he told you that if you guys used one more of those I would maybe be joining you as the youngest F.B.I agent?

– Actually, the note said that you would try to trick me when we still have five S.O.S's left. – Baby cursed the old man, while Rossi tried to figured out what could he do when his chances where actually over.

Baby made a deal with Gideon, that's what this whole "S.O.S BABY" was all about. Jones was special, she could think as the unsub, and as the victim. He needed help, she needed a reason. When the profiler did fifty phone calls to the teenager, she would have a chance to prove herself capable of - breaking all the possible rules - making part of the F.B.I. Everything about it was wrong: first, Baby should be protected by the Bureau, not part of it; second, she cannot even drink legally, she is a child; third, would it be responsible to put someone with serious psychological problems holding a gun? Jason Gideon didn't put a lot of thought when he agreed with that deal, and now the problem was in the hands of David Rossi.

– Now, you wanna help me or not?

Some of the other FBI agents couldn't help but notice the oldest of them suddenly withdrawing, calling someone - almost like calling a dealer, looking sideways and reluctantly - and referring to that person as "baby". The famous David entered the sheriff's office in Rosenberg, Texas and closed the blinds, raising more suspicions among members of the Behavior Analysis Unit team.

“Did you hear what I heard?”, asked JJ, smiling broadly and exchanging shrewd looks with Derek and Emily. “It looks like the fourth Miss Rossi is coming!”, laughed the handsome Morgan, while Reid arrived without knowing what was happening and asking why they were laughing.

– It´s adult talk, kid. – Emily teased, ruffling the taller boy's hair, who grimaced and mumbled something about him not being a child. – I have to say, I didn't expect to hear Rossi call a woman "baby". It's quite young for him, isn’t it?

The subject soon changed when technical analyst Penelope Garcia arrived with bad news regarding the research she had done for the case. Again, that case was clueless and more difficult to resolve than ever. The unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, approached when he noticed the expressions of defeat of the four BAU agents regarding the case of men of different social status and equally handsome being brutally murdered by stab wounds and being left in random places in the city in the southern United States.

"I got something," David S. Rossi announced, leaving the office excitedly after spending a lot of time inside, while the rest of the team discussed theories that were soon refuted. "I think that our unsub is actually a women. Well, kinda. It was right in front of us the whole time!"

– We have already discussed the possibility of our unsub being a woman, David. It is impossible, all men were physically fit. – Aaron said, sighing and annoyed that they weren't getting a result.

Rossi ignored what his boss said, remembering the smart point of view that Baby Jones provided him. “When we went to visit Mrs. Wilson's office, the wife of the fourth victim and the psychologist of the second one, we recorded her statement, remember? Her husband had not yet been murdered and she did not want to leave her office”, Hotch, the one who were at the interview with the brand new suspect, agreed.

– Yes, she looked quite shocked up that her patient was murdered.

– And maybe she was quite of an actress. – David suggested, carefully examining the record they had about Mrs. Wilson. – Me and... I watched the recording again and a detail caught my attention: doctors, like a psychologist, display diplomas on walls and shelves, where patients can see them. It causes an immediate feeling of respect and trust. The family photos, however, are on the table, sometimes even hidden in the drawer, just for the doctor to see. It is an involuntary action, nobody wants mentally unstable people watching their life, their family. But look at Ms. Wilson's office, photos of her children at the table, facing her, while photos of her husband - and her husband alone - are on display everywhere, in the most eye-catching spots possible. Look at this! Who puts a 12 by 12 inch portrait of the spouse on the office wall?

– Yeah, I thought that was weird too, but that doesn't mean she is a murderer. We knew that her husband was possessive and abusive, he was jealous of all the people around her. It is perfectly possible that he told her to put those pictures like that so that her patients would know that, well, "she already belonged to someone".

“I don’t think so. My point is that Linda Wilson was directing the anger of one of her patients to Mr. Wilson“. Everyone stopped for a minute and thought about the theory, seeing the picture filled with theories and crime scene photos, along with the documents, and seeing that it might actually be right.

– But what about the other victims? – The Special Agente Jareau asked, pointing to the pictures of the men hanging on the board.

– Distractions. Mrs. Wilson is an extremely intelligent woman. If only her husband were killed, suspicions would fall on her right away.

“I trust you, Dave. Morgan and Prentiss, bring Linda Wilson to the police station, say we need to ask some questions”, ordered Hotch, the pair waving quickly and heading for the black SUV. “JJ and I are going to get a warrant to get everything Doctor Wilson has about her patients. You and Reid stay here and review what we already have, try to find more things that point to our suspect or anything that will help us find the killer”.

ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA - EIGHT HOURS LATER.

Baby Jones was never the most adored girl in school. It was not a matter of popular and outcast, blond and brunette, intelligence or ignorance. It was a matter of Baby was a fucking pain in the ass. Jones knew. She knew that everyone around her hated her. And what could she do? She liked it. See, don't get me or Baby wrong. What could I say besides the pure truth about the girl who moves our pages? The fact that she is so stupidly annoying, rude and is a horror movie tucked into 5 feets and looks of a fairy. It is difficult for anyone to describe how horrible Baby Jones is, but, my dear reader, I will do everything to show the indescribable annoyance of our (not so) beloved young woman. Everything has a reason. We can't blame Baby for being the devil on earth. She herself says, "Everything I do is for a reason" and who are we to go against a mentally unstable redhead who knows how to shoot. Jones is, after all, one of the only people who have the slightest right to be a little irritating in the face of everything she has been through. Of course, nobody expected her to use this right with such enthusiasm, but my point is: Baby Jones is broken and with fewer screws on her head, try to take it easy.

– Jones, put out that cigarette!

Baby smiled at the shout from her Physical Education teacher as she passed her high school football court, backpack on her shoulder and cigarette between her lips. He ignored the athletic students going around and the girls playing soccer, looking at Mrs. Smith, the couch.

– Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. – She screamed back at Smith, seeing her head shake, sighing and turning her attention to the students who deserved her concern - deep down, she felt sorry for Baby, but it was easier to feel angry. The students around her looked at the redhead, never ceasing to be surprised by the behavior of the well-known Jones.

The bad-habits girl patted her jeans pockets when she heard her battered phone ring, knowing who the call was coming from and what the news was. No one else made calls to her, so David Rossi was the only possible name to be on the display of Baby’s cell phone.

“Did you catch the guy?”, Jones asked, ignoring greetings and good manners (which was somewhat usual). She was always excited to know about cases and thrilled when it was possible for her to help. “Of course we did, bambina! I had your help.”

– Yeah, what was I thinking? Of course you would get the guy with my help. I saved your ass. You and these BAU idiots would be screwed if it weren't for me.

– Always very humble, huh? And respect, girl, these "BAU idiots" may be the ones who will decide your future, if you're going to be an FBI agent. – Rossi warned, his voice low because he was on the jet, next to the agents who (theoretically) were sleeping.

– So, I was right, wasn't I? Let me guess, did the psychologist give steroids to her homicidal patient? – Baby ignored the older man's comment, while walking towards the school entrance.

– How did you...?

"Try to keep up: depression, anxiety, probably abused by the father. He kills handsome men and someone could interpret it as if he were envious of the victims. But I'm not someone, am I, Rossi? Mistreated by the father, men do not usually make fun of the appearance of other men in this way. No, but they make fun of the lack of "masculinity". He didn't kill these men because he wants to be them, he killed because he was attracted to them”, Baby spoke fast, her reasoning at incredible speed. Dave smiled on the other end of the phone, never failing to feel proud of Baby's skills. “He went to a psychologist looking for help, hating himself and disgusting his sexuality. Linda Wilson, a woman with an attractive but scoundrel husband, saw an opportunity to get rid of her husband once and for all, seeing the unsub's homicidal potential. Instead of giving him tranquilizers or some shit like that, she gave him steroids, leaving the man on edge.”

– You are absolutely right. And the curious thing is that the first victim was in fact homosexual, but the others were straight men that Patrick Thomas, the unsub, believed were trying to attract him, trying to make him sin, when they were not even doing anything.

– I can't say that I don't know what that is. – Baby murmured to herself, pressing her jaw in anger as Rossi heard the comment and felt his heart ache.

Rossi sighed at the feeling that remained in the air at the girl's comment, even if it wasn't even Jones’s intent to say it out loud. "Baby... you know what day is coming, don't you?", he said on a sigh, reluctantly. He noticed the silence of the call being interrupted twice by the younger woman's shaky voice, who stopped talking immediately, not wanting to show weakness. “Yes”, she spoke simply, never being able to forget the meaning of December 25th.

– I know the emotions that day brings to you and...

– No, you don’t. – Aggressive as ever when the subject was brought up, Baby looked around, always feeling watched when someone starts talking about that 1997 season. – You don’t and we don’t need to talk about it.

– I’m sorry. But along with... that, comes your birthday. Baby, I know you're pissed at me right now, but we need to talk about it. This year is important, things will change, you will have to find a place to live and I...

– You...?

– I'll try to get you on the FBI. – He whispered reluctantly, knowing the commotion of the little redhead on the other state, happy to know that he softened the previous conversation. – Know that I'm not promising anything. You will probably have to train a lot and start doing ridiculous jobs for your skills, but if you want to be a profiler you have to prove yourself in there. You’re still too young.

“Trust me, sir, I going to prove that I can beat some sick minds even if I'm cleaning the floor, making coffee or printing papers”, she smiled, feeling more excited by the news. Baby saw children approaching - children from her orphanage that she would have to take “home” - and then sighed, knowing that her life would not be based on what she was good doing for a long time before Rossi took her out of Alexandria, “I need to go”. “Try not to get yourself in too big of a trouble, I don't have the guts to put a delinquent in the Bureau”.

– I can’t promise anything. – The ginger quoted him from earlier, hearing a laugh. – And Rossi...

– Yes, kiddo?

– Hum, I... – Jones bit her lip, gulping and arching her shoulders in discomfort.

– I know, Baby. – It was hard for her, he knew it. – You’re welcome.

Spencer Reid really felt guilty about listening to the conversation - or at least, David's part of the conversation. But what could he do? He was lying on the seat of the jet, with his eyes closed and his mind totally active and uncomfortable, he having to fight his desire to go to the bathroom and inject into his vein the Dilaudid he had in the bottom of his bag, without the courage to throw it away.

The Boy Genius' mind was distracted for a while, curious about the person the experienced Rossi spoke to. He, like the other BAU agents the other day, assumed it was a woman, a secret girlfriend, perhaps. But that didn’t fit, Spencer was irritated by not being able to solve the mystery (and even more irritated by being interested in the personal life of his coworker). The Italian-American called it bambina - was it a dear family member? - and why would he put a family member on the FBI? It was dangerous! On top of that, he spoke of the previous case to her as if it were nothing, as if she already knew.

Spence bit his lip, glancing at the man looking out the window, getting up slowly. Reid sat across from Dave, smiling weakly. "I overheard, I'm sorry," he murmured, making Rossi smile. Dave wasn't as angry as he thought he would be, the eldest believing that some minimal information shared for the trustworthy Spencer would be no big deal. “Curious?”, the young man nodded.

– For now, she is top secret. But I can tell you that if everything goes as planned, oh, boy, we're screwed.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds reader #criminal minds #bau x reader #bau #BABY.#jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #david rossi

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years ago

Text

Switching Sides: Part 15 (HLITF)

if anyone possibly wants to get on a tag list I’d be happy to make one

👉@theshove 👈

👉@kamyru 👈

If you wanna catch up, Part 14 is right here! Happy reading :)

And I just want to thank everyone that’s been consistently reading this fic, I know it’s a slow burn but I think it’ll be worth it :D

Premise: Growing up in a life of crime in a Japanese mafia, Atsuko Motomori has seen enough injustice to last her a lifetime. To try and give back to the universe her family has taken so much from, she dreams of being a detective from a young age. Her twin, sharing her disgust for her father and many uncles, just wants an ordinary life away from the crime, paing and suffering. Instead, she wants to be in the spotlight with the soft notes she makes with her cello. In their escape of 2015, on their coming of age birthday, they must split ways, never to be together ever again. If one was found, they didn’t want the other dragged down with them. Atsuko, having changed her name and appearance as best she can without a scalpel, sets off to start her life of car chases and arrests.

Four years in a seemingly dead-end police station in the middle of nowhere, being passed over time after time for promotion, Atsuko finally gets a shot at her dream, having been sent to an academy for the best candidates in the country by her boss who had always kept an eye out for her. After discovering her boss may have made her bite off more than she could chew, Atsuko must become the slave of a dominating instructor!? Who so just happens to be the captain of the most famous police unit in Japan? Not to mention a total knockout! Will Atsuko finally achieve her dream? Or will her new instructor put her through the wringer?

Warnings: Language, Reference to sexual activity, Forceful nature, Abuse, Kidnapping, Torture.

~~~~~~

Early the next morning, I dressed in my loungewear to go to Juna's apartment. She had an outfit of her's waiting for me; I didn't own anything pink like the dress code she wanted. Grabbing a quick bite from the canteen and a coffee, as I have now remembered the difference between tea, I get the train to her apartment.

"Katsumi! You're here!" Juna bounced towards me, or as best she could under the weight of her almost grown baby, and stole the cake box I was balancing in one hand, holding my bag to my side with the other.

"Sorry I'm late, the metro was hectic." I sighed, kicking off my shoes as she shuffled back to the kitchen counter. There, I saw Kanto hurriedly putting up bunting. When he saw me, he directed his gaze to the space under the stairs where a set of drawers sat. Curiously, I stepped towards it, opening the top draw while Juna was distracted and found the ring I wanted. Pulling it out, I slipped it into a pocket in my bag.

"Your dress is in the bathroom if you wanna change!" Juna called over her shoulder as she pulled a box of strawberries out of the fridge, planning to chop them up.

"Sure thing!" I called back, knowing my way around the apartment since I lived here for months.

The dress in question was somewhat short and pastel pink. There was an upside-down triangle cut out of the back, the top half was tight and anything below the top of my hips was flowing. It was surprisingly comfortable, even if I felt like walking cotton candy.

"Told ya you'd like it!" Juna squealed in joy when she saw me emerge with a light blush on my face.

"It's not horrific." I pouted and went to help decorate the small balcony outside to escape her complimentary pestering.

~~~~~~

Once the arrival time for the party came around, more and more people started showing up. I didn't even think to ask my sister how many people were coming, but I sure as hell didn't think it would be this many people. There were so many, I was getting a little warm and the number of times I had to dart out of the way, getting my earring caught in my hair in the mad rush, I decided to put it up. I was bestowed with the job of answering the door so, when it rang again, I jumped up with a sigh. Because I was so used to seeing faces I didn't know, having everyone comment on how alike my twin and I looked, I was shocked when all the instructors showed up on the other side.

"In-Instructors, you made it?" I blushed when I saw them all in their casual clothes, instantly anxious when I remembered the outfit I was wearing. They all obeyed Juna's wish of them wearing pink or blue, all of varying degrees of severity, except for one. Can you guess who it was?

"Com... Come in. You can leave your shoes here." When I realised I had been staring, I jumped out the way to let them in. ‘God, Katsumi. Keep your cool!’ I internally screamed as I watched them filter in. Then, I directed them to the food when Juna finally approached us.

"Detectives, I'm so glad you could make it! I hope you enjoy yourselves. There's beer in the fridge, so have at it. There's plenty to go around!" Seemingly much more used to the instructors than I am, or she's just more sociable, Juna had a bright smile on her face. "Detective Kaga, you're not wearing blue." She frowned at the one person in the room not giving in her wishes.

"Juna, please." I begged her not to embarrass me as Kaga 'tsk'ed to himself. Then, he extended his hand to her, which held a paper bag. She took it and looked in to find a gift.

"Kaga, this is so cute! Look at it, Katsu." She squealed at the small bear with beady black eyes. It was kinda adorable and I blushed at the fact my sternly faced mentor had gifted it. The tag still attached to it said it was a nanny cam. My embarrassed and confused gaze fell to him and he sneered.

"My niece liked it."

‘Is he... pouting?’ It was almost too strange to tell with the faint blush on his face. ‘Is he already drunk? Wait! He has a niece?’ My blush deepened as I imagine how Kaga might act with a child to know her so much to know her favourite toy.

“Did none of your friends come?” Soma interjected my thoughts from beside me, seeing as Juna had gone to Kanto in the kitchen. I almost jumped out of my skin, but only because I was scared he could read my mind.

“Oh, no. No they… They were busy.” I quickly made up a pathetic lie, not wanting to throw Naruko under the for being afraid of the instructors. “Anyway, can I get you guys any drinks? Like Juna said, we’ve got beer, soda, water?” I listed off a few options so I could just escape this cluster of men, and even more people started to swarm us at their appearance.

“How does Juna know such good looking, young men?” A very forward older woman instantly clutched Instructor Goto’s arm, either drunk or that was just her rich nature. I instantly started panicking again.

“U-Um, Miss, they’re my bosses. Please… Please let go of him.” I was frantic as the instructor looked increasingly uncomfortable because of her flirtations. Almost everyone here was Juna’s work friends or spouses of, so they were all high standing members of society, not anyone I ever expected to mingle with.

When the woman just wouldn’t let go of him, I decided it was time to amp it up a gear. “Actually, I think your husband was talking to the composer’s daughter by the bathroom.” I gestured to an older man and a girl around my age talking up a storm on the other side of the spacious room, and the woman almost simultaneously stormed over.

After profusely apologising to Goto for what he already had to go through after just arriving, with the instructors still around us, Shinonone expressed how shocked he was that I could diffuse the situation somewhat quickly.

“I used to work in a club downtown. It was part of my job to get a feel for relationships in the room. O-Of course, you saw me working.” I was almost sweating with how nervous I was, remembering how rude I was to the instructor when he didn’t even know it was me at the time. Ayumu smirked at the memory of the interaction, and probably what I was wearing then too.

Luckily, Juna called me away to help her with something before I could be teased further.

~~~~~~

Later on in the party, I felt the need to step outside and take a breather, so I headed to the balcony and was surprised to find no one there. It was spring, the weather; surprisingly warm, and the flowers Kanto had been growing for Juna were in full bloom.

With my elbows resting on the railing, I suddenly realised what Kaga being here means. "I passed." I gasped, my heart filling with pride and doing a little dance to try and expel my joy. A rush of relief flooded over me and I don't think I've been happier than that moment. Not just relieved, but happy.

"It's been a while since I've seen that dance." A man's voice spoke up behind me and I turned in curiosity. For a moment, I truly believed it was one of my captors, but my vision quickly corrected it to Noburu. My heart raced as I saw him standing in the doorway, eyes wide. I hadn't seen him in a month. I was never told of him visiting. I was a little angry, he hadn't even texted me. But, above all else, I was scared. He sent alarm bells ringing in my head as if he really was the captor that fed me. That stood by and watched as I deteriorated into a heap of weeping bruises.

"No...Noburu. What are you doing here?" I panicked, stepping back and finding the railing block me from going over the edge. In an instant he was in front of me, holding my face as tears grew in my eyes.

"I missed you so much. I went to visit but you freaked out. I was so worried." His face was so close all I could see was him as he held my cheeks, his fingers extending into my hair, which I had let down again. I struggled, the image of that man seared in my brain.

When he saw me trying to get away, he crashed his lips on mine, taking my breath and any words I wanted to say to reject him. I tried to tug on the hands that kept me in place, but he wouldn't let go. His grip was vice-like. When he parted his lips to breath, I was able to whimper out "stop".

After I said that, he went to kiss me again, but he was pulled off me by someone yanking on his collar. There, holding the bewildered Noburu, was Kaga, rage painting his face. Embarrassed and afraid, I covered my mouth to hide my tears and sobs, darting by them, careful not to fall in my short heels as my legs shook.

~~~~~~

Bored out of my mind with all the aristocratic assholes Katsumi's sister was friends with, I decided to find the servant I found so fun to tease. My gaze flew around the room to find women surrounding most of the men from the PSD, except Goto who looked as bored as I was. Then, my gaze found the glass balcony doors and the woman I'm looking for. She was talking to a man, someone who looked dishevelled and not belonging to this group of people. Then, I noticed the tremble in her lip and her wide, astonished eyes watering out of... fear? I decided to head over and check if everything was alright.

When I opened the door, the man pounced on Katsumi, holding her face as he kissed her. A feeling in my stomach lit up my jealousy and anger as I watched them, but Katsumi seemed to be responding. I couldn't really tell when his hands were covering most of her face and his body was covering the rest of her.

As I turned to leave, I heard a low, high-pitched sound.

"Stop."

I spun around in a second, storming forward and gripping the back of the man's collar before yanking him off, possibly choking him in the process. I glared at him before checking to see if Katsumi was okay. Tears were falling down her face and the lipgloss she had on was smudged. Her hair was a mess and her knees were cowering a little. When she noticed what happened, her hand flew to her face and she ran back inside.

"Dude, what the hell?" The man who assaulted her frowned and my enraged glare returned to him. That was when I noticed it was the guy Katsumi used to work with at that club. I remembered watching her bend over the bar to talk to him, noticing how high her dress rode up her thighs, just shy of flashing everyone there. I growedl, remembering how much trust she must have had to talk to him the way Ayumu said she did.

"Get out or I concave your face." I threatened, dropping his collar. He was angry at first but when he saw how likely it was for me to do it, he ran to the front door.

~~~~~~

Stepping out of the bathroom, having cleaned myself up and calmed myself down enough to stop crying, I got to work; cleaning up the bottles and cans surrounding the room- mainly to distract myself. The party was still in full swing and I didn't want to ruin my sister's special moment. I could suck it up for now. All I wanted was for Noburu to be gone.

"Hey, idiot." A quiet voice erupted from behind me as I grabbed a few glass bottles from the counter in the kitchen, which was pretty vacant. I quickly recognised it at Kaga.

"I don't want to talk about it," I grumbled, not caring who he was in that moment.

"I kicked him out." He announced.

‘At least that's a relief.’ I sighed, feeling my tears return as I remembered how he had touched me. I trusted him. If he knew I had a breakdown the last time I had seen him, why would he still do that?

"Okay. I still don't want to talk about it." I complained, moving back and forth from the bin and the sink with trash and dishes to clean up later.

"Katsumi," Kaga said, but I ignored him, no matter how much him saying my name made my heart flutter. "Hey, moron." He grabbed my wrist as I dropped a few wooden skewers into the trash and spun me to see him.

"I'm not going to talk about it because I’ll cry. I'm not going to cry at my sister's baby shower." I gritted my teeth, returning his stern glare to try and make myself feel tougher.

"Why are you crying then?" He smirked and I sneered, noticing the wet drop roll down my cheek. I rushed to catch it with my unclaimed hand.

"He looks like one of them. Or he reminds me, anyway." I pouted, looking away from my instructor as he continued to hold my wrist. I'm sure he could feel my pulse race as my fear returned, mixed with the excitement of how close he was. I struggled to control my emotions when his grip tightened. I wasn’t intimidated. It was almost comforting, encouraging me to spill my guts right there in my sister's kitchen.

Suddenly, I was pulled towards him and enveloped in warmth and his scent. Slightly smokey, although whatever cologne he used did a good job of covering it up. I tried to look up from the chest I was being pushed against, but his hand settling on my head forced my gaze forward. My heart was pumping blood to my cheeks at an alarming rate and it was so loud I couldn't hear his. The pent up frustration I felt towards Noburu broke free from the weak dams I put up and my tears fell fast. My fist clenched on Kaga’s chest, angry that I had let someone I hardly knew so close. Before, I would have never gone out 'dates' with someone I enjoyed the company of- although I didn't really think of them in that way. I would have closed myself in my home, trying to keep to myself, not wanting to grow connections in case my father found me and I would have to leave everyone I had grown to love. It made it harder to justify how much safer I and those people would be if I left. I was mad at myself for letting go.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat in the doorway of the kitchen. I darted back, making sure to turn my back to wipe my eyes before turning back to cleaning, pretending like nothing had happened. "Juna wants to cut the cake." It was Ayumu who spoke up, walking over to the fridge, between me and Kaga. Too afraid to talk in case my voice wavered, I nodded and walked out the room, heading to the table everyone was surrounding.

~~~~~~

The party pretty much drew to a close after the gender reveal. It's a girl, but no one's surprised. Juna had been going on about it for weeks. Even before they could tell what the gender was.

"I'm gonna have a little Katsu of my own!" Juna cried with joy as she sat in front of the pile of gifts in front of her.

"At least give her a similar name. It'll be confusing if you give her the same as mine." I complained, picking up the wrapping paper she threw around the room. Thanks to my silent moment with Kaga, I was able to calm down enough to act normal for the rest of the party. All the instructors had gone home and it was just us and Kanto.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kanto asked as I walked into the kitchen with a trash bag in hand. He was cleaning the dishes while Juna enjoyed herself to her heart's content. I nodded, hoping I wasn't giving any signals that said otherwise.

"Well... I, um... I saw Noburu earlier." His voice was low, scared that if he told me he'd set me off again. I froze mid-way picking up the trash and recovered as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, he... He kissed me." My own voice was also low, afraid that if I said it aloud it would cement the end of our friendship. Kanto spun around to look at me and I tried to stop frowning. "It's fine... Kaga got him off me before I could spiral." I bit my lip, continuing my cleaning to distract myself.

"I'm sorry." Is all I hear Kanto mumble as I escape the room.

~~~~~~

That night, I returned to the dorm but found that I didn't want to sleep yet. My mind was racing, the ring my mother left for us in my fingertips as I sat on my couch. I looked for an engraving in the inside of the band. Nothing. The clear crystal, which I'm sure was a diamond; too small for me to tell if there was anything odd going on. There were several smaller ones dotted around it.

"Could it be to do with the make? Well, it's not like I can tell." I sighed. I hardly wore jewellery anyway. I was hopeless trying to find clues. "Maybe the detectives on the case discovered something?" I got up and made my way to one of the common rooms to use a computer.

It was the dead of night, so silent I thought I might have gone deaf. Luckily, the hallway lights were always on. Pulling out a chair, I brought the file up before I even sit down. The notes say that they found wording embedded in the jewels. Nano-sized. But they couldn't make any sense of it.

"Juno charges towards Juna, aiming for Katsu."

‘Well, that's not cryptic all.’ I sighed, slightly stunned to find both my and my sister's names. I decided my best bet would be to look up the meaning behind our names.

‘As a boy's name, Katsu means victory. Juna means woods and south. Could there be a battle in the woods or something?’ I frowned my brows, feeling wildly out of my depths and kind of silly for looking such things up on a school computer. Looking up the address of the murder, I looked at Google Maps because I knew I wouldn't be able to travel anywhere anytime soon. I dragged the picture south as far as I could, but nothing caught my eye.

The woman murdered, my mother's friend, it seemed, was found in a lake just outside Tokyo. Surrounded by woods.

"Oh?" I gasped when I s awthat there were cabins for sale in those same woods. They had been around for years, it seemed, and a community had been made there. With a small supermarket and diners, it looked like a 20 person village.

"Could she..?" I led off, wondering if my mother could have moved there to hide. "No, she'd be too close." But the fact irked me in a way that I wanted to check. There was a link to the real estate agents website. There, I found a phone number. Without thinking much, I called it, not considering how late after office hours it was.

"Thank you for calling Juna Estate Agents. We are always happy to answer your questions, but you've caught us after office hours. We open at 8 am every day, so please don't hesitate to ca-!" I hang up before the woman's voice on the voicemail can finish.

‘I shouldn't be doing this.’ I think. I know. I shouldn't be tempting myself with the idea. It would only get my hopes up and I'd only come crashing down when I exhausted all the leads I might find.

"She's dead." I reminded myself, pushing my father's questions to the back of my head, and turned off the computer.

~~~~~~~~~~

Monday came around and I was particularly exhausted. The last two nights had been the worst I had had in a while and I almost fell asleep cutting my own hair.

Heading to the cafeteria, notebook in hand, looking down at the floor, I was almost sleepwalking. Thankfully, I was pulled out of my dream-like state by a certain excitable morning person.

"Katsumi, you look so cute!" Naruko squealed upon seeing my now short hair. It was cut just shy of my shoulder, hugging the ear I pulled it behind. My hair was still white, too scared to dye it again in case I messed something up. Juna was always the one that did it for me and I didn't want to bother her.

"Thanks. It's easier to maintain this way." I laughed uneasily, hiding the true reason I prefered it short. My 'uncles' liked pulling on my hair. It’s hard to grab when it's like this. With a skip in her step, Naruko pulled me into the cafeteria.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I asked as we sat down, putting my heavy eyelids to the back of my mind.

"Chiba bought me a gift just because. It was so cute." She squealed, holding her cheeks as if her smile hurt. I cocked my head.

"Why’s he buying you gifts?" I asked before taking a spoonful of cereal.

"Oh shit, I didn't tell you?" She gasped and I shook my head, still chewing. "We're dating."

Instantly, I started choking at the gasp of air I took in when she told me. She asked me if I was okay and I put up a singular finger to tell her I'd just need a minute to recover.

"Si-Since when?" Taking the napkin she held out for me, I quickly wiped the milk covering the sides of my lips. I tried to ignore the fascinated stares of the male population around us.

"Hmm, a couple of months, I think? You'd have to ask him, he's the one that keeps track of it all." She waved of her unbothered-ness and continued eating as if I hadn't almost just died. "That reminds me, how was the party?"

Blushing, I tried to push the memory of Kaga holding me to the side as I reported how utterly bored I was for the rest of the event. "Her friends are all musicians, so they were mainly talking about their next concerts. Someone asked Juna if she was returning to the orchestra and she started balling." I forced a chuckle, really feeling sorry for my sister who couldn't accomplish the dream she wanted. She would have to settle to play for us and her daughter when she's old enough to play herself. I was sure Juna would push the joys of playing an instrument on her, or any future children she intended on having.

"What about the instructors?" Her wiggling eyebrows were enough to tell me she thought something kinky happened. I blushed but said I didn't notice because I was so busy. "You sure?" She dragged out her question, sliding into the seat next to mine, peering into my face. I stuffed my mouth with the rest of my cereal and jumped up, pointing to the door like I was in a rush to get to class. "You can't hide from me, Katsumi! I'm trained for this!"

~~~~~~

At the end of the day, I was sitting in the Instructor's Staff Room as usual, but couldn’t concentrate on my work. In the silence, my mind kept trailing to that clue my mother supposedly left for me. ‘Should I go looking for her? What if I end up leading someone to her? Could she be alive?’

As I thought, I didn't notice Kaga talking. Suddenly, I feel a blow on the back of my head and I jumped. "What're you spacing out for?" He glared down at me and I blushed an apology. When I tried to go back to work, he grabbed the arm of my spinning chair and directed it towards him, pinning me down by grabbing the other side.

"Are you still hung up on that kiss?" He whispered, his face incredibly close, gaze so strong I felt like I couldn't look away. "I can give you one if it helps you forget." The smirk on his face told me he was teasing, but I couldn't help my imagination run wild.

‘He's your instructor, Katsumi” That's not appropriate.’ I told myself off and shook my head 'no'.

"What're you spacing out for then?" He kept interrogating me, making no move to back down.

"I... I didn't get much sleep last night." I muttered, scared if I talked too loud I would stutter over every word.

"You have your pills. Take them." He demanded and I looked away, embarrassed I needed help to even sleep. I felt pathetic. When I didn't respond, Kaga stood up straight and returned to his office. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and returned to work, completely forgetting about any possibility of finding my mother.

~~~~~~

Working away at my desk, trying to distract myself from any thought about the woman sitting just outside my office, Ayumu stormed in with a stern look on his face.

"Someone keeps accessing a case file on the database." He dropped the papers on my desk after making sure the door was closed behind him. I looked down and found a solved case from over a decade ago. "I looked at the security cameras pointing at the computer used and guess who I found." He slapped another sheet down with a dishevelled and tired-looking Katsumi pictured on it. My brows furrowed at this suspicious behaviour.

"I'll deal with it." Wanting to be the first one to hear her explanation, I slid the files into my desk. Ayumu's brows flickered together before he realised what I said. I glared up at him, daring him to argue, but instead, he excused himself, walking right back out the door as fast as he came in.

~~~~~~

"I can't believe we were caught making out on security cameras!" Naruko, almost giddily, cries out after telling me an instructor had confronted both her and Chiba about inappropriate behaviour in the common rooms. Apparently, they were getting hot 'n' heavy before escaping to her room and they got caught. Although, that's not the part of the story I was fretting over.

‘I would have been caught sneaking on the computers in the middle of the night. Are there rules against that?’ I have to stop myself from pulling at my hair as I freaked out. Kaga or Ayumu would have gladly said something if I was doing anything wrong. ‘Should I come clean before they need to? No, that's a horrible idea. I'd be admitting my own guilt.’ I shook my head at my internal conversation, Naruko too self-absorbed to realise. She was walking to me the Instructor's Staff Room before lunch because I was tasked with delivering some papers to Kaga. ‘Oh god, what if this is an excuse to get me here?’

~~~~~~~~

At lunch, Katsumi knocked on the door of my office. Her head peeked in first, her short bob only leaning slightly. I found that style on her so sexy. Her white hair against her fair skin. Her neck on display for every man to see. I had to stop myself from staring her into the ground as she approached my desk with light steps, scared for some reason. That's when I remembered the case file she was caught staring at.

"Instructor Akiyame asked me-."

"What were you doing looking at these?" I cut her off, pulling the papers out and dropping them in front of me as she put the stack she had down. She froze, staring at the first page like it had just threatened her life. I watched her gulp, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear, giving herself time to think. She couldn't look at the glare I had on my face and I couldn't say I wasn’t amused. She'd been caught and she knew it, thinking she could just magic her way out of here by not answering me? No way.

Standing up, I walked around the desk to meet her gaze. She stumbled back, but I could tell she wasn’t terrified. Not like that guy at the party. Her eyes were wide, but not with fright. It was almost curiosity that pulled her in. She gulped again as I cornered her into the desk.

Just as I was about to ask again, she announced her reasonings. "My... My mother was a witness in that case." She bit her lip, turning away and her hair fell, blocking my view of that innocent guilty expression. I was almost annoyed that I got to miss it. I knew she had more to say, the absence in the movement of her chest told me she's holding her breath, waiting for me to push her further.

"She left me a ring before she ran away. It was a piece of evidence." She continued to report as I dropped a hand either side of her on my desk. She leaned so far back she might as well have been sitting on the surface. I looked down and her thigh in the tight trousers of the academy uniform widened as she pressured backwards.

"I thought she was dead... But my... My father kept asking me where she was... So I got curious." Her voice was trembling now, so I knew she was remembering her time in that underground torture chamber. My eyes narrowed, heart-stopping when I heard her frail noises. It angered me that she had to go through that. For her whole life. And it angered me that I didn't try looking for her when she didn't show up in the hotel. I had an inkling that something was up. A body can't be incinerated like that, no matter how much of the building went up in flames. I should have followed my instincts, but I let Ishigami's facts get the better of me. Our Chief even had to talk me down. I was so angry at her for running in. It was such a stupid move. Even still, I remembered her saving me. Even if some people told me it could have been a hallucination caused by the lack of oxygen I was getting because of all the smoke I had inhaled. I never let Ishigami change my actions. So, why did I then?

It was even harder when we found the woman at the club who looked just like her. The only thing that was different was her hair colour and the way she acted when we were far from her. She was comfortable, completely in her element as she pushed that guy into the bar. She almost seemed bored by the constant string of criminal activities in that club. I almost believed it wasn't her when she stood on the foothold of the stool and bent over the bar to get close and personal with the bartender, her dress just covering her most discreet place.

Yet, I saw the fluster on her cheeks when she turned to confront the suspicious man in the club she was meant to protect. I’ll be honest, I didn't think she had it in her to entice a man like that. On purpose. Not like the way she's intrigued me. Her unconscious movements and reactions to the way I treated her was a force that I hadn't enjoyed before. I always found myself wondering how far I could push her before she got mad and stormed away, not afraid to take the work I had given her before I even finished my demands.

I backed up when I heard her sniff. Her arm darted in front of her eyes so I couldn't see and I started to feel guilty that I was the cause of it.

"I keep telling myself that she's dead, but I can't help thinking that she's out there. I even called this estate agent, using the clue in that ring, but it was too late at night and I backed out." She was pouring her heart out to me as she cried, still hiding her true pain from me. I sighed, wrapping my arms around her because it seemed like it helped her. She grabbed the sleeve of my arm. Not to push away, but to help support herself.

‘Moron.’ I wasn’t calling her one, she was perfectly allowed to be reacting like this. She was a broken girl who went through a traumatic event. I was blaming myself for feeling the feelings that I was. I noticed the way she bit the tip of her thumb when she was stressed, not because of an interrogation tactic, but because her frowning brows looked so cute. I noticed the way she lifted her glasses onto her head the second she could because she got so annoyed by them. I noticed the way she could just brush Ayumu's teasing off and how she had grown so used to all the men in the academy talking to her. She had calmed down since the beginning of the year, when she couldn't even sit down on a bed next to me.

Now that I think about it, maybe that was for a different reason as well? She was always so cautious, so willing to prove herself to everyone else, I wondered how she would react if she knew how I felt? How I thought about her at night when I finally got a moment of silence away from Four Eyes or sudden changes to my schedule.

My gaze fell to the back of her neck, exposed under the hair that floated over her shoulders and I was angry with myself that that was how I reacted in the moment. It wasn’t appropriate and not okay. And, even though I say that, I couldn't help but be happy that I was the one that could hold her. I was the one that could back her up into a wall and tease her. She wouldn't tell me off, not like she did to Ayumu when he got too personal. I was the one that knew how her outdated sense in music calmed her down. I might not have known how much she was struggling, but I knew how to help her.

~~~~~~~~~

As I stood in Kaga's arms again, I couldn't help but think how safe I felt with him. His arms were so strong and his chest was hard but soft. The heat radiating off him would otherwise be unbearable but the way his breath blew on the back of my neck as I cried into him, it was tolerable. The cigarette smell mixed in with cologne didn't bite at my nose the same way my father did, he only ever smelt like the acidic stench cigars gave him. The glares he gave me were more encouraging than anything, daring me to do better. The way he held me on missions may be temporary and full of the facade we were trying to portray, but my heart raced every time. Sure, whenever a guy got into my personal space I'm embarrassed, unused to a towering figure that could be kind and protective, but with Kaga, it was different. I didn't know how, but it just was.

However, embarrassment quickly consumed me. I'm reminded of how unprofessional this was. I was meant to be a student learning to be a detective. Not a little girl who cried every time she got in her head.

Taking a deep breath, I drew back and Kaga eased his grasp but didn't fully let me go. I looked up at him with an uneasy gaze and there was a look in his eyes that I didn't recognise. It was almost scary. He was the devil Instructor, so who's surprised? But this... This was different. It was the look he had when he pulled Noburu off me and I wanted to run away from it, too ashamed for him to see me act so deplorable.

Inching back further, he seemed to come to his senses and let me go entirely. The cool rush of loneliness almost made me miss it. Almost.

I was about to apologise for how I had been acting when the school bell rang, signally the end of our lunch break.

"Moron, don't just stand there, get moving." Kaga’s expression had turned into a scowl again and he hit the side of my head with the papers I had previously set down. The light hud reminded me of how he hadn't done that since I returned. Had he been holding off until he knew I was completely healed? And he insulted me, something he had also been easing back into. I likeed the push of encouragement and my tears dried quicker than I would have liked. It was so childish to calm down so quickly. Almost like I was having a tantrum and someone just gave me a piece of candy. With the knowledge of that, I blushed and bowed before running out of the office, having dried my face on my sleeve.

#voltage fanfic #voltage games #her love in the force #hlitf ayumu #hlitf goto #hlitf ishigami #hlitf kaga #hlitf soma #hlitf shinonome #hlitf fanfic #hlitf #crime #oc #ooc #mafia #mob #police #detectives

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kaisooficrec · 5 years ago

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Well I feel down lately and all I need is some angsty fics. But nothing super heavy( I can't handle that sh*t). Like one of them mocks the other (bullying, tbh) and later he feels guilty, (you know they hurt the other but in deep, he likes him). I know I'm not good at explaining, I hope you guys know what I mean :/

Hey there! I’m profusely sorry we couldn’t get this ask out on time but I really hope you’re doing better. But angst is always (ironically) positive, so enjoy!

Bullying/Mocking:

They Were Not Friends - Age swap, oneshot. Jongin refused the friendship of his new neighbour back when they were kids, and even through middle school. When he gives them a chance, he realizes Kyungsoo is more than an owl-eyed dongsaeng. Light angst and some nice mild fluff to top it all.

Black Magic - A classic by now. Mama Powers!AU, dragons!AU, OT-12 and multiple pairings. The criminal turned student who can “hear” stones fascinates teleporter Kai and triggers instinctive tension between them. Kyungsoo is bullied for basically the entirety of the fic, but magic and smut and tons of plot, so an important read.

What We Find - Soulmates!AU by Indigomini (a.k.a a certified masterpiece). Jongin waited his whole life to find his soulmate but once he does, his entire beliefs are shaken. Kyungsoo is just a heartbroken jerk and Jongin is the most precious human being. Read for guaranteed heart squeezes, laughs and frEAKY times.

Boundless - Abusive relationship, dubcon. While massaging Jongin’s scared body, Kyungsoo doesn’t know if he passionately hates or horribly loves the manipulative bully terrified by storms. Pretty nice and dark.

Omega Nini - Jongin is an omega who has been bullied for long before turning into a bully himself, which is a major turnoff to rich bulky alpha!Kyungsoo. Not angsty but mentions of violence.

loving can hurt, loving can heal - Or how a bee causes Kyungsoo and Jongin to break up. Could’ve been angstier but the hurt is there.

Unlikely Friends - Harry Potter!AU, (kind of) enemies to lovers. Hufflepuff!Jongin and Gryffindor!Kyungsoo hate each other but only because their pets don’t accept to be separated. The angst is very minimal but they have some bad times. (side XiuHan and SuChen)

Hurts the other but regrets later:

Everlasting Light - Well, WELL. That was some intense beautiful writing there. I don’t wanna spoil, but both are hurt and both go extreme lengths to forget each other. An awesome fic, more on the heavy side but it won’t leave you sad. I wish I knew it earlier.

SUNFLOWER - Kaileidohscope! They break up in college because of Kyungsoo’s addictions and meet years later in Chanyeol’s wedding. Jongin is basically perfect in this fic and the feelings are portrayed really realistically and beautifully. Great angst.

Anything You Can Do - Yes, another one by Indigomini, I’m barely sorry. A fiery love-hate relationship that lasts for too long before they allow themselves second chances. Not too angsty but not light neither, and hehe, smut.

Eunoia - That’s a short one, more poetic than angsty. But I actually loved the vibe, and Kyungsoo gets hurt in the process oops.

forest fires - Awesome mild angst. Kyungsoo and Jongin are students in Cambridge in the 20s but from different social casts. It’s beautifully written, Jongin is the best poet irl anyway and Kyungsoo’s a stuttering artist.

November Sky - Blind!Kyungsoo is the only one who was prepared enough to survive the apocalypse, alone, or at least until he opens his door and his house to a starved Southerner. Angsty towards the end, but mostly fluffy in a vague cozy way.

Been Through - Non AU, around 2016. Kyungsoo flies to Japan with friends to spend his and Jongin’s birthdays away and sets off Jongin’s mixed feelings. It’s a pretty intense smutty oneshot, and the ending is barely happy but INDIGOMINI AGAIN SO YOU BET IT’S GOOD.

I know now (we were meant to be) - Kyungsoo is a wealthy man who despises his privileged life. It gets even worse when his new bodyguard appears to be his ex from his military days. I love lowkey tsundere/rebellious Kyungsoo and strong Jongin.

Take Off - Jongin is an exceptional ballet dancer and Kyungsoo can’t live with the fact that he’s holding him back from his dreams. Typical angst, so on the intense side of mild. Actually really good.

Smile - Kyungsoo is a war survivor and Jongin loves everything about him. I know this is not really what you asked for, but *this* is the angst I read when I’m feeling down. Just CJ’s bonus.

Storm in a Teacup - Vampire AU. Kyungsoo is a human, and he really IS fine without a vampire bodyguard abut Jongin just wants to get his job done. It takes both of them near death experiences for Soo to accept him and hurts him pretty badly in the process. Still (bitter?)sweet and well written.

Says something that makes the other cry (pertains to some fics above, too):

Garnet Hearts - everybody should have read it at this point but!!! royalty au and arranged marriage, uhm how many times we cried too when kyungsoo said something hurtful to poor jongin?? yea :oovv//

Through the Midnight Streets - Jongin’s bestfriend and long time crush dates a girl and doesn’t reciprocate his feelings when he finally expresses them. Years later, in Paris where Jongin is a ballet dancer, they meet again and Kyungsoo inadvertently hurts him again. This is a masterpiece. The angst is perfect but the setting is even more mesmerizing.

The last of The Wilds - supernatural / nymph / forest spirit and human. jongin can see kyungsoo, the forest spirit who was cursed by a witch and lost his lover and jongin is a carbon copy of him. jongin falls in love with kyungsoo but ksoo is so stubborn he hurts jongin many times jefhfhsdf

Well I really love angst and I actually have way more that I read when I’m feeling blue but I tried my best to stick to your request. Please don’t hesitate to check older asks for bully!Jongin, bully!Kyungsoo or angst in general here, here and here. Stay safe and happy!

- Admin Cookie

#kaisoo #kadi #dika #fic request #admin cookie #exo #r:happy end angst #r:hurting the other #r:bullying #r:bully soo #r:bully kai

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jeremiah-valeska · 4 years ago

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Birthday Surprise || Discord

Summary: Jeremiah kidnaps Dick and forces him to relive his childhood trauma. Trigger warnings: Death, Trauma, Abuse, Dark Themes, Violence Written With: @flyingboywonder

Jeremiah

It was perfect. Just how he pictured it to look. How he remembered it to look. "When you're awake, you're going to love this!" Glancing up to the stands where he had Dick placed in the audience. (The Audience consisting solely of the members of his Church. All in everyday attire.) He said busting into uncontrollable giggles. He placed his hand on his chest. His gloved hand over his red ringleader's coat. An exact replica of the one Haly used to sport years ago. "Dick! Common, Dick, wake up!" He called from where he stood. "We're getting off schedule." He mumbled before walking into the audience and scooting past a few of his people so that he could sit in the empty spot next to his best friend. Reaching over, he jostled him a bit. Trying to wake him. Leaning close and whispering in his ear. "It's the most important day of your life and the drugs should be wearing off... you should probably wake up. And... pay attention to me..." His last few words were very breathy and he reached a hand up to brush the hair from Dick's face.

Dick

He could feel warm breath against his ear, could make out the words Jeremiah was saying. He vaguely remembered them hanging out together, having a couple of drinks, watching TV. And then... It was a blur. His eyes slowly opened, trying to adjust and focus on what was around him. "J-Jeremiah?" His voice was croaky, and his head felt a little dizzy. "What's going on?" he asked, head turning to look at the other man. There was a glint of excitement in his eyes, then Dick looked towards the stage. Haley's? That wasn't possible. The circus had been gone for years. Was this a dream? He'd dreamt of his childhood hundreds of times -- dreamt of the night he'd lost his parents. Watching them fall over and over again, unable to catch them, or tell them what was going to happen. "Am I dreaming?"

Jeremiah

"Ah! There you are." He said with a smile, clearly proud of himself. "For a moment I was scared I may have used a little too much. Do you feel alright?" He asked, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature before pulling back and swiping the air. "You're fine." A large and manic grin stretching across his white face. Twitching a bit like it might have been too big of a smile for himself to even handle. He checked the watch on his hand quickly before letting out a gentle huff. "We have time... I suppose. You see, Dickie. Ever since that day we got to talkin' about your parents I realized something. See I wasn't there. That's why you don't feel about me the way I feel about you. I couldn't be there for you... I couldn't hold your hand or tell you that it'll all be alright on the most important day of your life." He reached forwards and grabbed Dick's hand between his own. Silvery eyes widening. "But I can be now. I just... I want to be connected to you."

Dick

Used a little too much? Jeremiah had drugged him. Something that was very much not okay with Dick. "What do you mean, do I feel alright? I just found out someone I considered a friend slipped me something. What do you think?" Listening to the other speak, it was obvious that there was something very wrong with him. He wasn't the same person that he'd once known at the circus. "Most important day of my life? It was the worst day of my life. Why would you want to connect to me through that?" He tried to pull his hand away from Jeremiah, but he was still a bit weak from whatever he'd drugged him with. "There's other ways to connect to me than kidnapping me and bringing me to a place that haunts me."

Jeremiah

He pouted when Dick started to talk back to him. "Best Friend. Don't be inconsiderate, Dick. How else was it meant to be a surprise if I didn't knock you out... besides... it shouldn't give you any long lasting effects. That I know of." He said, unable to prevent a sick chuckle from escaping. "Why?" He asked taking a hand back and placing it on his chin in thought. "Well, Dick. You see... I thought of it... Over and over and I realized that Anthony Zucco held a more important place in your heart than me." He said, pressing his hand against Dick's chest and looking into his eyes as though he was pleading with him. Trying to get him to understand. "As well as your super powered friends. Zatanna... Wally... They're all so much more important to you. I want to be important to you! Me!" He raised his voice, gripping the fabric of Dick's shirt. His lip quivering. "If you can't love me, then we can be bonded in other ways. I'll be important to you once the night is over... You'll see... I won't be so insignificant to you anymore."

Dick

Best friend? Was that what this was all about? Now Dick was starting to understand how Bruce felt when it came to Joker. "You could've just blindfolded me and said you had a surprise. There are other ways to do things. Drugging people without their consent should never be an option, Jeremiah." The mention of Zucco made his blood boil in his veins. How dare Jeremiah bring him up. "Don't say his name," he hissed, trying to get up from his seat. He knew that he was feeling a little groggy, but he couldn't move. Looking down, he noticed that he'd been bound to the chair. "You could've been important to me! I cared about you!" he yelled, fidgeting in his seat, trying to get free. "You want me to love you? You drugged me and tied me to a chair, built a whole replica of Haley's! You want me to relive the worst night of my life!" Panic was rising in his chest, his heart pounding and his breaths becoming ragged. "Let me go, Jeremiah! I want to go home!"

Jeremiah

"But then there's the complications that come with the blindfold. What if you peaked, then the surprise would have been-" He whistled and gestured like he was throwing something into a hoop. "Out the window." He said, pulling his hands back into another shrug. Dick's reaction to Zucco's name made Jeremiah shift back from him like he was scared he might bite him before his lips twisted again into a smile. He shook his head like he was shaking them of silly thoughts. "See, that's how you should react if someone's important to you!" He said. As if this proved any point. In his delusional mind, everything that he was doing and saying made perfect sense. "Don't pretend I ever could have been more then the childhood friend you've pitied all our lives." He said giving him a frown, "There would have always been someone above me if I didn't do something grand." He told him, raising his voice as though he was speaking to an audience. All at once, his cult turned to look at them as if they recognized his commanding tone. "Anyway, show must go on and all that." He said waving his hand around and getting up. "Sit tight, Dickie! I have to play understudy for the ringleader." He said, scooting his way out of the audience seat and sauntering down the stairs and to the stage.

Dick

"It's not because he's important to me! It's because he killed my parents!" He tried his hardest to understand what was going through Jeremiah's mind right now -- what would lead him to do a thing like this. Dick thought that he knew his old friend, but clearly he'd been hiding a dark secret from him. "I don't pity, Jeremiah. Or at least I didn't, until now. I thought you were a friend. The one last connection I had to the good part of my past, but you've ruined it. It's tainted now." He was right. There would always be someone above him. His daughter for one, and his girlfriend too. Wanting to be the centre of Dick's attention was a crazy desire. "The show doesn't have to go on! You could just let me go home to my kid, to my... To my Zee." He was practically pleading now, his eyes filling up with tears. Tears of both of anger and fear. "No!" he yelled, watching the crazed clown walking to the stage. "I don't wanna do this, Jeremiah! Please! If you care about me, you won't make me do this!" Dick fought against the restraints, but it was no use. Maybe if he closed his eyes... Yeah, that's what he'd do. He squeezed them shut tight, clenching and unclenching his fists as he tried to calm himself. "Do it for Mar'i. Get through this for Mar'i," he whispered to himself. "Do it for Zee. For the Titans... For your family." You can do this, Dick. Bruce's voice rang clear in his head, and he focused on it. "I can do this," he breathed. "I have to."

Jeremiah

His eyes darkened for a moment, "Since he killed your parents, he's important to you. Can't you see it's one in the same? Jerome killed my parents and voila! He'll always have a place in my heart." Though he wasn't sure if it was fair to use his twin as an example. It didn't matter. Dick and himself were the same. Both orphans who came from the same place and rose to where they were today. Successful. The only difference being: Jeremiah didn't have what Dick had. Important people in his life. All he had was Dick and he had to share him. How was that fair? "Your Zee?" He half turned on his walk down and his teeth grit together hard, the next words were spoken through them. "This is why I have to do this. You've always put her in front of our relationship." He turned back and stepped onto the stage, turning in a dramatic fashion on the stage and tipping his hat. Dick should be happy that this was all he was doing. Out of respect for him... he wasn't eliminating the competition. And, oh. How he thought of it before. How he'd do it... Instead of killing them all while the spell took place he was putting on a show for his ungrateful best friend. "Ladies and Gentleman! Boys and girls! Children of all ages! Welcome to the circus! Hear the music! Laugh at the clowns! And be thrilled by the daring feats of our Acrobats!" The audience irrupted into cheers and he looked up with a smile on his face. Finally catching Dick. Who's eyes were closed. "DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES! You'll miss out on the big surprise!" He made a gesture and one of his cult members moved next to Dick and pried his eyes open for him. "Let's give a warm welcome to THE FLYING GRAYSONS!"

Dick

He felt sick to his stomach. The way Jeremiah was talking was enough to make him want to throw up his breakfast. "It's not the same. Your brother is a psychopath, and I'm starting to think that you are, too. Maybe it's a twin thing," Dick hissed. He wasn't helping his case by upsetting his old friend, but he didn't care. They were truths that he needed to hear. If he realised just how alike he and Jerome were, perhaps it'd be enough to make him stop this insanity. "She's my girlfriend. I don't know what you expect from me. Normal friendships aren't like this, Valeska... Are you in love with me? Is that what this is about? We can talk through it if you are, you don't have to go this far." His words were falling on deaf ears. It was clear that Jeremiah had a plan and he was going to see it through, no matter how much Dick tried to put a stop to it. Hearing the other man starting to shout like he was the star of the show, he shook his head, desperately trying to ignore it. Suddenly, though, his eyes were being pried open, forcing him to look at the stage. "No, no, no. Please, let me go," he begged. He'd never sounded more broken. A man and a woman walked onto the stage, and his heart sank. "Momma?" She looked exactly like her, and the guy looked exactly like his father. It wasn't them. It couldn't be. "STOP!" He threw himself as far forward as he could, but the hands on his face pulled him back. Dick was starting to lose control, tears streaming down his face, his body writhing as much as the restraints would allow. "I'm going to kill you, Jeremiah!" he screamed. "You're gonna die, just like Zucco!"

Jeremiah

He tried to continue the show and ignore the screaming of his best friend as he sat in the audience but when Dick asked if he was in love with him, he felt himself freeze and tense up. Trying to swallow the lump in his throat that was choking him. "You kn- you know..." He stammered, losing his cool for a moment. He wasn't in love with Dick. No. They were just best friends. At least he thought they were, right now Dick was acting like they weren't and he had to push through it, knowing that the connection they would have after this would be stronger then what they currently had. Dick would think of him all the time because he'd think of this night. He'd always be a thought, lingering in his mind. He pushed though the brief moment and wiped a bead of sweat from his face. "And introducing! The youngest Acrobat we have! Dick Grrrrayson!" He announced getting back into character. Gesturing to the young boy who just walked on stage, he couldn't have been more then 9 years old. Meanwhile, the real Dick Grayson was screaming from the audience that he was going to kill him. "I like the passion, bestie! But how about we cheer for this little guy here instead of making promises you can't keep! Poor thing's gonna need it!" He said as the family behind him started getting to their places. He had them put under a spell from Zatanna's book. Forced to follow his every command.

Dick

Jeremiah's answer didn't satisfy him. But he knew better than to push it. Everyone around him had been telling him that Jeremiah had a crush on him for months, but he refused to listen, and now he was the subject of all his attention. Hearing himself being introduced, he focused on the little boy on stage. Curly black hair, bright blue eyes, and a wide smile. Was this innocent little kid going to die because of him? "Let the kid go! He hasn't done anything wrong. Let them all go!" His eyes were stinging, and he was so, so angry. But beyond the anger, there was terror and sheer panic. His chest was heaving, and he gritted his teeth. He wished that he could get free, that he could get onto the stage and warn these people. Dick wanted to save them because he couldn't save his parents. He didn't get to warn them on time about Zucco's plan, and because of him, they were dead. And now these people were going to die, too. "You need to get out of here! He's sending you to your deaths!" They didn't move, and Dick let out a scream of frustration. Knowing how this was going to go made his whole body shake, his hands unable to fiddle with the binds keeping him down. The more he tried to squeeze his eyes shut, the rougher the henchmen were with him. There was no way out of this. Nobody to help him. Hadn't anyone noticed he was gone yet? He sank back in his seat, exhausted from fighting, and from the drugs. "Just... Don't make me watch this. I... I can't."

Jeremiah

Jeremiah turned to watch the family go to their spots before Dick caught his attention again. He was still fighting this? Still screaming at him like he hadn't already made up his mind. He had been working on this for months. Transforming Amusement Mile into a replica of Haly's. Finding performers that met the builds and appearances of his parents. Casting the perfect kid to play Dick... and even rebuilding his Church so they would have an audience. He did all this work and Dick thought he was not going to go through with it? His eyes narrowed. No, that would be a waste of money and a waste of months of work. "They can't hear you, Dick!" He called up to him. "They're under a spell-" He sighed dramatically and shook his head before coming back into the audience. The Ringleader didn't need to be there for the rest of this anyway. He gestured for his cultie to get out of his spot before reclaiming it. Taking a seat besides Dick. Watching as he started to give up. "Shush," He said softly. "It'll be alright. You survived this the first place and you can do it again. You're amazing." He offered his comfort, placing a hand on Dick's leg. "We'll finish this together... and then once it's all done... every time you think of them... you'll think of me."

Dick

Under a spell? Where had he even found magic? Dick knew that Zatanna would never help him with something like this. Any sane person wouldn't. "Even if they can't hear me, I still had to try," he muttered to himself. His shoulders tensed when he saw Jeremiah leaving the stage, coming back towards their seats. "I only survived because of Jim and Bruce. Without them, I wouldn't be here." His stomach was churning. Bile was burning the back of his throat. "Connecting you to this isn't a good thing." His voice was void from emotion now, and he didn't even bother to move his leg when he felt a hand rest on his upper thigh. He didn't want to be touched, but Jeremiah wasn't listening to anything he was saying, so what was the point in fighting it? "My parents dying broke my heart. I tried to bury the pain for years. You're bringing it back to the surface. I won't be me after this." It was his last hope at getting Jeremiah to change his mind. "You love me as I am. Want to be the best friend of this version of me. You're about to ruin who I am, all because you want to be important to me. But you won't be, because you'll have killed this Dick Grayson."

Jeremiah

"Jim and Bruce were very kind to you. Jim said something to you right after. What was it...? There will be light?" He replied, looking up at the performance they were starting it now while the little boy stood and watched. Not in on the action. He wasn't trained like the performers and Jeremiah didn't want that ruining the bit so Little Dick was instructed to just watch and to scream if his "parents" were to fall. "I'm prepared to fill both roles for you, so don't worry about that. I'll make sure it's exactly as it should be. I'll be there for you..." He said. "That's all I want. To be there. I'm so uninvolved. So forgotten about that I have to insert myself more into the story... you understand." He said, like it made sense. He leaned back in the chair, listening to Dick talk. He frowned. Feeling a small sense like he might be doing the wrong thing here, he shook his head. Bringing his hands up to hair. "No, no, it's fine. It's fine." He said, "It's all going to go according to plan." He said to himself, a manic edge to his tone. He shook himself out, trying to get rid of the doubt. "I'll love you in anyway that you are." He corrected him after a long moment. "It's you who doesn't care about me. You won't die. They will," He gestured up to the performers. "But you won't."

Dick

How did Jeremiah know what Jim had said to him. Did he know every little detail of his life somehow? "How do you know that?" Dick asked, needing to know who was giving out such private information. "You can't just replace Bruce and Jim. You can't be a father figure to me." He was so confused, so utterly overwhelmed by everything that was going on around him. Jeremiah confirmed that the people on stage were going to die, and Dick thrashed around to get out of his binds once more. Luckily, all his fidgeting had paid off and they came loose. "Not if I can help it," he growled, pulling the ropes off. The first thing he did was make a fist, then punched his old friend in the jaw. "You're sick, Jeremiah. As soon as I'm done saving those people, I'm putting you somewhere secure. You're never going to hurt anyone again," he told him, jumping over the seats and running towards the stage. "Stop!" he yelled at the people. "I'm coming to help! Don't climb up there! Jeremiah, stop the spell!"

Jeremiah

He smiled pridefully when Dick asked how he knew that, "I did my research." He quipped. Deciding to keep his tactics to himself, after all, Dick didn't need to know everything. All he needed to know was how far he'd go for him. "I was my own father figure, why can't I be yours too? I could offer you advice or play catch with you in the yard." He said with a chuckle. "Listen, Dick. I'm only doing this because I love you. You're all I have... and I don't like sharing." He admitted looking towards the stage and eyeing the performers. They were good but they weren't the Graysons. They didn't have the grace that Dick's parents had. He remembered watching them with Dick, sorta like what they were doing now. Only, Dick loved him then. They were all they had and he hadn't been replaced yet. His heart yearned for that feeling again. "Mhm?" He said, a bit confused. When he turned his head to look at Dick, he was greeted with a fist to the jaw. His head shot back with the force of it and when he looked up, Dick was leaping over the seat. Swiftly, he took out his gun and aimed it at his friend. Finger lingering over the trigger, trembling... but he couldn't do it. Instead he tossed it aside and ran after Dick. Was he ever fast... "Dick, wait! I can't stop it! What do I look like, your girlfriend??" He shouted back at him, Dick was already climbing up the ladder to get to the trapeze artists. He followed suit, quickly enough that he was able to grab his ankle. "Come down, you're going to get yourself killed. There's no saving them!"

Dick

Had Jeremiah gotten into his files? He'd made sure to have them triple secured so that villains couldn't get any private details. Maybe he'd forced someone to talk. It wouldn't be hard for a guy like him. He was smart and had a lot of connections. Maybe it was Jerome. He was close to Zatanna, and he knew that she trusted him. Paranoia was starting to cloud his judgement. Dick needed to shake it off and think clearly, but that was hard to do when you were being forced to relive the worst moment of your life with someone you believed was a trusted friend. "Everybody has to share the people they love. If you don't, that makes you a toxic and controlling person. I won't be controlled. Not by you, not by anyone." As soon as Jeremiah's head shot backwards, Dick felt a little bit of regret. Resorting to violence with sick people wasn't something he was fond of. But there wasn't any other choice right now. It was punch him or sit idly by while people got hurt. "What do you mean you can't stop it?! You started it! You have to know how to undo it!" As he climbed the ladder to reach his fake parents, he felt Jeremiah's hand wrap around his ankle. "Let go!" he yelled, looking down at him. "I'd rather die a hero than sit and do nothing. I don't give up. You should know that about me." With a frown, he kicked Jeremiah hard in the face, scrambling up the ladder when he felt his grip loosen around his ankle.

Jeremiah

He didn't see it that way. That it would be controlling. He thought, if anything it would be the two of them against the world but perhaps Dick would understand some day. After all of this was over and done with, after he got his audience to leave so the two of them could be alone. Then he could comfort him like he would have wanted to the day this really did happen. Instead of having to stay home ant get beaten for something he really didn't remember if he even did. His past was foggy to him, but it didn't matter where he was. The point was that he wasn't there when Dick needed him and now he was. "My magic guy's a little busy!" He replied. Not elaborating. Dick wouldn't like what he did to the city. To his friends. Dick told him to let go and he clung tighter to him. "Oh I do. I know you! As you should know I wouldn't give up on you! I need you to tell me something; Can't you feel it, yet?!" He screamed up to him. "The connection between us? Can't you? Please, tell me you--" He was cut off when Dick kicked him hard in the face and he couldn't help but let out a yelp in pain. For a moment he was seeing stars and he had to let go of Dick and focus on hanging onto the ladder as it swayed a bit form the force of the hit. Blood ran down his face like a faucet from his nose as he came to. Dripping onto the ladder. He glanced back up and watched as Dick hustled upwards. Quickly pulling himself after him, they were nearing the top when his foot couldn't get a grip. Slipping on the blood from before. "Dick!" He shouted after him. But the rope that held the False Graysons began to tare too...

Dick

He didn't know what the other man meant by 'a little busy', but he had a feeling that it wasn't by any means anything good. Jeremiah asked him if he could feel it, and Dick didn't know how to respond, on account of not knowing what it was. "All I feel is anxiety and anger. I should be with my family and friends, celebrating my birthday, but you're putting me through this!" As he reached the top of the platform, he tried to reach out to grab the hand of the woman. But it was too late, she'd jumped. He looked up at the rope, wondering how long he had. Hearing his name being called, he turned to see Jeremiah holding onto the ladder by one hand. Dick had to make a choice, and his rage was affecting his judgement. He took one last look at his childhood friend before dashing forward, just in time to watch the performers fall to their deaths. "No!" he screamed, grabbing a rope hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't very long, but he didn't need it to be. He swung off the ledge, then let go, gliding through the air with the greatest of ease, putting his tumbling skills to good use before he reached the ground. Dick landed a little off balance, but that wasn't surprising with everything he'd been through that night. He avoided looking toward where Jeremiah would've fallen, focusing on the bodies of the man and woman instead. Clutching his stomach, he doubled over and vomited. It must've been the shock, and the fear. There was so much blood. After using a shaky hand to check their pulses, he let out an anguished cry. "I'm sorry," he choked out, getting up from the ground and ignoring the pain in his ankle. Suddenly, he remembered the little kid, and spotted him on the other side of the stage, staring blankly at him. "Kid... It's gonna be okay, don't look at them," he told him, making his way over. "I'm Dick Grayson, and I'm going to take you somewhere safe." Picking the little boy up, he held him in his arms, trying to shield him and making a break for the exit.

Jeremiah

He could feel his hand slipping as he dangled off the ladder and warm blood from his nose gushed into the opening of his lips. Staring up with blurry eyes at his friend who looked down at him coldly. Although he didn't have his glasses on and the lights were so... bright. Perhaps he was misreading his best friend's expression. Dick left his line of sight swiftly without extending a hand to help him and all he could think was: Oh. I suppose we're even. He wasn't there in Dick's time of need so Dick, in turn, wasn't there for him. But he really did believe for a moment there... Dick might choose me for once. Disappointment filled his chest and weighed him down. His fingers, that were curled around the step of the ladder wouldn't hold him anymore and in an instant he felt himself dropping like a stone all the way to the ground. Hearing the thud of the two bodies a split second before the thundering crack of his head against the flooring. His eyes still open and staring up towards the stage lights which reflected colourfully in his dull silver irises. Blood that had been in his mouth trickled down the sides of his face and dripped into the pool by his head. Creating a long red grin on his stark white face. He thought he heard Dick say something somewhere not too far from him. Promising that he'd take him somewhere safe before the world itself turned dark.

#c: dick #discord #chatzy

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