#hell i only found out like last year that at least his mother actually spoke karelian
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violasmirabiles · 2 months ago
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grandma gave me an icon and a 2004 newspaper article about the original
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metalomagnetic · 5 months ago
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I feel like I’m always harassing you with my asks (sorry!!), but bouncing off of my previous request for Black lore- what are the Blacks (that we know) like ✨in bed✨? What are they into?
I spent way too long thinking of this!
We'll start with Sirius the Grandpa Black. I have a feeling he was wild in bed, like he was wild in everything. Curiously, I spoke with a friend about this just the past week, and I said 'he made his wife very happy in bed, and exasperated outside of it'. He was a leg man- he loved long, shapely legs on a woman. In his time-period, no one could see a woman's legs, all hidden by long skirts, but he had a way of guessing beforehand lol.
Arcturus- funnily enough, in the new chapter I am writing, Sirius jokes that Arcturus probably only had sex twice in his life, because he cannot see his strict grandfather as a sexual being. And while he certainly had sex more than twice, I think he was pretty standard in bed, nothing crazy, just plain old missionary style. He was a virgin when he married and never cheated on his wife, even after she died, had no desire for anyone other than her.
Pollux and Irma (in my story she's also a Black, half, on her mother's side) have the same dynamic in bed they have in real life. Irma really likes dominating him, and in bed, he actually enjoys it.
Cygnus has a pregnancy kink 😂 That aside, poor man hadn't had much sex since his wife fell into a deep depression.
Alphard was into nerdy, quiet men with a hint of a wild side (he once had a brief crush on Tom Riddle, of course). He was a very generous partner, in bed and outside of it. His last partner, whom he'd been with on and off for like two decades, and actually lived with for the last five years of his life, almost made an appearance in Canis Major, but I had to let the scene go. Alphard left what remained of his wealth to Sirius, but he left his beautiful home to his partner, who was disowned by his family when he moved in with Alphard.
Orion, like the hypocrite he is, likes wilful, stubborn women that defy social convention. The surest way to attract his attention was to 'behave atrociously' (as he would call it) in public. He's twisted, and he enjoys pursing strong women, only to dominate them when he gets them. As soon as he 'tames' them, he loses interest in them. He's very good in bed, very open minded unlike in every other aspect of his life. No one ever left Orion's bed unsatisfied.
Orion needs intimacy- he never had a simple one night stand. Even with his briefest affairs, he still took the time to know them first, and never jumped in bed at the first opportunity, nor was he one to feel attraction for a woman just based on her looks. I think he liked 'the hunt' most of all.
That aside, if his marriage hadn't broken apart, he'd have never cheated on Walburga. Before everything went to hell, for the first ten years of their marriage, he didn't even think of other women, was 1000000% satisfied with his wife. Even after it all went down the drain, during the years, whenever Walburga gave the briefest sign she wants him back in her bed, he'd abandon whoever he was with and come *running* back home, eating up whatever scrap of affection he could get from her.
Walburga was basically into everything Orion suggested, and she had a few suggestions of her own (learned from those erotica and sometimes straight up smut novels that she loves and were mentioned very briefly in It runs) that she wanted to try out. She loves dangerous men (that's why we see her reading books with a naked, fanged vampire on the cover). I'm certain she made Orion pretend he was a vampire at least once 😂 She also had a slight exhibitionism streak when she was younger and they lived in Egypt, which put Orion on edge (but also secretly delighted him). They weren't even having full on sex back then (Orion insisted they wait until marriage) but she found ways to rile him up and play with him and drive him mad until they finally retuned to England and got married.
Bellatrix is creative and she always chases a thrill, and her sex life is fabulous. Rabastan, poor dear, had seen and heard things in that Manor that either give him nightmares, either inappropriate dreams staring his sister in law and his brother. Sometimes, Bellatrix likes duels as foreplay, so she and Rodolphus destroy parts of the Manor and then fuck in the middle of the damage. Of course, they also have calmer sex, an entire day of lazying in bed with Rodolphus, filled with gentle love-making. But when they're feeling more wild and duels come into play, whoever wins gets to dictate the encounter.
No one knows what Narcissa likes in bed, only Lucius, and it took him like a few years to find out. So whatever happens in bedrooms in Malfoy Manor, shall remain between them.
Andromeda takes after her grandmother Irma, both in bed and out of it. Ted is her boy toy. He does whatever she asks, and they both enjoy it a lot.
Regulus, the little repressed freak, once he finally gets to have sex, he lets loose, and then he feels guilty for it, because he considers whatever he did as something beneath a man of his station. Orion should have really paid more attention to him, but he was also very young when Orion died, so they didn't get to have fun sex talk like Sirius got. He's so allergic to feelings and affection, he enjoys impersonal sex the most. Regulus only knows to accept love and give it back with his mother and his brother, no one else.
Sirius is- well, we know Sirius. Because of the way he was raised and all the shit he got from his mother about liking boys, he does have certain unhealthy behaviours. He adheres to the strict gender roles when it comes to sex, so when he's with a woman, he must always be in charge. That doesn't mean he isn't adventurous, but only as long as he has control. Even when he first gets with Voldemort, he unconsciously puts Voldemort in the 'woman's role' in his head. It takes a while for him to get comfortable, and he's lucky Voldemort is a very patient dude. Obviously, after that happens, we can see Sirius definitely has some sort of Daddy kink. Not that he'd think of it like that, nor would the word 'daddy' ever be uttered while he has sex with Voldemort, but he enjoys being taken care of by an older, powerful man. He also has a big praise kink, so there's that.
He's into different things in bed, depending if he's with a man or a woman. And while he did have plenty of mindless one night stands, I think he is most satisfied when he has a deep connection with his partner. He's desperate for affection, for a true connection, even if he was also afraid of having a bond like that. It's why he tried to distance himself from Marlene, even if he wanted her, because he was simply afraid of growing too close.
You never harass me with questions! I love the questions, especially because they make me think of my lovely Blacks and their mysterious lives. ❤️
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gracexthoughts · 8 months ago
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of violent delights chap 5
trapped
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TW: Panic attack, talk of abuse and claustrophia. I have added ** to the beginning and end of the scene so it can be avoided. I've also put a summary of this moment at the very end. 
9 November 1996
Euphemia's POV
Harry had to stay in the hospital for the rest of the weekend. I sprained my wrist in my attempt to catch him but beyond that, I came away in better shape than my brother. There's something he isn't telling me but I won't pry, not yet at least. Saturday's match shook us both up pretty badly. Watching Harry tumbling out of the sky may be the most terrified I've been since I was little. The sight has been plaguing my nightmares the last few nights, mixing with the old dreams of Voldemort and Sirius Black and the Dursleys. I slept so poorly last night that I am basically running on coffee. 
"Alright, that's all for today. Reminder that your essay on your chosen creature are due on Thursday," Professor Lupin announces, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to reality. Quickly, I begin packing up my notes and textbook sloppier than I normally would in my daze. 
"Phe, let me get that for you," Fred says from my shoulder, reaching out for my bag. I shake my head, not interested in being coddled. I only sprained my wrist and I can carry my own bag. "S'arlight, Freddie. I have to talk to Lupin. I'll meet you in History of Magic, okay?" Fred nods, leaving the classroom with the rest of my friends as I walk towards Lupin's desk. "Professor, might I have a word?" 
Lupin turns, eyebrows raised at me in concern. "Certainly, are you well? I spoke to Harry earlier today about the match this weekend." 
"I'm fine. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I was doing some reading yesterday, on dementors, and I found a charm to repel them. The Patronus Charm." 
"Yes," Lupin says slowly, leaning back against his desk. Sunlight streams through the windows at an angle, a beam cutting through the air between us, looking like a golden veil was hung between me and the professor. 
"Can you teach it to me? And Harry?" 
"Euphemia.." Lupin starts but I cut him off. 
"We can't go on without some way to defend ourselves. We were lucky this time but we might not be again. From what I've read this charm is the only defense against them. We have to learn it," I speak quickly, nerves causing my hands to shake slightly at my sides. "Please."
Lupin considers me for a long moment, before standing straight up with a weary sigh. "It well beyond the Ordinary Wizarding Levels..." 
"I can handle it," I say quickly causing Lupin's lips to twitch into a sad smile. 
"You looked very much like your mother when you said that. She was always at the top of our class, intelligent beyond her years. I suppose... if anyone could master the Patronus at such young ages it would be the children of James and Lily." Lupin studies me sadly, a flicker of pride lingering in his eyes. 
"So you'll do it?" 
"Yes, I can try. I do not claim to be an expert at fighting dementors and it will have to wait until next term. I'm afraid I've chosen a busy time to fall ill." Lupin says, turning to look at the papers stacked on his desk. 
"That's fine, thank you, sir. Thank you very much," I say earnestly, smiling at him through the golden veil of sunlight. He nods slowly and I turn, leaving the class much more hopeful than when I entered it. 
10 November 1996
Riddle and I stroll down the halls, walking our usual route through the castle in a slightly tense silence. Really, slightly tense is about as close to comfortable as we can get. We are near the end of our rounds, when a huge crash echoes through the hall causing both of us to jump. 
"The hell was that?" I ask, turning around searching for the source of the crash. 
"Dunno" Mattheo says, his eyes narrowed. Another crash sounds to our left, from a broom cupboard. I step towards it but Mattheo reaches out, grabbing me by the arm. Startled, I yank my arm back hard but Riddle's grip is harder and we stumble, my back hitting the wall as he collides with me, his hand reaching out to brace himself on the wall over my head. For a moment, we stand there completely still, stunned at the position we find ourselves in. I can't help but notice the faint scent of his cologne, the dark brown of his eyes where amusement dances as he stares down at me, a small grin on his lips. 
"Get off me!" I say angrily, snapping out of the moment, trying to push Riddle away. 
"Did you stop to think that you might not want to burst into whatever is happening in the closet, princess?" Riddle says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "I know I'm only ever in broom closets for one thing." 
"Please spare me the details of your favorite conquests. It's past curfew. What are we here for if not to catch people not in the dorms?" I respond sharply, refusing to admit that, no, I had not considered that possibility. 
"Your funeral," Riddle shrugs as he loosens his grip enough for me to shove him off. He stumbles back a few steps, a crooked and cocky grin growing on his face as he chuckles slightly. 
I step towards the door carefully and knock, Riddle to snorts a laugh behind me. The sounds stop from inside the closet and I roll my eyes, pulling open the door. As I do something sweeps out over me and before I know it, I am stumbling forward from a force at my back.  I stumble forward, catching myself on the back wall of the closet, and Riddle tumbles in after me before the door slams shut. I hear a cackling from the other side of the door as Peeves compliments himself and the rattle of the doorknob as Riddle tries and fails to open the door. No, no, no, please.
Mattheo's POV
I quickly turn back to the door, throwing my weight against the wood. "PEEVES! Let us out!" I bellow, trying to get the door open. Peeves just continues cackling as his voice gets quieter and quieter, presumably as he floats leisurely down the corridor, immensely pleased with himself.  I bang one last time against the door, groaning in frustration before turning around and reaching in my pocket for my wand. "Lumos," I murmur and a soft light blooms from the tip of my wand. "Alohomora!" I say and try to open the door to no avail  and kick the door once more for good measure. "Fuck."  
**
I sigh and turn back to face Potter, leaning against the door. Now that there is light in the room, I notice her pressed up against the back wall, her breath shallow and uneven. "What's the matter with you?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. 
"Shut up," she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wall. Her chest heaves with each uneasy breath, her hands pressed tightly up against the wall, her heart beating so hard and rapidly I can see her pulse in her neck. 
"Potter, what is happening? We'll get out eventually, everything's fine. No need to panic."
"Mattheo! Shut up!" She yells suddenly, her eyes wide and fear filled.
I stand there stunned for a moment, watching Euphemia Potter try to control her breathing and she slides down the wall till she's sitting, her knees pulled up to her chest. She's never called me by my first name before and she's certainly never lost her cool in front of me. No matter how hard I've pushed she has always maintained her cool, any anger or hatred might bubble on the surface but still always under her control. Her breathing is steadily getting quicker and quicker as she places her hand over her chest, rubbing roughly against her uniform sweater. Panic attack. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks and I sink down to my knees and reach out towards her but she recoils away from my touch. 
"It's okay, Euphemia. Just try and focus on my voice, okay? You're safe, you're gonna be okay. Try and breath with me, okay?" I sit against the door, trying to give her as much space as possible, and breath deeply, exaggerating my movements so she can follow better. I'm not sure how long we sit here, me breathing deeply as she tries to match me. Slowly, her breathing slows and the fear in her eyes melts, no longer wild with panic and fear. 
Eventually, her breathing slows to near normal and she drops her knees to sit crisscross, her thumb and forefinger playing her ring. "Thank you," she whispers so quietly I almost miss it. "I just really don't like tight spaces." 
"Yeah, I kinda put those pieces together myself," I say although I immediately regret responding with a quip. "Sorry." 
"No, actually you being irritating is helping. Distracting," she huffs a small laugh. "I don't think I've ever heard you apologize," she adds after a moment. 
"Hm, I don't do it often. I'm so very rarely wrong," I grumble, still watching Euphemia closely as she scoffs, shaking her head slightly. "If we're talking firsts, I've never heard you call me Mattheo before." 
"Well you wouldn't shut up," she quips, shrugging as she studies me for a moment. 
"I thought you said me talking was helping." 
"Now, not before," she corrects. "Did you try Alohomora?" I nod and she sighs, her face screwing up in concentration as she tries to think of another solution. 
We sit in silence for a long moment and I watch her. The way she bites her lip as she thinks, her green eyes bright even in the dim light, and her hands fidget with her ring, the pale stone catching the light every so often, the lighting scar on her left hand shining white as its illuminated by the light from my wand, her hair messier than it was in the hallway, more pieces falling around her face, softening her features. I think back to that first night we did rounds together, where she flinched at my raised hand, and I realize, possibly for the first time, that maybe her life isn't as perfect as I always thought it was... 
She suddenly takes a deep breath, leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed. "You alright?" She nods slowly, her fingers spinning her ring quickly. "Someone will find us eventually," I assure her. I want to say more, ask who hurt her so badly she flinches at a raised hand and panics in small spaces, and honestly, I'm surprised at my own interest. Violence and abuse is nothing new to me. I have a record longer than my arm of all the fist fights I've gotten into in the last 5 years alone and most of the people I know and grew up with have been punished by their parents physically in one way or another. But something about watching Euphemia Potter curled in on herself makes me want to find whoever did this to her and hurt them so badly they never lay a hand on anyone else ever again. 
"My aunt and uncle... when I made them mad, which was pretty often... as I'm not really obedient by nature," she chuckles softly, "... they had this small cupboard under the staircase... they'd put us in there. Added a lock to the outside so we couldn't get out..." She speaks quietly and slowly, making sure to keep her breath measured and deep, she voice shaking slightly. 
"Merlin... that's terrible," I say eventually, surprised she's willing admit this to me. I clench my fists, trying to control the rise of anger in my chest. Why do I care all of a sudden?  She shrugs slightly, pulling her knees back up to her chest. "I don't think I ever knew who you lived with 'til now... did you ever report anything to the Ministry?" 
"They're Muggles. Ministry of Magic doesn't care about Muggles," she says simply, her eyes meeting mine for the first time. 
"I thought the Potter family was a pureblood fam-" 
"Mum was Muggleborn. Her sister, my aunt, hated her for being a witch." 
"There wasn't anyone else? Any one better?" I ask, truthfully bewildered that the golden children, the saviors of the wizarding world, have absolutely no one else to turn to. She just shrugs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry." 
"Two apologies in less than an hour? Who are you and what have you done to Mattheo Riddle?" She asks, her eyes narrowed mischievously. Her fingers still dance around her ring but the worst of the panic seems to have faded, or she's adept at hiding it.
**
"I'm not completely unsympathetic," I say, "Besides, it wouldn't be fair to kick you while you're down," I add as an afterthought. 
"Like that's ever stopped you before. I've seen you beat people unconscious and keep going," she challenges, but I don't see judgement in her eyes like I normally do, but rather a cool interest. Like I am a problem she can't figure out how to solve. 
"Maybe they deserved it," I say and I begin to feel uncomfortable under her watchful gaze. Her green eyes seem to pierce through my skin, through the armor of indifference I've spent years building around myself and I find I'm feeling vulnerable and exposed.
"So, any ideas how we get out of here, princess?" I ask, ducking my gaze away from hers, suddenly itching to get away from this closet where so many vulnerabilities have been laid bare. 
"Fred and George will figure it out eventually," she says confidently. I raise my eyebrow. 
"Uh, what makes you think that? I didn't think the Weasley twins were the brightest of the ginger bunch." 
"Oi, we were having a not-so-terrible moment, don't ruin it by making fun of my friends," she says defensively and I raise my hands in surrender. "At least one of them always stays up until I come back to the common room after rounds and when I don't show up, well, let's just say they have a way to find me." 
"Okay...Two questions: Why and how?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. 
"The why is that George and Freddie are protective and they don't trust you. The how is a secret," she says simply, running her fingers through her hair, my eyes following the movement. 
I avert my eyes and look down at my watch. "Well we should've been done about a half hour ago so I hope they catch up soon. I think this is now officially the most time we've spent together in one sitting, princess." 
"And we haven't killed each other yet. We must be growing up," she quips sarcastically, making us both laugh. They are genuine laughs and for a moment, I think hers is the best thing I've ever heard. 
Another 10 or so minutes pass, and we sit there across from each other, sometimes chatting and sometimes sitting in an easy silence. It is the most enjoyable time that I have ever spent with Euphemia Potter, panic attack aside. 
"Mia!" A voice calls distantly and Euphemia jumps up, stumbling over me to reach the door, kicking my knee slightly and I grunt. 
"Fred! George!" She calls back frantically, banging on the door of the closet. I breathe a sigh of relief, sitting on the stone floor was getting painful and I was starting to think Potter placed too much faith in the Twins; I push myself up to stand behind her. 
There is some shuffling and talking on the other side and soon, the door opens, dim light flooding in from the darkened corridor, to reveal the Weasley Twins on the other side, wearing matching panicked expressions. As soon as the door is opened, Mia stumbles out and and into one of the Twins arms, causing the pair to stumble back and allowing me to step out of the broom closet. Before I have fully stepped into the corridor, the twin not holding Mia grabs me by the collar and slams me against the wall, the back of my head connecting with the rough stone wall.
"What the hell did you do to her?!" He yells at me. On instinct I swing my fist up, connecting with his jaw and shove him off me. 
"Fred!" Mia gasps, and tries to step forward but George holds her back. Fred stands upright, anger in his eyes as he takes a swing for me. I duck his first swing but he lands a second in my gut, knocking the wind out of me and before I can recover I'm back to being pressed up against the wall with Fred's snarling face inches from mine. "How dare you touch her, you piece of shit!" 
"I didn't do shit, Weasley!" I snarl back, grappling with him roughly. Both the Twins have a few inches on me but I've been in more fights this term than they have their whole lives. I take another swing but Fred is ready this time and ducks causing me to graze his shoulder,  and he retaliates with a punch to my mouth. 
"It wasn't his fault! FRED STOP!" Mia shouts, louder than I thought possible for her. Fred stops for a moment, looking at the girl. 
"Yeah right," scoffs Fred, keeping me pinned to the wall. 
"I didn't do shit!" I spit, a little blood mixing with my saliva. 
"I didn't ask you, Riddle." 
"It was Peeves! He shoved us and locked us in somehow. It wasn't Mattheo's fault!" Potter says, breaking out of George's hold. She steps towards us and manages to get Fred to release his grip of me and pushes him back. At her touch, Fred visibly relaxes, his eyes quickly scanning Euphemia and, seeing no signs of any hurt, steps back further and my gut twists. 
"I told you I-"
"And what, may I ask, is happening here?" We all turn towards the voice, startled out of the stand off to see Professor Lupin standing at the end of the hall, his eyes scanning the four of us, the blood on my lip, and raises his eyes. 
"Apologies, Professor. Riddle and I got locked in this closet by Peeves. Fred and George just came to get us out," Euphemia supplies easily, removing her hands from Fred.  Lupin watches Euphemia standing between Fred and I, George behind us and raises an eyebrow. 
"And?" 
"I was blamed for no reason" I grumble, glaring at Fred. 
"And how, might I ask, did Mr. and Mr. Weasley know where to find you?" Lupin asks, seeming suspicious. 
"Hm, I'd like to know that as well," I say, looking at Fred. The Twins exchange a glance, the kind of mind reading look that twins are famous for, but before they come up with a story, Euphemia speaks up. 
"They know what parts of the castle are Riddle's and my responsibility. When I didn't come back when I normally do they got worried." 
"Yeah, we walked around until we heard Mia yelling, sir," George adds, sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging his shoulder. 
"Hm" Lupin sighs, eyeing the trio and then me, "Well then, that was very chivalrous of the two of you. However, you are out past curfew and fighting. Five points from Gryffindor each for breaking curfew and another 5 for fighting for both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Riddle," Lupin declares simply. "Is everyone alright? I can escort you to the hospital wing if needed." 
"No," I grumble at the same time Fred and George say, "No, sir." 
"Thank you, professor. We'll go right back to the dorms," Potter adds to which Lupin nods. 
"Yes, please. See that you do. Goodnight," Lupin says, turning and walking back the way he came slowly. 
"C'mon, guys," Euphemia says quietly, tugging on Fred's arm. Fred spares me one last glare, which I match, before turning away. Potter hesitates for a moment, turning back to me with a soft smile. "Thank you." I nod in acknowledgement and watch for a moment as the trio turns away, Fred's arm around Euphemia's shoulders, and that strange twist in my gut returns. 
A/N: Wow this is a long one (3.6 words) but I hope you enjoy it and enjoy getting to see Mia and Mattheo actually connecting for once as they begin to start deconstructing some of their preconceived ideas about each other. And protective Weasley twins, my loves. 
Summary of scene between the **: 
Mia and Mattheo are locked in the broom closet and Mia starts having a panic attack. Mattheo, after realizing what is happening starts trying to calm her down and guiding her breathing while sitting as far away from her as possible. After a while, she is able to calm down and admits that the Dursley's would lock her in the cupboard under the stairs when he misbehaves. (Harry and Mia shared the room that canon Harry sleeps in from Chamber of Secrets onward since they wouldn't both fit under the stairs but didn't want to remove the cupboard aspect completely) They talk a little about why Mia and Harry were given to the Dursley's and Mattheo starts realizing that the Potter's life may not have been as perfect as he has always assumed and feels angry for Mia. He comments that in her panic, Mia called him Mattheo for the first time, and he also apologizes for a quip he makes and that she had to be raised the way she was. Mia then jokes that Mattheo never apologizes. 
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anjuschiffer · 2 years ago
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Amira Wayne - Chapter 22
...two years huh?...
My god, this took waaay to long to write. So many scenes were deleted, revised, trashed... I realized I added a story event way too early and then that affected the entire flow of everything, hell, an entire arc was deleted because i didn't realize my mistake until chapters later...(I was planning on Mari/Jason/Wally/Damian taking the fox miraculous but eh, there goes that...)
Anyways, I'm finally back (for now) to write Amira Wayne! (Unless my new job also starts taking a toll on my mental health like my past one...) We have roughly four chapters left? Maybe five? Six? I know for sure that there’s an epilogue tho. So for sure four. 
Really want to thank everyone for their patience, so please enjoy this chapter and see you in the next :D
-
P.Tag: @toodaloo-kangaroo​ @elijahcrevan​ @vixen-uchiha​ @nathleigh​
Tag: @we-want-mini-mini​ @ramos123​ @bluesimani @redscarlet95​ @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11​ @anonymously-odd​ @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek​ @galla02006​ @maleive07 @jayjayspixiepop​
-
Chapter 22: Family, Friends and Identites (1)
MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | A03
Amira woke up with a start, wondering how she arrived on her bed. The last thing she remembered was hugging Mama and...crying. 
Is that why her throat was dry?
“Feeling alright?” Wally spoke up, Amira noticing that he was bringing in a tray of food. “It’s one in the afternoon.” He provided when he saw her searching for her phone. He watched as she opened it up, only to scrunch her nose at whatever it was she saw upon opening it before tossing her phone aside.
“Day?”
“Still Christmas if you’re wondering. Everyone is downstairs.” Amira opened her mouth before closing it again… “We were just seconds behind when we found out where you were…” A silence fell over them. 
“Is…is she here?” She dared to ask, seeing Wally shake his head before letting out a small sigh. 
“Before we left her place, she asked us to give you this.” Wally motioned to a wrapped present on the floor after placing the tray down, Amira taking the envelope he handed towards her. “Or rather, she told me to personally hand it to you. Didn’t say what the contents were.” Wally leaned against the ladder he had halfway climbed. 
“I see.” Was all she could say as she held the envelope in her hands. 
Was it okay for her to open it right now?
Did her father know about it?
“So Talia Al Ghul, huh.” Wally said again, Amira looking at him. “Didn’t expect that twist.”
“It wouldn’t have been a twist had Ra’s allowed my parents to be together.” Wally tilted his head. “They eloped a year before I was born.” Wally fell from the ladder, causing Amira to rush down and help him get up. “You alright?”
“They were going to get married?” 
“They planned it. But it never got further than that.” Amira elaborated, staring at the letter in her hand. 
‘Because Ra’s forbade them to see each other again. He locked her mother up within her own home to prevent her from seeing her father,’ she wanted to add, but stopped upon remembering the threats he told Talia. 
How he used her as a hostage despite being miles away. How he threatened to kill her if Talia dared to step out of line. How he arranged a marriage with another man, the same man who-
“-ease! Amira!” Wally frantically yelled, Amira snapping out of her thoughts, looking at Wally whose eyes held panic. “Can you hear me? Answer me, please…”
She reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. 
“I’m still here…” At least for now. “I just...remembered something that my mother told me about her father...that’s all.” She said, relaxing her hand in his.
She didn’t expect him to hug her, Amira hugging him back after her initial shock. 
“I was worried.” She felt him hug her tighter.
“I figured...sorry about that.”
“I thought-“
“But I’m here...and alright.” A chuckle escaped Wally. 
“A bandaged hand and a bandage on your face doesn’t exactly scream safe you know.”
“Better than actually being dead.” She joked, only to feel him tense. He took a step back to look at her, cupping her face in the process. 
“What do you mean by that?” Amira placed her hands over his. 
“I…Didn’t I-“ Wally shook his head, lowering his hands, holding hers as he did. 
“You passed out after Selina went to find you.” 
“What about Tim? Did he say anything? Because I’m assuming he did if Selina found out I was coming back via zeta-“
“He only told us that. That you were coming back.” Wally tightened his grasp on Amira. “Amira, what exactly do you mean ‘not dead’? What happened at the manor?”
Amira pursed her lips before sighing. 
“Where should I start? From the moment I stepped into the Cave or how I got these injuries?”
“Probably from the Cave.” Just as Amira was about to retell the story, the duo heard rapid footsteps rushing upstairs.
“Marinette!” Chloe yelled, Amira flushing red when she realized she was still holding Wally’s hands, taking a step back, only for the two to get tackled by Chloe. “Marinette!” 
Chloe proceeded to cry, clinging onto Marinette, Wally giving her a small smile as he helped the two back up. “I missed you!”
“Guess I’ll leave to-“
“Chloe! You can’t just- Marinette!” Sabrina was about to scold, only to join Chloe in the group hug. “You’re al-you’re not alright! What happened to your hand? Your face?” 
“Got in a fight with someone and sprained my hand a bit, but I’m alright. And before you ask, no. It wasn’t from the person who “kidnapped” me.” Marinette clarified when she saw anger flash in Sabrina’s eyes. “These were from someone...else.”
Wally narrowed his eyes. “Wally, you don’t have to worry about them anymore. They should be in Arkham right about now.” She assured in English, risking the chance that Sabrina might possibly know the language. As for Chloe, Amira could only hope for her to ignore the comment. 
“I still want to know what happened.” 
“I’ll tell you later. For now,” She gestured at her two friends still hugging her. “Let’s go downstairs. I think it’s about time we let the others know I’m okay, don’t you think?”
-
Tim watched as Bruce frantically stuffed a bag together, watching as he finished placing a silver case over his luggage.  
Amira’s sudden appearance in Gotham and then Ra’s appearance with Damian at the manor followed by Slade’s raid…something was up.
Bruce let out a huff, still attempting to process everything that happened last night, which only reminded him that he needed to make sure he had to be prepared for anything coming their way…especially Amira’s.
Of course, his concern caused him to shut Alfred’s attempts at a proper conversation. He knew Alfred was trying to tell him something, but that could wait.
He needed to go to Paris to make sure Amira was alright.
Bruce’s panicked state also caused a certain someone to want to be filled in with the details, disguising his interest with curiosity.
“Father, why can’t I go?” Damian asked for the umpteenth time, Tim wondering when he was going to stop. 
Seriously, it was starting to become annoying. He’s been at it for the past ten minutes.
“I already told you. You are to stay here and wait for my return.”
“I can help.”
“Damian, I already told you no.” Bruce sternly reminded him. 
“Just-“
“I said no and that is final.” Bruce sternly said, Tim watching Damian promptly shut up. After a very long silence between the two, Damian let out a small huff.
“Very well then.” He made his way to the Batcomputer. “Seems like I have no choice but to stay behind.”
Bruce felt something off, but thought nothing much of it. 
“I should be back within a month or two. Or less.” Bruce pulled the last of his luggage closer to him. “Tim.” Tim straightened. “J’onn will be here shortly to help cover for me until Dick returns. Make sure to show him the ropes.”
“Understood.” Tim answered, only then wondering why J’onn was going to come if- no way. “Did you-”
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” Bruce reminded Tim, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I’ll be there without hesitation. And if I can't, don’t hesitate to contact Barry or Clark…maybe Oliver if the situation becomes dire.”
All Tim could do was nod as Bruce vanished through the Zeta tube, never feeling the glare he was getting from Damian. 
As he watched his father leave, Damian swerved back to look at the screens in front of him, eyeing the one at the corner, watching as his father left the Parisian telephone booth and walked in a straight line towards a hotel named Le Grand Paris.
Who knew it was so easy to track a single person miles away with the help of a few buttons.
What are you hiding, Father?
-
The sounds of the twins screaming and squealing made Alya groan upon waking up. It didn’t help that she couldn’t find her phone that was constantly going off.
She was sure she had left it beside her pillow last time, having dozed off upon rewatching some of her blog videos while the rest of the family socialized with one another in the living room just hours ago. 
Alya let out a sigh when she saw it on the floor, picking it up while more messages kept coming in. She let out a small smile as she looked at her phone, the class group chat filled with everyone saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to each other, pictures of themselves with family, pictures of their gifts or of them enjoying their day. 
Even Lila had posted a small Christmas breakfast picture, Alya glad she was finally warming up to them...
If only the class would accept Chloe, Sabrina, Adrien and Marinette just as easily. 
Alya had tried to change her classmates’ view on the outcasts, but the class wouldn’t budge. 
Chloe had been a brat since their first year in élémentaire, Sabrina being seen just as equally of a brat as she was always tagging along with her. Adrien being Chloe’s childhood friend gave the class a bad impression of him and they didn’t try to get to know him once they knew that. They rather save the trouble of knowing whether or not it was true opposed to knowing if he was anything like Chloe. And then there was Marinette. 
Thanks to the incident on the first day of school, the class was actually intimidated to approach Marinette, fearing that her demeanor would influence those around her in a bad way, just like it had towards Nino. Ever since Nino started to hang out with her, he has been more opinionated, always taking her side instead of theirs, always bringing up opposing arguments instead of trying to accept their side.
So in fear of having themselves manipulated by the Gothamite, the class chose to stay away from her. Completely.
When Alya saw that the class wouldn’t change their impressions, she gave up. 
As long as she knew that Marinette wasn’t that bad of a person the rest had painted her to be, Alya could tolerate the other three. Especially when she found out that Marinette was on to something in regards to Lila.
Will you really blindly accept the words of a person without doing any type of investigation?
Ever since Marinette told her that, the words ate at Alya’s conscience. 
After jotting down everything that Lila had ever told her, Alya quickly went to research about each claim Lila had spoken since she had arrived at the school, with each passing tale showing that Lila’s trips and stories didn’t add up. Not even remotely.
With a bit of research done, Lila was telling the truth about constantly traveling thanks to her mother’s job, having a hard time making friends as she never stayed in the same school for more than half a year. That Lila did actually travel to Achu, but she never met Prince Ali. How she actually met stars on red carpets, but wasn’t actually close with any of them despite the various photos she’s taken with them. (It was nice to know that with a bit of money and a fake smile, you could trick others into believing a fake relationship between two people.) How she never went to Gotham, completely debunking her story of being at the Gala.
After all, the guest list of the event was revealed the day after, the article also listing the top five donors for M.Wayne’s latest foundation created by his son Jason Todd.
The evidence of Lila’s tales went on for another two pages, but that was enough for Alya to show Marinette that she was still determined to be an actual reporter. Of being someone who snuffed out the truth to share with those around her.
Now, all she had to do was show it to her.
Quickly scrolling through her contacts, it was only then that Alya realized she never asked Marinette for her number, panic rising in her as she tried to think of a way to tell her-
Of course! She could always just visit the bakery!
Grabbing her coat, Alya didn’t care if she was still in last night’s Christmas outfit, shouting a ‘goodbye, I’ll be back’ to her parents and older sister as she ran to the Dupain-Cheng bakery only to stop midway.
How did she forget?
Ever since the incident...Alya never talked to Marinette...never checking in on her...not even once…
She had been so busy trying to figure out what Marinette had meant by the speech the moment before she got akumatized that she never checked in on Marinette the minute the incident was over…because according to Marinette, Jason Todd was dead even though the article covering the gala said otherwise…
According to the article, Jason Todd was alive.
So then...what was the actual truth?
Could Marinette be the one who wasn’t telling the truth? Or was she? Was Marinette even trustworth-
Alya slapped her cheeks with her hands, letting out a whine despite it not hurting.
Why was she thinking that way? 
Right now, Alya had to check on her friend...after all, just what kind of friend doesn’t check in on a bestie after a traumatizing event...who does that?!
But this was it! This was her chance! She could fix that right now… right?
Mustering the courage to mend her mistake, Alya braced herself for a possible lecture as she made her way to the bakery, only to stop once again when she saw an ever so familiar figure make their way in the same direction she was going, or so she thought.
She watched as he turned a corner, his luggage leaving small trails in the once fresh snow.
But even if M.Wayne wasn’t heading towards the bakery...
What was he doing in Paris?
“Recognized. Batman. 02.” 
Bruce quickly placed a hat on as soon as he stepped out of the phone booth, hoping that no one nearby would recognize him. After all, he was expected to be in Gotham all day in preparation for the End of Year Gala. 
Without a moment's hesitation, Bruce quickly checked into Le Grand Paris, much to the surprise of the receptionist. 
He wheeled his luggage into Selina’s forgotten suite, sorting his items a bit on the bed before unpacking a few things into the case he had compiled at the Cave. 
Scurrying his way back downstairs and out into the snow, he made his way to the only bakery he knew in Paris: Tom & Sabine's Boulangerie Pâtisserie.
“Nino! Nino, look!” Nino slowly blinked, trying to keep up with Adrien’s enthusiasm. “Nino, isn’t this the best present or what?” Adrien squealed, a hamster shoved into Nino’s face, Nino only then finally processing what was going on. 
He quickly pushed himself up the sofa, almost slipping off it when his back hit the wall. 
“Dude, don’t just shove that in my face!”
“But Bruno has the cutest face I’ve ever seen! Just look at him!” Adrien exclaimed, snuggling the hamster close to his cheek. “Best Christmas present ever!” 
“Will your dad let you keep him?” 
“If he dares to try and take Bruno away from me,” Adrien let a grin rise to his face. “He’d better be prepared to have a brunet for a son.”  
Nino gawked as Adrien then lit up as he thought of something, watching as he ran up to Selina and motioned to Bruno, once again thanking the woman for his gift. 
Nino watched as Selina smiled and nodded as she proceeded to take out her phone and show him something that caused Adrien to squeal in delight.
Nino allowed himself to smile, his attention from Adrien shifting to elsewhere when he heard footsteps descending from Marinette’s room.
“Baguette!” “Dudette!” Nino and Adrien cried as Marinette stepped down the last step, tackling the poor girl as she tried to process what was going on.
“Are you okay?” “I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“Hey! Give her some space!”
“Chloe, you’re literally clinging onto her.”
“Hey, um, can I-”
“Well, I was here first!”
“I haven’t seen her since yesterday!”
“Dude, none of us have!”
“Guys, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Your face!” 
“Your hand!”
“Should we track the perpetrator down?” “Did you fight your kidnapper on your own?”
“Guys, can I-”
“Everyone!” Wally finally spoke up, making the group stop. “Marinette needs some space.” The quad of friends looked at their friend, noticing her staring off, quickly backing up from her, allowing Wally to guide her to a seat in the living room.
They watched as he coaxed her into looking at him and when she did, Wally spoke to her before she seemed to have snapped from her state, looking at her friends before looking at the floor.
“Sorry…about that.” Marinette spoke up, lifting her head up to look at the worry on her friends’ faces. “That…that’s never happened before…”
“We should be the ones apologizing.” Sabrina said, quickly standing up and sitting next to Marinette, placing her hand over hers. “You just got up and-”
“-we’re just glad to see you again.” Adrien softly cut off, giving her a small smile, everyone nodding their heads in agreement.
“Gave us quite the fright there.” Nino admitted, “not exactly the best way to start Christmas, as far as I know,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.
“That’s right!” Sabrina cheered up, clapping her hands together. “This is your first time celebrating Christmas with friends, isn’t it Marinette?” Marinette stared at her wide eyed, looking at Chloe and Adrien for confirmation and when they nodded, she stood up.
“Presents. Let’s hurry and exchange presents.” Marinette declared, Wally stifling a laugh at her panicked demand. 
“Adrien already opened his!” Nino snitched, getting a ‘hey’ from said boy.
Marinette watched as everyone soon got up to grab the gifts they had brought for each other, feeling Wally reach over for her hand, tugging her to sit back down.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t-”
“I’m fine.” Amira assured him as she sat back down, watching as her friends exchanged gifts with each other. “Plus, I owe them for ruining-”
“You didn’t ruin anything. After all, you didn’t expect that to happen. Hell, none of us did.”
“Still,” Amira watched as Chloe shrieked upon Adrien introducing her to Bruno while Sabrina squealed at the beret Chloe had gotten her. She yelled about having wanted it for a while and how it was made by some high end designer. “I ended up ruining Adrien’s hard work in planning this out for us.”
“If anything, I think it brought all of us closer.” Wally countered, noticing Jason peeked from the doorway of the apartment. “Closer to the point of unbreakable.”
Amira followed Wally’s line of view, getting up when she saw Jason, causing everyone to freeze.
“Well, don’t stop the party because of me,” Jason stepped forward with a wagon filled with presents, Amira noticing Dick quickly making his way out of the apartment with a phone pressed to his ear. “If anything, let’s get this party going!”
Who was Dick talking to?
-
Alya rang the bell for what she believed to be the third time, glancing to her sides as she waited for an answer. When no one came down, she rang again, now starting to get anxious. 
Why was no one answering?
As far as she knew, Marinette was still home, at least according to the conversations she eavesdropped from Adrien and the rest of the group before break had started. According to Adrien, Marinette didn’t have any plans for the holidays. No family visits, no party -zilch. 
So then, why wasn’t she-
“-haven’t come down yet?” A voice spoke up from behind Alya, Alya quickly jumping once she registered the voice. “Sorry about that! Didn’t mean to scare you.” The woman apologized, stretching out her hand towards Alya. “I’m Barbara. What about you?”
“Alya…” Alya answered cautiously, shaking Barbara’s hand. “Wha-What were you trying to ask me earlier?”
“Oh! Simply asked if the person you were trying to ring had come down yet, but judging from the fact that we’re still out here, I’m guessing no.”
“She should be here though.” Alya persisted, staring at the complex’s door. “Marinette-”
“Marinette?” Barbara chirped, Alya wondering how this lady knew her friend. “As in Marinette Dupain?” 
“Y…yes…although her full name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng…”
“Oh that’s right, Tom married Sabine- anyways, what a coincidence. I’m also here to see Marinette so don’t worry!” Barbara gave Alya a grin, motioning to a box with holes she had held close to her chest. Rustling was heard coming from within the box, perking Alya’s curiosity. “Someone should be coming down to-”
“Babs! You got it!” Dick cheered, causing Alya to jump upon hearing English, wondering who this was.
“Dick!” Dick? Wasn’t that like, an offensive term -insult maybe?- towards another person back in America? “What took you so long? I’m freezing over here!”
“Sorry about that,” ‘Dick’ said, sheepishly grinning as he offered Babs to walk into the building, only then noticing Alya. “And who might you be?” ‘Dick’ asked in perfect French.
“I-I’m Alya, sir.” She noticed him flinch, his smile becoming strained. “I’m Marinette’s friend from-”
“Mimi’s friend?!” Dick squealed, Alya registering how quickly his mood changed upon mentioning- Mimi? Who was Mi-
“Come on Dick, A- who’s this?” Another voice joined, Alya quickly noticing the other boy who she guessed followed ‘Dick’ downstairs. His red hair clicked something in her mind. Why did he look kinda familiar?
“My name is Alya! I came to talk to Mari-”
“Come on you bozos! Let the girl in already!” Barbara scolded, “It’s already as cold as it is and you’re making it worse by leaving that door open.” She then motioned to the box in her hands. “Also, I need one of you guys to take a video of Amira’s-”
“Who’s Amira?” Alya asked, causing the other three to momentarily freeze, blocking the entire staircase.  
“Ah, good question.”
“You see-“
“Cesaire.” Chloe cut off, causing everyone to jump. As if her tone of saying the other girl’s name wasn’t hostile enough, Chloe’s glare clearly told them she wasn’t exactly on good terms with Alya. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that.” Alya asked, also glaring back at the other.
Oh…it's mutual.  “Why are you here?” Alya frowned when Chloe scoffed at her.
“Why should I be telling you my business? You should be minding your own bees- oh my- he’s rubbing off me.” Chloe cleared her throat, ��I’m here because of a Christmas party that Adri-”
“Christmas party? But I thought Marinette-”
“What is everyone doing here?” Selina barged in, sighing as she caught onto the situation with a single glance. “Dick, Wally. Head back to the party. Babs. I need you to tell these two girls that if they want to fight, to take it outside. I’m not going to let them add more stress to Ami-Marinette’s-” Selina noticing the two girls perk at the name, “-day. She’s still recovering and she needs to relax, not find out that two of her…classmates are fighting right outside her home.” 
With that, she stepped back into the apartment, leaving the three girls to handle the situation.
“I’m guessing you two aren’t exactly friends, but are with Marinette…right?” Barbara asked, just to confirm her theory.
“Of course I am!” The girls said in unison.
“For Marinette’s sake, Selina wants the two of you to settle your argument outside. Marinette is still recovering and she wants to make sure Marinette doesn’t get any more stress than what she already has to deal with already. Although to be honest, I think the same can be applied to me.”
“You?” Alya asked, wondering once more what this woman had to do with Marinette.
Giving the younger girl a small smile, Barbara gave her answer.
“We…We didn’t exactly last see each other on good terms… I… I stole something very precious to her without knowing…or rather…she found out I was the one who stole something precious from her without me knowing..” That’s all Barbara told them as she continued to walk up the stairs. “Come on now, we got a party to get to…or do the two of you actually plan on going outside to duke it out?”
Both girls looked at each other and huffed, following the older one into the apartment.
Guess it's a truce for now.
-
Why did the universe hate her so much?
“Nino, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t friends with Chloe?”
“Alya? I thought you were at home, celebrating with your family? And for the record, I'm friends with everyone in this room, except Bruno. He still has to prove himself.” Nino gestured to the hamster in Adrien’s hands.
“Leave my child out of this!” Adrien cried.
“Adrikins, he’s a ra-” Chloe started, only for Sabrine to cover her mouth.
“Don’t you dare call Bruno a rat unless you want him to go hysterical.” Sabrina warned her.
“Dick…I thought Jason-” Dick quickly silenced Babs by screaming and pulling her to the kitchen.
“Is that the girl who you said became Batg-” Amira never saw Wally throw a pillow so quickly at another person without hesitation, watching how Jason almost fell back from the impact.
The room had gone almost silent, no one knowing what exactly to do. 
Amira could only stare as she watched her friends and family bicker and whisper to each other, occasionally looking back at her.
Were they talking about her?
Why were they looking at her like that?
Did she do something wrong?
Should she not have done any of-
“-mira. Amira, māomāo, what’s wrong?” Selina quietly asked her, snapping her from her thoughts. Selina didn’t expect her to tackle her, wrapping herself around her waist. “Amira, everyone’s worried about you. Are you alright?”
Amira could only shake her head in response, feeling a lump in her throat. “Do you still want to continue the party?” She nodded, even though it was a hard thing to do. “Do you want to open Alfred’s present first?” Amira quickly whipped her head to look at her, Selina letting out a chuckle upon seeing her sparkling eyes, failing to see Adrien’s eyes widened at the mention of the name.
“Yes please.” 
Amira watched as Selina motioned Barbara to come forward, noticing a large box in her hands. 
“Hi…Marinette.” Barbara managed to say, carefully choosing her next words. “Alfred sent you this. He said to not worry what your father will say about it. After all, B can never say no to him.” Barbara tried to smile, but faltered. “Marinette, I …I have so many things I want to talk about and I-”
“If you’re asking me to forgive you for what you did to me back in Gotham…about the thing you did behind my back,” Amira started, placing her hands over Babs’. “I already forgave you for that,” Amira admitted, taking the box and placing it on the sofa. “Coming to Paris gave me time to think things over and…you’re doing a good job of-” 
Amira was tackled into a hug, not helping letting a smile out. 
“I’m so sorry Mars.” Babs squeezed her tighter. “Thank you for forgiving…I missed you…”
“I missed you too, Babs.”
“Come now māomāo,” Selina coaxed, not noticing the way Adrien’s eyes twinkled, his smile turning into a grin. “Let’s see what Alfred got you.”
Amira nodded, carefully opening the box, letting out a gasp at the sight of her latest friend.
“What in the Gods’ name is that?!” Chloe shrieked upon laying eyes on the creature. 
“A cat!” Amira cheered, bringing the sphynx cat out of its box, Sabrina letting out a coo when Marinette let her near the feline.
“That’s a cat?” Nino whispered to Adrien, who held his hamster close to his chest. 
“Kitten here is a boy, if you’re wondering.” Selina chirped in once she examined the cat and held it towards Amira, Amira giggling when the cat licked her. “What are you going to name him?”
“Liebling.” Amira confidently spoke, cradling the cat into her arms. “His name shall be Liebling.”
“Does this mean we’re going to start opening up the gifts?” Nino softly asked, feeling a hand on his shoulder, only to find Adrien give him a grin. 
“You bet and Nino, you’re gonna want to sit down for yours.” 
While everyone started to gather around the Christmas tree to hand each other their gifts, Alya simply stood near the kitchen, watching as everyone mingled with each other, laughing with one another. 
Was she the only one who thought she was friends with Marinette? 
Just what exactly was she to her?
Weren’t they friends?
-
Quickly making his way to the Dupain-Cheng residency, Bruce couldn’t help but notice the laughs and cheering echoing through the hallway as he entered the building and then into the apartment moments later.
Christmas music was playing in the background, the living room decorated from wall to wall in ribbons, reindeers, snowflakes…the list went on.
As he entered the room, he could feel the warmth radiating from the children chatting with themselves.
He also couldn’t help but notice gifts unwrapped and already in use. 
Chloé proudly wore a black cape wrap, yellow fluffy trimmed the edge of it. She had a few presents at her feet as she spoke with Sabrina who sported a cyan beret, a few embroidered mice motifs around the front of the beret.
Adrien had already opened his, the hamster Selina and Amira haven chosen rested on the boy’s lap, Adrien coaxing the tiny rodent to eat another piece of vegetable. 
Nino still looked starstruck from his gift, hesitating to place his fingers on the brand new DJ controller Adrien had gotten him, bringing his hands closer to it before quickly flinching away from it. Seems like he was also jittery around the camera bag by his feet as he stopped himself from stepping on it, Bruce noticing the separate lens bag nearby. Perhaps Chloe got him that.
“You just missed the first few rounds of present exchanges.” Selina whispered as Bruce placed his silver case down. “And you just missed Babs as well. She says Merry Christmas.”
The kids haven’t noticed him. Good. 
“Where’s Amira?” He dared to ask, feeling an all familiar pair of eyes boring through him, causing him to become unsettled. 
“Well, thank you for asking how I am doing.” Selina stated, digging her nails into his arm when she hooked her arm into his. She then pecked his lips. “As for Amira, she’s in her room with the boys and Babs; she wanted to quietly give Dick his gift without any prying eyes that weren't family.” Selina added, Bruce noticing how she was no longer digging her nails into his arm but was now grasping it tightly. 
“What’s wrong?” He softly asked her, taking her arm off him and now holding her hand, which she quickly jerked away from. “Selina? 
“What exactly happened at the manor last night?” She growled. “Amira came back crying which wasn’t something I was expecting. She even came back with injuries…what happened within the hour she was gone?”
“She didn’t tell you?” 
“I wouldn’t be asking if she had told me, now would I?” Bruce sighed.
“Slade-”
“What the fuck was he doing there?”
“-appeared in the manor last night and wreaked havoc.” Bruce decided to cut her off. “However, he wasn’t after Dick this time. He was after Amira.”
“He’s the one who injured her?” She hissed.
“Actually. He was after Ra’s Al Ghul’s…heir.” Bruce managed to say, observing her facial expressions. He watched as her anger diminished a bit, watching as her brows furrowed, her frown growing deeper as she tried to work out what was on her mind. “Selina, what-”
“Talia,” he stiffened. “Talia found Amira and-” Just as he was ready to bolt to their daughter’s room, Selina stopped him. “Bruce, she's fine. She was fine after meeting Talia, but- actually, she gave us a heart attack since Talia thought it was a good idea to kidnap-” Selina had to use more force when Bruce darted for his daughter’s room once again. “Bruce!” She hissed. “She needs space right now.”
“Selina, I need to make sure-”
“She needs time to process everything she’s been through this past day.” Selina held tighter onto Bruce’s hand. “She just meet her mother, found out that Jason’s alive, found out-”
“What…did you say?” Selina blinked, watching as Bruce began to blankly stare at her, his eyes narrowing, questioning if he heard what he heard was truly what he heard. “Selina. You-”
“Didn’t- didn’t Amira tell you? Because that was the whole reason why she went over there.” She quickly added because she knew Bruce and she knew what he was capable of when his eyes would grow dull like they just did. 
He slowly shook his head. “ What about Alfred?” He was about to shake his head once more until something seemed to have popped into his mind. “Bruce…Jason-”
“What about me?” The boy in question asked, having just turned the corner, his eyes closed as he held a small gift out for Selina. Bruce froze upon hearing a voice he didn’t know he had forgotten how it sounded. 
But…it couldn’t be… “If this is about not getting a gift from any of us, I’ll have to let you know that I do indeed-'' he said, opening his eyes. “-do have a gift for- Pops?” 
Jason stared at Bruce, noticing the tears that swelled into his eyes.
“Jay.” Bruce dared to ask. “Is that-” He didn’t need Jason to confirm anything. The minute Jason tackled him, Bruce knew. This was his son.
Is his son.
This is the son that had managed to slip through his fingers.
But not again. 
Not this time.
He won’t let any of his kids leave his grasp. Ever.
“-bother you mlle, but do you know if- M.Wayne!” Alya squeaked out, managing to shift everyone’s attention to the reuniting duo. Bruce noticed Adrien, Nino and Sabrina’s clear shock, but Chloe’s…
Why was she glaring at him? “What are you-
“Dad?” Dick arched a brow, Bruce feeling like a deer in headlights, turning to see Dick and Barbara stepping out of Amira’s room. “Weren’t you supposed to be in Go-”
“What’s going…” Amira trailed, freezing when she saw her father standing before her. “…on.”
“M. Wayne…“ Wally spoke, his eyes clearly showing his annoyance with the man.
“I thought you said you trusted me in traveling by myself, Pops.” Jason spoke up, Bruce grateful to have at least one person by his side.
“I do.” Bruce tried to pick up, hoping the others didn’t notice the way his voice cracked. “But I couldn’t help but wonder if you were doing okay, so I came to see how you were doing.” Jason gave him a smile, causing him to smile back.
“Hmph. Not even worried about his future wife I see.” Selina pouted. 
“Selina, that’s not-”
“Why don’t you two go and talk things out between each other?” Dick suggested as he guided the two towards the room Selina was staying at within the Dupain-Cheng residence. “Pretty sure there’s some things you two would love to talk about, right Jason?” Jason could only nod as he looked over to his sister and mouthed a ‘I’ll be back’ to her as he followed their parents and older brother.
The remaining teens looked at each other, Alya feeling a bit out of place now that the center of attention was shifted onto her. 
“Alya.” Marinette spoke up, making the girl jump. “What-”
“We need to talk.” Alya blurted out, noticing all eyes on her. “Alone. Please.” Marinette turned to see the others, noticing Wally and Chloe glare at her while the others wondered what Alya wanted to talk to her about.
“Can you wait a bit longer?” Alya pursed her lips. “Give me ten minutes and we can talk. You can wait in my room if you want while you wait.” 
“Alright.” Alya agreed. “Ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes.” Marinette said back, watching as Alya walked up to her room. 
“Are you sure about her?” Wally asked. “She didn’t exactly came here to-”
“We’ll see what she wants in a few. For now I just want to spend a few more minutes with my-”
“Marinette.” Selina spoke up, Amira turning to look at her, eyeing the gift in her hands. “I know we haven’t spent much time together, but Merry Christmas.”
Amira took the gift, carefully sitting down as she stared at the box. “I asked your father what would be a nice gift for you and after he told me about a few things you liked, the two of us came up with this.”
Amira lifted up the tissue, feeling her eyes begin to tear up. She felt tears fall when she lifted the stuffed animal from its box, a drawing from her childhood now psychically resting in her hands. 
Amira pushed back the hood from the doll’s head, causing her to tear up even more. 
Her friends watched in complete shock.
This…this was the first time they…that they have seen Marinette cried…ever…
And over a plushie at that.
How important is it to her?
What did it mean? 
“He still remembered that?” Marinette softly asked no one, bringing the doll close to her chest, as if afraid it would disappear if she didn’t hold on to it for dear life.
She didn’t know her father still remembered that drawing form years ago.
It was months before Dick joined the family, maybe years…how did he remember when she barely did?
She had to be roughly five years olds, maybe younger…she couldn’t exactly really remember how old she was when it happened…
-
“Papa, look what I made!” Amira ran to her father’s desk, quickly climbing onto his lap, careful to not wrinkle the paper in her hand, laying it nicely on top of the various papers adorning her father’s work desk. She missed the huff that escaped her father. Instead, he greeted her with a tired smile, shifting her a bit so that he could get a proper view of the paper she finished putting over the company’s latest project.
“Oh? Is that me?” Bruce asked his daughter, keeping a chuckle in when she pouted. “I like the new cape-”
“No Papa! It’s me!” Amira corrected, pointing at the oddly drawn human. “And my name is Chickadee! Your new sidekick!”
She pointed at the head. “My hood looks just like your costume but when I take it down!” She points at another face she drew, where only the eyes and hair were drawn. The lower part of the face was covered by what he assumed to be a mask. “Bam! I have another mask to cover my face! You always said it’s important to cover our identities! But I don’t want to put something over my head because I have long hair and it might make it hard to place a mask over my hair with a mask like yours.”
“Oh that’s a good thing to think about.” Bruce complimented, his heart swelling when she beamed at his compliment. “What about the cape? Did you make it shorter so that you won’t trip on it?”
“Yup! But I didn’t want to take it out because I need something to cover me when I got outside in the cold. But I don’t want to have a jacket because I think fighting in a jacket isn’t as cool as fighting in a cape. But the rest of my costume is inflated so I don’t freeze to death.” 
“Inflated?”
“Yeah, when it’s nice and toasty inside your clothes even though it's very thin?” When Bruce still seemed confused by her statement, she decided to elaborate. “It has the fuzzies inside?”
“Oh, insulated,” Bruce corrected. “I think you meant insulated. Inflated is what happens when you put air inside something like a balloon.”
“Ohhh… well, that. My costume still keeps me cozy and I like it. Do you like it?” Amira asked him, Bruce noticing her fidget with her hands.
“I like it very much.” He easily answered, kissing the top of her head, earning a giggle. “I can’t wait to have you as my sidekick.” Amira gasped, turning to hug him.
“You really mean it?”
“When you’re old enough you join me.”
“Really, really?”
“Really, really.” Bruce assured, chuckling when Amira cheered, getting off of him and deciding to jump around his study in celebration before she gasped. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to tell Grandpa! After all, he helped me pick my name!”
“He picked your name?” Amira nodded, grinning from ear to ear. 
“He said it would be a nice name because I remind him of the small chickadees outside in the garden. Curious and active.” Amira headed for the door, before turning to the door. “But I like the name because it reminded me of when we went watching birds together and tried to make bird calls together.” She gave him a large smile. “I wanna do that again soon!” With that she left the room, heading to the kitchen where Alfred was surely awaiting her.
Meanwhile, Bruce lifted the drawing up, smiling as he kept staring at it. Opening up a drawer, Bruce placed the drawing alongside the other drawings Amira had made throughout her life. When he tried to close it, he noticed the drawing stick out.
“I think I’m going to have to store them elsewhere…”
-
“Amira, are you sure you’re alright?” Wally whispered to her, Amira finally snapping from her thoughts.
“Yeah…I’m fine.” She looked down at the doll, her mind suddenly remembering her old Batman plush she last saw in the manor. “Just feeling a bit nostalgic.”
“Hey, whose gift is this? It’s the only one left under the tree.” Nino asked, holding up a small gift, everyone wondering who it was for.  “There’s no name on it.”
“Oh, that’s for everyone.” Marinette quickly chirped, placing Chickadee to the side, quickly jogging up to Nino and opened up the box. “I got these bracelets for you guys.” The others quickly gathered around here, Marinette feeling her heart soar when she heard Chloe and Sabrina gasp when she opened the box open. 
“Oh my, Marinette! They’re so pretty!” Sabrina cooed, her eyes following the bracelet Marinette lifted from the box and placed into her hands.
“Is that my name?” Nino asked in amazement when Marinette placed a different bracelet into his hands, feeling the weight the small box in his hand had. He couldn’t take his off the gleaming polished silver laying in his hands.
“Mine has my name too!” Adrien squealed when he got his, quickly taking it out the box and looped it around his wrist. “Chlo, help me put it on!”
“Adrikins, give me a moment! I’m still putting on my own!” Chloe panicked as she almost dropped her bracelet.
“Chloe, look! We all got matching items!” Sabrina squealed, trying her best to not tackle the girl.
Marinette watched as the friends put the bracelets on, showing them off to each other. “Seems like they like it.” She told herself, feeling something slip around her wrist.
“You have to wear yours as well māomāo.“ Selina told her, clasping a matching bracelet. “It suits you nicely.”
“I would’ve gotten a rose gold one, but I like the silver one better.” Amira told her, looking at the tiny chain around her wrist, the three small diamond “beads” twinkling in delight. “Also, the rose gold suits Sabrina while the pure gold one suits Chloe. I’m glad the boys like their bracelets; I didn’t think they’d like the ID bracelets that much to be completely honest.”
The ringing of a phone cut the excitement, everyone taking out their phones to see who was receiving a call.
“Oh, it’s my mom.” “Dad?” “Hmph.” Nino, Adrien and Chloe said at the same time, each going to different corners of the room to answer the phone. 
After a while, each of them said their goodbyes on the phones before turning back to the rest.
“I have to go.” The three of them said in unison.
“My dad just texted me when I’m coming back home.” Sabrina sheepishly added. 
“I guess is had been a few hours since you’ve 
“How am I going to take this home?” Nino wondered as he watched the rest easily pick up their gifts.
“We can send it over kiddo.” Dick popped out of nowhere. “Don’t worry about it!”
“Ahhh thank you again Marinette!” Sabrina thanked, squeezing Marinette. “I’ll cherish this forever!”
“We have to do this again.” Adrien vowed.
“That we do.” Marinette agreed. “We should get Kagami to join us as well.”
“Maybe we should invite the others as well.” Wally suggested, Marinette clearly knowing who he was referring to.
“Only if they promise to be on their best behaviors.”
One by one, the friends bid their goodbyes, Marinette waving them goodbye as Adrien and Chloe got into a car and drove away. As for Sabrina and Nino, Selina offered to drop them at their homes, Dick promising Marinette that he will make sure Selina doesn’t try to speed through the city and scare her friends.
With just her and Wally left at the apartment, there was only one last thing to deal with.
“I’ll be right here if anything happens.” Wally reminded Amira as she walked up the stairs that led to her bedroom.
“I know.”
-
She really didn’t know anything about Marinette, now did she?
Upon entering the room, Alya wondered how much the others knew about Marinette. 
Did they know this much about her while she knew nothing?
While the room looked small, there were so many items that laid around that cleared showed her interests. 
Starting off with the gifts she got today. 
A brand new duffel bag from Kagami (the girl had given Adrien the responsibility of handing it Marinette for her), a set of gouache paints from Adrien, an assortment of hair accessories from Sabrina, some roller skates from Nino, a designer leather jacket from Chloe and lastly, the hairless cat sleeping by the window sill. 
Alya knew Marinette was into fencing since she was there when she first started the sport at their school, but she didn’t know she was into art and fashion.
She didn’t take Marinette to be an art person to be honest. 
Definitely took her for an academic, the small bookcase with workbooks justifying her assumption. 
Diagonally, there was a bean bag sitting next to a makeshift work area, monitors displaying different charts of who knows what on one side while the other had pieces of electronics scattered about. 
A cork board barely peaked from behind the clutter of lamps and circuit boards, diagrams and blueprints pinned carefully onto it. 
Small stacks of notebooks could also be seen laying around the desk, an array of post it notes scattered about to add to the chaos. 
Right above the desk was Marinette’s bed, plain beige sheets and few pillows could barely be seen from where Alya stood. And if she tippy toed just a bit, she could barely make out the corner of what she believed to be another cork board. 
To her right, there was the entrance of what seemed to be another room, but judging from the curtains hanging by the doorway and a small ottoman next to a full length mirror, Alya assumed it to be a walk-in closet. 
Right outside the closet was a whiteboard, half of it having a to-do list and covered with reminders on post-it notes. 
Speaking of boards, Alya couldn’t help but realize the odd number of them in the room. There was a cork board by the bed, one by the desks, the white board in front of her and then another she saw as soon as she entered the room. 
Wasn’t four boards too much? 
Then again, Marinette was a bit over the top with her organization. 
“Ten minutes, just like I promised.” Marinette said, making Alya jump. “So what brings you here, Alya?” 
Alya watched as Marinette nonchalantly sat by her desk, shutting a journal closed. “I’m pretty sure you’re not here to wish me a me-”
“Just what am I to you, Marinette?” Alya quickly blurted out. 
“What?”
“What am I to you?” Alya asked, biting her tongue to keep herself calm. “I came here because I wanted to apologize to you for not visiting you. To apologize for being a terrible friend, only to see you happily spending time with,” Alya motioned to the hatch, trying to point at it only to end up with a balled fist. “I thought I was your friend!”
Alya hated that Marinette didn’t react to anything she’s said so far. She hated that she kept sitting there, just staring at her. “I thought I knew you the most compared to them but, they’re here while I’m not. 
You told me that you weren’t doing anything this Christmas or rather over winter break and yet I come here and see you do just that?” Oh god, Alya could feel her gut twist. “Why didn’t you say you were doing something? Why didn’t you invite me?
I would’ve come!” Alya exclaimed, feeling her throat grow dry. Marinette simply stared back at her, which made Alya start to finally tear up. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!”
“I was waiting for you to finish.” Marinette simply answered back. “So, are you?”
“What kind of person says that?! What kind of fr-“
“Are you?” She asked again. She took Alya’s angry silence as a yes. “I didn’t invite you because it wasn’t my idea to host a party at the-my residence.” She corrected herself. “Adrien had originally hosted it at his place but after last night's incident, they decided-“
“Last night?” Alya asked, only then noticing the bandage on Marinette’s hand and the bandage across her face. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? “What happened last-“
“I got kidnapped.” Marinette bluntly stated, as if it were the most common thing in the world. 
“What?”
“I got kidnapped on my way to Adrien’s. Thankfully, thanks to Selina and the rest of her family, I-“
“Are you okay? What about your parents? Are-”
“My parents weren’t here when it happened. They had gone to China to visit family for the holidays. And before you say anything, I wanted to stay behind to spend time with my friends rather than go overseas to a place I’m not familiar with and most definitely spend time with people I do not know. Because of that, Selina offered to look after me and is blaming herself for letting me get kidnapped.” Marinette clenched her hand. “She shouldn’t feel that way. She didn’t know that would happen…”
A silence filled the room, Alya wondering what to say, what to ask. Because, what the hell? She can’t take back what she said, she wouldn’t have said that if she knew that Marinette had been abduct- “So, what’s the real reason you’re here Alya?”
There was that question again… 
“I came because I wanted to apolo-”
“If you were truly here to apologize, then it would’ve been the first thing you would’ve done upon seeing me. 
But you didn’t. Instead, for some reason, you decided to lash out on me about a party I did not organize and therefore did not invite you to.
If apologizing was what you came for, you wouldn’t have brought up your anger of being left out…it were as if apologizing was a secondary excuse and not the prime reason for you being here. 
So tell me, what was the actual reason you decided to come today to see me?”
Right…that’s another reason why Alya slightly hated Marinette when she first met her. For some reason, she was able to see right through you…and she really hated that…
“You were right about Lila.” Alya confessed. “I dug up everything I could about her and you were right. She was lying about everything. The majority of the so-called things she supposedly did while traveling, she never did any of them! She never met Prince Ali, she doesn’t know any celebrities personally, she was never in Gotham. Mari, she couldn’t even tell me the name of the person who donated the most for the new charity. Lila-”
“You wanted to talk to me about Lila?” Marinette concluded, causing Alya to freeze. “You came here, today to talk about-”
“At first, yes. Yes, that’s why I can but then I realized how horrible of a friend I was.” Alya grabbed Marinette’s hands, “I…I’m sorry for never asking you how you were, for not once checking on when you needed me the most! After all, what kind of best friend-”
“Best friend?” Alya didn’t expect Marinette to let out a small laugh, or rather, a scoff. “Alya, we may be friends, but, truth be told…I don’t think we know each other that well to call us ‘best friends.’
“I know that now; when I stepped into your room, I realized there was still so much I don’t know about you. But even so, I-“
“Alya you said it yourself; you never once checked up on me after the whole Banshee incident…it's been well over two weeks since then - it’s almost the end of the month, Alya. I turned into Banshee almost a month ago…
Where were you during all of this?”
“Marinette…I-” Marinette shook her head, prompting Alya to keep quiet. But she didn’t. “You opened my eyes…about a lot of things. 
But more than anything…you made me realize that everything isn’t what it seems to be…”
“Just like I’ve told you before.”
“And while you made me realize that Lila’s words were lies… what about yours?”
Marinette stared at Alya, her gut starting to churn uncomfortably. 
“What do you-“
“You said Jason died almost a year back and yet…he’s downstairs. A-and I know you’re not someone who would just lie- my god Marinette! You’re the most blunt person I know! You always say what’s on your mind, the truth, the obvious! So I never doubted the words you said while you screamed at Lila that day, because I didn’t have to be somebody close to know to recognize the pain in your words, the agony in them as you defended Jason…but then…
As I search up on the different events Lila claimed to have done or gone to, I find out…that Jason is alive?”
Oh…oh…
“Alya- I- I don’t know how-“
“And then to top it off, while researching about last month’s gala, turns out Jason had prepared a video explaining the creation of the latest found-“
“Video?” Marinette asked Alya, taking her by surprise. “What video?”
“The video? You know, the one where-“
“Show me this video. Please.” 
Alya started to type up something in the search bar, pressing enter that loaded a few videos to choose from. 
Clicking the first one, it showed a teen posting about the gala, Amira watching as the teen vlogging their adventure around the ballroom. She watched as Alya scrubbed through the video, the screen going dim for a while as a screen projector started to play a video. 
A video of Jason greeting the guests and explaining the purpose of the Catherine Todd Foundation. 
She watched as Jason spoke with pride, watching as she bid the audience goodbye with a large smile on his face…
“Marinette…are you okay?” Alya asked, her eyes darting from Marinette to the now black screen. 
A laugh escaped Marinette, which then turned into full on laughter. 
“Marinette?” Marinette noticed the fear in Alya’s eyes, how Alya was ready to sprint if necessary. 
“Is that fear I see?” Marinette started to settle down, stepping away from Alya. “Of course you’re terrified of me…after all, who wouldn’t be terrified of the girl who became one of the biggest threats to Paris since Hawkmoth first appeared?
“Marinette…what are you talking about? I’m not afra-“
“You are. Or rather, everyone is. Banshee…she’s the worst thing Hawkmoth has ever created and that’s not going to leave anyone’s mind any time soon…”
“What? Marinette, Banshee-“
“-wasn’t me? Of course it was. I was her while she was me…
Banshee was an extension of my feelings at that time and…I don’t blame the people for fearing that girl…”
“Marinette, no one knows it was you. You-“
“But the damage has been done.” Alya watched as Marinette pulled up various online articles and forums on her computer, each one having the same subject in their headliners: Banshee. 
Every article had different blurry pictures of her akumatized form from different angles, different locations. Some had clearer images of what seemed to be Marinette surrounded by the Parisian vigilantes while others had videos of the streets of Paris covered in fog with a single white figure walking through the scene. “The whole world knows how dangerous Paris has become…and it’s all my fault.”
“I- Didn’t…how?” Alya stuttered, watching other cities and nations' reactions to the akuma situation, watching how they were quick to demonize Marinette, or rather Banshee, without knowing the full situation. “Isn’t the identity-”
“-Of the Victim supposed to be protected from society? The videos from the akuma attack are supposed to be limited to that of just Paris?” Marinette completed, looking back at the screen in front of her. “I thought so too…but from what my lawyers told me, it seems that when Banshee appeared, there also happened to be some sort of security breach of the city’s internet that allowed all of these photos and videos to be posted without the government’s consent. 
So while my identity hasn’t exactly been exposed to the world, some people in the city of Paris do. 
Who exactly, that I’m not sure about. But for the time being, my lawyers said I should prevent myself from going outside for the next few months while the situation gets sorted out…”
“A security breach…” Alya repeated to herself, watching as Marinette kept staring at the screen. “Is this…is this your first time seeing yourself-” Marinette nodded her head.
“To think I did all of this…” Alya watched as Marinette continued to stare at the screen. “I don’t even remember half of this…”
Remember…remember?
“Marinette…” Should she really ask her? “What do you mean by that? You…remember what happened while you were akumatized?” Alya never saw Marinette whip her head so fast. 
“I-I didn’t,” Marinette eyed the hatch, quickly going to open it when Alya stepped on the door, the hatch shutting with a loud thud. 
“Marinette…you remember your akumatization, don’t you?”
Marinette remained silent. “Marinette, please. Just tell me the truth. Do you  remember everything that happened while you were akumatized?” 
Marinette’s silence told her everything, Alya holding her hands gently. “You do, don’t you?”
Marinette’s squeeze told her everything. “Does Chloe-“
“Chloe doesn’t know.” Marinette answered quicker than what she wanted to. “Nor does Adrien. Nor any of the others… I…I don’t want to burden them…”
“Marinette. While you were with your therapist, didn’t they tell you anything about-“
“My therapist was supposed to know what to do in this situation?”
“Yes! That’s the whole reason why attending each session is important-“ Marinette’s frantic eyes made her stop. “You…you are going to therapy…aren’t you?”
“Alya.” Marinette distantly spoke, letting go of her hands. “I-I…Alya. I don’t…
What- I don’t know what to do.” 
“Marinette.”
“It’s been days since I’ve been seeing a therapist and yet…I can’t bring myself to tell them what I need to say. What I want to say. 
Everything- I wish I could say what I want to but just- argh!” Marinette let out a mixture of a growl, a sigh and a huff though Alya really didn’t know what to make of it. “Why can’t I just forget it all? I don’t want to remember this at all! I wish it never happened!”
“But it happened, and we just…we just got to power through it.”
“Like you did when you became LadyWifi?”
“Exactly. Sometimes, sometimes I wish I at least remembered doing some of the things I did. 
It’s hard to believe otherwise that it was indeed me. 
Having to go to therapy and finding out about the trouble you did…it was as if I was going to court for a crime I didn’t know happened.” Marinette didn’t know what came over her, but she brought Alya into a hug before pushing herself when she realized what she did.
“About earlier,” Marinette fumbled. “I don’t think I would consider you my best friend, but…you're definitely a friend. What type of friend, I don’t know but just know that-“
“I’m okay with that.” Alya cut her off, giving her a smile. “I just have to work my way to being your close friend one day.” She opened up the hatch, ready to leave. 
“Alya!”
“Yes?”
“Would you like some pastries?” Marinette asked, pink dusting her cheeks. “I still have left over from yesterday and I don’t think I can finish-”
“Sure thing!”
-
After giving Alya some leftover pastries from the bakery, Amira had one last friend to send off home.
“Get there safely.” Amira softly said, handing Wally over his bag. 
“You can come as well, you know.” Wally offered. 
“You should spend New Years with your family. After all, you haven’t seen them in a while.” She encouraged. “Besides, we always have the zeta tubes to see one another. They don’t.”
Wally huffed, looking at the phone booth before looking back at Amira. 
“I can always see them after the New Years.” He said as he held onto her hand. “I can still-“
“Wally. I’ll be fine.” She tried to say in a steady tone, only for her voice to tremble towards the end. 
“Amira, you know…just say the word and I’ll-”
“I know.” Amira tried to say with a smile. “But I can’t keep you from your family any longer than I already have.” 
“Amira, I can-”
“It’s going to be alright…I’ve got my team to help.” She reassured. “My dad is also here if anything goes wrong.” Wally frowned at that. “Wally, I’ll be fine, really.” He sighed.
“Promise me you’ll call me if anything-”
“I will.” The two stared at each other before Wally gave her one last hug. 
“Seriously. I’m just a call away, okay?” He felt her nod, finally letting go of her. “I’ll see you when you take down the big man, okay?”
Amira smiled as they waved each other goodbye, watching as Wally entered the phone booth and closed the door behind him. 
A slight glow emitted from the booth, signaling Wally’s departure, Amira letting her smile drop.
“I don’t think I can hold up to that Wally.” Amira let out a dry laugh. “How can I defeat Hawkmoth when I no longer have possession of the earrings?”
-
It was already 9 in the morning, Damian finding himself wondering what to do. He had already spent most of the early morning watching surveillance footage of the last place his father was seen entering, which honestly was a waste of time. Ever since his father entered the bakery, he hasn't walked out. 
He was starting to get annoyed with having nothing to do. Sitting in front of the Batcomputer was starting to become draining.
“Master Damian,” Alfred spoke up, Damian turning a bit to see Alfred standing right beside him. 
“Pennyworth.” 
“I believe it would do you some good to exercise your body for a bit.” Alfred suggested, setting down a single cup of tea.
“I don’t believe I asked for-”
“I took it upon myself to also create a simple layout of the mansion.” Alfred took out a folded sheet of paper. “If you choose to explore it to your heart’s content as a choice of stretching the body. After all, you have the run of the mansion and sitting at the computer is not good for a growing boy such as yourself.”
Damian eyed the paper, deciding to take Alfred’s offer and ignore the insult.
“I guess I will explore the mansion for a bit.” Damian concluded, getting up from the chair and taking the paper from Alfred. He opened the paper up, exposing three floors worth of blueprint layout of the mansion. While glossing over the maps, Damian couldn’t help but get intrigued by the archive room on the first floor. “Perhaps I shall wallow into my father’s family history.”
With that, Damian walked away from the Batcave, hoping to entertain himself by learning his past.
“Happy hunting, Master Damian.”
-
Amira quietly shut the door behind herself, letting out a sigh she didn’t know she was keeping in for a while. 
She could hear the chatter of the boys playing in the living room, laughing when she heard Jason curse at Dick for throwing a turtle shell at him.
If Dick was back, then Selina also had to be back…
“He’s finally back.” She told herself, feeling something rise to her throat. Without another moment, she raced to her room, feeling the tears already falling down her face.
She quickly wiped them away with each one that fell, trying to regulate her breathing as she did so. 
With a final deep breath, she found herself with a clear head, noticing she was sitting at her desk, her mother’s envelope peering from underneath a book. 
Just as she lifted it up, her father decided to check on her.
“Can I-” Amira hesitantly nodded, motioning him to join her. “What do you have there?” Bruce watched as she hesitated to speak.
“Talia gave it to me.” She watched as fear crawled into his eyes, watching as he grabbed her shoulders with an immense grip.
“What did she say to you?”
“N-nothing much.” Amira winced, feeling her father’s grip get stronger. “You’re hurting me.” Bruce quickly let go of his daughter, bringing his hands back to side.
“I’m sorry. I-Just…She should’ve just talked to me first. She knows she could-”
“Whether it was yesterday or some other day, she would’ve found me at some other time.” Amira lifted the wax seal from the envelope, wondering what her mother could’ve left behind. “And, well…she gave it to Wally once they found her location after she basically kidnapped m-”
She didn’t expect her father to basically tackle her, pulling her into his embrace. She tried to wriggle herself away from his hold only for him to hold on tighter. “Let go.” 
He didn’t. “Let go.”
He didn’t budge. “Dad! Let go! Please!” Amira had to push herself off of him, her eyes growing wide when she saw his face. “You’re crying…” 
She never saw tears on her father’s face before. As in, falling down his face- because tearing up, yeah he has done that before, but literally crying? 
Never.
“Ah, sorry. I-” Bruce tried to apologize, but it was as if he spoke some secret code that caused more tears to pour out. “Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you that.” Amira corrected, deciding to sit back down instead of approaching him. 
Silence filled the room, Amira wondering what to do. Should she try and ask him if he was alright? Coax an answer as to why he was-
“I should’ve been there for you. I never should’ve left for the gala. I should’ve stayed. You were in danger and I just-”
“Dad, please. Calm-”
“Did she plan this? Was Ra’s visit to the manor also-”
“Mother didn’t know about-”
“Did she do anything to you? Did she offer you-”
“Dad!” Amira cried, panicking as she saw her father spiral down his thoughts, wondering if she should call Selina or try and do something herself. “Dad, please!”
“Ra’s. He probably-”
“Dad, please! Can you hear me?” 
“He knew. He knew where you were all this time. That piece of-”
“Dad! Look at me! Please!” Amira begged, holding her father’s face between her hands, hoping that he would see her. “Please, just look at me.”
She watched as his eyes started to clear up, watching as more tears pooled. He quickly turned away from her. “Dad?”
“I failed you.”
“What?”
“I failed you…” he said a bit louder than before, now looking at her. “I told myself, promised myself that I would protect you no matter what, that I would do whatever it would take to keep you safe…instead, I’ve done anything but that.
Even with all the tools at my disposal, I couldn’t keep you safe while under my watch…”
The room went silent.
“Ever since I was a child,” Amira started, trying her best to be mindful of her next words, “you’ve always told me to always be on my guard, on the lookout for any suspicious thing. 
You’ve taught me to be wary of strangers since I was four. To read a situation when I was five. We created safe codes for each other when I was six. When you let me join your training sessions with Dick, you’ve taught me basic self defense…
You did your best in training me to defend myself. I-”
“But it wasn’t enough.” Bruce almost yelled. “You got kidnapped…twice already and then got into an altercation with Slade just-”
“But that wasn’t your fault. No one-”
“I could’ve prevented it if I had more eyes-”
“More eyes doesn’t always guarantee-”
“Amira, you could’ve lost you today.” Bruce bluntly stated, Amira not realizing that her father was holding her hands, noticing how they shaked. 
Or maybe…maybe it was her hands that were the ones that were shaking. “And it would’ve been all my fault…my fault that I let someone close to me die again…my fault for allowing my one and only daughter to die within my arm’s reach…and that would’ve been more terrifying than anything else in the world…
Not even my own death would atone for that…
Amira…losing you, leaving you has been my greatest fear since you were brought into my life.” Bruce confessed. “I don’t ever want you to suffer as I did as a child, to be left by yourself at some of the most important times of your life…
That is why I’ve always tried to keep you within my reach…to keep you safe…
I don’t ever want you to become a target by just simply being my daughter…
I just want to let you live your life with no worries…as any child should…as is your right…”
Amira simply stood there, processing all the information her father just told her, connecting the newly given information with everything she knew about her father’s past as well as her mother’s past…everything behind her father’s choice made sense…and yet…
“Don’t you think I should’ve had a say on those things as well?”
“What do you mean by that?” Amira opened her mouth to speak only to close it again. “Amira, just say it. I won’t-”
“Shouldn’t I at least have been given the chance to say how I want to live my childhood? To use my name as that- my name?
Yes, I know that our last name is a giveaway; that it would make me a bigger target. But why couldn’t I still use my name: Amira? Why did you choose to call me Marinette?
Why couldn’t I be ‘Amira?’
I grew up knowing that I was ‘Amira Wayne,’ that I was the sole daughter of the Bruce Wayne. That I was ‘Amira.’ But then ‘Marinette Dupain’ came along and that’s who I had to become for everyone else except for you, Grandpere and Dick. 
Jason…he met me as Marinette and then Amira but even then!
I never felt like Marinette. And even though I didn’t feel like ‘Marinette,’ I don’t feel like ‘Amira’ either. Especially now that I finally met my birth mother…someone who you rarely talked about and I should’ve known about!
I could’ve cared less about Ra’s Al Ghul, but Talia? The woman who risked her life to have me? Who risked her life to bring me to you?
Don’t you think I deserved to know about her? Or at least know her name?”
Amira watched as her father wiped away a tear from her face.
“I know now that I shouldn’t have.” Bruce confessed. “I should’ve never kept her away from you, I should’ve told you about the one of the most amazing women I had the pleasure to meet.
Perhaps if I had told you the stories of our adventures while in the League of Assassins, you would’ve seen the same smart young lady I see in you today.”
“So tell me then, Dad. Tell me about the woman named Talia.”
“I think we should do that some other time, not now.” Bruce looked at the envelope that rested on the desk. “For now, you should probably read the letter Talia left for you, don’t you think?”
-
Damian pocketed the needle back into its place as he pulled the archive room door open, surprised to see that there wasn’t a speck of dust in the room.
“Seems like Pennyworth is really worth his salt.” 
As Damian quickly toured the room, at moments stopping to pick up a book or item that caught his attention. Sadly, it piqued his curiosity for a moment only to realize it wasn’t something worth reading or observing any further.
It wasn’t until he was about to leave when he noticed a tarp from the corner of his eye.
The canvas tarp barely peaked from behind a few stacked boxes located at the corner of the room, Damian carefully moving the boxes to get to the tarp.
Realizing he couldn’t exactly just move the covered item to the center of the room, Damian decided to then and there reveal the item.
The portrait he saw wasn’t something he was familiar and yet…
-
After a bit of coaxing from her father and an agreement for him to tell her his side of how he met her mother, Amira finally decided to listen to her father and open the envelope.
“You don’t have to share with me that’s inside…I just want to be here if you need me for anything.” Bruce assured, remaining where he was seated. 
She opened it up, wondering if what she saw was indeed what she thought it was. 
“She gave me a credit card and a set of coordinates with a date.” Amira told her father, showing him the black card and the piece of paper with the date and location. “My dearest Amira, I know this won’t make up for the time we’ve lost with one another, however, I hope my most prized possessions can help you find some answers you were looking for during the years we were apart.
If my possessions do not hold the answers you’ve been looking for, always know that I am more than happy to answer them directly if you ever wish to know. 
With that, stay safe and know that I will always hold you close to my heart, baobei. 
With love, Talia.” Amira softly ended, finding herself dragging her finger over her mother’s name.
Without another second to lose, Amira got up to look for the box Wally showed her earlier, lifting it and setting it onto her desk.
Carefully unwrapping it, Amira didn’t expect to see a photo album sitting inside the box. Lifting it out the box, Amira opened up the album, not believing her eyes.
“Is this me?” She asked ever so softly, continuing to turn page after page, filled with baby photos of herself from when she was born to the last day she was with her mother.
When she got to the last page, Amira froze.
There, centered in the middle of the back of the album was one of those photos you’d place in a wallet.
A photo that couldn’t be any bigger than five centimeters in height and yet…
“I can’t believe she still has it despite its condition.” Her father commented, making Amira turn to him, taken aback at the softness of his eyes. “We took this picture years ago.”
The tiny photo was crumpled up, its edges worn and even had creases right down the middle along both lengths, the paper starting to break from all the folding. “We took this picture the day you came to the manor.”
-
“Take care of her.” Talia told Bruce as she cupped his face with a hand, bringing herself closer to him and giving him a kiss. “Goodbye, habibi.” 
Bruce watched as she took in a shaky breath before promptly turning away and headed for the door. 
“Talia.” He barely croaked out, but she kept walking away. 
“Talia. Wait.” Bruce warbled a bit louder, grasping her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, her back still turned towards him. “Stay. Stay for a while.”
“Bruce.” Talia said with a breath, not daring to open her eyes. She needed to go. Now. “I have to-“
“Just for a few hours.” He gave her hand a firm squeeze, which in turn squeezed her heart. 
‘Please don’t do this to me Bruce.’
“Please.” He begged of her. 
‘Don’t make me do something that will cause our daughter harm.’ 
‘Please.’
Amira’s cooing snapped Talia from her turmoil, finally turning and making eye contact with her daughter. 
Amira smiled and gurgled upon seeing her mother, stretching out her hands in hopes of getting held, not comprehending the tears that streamed down her mother’s face. 
Giving into her heart, Talia took Amira into her arms, holding her tightly against her chest, Amira giggling upon successfully getting into her mother’s embrace. 
“Just…just a few more hours. Just a few more.” Talia agreed, walking up to Bruce, resting her head on his chest. “I want to relish these last hours together...this time we are together…as a family...”
“As do I.” Bruce replied, hugging Talia and in turn, hugging Amira. “But, there’s something else I want to do as well.” Talia looked at her Beloved, wondering what his next words would be. 
As if to answer, a knock came at the door, followed by a gentleman walking in with a large case in his hand. 
“Master Bruce. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
“Sam. Hello and I apologize for the short notice.” The elderly man chuckled, Talia’s “How did you manage to get him?” getting ignored.
“You know nothing is ever short noticed with you. There’s always a good reason for these types of things.” With that, Bruce smiles. 
“Sam, I’d like for you to meet Talia...and my daughter.” Sam gawked at Bruce, his head turning as he looked at Bruce and then at Talia before his eyes landed in Amira.  
Letting out a hearty laugh, Sam patted Bruce’s shoulder. 
“Consider this session on the house! Let me get the camera set and I’ll call you when we can start!” Sam grinned as he walked out the room, heading to the portrait room. 
“Camera?” Talía asked, Amira reaching out for her mother’s hand. 
“I know it’s sudden. And I know that the future is unsure, but,” he pressed his forehead against Talia’s, looking down at their daughter. “I want this moment to live on forever, even if it’s in the form of a photo.”
It took a while for those words to sink in, but when they did, Talia couldn’t help but let out a laugh, her eyes stinging as she held onto Amira for dear life and held Bruce’s hand tightly, afraid this blissful moment  might disappear if she let go of either of them. 
“Alright Mr.Wayne!” Sam popped in a few moments later, graphite smeared on the side of his hand. “We can start the photo session!”
-
Damian could only stare at the portrait staring straight back at him, looking at the three subjects of the incomplete painting, a single photo taped to the side as a reference of what the complete portrait was supposed to look like. 
At the right center, he could clearly identify his father, looking extremely young, his hair lacking a single gray hair and not a single wrinkle near his eyes. His eyes…they had a shine to them that Damian couldn’t exactly pinpoint an emotion to, eyes that bore something in them as they looked at the other two subjects of the painting. There was his sister, who had to be roughly half a year old, judging from the clothing she was wearing and the roundness of her cheeks. She had a huge smile, a smile Damian wondered if her current self was capable of the same thing. And then there was the person that held his sister with gentle arms, a person that Father held close to him with a smile.
Her skin reminded him of his sister’s and his own, her smile…a smile he saw only once on Ra’s years ago…but…
“Who are you?”
-
Alya grinned, humming as she walked back home. She also couldn’t help but notice the lightness in her steps, the skips adding to the euphoria. 
Maybe it was because she got some homemade cookies from Marinette. Maybe it was because she made up with Marinette. Or perhaps she was finally able to talk to someone else aside from her therapist about her akuma-
Akumatization…
How did she know?
How did she know-
Alya snapped from her trance, realizing she had already closed the apartment door behind her. That she was already home. 
But the question remained. 
How did she know about her akumatization? 
Alya let go of the bag, the cakes and macarons inside meeting the floor with a loud thud. 
Alya dashed for her room, ignoring the yells she got from Nora about no shoes inside the house. 
She stripped her coat off of her, flinging her hat and scarf to the side. 
She quickly got into her chair, turning on her laptop as she kicked her boots off. She muttered under her breath as she clicked on the mouse as if that would make the laptop boot up any faster. 
Once loaded, Alya started to put it to work, quickly opening windows and tabs, the clicking and clacking of her keyboard and mouse filling her room. 
She adjusted her glasses as she scrolled and dragged between articles and her spreadsheet, skimming through the paragraphs of words that didn’t have a smidge of what she was looking for... 
Which exactly answered her question. 
“How did she know I was LadyWifi?” Alya found herself whispering, scanning for any possible answer to her question. 
All that stared back at her was the website of the most reliable blog aside from her own: Beetle and Cat. 
Beetle and Cat was created the same day Ladybird appeared, but unlike Alya’s blog, B&C was more on the informative side. More focused on giving news about the fights and uploading crisp full length videos of every public speech Ladybird had given. 
Articles, on the other hand, Beetle and Cat had all 63 akuma incident reports and 2 programs Ladybird and Chat Noir had done since they’d become the vigilantes of Paris. Sure it was two, but it really impacted the city.
Out of the two programs, the very first is the most important one: the Akumatization Protection Program that-
“They may have the answer.” She muttered to herself, quickly clicking links until she found a hyperlink titled “Know Your Rights to Therapy: Citizens.”
Clicking it, Alya was redirected to a medical website.
“Creations Medical?” Alya asked no one, wondering who would ever call their pharmaceutical branch such an odd name. 
She was met with how to apply for therapy with the assistance of Creations Medical and how to use the Akumatization Protection Program to have your fees waived, even if you weren’t akumatized yourself. 
“Under Section 4 of Article 1 of Protections and Rights of the Manipulated, anyone and everyone involved in any of the incidents created by Hawkmoth are granted therapy. Creations Medical will cover all expenses, including transportation, medication and relocation if needed. 
If you are a civilian that was affected by any previous incident and wish to-”
“What is “Protections and Rights of the Manipulated”?”
Whipping up another tab, Alya typed the document to the search bar, but nothing.
All she got were brief mentions of the article and a summary to its main points and that was it.
That it was the concluded agreements between the vigilantes of Paris and Parliament. But that was all.
No full article, no blurry screenshot or blurry photo, nothing.
So then…does it actually exist?
Alya sat there for a while, wondering what to-
She quickly grabbed her phone and texted Max, mentally scolding herself for asking Max to help her hack into a government document. 
She explained to him her situation, quickly lying that she wanted to use it to update her blog regarding the therapy program but needed full access to the document to give the public an informative page.
She tapped her desk as she waited for an answer, not expecting Max to send a pdf back so quickly along with a ‘you owe me’ as well.
Quickly opening up the pdf, Alya didn’t need to search far for what she needed.
Protections and Right of the Manipulated
Ladybird and Chat Noir vow to protect Paris until the threat is no more, however, the citizens are always a priority before their own.
As so, gathering here today, XX of September of the year XXXX, are Ladybird, Chat Noir and Parliament of Paris to discuss and establish the rights of those who have fallen under the manipulation of the city of Paris’ current threat: Hawkmoth.
Article 1. 
Section 1: 
The vigilantes, Ladybird and Chat Noir, as well as the Parliament of Paris agree to keep the identities of those manipulated by Hawkmoth a secret. 
Through thorough investigation, all citizens who have gone under Hawkmoth’s mind control do not recall any conversations nor actions they have done once Hawkmoth has gone into contact with them and once he leaves the mind of the person controlled. 
Therefore, it was concluded that citizens were being controlled beyond their will and therefore should not be held accountable for the actions. In other words, the citizens are innocent and are victims of Hawkmoth’s criminality. As thus, Victims of Hawkmoth are not the criminals in any of the incidents that have occurred under mind control and their actual identities should not be revealed to the public to protect the citizen.
Not exactly what she needed, but even so, it was something. Scrolling some more, Alya found what she needed.
Article 2.
All citizens who fell under Hawkmoth’s control are protected by the Akumatization Protection Program (APP).  Under this program, the government cannot, under any circumstance, hold a citizen accountable for an incident without the approval of Ladybird and Chat Noir. Nor can the government approach the civilian without either vigilante present. 
Furthermore, the government cannot disclose the name nor picture of the akumatized civilian to any media outlet. Under the case that the government does, the law will be involved. 
This also goes for any identification that has been leaked by any media outlet and any bystander of these incidents.
Any media, bystander or eye witness that has evidence will also be warned of the consequences of revealing any akumatized civilian’s identity and will also be dealt with by the law should a civilian’s identity be revealed.
If there is no bystander or eye witness, the only people who should know the akumatized civilians’ identities and therefore interact with them are Ladybird and Chat Noir, with exceptions to their other team members.
In other words… no regular civilian should know an akumatized civilian’s identity…
Especially for her case…after all…she was by herself when she got akumatized…
So no one should know LadyWifi was her…
No one…besides…
“Besides-” Alya stared at her screen, hating the answer that had unraveled before her. 
She shouldn’t have- she shouldn’t- but she did. 
She knew who did…she knew what this meant…
She knew…she knew something she should’ve never figured out…
“Marinette is Ladybird,” Alya found herself whispering to herself, feeling a lump in her throat. “Marinette is Ladybird…oh god…Marinette is Ladybird…”
Alya held her head in her hands, still trying to process the information. “This isn’t good. Of course it isn’t. When she finds out that I kn- oh god…” Alya felt the blood drain from her face as she recalled the latest akuma…
The akuma where Marinette let out her feelings show… “oh fuck.”
As much as she wanted to tell someone that she knew who was the person behind the mask, Alya didn’t need to be reminded of the dangers of doing that. 
Paris didn’t need another Banshee incident…
Nor another LadyWifi…
Alya stared at her screen, hoping the words on the screen would help her come up with a way to deal with all this. 
“Just what the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
As if on cue, Alya’s phone goes off, making Alya jump in her chair. 
Quickly picking it up, she let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding in, relieved to see that it was just Chloe sending something to the class-
Of course! 
Just as her finger was about to tap Chole’s name, Alya stopped. 
But would she? Would she even try to hold a conversation? There was only one way to find out. 
Alya quickly tapped on Chloe’s number, tapping the call option and bringing her phone next to her ear. 
She waited as the ringing kept going for a few seconds, biting the tip of her thumb’s nail until a click was heard. 
“Cesaire. What do you want? Was not bothering-“
“It’s-It’s a-about Marinette.” Alya could hear Chloe’s breath hitch. “Can we talk?” Alya held her breath as the silence remained on the other end. “Chloe? Are you th-“
“In my room, at the hotel. We can talk there.”
NEXT
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saltwater-and-woodsmoke · 2 years ago
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Stupid Things (Good Outcomes) || JJ Maybank || Two
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Enter Rafe Cameron, stage left.
JJ visits his brothers grave and Rafe Cameron shares some information that he didn’t know about his brother. Back in Los Angeles, Christopher Diaz is a national treasure and calls JJ out for acting weird. Aka, it’s a filler folks!
Sorry for the late update, I haven’t had internet but I wanted to get this out.
Words: 1795
Warnings: gay (or at least bisexual) Rafe my beloved. Christopher Diaz calls his uncle JJ out. Bobby Nash is deciding if he wants to adopt this white boy or not (he does). JJ almost sounds homophobic for .2 seconds sorry
Gravel crunched under the blonde’s feet as he wandered through the cemetery. Realistically, he knew exactly where he was going. Hell, he’d done it so many times in the last twenty three years, it was second nature to him now.
This time, however, he was clutching a bouquet of tulips that he’d actually bought, not a bouquet of the wildflowers he’d picked on his way. Finally, his feet came to a stop and he found himself sitting in a grassy spot, staring at two polished headstones. Well, it was one big one actually but there were two names engraved into it. Two birthdates, two death dates, two people he should have a relationship with but didn’t. One of them he never actually officially met.
Juliette Kate Maybank
October 11, 1980 - April 22, 2002
Tyler Royce Maybank
June 13, 1997 - September 21, 2012
JJ, of course, knew the story of how his mom died. Complications of pregnancy, pre-eclampsia to be precise. His father had always liked to tell him it was his fault that she was gone, and now as an adult, he knew that that wasn’t the case. As a kid however, that had hurt him deeply. He knew now that it could happen to any pregnant woman and it just so happened that it came on fast with his mother, forcing doctors to deliver him nearly two months premature in an attempt to save her life. The effort had been futile, though, because she died two days later at the tender age of twenty one.
And JJ? Well he had spent the first three months of his life in the hospital. Actually, his father almost just left him there (and if JJ was honest about it, as a teenager he wondered if his life would have been better if he had) but strong words from Anna Carrera had made him change his mind.
Despite not getting to know his mother, from the moment he could remember, Tyler Maybank would bring him to the cemetery to leave flowers on her grave on Mother’s Day and her birthday. For the last thirteen years, though, he’d been coming on his brothers birthday as well.
“Hey Ty.” He murmured. “Twenty eight today, huh? I wonder what you’d be like now? Still my annoying older brother, probably. You’d probably be married and have your own kids by now, or would be telling your wife that you didn’t need to have kids because you had me.”
“Would you be proud of me? I think you’re the only one who ever was.”
“He would be. Your mom too.”
The voice took him by surprise and he was suddenly looking up at no other than Rafe Cameron who had his hands shoved into his jeans pockets looking nervous.
He hadn’t actually seen Rafe since they’d gotten back from South America. There’d been rumors that he was in jail, or rehab, but eventually the consensus was that he was hiding out on the cut drugged out of his mind. Of course, Sarah knew the truth, and had only stated that it wasn’t her story to tell.
Rafe’s hair was longer now, and he had the start of a beard, but JJ couldn’t help but notice that he definitely still looked good.
“I didn’t know you were still on the island.” JJ spoke. “You can sit, you know. Just wanted to have a beer with my brother on his birthday.”
“I uh, I haven’t left except for the six months after my dad died.” Rafe spoke, sitting beside him. “I got clean from the coke, started taking online classes and rebuilt Cameron Development with honest work. God, Tyler and I were going to break off from my dad and start our own company. Now look at me, twenty seven, single dad, and still technically working for my dad.”
“Single dad?” JJ raised an eyebrow. “Also, your dad is dead, like for real. I watched him launch himself off a cliff for us. That success is all you now.”
“His name is Jackson, or I just call him Jack.” Rafe told him. “He’s five now. Jackson Tyler Cameron.”
Before JJ could reply though, the older man was standing up and dusting his pants off. “For the record JJ, I started doing coke to get rid of your brother’s memory. It didn’t work. Also, your brother was gay, but he wasn’t out yet, so he would have had a husband and not a wife, and honestly? It probably would have been me.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚ ───
JJ sat quietly, staring at the table in front of him. It was a day off from the academy and everyone had to work, so he’d offered to hang out with Christopher all day, and had brought him to the firehouse to meet up with everyone for dinner after giving him way too much screen time and letting eat way too much sugar.
“You okay JJ?” Mari sat in front of him with a confused look. He glanced up at her and nodded, then looked back down at his hands.
“He’s been weird all day.” The voice belonged to Christopher, making JJ turn to look at him with narrowed eyes.
“Traitor.” JJ’s tone was joking, but Chris just shrugged and continued.
“He’s been quiet and was way too quick to let me play video games all day. But he won’t talk about it, because he likes to act like Dad or something.”
“I’m fine.” JJ confirmed. “And next time I’m not letting Chris win when we play Fortnite.”
“J, you know we aren’t going to judge you.”
“My brother was gay.” He practically blurted out.
“Okay, and? So is mine?” Mariella stared at him. “Wait, you’re not like homophobic or something are you?”
“No, of course not.” JJ half laughed. “I share an ex boyfriend with my ex girlfriend, who is now dating a woman. It just took me by surprise to find that out, y’know?”
“Why did he say was?” It was Hen that spoke this time. “You said your brother was gay not that he is gay.”
“He was gay because I’m talking about him in past tense.” JJ clarified. “As in he’s no longer with us, not on this mortal plane, yeeted himself into the afterlife.”
The medic was quiet as she took in the information he’d just told her. All eyes were on JJ and he was suddenly acutely aware that the Diaz siblings had been the only two that knew about Tyler.
“Uhm, I’m sorry.” She finally spoke. “Is that why you went home three weeks ago?”
“Yeah, Maybank, if you need someone to talk to, I can set you up with the department psychologist. I know you’re not officially a firefighter yet but you’re well on your way.” It was Bobby that spoke that time and JJ was suddenly super uncomfortable.
“No, guys, I’m fine.” He told them. “It was thirteen years ago. I went home three weeks ago to spend some time with my father figure, Heyward. It was also Tyler’s birthday. He would have been twenty eight this year.”
“Thirteen years ago?” Hen spoke. “You were just a kid, JJ.”
“I was ten.” JJ told her. “Tyler was fifteen, he got stuck in a rip current and drowned. My dad was thirty one and buried one of his kids ten years after he buried his wife.”
“So you really only ever had your dad.” Bobby spoke coming to sit with them. “You’re sure okay.”
“I’m fine. My mom died two days after I was born and I was in the NICU for three months so I don’t think she ever actually got to meet me.” JJ confirmed. “My dad was a drunk, and liked to shove his kids around. He got worse after Tyler died, because then all he had was a reminder of his dead wife. He eventually skipped town when I was sixteen, and I almost died like four times before my friend Pope dragged me and Jombee to his house and the Heywards took us in.”
“If you’re sure.” Bobby sighed. “I can’t make you talk to someone but the offer stands.”
“I’m sure.” JJ told him. “I don’t care that my brother was gay, by the way. It just threw me off because I found out he was gay from his ex boyfriend, who is apparently the man that made my life a nightmare growing up. Like my brother was dating the man who framed my best friend for murder and shot his sister.”
“You got out, that’s what’s important.” Mari told him. “What Rafe did to you and your friends was horrible. And you guys didn’t deserve it but you know what? You came out on top because I don’t think Rafe fucking Cameron is sitting on sixty seven million dollars and you are.”
“I’m sorry you’re sitting on how much?” It was the rest of the crew, other than Eddie, that was shocked that time.
“Oh you guys don’t know?” Mari teased. “JJ here is one of the six teenagers who found El Dorado and the Royal Merchant.”
“Once again Mari, the El Dorado thing is a technicality because I didn’t physically see it, only Jombee and Sarah did.”
It was quiet for a moment while the people around him took the information in. He didn’t like to flaunt his wealth, and now everyone in the room knew he was rich, but had decided he wanted to be a firefighter. He could see Bobby looking between him and Buck with a smirk, and it was like a light bulb went on in his head. Buck was also sitting on a shit ton of money and the rest of the crew were seeing their similarities for the first time.
“Okay seriously, what kind of names do your friends have?” Eddie finally spoke, attempting to change the subject. JJ couldn’t help but laugh.
“They’re nicknames.” He explained. “Jombee is actually John B but we’ve always called him
Jombee. His dad was Big John and so he became John B. Pope is also a John. His full name is John Paul, so we call him Pope. But if you want a ridiculous legal name? Sarah’s ex boyfriend. His name is Topper.”
“Topper?”
“Well I don’t care about his friends names.” Buck spoke. “What does JJ stand for?”
“Uh, well. Actually no one on the island actually ever cared enough to find out. I was always JJ to everyone, but legally and on my birth certificate and driver’s license it’s Jesse James.” JJ explained.
“Like the bank robber?”
“Like the bank robber.”
“Okay, JJ is my new best friend.” Buck announced. “We’re going to start a dead brothers club, so Chimney I guess you get to join too.”
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immortalecstasy-blog · 2 years ago
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Ashes To Angels 18+
Chapter 01/31 Pairing: Eddie Munson / Chrissy Cunningam
The last thing Chrissy can remember is bumping into her high school crush, Jason Carver, at a bar. But apparently that was nearly a year ago? She has no memories since then. But it seems like all her dreams have come true. Dream business. Dream body. Dream fiancé.
Except Rockstar Eddie Munson (Yes, that one!) is turning everything into a nightmare – because he seems to think they’ve been seeing one another for the last six months, and if his knowledge of her body is anything to go on… he may just be telling the truth.
What the hell has been going on in the last year?!
Please see AO3 'Additional Tags' for WARNINGS / First 5 Chapters All Available Already on AO3. Chapter One Below Cut
“You look amazing! Stop fussing!”
Chrissy turned from the public bathroom mirror to glare at Barb, who actually did look amazing.
Chrissy had only arrived back in her hometown a few days ago, and this was her first night out in Hawkins in what felt like a million years.
When people spoke about ‘blooming’ in college, they usually weren’t referring to your weight, and though Chrissy had struggled to keep the weight off in high school, it had become impossible once she’d gotten to college and suddenly found herself without the strict diet and exercise regimen that both her mother and the old cheer squad had enforced upon her.
You won’t be able to go on top of the pyramid if you get any bigger.
Well, there was no chance she’d be at the top of the pyramid now. She’d ignored her steady weight gain in her years away from her mother’s watchful gaze, enjoying the unlimited access to junk food and near constant party invitations - but now those extra pounds seemed to weigh a tonne. Hawkins was full of people who had known her as ‘Chrissy the Cheerleader’ not ‘Chrissy the Elephant’.
Chrissy’s expression spoke volumes.
“Chrissy, honestly, you look gorgeous!”
Chrissy pulled her top down self-consciously. Yes, the bright red blouse showed off her ample chest (the one and only upside to the extra weight), and her high waisted black jeans did manage to give her something like an hourglass, a lumpy hourglass. But she felt bloated, and her hair was doing nothing for rounded face, and she already felt too warm and like her make-up was going to melt off.
“Come on!” Nancy called from the door, looking stunning with her red lipstick and her sexy heels.
Barb grabbed Chrissy’s waist and steered her back into the crowded bar. They took over the barstools and Nancy waved down the bartender, who just so happened to be her little brother, Mike. He’d turned twenty-one in April and was as eager as Chrissy and Nancy had been to flee Hawkins. But the pay wasn’t bad and the locals were fair tippers, and so he’d chosen to spend a year working his ass off first. It definitely had nothing to do with his infinite heart-eyes for Jane Hopper.
At least, it didn’t anymore. Nancy and Jane’s step-brother had had a nasty break up only a month before, and Jane had turned a cold shoulder to poor Mike as a result.
“Shots!” Nancy cried, pointing a finger at her brother. He raised his eyebrows, clearly unimpressed with her tone, but dutifully laid out three shot glasses and then waited expectantly.
“Shots!” Nancy demanded.
 Mike looked to Chrissy, clearly hoping for some specifics.
 “Um, tequila?” She suggested, shrugging.
Mike nodded. “Salt and lime?”
“Definitely!”
He nodded again, and in no time at all their drinks were in front of them.
The salt was the most pleasant part, the tequila was the house brand and tasted like petrol and Chrissy had never been a fan of anything sour, so the lime did nothing to kill the rasp in her throat.
“Again!” Nancy demanded, swinging her pointer finger over her head like a lasso.
Mike racked them up again, and Chrissy pointedly stuffed a fistful of notes into the tip jar.
“She’s just… happy to be home.” Chrissy excused.
Mike laughed.  “And you?”
“I’ve been here… three days, maybe? And I already feel like I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Mike smiled grimly, waiting until she’d finished her second tequila chaser before sliding a fruity looking cocktail towards her.
“On the house. Welcome back.”
The cocktail was just what she needed, chasing away the toxic petrol-lime combination with its excessively sweet contents.
Barb and Nancy took Chrissy’s cocktail as a signal to get their own, and the girls migrated to one of the booths against the wall, further away from the speakers and a relieved Mike.  
Nancy and Chrissy didn’t toast to finally being college graduates. Barb didn’t speak much about the years she had been ‘missing’, but since rolling back into town she’d admitted that college education had not been high on her priority list at the time, and neither Chrissy nor Nancy wanted to remind her that their last few years had been very different. But they all toasted to their gang being back together – even if Chrissy’s twin sister was missing – and to being back in Hawkins.
When Nancy returned to annoy her little brother and get them more drinks. Someone sidled up alongside her. Chrissy recognised who it was and her stomach lurched.
It was Jason Carver.
Chrissy had been sweet on him for years but he’d never really spared her a second glance. She had thought she would be over her silly crush on him, but looking at him now, she knew she was still enthralled.
He’d somehow filled out even more since school, and his dazzling white smile was visible all the way from the other side of them room. He was leaning against the bar, looking totally at ease as he engaged Nancy in conversation, and Chrissy felt a flare of jealousy.
She suddenly regretted every decision she had ever made for this evening. The red top, the matching chunky heels, the lipstick. Oh god.
Chrissy abandoned her straw and lifted the remnants of her cocktail to her lips, swallowing it down in one large gulp.
“You okay?” Barb asked.
Chrissy nodded distractedly. “How about you? How are you taking the news?”
“What news?” Barb asked lightly, as if Chrissy could’ve been talking about anything.
“Heather.”
Barb laughed derisively. “Oh. Yeah, no. It… It’s nothing. I mean, it means nothing to me – I’m happy for them.”
Chrissy pursed her lips.
“Uh huh.”
“I am!” Barb insisted, staring desolately into her empty glass, and then boring a hole into the back of Nancy’s head.
When Nancy came back – fuck, fuck, fuck – Jason was with her, helping her carry the drinks. As if Nancy couldn’t have carried three stupid drinks by herself.
“Hey Chris, how you doing?” He asked, setting the cocktail down in front of her and sitting in the booth with them.
Chrissy stared at Nancy in horror, but after an encouraging nod she managed to look at Jason – or at least in his direction – and croak “Yeah – good. Are… I mean, how are you?”
“I’m good!” He answered, throwing his hand around the back of the booth. The closest she would ever get to having those sun-kissed muscular arms around her.
“Yeah,” he continued, “I actually own my own business now. A gym, here in Hawkins.”
“Really?” Chrissy squeaked.
“Yeah. It’s… it’s only a little thing, but I’m hoping to expand. Get a bit of a spa thing going, you know?”
“Sounds amazing.”
Jason grinned, “It will be. I hope.”
“It will.” Chrissy insisted, “You’ve always been—um, I mean, you… you seem like a… you—”
He raised one eyebrow, but he seemed amused by her inability to form sentences, and the kind patience in his eyes gave Chrissy the chance to turn her jumbled thoughts into actual words.
“Sorry – I just mean, you’ve always known what you wanted and gone for it. I’m sure your spa thing will be the same.”
“You think?”
Chrissy nodded empathically.
A song that had been playing on every radio station at every opportunity suddenly came on, and Nancy was dragging Barb up.
“I love this song! Dance with me!”
Nancy and Barb disappeared onto the dance floor, but Jason didn’t vacate the booth for Chrissy to join them. It seemed like all his focus was on her, and she began to feel warm. Not just in-a-club-drinking warm, like, ugly-sweat-bubble-moustache warm.
“What about you? What are you plans now you’ve wrapped up for education? Or are you planning to study some more?”
Chrissy untied her tongue with a few sips of her cocktail, so sweet she could feel the sugar coating her teeth.
“I don’t know yet.” She admitted, trying to sound breezy.
They talked for hours, and Chrissy’s nerves slowly fell away thanks to the alcohol flooding her system and the attentive way Jason seemed to hang on her every word.
He bought her a drink, and then she bought him one, and they just talked. As Chrissy’s tongue loosened she talked more and more. About how she dreamed of owning her own business, how the idea of sitting behind a desk all day sounded like the worst thing in the world.
He talked about mutual acquaintances from school and how they were doing, seemed almost embarrassed when she pushed him for details on his gym.
There was a ruckus somewhere at some point, Chrissy was deaf to it at first, so wrapped up in her conversation with Jason Carver to pay attention to anything else. But then a drink was thrown. It splashed both of them and Jason was immediately on his feet, trying to diffuse the situation as Chrissy finally took in her surroundings.
Jonathan. Nancy’s ex-boyfriend. Jason had him in a headlock.
It was Nancy who had thrown the drink, Jason and Chrissy had just been collateral.
Chrissy didn’t understand at first. The breakup hadn’t been mutual, but Jonathan hadn’t been a dick about it.
“Tell me!” He was shouting. “Tell me how long you’ve been fucking him!”
“Jonathan, stop it!” Nancy screamed, even as Jason restrained him, telling him to calm down, to “Calm down man, just calm down. No need for a scene. C’mon, that’s enough.”
Jonathan sagged and Jason cautiously released him.
“Tell me you weren’t fucking him while we were together.” Jonathan pleaded.
Chrissy looked from the soaking Jonathan to Nancy, who was scowling at him haughtily.
“No.” She answered, her nose up in the air. “I never cheated. I swear.”
Cheated?
Chrissy shook her head. Nancy would never have cheated on Jonathan. Who the hell was he even accusing her of having sex with? Nancy wasn’t having sex with anyone. Chrissy would know if she was.
Jason led Jonathan outside, one hand around his shoulder – firm, but kind.
Chrissy scowled, not thinking for one second he would come back. She had demanded too much of his time already and surely he wanted to be laughing with his friends instead of sitting with the fat girl talking about the pros and cons of cream cheese frosting or how cinnamon belonged in everything.
“Chrissy, are you okay?”
“Are you?” Chrissy asked, turning from watching Jason’s broad shoulders retreating to check in on Nancy.
“I’m fine.” Nancy promised, even though her hands were shaking.
Chrissy picked up a napkin and wiped Nancy’s thrown cocktail from her eyes without thinking, and the napkin came away black with ruined mascara.
“What was he thinking?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Nancy insisted, shaking her head, “Please, I just want to have a girls ni-- Oh Chrissy, I’m so sorry, your make-up…”
“Is it bad?”
Nancy grimaced. Horrified, Chrissy fled to the bathroom. Nancy and Barb hot on her tail to help fix her up as best they could in the bathroom stall.
Her shirt had a big wet stain across the front that they tried to dry under the hand dryer, and while it improved eventually, her shirt was still sticky and gross. Nancy salvaged her make-up but wiped off most of her foundation in the process.
Chrissy almost howled at her reflection, taking in the blotchy pink cheeks and soggy bangs. Glad Jason was gone and couldn’t see her looking such a mess.
“Who did Jonathan think you were sleeping with?” Chrissy asked incredulously when they’d dried and fixed her bangs as best they could.
“It doesn’t matter.” Nancy told her, shaking her head, still fussing with Chrissy’s make up. “He’s just being an idiot.”
When Chrissy was as presentable as she could be without a shower and a change of clothes they exited the bathroom and she walked straight into Jason.
“Are you alright?”
His fringe was tinged pink and dripping cocktail, his white polo shirt more obviously stained than her blessedly red blouse, but he only seemed concerned about her.
“I’m fine! A little sticky, but… fine.”
His face relaxed, “Nance, I take it you’re in need of a fresh drink?”
Chrissy’s heart sank, but as he moved towards the bar his had circled her waist and he took her with him.
“Do you want another drink?” He asked.
“Oh, it’s my round…” Chrissy stammered. But Jason held up a crisp twenty, grinning at her.
“Another cocktail?” He asked.
“I think… maybe a coke?”
He nodded, ordering a cocktail each for Nancy and Barb and then surprising her by ordering two cokes.
“I don’t, um, I don’t want to push in on girls’ night.” He admitted, and Chrissy realised he was trying to find a polite excuse to get away from her.
“Oh, no, yeah. It’s fine. You – um, you go be with your friends…”
“We don’t mind.” Barb interrupted from his other side, sucking up her cocktail at alarming speed.
“Are you sure?” Jason asked. Chrissy was about to make excuses for him but then he turned back to her, “Do you mind? Could I steal you a bit longer?”
“Okay!”
“Yeah?”
Chrissy nodded enthusiastically, almost dropping her coke when he took her hand to lead her back through the crowd of dancing revellers back to the booth.
“Um, where were we?” He laughed, dabbing at his forehead with a napkin as the cocktail continued to drip into his eyes.
Chrissy laughed, taking the napkin from him, and squeezing the worst of it out of his hair.
“Um, I think… cinnamon?”
Jason laughed, going cross-eyed as he watched her work.
“Yeah. Yeah! So, and I mean don’t get me wrong – cinnamon is heaven. But, chocolate. I still remember that chocolate fudge cake you made in home ec.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it was… man, it was the best cake I’ve ever tasted.”
“You remember?” Chrissy asked, her hand falling away from his hair.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t think you’d even remember me.”
“Of course I’d remember you.”
“Chrissy – the bars closing. Are you coming?”
Chrissy looked up. The bar was almost empty, Mike was already swinging the barstools onto the bar to mop the floor.
Jason started, looking around him in surprise, sliding out of the booth so Chrissy could get up.
Their chests brushed as she scooted to her feet, amazed at how much taller he was even in her heels.
“Did you, maybe… um…” he began.
“Come on! Move!” A member of staff shouted from the exit.
“Jace! C’mon dude!” One of Jason’s friends shouted out.
“Uh.” Jason ran his hand through his hair, pulling his hand away with a frown as it got coated in sticky remnants of cocktail. “When are you out next? I’d love to buy you a drink again some time.”
“Um, I’m… I’m not sure… um, probably, I mean, normally—” Chrissy started.
“Next weekend.” Barb told him confidently. “Saturday.”
Jason grinned at Chrissy as if she had answered.
“Okay, I’ll see you Saturday then, yeah?”
Chrissy had nodded enthusiastically, but then they’d both been pulled apart by their respective parties as they exited the club. She’d tried to twist her head around to watch him as he and his group left in the opposite direction, but Nancy pulled at her arm.
“Don’t look back. He’s watching you.” Barb explained.
“Stay cool, Chris.” Nancy agreed, dragging her away.
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savingthrcw · 6 months ago
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"I was searchin' for you"
That won him a smile - it was weird, to actually smile, not just a little tug at the corner of her lips signaling she found something incredibly funny or endearing, like with her dogs. Weird also to think that she could still feel like a kid, when she hadn't been one ever since she had realized her mother had killed her father-almost, almost killed him.
"You were a kid. Nothin' you could've done, darlin'."
"I'm thirty-four now. I've been out here for almost twenty years, I could've... could've found you. I could have... I didn't even entertain the idea that you could be alive. Which is fucki-stupid, because I literally had a woman from our time take care of me. If she made it, and she wasn't in a Vault Tec facility, I could have at least thought you'd have found some other way too." And then things could have been so different. She wouldn't have been the leader of one of the biggest settlements of raiders, for one. But then, she was also in a place where she could keep those little yellow vials coming for him, something no honest person could offer. But God, had she known, even at fifteen, she would have gone to war for him.
She didn't fully needed the confirm, but when her father remembered the little rule the marines had taught him, she felt she could breathe more easily. Had he not, she would have been forced to keep her guard up, keep suspecting foul play from her mother again. "If it's bigger… don't bother runnin'." "And yet we did. I did twice. Saw another nuke not long after," she was far too happy for that topic to come up, in a way she wasn't familiar with; so much relief and joy filling her chest, that even remembering another 'worse day of her life' couldn't put a damper on that. "I grabbed a kid-the less dumb one of those two," she stopped cutting through the rope for a moment to point at her back, where Roy and Pat had been standing earlier, "And made a run for it again. Not looking forward to the third." That would just be her life, wouldn't it? Hank was in Lee's hands now, but she wouldn't put it past him.
His rope had been cut, and to stop herself from hugging him, if only because she wasn't ready yet, she reached for his hat, which had been abandoned on the floor - same hat, or at least same type - and put it back on his head, flashing him a bright smile, "There you are." She remembered having one just like that, a precious memory, but had never found another one like it. Not that it would go well with the raider wardrobe, but back in the day, before life had kicked her down one last time, she had thought about pulling the whole 'sheriff' thing and openly and shamelessly fight for the good side. Rose would have loved it. She had thought her father would too, considering that was his 'role'. But life had gone another way.
And she was reminded of it when he asked the question.
"...How'd the vaults keep you alive this long? Where's your mom?"
Her - far more familiar - scowl was back, with the added bonus of the spark of nearly constant anger in her eyes whenever her mother was a topic of discussion. "If there was any justice in this world she'd be long dead, but given that she's the fucking devil, I'm assuming she's ruling hell and the Vaults as we speak. We were in cryo, that's how we are still alive." She looked away, there was too much hatred in her to allow her to look at her father directly when speaking of that monster. "I don't know if you learned about this before the end of the world, but every Vault was supposed to run a different experiment. Ours was 31, management, pre-war people getting unfrozen and pretending to be just your regular vault dweller, controlling the lives of 32 and 33. Making them 'just right'. I bolted at fifteen with a woman from 33 and her kids, she had figured it out too... Hence the nuke." Blinking, she thought about it for a second, then tlted her head and looked at him again, "Been a while since I spoke to someone I could tell 'hence' to."
If there was any disappointment or repulsion at what the man on the tv had mutated into, he didn't see it in Janey's face. Disarmingly, she seemed to be taking his disfigured features in stride. Clearly he was not the first ghoul she'd been sat this close to for a chat.
God, how long had she been out here? Since before he'd been put in the ground by Dom Pedro? How many times had they passed through the same routes like ships in the night, utterly unaware of how close they were to finding each other? How many times had she almost been killed before they ever even crossed paths?
He could have killed her himself, without ever even recognising her for who she was. The realisation was chilling.
"It's you."
A gentle touch jolted The Ghoul out of his grim rumination. He reflexively tensed under the contact, eyeing the hand that had settled onto his bony knee as if it was a hallucination that he hadn't expected to actually be real. He could feel the warmth of her palm through his trouser leg; it stirred a faint memory of a time when physical affection had been as natural as breathing, and made his throat tighten.
When was the last time someone had touched him outside of a fight? He didn't remember. Nobody touched him. Everyone who survived meeting The Ghoul knew better than to try and become too familiar.
He was acutely aware of the ropes pinning his arms to his sides.
"You remember me. You are real... I knew it..."
Considering how many folks he'd outlived with his condition, she had no idea just how lucky they were that he had any memories or lucidity left at all.
...Why had she been doubting whether he was real? She'd definitely been old enough to remember him. Then again, maybe whatever way she'd been preserved for this long had messed with her head, too.
"... hell you mean how am I here? How are you here? I was safe in a Vault, you were... what, you were out here for two hundred years? Is that even possible?"
The Ghoul simply lifted his shoulders in an awkward little shrug, and leaned back against the overturned trolley. The dig of metal bars against his back was grounding. Shit, he was too high for this kind of conversation. It had been a long time since he'd actually wanted to be sober when talking to someone, but right now it was only adding to the already mountainous pile of ways he was really fucking up this long-awaited family reunion.
"I was searchin' for you," he told her flippantly, as though that wasn't a horribly exposing confession to scrape out of his chest and plop down on the floor in between them. As though it really was just a matter of being too stubborn to die before he found out what had happened to her.
"Knew them vaults would open up eventually. Just had to find the right one."
And discard all his moral principles so that he could make enough money to feed his growing dependency on those damned vials for survival.
"God, you were out here all this time? I thought you died that day, I thought... if I had known... could've..."
The Ghoul tilted his head to one side, slanting her a wry little smile with a morbidly knowing edge.
"You were a kid. Nothin' you could've done, darlin'."
Cooper Howard had died a long time ago. Janey Howard would've died too, if she hadn't made it into that vault. And not all things that died became reborn - or lasted half as long as he'd managed to.
He gave a pointed little look down at the ropes that bound him, and a querying eyebrow raise in Janey's direction - do you mind?
Fortunately, she seemed to have just had the same awkward epiphany that restraints were largely an obsolete thing at this point.
"Shit, the rope. Right."
The Ghoul stayed very still as she drew her knife and hesitated over him. Why was she hesitating? Why was she looking at him like that now, with shaky hands? It unsettled him that he couldn't get a clear read on what she was thinking. He didn't know this adult Janey at all. Being family didn't necessarily mean that she wasn't going to fuck him over - he'd seen families turn on each other countless times before. That didn't make the concept hurt any less.
He'd rather be shot by that vault-dweller. He'd rather be ripped apart by ferals or eaten alive by a gulper. He'd rather face any other death than one at his own daughter's hands.
"Wait, do you remember-"
His brow furrowed. It had been two hundred fucking years, so there were no guarantees he was going to have crystal-clear memory recall of whatever this last-minute little test was supposed to be.
Or maybe this was where he found out he'd unknowingly killed one of her buddies, or some similarly awkward shit.
"What's the last thing you taught me? Before the slice of cake."
The Ghoul simply stared at her in blank silence.
...Well. Shit. He vaguely remembered that they'd been talking about something, just the two of them, before he'd gone inside to try and ask the hostess if he could take a slice of cake for her. What had they been talking about, again? This was going to look really bad if he couldn't remember, but being put on the spot like this was difficult enough when it was about something that happened last year - let alone two centuries ago.
"Do you remember what you told me, the thing about the cloud, and what to do?"
There was a flicker of comprehension across his marred features; his expression turned oddly distant, etched with something uncharacteristically somber.
Is it your thumb, or mine?
A gloved hand twitched at his side, then balled into a shaky fist; slowly, he turned it and raised his thumb in the abhorrent gesture he had avoided for so long. The gesture that had become so synonymous with Vault Tec's brand, because of one stupid photoshoot he'd done for them, that they'd kept it even after they cut him out of all their marketing.
"...If the cloud's smaller than your thumb, run for the hills." The words were very quiet and hollow, recited on autopilot.
"If it's bigger... don't bother runnin'."
Ironic, how utterly he'd disregarded that advice he'd been given in the marines the moment he'd been faced with a nuclear bomb with his daughter at his side. He hadn't even hesitated to grab her and run. And despite all the odds, they were both still here.
"...How'd the vaults keep you alive this long? Where's your mom?"
@savingthrcw
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buckysimp101 · 2 years ago
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Deleted Scene 2- Love at First Grade (18+)
drabble warnings: fluff. that’s all. oh it’s so sticky sweet
request: the wedddinnggg???? omg avery and becca would be so adorable with excitement (here’s the ask)
a/n: you asked, now i’m delivering! hope y’all enjoy this lil drabble of their wedding 
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“Becca, Avery. For the last time the two of you need to sit still so these nice ladies can finish your hair.”
“Yes, Nanaaaaaaaaa,” the two feisty eight and nine year olds spoke sweetly in unison as they batted their eyes at Winnie. Winnie merely cut her eyes at the two, trying to figure out if they would actually listen this time, before walking away. Avery and Becca giggled as the ladies rushing around the room trying to finish up last minute hair and makeup barely paid them any mind as they wrapped up with the girls.
“Psssst, Avery. Mama said we can get candy if we’re good….and I think we’ve been good…wanna go find some candy?” Becca whispered as if not to catch the attention of the adults in the room. You were sitting in the chair now, being doted on by Winnifred and your mother as the cosmetologists finished working on your hair and makeup, Bex, Wanda and Natasha oohing over your dress in the corner. The girls were alone, relatively speaking, for the first time all day.
Avery pressed her lips together, trying to think if she had actually been good or if she just wanted candy, but the latter thought won out by convincing her of the former. The wedding was another hour away, not that the two girls had any way of telling time nor were they about to ask. So they did what relatively unsupervised children do, they snuck out the open door. Becca and Avery giggled when they realized none of the adults had even seen them leave, as they took off down the hallway in bare feet and matching pajamas. The first door they found was the bathroom, but it was the fanciest bathroom either of them had ever set foot in. Gilded mirrors and fancy tile had the girls dancing and singing like they were in a Barbie Princess movie. It only took a few minutes of goofing off before they remembered the task at hand, and they left the fancy bathroom behind in search of candy.
A few more doors, a few storage closets, another bathroom. Still no luck. When they rounded the corner and found the stair well, they decided they might as well check the other floors. One floor and four tested doors later the girls were in for a surprise. But it wasn’t candy. No. It was…
“UNCLE STEVE!?”
“Becca…Avery…what are you two doing down here?” Steve questioned from where he sat in the suite, obviously confused and concerned as to why the two girls were wandering around the venue on their own. His question didn’t have time to be answered however because the door to the bathroom was opening up and revealing a very anxious ball of energy, concerned as hell about his tie and if it was the right length or not.
“Steve, I swear for the life of my I can’t remember if this tie is supposed to be this long, or if it’s supposed to be shorter. The dimple looks like it’s off-center, I look a me-,” Bucky rambled, still not noticing the girls until they released their twin shrieks like a banshee call.
“DADDY!!!!!!!!!” “PAPA!!!!!!!” Becca and Avery squealed as their eyes landed on Bucky in his suit. His attention was grabbed immediately, but before he could even ask the girls how they’d gotten there they were running full speed and flinging themselves into his arms. 
“You look so handsome!” “We haven’t seen you all day!” “Mama looks beautiful, did you know that!?” On and on the girls squealed and rambled until Bucky could finally find the words he was looking for.
“You know it’s so good to see you girls, and wow do you both look so pretty with your hair all nice and ready…but…you’re not in your dresses…and there’s no adult here besides Uncle Stevie…how did you end up here?” Bucky questioned so as not to sound angry but at least the slightest bit concerned. The giggles stopped almost immediately as the girls realized their search for candy was likely at an end. Neither of them answered Bucky, but their silence was answer enough. He let out a sigh and squeezed the girls tight before heading into the bathroom for his phone. As he was about to call his mother, he was receiving one from her instead.
“Hey ma,” Bucky started but was immediately cut off by his mother’s frantic voice going on and on about the girls and not being able to find him, but Bucky was able to calm her down as he let her know that he had them safe and sound if she wanted to come pick them up and get them ready. At the sound that the girls had been found, it was like everyone on his mother’s side of the phone call let out a deep breath as she thanked him and promised to send Bex to pick them up. After hanging up the phone, Bucky looked down at Becca and Avery but each of them were offering him a small look of wide eyes and sad faces.
“Girls, you scared your mama and Nana and Grammies and all your aunties. Wanna tell me what you were doing walking around the place by yourself and not telling anyone where you were going?” 
Avery spoke up, “we were just looking for candy, Papa. All the ladies were done with us and mama said if we were good we would get candy.” Her voice wobbled a little bit and Bucky knew that she was seconds from crying at the stress and fear they’d accidentally given everyone today, Becca, meanwhile, merely nodded her head in agreement but refused to make eye contact with Bucky. Heaving out another sigh, he pulled the girls close and made them promise to apologize to you the second they got back in their room. And that they wouldn’t get candy for this because of their actions; however, he did promise them cake if they behaved the rest of the day. And everybody knows that cake trumps candy all the time.
When Bex arrived to pick up the girls she also told them how much their disappearance scared everyone and how you were on the verge of tears when you had looked around, and they were nowhere to be seen. Both Becca and Avery’s lips wobbled that time, Bucky could tell they didn’t like the idea that they had upset you, so he sent them off with Bex to apologize and get ready for the wedding.
When the girls arrive back in the room you wrapped them each into a tight hug. You apologized to them for not paying as much attention to them this morning and they apologized for leaving without telling an adult where they were going or what they wanted. Not much longer and everyone was dressed, the girls were calling you a princess, and you were walking down an aisle scattered with flowers, your father on your arm guiding you toward your husband. The moment Bucky laid eyes on you his world stopped. His heart thudded dangerously loud in his ears, his eyes pricked hot with tears, and his mouth had a mind of its own as it damn near dropped to the floor at the sight of you. One tear dropped from his eyes, then two, then three. Until Bucky was being nudged in the side by Steve, offering him a handkerchief and a smirk that said “I-told-you-so.” When your hand was put in his, Bucky felt his heart soar and when you were proclaimed husband and wife, he claimed your lips in a heated kiss, a few wolf whistles thrown out by Tony and Sam and twin “ewes!” By the girls were the only things pulling him back to the present. The glint in your eye was proof that he’d have more of that later on.
The reception went off without a hitch. The girls behaved wonderfully the rest of the night and got the first slices of cake. As the night wore on and bedtime slowly crept upon them, they got more clingy. Throughout the night the girls had gone from dancing with the two of you, to dancing with Steve and Sam, to Sam and Nat, to Morgan Stark. Towards the end, the four of you danced slowly with Avery and Becca both in Bucky’s arms, enclosed in a little huddle as you all swayed to the music. The girls’ eyes were getting heavier and you both knew it was almost time to send them on to bed with Grammie. Becca provided you with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek as she sighed, “I love you, mama” and Avery did the same to Bucky. The little pieces of affection enough to make you want a million more kids. 
When the kids and the grandparents left the music turned a little more…inappropriate and so did the dancing. Eventually, the music wound down once more and a few more slow songs played for the night to end. Bucky was holding you tight, singing along to the words of the song talking about love and the future, his lips brushing against your ear and sending bolts of electricity through your body. When you looked into his eyes, they were sparkling with happiness. He bent down to capture your lips in a kiss, slow and languid. Sweet and soft with a hint of a promise of what was to come. When he broke the kiss, Bucky looked like he was about to say something but your attention was pulled to something just over his shoulder. Your eyes widened and you damn near poked a hole through his chest to get him to focus on something else.
“You think he finally wisened up and asked her!?” you whispered in excitement, pulling Bucky’s attention to the other side of the dance floor where Wanda and Steve danced closely to one another, their eyes completely locked on their partner and nobody else in the room. Bucky snorted in response, the day Steve Rogers ever bucked up the courage to talk a pretty girl into dancing with him was the day that pigs would fly.
“Come on, you know it was Wanda that did that. Steve gets flustered just by being in her general vicinity,” Bucky teased, making you giggle in response. Wanda had been flirting with Steve ever since that night at Obsidian, and Steve had…tried to flirt back a number of times. But it didn’t matter how often Steve crashed and burned in his attempts with Wanda, she always found them endearing, a promise she’d made to you multiple times over the years. Wanda’s crush on Steve had only grown as the years passed, and so had Steve’s crush on Wanda. At every possible moment, you and Bucky and Sam had schemed to get the two of them more…involved. It seemed that a wedding was just the push they needed.
“Mmmm, well I hope he realizes sooner rather than later that she likes him just as much as he likes her. They look so happy together,” you sighed dreamily, resting your head on Bucky’s chest as he continued to sway the two of you to the music. 
“Hmm, and what about you, Mrs. Barnes? Are you happy?” Bucky teased, using your married name for the first time since the officiant declared it so. 
In response, you lifted your head from Bucky’s chest, a small grin growing on your lips, as you pressed them deeply to his. Only breaking the kiss long enough to whisper against his lips, “Immensely so, Mr. Barnes."
taglist:
@youlightmeupfinn
@la-undercover-latina
@jackiehollanderr
@fab-notfat
@galaxy-dusk
@asoftie4bucky
@fangirlvoice
@queenbeecandi*
@babyevansblog
@stevihj
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@justsomebodyweird
@katiecg
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@some-lovely-day
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@juulle987
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@i-need-mental-help-today
@gloriouspurpose01
@iridescent-vixen
@mochie85
@enchantedbarnes
@beclovescatz
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thatgoblin · 3 years ago
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RE Boys Meeting Readers Parents for the First Time
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Requested by Anonymous
Warnings: Rude AF parents
Piers
You were nervous to say the least. It wasn't often you brought a partner home to meet your family and with summer in full swing along with BBQs and cook outs, it only seemed natural that you bring Piers to one that your family was hosting.
Showing up in his jeep, you hoped that he would fit in, well rather your family would like him. You didn't exactly fit in yourself, but if they were tolerable or cordial even, that would be a dream come true.
Bringing in side dishes you'd picked up at the store, you and Piers walk through the front door and are greeted with waves and hellos from your siblings and aunts and uncles. It was practically a reunion at that point.
Setting things on a table outside as your dad grilled, you knew you had to introduce Piers to everyone, but first your parents.
"So what do you do, son?" You father asked as he kept his eyes on the burgers he had on the grill. "For work that is."
"I'm an agent for the BSAA. It's kinda like the military, but it's not just for one government. We have branches all over the world."
"So, you think the US military isn't that great then?"
Oh gods, no. Please, please, please, don't.
Of course your dad does indeed go there.
"Of course not, Sir. My commanding office was in the Air Force as well as a special tactics team for the police himself before founding the BSAA. I served a four year stint in the Marines myself before transferring."
That seemed to satisfy your dad as he gave a nod before he waved you on to go meet your mom.
Dad was the easier of the two, Mom was. . . Mom could break relationships up so easily and you wondered if she knew she wielded that power.
"So, your Y/N's boyfriend?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Well, I hope they won't run you off like their last partner, what with all the emotional tantrums and needs."
"No, Ma'am. I don't plan on letting something small like that push me away."
"Small?" She laughed. Actually fucking laughed. "You certainly haven't seen them at their worst then."
"Maybe not, but they've seen me at my worst and I doubt some tears and screaming would make me want to leave."
You excused the two of your quickly. Jesus, why did you even go? Because they'd call and guilt you, that was why.
"Ignore them. I'm not upset with you about anything and no matter what they say, it won't change how I feel about you."
Giving you a kiss to the head and a squeeze around the shoulders, the two of you went to spray your nieces and nephews with the hose.
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Leon
You had met Leon's grandmother, the woman was lovely if not completely there. She lived in a nursing home that had the best care possible and Leon made sure it stayed that way.
So when it came time to meet your family, you nearly made up an excuse to stay away, but after nearly 9 months and your mother pestering you into a dinner at an Italian place near them, you gave him and hoped Leon wouldn't be scared off.
Granted the man had literally been through warzones, infected with mind controlling parasites, and so much more, it was the mundane things that you worried would be too much for him.
He thought it was cute, giving you one liners of sass to irritate you out of worrying.
What really worried you wasn't that your parents wouldn't like Leon because he did have a good paying job, his own car, his own home, didn't have debt, but it was the fact that he was 20 years your senior that made you nervous.
Hell, your dad was only older than him by 10 years and your mom 6.
Sure he looked good for 44, but that didn't mean much when it came down to his age.
At the restaurant, you couldn't stop worrying the cloth napkin in your hand as your parents and Leon spoke. They were curious and wanted to know about him.
Leon answered everything perfectly. Nothing too descriptive about his job, his hobbies including working on an old mustang he bought as well as crossword puzzles, seeing friends, and watching 'the sports.'
You knew the last one was a life because Leon hated watching sports. He'd rather be playing them himself.
"So, how old are you, Leon?" Your dad asked.
This was it, this was the big on. They ate up everything he had to say before hand, so maybe that would account for something.
"I'm 44, turning 45 in a few months."
"Oh. That's interesting."
You were gulping down the water to keep you from making any noise or comment as your Dad changed his look.
"So what's a 45 year old man doing with a 24 year old that just moved out on their own not 3 years ago?"
Were it not obvious, you would have slid under the table to hide how red your face was getting.
"Because I love them."
Okay, that helped a lot. You couldn't help the smile on your face as you watched Leon remain calm.
"Love's a big word there."
"But it's accurate. I love them and they love me. If I didn't mean it I wouldn't say it."
"Any previous marriages? Kids?"
And there was mother chiming in to try and ruin it.
"No and no. I never had time for a real relationship or kids with my job so I didn't pursue either. It's within the last year that I've had some changes at work and no longer really work out of the office, so it felt like I was able to have a steady relationship."
"So, this is your first real relationship then?"
"All my relationships are real, I assure you. If I wasn't able to commit to someone, I wouldn't. That was the mature thing to do as well as a healthy one. Just because I didn't have a romantic relationship for so long doesn't mean I don't know how a partnership works. I can rely on Y/N, confide in them, work with them, and know that they can do the same for me. Sure there's some bickering, but all relationships have that. It's part of it. That doesn't mean I want to leave them. I'm sure you two have had bad fights that felt like it was the end of the world, but it turned out you cared for each other too much to let it ruin your relationship."
Never in your entire life had your parents been stunned into silence. It was a sign from the heavens. You were going to marry that man.
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Chris
It was a rare treat for Chris and you to see family separately, so when it came time for your family to meet Chris, you were. . . Well, freaking out.
Chris was confused, but supportive. It was just dinner with your family to introduce him and your promotion at work, what could go wrong?
So, so much.
Holy shit, how were you going to do this? Your sister and her perfect husband would be there, constantly showing how perfect she was while you were the younger sibling that was constantly compared to her.
"Just take it one moment at a time. I mean, I've see you yell at soldiers bigger than me and leave them in near tears. You've got this."
He's trying to be sweet, but he doesn't know where you learned that skill.
Walking in, your sister and her husband were having drinks outside with your parents, already eating. So much for showing up on time.
"I'm sorry, we just couldn't wait. Your sister was hungry and couldn't help herself, so we all joined in," your mom said.
Of course she was.
"Here are our sides."
You put on a smile and try not glare at your sister.
"Everyone, this is Chris. Chris, this is my mom, dad, sister, and her husband."
"It's a pleasure to meet all of you."
Ever the gentleman, he pulls your chair out for you before sitting himself.
"So how did Y/N managed to snag such a handsome man as yourself?"
And it begins.
"Well, we met when they were training at the BSAA obstacle course and I saw them wipe the floor with the other agents, setting the record for best time ever."
"Oh, you must like the strong ones." Your sister giggled as you put food on your plate and Chris', purposefully staring at the table.
"Strong or not, it was just the first time we met. We worked together for a few months on a project and got to know each other better and when the project was over, they asked me out to dinner."
You eyed the nearly empty bottle of wine and cursed your mother for using large wine glasses.
"Of course they asked first. I'm not surprised. They've always been a bit boy crazy, needing a boyfriend all the time. I could never keep up with them honestly." Your mother's drunk cackle made you want to claw your own ears in hope that they'd never hear it again.
"Mother. It's just that there's always a revolving door of boys with them that we never really get to meet them."
Of course your sister had to pipe in, making you sound like all you did was just date or sleep around as if it was a bad thing.
"I wouldn't know, we've been together for nearly 9 months."
Bless that man. Having had to raise Claire, he would have to learn to have a quick wit and come backs.
"9 months? Wow, and you're not pregnant yet? I'm surprised you haven't had a baby yet."
Of course your brother in law added into the dog pile.
"We talked about kids and decided not to have any."
Your words stunned everyone else who looked like you'd just spat on the table.
"You mean, you don't want to have any grandbabies for me?"
"You'll change your mind. You're still young."
"But you two would have such cute babies and I'm sure you'd be great parents."
"When did us having babies start involving you?"
It was Chris' turn to shock everyone.
"Last I checked, I'm not in a relationship with any of you, so why would us having or not having kids matter? You wouldn't be raising them, feeding them, clothing them. We would and if we don't want to have that responsibility, why would we have kids for you to dote on but hand back after an hour? If you want that, get a dog or better yet a doll. At least then you don't have to worry about actually taking care of a living thing."
You were incredibly turned on by him just laying down the truth and taking the piss out of everyone. He was definitely getting head tonight.
"Seems kind of rude of you to say that?"
"Oh? Like how you continued to act like Y/N having multiple partners somehow makes them less than? And saying that in front of me as if you were trying to break us up wasn't rude? Or how about assuming their sexual activities and making them out to be some sort of deviant that's careless about their actions? No wonder I haven't met any of you yet, I wouldn't want to know you if I could help it."
The table was silent and you knew that he was perfect and that he was going to always have your back.
"I like him," your dad piped in with a chuckle.
Master List
Tag List: @abysswhiskey11 @interviewedchicken @lonely-af-fangirl @girl-obsessed-with-things @mmmm—-15 @depressedthebluefox @whimsywispsblog @singingsiren98 @parkerschurros @chrissyreid @bohica160
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daryfromthefuture · 3 years ago
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An AU I'm currently obsessed with
...something going wrong with the locomotive or something and leaving Doc and Marty stuck in 1885?!
I MEAN
Marty is forced to live in a time 100 years before his own forEVEr (Here's the inspiration fic btw, 10/10 would recommend, some ideas are from there, too)
So anyway, some thoughts:
Doc is obviously in love with Clara, and now that he's stuck in the 1880s, he can...well, live with her for the rest of his life. Basically, he doesn't mind staying in his favorite era. He often goes on dates with her and spends the evenings rather with her than staying in the stable and actually try and work on plans to repair the time machine/build a new one.
Guess who doesn't like that at all? Correct: Marty. He feels completely lost and now also abandoned by the only person that is familiar to him in the Old West. He tries to tell Doc that he feels left behind, but Doc doesn't understand and tells him that it'll pass and that of course he would never leave him. While getting ready for the next stargazing date :(
Two months later, Doc is already planning on proposing to Clara. Marty meanwhile keeps his feelings to himself and bottles them up like a professional, and even manages to keep a straight face when Doc tells him about his plans about him and the schoolteacher. The night Doc is off to ask The Big Question, Marty wanders to the saloon and tries his mother's method of dealing with problems: Drinking. That does NOT go well, and he ends up being brought back to the stable by either Seamus or Chester. When Doc comes home after having recieved a "yes" from Clara concerning their marriage, he isn't pleased to find Marty drunk af.
The morning afterwards, Marty wakes up with a bad hangover. When Doc then proceeds to yell at him, he snaps. Imma write that scene out bc I have it in my head:
"Marty, what do you THINK you were doing last night?! Drinking, are you serious? You know that you're not helping yourself adjust to this century by simply trying their whiskey!" The teen sitting on the bed didn't reply, so the scientist continued his lecture: "I already have my hands full with my job as blacksmith, my now impending wedding and the time machine. Do you really have to make it even harder for me?" That was it. Marty had have enough. "What do you mean, hard?! You seem to be living your best life here! You can do something you like and try new stuff. Hell, I don't even have my damned guitar! And you got Clara, while Jennifer and my family are a hundred years in the future. I don't have anyone here, Doc. Except you. But, no, you don't need me around anymore. Why waste your time on some stupid kid when you can go and relax with a smart and beautiful lady? Exactly, there's no reason to." Doc's facial features abruptly softened. "What?" Marty cursed as he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't need crying now, he had a headache already. "You- you heard me. I know you don't give a shit about me anymore, but at least tell me that." Emmett wondered if one was able to hear his heart shattering. While he had been so focused on courting Clara, and spending time with her, he had completely forgotten that Marty was here as well. While he had been trying his best at making Clara happy, and taking care of her, he hadn't done the same for Marty. And the boy was under his charge now, after all. Doc now completely understood why Marty had been drinking - if he felt so alone... He slowly sat down next to Marty on the edge of the bed. "I- I didn't realize you felt that way." Marty looked up from the floor, a couple tears rolling down his cheeks. "Maybe it's because you never asked," he said quietly, before wiping at his face. "I'm sorry, Marty," Emmett said. And he meant it. "I do care about you. Very much. Please forgive me for making you think otherwise." The teen nodded, but then broke down in quiet sobs. "I'm- I'm sorry too. I'm being a selfish jerk. You've finally found love, and here I am, jealous." "You're not to blame," Doc spoke softly, "I would've felt the same way if I was you." He gently reached forward and brought Marty into his arms, holding him tightly. "I'm here, Marty, I'm here. I promise."
(Not me totally crying over the last bit.)
Anyway, after Doc and Clara get married, Marty settles down with them in a new house. Doc is very paranoid about not changing stuff about the future, and so Marty mostly spends his time writing random songs or helping Doc with his blacksmithing. However, he starts to get bored and at the same time begins to lose his hopes of ever getting home.
About Doc and Clara's kids? Look, Doc really did NOT want kids. Not because he doesn't want them but because of the potential damage to the space-time-continuum and all that. Eventually, Clara gets pregnant and Doc panics. But then he calms down and realizes that ok, maybe the universe won't collapse.
Our boy Marty, after seemigly having made peace with the fact that Doc is a married man, is now back on his anxiety train. Doc now won't have time for me at all. Who am I to him now? Will I only be a third wheel all the time?
Aaaand Imma leave it with that. But pleaaasee ramble with me about this :0
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bibbykins · 4 years ago
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Insufferable
A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!
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Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one
Word count: 3.6k
Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader
Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.
Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too
There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.
You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.
Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.
You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.
Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.
Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.
Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.
“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”
“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?
You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”
“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”
Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.
“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”
“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.
“No, but I know how you look naked-”
“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.
“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.
“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.
“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”
“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.
You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-
You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.
Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-
“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.
Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?
You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.
You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.
The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.
“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.
He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.
You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.
“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”
“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.
“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.
You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.
Old habits die hard.
Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.
Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.
The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.
Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.
You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.
“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.
You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?
Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.
You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.
He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.
I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.
I’m so tired.
-Mom
Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.
“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.
“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”
He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.
No thanks to him.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.
“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”
“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.
“Wh-”
He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.
However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.
"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.
You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”
Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.
He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.
His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.
He froze.
Fuck, what food do you like?
He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.
Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.
Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.
He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.
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literaila · 4 years ago
Text
Space
spencer reid x reader 
warnings: none... well angst.. and shitty writing 
***
Long nights out with the rest of the team were always dreadful the next morning. 
But Y/N felt like this morning was one of the worst. 
She’d woken up with mascara running down her face, her joints stiff and cracking at any little movement. Her head was banging from the inside out, and if she focused enough she could feel her brain beating against her skull. 
And don't even get her started on Spencer. 
It had taken Y/N at least 10 minutes to get him to open his eyes. Although he wasn't an avid drinker and had only taken a couple of sips of wine, he seemed to be even more hungover than Y/N did. She cuddled up to him, leaving kisses down his cheeks and neck before he would even consider opening her eyes. 
So like the dutiful girlfriend she was, Y/N got up and started a pot of coffee for both of them, and then headed into the bathroom to grab some advil, which she had to force-feed to Spencer. 
And eventually, after the alarm clock started blaring for the 6th time, both of them finally started to get ready. 
Their dynamic for mornings like this was simple, Y/N always got to shower first, while Spencer fought to stay awake without yawning every 10 seconds, and then Y/N went to go make breakfast for the both of them, which they would eat in the car on the way to the BAU. 
And that particular morning no one seemed to be up for any sort of chit chat, barely even passing casualties back and forth before sitting down at their desks ready for a day of paperwork. They made sure to plan a night full of drinking the night before a day of paperwork. They weren't idiots all of the time. 
Though their good planning all went to waste when Hotch asked them to meet him in the conference room. 
Hangovers and serial killers it was. 
***
“Bobby Smith, 9 years old, vanished 48 hours ago from a residential area, where his mother Marlene Smith, claims to have dropped him off.” Garcia started handing each one of the team members a folder. You could hear the drowsiness in her voice, and because everyone felt the same, they all pretended to not notice. 
There was a brief silence while they all read their files before Derek startled them back to life. 
“48 hours and we’re just learning about it now?” 
Y/N carefully grabbed Spencer's hand under the table, rubbing up and down his forearm while reading her file. It was tough to keep it professional at work, but Y/N always managed to keep the touching as limited as she could. But the ache she felt when she wasn't touching Spencer spread through her muscles like angry wind just begging her to reach out to him. And so she touched him, she felt comforted by the little body heat she could feel from even just resting her, it was especially comforting when they were on a difficult case. It was a rare occasion when she managed to keep her hands off of him, but Y/N tried to keep it as platonic as she could, not wanting to make Spencer of their coworkers uncomfortable. 
Though as she read through her file, she could see the little inconspicuous movements Spencer made. She wondered if he was trying to keep himself awake or just felt restless, either way, she kept her hand on his. 
What she didn't see was the panicked almost annoyed glances Spencer was giving her hand, she didn't see the way he was leaning away from her, moving his chair slightly to the right as to distance himself from her. 
JJ did though, she watched with a frown on her face listening to Gracia explain what had happened to the little boy, but not moving her eyes off of Spencer and Y/N. She tried not to notice Spencer's body language and the clear physical contact going on under the table. 
“So she's not exactly on the shortlist for the mother of the year,” JJ said, still clearly looking at the couple, while neither of them noticed. 
And she didn't look away, even when Spencer looked up and added a few notes of statistics, and Hotch announced it was time to go. 
They all made moves to get up and go, watching Hotch walk out the door in a rush to get everything set up for them to leave. JJ grabbed Spencer before he could protest, dragging him into her office. The others watched in confusion before Derek finally said 
“Guess we aren't invited to the party.” as he walked to grab his go-bag. 
“It's probably something about the case, we better get going. Hotch seemed stressed.”
Y/N didn't seem confused by JJ and Spencer's scene, and let her mind run thinking about the case. 
“Y/N?” She heard Hotch call. 
He handed her a file and asked if she would bring it to Spencer- apparently it was something about the Mother he wanted him to look over- and because of the circles under his eyes, and the tired way his body was leaning she was quick to agree. 
Walking over to JJ’s office, she was about to knock when she heard
“I love her JJ, I really really do. Sometimes though- I just- want some space- like you know I don't like touching anyone anyway, and I just-” he sighed and Y/N could feel herself holding her breath. “I just want some more space. I’m not sure how to tell her though”. 
Y/N could feel the tears prick at her eyes, her stomach had fallen, taking the rest of her organs with it. At that moment it felt like the world was so silent she could hear her own heart beating. She could only think of all the times Spencer had seemed to pull away, thinking of the way she thought it was just an accident, that he was just restless, just needed to move a little. 
But no. 
He just didn't want her to touch him. 
Y/N heard JJ sigh a soft “Spence…” before she turned away, forgetting about the file she was supposed to give him, and walking to get her bag so she could get the hell out of the office.   
***
Finding Bobby's Mother dead was hard. It caused more confusion with the cause, and now the last known witness to Bobby had been murdered. The only good thing that had happened was the unsub letting one of the little boys go. But still, none of the team's questions had been answered.
Not touching Spencer was hard too. 
Y/N had never been self-conscious about her affliction to touch, she’d never been afraid to hug someone, or rest her hands on their shoulders while looking at them. In fact, she couldn't remember a time in her life where she didn't like touching people, even as a kid it was clear she was a touchy-feely sort of person, but no one had ever wanted her to stop.
Spencer's germaphobic tendencies didn't go unnoticed by Y/N, when they’d first met he’d made it a point not to shake her hand, but as they got more comfortable with each other that changed. He didn't seem to mind her running her hands up and down her arms, or resting her hand on his cheek, or hugging him from behind any chance she got. She thought she was just special, that Spencer loved her so much that he didn't mind touching her, that there was nothing gross about sharing germs with someone that he was infatuated with. 
Hearing that she was wrong was deafening. 
Although she knew she was probably blowing things out of proportion, it felt like she’d been lied to for the last 2 years she and Spencer had been together. The guilt she felt just knowing she was making him uncomfortable by just being herself was insane. 
And she couldn't help but feel like she had no option but to change it all. 
So she didn't touch him, not on the plane, where usually they would share the couch while looking over the case once again with the team. She didn't touch him when he passed her in the hallway when they were sitting next to each other in a rental car when they walked to the hotel room when they had stopped to grab coffee the next morning. She didn't touch him at all. 
It was killing her. 
Touch was such a frequent thing for her, such a necessity and she’d never even realized it. Not touching him all the time was swallowing her whole, and filling her with doubt and insecurities that threatened to take over her mind. Anytime she wasn't working, wasn't helping out, wasn't thinking, his voice would come back, loud and clear, asking her for space. Nothing would get rid of the fear that she was too clingy, that she was just too much. 
It was hard to look at him without worrying if he actually hated her love if he was starting to realize she was just too much for him. Just a couple of sentences could bring back insecurities that weren't gone apparently, just lost, insecurities that haven't been found since the beginning of their relationship when everything was still new. Y/N thought she’d moved past them. 
But she hadn't. And now she was avoiding her boyfriend. 
They had both noticed the distance, the wall that separated them. Spencer didn't understand it at all, he didn't know if something had happened or if he had done something, and he couldn't find the courage to ask. Y/N didn't want him to know. She didn't want him to feel guilty. She tried to ignore it, the constant barrier between them, but there was always a tension in the room. 
But this was work, and a boy's life was at risk. Relationship problems were the least of anyone's worries. 
Y/N and Spencer were stuck in the tiny conference room they had given the team at the police station, both of them going over files, although Spencer was obviously doing most of the work. Y/N could feel her eyes starting to fall, it wasn't technically that late, but paired with the insomnia that kept her up at night and the exhausting day she had and even 6 o’clock would seem late to anyone. 
It’d been an uncomfortable hour of silence and reading when Spencer finally spoke up, 
“Is something wrong?” Y/N could feel him looking at her, leaning his head down as if to make eye contact, but all she could feel was the heat coming off his body, the comfortable way his hand would feel in hers, and the hug that she so desperately needed. Eye contact wasn't enough, would never be enough, so she didn't look up.
A couple of days ago they would have been sitting almost on each other's laps, while reading, pointing out small details they noticed and helping each other. A couple of days ago Y/N wouldn't feel sad at the sound of Spencer's voice, and she would have looked up. 
A couple of days ago seemed like a dream. 
She could hear Spencer sigh and put down the paper he was holding. “Y/N?” He came around and put his hand on her shoulder, and her breath caught. “Is there something wrong?” He asked again quietly. 
A million different answers flashed in her head “Yes Spencer I’ve found out that you don't actually like me touching you and I don't know any way to cope with that.” or “I feel so incredibly guilty that I’ve been forcing you to deal with something that you don't like, and I feel even worse that I didn't notice it.” or “I just want a hug.”
But none of those thoughts came out of her mouth, what came out instead was “Yes Spencer! A little boy is missing and none of us have any fucking clue how to find him!”, quickly she pulled away from his hand, and forcefully grabbed her bag before saying “I’m gonna go call Hotch” and left slamming the door behind her. 
She didn't look back to see the sad look on Spencer's face. 
***
Bobby was alive.
And so were the two other women the unsub had taken. 
They were alive.
And they had the rest of their lives to live. 
The unsub was off to jail, where hopefully he could get over his bitter feelings towards his mother. Where hopefully he wouldn't hurt anyone else. 
Bobby had a long walk ahead of him, with his mother gone, murdered by the same man that was supposed to be helping Bobby. The grief was going to hurt, he would always have a missing piece, and a difficult story to share. For the rest of his life. 
But he was alive. 
***
 Going home to their small apartment was a relief. For both of them.
Y/N couldn't help but hope for some sleep. Just anything that would make her feel better. She couldn't shake the devastating feeling of grief that was stuck pounding in her chest. 
As much as she tried she couldn't convince her mind to get rid of the cloud of sadness covering it. She figured a good night's sleep would help remove some of that. 
The clashing colors and filled to the top bookshelves in the apartment made her feel at home, and she tried to imagine them as if they were a hug that was keeping her safe and warm.
Silence filled the apartment, both of them not saying anything, and quickly moving into different rooms. Y/N went to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. She was going to let Spencer have as much space as she could give him before she went to bed. 
They hadn't talked on the plane again, Y/N put as much distance between them on the couch as she could, and Spencer hasn't made any more moves to touch her since the scene in the conference room. Maybe he had taken the hint, or maybe he just didn't want to touch her. Y/N couldn't decide which one it was. 
“Y/N?” Spencer said slowly from the other room, almost as if he was questioning if she was still there. 
“Yeah?” she answered back in almost a whisper, which was fine for the acoustics of their small home. 
The acoustics that couldn't mask the sigh she heard come from the man in the other room before there was the distinct question of “can you come here?”. 
Y/N felt stupid being uncomfortable walking into her own room, but the tension between them had only grown in the past few days, and she really didn't want to be walking into another night of a clod bed and an unwavering feeling of doubt. 
“Do you need something Spence?” Y/N could hear the wheels of her boyfriend's brain turning from across the room. She had not directly addressed him in days. It was a surprise to both of them. 
“We need to talk.” The four words coming out of her boyfriend's mouth stopped her heart. Her brain was filled with what he had told JJ “I just need space.” What if he was breaking up with her? What if the space she was trying to give him wasn't enough? What if he needed so much space that even being in the same house as her was too much? What if she was still too much for him even when she was touching him?
Spencer cleared his throat and took a few steps toward her, moving closer to the door. “That sounded wrong I.. I didn't mean for it to sound like that- I just..” He stopped and she wondered why the words were so hard for him to get out? She wondered if this was really it. If the love of her life was going to leave. “What's going on with you?”
Now that, that surprised her. 
“W- what?” 
“Your face, I- I can see there's something wrong and I thought-'' Spencer's voice went up with his words, and Y/N could feel the emotion behind them. “ god I thought it was just the case because you seemed fine before, and that's what you told me. That's what you said!” his eyes were on her, watching her stare at the floor with such intensity clearly trying to voice the question in his voice. “I thought it was just the case? I thought it was just hard on you but you still look so.. So sad and you won't even look at me and just what is going on because there has to be something that I missed this- this didn't just happen?” His breath caught and all Y/N could do was stare at the floor and feel small. 
She felt so small. 
“N-” she cleared her throat trying to mask her voice into something stronger, “Nothing happened Spence.” 
“Then why won't you look at me?” He demanded still trying to get her to look up, still trying to get her to just look at him. 
“I- '' there were so many questions running through her head like how did they get there? How did any of this happen? How could she feel so miserable? Why couldn't she just look at him? 
“You haven't look at me, you haven't talked to me, you haven't even brushed your arm against mine once in the past week! I know something happened, and I don't know if I did something wrong? But I just want you to talk to me!”
The emotion coming from Spencer's voice surprised Y/N, but not as much as his words. He had actually noticed all of that? She felt so overwhelmed, and she had no idea how to answer him, how to explain everything. Tears were pricking at her eyes, and all she wanted to do was run away from him, from all the problems. She just wanted to run away.
Spencer took a deep breath and moved even closer to Y/N, standing right in front of her, ducking his head down to try to meet her eyes. “Y/N...we’re supposed to talk to each other. That's what couples do, they talk. I just want you to talk to me.” The desperation in his voice was obvious, but at that moment all Y/N could hear was ridiculing, and she felt like a child again, getting told what to do. And it was too much. 
She looked up. 
“That's what I thought Spencer! We’re supposed to talk to each other! So why couldn't you just tell me that you ‘needed space’?!?” The mocking was clear in her voice, and even though she saw the shocked look on her boyfriend's face she couldn't stop now. She moved her hands to wipe her tears and started again, “why couldn't you just tell me that I’m too much? Why did I have to find out by you talking to JJ?! God, I’m just trying to give you space but I’m not very good at it, so excuse me if I’m acting strange!”. 
Suddenly the mood in the room changed. Spencer finally understood, and Y/N felt relieved having her thoughts out in the open. Even though she was still terrified of what was going to happen, just expressing her feelings removed a big weight off of her chest. 
“Y/N..” 
“No! No. Its- it's fine. I’m sorry for yelling at you I’m just-” she felt small again, like all the courage she had was used when she had yelled at him. “I- maybe I’ll go see if Emily's okay with me crashing with her tonight- I just- I just have to get my stuff I’ll-” Y/N had turned around to go, ready to accept defeat when she felt the hands on her waist pulling her back. “Spence it's fine-”
“No, it's not fine.” He said harshly and insistently. He tried to get her to turn around, but she was frozen to her spot. “Will you please just look at me?” 
It took a few moments but hearing the desperation in his voice, Y/N finally let him turn her around. They stared at each other for a few moments, both of them stuck on the eyes they hadn't actually seen in days. Spencer was the first to break the silence. 
“I'm so so sorry.” The confusion must have been clear on his girlfriend's face because he continued, “I can't believe you could ever think I needed space from you, I can't believe I could ever believe I needed space from you.” There was guilt laced with frustration in his voice, and Y/N couldn't bring herself to speak. 
Spencer was gentle while removing his hands from her waist, and instead placing them on her face, gently lifting her chin so that she couldn't look away. It was strange to be so intimate after not touching him for days. But the relief coming from Y/N’s body was clear, just a little touch removed all the ache she’d been feeling for days.
“I was wrong.” Spencer started again, the sentence unusual for someone as smart as him. “I don't need space, I just need you. I just need you Y/N.” his eyes were pleading with hers instant, and she hoped hers were telling him it was alright. “It was unbearable not touching you. I’ve felt so closed in, claustrophobic, these past couple of weeks and I thought I was because of you, but it wasn't, you touching me was the only thing holding me together honestly.” 
Y/N felt more tears leave her, this time with happiness. Hearing that she could touch Spencer again flooded her body with the light she’d been missing. 
“I'm so sorry you heard me talking. I’m so sorry I was talking in the first place. I never really know when to keep my mouth shut.” They both laughed at his words. The tension was gone, and instead, a bliss overcame them, the distance was so exhausting for both of them, touching each other was like caffeine that made their skin buzz. 
“I love you, Spencer. I'm sorry for being so difficult.” He frowned at Y/N’s words, moving his thumbs slowly on her cheeks, and leaning down to kiss her. 
It was soft and slow, almost like Spencer was trying to tell her how much he loved her, and how much he loved being with her through a kiss. And it reminded Y/N of their first kiss, so much questioning but still deeper. So she kissed him and tried to display the same feelings for him. 
“You aren't going anywhere okay?” Spencer said breaking the kiss, a small smile resting on his face, a smile Y/N hadn't seen in days.
She pecked his lips and grinned at him, “just hold me okay?”.
And they were going to be okay. They hadn't talked everything out, but they were both exhausted, both barely awake. They would leave it for the night, and they would sleep peacefully in each others arms. Never again would space be included in the language they were building together. 
pt. 2 here
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thetargaryenbride · 4 years ago
Text
You Are Worth It [Levi x Reader]
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Summary: You were ready to do anything for this man and if that meant defending him from your own comrades, then so be it.
Set before and during the No Regrets OVA
This is for @vennilavee  ‘s Writing Challange. I had fun writing~ 
This scenario is actually a part of my OC’s story BUT I decided to change it up a bit here and there and make it into a Levi x Reader instead. Enjoy!
Word Count: 7646
Warnings: Violence, Vulgarity, Profanity, some gore, some harassment
Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader
Feedback is deeply appreciated~!
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。 
The Underground.
It was a foul place – lawless – full of thugs, drunkards and creeps. Unfortunately, it was also the home of women who most of the time had no other choice but to sell themselves, it was the home of sick people who only wished to glimpse the sun, and it was the home of malnourished orphans who died like flies in the dirty streets. And nobody was doing anything to help those in need.
Nobody but you.
You remembered the first time you set foot in the Underground. You were just but a little girl, holding tightly your step-mother’s hand as she made her way through the muddy streets, not caring whether her dress would get dirtied. You smiled fondly at the memory. Your step-mother’s friend had lost the rights to her citizenship and was hurdled into the clutches of the Kingdom of Shadows, being forced to work as a prostitute. But the two women kept being friends and your step-mother frequently visited to bring her food. You went only once but it was more than enough to break the pretty picture you’ve imagined – of a place safely tucked below the Inner Walls, with glowing crystals and beautifully shaped stalagmites. It was a hellhole.
You still thought of yourself as a little, naïve girl. You blamed your parents’ coddling. You were supposed to be more aware of the real world as a teen and almost young adult. You wanted to know the truth and the horrors that accompanied each day. That was one of the reasons you also wanted to join the Survey Corps. But you had promised to yourself that you’d join after you face the hell that is the Underground and after you offer some help to those who need it. After all, how could you fight and protect people from the Titans, if you couldn’t even protect them from fellow humans?
“Listen now, little lady, I know that you wanna do some charity shit down here but we also have work to do instead of escorting you. Just because your father is the Deputy Commander-,” grumbled the Military Police soldier from behind you but you didn’t pay him any attention. Instead, your ears strained to hear another sound – a child crying. You hushed the soldier and before he had the chance to give you some scathing remark, you walked away from him and towards the sound. The alleys were too narrow and the repugnant smell of piss and alcohol was heavy in the air but you tried your best to ignore it and kept walking. Turning right, then left, you came to a dead end. And there it was – the child – crouching on the ground with his knees pressed to his chest and little hands rubbing at his eyes.
You approached slowly and knelt down, your gown puddling all around you, the light blue fabric immediately getting mudded and dirtied.
“It’s all right. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you. I got some food too,” you spoke gently as to not startle him as your hand took out an apple from your bag and handed it to the child. He looked at you with big eyes and you offered an encouraging smile. That smile fell off your face the second you heard the clicking of a gun right behind your head. It pressed against you roughly, almost ruining your perfect bun. The child simply stood up and ran away.
“Now, don’t move, pretty thing. We don’t want to accidentally blast your head, do we?” came in a man’s gravelly voice, sending shivers down your spine. You dared not move as you felt him getting closer, his breath tickling your neck. “Ya better get those money ready, lass," he hissed out and you willed your body to stop shaking. It was impossible. Were you going to go out like this? Murdered by some thugs? Were you going to rot in this very same alley? Before you got the chance to see the outside world?
There was a swooshing sound. You closed your eyes, anticipating the worst, but then strangled grunts and coughing was heard, making you snap your head in the direction of the sound. Your eyes widened as you saw the two men fall dead on the ground, clothes soaking with the crimson blood that leaked from their throats, some managing to drop onto your cheek. Your eyes focused on a third man who was cleaning his knife. He didn’t pay you attention as he pocketed it and turned his back on you, ready to walk away.
“W-wait!” you called out and he halted. Let me at least see your face. Let me at least learn your name. “You saved me… I-“ you stuttered out but he interrupted you roughly, turning around to look you in the eyes. He was the most handsome man you’ve laid eyes on. The pampered, powdered noble boys couldn’t hold a candle to his rugged looks and the aura he was giving off. He had raven hair, locks falling around his eyes, pale skin and sharp eyes the color of a stormy sky. His clothes were a little bit baggy but even like this you could tell his body was built nicely so you assumed that he was a thug as well. Speaking of clothes, his were way too clean and pristine for someone living in such a filthy place.
“Don’t waste your breath. Go back upstairs to your gold and fine porcelain. You don’t belong here,” he spat out and your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly stood up, coming face to face with him.
“I’m sorry but you can’t say where I do or do not belong to. Maybe I don’t really fancy the world you speak of,” you told him firmly and his gaze lingered on your for awhile.
“You’re a lunatic then,” were his last words before he walked away.
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
You didn’t listen to the man. One bad experience and some rude words weren’t enough to convince you otherwise. In fact, that made you more stubborn and you soon found your way in the Underground once again. This time you carried a knife. Your grandfather had taught you how to throw them and you regretted not bringing one last time.
The day passed by in a blur. The heavy bag full of bread and left-over pastries from your family’s bakery was now empty and you were ready to head back home and take a long bath. But you stopped when you heard a commotion. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to risk getting caught up in something again. But your heart was beating faster and your body felt warmer the closer the sound got and you supposed that there was some supernatural force that was pulling you towards it. Soon enough, you found yourself in the midst of a brutal brawl. The same guy who saved you a few days ago was being ganged up on. He was surprisingly holding his ground, sending lethal punches and kicks his enemies’ way. But you should’ve known they would fight dirty as one of the members sneaked behind the guy and prepared to shoot him in the back.
Your body moved before you even ordered it to, hand grabbing the knife hidden in the pocket of your dress and throwing it. It embedded into the head of the thug and he fell. Everything stopped for awhile. You could see the two members of the group looking at you with both shock and rage. You could see the surprised expression on the guy’s face, his arm up in mid-punch. Then there was a bang and you felt a searing pain in your middle region. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw was the guy who saved you pummel the remaining members of the gang to death and scream something at you.
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
When your eyes fluttered open, they saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Your first instinct was to stand up and run but your body was too tired and the only thing you managed to do was shift and move your head.
“Finally awake?” came in a voice and you gasped as you saw the same guy. Had he saved you? What exactly happened in the first place? You wanted to ask him multiple questions but the one you settled on was:
“Are you all right?”
He shot you an incredulous look.
“You were the one who got shot, dumbass. Worry about yourself,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows and you let out a weak chuckle.
“You are right… You know, we’ve saved each other’s lives so many times already and yet I do not know your name.”
“It’s Levi,” he answered your silent question and you smiled as bright as you could.
“Nice to meet you, Levi! My name is Y/N! Y/F/N!”
His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at you, a spark of what seemed to be recognition, relief and even fondness could be seen deep within. He uncrossed his arms and walked out of the room. You counted the minutes awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers or clenching and unclenching the sheets, before you finally decided to sit up. It was a struggle. The bullet had got you in the upper stomach but apparently he had nursed you back to health. You noticed that your torso was neatly covered in clean bandages as the blankets slid down a bit, making you shiver at the bareness of your arms. You blushed at the thought of him seeing you like this but nothing could be done. And you didn’t care that much about dignity and nudity when it came down to saving lives – others’ or your own.
Your thoughts were interrupted when he walked in the room, carrying a plate with peeled and sliced apples. For a moment, he stood by the doorframe simply watching you, before he made his way towards you and sat on the corner of the bed, placing the plate on your lap and outstretching his other hand. Your eyes fell on what he was holding and you gasped as memories from years ago flooded you.  
The day when you had been so curious you had begged your step-mother to take you with her. She had agreed and you had made your way to the Underground. You had stuck close to her as she walked into what you now knew was a brothel.
❅ 
“Carol! It’s so good to see you!” exclaimed your step-mom and the other woman chuckled as she gave her a hug.
“You didn’t have to bring so much food again. I’m so grateful to have you.”
You smiled as you watched the two women converse but your attention was stolen by a figure in your periphery vision, making you completely turn around. It was a boy. He didn’t seem to be much older than you. He was wearing a ragged shirt that reached his knees and some worn out pants but his hair looked clean and neatly cut. He watched you shyly, interest sparkling in his eyes as he took in your appearance. He had probably never seen a noble in such a place. You smiled and waved at him and he mirrored you after his hesitation worn off. You took a few steps forward and smiled brightly at him.
“Hi, there! What is your name?”
“Levi,” he uttered and you put your hands on your hips. You probably looked ridiculous – a child with lots of baby fat, trying to look and give off a motherly aura.
“You are very thin, Levi. That just can’t do!” you exclaimed in disapproval as you reached into the bag of food your step-mom had brought, taking out a few apples and placing them in your white apron. You neared the boy and beckoned him to take them. “Here, take these! Dad always says that an apple a day keeps the doctor away!” you grinned.
He gulped and his hands trembled a bit when he took the fruits from you, eyes gazing into your own with such gratitude and respect. And because you were so focused on his features, you noticed some smudged dirt on his left cheek. You clicked your tongue as you grabbed a handkerchief from your pocket and proceeded to wipe his face since his arms were busy balancing the apples from falling out of his grip.
“You got some dirt here. It’s very important to stay clean, you know,” you told him gently and he nodded.
“My mother says the same,” he whispered and you smiled as you tucked your handkerchief in his pocket.
“Then you keep this and make sure to stay clean,” you smiled at him before your step-mom called you and you had to bid him goodbye.
“Wait!” he called out and you looked at him over your shoulder. “What’s your name?” he asked timidly and you grinned at him again.
“Y/N! Y/F/N! It was nice meeting you, Levi! I hope we can meet again!”
But you never met him again. When next time your step-mom had returned from her visit and you had asked about the boy, she said he was nowhere to be found but there was a rumor that one of the women working there had passed away and her child had disappeared.
“We meet again,” you sent him a watery smile as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. You didn’t know why, they just did. You never pegged yourself as an overly emotional person but life was a mysterious companion.
“Yeah,” drawled the man quietly and for the first time since you’ve met, that permanent frown was replaced by a small, soft smile.
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
Since that fateful meeting, your visits to the Underground became more frequent. You didn’t only want to do charity but you wanted to visit Levi. He told you to not come back. That it was dangerous. But you didn’t listen. You wore simpler dresses – not the big, intricate gowns. You tied your hair in a simple ponytail or bun – not the stylish hairstyles screaming that their bearer was a noblewoman. You usually never wore jewelry with the exception of the earrings your step-mother had gifted you, but you took them off during your visits, trying to blend in the best way possible. Of course, you were a woman, therefore it was only natural to attract creeps. But you managed to deal with them. You just wanted to help children and see Levi. Was it that much to ask?
“Eeh! There is a body of water this huge? And full of salt!? I cannot believe it!” exclaimed Farlan.
“It’s true! It’s written in a book that’s been banned by the government! Why do you think they banned it if it wasn’t true!?” you shot back.
“So, you mean to tell us that there are also fields of sand and multicolored lights in the sky in North?”asked Levi while he was focusing on polishing his knife.
“I know it may sound too incredible to believe but I know it’s the truth! I just know it! And I’ll go beyond the walls and see it for myself!” you grinned enthusiastically and Levi’s eyes moved from the knife and onto your form, one eyebrow raised in both question and challenge.
“Hooh? And how are you going to do that? By going on lavishing balls in Mitras?”
“By joining the Survey Corps!” you declared and the silence became so heavy that you could cut it with a dull knife. And suddenly, all hell broke loose.
“What?! Are you insane!? You actually want to join them and go fight titans?!” shouted Farlan as he stood up from his chair and you mirrored him, crossing your arms.
“I’d pick the titans ten times over the political wars we’re waging in the capital and all the hypocrisy and backstabbing!”
“You’re gonna get eaten! Do you really want to face such a death?!”
Their shouting match was interrupted by Levi’s almost frighteningly low tone, making them sweat and gulp.
“Oi, brat... Tell me you’re not serious… Tell me you’re just…in a phase or something,” he said as he put the knife on the table, his attention now fully on you. You sighed as you slowly sat back down on the sofa, a sad smile gracing your features as you looked at the two men. You contemplated but in the end you decided that you had to tell them.
“I’ve been serious ever since I saw my mother get eaten years ago,” you confessed and their eyes widened.
“What?” stuttered out Farlan as he slumped back down on the chair.
“I haven’t told you, have I? I was…five when mom…snapped, for a lack of better word… She told me that she wanted to see the outside world and I… I was so excited!” you gripped the fabric of your dress so tight that your knuckles turned white. “We sneaked outside the walls and… I was saved just on time by a Survey Corps soldier… My mom on the other hand,” you uttered, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. “Shiganshina will always be my hometown. I can’t stay in Mitras. I can’t! My place is not inside the walls.”
“I thought you were… noble,” murmured Farlan and you chuckled.
“That’s half the truth. My father IS the Deputy Commander of the Military Police. Even before that, he was rich and powerful, coming from a family full of soldiers and nobles. The most respected family… One day he met my mom in Shiganshina. He was already married at the time but… One thing led to another and…here I stand,” you explained. “He would send money but I never saw him until…that day,” you gulped but the pain and bad memories were replaced by determination and bravery.
“I’ll join the Survey Corps. I’ll see the outside world. And I swear to you, once I am capable, I’ll get you two citizenship. I won’t let you rot in here,” you stated firmly and the men could only stare at you with both concern and fondness.  
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
In the end, you did exactly what you wanted. You joined the Survey Corps after graduating top of your class. At first you were placed in Ness’ squad but after your first expedition and after you showed incredible skills and potential, you were moved to Erwin’s squad. You proved how great of a strategist you were and you showed them your political skills when it came to dealing with the Royal Assembly. That gained you lots of respect from the higher ups within the Survey Corps. You also built a name for yourself as Humanity’s fastest because all fellow soldiers who’ve seen you fight, including veterans, have said that there was no one faster. You didn’t brag though.  
Now, a year later, you were a squad leader yourself and there were rumors that you would be promoted to Captain. You smiled at the thought. You pushed your body and mentality way over the limits to prove yourself worthy as fast and as efficient as possible in order to gain a title – to gain power – because thanks to that it would be easier to save them.
Just hang on for a bit more, Farlan, Levi. I’ll soon be able to get you out of that hole.
Flagon’s fist hit the table as he growled in irritation, interrupting your thought process.
“Quite frankly, this is humiliating!”
“I couldn’t agree more,” nodded another Section Commander by the name of Deckan Caddel. His demeanor seemed calm but his eyes were glinting with a murderous intent. You never liked him. Sure, he was great soldier. But he joined purely out of revenge and bloodlust – because his father was eaten. He didn’t care about protecting Humanity. In fact, he always had such disregard for people, especially those who weren’t from Wall Sina like himself.
“Are you honestly telling us, who have always held formality in high regard, to accept a bunch of criminals?”
You had half a mind to tell him to chill the fuck out but you bit your tongue. Flagon was a good guy beneath his prejudices.
After discussing the newly recruited members and the formation that Erwin suggested, the meeting was over and everyone left. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Deckan ogling you before he walked off. You narrowed your eyes but brushed it off as you made your way to the private quarters aligned with your office and prepared for bed. Tomorrow morning the said criminals would be introduced to the others and it will be decided in which squad they would be put on.
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
You were…shocked. The criminals everyone were talking about were none other than Levi and Farlan accompanied by a younger girl. Your mind didn’t even comprehend Commander Shadis’ words or the trio’s introduction. You were too busy staring at them, still unable to process that they were here, donning the noble uniform of the Survey Corps. You gulped down the tears threatening to spill and patiently waited for the introduction to be over. While Flagon was busy with subtly expressing his disdain of the three being placed on his squad and sending sharp glances Erwin’s way, you finally managed to gather the strength to come closer and into their line of sight.
The moment Levi’s eyes clashed with yours, you felt like crying and running to embrace him. Your heart started beating faster and your body warmed up after feeling so cold for literal ages. You didn’t know how this man; why this man; had such an effect on you…but you loved it.
His eyes widened and he subtly elbowed Farlan whose attention shifted to where he was looking at. He wasn’t as subtle as Levi though and his reaction was quite open as he pretty much gawked at you. Both men’s eyes shone brightly with fondness and relief.
Even when everyone were dismissed and allowed to go back to their own business, you didn’t. You quietly followed after Flagon as he walked the new recruits to the barracks.
“You two men will sleep here,” you could hear Flagon instructing them from your place in the hallway. “You lot have been living in the dumps of the Underground but do try to keep this place clean,” your eyes widened comically and you almost choked on thin air. Just as you supposed, Levi’s outraged “huh?” followed right away and he neared Flagon threateningly, breaking his personal bubble.
“W-what’s with that look?” stuttered out the man and you decided to intervene before it had gotten out of control.
“Now, now, Flagon, you used to sleep in those barracks too. But you’ve probably forgotten that they always have been dirty,” came in your voice, making everyone’s heads snap to your direction. Farlan’s lips twitched in a smile but Levi’s face was composed. Flagon clicked his tongue.
“And what are you doing here, Y/L/N?” he asked with a sigh and you shrugged, fully entering the room.
“I just came here to make sure you don’t start a fire or something,” you shot back teasingly and he rolled his eyes before turning his back on everyone.
“I’ll leave you to it. And next time don’t try to approach a commanding officer with such attitude. Maybe Y/N will be able to teach you some manners,” snapped Flagon and Farlan tried to salute respectfully.
“Yes, sir!”
“Your hand’s upside-down! You begin training early tomorrow! I expect you to be punctual!”
The moment Flagon was out of sight and earshot you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself at the two men, hugging them tightly. Farlan was quick to return the embrace but Levi froze for awhile, hesitating, before he awkwardly patted your head as you sobbed.
“It’s you! I can’t believe it!” you pulled away and took a good look at them. “You seem healthy. I’m so happy to see you! I still can’t believe that it’s you who Erwin recruited. He must have seen incredible potential! We have so much to talk about-“ your rambling was interrupted by a coughing, making you face the redheaded girl.
“I think we haven’t officially met! My name’s Isabel Magnolia! Nice to meetcha!” grinned the girl and you smiled at her, shaking her hand.
“My name is Y/F/N. It’s pleasure meeting you! You are probably confused as to how we know one another but I’ll tell you everything!” you hooked your arm around hers and tugged her towards the door. “I’ll show you to the girls’ barracks and,” your gaze flickered to the boys, finding Levi’s and holding his for awhile. “I hope I’ll see you two shortly.”
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
You had talked to Isabel until the late hours, telling her about your background, about how you met Levi and Farlan, about your life in the Training Corps and then as a soldier in the Survey Corps. There was so much to talk about and you really wanted to make friends with her since she seemed to be someone very important to Levi and Farlan.
The next day had rolled fast and before you knew it, everyone were up and about – training. The three newbies were to be evaluated today – their skills tested.  
Levi was walking amongst the horses, mind wandering off to the mission at hand. If he wanted it to be successful, he had to play by the Survey Corps rules and one of them was to learn how to ride. Isabel had no problem with it. She seemed to be natural. Then again she has always been an animal lover so he wasn’t surprised at how fast she grasped horse riding. Farlan had some troubles with the horse he had chosen, the mare too feisty for him to handle. And Levi? Well, he still hasn’t chosen one.
“I think she likes you,” came in your gentle tone and he sighed, grateful for the momentary distraction. You came to stand beside him and before he could ask, you pointed ahead, making him focus his vision onto the beautiful black mare that was intently staring at him.
“You know, it’s not only you choosing the horse. The horse has to choose you too,” you told him as you both approached the mare and Levi slowly outstretched his hand, allowing the animal to sniff him before licking it. He smiled when she nudged his hand, beckoning him to caress her.
“Her name is Danika. I raised her,” you smiled and he lifted his eyebrows. “And this is Astaroth. My partner,” you grinned as you pointed to the horse right next to Danika. He was the biggest horse Levi has seen amongst all Survey Corps horses and the only one with such unique coloration.
“He seems a bit…different than the rest,” he mused and you hummed in agreement.
“They had found him outside the walls a bit before I joined. When I tell you he was wild, I mean it. They hadn’t been able to tame him never mind how many times they tried. Then I came and tried. My way. And it worked. He became my partner since then. He’s the strongest and fastest horse in the SC history. Trust me, it’s not easy riding him into battle sometimes but I’ve grown used to it,” you explained and he huffed.
“It’s not only about growing used to it. You yourself are probably a great rider. A natural,” he commented and you shrugged.
“Maybe…Say, do you want to ride together?” you asked and he nodded.
“Sure.”
That’s how you found yourselves riding the horses deep into the forest and away from all the ruckus in the training grounds. You wanted Levi to truly feel and experience the riding and bond with his horse which took some time instead of immediately jumping onto the animal and rushing it into gallop like what most did. And while the silence was comforting, you decided to break it.
“One of the perks about being a part of the Survey Corps is that you get to live surrounded by nature. Just look at it. Look how beautiful and peaceful it is. Fields upon fields and forests upon forest. So much greenery and beauty,” you sighed dreamily and Levi hummed in agreement.
“It’s not bad.”
“At the same time if you get tired of the peace and quiet, you can just roam the halls of the castle or the training grounds and sink into the pleasant noise of soldiers chattering, laughing, eating and training together,” you smiled as you looked at the man. The green shadows the trees cast upon him and the flickering-through-the-trees light bathing him made him look so beautiful, so relaxed…so gentle. Then your thoughts wandered off to a place deeper and darker.
“I still can’t believe that you’re here. That you chose to join the Survey Corps… I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think you guys are ready to be soldiers. Not yet. You need so much training and the expedition is too soon and,” you realized you were rambling so you took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I just…I just feel like Erwin’s offer and your decision will bring some catastrophic consequences. I trust my intuition. It has never failed me.”
“A bit too late for that now,” huffed the man and you bit your lip.
“Why didn’t you wait a bit more for me? I’m sure you calculated almost three years in the Training Corps and then one or so more until I get a higher rank-“
“I thought you were dead,” he interrupted you with a soft, heavy tone that surprised you.
“Eh?”
“There were a few times when I would overhear the MP soldiers talking. They spoke of failed expeditions and death. They mentioned you too. Humanity’s Fastest, huh?” he shot you a wry smile and you blushed but held his gaze as he kept talking, the smile turning into frown. “Not long after, I heard them talking about a particularly nasty expedition that resulted in lots of death. That even you weren’t fast enough to escape.”
“Oh, Levi…It’s…It’s my fault for not finding a way to contact you. Trusting someone blindly and waiting for years is just…not possible or rational,” you looked away and squeezed your eyes, your grip on the reins tightening. Levi shook his head.
“I don’t blame you. It’s not like you could’ve come visit personally or sent letters. So you don’t blame yourself either, brat.”
The following weeks were a pure bliss. You spent all your free time with Levi, Farlan and Isabel, filling them in on everything that had happened throughout the years and helping them adjust to the world above.
But dread came. It came too soon for your liking – in the form of the 23rd Expedition.
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
Your squad was mostly responsible for support and defense. Whenever someone shot a black or a purple signal, your squad was to go and assist the squad that had shot the flare.
That’s how you had clashed with Flagon’s squad and you had to combine your strength in order to kill the horde of titans that had appeared suddenly. It was overbearing and a member of your squad was nearly eaten by an abnormal. It was an aggressive abnormal, like nothing you’ve encountered before. Despite the warnings of your squadmates, you had jumped into action, slicing off its hand and entering its mouth in order to grab the girl’s ankle and haul her out. The tongue had been so slippery from the leaking saliva that you had slipped and half of your body had fallen into its mouth. When your arm ceased holding its mouth at bay, it clamped down – not hard enough to snap you in half but hard enough to cut into your meat. Levi had been the one to save you, slashing at the titan and then catching you as you fell once the monster had released you.
Now he was standing awkwardly to the side, fists gripping tightly the handles of the swords, yet shaking, as you were sitting on the ground, back leaning against your horse who had crouched down to serve as your pillar, with the female soldier you had saved wailing and fumbling with the bandages.
“Calm down, dear, it’s not that deep. I just need you to tie the bandages very hard, ok? Like you’re tying a corset,” you encouraged her weakly but her hands seemed to shake even more. Levi tsked as he grabbed them from her hands and shooed her away silently. He grabbed your arm and carefully helped you up, turning you so your back was facing him.
“Wow, Levi, you sure know how to treat gunshot wounds,” you commented as you observed the way he had nursed your injury. It had been a few days since the incident and you were already able to move. The man shrugged.
“Used to it.”
“I have to return home. My family must be worried,” you muttered as you looked apologetically at him. “Do you think you can help me put on my dress? The corset is a pain and it still hurts when I stretch.”
“Tch, come here.”
“Ouch! That’s too tight!”
“Just bear with it.”
He pulled sharply at the bandages, the sound of fabric rubbing harshly against fabric and skin almost sickening as well as the way your waist and belly seemed to become flatter and flatter due to the force and how tight he was tying the bandages around your abdomen. You kept silent. The only thing you allowed were small grunts of discomfort slipping through your lips.
“O-oi, isn’t that too much?” snapped Flagon but you shook your head.
“It’s better than bleeding out. Besides, I need to go to Erwin and the Commander,” you grunted and Flagon furrowed his eyebrows.
“Elaborate.”
“I don’t like this weather. I have a bad feeling about it. It wouldn’t be wise to keep fighting if it starts pouring. It wouldn’t be a problem for the titans but it will be a major hindrance if we cannot see clearly. I’ll go to the center and talk to the Commander,” you explained while Levi finally finished with bandaging you. Your eyes locked and you exchanged gratitude silently. His gaze stayed longer on your form, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern before he got onto his horse.
“You do have a point. The weather will be very problematic but on the other hand, we cannot cut the expedition so soon. We just left the walls,” reasoned Flagon and you sighed as you climbed on Astaroth. When he felt you on top of him he finally rose to his legs.  
“We can go back and wait until the weather is better, then continue. We are not going to lose anything if we just wait for a bit in Shiganshina.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think that the Royal Assembly will be understanding regarding this matter. They are already up our asses, threatening to defund us at every turn. This will be a good opportunity for them to spit on us yet again,” he growled and you sighed. He had a point, but still…
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Royal Assembly. I can deal with them. But I won’t risk the lives of my soldiers and comrades,” you declared firmly and your squad smiled as they looked at you with love and admiration. You were a great leader and you were already thinking and behaving like a Captain. That’s why you were so deserving of this title.
“Let’s go,” you commanded and everyone turned their horses, ready to gallop towards the center.
“Y/N,” Flagon’s voice halted you and you half turned to face him. He had a solemn look on his face. “You can’t save everyone.”
“I can try.”
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
Flagon had been right. So right about you not being able to save everyone. You realized that as you stared at Farlan’s body – bitten in half and lying in the mud with his intestines hanging. Or Isabel’s head at Levi’s feet. Flagon and his squad’s bodies were distorted and strewn throughout the field alongside their horses. It was a nightmarish sight to see. Even more so than usual. Who would have known that there would be more aggressive abnormals? You wanted to throw up right here and now but you were too focused on Levi. Levi whose raw, pain-filled, raging screams you had heard just a few minutes ago. Levi who was trying his hardest not to cry, yet his tears were still there mixed with the remnants of the rain droplets. Levi who screamed at Erwin, confessing that his true goal was to kill him before falling to his knees, seemingly giving up on life.
After Erwin spoke to him and left alongside his squad, Levi didn’t move from his position, eyes hidden behind his bangs, but you still knew that they were focused on Isabel’s head, probably flickering onto Farlan. Your squad members looked at you worriedly. You were too still and unresponding. They weren’t used to seeing you like this.
You gulped as you took a few hesitant steps forward, kneeling in the mud beside the broken man. The same man who you now, after this gruesome expedition that almost cost you your life, finally came to realize you held feelings for – feelings stronger than what someone would hold for a friend.
You gently took his bloodied hand and his eyes snapped to you when he finally lifted his head.
“Let’s go home,” you whispered as you sent him a small smile and he lowered his head again. Despite all, he allowed you to hold his hand and help him stand up and lead him to his horse.
The journey back to the walls was silent. Levi was to ride with your squad. You wanted to watch over him. You were at a total loss. You didn’t know what to expect from him. Therefore you didn’t know what would be the best way to comfort him. One thing was for sure. You had to be ready for him acting like a cold dick and trying to push you away. You supposed that with personality like his, that behavior was to be expected.
。☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆。
And you had been completely wrong. He didn’t do anything like that. He didn’t push you away. He wasn’t cold. In fact, it was the total opposite. He accepted your comfort. He accepted your affection, albeit hesitantly. He allowed you to be near him and make him company. You didn’t talk much. Just being near one another was enough.
He thought that you were the only person he had left now. Like hell was he going to push you away. He wanted to be strong and go through this alone. He didn’t want to burden you with his pain. He knew you were suffering too. Yet deep down he bitterly admitted that he needed you to be there for him. He needed you to hold him. He needed your reassuring words and your company that soothed the aching throb in his soul.
❅ 
“Do you believe in reincarnation, Levi?” you asked him one night as the two of you were seated on the rooftop, staring into the skies.
“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.
“I do. I believe that this body is just a shell and when it crumbles, our soul leaves and finds another one, either on this world or on another. Just look at the sky! It’s so huge! And I’m sure that there is more behind it, the further you go. Worlds upon worlds,” you smiled breathlessly and he raised his eyebrows, looking at the stars intently, as if trying to see beyond them the worlds you were speaking of. “I like to believe that all my friends who die get reincarnated into a world beautiful and free of titans and get to live normal and happy lives. That’s why I think that there is a certain beauty and relief to death, even if it hurts so much.”
“It doesn’t sound half bad,” he breathed out and you gave him one of those warm smiles that poured light into his heart. The type of smiles that almost had him smile back.
He was probably exaggerating but from now on, you truly were…
His everything.
He didn’t care about anyone else. Why should he? It’s not like they cared either. In fact, they kept calling him a criminal. They kept being rude and condescending, mocking him at every turn. Hange, Erwing and Mike were the only exceptions so far, willing to befriend him and actually putting an effort in doing so. And you of course. The rest of the higher ups kept quiet so he didn’t know how they felt about him. But out of all, there WAS one bastard that just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He always went overboard with his insults and disrespect that even some of the cadets who used to hate Levi thought it was barbaric and had a change of heart regarding the matters.
Yeah. His name?
Deckan Caddel.
But you? You were brilliant. Every time Deckan would insult Levi openly, you would jump in his defense and insult the bastard just as fiercely which would make him glare dangerously at you before storming out. Levi always berated you.
“Tch, I don’t want you getting in trouble, dumbass. It’s not worth it.”
But to you it was more than worth it. So you fought. You fought for Levi.
And everything was good until one night, after waking up from a particularly nasty nightmare, you had rushed out of the comforts of your personal quarters and down the hallways. You wanted to go all the way to the male barracks and seek Levi’s comfort but a figure had halted your journey, making you stumble and almost fall down the stairs if a large hand hadn’t grabbed your arm roughly, shoving you against the stone wall.
“And just where is the little slut going?” taunted Deckan and you wriggled, trying to get out of his grasp.
“Let me go!”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Just who do you think you are, huh, little girl?” his voice sent shivers down your spine as his hands held your wrists so tight you swore you heard the bone crack. “I don’t care whether that sewer rat is your lover or your fuck buddy. You aren’t a Captain yet. So if you continue to oppose me and publically humiliate me just to defend him… I’ll make sure to break the life out of you, you hear me?” he growled as his knee slammed into your abdomen, causing you to groan in pain and cough out bits of blood. Said knee then slid down and came to rest between your legs, pressing onto your crotch and making your eyes widen in panic as your struggling became more fierce. “I’ll break you in every single way,” he drawled and his other hand went to grab your chin, squeezing it tightly. “And then I’ll make sure to suspend you from the Survey Corps,” he spat out and your eyes widened. “Or better yet. Now that I think about it, an accidental fall down the stairs might just do the job for me,” he smirked deviously and you gulped, anticipating his next crazy move.
Before any of you could do anything, a hand shot out from the darkness. It grabbed Deckan’s collar and harshly pulled, causing the man to steer off balance and lose his footing. You watched with a combination of relief and horror how everything happened as if in slow motion – him outstretching his hand in order to grab onto something, his body going further away from you before hitting the stone and proceeding to roll down. A thud was heard some seconds later, followed by a painful groan.
Then the sound of someone’s kick connecting with someone’s jaw echoed through the hallway, finally snapping you out of your stupor as you looked down to see Levi crouching down next to a beaten and bloody Deckan who was barely conscious.
“Touch her again and during the next expedition I’ll personally shove you into a titan’s mouth. I’m done with being silent and taking your shit, you filthy swine,” growled Levi and Deckan could only look in fear through his swollen eyes, barely nodding his head. Levi tsked before he climbed the stairs once again, taking your hand and quickly leading you into your office.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered as he closed and locked the door.
“So I should’ve let that mongrel push you down the stairs?” he spat out and you shook your head. “He deserved what he got. I don’t regret my decision.”
“No, but-“
“Don’t! Just…don’t…” yelled Levi before his voice settled into a pained groan, almost cracking as his head lowered letting the bangs cover his eyes, his body slouching against the door. You knew that look. The vulnerable look. “Please, don’t get hurt…not because of me,” he mumbled. “It’s not worth it.”
You frowned as you approached him. Without hesitation, you took his face into your hands and kissed his forehead before you settled his head onto your chest, arms engulfing his form.
“How many times do I have to say it? I’ll die for you if I have to. Because it is worth it. It is worth it if it’s for your sake,” you whispered into his ear as one hand went to stroke his hair and he relaxed in your embrace, sighing softly as his own arms went around your body, pulling you even closer.
“Live for me instead.”
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cocobeanncteez · 3 years ago
Text
ATEEZ Hongjoong: Tame (Part 3)
Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.
Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)
Word Count: 17k in total, 5k in this part. (Part 1, Part 2, Final Part)
Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex, pulling out, facesitting.
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Three weeks later, you could pretty much call yourself a member of a mafia gang. Well, that's what you were now even if you were in slight denial.
You spent a lot of time with Ateez. Hongjoong taught you how to shoot like a pro, Jongho taught you how to defend yourself if you don't have a weapon, and Yeosang and Seonghwa taught you medical related stuff such as removing a bullet from a body and treating a gunshot wound. Yeosang also taught you the basics of hacking, but you sucked at it. San, Wooyoung, and Aeji taught you how to seduce a target, and you nearly died of embarrassment when you had to practice with Wooyoung as the target. Jiwoo pretty much gave you some of her bubbliness while she and Yeoreum taught you a bit about illegal international business deals. The three girls also told you a hell lot about their sex lives when you all had a girls' night a few days ago. On the other hand, Yunho and Mingi were just playing 'tossing Kiah' (as they call it), which was literally just them throwing and catching you like as if you were a ball. The giants found it extremely fascinating that you were an entire foot shorter than them. Sometimes, they would use the top of your head as an armrest.
Hongjoong bought you a phone, but unfortunately, you couldn't log into any of your social media accounts, or even your email as your cousin and uncle were searching for you and the culprits who made your cousin unconscious the night he was going to sell you.
"Kiah, do want some orange juice?" Mingi asked you from the kitchen while he poured himself a glass. You nod your head and he poured some for you too. Yeosang was there as well, busy eating fried chicken.
"Hey, Kiah?" Mingi called out, making you look up at him. "You never really told us about your parents." He handed you your juice.
"My mother died when I was a newborn," you replied, sipping on your juice. "My father... well, I rarely saw him after he made me live with my uncle. Now no one has seen him in months." Both the boys noticed how sad you were when you spoke about your father. You really wanted to see him; you didn't even know whether he was dead or alive.
"What's your father's name and age?" Yeosang questioned. "I could track him or at least find out if he's all right."
"Moon Dongwoo and he's 49 years old," you answered with a small smile. "Thank you, Yeosang." 
~
After about three hours, Yeosang approached you while you were talking to Aeji and some of the boys. He sat on the couch adjacent to you after briefly greeting everyone.
"So I tried to track your father, Kiah," Yeosang stated nonchalantly. "And I found absolutely nothing."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"There are zero records of him," Yeosang explained, "Like no bank or property details… To put it in simple words, it's like as if he doesn't exist."
You frowned. "So he's… d-dead?"
"Don't know," Yeosang shrugged. "There are no death records either. There were a couple of men with the same name as him, but no one was 49 years old."
You pondered about it for a while. Why would your dad erase all traces of his existence? Even if he didn't, someone else did. But why?
"Wait," you blurted out. "Did you check with the police station? My dad is a cop."
San, who was listening to the conversation, nearly chokes on the sprite that he was drinking. "Your dad is a cop and you're here, living in a mafia gang's house?!"
"I know right?!" Yunho said from beside him and you only shrug in response.
"I checked the police station as well," Yeosang remarked. "Still no records."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "That's just strange. He's a cop, there has to be at least something about him at the police station."
"Hey, don't worry about it, Kiah," Yeosang said in a soft tone, giving you a reassuring smile. "We'll find him."
-
The next day after you woke up, you found everyone seated in the living room, lost in deep thought. You quietly sat beside Jiwoo, wondering whether you should ask why everyone is so quiet.
"That's not a bad idea, actually," Wooyoung said after glancing at you while you stared at him in confusion. What idea was he talking about?
"Yeah, it's a terrible idea," Hongjoong retorted, glancing at you as well.
"Kiah," Mingi starts, grabbing your attention. "What do you think about attending a masquerade party?"
"You mean a mafia masquerade party?" you emphasized.  
"Of course," he replied.
"Ah, it's cool, I guess?" you said nonchalantly; you were getting used to the mafia life, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't like it.
"It's settled then," San stated, getting up from the couch and stretching his arms. "Kiah is Hongjoong's date for the party."
"Knew it," Jongho murmured.
"No," Hongjoong protested. "A lot of people saw her face at the auction. It's a terrible idea."
"Well, it's a masquerade party hosted by our ally," Seonghwa remarked. "No one will try shit even if they recognize her."
"Plus, we're all going to be there. We can't leave Kiah alone here," Yeoreum added and Jiwoo nodded her head in agreement.
Hongjoong sighed. "Fine."
~
"You look gorgeous, Kiah!" Aeji squealed after doing your makeup. Yeoreum just finished doing Jiwoo's hair and started doing your hair.
"Hongjoong won't be able to keep his hands to himself," Yeoreum remarked with a smirk, making you blush.
"I'm surprised he hasn't made a move yet," Aeji said.
"We all know he wants to," Jiwoo mumbled while taking a mirror selfie.
You chuckled. "Nothing has happened yet."
"Yet?" Yeoreum teased you, curling a strand of your hair with the curling iron. "So you want something to happen, huh?"
“I—”
"You obviously do."
You playfully rolled your eyes at her. "Don't accidentally burn my hair, Yeoreum!" The girls laughed at the sight of you getting flustered 
"Kiah, what are you planning on wearing?" Aeji asked.
"The black cocktail dress."
"No, you're not wearing that," she protests. "Wear the red dress Jiwoo got you last week."
You raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"You'll see," she smirked.
~
After all of you got ready and slipped into your respective outfits, you went downstairs where the boys were waiting.
As soon as Hongjoong saw you, his lips parted slightly as he scanned you from head to toe. You were wearing a short, strapless red dress that fit your body perfectly, hugging your curves and exposing your highlighted collarbones. You wore silver wedges that matched the silver necklace around your neck. Your long hair was curled and your makeup was simple yet elegant.
"Hongjoong's favorite color is red, by the way. Thank me later," Aeji whispered to you, giving you a wink before she ran into Seonghwa's arms. So that's why she forced you to wear a red dress. You snorted at Aeji's words before your eyes landed on Hongjoong. He looked absolutely ethereal in his black ripped jeans and white t-shirt underneath the leather jacket he was wearing. You expected to see the guys in suits, considering it was a masquerade event, but it looked like you all were going to a club instead. Oh well, maybe this is how the mafia rolls.
You heard someone clear their throat. "Um, if you're both done eye-fucking each other, can we leave? We're getting late," San commented and Jiwoo laughed loudly at her boyfriend's words. The other eight already left and you wondered how you didn't even notice.
Hongjoong doesn't utter a word; he only approaches you and takes your hand in his, leading you to the garage. You, Hongjoong, Jiwoo, and San were riding in the same car.
San begun driving and the car was filled with Jiwoo gushing about how she loved going for Stray Kids' parties. San told you about how Wooyoung introduced Ateez to his friend, Changbin, and that's how Ateez met the rest of Stray Kids.
After a while, you reached Stray Kids' mansion. The exterior was lit up with blue and yellow lights.
Jiwoo handed you a pretty silver eye-mask and you put it on; Hongjoong wore a red mask, Jiwoo wore black, and San wore gold.
"Alright, let's party!" Jiwoo squealed, pulling San along with her, practically running inside.
Hongjoong wrapped an arm around your waist as he led you inside Stray Kids' mansion, scanning the crowd to see if he could find any of his allies.
"Ah, Hongjoong!" you heard someone say, catching your attention. Hongjoong's arm leaves your waist to hug that person.
"Chan! It's been so long, yeah?"
"Very," he agreed before glancing at you. "I see you've got yourself a girl."
Hongjoong chuckled. "This is Moon Kiah. Kiah, this is Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids." Chan stretched his hand out and you shake it.
While Hongjoong spoke to Chan, Jiwoo dragged you away to get a drink. You wondered how hyper she would be when drunk, considering the fact that she was already pretty hyper when sober.
Jiwoo got a couple of tequila shots and you only downed three.  "Only three?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," you answered with a small giggle. "I have very bad alcohol tolerance."
Jiwoo took her own shots before Wooyoung dragged the two of you to introduce you to the other members of Stray Kids. You were seriously shocked by how young and polite these men were, despite being in the mafia.
"So whose girl is she gonna be now?" Changbin asked.  
"She's Hongjoong's girl," Wooyoung answered, and you giggle at that, already a little drunk.
"Mhmm, yeah, I'm Hongjoong's girl, hi!" you squealed before realizing that Jiwoo suddenly wasn't there anymore. "Where's Jiwoo?" you pouted  
"Probably would've found someone to talk to or she's in some room with San," Wooyoung replied. "Anyway, let's get you to Hongjoong, little one."
"I'm here," you heard a familiar voice say behind you, making you jump a little before you turned around. "Kim Hongjoong, you…” you trailed off, admiring his face even though half of it was covered with the mask. "You're so fucking hot, like what the actual fuck?!"  Wooyoung and Changbin laughed loudly before they walked away, leaving you alone with a slightly stunned Hongjoong.
"How much did you drink, hmm?" Hongjoong asked, looking down at you with soft eyes. You gave him a loving smile while your arms moved to wrap around his neck.
"Three tequila," you mumbled before you suddenly squealed. The DJ started playing one of your favorite songs. "Dance with me," you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, pulling his body closer to yours.
Hongjoong danced with you for a little while, holding you close to his body so that you wouldn't trip and fall in your 5-inch heels. After the song ended, he pulled you to a less crowded area to sit on the sofas. Your heartbeat sped up when Hongjoong made you sit on his lap instead of the free space beside him. You wrapped an arm around his neck while your other hand ran through his soft hair.
"What's wrong with that guy?" you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, glancing at a green-masked guy who was sitting near you, all alone on the floor, staring at the ceiling with a huge smile.
"Probably took LSD," Hongjoong remarked after taking a quick glance at the man.
"Oh," you murmured. "He's a really bad boy. You shouldn't take drugs. Okay, pretty boy?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, amused by the tipsy side of you. He chuckled prettily in your ear, pulling you even closer to him.
"I don't do drugs, love." He places his cold hand on the skin right above your knee. "I'm a good boy," he whispered in a low tone. Hongjoong could clearly see how much he affected you.
"Liar," you whispered in his ear. You place a kiss right below his ear before trailing kisses along his jawline. You stopped at his chin and pulled away. When his eyes met yours, you leaned in, finally pressing your lips against his. He responded immediately, kissing you back like as if there was no tomorrow. You've never been kissed with such intensity before.  Hongjoong's hand that was just above your knee, began to move upwards. You weren't drunk, just tipsy, so you knew what was happening; you were starting to feel really excited as his hand went higher and higher.
You heard someone clear their throat. "Kim Hongjoong?"
Hongjoong halted his actions and pulled away from you to look up at the woman who interrupted him. She had orange colored hair and was wearing a dark blue eye mask.
"Oh? Royeon?" he got up from his seat, making you stand up along with him. He sounded a little excited, and that made you feel a little jealous. Who was she?
Royeon smirked. "New girl, huh?"
Hongjoong ignored her comment. "Kiah, this is my friend, Royeon."
She snorted. "Friend? I'm quite offended by that title, Joongie." she pouts a little before turning to you. "I'm his first love."
You kept a pokerface on. "That's nice. It’s a pleasure to meet you," you said nonchalantly, trying not to sound bothered about the fact that Hongjoong's first love was standing right in front of your face. She was giving you a bad vibe and you absolutely hated how she was undressing Hongjoong with her eyes. You couldn't deny that you had strong feelings for Kim Hongjoong and you were planning on telling him pretty soon.
You turned to Hongjoong with a small smile on your face. "I'm gonna go get a drink," you said, purposely giving him a kiss that lasted a little longer than it should before you left him alone with his previous lover.
You didn't get a drink. Instead, you went outside, exploring the lit up garden in Stray Kids' mansion. The mansion was a little smaller than Ateez's mansion, but was extremely beautiful nonetheless.
You walked to one of the trees that was lit up with blue lights, taking out your phone to take a few pictures of yourself.
"So Yang Daeyoung hasn't been spotted anywhere?" you heard someone say.
"No," another person replied. "He probably escaped to another country or died.”
"What about his child?" the first person asked.
"No one knows what he or she looks like. Anyway, we have to find Yang Daeyoung and his child before another gang does. I heard many gangs are still searching for him… especially Ateez and CIX. We need to get all that information before them."
You were suddenly really interested in whatever the two people were talking about. You mentally reminded yourself to ask one of the Ateez members about this Yang Daeyoung guy later.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone here?" you heard someone say behind you, words slurred.
You turned to face the man who was in a green eye-mask. "Taking pictures as you can clearly see," you answered the clearly drunk man.
He smirked. "I'm Jinseop," he introduced. "And your attitude is really fucking turning me on, babygirl."
"I didn't ask," you stated, rolling your eyes.
He took a step towards you and you didn't move an inch. "You know," he starts, placing a hand on your shoulder while he towered over you. "I heard Stray Kids have a few spare rooms here. How about we go upstairs and—"
"Get your fucking hands off her."
Jinseop rolled his eyes, not even glancing at the person.
"Now," the person growled. He froze when he finally realized who was talking to him.
"O-Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized and quickly walked away, leaving you quite stunned.
"Wow, Kim Hongjoong," you remark in amusement after a few seconds. "You scared someone."
Hongjoong doesn't say anything. He only walked towards you, and you involuntarily took a step back, making your back press against the cold surface of a wall. Hongjoong towered over your short height and you could tell he loved how small you looked next to him.
He cupped your cheek with one hand and places his lips against yours, gently kissing you before trailing kisses down to your neck. Your hands immediately went up to grab his hair while he started to suck and kiss the skin of your neck, making you moan softly. He smirked against your skin, absolutely loving how he was the one who was making you feel good. He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you a little harder than before while his hands moved down to your ass, grabbing it through the fabric of your dress. You gasped at his actions and he takes that opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He pulled away after a few seconds.
"You're all mine, Moon Kiah."
-
Hongjoong led you back inside and you immediately spot his ex-girlfriend who was trying to hit on an unbothered Yunho.
"Yunho," Hongjoong called out and the man looked at him. Royeon's attention was also now on the two of you. "Where are the rest? We have to leave soon."
"I have no clue," Yunho answered.  "Yeoreum just took Mingi to the bathroom. The man drank way too much."
You noticed Royeon glaring at you, her eyes flickering between your neck and Hongjoong's messed up hair; you realized that he probably left a nice mark on your neck. You smirked, loving her annoyed reaction. You wrapped your arms around Hongjoong's waist and he smiled at you, draping an arm around your shoulders. Yunho controlled the urge to laugh once he realized what you just did.
Royeon cleared her throat. "So Hongjoong, did you get any news on Yang Daeyoung?" You felt Hongjoong stiffen a little.
"No," Hongjoong simply replied.
She chuckled. "Oh well. That must really suck for you since all... that happened, huh?" You could tell Hongjoong was going to lose his temper. You were extremely curious about this person, considering the fact that you've heard about him twice in less than an hour. "I bet you're dying to capture him. You would've planned so much to—"
"That's none of your business, Royeon," Yunho stated in a cold tone, cutting her off.
She raised her hands up defensively. "What I'm trying to say is I'd like to help."
"We don't need your help," Hongjoong spat through gritted teeth and Royeon was taken aback. You wondered why she looked shocked; was Hongjoong a complete sweetheart to her or something when they were together?
She cleared her throat, clearly offended. "Alright… come over to my place whenever you want me, Hongjoong," she said with a smirk before she walked away. You scoffed at her words and tightened your hold around Hongjoong who was quite amused by your reaction.
He put a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. "Maybe I should take up her offer, hmm?"
You scowled. "Don't even think about it, Kim Hongjoong. You're mine."
"Say that again, baby."
"You're mine."
Hongjoong crashed his lips onto yours and you kiss him back immediately, loving the feeling of his soft lips moving with yours.
"Oh, they're finally doing something," you heard Jongho say.
"Yeah, I was so tired of hearing Hongjoong whine everyday about how badly he wanted to kiss her," Seonghwa remarked, and you smile against Hongjoong's lips. You pulled away from the kiss, smiling widely at a blushing Hongjoong.
You turned your head to look at Seonghwa. "He was whining about that?" you asked in amusement.
"Oh, yeah, all the time," he answered with a chuckle.
A drunk Wooyoung laughed loudly. "That's not all! Hyung was also complaining about how Hongjoong junior was aching for—" Hongjoong smacked his palm over Wooyoung's mouth, stopping him from exposing him.
"Hey, let him complete," you stated, amused by the whole situation. Hongjoong shook his head in disagreement.
"We have to leave," Hongjoong changed the topic. "Yunho, go get Mingi and Yeoreum. Seonghwa, call San and Yeosang."
"Yeosang's getting some upstairs after so long," Yunho revealed. "He'll be shit pissed if you guys interrupt him."
Wooyoung chuckled. "After so long? He got pussy last week! And he's with the same blonde chick upstairs."
"No wonder he was the most excited to come here," Jongho mumbled.
Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "Well, I want to leave now. Anyone else wants to come?"
"Hyung, you and Aeji can go," Yunho said to Seonghwa. "Aeji's really tired. I'll come with the rest."
Seonghwa nodded and the four of you leave first, walking to one of three cars. Seonghwa had to drive after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors to Hongjoong.
After he began driving, you wanted to ask who this Yang Daeyoung guy was, but you thought now didn't seem like an appropriate time; you didn't want to interrupt the peaceful silence in the car.
You were feeling quite drained out, so you rested your head on Hongjoong's shoulder, trying your best to not fall asleep.
“Sleep, Kiah,” he mumbled, bringing your body closer to his. “I’ll wake you up when we reach,” he said, although he had no plans of doing that.
“Okay…” you closed your eyes, sleep taking over your body within a few minutes.
Hongjoong placed a soft kiss on your head. “I love you…”
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5 months later.
As soon as Hongjoong came back home from his mission and stepped into your bedroom, you ran into his arms. “I missed you so much!” you mumbled against your boyfriend’s chest while he embraced you.
You started dating Hongjoong around three months ago when he finally got the courage to confess that he fell in love with you. To his relief, you were just as head over heels in love with him. The boys sometimes refer to you as ‘the one who tamed his temper’ as Hongjoong didn’t get annoyed very often anymore. You had also grown used to the mafia life, and you often found yourself enjoying it more than you should. You knew almost everything about the boys and the world you were now a part of. They even let you go on missions, sometimes letting you go solo. Hongjoong was always a little hesitant as he was scared something would happen to you, but he was getting used to it.
“I was only gone for a week, love,” Hongjoong chuckled and you sighed.
“It felt like years.” You pulled away from his chest to look at him. You pecked his lips before moving to sit on your bed, your boyfriend mirroring your actions.
“I got you a lot of chocolates,” he said, reaching out to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. “I’ve kept them in the fridge.”
You smiled, lying down while you played with Hongjoong’s hand. “It’ll get over in two days,” you stated, knowing the boys would finish it before you could even grab a piece.
“Then I’ll go back and get you more.”
“I’d rather you stay here with me,” you mumbled, arms reaching out to hug your boyfriend. Hongjoong settled in your embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your hand moved to his hair, playing with his strands. Hongjoong couldn’t help but place a kiss on your sensitive neck, causing a chill to run down your spine. He began placing more kisses on your neck, smirking when he felt you grab a fistful of his hair. He trailed kisses from your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips.
“I love you,” he murmured, moving to hover above you. Cupping your cheek, Hongjoong gazed at you with nothing but love and adoration, making your heart race.
You grinned at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too.” You pulled him into a kiss which he eagerly responded to. Lips moving with yours, Hongjoong took your bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking on it before licking your lip as a way of asking for permission. You parted your lips wider, letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced in a slow rhythm while Hongjoong rolled his hips against yours, making you moan. You gently pushed him away, making him look at you with a worried gaze, thinking he went too far. But you pushed him further, making him lie down on his back before you straddled his hips. Your hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Hongjoong’s eyes moved to your bra clad chest. You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.
“Can I touch you?” he asked. You took his hands, placing them on your chest in response. Hongjoong gently squeezed your boobs, thumbs running over your hardened nipples. He sat up a little so that his face could reach your chest. He placed kisses on your sternum before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on it, licking the small bud. He mirrored his actions for your other nipple, and your back arched in pleasure. When he pulled away, you immediately crashed your lips onto his in a hungry kiss. You involuntarily grinded down on his hard-on, a groan leaving his throat. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, helping you move faster on his bulge.
“I want you, Joong,” you moaned out, making him get harder.
“Are you sure, baby?” he asked.
“Yeah. I want you to fuck me. Please,” you begged. You weren’t a virgin, but this was going to be your first time with Hongjoong.
He only smiled, halting your movements on his bulge. “Let me prep you, baby. Sit on my face.” You got off his lap to take your jeans off along with your panties. Hongjoong also stripped out his clothes, leaving himself bare in front of you for the first time. You involuntarily bit your lip, taking in the sight of his thick, hard cock. He looked absolutely irresistible.
Hongjoong climbed back onto the bed, lying down while he waited for you to straddle his face.
“Are you sure about this?” you asked, a little hesitant to put your weight on his face.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he chuckled. “Sit comfortably.”
You lowered yourself onto his face, making sure you didn’t put all of your weight on him. Hongjoong's hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth. He wasted no time in lapping at your slit, collecting your wetness on his tongue. He moaned at your sweet taste, tongue dipping into your hole, his nose pressing onto your clit. He moved his mouth to latch onto your clit, giving your nub a few sucks before moving back to your hole. “Fuck!” you moaned, hands reaching down to grasp his hair while he fucked you with his tongue. You felt the familiar knot forming and you warned Hongjoong that you were close. He licked up and down your slit, lapping at your clit, pushing you to your high. You moaned out his name while you came on his face and he wasted no time in licking up your juices, a drop rolling down from his lips. When you moved your pussy away from his face, you got wetter at the sight of his lips glistening with your juices.
You moved down his body to return the favor, but he stopped you. “I’ll let you do that another time, babe. But now I really need to be inside of you.” Hongjoong sat up, piling pillows behind him before leaning back on it. “Are you on the pill?” he asked while pumping his cock.
“No…”
He groaned. “I don’t have condoms on me right now. They’re in my room.”
“It’s okay, you can just pull out,” you stated.  
“Are you sure, my love?”
“Mhmm.” You moved to straddle his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance. You sank down on his length, the stretch making you whimper. Once Hongjoong was fully inside of you, you placed your hands on his abs, slowly moving yourself up and down on his cock, coating it with your arousal. Hongjoong bucked his hips up to meet yours half-way. You leaned down to kiss him while you rolled your hips against his. You pulled away and smiled at him before you increased the pace. Your hands reached back to grab his thighs while you rode him. Hongjoong watched your boobs bounce along with you, the sight making him groan. When Hongjoong felt himself getting close, he switched positions, slipping out of you, making you whine. He only giggled, leaning down to peck your lips before he gripped your waist. Without any warning, he slammed his cock into you, making you gasp, your walls clenching violently around him while he fucked you hard and raw.
You gripped the bedsheets beneath you, feeling the knot forming in your lower area. “J-Joong… I—”
“I know, baby, I’m close too,” he groaned out, his thrusts getting sloppy. “You’re taking me so well, fuck.”
Hongjoong moved one hand down to your clit, his fingers rubbing your nub in circular motions. You screamed his name when your second orgasm washed over you. Hongjoong pulled out immediately, spilling onto your stomach. You reached out to pump his cock, milking him dry. Hongjoong collapsed beside you, body coated in a thin layer of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. He pulled you into a sweet kiss a few seconds later.
“That was amazing,” he murmured against your lips. You smiled, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s clean up, hmm? Shower with me?” You nodded, letting him carry you to the bathroom.
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auroracalisto · 4 years ago
Text
for the first time
summary: the reader finally sees her life in a new point of view, thanks to carlisle, who has helped her with her abusive husband, her baby girl luna, and her life in general.  
pairing: carlisle x female! married/widowed! abused! reader
word count: 1.6k words
warnings: female reader, married and eventually widowed reader, reader is abused by her husband, reader has the surname Wolf in this bc comedic reasons, reader has a child named Luna by said husband, mentions of murder, no depictions but carlisle definitely did the stabby stab (at least if that’s what you wanna assume he did), uhhh reader got them widow benefits by the end but that’s a story for another time, ALSO for some reason i put this in the year 2005 and it goes on to 2006/2007?  so this would technically be the same timeline as bella and edward meeting.  so first movie.  yes.  i love the technicalities of everything.  honestly didn’t mean for it to happen but it did so 
a/n: i have no words
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Carlisle first had the honor of meeting you at your then-husband’s Christmas party.  It was December 20th, 2005.  Your child was most definitely due by the end of January.  You were quite literally glowing, and Carlisle believed you were the most beautiful thing he had seen in some time.  However, most of the beauty was because of your skill with makeup.  Without it, bruises galore would be revealed to the outside world, and your husband would not be too happy to find out that you showed off the newest shiner he gave to you. 
Even while pregnant, he did not care for your wellbeing.  Hell, he made it quite obvious that he would never care for the little girl growing in your midsection.  But even if he was a terrible prick, you decided to have this child.  Of course, maybe it would have been better for you to end the pregnancy early on.  However, a part of you didn’t want that.  A part of you wanted to have the baby and leave your husband.  Whichever order it came in would be fine.  But knowing now that it would be the latter made you nervous.  
The second time Carlisle saw you was in the middle of a grocery store, calming down your newborn baby.  Your husband had sent you out in the middle of February, just a month after giving birth.  You were alone, and everything was upsetting.  Your baby’s little cries caused your own tears to well up in your eyes.  
When the two of you made eye contact, you finally broke.  You didn’t want anyone to see you like that, and yet, here you were with your husband’s co-worker, crying in the middle of the bread aisle.  
“Mrs. Wolf, please.  Let me help you,” Carlisle softly said, leaving his buggy on the other side of you.  He came over, looking at your baby.  “I’ll get her to calm down.”
You took his word for it, allowing Carlisle to comfort your crying child.  “Please.  Don’t call me that.  [Your name] is fine.”
He watched you with soft eyes and nodded.  “And who is this?” he softly asked, looking down at the fussing infant.  Her eyes were shut and she never once had actual tears—one thing that never sat right with him was how babies couldn’t form tears until they were about two months old (sometimes even longer).  
“Luna,” you softly spoke, watching as your little girl started to calm down in his arms.  You sniffled softly, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve.  You should have been more careful, but you didn’t care at this point.  It was getting harder and harder to do this; if someone saw a bruise, someone saw a bruise.  
“That’s a beautiful name,” Carlisle spoke, looking back at you.  “She is very lucky to have you as a mother.”
By the third time Carlisle had properly talked to you, your husband had died.  Under mysterious circumstances, but he was gone.  And you couldn’t have been happier.  You had an idea of what had happened.  Especially when you once opened your eyes in the middle of the night to see a flash of blond hair.  But you drifted off back to sleep, not thinking anymore of it until the morning after when your husband was missing.  However, you never once said anything.  
Weeks after he had passed, you had hired a babysitter for the evening.  Carlisle’s two girls.  
And for once, you did not have to worry about the makeup covering your bruises.  In fact, you wore your makeup how you liked it instead of having to wear it to protect your dead husband.  You found yourself sitting in your car, in front of the hospital.  Alice had informed you that her adoptive father was currently at work—that he was constantly working, and he never once took a break.  
Maybe you should have just turned around.  Maybe you should have just left Washington, altogether.  But your legs started moving before you could stop them.  And once you saw Carlisle, you knew that you had to speak with him.  
You didn’t even have to say hello to him for the man to walk in your direction.  He smiled kindly at you, and you wanted to say something.  You desperately wanted to thank him for saving you, even if he never admitted it.  
But the words never found your tongue.  Your arms wrapped around the doctor, your face buried deep in his blue dress shirt and his white lab coat.  Carlisle had never been more grateful for not carrying his clipboard around.  He wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close.  
Although the two of you never said anything, one thing was clear; you were both grateful for each other’s existence.  Even if you lived vicariously through passing glances and thoughtful actions.  
Luna was nearly one by the time you decided enough was enough.  You were a widow, now.  You did not have to worry about what your husband would say.  And one thing was certain; the blond-haired doctor had your heart in more ways than one.  
He was so kind to you, always offering help and joyful smiles.  His conversations carried you through your long days and kept you awake at night as you thought of how you could tell him how you truly felt.  
But now, you knew enough was enough—you knew that you were not getting any younger, and neither was Carlisle (of course, because he was human—of course, you wouldn’t learn that until later).  You needed to talk to him.  You needed to take a course of action.  
You grabbed your keys, walking to your door.  Luna was babbling in her car seat.  You sat it down to get the door open, nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw Carlisle standing there, prepared to knock.  
He had a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and a rather awkward smile.  
“My apologies... are you going somewhere?”
Your cheeks began to burn.  You sat your keys on the table beside your door, shaking your head.  “I was going to see you, actually.”
Luna giggled up at the man when he came into her line of vision.  She adored Carlisle.  
“Oh, that makes this easier then,” he let out a soft laugh, hesitantly holding out the flowers to you.  “These are for you.  I... I had asked Alice what your favorites were.  I hope you don’t mind.”
You smiled.  “No...  No, I don’t,” you said, clearing your throat.  You moved out of the doorway so that he could come into your house.  “I was hoping that.. well, I am hoping this now.  I’ve needed to talk to you.  For a while now.  I really, really need to just get this off my chest, you know?  I just—”
“—could I be of any assistance?” he chuckled softly.  “Perhaps I can find the words that you are searching for.”
You rolled your eyes, unable to keep your smile from forming.  “Carlisle, I’ve... loved you since before my husband died.  I know that for a fact, now.  And I... hope that you feel the same way.  About myself.  And Luna.  We’re a package deal, you know.”
He chuckled softly and nodded.  “I know that you are a package deal.  I... am very glad you feel that way, too.”
“Too?”
“Yes,” Carlisle smiled at you.  “I have loved you since the first time I have set eyes on you.”
You snorted out a laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.  “That long, huh?”
He just smiled, watching you with kind, golden eyes.  “There are many things I need to tell you, [Your name],” he said, finally shutting the front door behind of him.  He looked down at Luna and got her out of the carrier, especially when she happily reached for the man.  “Perhaps we can take this evening to talk?”
You smiled, nodding.  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but yeah.  I’d like that.”
All of you made Carlisle’s beatless heart skip.  He could only hope that it was the opposite for you (he could definitely hear how fast your heart began to beat the closer he got to you).  Luna entertained herself with the buttons on Carlisle’s shirt while the two of you talked until she fell asleep against him.  
Perhaps it was that moment that you truly knew that you were in love with Carlisle.  No—that action only fortified your love for the man.  You knew you had loved him just as long as he had claimed to love you.  And for once, you were not afraid of what love could do. 
Because you believed you loved your deceased husband, you married him.  You slowly watched him become a horrible person.  And then you had Luna with him.  Of course, that was the one good thing that came out of him.  Perhaps the chance of meeting Carlisle as well.  
But you knew that now, the love you felt for Carlisle was as real as the infant in Carlisle’s arms.  And it would never burn like your last loveless love.  
For the first time, it felt like you were seeing yourself in a new light.  You were seeing everything from a different perspective.  And Carlisle allowed that.  Carlisle helped you find that.  
Even if he hadn’t have been there, you would have still found it.  However, you knew that he made it so much easier than it would have been.  
For the first time, you knew real love.  With Luna, and now with Carlisle.  
Despite everything that had happened to you, it seemed as though the universe was finally connecting the dots.  And you couldn’t wait to see what she was going to give you, next.  
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homoose · 3 years ago
Text
Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x reader)
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Summary: Reader tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: hurt/comfort
Warnings/Includes: none
a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave​ for being my beta the past two chapters.
Series Masterlist
———
One week.
That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.
They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Y/N’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.
Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Y/N never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.
He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Y/N was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.
Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.
He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.
No new messages.
He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.
Y/N dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.
She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.
She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.
And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.
“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”
“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”
“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”
She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”
It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.
Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.
Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.
The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”
“Hey, mama,” Y/N breathed.
Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”
She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”
“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”
Despite herself, Y/N laughed wetly. “Oh my god , mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”
“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.
“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Y/N ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”
“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”
“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Y/N admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.
Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost 40 years.”
Y/N heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”
Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”
“It’s complicated,” Y/N hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.
Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”
Y/N dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”
“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.
Y/N closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”
Y/N swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Y/N could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”
“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Y/N’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”
Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Y/N.”
“What if I’m right?” she whispered.
“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Y/N heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”
Y/N listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.
“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”
That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Y/N the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.
The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.
“Hi.”
Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.
His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.
He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.
“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”
He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”
She could barely look at him. “I know.”
He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”
She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”
Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”
“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”
He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.
“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”
He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.
“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”
His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?
“And then I met you, and you…” Y/N let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”
He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?
“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.
He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.
She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”
A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.
She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”
Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”
Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”
“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.
Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”
“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.
“Y/N, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.
She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”
He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”
She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”
“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”
“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.
“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”
Y/N nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”
He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.
“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”
“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”
He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.
“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Y/N. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”
He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”
His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”
She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”
She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “I love you the most.”
“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”
She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”
The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.
… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...
He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”
She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”
He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”
He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.
“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.
“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.
She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”
She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”
They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.
Y/N took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”
Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”
“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes tracked the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”
“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman— and smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast, and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.”
“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”
She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”
Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Y/N.
She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”
She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane that I stayed with him for five years, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was... that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”
He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.
She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on— when someone tells you you’re nothing… you start to believe it.”
Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.
He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”
She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”
He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I’ve had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I’ve been able to recognize the moments when I’m falling back into old thought patterns.”
She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there , and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”
“And then I didn’t answer your call.”
“No, no .” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”
She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and over his heart. “And then he just— left . And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but then you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”
Y/N dissolved back into the couch, an unwelcome indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.
“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”
She gave him a weary nod, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”
He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check and find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”
“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”
He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with her.
“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”
He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”
She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”
He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”
“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.
He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you... I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”
He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”
He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.
“Agree to disagree.”
———
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