#intimidated a bit by how calm and open lisa is with the add on of her being with her older sister hehe

[flowryluv]

Lisa’s birthday countdown (4/15)

[wtfevenismypage]

Observer, Not Profiler PT4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.

Warnings: maybe a curse word or two, mentions of death, anxious/nervous ticking, tic attacks, mentions of rape, mentions of child rape, sassy Garcia

A/N: this is kinda just a filler chapter, the next one will be better!

Drums pound in your ears as you step into Hotch’s office. He used his serious voice to get you in there, which gave you unwanted anxiety. 

Thump thump. Your wrists bruise together as you step into Hotch’s office. His eyes dart up to yours, motioning for you to sit, which you do, sighing as your left palms claps against the arm of the chair.

“Yes sir?”

“You are going to be staying here with Garcia during our next case.”

Confusion poked your ribs, that wasn’t bad at all? Why was he so upset? It didn’t make any sense.

“Alright, is that all? You look upset...”

“An agent from the CIA is coming to observe your performance for this case only. Higher ups are still concerned that you will use the equipment here to get into the government, so they sent an agent to keep you supervised. He’ll try and give you a hard time so that you end up lashing out, but just keep your head down.”

Your eyebrows furrow. A CIA agent? They were sending an agent to keep you in check? You were shocked that they even cared at this point, that was a long time ago, and now you were just an anxiety riddled girl trying to start a new life.

“Oh... Um, I don’t know what to say... Why... They’re sending... Ugh...”

You groan as your neck twitches to the side aggressively. You could already tell that your tics were going to be a bitch until the case was done. 

“This isn’t ideal for any of us, I tried to convince them that this wasn’t necessary, but they refused to listen. I understand that this is going to add immense pressure to both you and Garcia, but I ask that you try your hardest to ignore him and his petty comments that he’ll most likely make.”

“Yes sir...”

He sighs, standing up and patting your shoulder.

“Let’s get to the round table.”

Less than two hours later, your sat next to Garcia in the bat cave, a tall and intimidating CIA agent standing at the doorway to watch your every move. It was distracting ad terrifying to say the least. 

He was originally standing directly behind you, but Garcia saw how purely uncomfortable you were and yelled at him to move back. She really was a savior.

“Alright my dearies, Mr. Paul Ways was married four times, has seven children that were taken from his custody, and has gone through ten dogs that all died within a year of being owned by him.”

Garcia spoke on the video-chat, everyone else on a jet. 

“His laptop is disgusting by the way, purely covered in filmed rape tapes being sold on the black market. Some of it is of children by the way, and the others are of girls that were barely over 18.”

The agent spoke up.

“Is that not illegal what you’re doing? Hacking into his laptop without his consent?”

You grimace, struggling to keep yourself from ticking. Garcia speaks up.

“The laptop actually wasn’t owned by him, it was owned by his husband who gladly gave us consent when he heard that we were trying to catch his husbands killer. Now please stop speaking, it’s taking away time that we don’t have.”

You smile at Garcia, who simply pats your shoulder once and turns back to her computer.

“What about the second victim?”

“That would be a resident arsonist Mr. Rickardson. He set four massive fires to buildings and got the security footage to watch it back. Ten people have died in total because of his fires. The footage of each person’s death was labeled and saved to his computer.”

“I hate to have to ask this, but watch the videos, all of them. Mark anything you can find.”

You groan as they hang up, clicking on the first video of the fire and watching every angle, trying not to turn your head in disgust as the screams of a burning woman fill your ears.

“Oh god... This is horrible...”

You say as you take in the victims information.

“She’s eighteen. Lisa. I can’t... She was... Oh god I’m gonna have a tic attack...”

You stand up and run out of the room immediately, ignoring Garcia’s concerned yells as you plop down on the floor, letting your tics take over. Your wrist slam against each other, your palms smack any wall they can find, and your head just keeps jerking to the side.

The door opens next to you, the condescending agent walking out.

“What are you doing?”

You whimper, knowing this is going to dampen your chances of staying with the team.

“I-I’m having a tic-tic attack... Just... Just le-leave me alone. Ple-please.”

He doesn’t budge, rather than shoo him off though, you opt for the smarter option, letting him witness your break down. And as soon as it’s over, you stands up, looking him in the eye with a furious glare.

“I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me.”

You whisper out before marching back into the computer filled room and plopping back down next to Garcia.

“I’m alright.”

You said it more to yourself than to Garcia, but you clicked on the video again, whimpering, but taking in everything you can.

This week is going to suck.

-

-

-

-

-

You click away at the keyboard of your computer, searching for a Mr. Paul Nees and any information you can find on him. 

“C’mon my sweet computer you, don’t start slowing down on me now.”

The CIA agent is still stalking over you, making sure you don’t ‘hack into the government’ A.K.A jabbing insults into your brain any chance he gets.

“I mean, a little girl like you? You won’t make it.”

You sigh out at his comments continue.

“Why are you so concerned with it? I mean it isn’t your life so, you shouldn’t be so concerned. I’ll survive.”

“You really think you’re gonna be able to survive with those freaky tics of yours?”

You try to make it seem like his words don’t affect you, but they hurt so bad, they seeped into your brain and stuck with you, making you groan as they swim in your mind.

-

-

-

-

-

You were right, it only got worse as the Agent’s constant condescending comments kept sneaking their way into your brain.

“A little girl like you? You won’t make it.” “You really think you’re gonna be able to survive with those freaky tics of yours?”

You had broken down into sobs many times over the week, desperate to avoid the man, but he was everywhere that you went. It was one of the worst two weeks of your life. 

“Just give me a few minutes to myself! Just a few minutes!”

You shout at the smirking agent, tears trailing down your face.

“Why would you need time alone? To hack into the government?”

That really set you off. You didn’t understand how someone so dumb was a CIA agent. It made no sense to you. 

“Are you fucking joking? I spend six years running and you think I’m just gonna up and do it again!? I’m human! I just want to spend a bit of time alone! How is this an issue!?”

“Because you hacked into the government. Of course we need eyes on you. I don’t understand it however. You seem harmless.”

That’s it. You finally crack.

“Oh I’ll fucking show you harmless.”

You lunge at him, trying to tackle him to the floor, but a body slamming into you stops you. You writhe on the floor under the heavy body, trying to get away.

“Y/N. Calm yourself down. Take a breath Y/N!”

It was Spencer, hearing his voice ring out in your ears made you less squirmy, but you were still breathing pure adrenaline. 

“He- I just! He kept!”

You could barely form coherent sentences as the smug smirk of the evil agent poisoned your brain.

“I know Y/N, I know, but you have to calm yourself down okay? I know it’s been rough with him all this time, but just calm down alright?”

You couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears and broken sobs that erupted, but goddammit you were going to try. You struggled to keep yourself from screaming out right then and there, but your brain gave you a second option.

Knock the fuck out dude.

So you did. You passed out right then and there, like no ones business.

-

-

-

-

-

You woke up with a panicky start. Not quite sure where you are at first, but as you look around you realize it’s an empty office. You’re laid out on a couch, a small blanket thrown on top of you.

“Hey, good morning.”

You look up at the voice, seeing Derek, Emily, and Spencer sitting on the table. Concerned expressions on their faces.

“What happened? Is that evil agent still here?”

Derek chuckles, but shakes his head.

“Nah, he’s gone. You managed to get off with a warning by the way. You can’t just attack agents like that Y/L/N.” 

You hang your head low, guilt climbing up your throat, or acid reflux actually. 

“I’m sorry. I was just... Just tired of his constant teasing and all of the comments he made... I know it was wrong, but I just couldn’t handle it anymore...”

There was a small silence, but it ended quickly when a second body sat next to you on the couch. It was Spencer. Spencer who, no matter what managed to stay calm around you and calm you down, Spencer who never raised his voice around you, Spencer who was always so patient with you, Spencer who was currently hugging you.

You tensed up when his arms wrapped around you initially, which made Spencer panic and almost pulls away, but when you sink into his warm chest, he relaxes, letting you cry into the crook of his neck. 

He knew this week was difficult for you, Garcia kept them all updated on how horrible it was, providing camera footage of the agent taunting you, and Spencer hated seeing you so distraught. 

Truth be told, when he saw you again in the interrogation room, his heart stopped at the sight of you. Yes, you looked like you hadn’t slept in years, and yes, you looked absolutely terrified to be there, but he was so entranced by your skill of knowing a person just by looking, he couldn’t notice how much of a mess you looked like.

You were beautiful in his eyes and that was that.

“It’s alright Y/N. You’re alright.”

And for the first time in six years, you believe it.

A/N: I realize that ending makes it seem like the actual end, but oh baby we’ve just begun!

Taglist:

@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @hopebaker​ @thatsonezesty13​ @nightlygiggless​ @aberrant-annie​ @holybatflapexpert​ @spencerreidisbootiful​ @april-14-blog​ @jackryan-plz @kalebtheo​ @ajwantsapancake @lightswriting @emilouu @yourmisosoup @lizziebritish @101donuts @rainsong01 @pretty-boy-genius @squirrellover1967 @gublerstyles @delievia @boxofsparklingmuses @annestine @baby-i-am-fireproof @allthedumbassfandoms @irjuejjsaa @zhangyixingxing1 @madcrazy50 @maryhuffxoxo @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @officialbogbody @m3lly-x @dark-night-sky-99 @eu-solidao @thupidalethea @bad-idea-personified @random-thoughts-003 @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

[billyhargrovefanfiction]

Glorious Results of a Misspent Youth | Billy Hargrove x OFC

SMUT WARNING

CHAPTER THREE part one

‘Where to even start, Andrea.’ The principal says. Andie is sitting in his office. The principal is leaning on his desk – as principals do. Billy went first, with Andie waiting out in the hall. She kept her ear against the door and picked up most of the conversation. Billy had yelled at a teacher about something, which is why he was in trouble, but the conversation was mostly about how Billy shouldn’t drag Andie down with him. To where, Andie wondered, Hell? Billy spoke too softy to hear, but it obviously wasn’t an argument. When Billy came out of the office they both looked pretty calm, so Andie’s plan seemed to have done the trick. It even got the principal’s mind off what Billy was actually in trouble for. Now it’s her turn. ‘Smoking marijuana? I could call the police, Andrea, you know that right?’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ She mumbles. ‘I just don’t understand. You are a good kid, you get good grades. What happened?’ He says. Andie frowns. He obviously didn’t read her file. Her grades are pretty good, but she skips a lot of classes and is almost always late. It’s highly unlikely her file says, “good kid”. ‘Eh… I don’t know, nothing happened, I just messed up I guess.’ The principal looks unsatisfied. ‘But… I’ve learned from this… and I won’t do it again?’ He chuckles. ‘Is that a question, Andrea?’ ‘No, sir. I won’t do it again.’ She repeats. He sighs. She’s obviously not doing great. ‘Look, I know what’s going on here.’ Andie raises her eyebrows. This’ll be something. ‘That Billy is a bad boy and that’s probably very attractive.’ Andie frowns. ‘But he’ll drag you down to a place you won’t like, Andrea. You should stay away from him.’ He says. Andie scoffs, here he goes again with his dragging. She’s getting pissed. ‘I’m sorry, Sir, you can tell me not to do illegal things on your property, and I won’t do that anymore. But I don’t think you can tell me who I can and cannot hang out with.’ The principal crosses his arms. ‘You’re right. But, Andrea, I promise you’ll regret it if you don’t listen to me. Billy is a bad egg.’ Andie feels the rage bubbling up. She stands up and points a finger aggressively at the principal. ‘How do you think the “bad boys” of the world end up like that? Because after one week of knowing them adults like you call them bad eggs and make well-meaning and kind people like me stay away from them.’ The principal stands up. ‘You do not tell me how to do my job. Sit down.’ Andie drops back on her chair, still an angry look on her face. The principal continues, ‘I mean, look at yourself. You start hanging out with Billy and suddenly you are smoking pot and yelling at your superiors.’ Andie takes a deep breath. ‘I have been smoking pot for years, Sir.’ She says in a calm voice. ‘You and I have never spoken before. How can you possibly tell me that I’ve changed? And, by the way, Billy and I aren’t even hanging out.’ The principal goes to say something, but Andie keeps going. ‘I’m sorry, Sir. I shouldn’t have yelled. I won’t smoke weed again and I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I just got angry.’ Of course Andie means none of this last part, but she knows this’ll probably get her out of trouble. ‘Well you can’t say I didn’t warn you, Andrea. And no more pot.’ He says sternly to make himself feel like he is in control of the conversation. ‘No, Sir, I promise.’ Andie says. He sighs. He achieved nothing, but he wants to go home. ‘Alright, you can go.’ She gets up ‘Thank you, Sir.’ She says, and she gets out. Billy is standing right outside the door smiling at her. When the door is closed Billy starts clapping and Andie takes a bow. ‘Thank you, thank you, this one is for all the fans out there.’ She states. Billy laughs. They walk out and down the hall to the exit. ‘For the record, I don’t need some girl going around telling people how I’m secretly a good egg.’ Billy says. Andie laughs loudly. ‘I can’t hear the word “egg” again for the rest of my life.’ She says. They both laugh. When they get to Billy’s car there’s a red haired angry looking girl leaning on the hood. ‘Who’s late now?’ She mumbles when Billy unlocks the door. ‘Get in the fucking car, Max.’ He growls at her. Andie raises her eyebrows. Max gets in the car. ‘That your sister?’ She asks Billy. Billy’s mood has shifted completely. ‘No.’ He says. ‘I’ll see you,’ and with that he gets in the cars and drives off. Andie isn’t even surprised anymore. She’s getting used to Billy’s mood swings.

That evening Andie is eating pizza on the couch watching television. Her mother’s left her some money for the weekend while she was off with her sister God knows where with some men doing God knows what. Actually, that last part Andie can probably figure out. Andie is a little worried, but not about that, she’s used to that. She’s waiting for Sam to come over, but he was supposed to be here a while ago. They were going to watch Magnum P.I. together, but it’s almost over now. She decides to give him a call. His dad answers the phone. ‘Hello?’ ‘Hi mister Briggs, Is Samuel home?’ ‘Yes, I’ll go get him, one moment.’ So he hasn’t even left yet. Andie frowns. Did he forget? ‘Sorry Andie, Lisa is here, and I guess he’s not allowed to talk to you. She said to tell you his Thursday-nights are with her from now on. I don’t think Samuel had much to say about it’ His dad tells her after a bit of waiting. ‘That bitch…’ Andie mumbles. Mr. Briggs coughs. ‘Oh, right, sorry about that.’ He chuckles. ‘That’s okay, Andie, I get it. That girl is extremely annoying.’ Andie laughs. ‘Well, thanks anyway Mr. Briggs. I’ll see you later, that is if the princess allows it.’ He laughs, and they hang up. Andie grunts. She honestly can’t believe Sam is just doing what Lisa says. They’ve been watching Magnum P.I. every week for about three years, and now he’s just going to drop her? Asshole. She sits back down on the couch and watches the rest of the episode. When it’s done she decides to call Rich, but he doesn’t answer the phone. Now could be a good time to ask Nancy if she wants to catch up, so Andie calls her, but the line is busy. She grunts. I should get more friends. She walks back into the living room where she spots the sunglasses from Halloween on the coffee table. She could call Billy? A smile appears on her face and she runs back out and grabs the phone before realizing she doesn’t have his number. She slams the phone back on the horn and curses loudly. She raises her eyebrows, surprised at her own reaction. She just got way too excited about seeing Billy. She shrugs it off. It’s just boredom…

It’s 11AM and someone is ringing the doorbell with a fiery passion, but Andie doesn’t want to get up. She missed the only class she had today. Last night she decided to become a lonely drunk and she drank most of one of her mother’s wine bottles. Not a very good idea as Andie doesn’t really do well with wine. She gets terrible headaches, which she now suddenly and vividly remembers. The ringing just won’t stop. Someone must know she’s home or they would’ve given up by now, so it’s probably Rich. ‘I’M NOT HOME!’ She screams as loud as she can. The ringing stops, but only for a moment. Andie groans loudly. She rolls herself off the bed and gets up. She sleeps naked, so she stumbles into her mother’s room and puts on one of her mom’s twenty bathrobes. Okay, maybe not twenty but it can’t be far off. She walks down the stairs and opens the door. ‘Sam.’ She states to herself. Sam looks angry. ‘Jesus Andie, I’ve been ringing the doorbell for fifteen minutes, I was worried sick.’ Andie raises her eyebrows. ‘I thought not showing up for things we usually show up for was our new thing?’ He walks past her to the kitchen where he gets himself a glass of water. ‘Oh no, don’t worry about me I’m fine. No really, please do come on in, Sam.’ Andie mumbles as she closes the door and follows him in. ‘I came by to apologize for last night, I wanted to call obviously but Lisa wouldn’t even let me do that.’ Sam says, and he takes a sip of his water. Andie rolls her eyes. ‘I can’t believe you let her do this to you, Sam.’ Sam shrugs. ‘It’s just jealousy. It’s understandable right? I mean you, Rich and I have been friends forever, we’re super comfortable around each-other and it’s intimidating to her.’ Andie sits down on one of the stools. She sighs. ‘I get that but the fact that you would just drop your oldest friend for her, without even a call -might I add-, is…’ The doorbell rings again. ‘Dear God, what now.’ Andie says as she gets up and walks to the door. She opens it to reveal Billy. ‘Billy, what are you doing here?’ She asks. Billy is smoking a cigarette, leaning with an arm against the doorpost, looking so casual that for a second Andie feels like she’s the one disturbing him. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and raises his eyebrows when he sees Andie in a bathrobe and Sam standing in the door to the kitchen behind her. He throws the cigarette on the ground and walks right in towards Sam who quickly sits down at the kitchen table. Andie throws her arms up and scoffs. ‘Am I even alive right now?’ She shuts the door violently and follows Billy into the kitchen where he is walking around like he’s a crime-scene investigator. He’s trying to intimidate Sam and it’s obviously working. Sam shoots Andie a look that can only mean “I don’t know what I did but tell my mother I love her”. Andie, however, is not fazed by mister macho man. ‘Billy, what are you doing here?’ Andie repeats impatiently. Billy walks around a bit more and finally sits down right next to Sam. ‘What’s going on here?’ Billy asks softly. ‘Nothing! I just came by to see, I mean talk…’ Sam starts saying, but Andie interrupts him. ‘No, Billy, you first, why are you here?’ She sits down opposite him. Billy looks at her. He’s doesn’t like not being in control, but he’s in a good mood. He turns his body toward her. ‘Well, you weren’t in school today, so I came by to see if you were sick and to confirm our ice-cream plans for tomorrow.’ Sam chuckles and forgets for a moment that he’s scared of Billy. ‘Ice-cream plans with this guy?’ He asks Andie. Billy looks at him, Sam’s face dropping immediately. ‘You don’t look sick.’ Billy continues, still looking at Sam who looks about ready to piss his pants. ‘I’m not.’ Andie confirms. Billy looks at her again. ‘Good. I’m picking you up at 5 tomorrow.’ He says. ‘Works for me.’ Andie says. ‘Okay, so we’ve handled my thing.’ Billy says as he looks back at Sam. Andie rolls her eyes. ‘You can drop the whole “I could crush you with my bare hands” thing, Billy. Sam already has a master.’ Sam shoots her a look. ‘Right, Lisa was it?’ Billy asks Sam. Sam sighs nervously. ‘Lisa doesn’t want me talking to Andie anymore.’ He explains. Billy starts laughing. ‘Yeah, Sam ditched our plans last night so that’s what he came by to tell me.’ Andie adds. ‘I’m just trying to keep my girl happy.’ Sam says defensively. Billy pets him on the back. ‘Don’t worry mate, I can only imagine the kind of pussy that would be worth being someone’s bitch.’ Andie snorts loudly trying not to burst out in laughter. ‘What?’ Billy asks her. ‘She wants to wait until marriage.’ Billy starts laughing loudly. ‘Thanks a lot, Andie.’ Sam mumbles. ‘Oh, come on, Sam. It’s not like it’s a secret.’ Andie says. ‘Besides, you really fucked me over last night. Consider this pay-back.’ Sam rolls his eyes. Billy is still laughing. He has a sweet laugh and Andie can’t help but chuckle along. ‘I can’t decide whether this girl is a bad-ass or if you are a complete ass-wipe.’ Billy says. He looks Sam over once more, ‘Actually, never mind that.’ Sam slaps his hands on the table. ‘Well, I think that’s all the abuse I can handle for a day.’ He says as he gets up. ‘I’ll call you, Andie. We’re good right?’ ‘Yeah, we’re good.’ Andie answers him. They smile at each-other and he lets himself out. Andie looks at Billy. ‘Anything else you came by for?’ She asks him. He shakes his head and leans back in his chair. ‘Not really.’ He says. A moment goes by and Andie raises her eyebrows. Billy does the same. Mental note: social cues are hard. Andie sighs. ‘Well, I don’t know what you’re going to do but I’m making myself breakfast.’ She says. ‘Do you want anything?’ ‘I’m good.’ He answers. Andie pours some cereal in a bowl and adds milk. She tries not to pay too much attention to Billy following her with his eyes. She sits back down at the kitchen table and starts eating. ‘So why weren’t you at school?’ Billy asks her. ‘I drank too much last night.’ Andie says in between bites. Billy nods. ‘Was there a party I missed out on?’ Andie grimaces. ‘I was pathetically drinking alone.’ She admits. ‘Sam ditched me, and Rich wasn’t picking up.’ ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ Billy says with a faked hurt look on his face. ‘I was going to…’ fuck. A smile creeps up on Billy’s face as he raises his eyebrows. She did NOT mean to tell him that. ‘But I didn’t have your number.’ She reluctantly adds. The last thing Billy needs is an ego boost. He chuckles, and walks over to the kitchen counter. He grabs a pen and writes his number in the phonebook. ‘There you go,’ he says, and he sits down on a stool. ‘you’ll never drink alone again.’ Andie finishes her cereal in silence and put the bowl in the sink when she’s done. When she passes Billy on her way back to the table he suddenly grabs her waist and pulls her to him. She gasps. ‘Where’s your mom?’ He asks softly as he moves his hands up her waist and to her back slowly. Andie smiles, ‘Gone.’ Billy pulls her to him and they kiss. It’s a different kiss this time. It’s soft and slow. Andie moves her hands up his arms as he starts moving his hands back down to her waist and up her stomach. It is at that moment that Andie realizes she is wearing a bathrobe and nothing else. She squeals and pushes herself away from him just as his hands move under the belt that holds the bathrobe together. She stumbles back against the fridge and her bathrobe falls open flashing her complete body to Billy. She quickly wraps the robe around her and she starts blushing furiously. Maybe he missed that? His big eyes tell her otherwise. Oh, God. It's not that she’s ashamed of her body, but in the kitchen in the early afternoon while he still has his jacket on really isn’t the sexy vibe she was going for. ‘I…’ She doesn’t know what to say. Please just say something. ‘I didn’t…’ Nope, it’s not happening. Billy gets up from the stool. ‘Billy, could you just go, this is really uncomfortable.’ She finally mumbled. He raises his eyebrows. ‘Why?’ Andie laughs nervously. She doesn’t really know why. ‘I… I don’t know I just forgot that I was naked under here and you are completely clothed and... I don’t know’ She stammers. He chuckles and takes off his jacket, throwing it on the floor. She frowns, what is he doing? He takes off his shirt. Oh. He walks up to her and gives her a soft kiss on the lips. He grabs the bathrobe belt and Andie clings on to the robe for dear life. He ties it firmly. Andie gets a surprised look on her face. ‘You are beautiful, by the way.’ He whispers and he gives her another sweet kiss on her lips, and one on her chin, and on her neck, and on her lips again. Andie moans softly, kissing him back on the last one. Her embarrassment is starting to fade. Then Billy grabs her hands and puts them on his belt. He breaks the kiss. Andie hesitates. ‘Go on,’ he says to her. She unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans. He grabs her face and kisses her again, a bit more forceful this time. She matches his intensity and pulls his jeans down slightly over his ass. He kicks his shoes off and breaks the kiss again pulling his jeans down completely and kicking them off as well. He’s just wearing his boxers now. He wraps his arms around her and lifts her up sitting her down on the kitchen counter. She kisses him, but he doesn’t kiss her back. Instead he squads down. He grabs one of her legs and kisses her ankle. It tickles. He starts kissing up her leg. When he gets to her knee he pulls her toward him a little bit so she’s sitting on the edge of the counter. He kisses slowly upward her inner thigh. Andie starts breathing more heavily with every kiss. She strokes his hair softly, parting her legs and with them, the robe. When he gets to her groin, Andie moans softly. He smiles and kisses her folds once before starting to lick her clit. Andie throws her head back and grabs at his hair. He responds by alternating the licking with some sucking. Andie moans loudly. She’s been with a couple of guys but only one of them had ever agreed to go down on her. She had liked it, but it didn’t feel nearly as good as how Billy is making her feel right now. He definitely knows what he’s doing. He strokes her legs with his hands moving up under her rope all the way to her hips. She leans forward a bit and strokes his back. Billy makes a low growling noise. He starts licking a little faster and sucking a little harder. Andie leans back again. He moves one of his hands back down and slides two fingers inside her slowly. Andie’s breathing starts getting faster. ‘Come for me, baby.’ He says in his husky voice. He curls his fingers and keeps licking and sucking her clit at the same strong pace. He feels her getting close as her muscles tighten around his fingers. She wants to say something but all she can manage is his name. ‘Billy…’ ‘Come, Andie.’ He tells her and, at the sound of her name from his lips, she does. The waves of pleasure wash over her like no orgasm she’s ever had. He keeps going for a while until Andie tells him to stop. He stands back up and pulls her in for a kiss. She tastes her own salty cum and kisses him back eagerly. She is starting to feel dizzy and breaks the kiss to catch her breath. She smiles at Billy and he smiles back at her. He reaches for her belt again and unties it. The robe falls open reveling her breasts to him. He strokes them softly, running a thumb over her nipples. He then puts his arms around her and lifts her off the counter. He sets her back on her feet. He kisses her again and pulls her naked body against his own. She kisses him back and starts rubbing against him. Billy moans into her mouth but then he grabs her shoulders and pushes her back carefully. ‘I have to go.’ He says. Huh? He turns around and grabs his pants, putting them back on. He doesn’t zip it up, that’d be a little painful right now. ‘What? Why?’ Andie asks him. She’s confused. ‘I have to pick up Max from school, schools out early today.’ He tells her as he puts on his shirt. Here they are again. Andie completely naked and Billy fully clothed. He sits down on a chair to put his shoes back on. Andie makes no move to put the robe on. He gets back up and looks at her. ‘You’re just going to leave? We’re just done?’ She asks him. Billy sighs. ‘Don’t be a child, Andie. I don’t have time for whining.’ He kisses her, but she doesn’t kiss him back. The bruise on her arm from Halloween catches his eye. It’s starting to fade but it’s still very noticeable. He runs his fingers over it. ‘Did I do that?’ Billy asks her. Andie doesn’t answer him. He sighs again. He picks up her robe and wraps it around her. ‘Look Andie, I’m not good with the touchy-feely shit, okay, so honestly I don’t know what you want me to do right now. I have to go get Max, I can’t have her telling my dad that I didn’t pick her up again.’ Andie doesn’t respond. Billy rolls his eyes. He grabs his jacket and walks out leaving Andie behind.

CHAPTER THREE PART TWO 

[atombooks]

Anonymous

The Big Bad Blog ~ Monday 26 September

There’s an empty chair in Form 4, Year 13 today.

The news has spread like wildfire: Eva Pieachowski is missing.

Our school is in shock.

Eva. The star girl at St Martin’s. She’s taking five A levels in English, Economics, History, Geography and Art, and she’s top in every subject, yet Eva’s no square – anyone who has ever partied with her knows that. With her long blonde hair and bewitching brown eyes, it’s no wonder that she was scouted by a modelling agency on a trip to Paris. She only did one contract – for Topshop – before dropping it in favour of her studies. She’s captain of the netball and tennis teams, tipped to be voted head girl in our elections next week, and at the end of Year 12 she was awarded the trophy for Star Pupil. The prom is still nine months away but it’s pretty obvious who will be chosen as queen.

She was last seen on Friday night at a party held at Rob Pennington’s house. Rob’s parties are notorious. So what happened? Did Eva run away? Is she lost? Is she playing a game? Or has something terrible happened to her? We all know that Eva’s recently started to hang out with the wrong crowd . . .

Hopefully all is well and Eva’s gone to stay with a friend and forgotten to tell her parents. Let’s hope that tomorrow her empty chair is filled.

COMMENTS (2) Lisa – ‘with her blonde hair and bewitching eyes’ – what is this, a Mills & Boon? *cringe*. Tristan – hey, I like this blog. I want to know what’s happened to Eva. Thnx for keeping us up to date.

Chapter 3

Luke

‘Tell me about you and Eva,’ DI Jackson says. ‘She’s your girlfriend?’ We’re sitting in a cramped interview room. A videocam squats in the corner, recording us. Jackson has the most intimidating stare. My hands itch for a pencil. If I was going to draw him, I’d capture his lizard eyes, which laser me for minutes at a time without blinking. Drawing always makes me feel better when I’m tense. ‘What’s happened to her?’ I ask. ‘Or maybe Eva was just a friend,’ he goes on, ignoring me. ‘A friend you have a crush on?’ ‘Yes, she is my girlfriend,’ I assert, my cheeks warming. Why do people always assume a girl like her wouldn’t go for a guy like me? ‘It’s serious between us, we’ve been dating nearly nine months. We’re in love.’ ‘Really?’ He looks surprised and I swear there’s a sarcastic flicker in his eyes, as if all teens ever do is play Spin the Bottle and snog and lack the depth to ever feel anything deeper than that. At least my anger smoothes away my stutter. ‘We have something really special.’ More surprise. His pen hovers above the page for about a minute, until I’m ready to grab it and fling it across the room. Then he writes something down. He’s left- handed and his handwriting is loopy and slanted; impossible to read. ‘Are you writing a greetings card?’ I ask. ‘I’m sorry?’ ‘You’re writing down that we have something really special?’ Once I say the words, I know they sound bad. I have such a big mouth. Mum’s always warning me: ‘You always speak and then think and it’s too late once you’ve said it!’ ‘Sorry,’ I say quickly. Detective Jackson folds his arms. ‘You think this is funny?’ ‘No! I don’t!’ My voice is too loud and I try to turn down the volume. My fists are clenched in my lap. ‘I just don’t get what’s going on. Where’s Eva?’ ‘You tell me,’ he says. ‘I haven’t seen her all weekend,’ I say. ‘I last saw her on Friday night at a party and then I was helping my mum with family stuff on Saturday and on Sunday I went over to see Rob.’ ‘Rob?’ His pen scratches another note. ‘The guy you were beating up in the toilets?’ ‘We were play- fighting,’ I correct him. ‘We were just messing around! We were pretending to be superheroes. I was Batman and Rob was the Green Lantern – well, he wanted to be Spider- Man, but you know.’ ‘I’m sorry?’ ‘You know, the Green Lantern. He’s the lame hero nobody likes.’ I figure that Jackson isn’t the type to ever go to the movies; it would be far too much fun for him. ‘I see.’ Jackson makes another enigmatic note and I swallow. I wish I could be like Rob. He’d know just what to say. If he was here, he’d already know what Eva’s been up to, and would be shaking the policeman’s hand and arranging a game of bloody golf or something. I’m no good at dealing with adults, especially ones in positions of authority. ‘And you’ve had no contact with Miss Pieachowski since Friday?’ ‘Well, I did call her but she didn’t pick up, so I figured she was mad at me.’ His eyes flicker. Oh. I shouldn’t have said that. ‘Can I have a drink of water?’ My tongue feels thick in my mouth. ‘In a minute. First, tell me why Eva would be angry with you.’ ‘I . . . She . . . it was just . . . ’ ‘Let’s begin with Friday. Did something happen that might make her angry with you?’ ‘Well, a bit. Kind of. I mean, we were getting on really well to begin with. We went to Rob’s house as he was giving a party. He wanted me there cos we’re good friends.’ ‘Except when you’re attempting to break his nose,’ DI Jackson says drily. Before I can defend myself, he goes on: ‘So, did Rob’s parents know about this soirée?’ ‘They were away for the weekend, so . . . ’ ‘What time did you get to the party?’ Time? I don’t own a watch. I use my mobile sometimes tocheck the time – and usually find that wherever I’m meant to be, I’m late.

‘I think I picked her up around eight- thirty.’ I don’t add that I had to collect Eva at the bottom of her road, so that her parents didn’t see me. That might sound odd. ‘So it would’ve been soon after that.’ ‘Did you drink at the party?’ ‘Ah, just a bit. I had a beer, maybe. I know you got me for reckless driving earlier this year, so of course, I was being careful. Eva drank more.’ ‘I haven’t forgotten the reckless driving. So, you and Eva fell out? She got upset?’ ‘I don’t know about that . . . anyhow, I left the party at, I don’t know, eleven – no, maybe ten thirty. I’m not sure about the time. I left before she did.’ ‘You didn’t drive her home?’ ‘No – she wanted to stay and I didn’t.’ ‘And you weren’t worried about her?’ I stare at the desk, chewing on my lip, when there’s a knock at the door. The female sergeant is standing there. She gives me the strangest of looks – a kind of moon- eyed double take. Then she beckons Jackson over and whispers in his ear. Jackson nods. He turns to the camera, announces the time and says that the interview has been suspended, before switching it off. Then he tells me to wait here and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him so hard that the vibrations shiver and echo through my plastic chair. ‘Fuck,’ I say out loud. I’m starting to worry that this is more serious than a silly Dare or one of Eva’s wind- ups. I wonder if I need a lawyer. Then I remind myself that me and the detective are basically on the same side, right? We both want to make sure that Eva is okay. I resist the urge to fold my arms over the desk, bury my head in their nest and nap. I’m scared I’m still being watched through that glass window, even secretly recorded; I try to force an expression of calm neutrality. It’s hard to think straight because I’m so bloody hungry. This morning I opened the bread bin to find a loaf so green with mould that I couldn’t face scraping it off. Matt and Freya, who are three and eight, started to cry for their breakfast. Mum was already at work, cleaning down at the church, so it was my turn to sort them out. I said they could have Coco Pops, but when I opened the packet, there was nothing but brown crumbs. They cried all the way to school, until I went into the newsagents and bought a Twix, making them swear to share. That was the last of my paper- round money, so I had nothing left to buy my own breakfast. Fighting Rob took the last of my energy. Breakfast seems like it happened days ago, not hours. I should be in English right now, discussing Robert Frost’s poem about the silent woods. But here I am, in a police station, wondering what my girlfriend is playing at. Maybe it’s Eva’s idea of revenge. Recently her games have started getting more and more out of control, even cruel. The door swings open. DI Jackson comes striding back in and sets my Nokia mobile down on the table. ‘On Friday night, you have ten missed calls from Eva, between eleven- thirty and one- thirty,’ he says sternly. ‘Ten? I didn’t think it was that many.’ ‘She also left some messages which you haven’t listened to. I think you should listen to them now.’ What? How the hell has he got access to my messages? I know all you have to do on a Nokia is press 121, but surely that’s not even legal without a warrant? I forget everything when I hear Eva’s voice, tinny on the loudspeaker, raw with rage: ‘I hope you’re happy now Luke. Thanks to you, I’m out here in the cold, again – not the first bloody time, is it? I need your help, please, please, help me, please . . . ’ I freeze in horror. And then DI Jackson plays the next. Eva’s voice is a shrill scream and it goes right through me: ‘Luke – you can’t do this to me! I have to get out of here! Please, please, stop hurting me, stop . . . Help, help me!’ Silence. ‘Oh my God! Did someone hurt her?’ I cry. ‘I don’t know, Luke, that’s why you’re here. Were you the one who hurt her? It’s not clear who she’s referring to. It sounds as though you’re the one she’s mad at.’ ‘God no, it must’ve been someone else.’ ‘Are you sure about that? Why didn’t you listen to these messages? Why didn’t you call her back?’ ‘Like I said, I did call her!’ I protest. ‘You haven’t checked properly. I did call her – it was Saturday, or maybe Sunday morning. I – I felt bad and I called at some point. I can’t remember when. But it just went to voicemail and I – I didn’t want to listen to her messages because I couldn’t face them. She wanted to break up, okay? I thought she was just leaving them to tell me to f—, I mean, to go away.’ I stare at the phone again, Eva’s voice echoing inside me: Please, please, please . . . ‘I’m really worried,’ I say. ‘She sounds terrible – is she okay?’ But DI Jackson just looks at me as though I have all the answers.

Chapter 4

Rob

I stand outside the police station, listening to Mozart’s

Symphony No. 40 on my iPhone, wondering why the hell

Luke is taking so long. In the last period before lunch, I was

disturbed to find Luke still hadn’t been released from questioning,

so I decided to come and find him. He’s been in there

a good three hours . . .

Finally, he emerges, hurrying down the steps. I’m unnerved

by the expression on his face: he looks as though he’s just sat

three exams in a row.

When he spots me, he jumps in surprise. He looks so

touched that I feel a flash of guilt: Luke thinks I’m here just

for moral support.

He gives me a huge hug. I can feel him trembling and I pull

away sharply. Just what the hell went on in there?

‘Luke,’ I say, ‘we need to talk.’

We spot a Starbucks down the road and head towards it.

Luke’s silent for about a minute and then he spills everything.

As I hear him describing Eva’s messages, my stomach clenches.

I don’t have a good feeling about this.

‘I’m pretty freaked that she might have been kidnapped or

something,’ Luke concludes. He’s blinking hard, and surreptitiously

rubs a tear from his eye.

We sit down with our lattes and Luke makes a flippant

remark that it’s unlike me to cut class. I can tell he’s trying to

lighten the atmosphere, but I have to tell him that this is no

laughing matter.

This is serious.

Luke’s right: I’m a grade- A student. I never skip school.

Next month I have an interview at Trinity College,

Cambridge to read History. After that, I’m going to work in

the banking industry for ten years. I’ll stand as a Tory MP at

the age of thirty for the Wimbledon constituency. By the age

of forty, I’ll be prime minister. I’ve got it all mapped out, and

if you think I’m crazy to decide all this at the age of seventeen,

then remember: Maggie Thatcher went to Oxford knowing

that she was destined to be PM, and look how far she went.

Luke’s biting his nails savagely and I gently swat his hand.

So then he takes a napkin, spreads it over his knee and starts

sketching caricatures of people in the café. For a moment I’m

distracted, marvelling at his talent. Most of the time, Luke

looks awkward in his body, but when he starts drawing, his

whole physique changes, becomes fluid and serene.

‘Luke,’ I say, swallowing. ‘We have to think ahead. If they’re

seriously worried about Eva, then the questions are going to

start. She’s been missing three days – if she just wanted to

scare her parents or do a Dare, she would have been gone a

day, max. So this is serious. They’re going to come after us

and they’re going to want to know what happened at my party.’

Luke’s pen pauses. He looks peevish, as though I’m being

selfish to worry about us at a time like this. I feel sorry for

him. He still hasn’t figured out how life works. Once when

I was a kid, my dad took me to the park and showed me the

ducks on the pond. ‘See how those ducks over there are

pushing the sick duck away? They don’t want to be held back

by him, so he has to leave the group. That’s nature. Survival

of the fittest.’

In some ways, Luke’s such an old soul, with his dad in

jail and the way he’s had to father his siblings, but in many

respects he’s terribly naïve. He doesn’t know how to handle

adults; that’s why he’s in so much trouble at school. And when

he’s in an intense situation, instead of playing it cool, he tends

to blow his top. He once joked to me that he’s never quite got

the hang of ‘how to bullshit like a bourgeois’. To be honest,

that’s what always drew me to Luke. St Martin’s is full of posh

toffs; I find his down- to- earth manner refreshing. But now it

could screw us both.

‘Look,’ I say, ‘what about what we all did at the party in

the – bathroom? And when we . . . you know . . . ’

‘You should be a spin doctor, not an MP.’

‘Luke, I’m serious! Don’t you get how bad this looks for us?

I still have that video on my phone.’

Luke pales. ‘Can’t you delete it?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Maybe?’ His pen digs into his napkin, ink spreading, ruining

his sketch.

‘I’ll delete it if you just agree to work with me on this. We

have to make up a story about my party, we have to rehearse,

and we have to get that story straight.’

Chapter 5 Eva’s Diary: 1 June 2016

It’s weird – I would never have thought of writing a

diary before. It always seemed a bit last- century to

me, the sort of thing you expect girls in a Jane Austen

novel to do because they’ve got all those hours to fill

scratching out their heartfelt emotions about the latest

guy with a big *house*. But a famous writer gave a talk

at our school where he said it was good to write every

day, even if you just keep a diary. He said that writing

is like a muscle and you have to keep exercising it. And

since I want to be a famous writer, I figured I should

follow his advice.

I’m not sure where to begin. I’ve started all jokey

because laughter is sometimes the only way I get by

these days. I’m flippant all the time. I’ve made such a

mess of everything, got myself in such a tangle. I know that sooner or later I’m going to fall off this tightrope

I’m walking. In the meantime, I just keep going to

school every day and getting my ‘A’s and keeping my

dad happy and smiling at everyone.

I guess all the trouble began at the start of 2016.

That’s when I first noticed Luke.

I was walking across the playground with my best

friend, Siobhan. We were on our way to Economics and

there was all this shouting and noise. Well, I love a

good drama, so I dragged Siobhan over to the crowd.

Everyone was chanting, ‘FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!’

That’s when I saw him. Luke Jones. I’d never really

noticed before how handsome he is. He’s very tall and

well built – not in a fake, steroid, too- many- trips- tothe-

gym kind of way – he’s naturally fit and strong.

He was messing around with another guy; they’d

both pierced holes in their Evian bottles and were

shooting thin sprays of water at each other, howling

with laughter. I stood there, hugging my books to my

chest, and he looked up with his amazing blue eyes and

grinned at me. It was such a wild, dangerous, sexy grin,

like a big cat daring me to play with him. He swept his

dripping hair from his forehead. Then he blew me a kiss.

‘In your dreams, Luke,’ jeered Mark, the guy he was

play- fighting.

Siobhan put her palm to my cheek and made a

sizzling noise.

‘Don’t tell me you like Luke,’ she said. ‘He’s a bad

boy, Eva. Don’t go there.’

I’d started to get bored of going on dates with guys.

It always followed the same pattern – he’d send me a

flirty text, we’d go to see a movie, he’d make me hold

his sweaty hand, he’d try to kiss me in the last half,

and it would carry on like this for a few more dates

before I got restless. None of them had any character.

They were all so nice. Maybe a bad boy was just

what I needed.

When I started telling my girlfriends that I had

a crush on Luke I got a secret thrill from seeing the

surprise on their faces. By choosing Luke, I was finally

saying to the world, I’m not the angel you think I

am, there’s more to me than that. Because that’s the

trouble with being me. Everyone sees me but nobody

*sees me*. They only see sparkle and glitter. They can

never perceive the shades in me, because I can only be

one colour, and it’s some kind of sickly, bright pink.

Several of my friends were convinced it was some

kind of philanthropic gesture. As though I felt sorry

for Luke, that he was my project and I’d be the one to

change him.

I think I did change Luke, but not in the way

everyone thought. I knew he was a bad boy but

I underestimated him just the same as everyone

underestimated me. When I got to know him, he wasn’t what I expected at all. And by then it was too late––

I want to write more but Dad’s calling me for

dinner. Oh God. I have to go down there and pretend

everything’s fine. For once my surface glitter is handy.

OK. Deep breath. Down I go . . .