#this one's a bit old but i was so proud of that wheel chair

[wolfythewitch]

Hephaestus design?? Pretty please?? 🤲🤲🤲

Fire arm go brrrr

#esthers moth #wolfy tedtalks #this one's a bit old but i was so proud of that wheel chair #big thanks to my friend who helped me find a site that could customize them for reference

[somethingubercool]

my petite protégée (bau x reader/spencer x reader)

Y/N is new to the BAU and works under Garcia. she finds herself being able to see something in the case no one else does, impressing the team, including a specific doctor

this is fem!reader but i will try to make my fics more gen later. in requests btw, if you would like to, please specify what gender you would like the reader to be

genre: fluff

word countL 8.7k

trigger warnings: just regular criminal minds stuff

A/N: So, this took a different turn, a fluffier turn. Originally this was gonna be an angst fic but then I was in a cute mood so. Tell me if you guys want me to continue the Techie Reader series because I would be happy too.  Also, the reader is around 20, and I’m placing Spencer at 26-27 so there is a bit of an age difference, but not too much. This is around season 3

 UPDATED A/N: I wrote this in 2020 and then deleted it when I deleted my old Tumblr. But, I was really proud of this fic, so....here it is.

 This system was far more complicated than what you’ve practiced with when you were at the academy, but you shouldn’t be too surprised knowing the kind of equipment that the FBI tended to use, it was all taught to you at The Academy.

 “And I’ve developed all the software myself!”

 In addition to the fact that the software was designed by Ms. Penelope Garcia herself.

 “This is...amazing,” You gawked, eyes scanning over the array of code Garcia so gracefully decided to show you, whether it was for you to study or be in awe at. Either way, you were doing both, leaning forward in order to scan your eyes over as much of the sequences as you possibly could, although you doubt you would remember it all. You were intelligent, IQ of 159 and almost perfect grades throughout all of your schooling, but you were better with making connections and remembering numbers than memory, so even if you wanted to remember all of Garcia’s code, it was nearly impossible

 “That’s right, stare in wonder!” Garcia exclaimed in a grandiose tone, to which you nodded intrinsically, the blue hue of the laptop flashing into your eyes as you scanned the computer one last time.

 “I am in wonder,” You replied directly, turning around in your rolling chair to look at the extravagantly dressed woman in all of her glory. “But how long did it take you to program this?”

 “A magician never reveals her secrets, Y/L/N.” Garcia replied ominously, to which you gave her a deadpan stare before bursting out into a smile and shaking your head playfully.

 “You’re the boss.” You whispered back, spinning around in your chair once more so you would be facing the computers, hearing the rolling of another set of wheels as Garcia pulled up an extra chair next to you.

 “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to someone telling me that, although it feels nice.” She giggled, smiling at me before pulling the keyboard closer to her and entering whatever information was needed in order to pull up the FBI’s security page. As you read through the page, you could see all the requested information pertained to you, and even before you could reply with the needed responses, Garcia began to type.

 “Do you have a middle name?”

 “Ah--”

 “Oh, wait. Never mind, I know that.” She scrolled further down the page.

 “Age?”

 “20.”

 “Oh! You’re a youngster, younger than Reid even.”

 You did not recognize that name but decided to not inquire about it.

 “Address?”

 “3--”

 “Oh wait, I know this too. It was on your introductory paper.”

 You begged to wonder why she was asking you these questions in the first place if she knew most of the information, but frankly, you didn’t mind spending time with Garcia so you plainly allowed this to happen.

 “Alright, all your information is in. You’re now my protege, my little bear.” You giggled at the nickname as soon as it left her mouth.

 “Little bear?” You asked, raising your eyebrow amused.

 “Cause you’re cute.” She replied, making you pout appreciatively at her. Yeah, you definitely did not mind spending time with Garcia. 

 “So, what exactly am I supposed to do as your petite protege.” You asked, smirking at her when she raised her eyebrows appreciatively at you for your french,

 “Well, mon petit ours, the BAU will be calling into us multiple times for references, further research on specific dates, events, records, anything regarding the situation at hand or regarding a potential witness or unsub.”

 “Unsub?” You asked, confused.

 “Unidentified subject. The bad guy.”

 “The bad guy.” You confirmed, signaling her to continue.

 “And sometimes, multiple members will call me at once, I’ll be too popular.” She exclaimed playfully, causing you to giggle again at her antics as you nodded in understanding. “So that is where you step in, my little bear. If I am currently researching a topic or on a call with another one of our special agents and am too busy to respond, they can call you.”

 “And I can research the topic as well.” You asked in an attempt to confirm your position, which Garcia affirmed with a single nod.

 “Exactly. I’m going to make a copy of my system to a whole new set of monitors that they should be bringing in tomorrow. It probably would have been here today but--”

 Suddenly, the door was yanked open, shining a bright light into the relatively dimly lit room, causing both you and Garcia to squint and shield yourselves from the scorching rays.

 “Garcia, we have a new case.” You heard a female voice say, one that you were too preoccupied shielding your eyes from to see. 

 “But there is a new case,” Garcia completed, sighing in relief when the blinding ray of light shrunk away as the female voice closed the door. As soon as your eyes were safe, you were able to unfold yourself from your shielded position and look at the source of the voice and the beam of light, a beautiful, petite blond woman with her arms crossed, a manilla folder in her hand, and an amused smile being the origin of it all.

 “Aww, JJ! No sudden lights in the Batcave!” Garcia whined childishly, pouting at the woman, presumably JJ, who was now approaching the two of you with an entertained look in her eyes. She shook her head at Garcia as she leaned against her chair and held the manilla folder up at Garcia’s face. The moment Garcia’s eyes landed on them, they filled with dread.

 “Please tell me this is just penny thievery.”

 “Serial murders.” The woman replied flatly, causing Garcia to shut her eyes in discomfort.

 “That isn’t penny thievery.” Garcia groaned, taking the manilla folder in her hands before throwing you an exasperated sigh to which you sympathetically smiled at. It was at that moment that JJ finally acknowledged you properly.

 “Agent Jennifer Jareau, nice to meet you.” She greeted you, taking your hand in a simple shake as you smiled at her.

 “Y/N  Y/L/N. Techie.” You replied jokingly, to which Agent Jareau seemed to appreciate, smiling at you in a pleased manner.

 “She’s my little protege.” Garcia commented, replying in an exaggerated French accent that caused all three of you to giggle.

 “How old are you, by the way? You seem young.” She asked you, scanning your face as you politely smiled at her. 

 “I get that a lot. Contrary to popular beliefs, I can legally drink within a year.” You replied with a small smile, to which Agent Jareau tilted her head in acknowledgment.

 “Can you believe it? She’s twenty. A literal baby.” Garcia whispered to Agent Jareau, however, clearly with the intention for you to hear, causing you to roll your eyes at her comment. 

 “Again, can legally drink in a year. In Europ,e I can do it right now.” You retorted playfully, smiling at Agent Jareau, shyly, who simply chuckled before nodding her head towards the manilla folder in Garcia’s handande gesturing towards the door.

 “Come on, we need to talk to the rest of the team.” And with that, Garcia got up and prepared to head to where the team was, you presumed, leaving you perplexed on whether you should stay put in the room or follow Garcia and Agent Jareau, not wanting to intrude in places you didn’t know if you were even invited to. However, Garcia answered that question for you rather quickly, stopping her movements in order to spin around at her heel and point at you definitively,

 “You should come with.” She stated, to which you looked back at her with wide eyes and an unknowing stare, baffled to what exactly is taking place. You could see that Agent Jareau had paused and look behind her in the corner of your eye, waiting for the both of you. You gawked at Garcia once again.

 “Ahh...am I allowed to?” You asked dumbly, looking between Garcia and Agent Jareau for a concrete answer. Jareau fixated her eyes on Garcia who looked at you as if you were equally the most precious and most ridiculous person alive. 

 “Of course, you are. But, ah, just for investigation’s sake, why don’t you just sit so that we can give you the information precisely.” Garcia stated, looking back to Jareau for confirmation, to which she nodded and smiled at.

 “Sure.” Jareau simply added, waiting for both you and Garcia to catch up with her. Pushing yourself up from the chair, you adjusted your top before walking towards Garcia, who threw you a proud smile and hum as both of you caught up with Agent Jareau and headed towards the briefing room.

 “We call it the Roundtable,” Garcia whispered to you as the three of you started to mount up a set of stairs, your eyes preoccupied with scanning the numerous amounts of desks and workers around you, watching in awe. Even though you strived to work here one day, called even before you fully graduated, you still could not believe that you were now part of the Bureau. All those sleepless nights where you agonizingly worried if you would ever make it, finishing reports and projects on just caffeine alone, striving to be a part of the Bureau, none of it seemed real now that you were actually there. To you, all of this was insane.

 “And this is it.” You were pulled out of your internal monologue by Agent Jareau’s voice, quickly fixating your eyes on the glass door that separated you and what seemed to be a round table surrounded by various chairs, propped a few feet away from a large screen and projector. Well, at least it fits the name.

 “Come on, we have to set everything up before the team comes in,” Garcia said to you, taking your forearm gently and guiding you inside the room, to which you quickly pushed open and examined your surroundings. Wow, you were actually there.

 “Can you two set up the monitors while I inform the team?” You heard Agent Jareau ask, causing you to turn your head around and stare at her with wide eyes. 

Holy shit you were going to meet the team.

 “Yeah, gotta call everyone in so we can stare at photos of dead bodies like any other Tuesday.” Garcia chirped sarcastically, causing Agent Jareau to throw her a playful, exasperated look while you let out a faint giggle. With that, Agent Jareau left the room, leaving you and Garcia to set up the monitors.

 “Alright, mon petit ours, let’s do this!” Garcia instigated with an encouraging exclamation, to which you smiled and replied to with a slightly less optimistic exclamation of your own. Garcia could have told you to be more cheerful, but you were convinced that she saw your nervousness and decided that what you gave was sufficient. “Can you start setting up the monitors while I get the photos together? I’m gonna transfer you the file so that you can upload it to the monitor from your computer.”

 “Why can’t we just connect the monitor to your computer?” You question with knitted eyebrows, to which Garcia smiled.

“It’s just basic training.” She stated simply, to which you snickered.

 “Doesn’t everyone know how to set up a monitor?”

 “You’d be surprised.” She said with an underlying tone of exasperation, making the smile on your face grow larger. Once you connected the monitor to your computer, you opened your account and waited for Garcia’s transfer, which happened immediately after you opened the account. You looked up at her in playful shock when the little ding exclaimed from your computer. “I’ll teach you how to be fast and efficient later.” She said with a proud smirk.

At that moment, the glass doors of the room were swung open, causing you to jump slightly in shock. In walked four individuals, of them only two recognizable to you, them being Agent Jareau and SSA Aaron Hotchner. He was the one who you first spoke to when you walked into the Bureau, and although he was quite stoic and straightforward, he was nice to you. When you two made eye-contact, he gave you an acknowledging nod, and you gave him a respectful one back, smiling quickly before turning your head towards the laptop, quickly downloading the slide-show that Garcia sent to you before projecting it to the monitor. Once you had finished, you looked up and sent Garcia a nervous smile, to which she sent you an encouraging one back.

At that moment, you could feel two pairs of eyes staring at you, belonging to the other two agents you didn’t recognize, one of them being a beautiful, raven-haired woman and the other a handsome, darker-skinned man, both of them looking between you, Hotchner, and Garcia expectantly. SSA Hotchner turned to Garcia, who jumped into action, walking over to your place in front of the monitor, near the table, and placing two hands on your shoulders with a firm grasp.

“My Power-Rangers, this is Y/N  Y/L/N. Our new Techie and my petite protegee!” She introduced, making you blush at the sudden attention before bowing slightly, one of which you found embarrassing because who even bows in America before straightening yourself and throwing a nervous smile to the two agents. They both gave you polite smiles, the raven-haired lady coming up to you and holding out her hand.

 “Hi, Agent Emily Prentiss.” She introduced, to which you replied with a soft smile before taking her hand and giving it a shake. The male agent followed, holding out his hand as well and throwing you a comforting smile.

“Derek Morgan. Nice to meet you Y/L/N.” He said, smiling as you shook his hand with a slightly more relaxed demeanor now that introductions were essentially over. You pulled away from them and looked at each member of the team, smiling nervously before tilting your head sideways to look at Garcia, who gave your shoulders another encouraging squeeze before you spoke.

“I look forward to working with everyone.” You said politely, to which Hotchner nodded, Agent Jareau smiled, Agent Morgan gave you an amused nod, and Agent Prentiss spoke up.

“Can I ask how old you are? Sorry, you just look so young for someone to graduate from the Academy.” She questioned, looking between Garcia and you for an answer. Before Garcia could explain, you decided to interject. 

“A-actually, ah, I didn’t.” You explained, fumbling slightly as you attempt to elaborate on your response. “The, ah, the BAU was looking for another Technical Analyst to help with the spike in crimes, and, ah…” As you felt your words start to lag, Garcia gracefully stepped in and finished the elaboration for you, thankfully.

“And now she works under me, haha! I am the master.” She explained in an overexaggerated tone, one that made you giggle and relax, in alliance with how Penelope’s jokes usually made you feel.

“That she is.” You agreed, pushing yourself to make a playful comment. Agent Morgan gave you a smile for that, and even that slight gesture made your tension lessen.

“Well, we can all get to know each other later. Right now, we have a case.” You heard Agent Hotchner say, and immediately, your demeanor changed, becoming serious as you nodded at him and walked over to the computer you set up near the monitor. Garcia returned to her respective laptop, pulling a chair to sit in between Agent Morgan and Agent Hotchner as Agent Jareau handed out files to each member of the team. However, you could not help but realize that there were two extra files in her hands after she finished giving each agent their file. Neither you nor Garcia needed one.

Shaking your head slightly, you decided to not dwell on the miniscule detail and focus on the case, pulling up the slideshow Garcia had sent you before reaching for the remote near your hand, handing it to Agent Jareau who thanked you politely and gestured towards the empty chair at the table, inviting for you to sit. You took the invitation, kindly, and watched as various images popped up on the monitor. What you saw, what was presented to you, the team, caused you to flinch and divert your eyes for a second, before you realized that you yourself would now have to see these images almost weekly, daily even. So, stomaching your disgust, you turned back to the monitor and laid your eyes upon the images of the bloody and brutal girls presented on the screen.

“Two days ago, 26-year-old Lina Turner was found dead in her own home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Her face was mutilated along with her sex-organs.” You tried to suppress the gag that was coming up your throat when you looked once again at the monitor, photos emphasizing the consequences of the gruesome acts committed flashing before you before the images switched to an entirely new woman, this one with red-hair and of short stature, contrasting the previous woman presented on the screen, who was a slender, yet tall brunette.

“Only thing consistent with the victimology is the fact that they’re females.” You heard Agent Morgan state, his eyes fixating on the two photos of the woman now displaying next to each other on the screen.

“Well, considering the fact that they’re both females and their sex-organs were mutilated,” Emily shook her head in empathy and disgust. “the unsub could be male?”

Your head tilted down as you reminded yourself what the term meant, mouthing ‘unidentified subject’ to yourself before turning and looking back up to the other agents. For a split second, you saw Agent Jareau smile at you endearingly before returning to the table.

“The women were also objectively attractive and fit, coupling that with the mutilation to their genitals, we could most likely have a sexual sadist on our hands.” Agent Hotchner said as he read through the files.

“Well, nonetheless, Philly PD wants us there as soon as possible.” Agent Jareau informed, to which Agent Hotchner closed his case files and stood up from his seat, nodding to Agent Jareau who turned off the monitor and handed me the remote with a quiet thank you. “Wheel’s up in 20.”

“Where are Reid and Rossi?” Agent Prentiss asked, causing your ears to quirk up and your eyes to land on her in confusion before glancing back at Garcia, who acknowledged your confusion with a smile.

“At the Academy. They’re giving a lecture.” Agent Hotchner informed, pushing the leather through the latches of his satchel before heading towards the door.

“Oh boy, Reid trying to talk to a group of young adults, that’s gotta be fun.” Agent Prentiss joked, snickering at Agent Jareau, Agent Morgan, and Garcia who all seemed to share the same opinion and knowledge on a subject you were completely oblivious to.

“At least he’s got Rossi,” Agent Jareau sighed, cradling her files in her hand before catching up with Agent Prentiss.

“Hey, Y/L/N, shouldn’t you be in class now too?” Agent Derek said as he turned towards you, a playful smile on his lips that you internally, greatly appreciated, but externally, you still donned a look of surprise.

“Ah, yeah.” Confidence, Y/N, confidence. “Should probably tell my professor I won’t be able to finish my programming project by tomorrow.” You joked, earing various laughs, chuckles, and snickers from the present agents in the room, causing you to feel accomplished.

“Hope he’s not angry,” Morgan added, leaning against the door.

“Ah, he might be, but I’ll just hack into his computer and delete all his files.”

“You can do that?” Agent Prentiss asked, slightly alarmed. “Those are files secured by the bureau.”

You grinned leisurely and shrugged your shoulders. “It wasn’t too hard.”

“Wasn’t?” Agent Prentiss gawked.

“Uh oh, with her you two are double trouble, mama.” Derek exhaled, to whom you assumed to be Garcia, who let out a chuckle before walking over to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, which you easily relaxed into, feeling quite comfortable with her now, already.

“Apparently all you have to do to get a government job is hack into the government,” Garcia added, leaning her head against your shoulder, causing you to giggle.

“What a simple task.” You replied, sarcastically, causing Agent Prentiss to shake her head in disbelief before smiling at you.

“Oh, I like her.” She commented before pushing open the doors and heading down towards her desk, Agent Jareau laughing at the whole interaction before catching up with the dark-haired agent.

Agent Morgan looked between you two, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before letting out a quiet chuckle in content. “You two are gonna completely destroy the office,” he said before pushing open the door with his shoulder and turning outward. “See ya later, Baby Girl. See you later, Pretty Protegee!” He called as he walked down the hall and towards the stairs, leaving Garcia smiling and you with a slight blush on your cheeks, a grin plastered over your face as well.

“Pretty Protegee?” You asked, turning towards Garcia with a wide smile.

“Ah, he does that with a lot of people. Although, I will admit—well, gloat,” You snickered at this. “That I have the most nicknames. But yeah, he does that a lot. Its one of his endearing qualities.” She explained, causing you to nod in understanding.

“They’re really nice,” You commented, before remembering something that irked you earlier. “Who are Rossi and Reid, by the way? There names were mentioned before and Agent Jareau had extra files in her hand so, I assume they were for them.”

“Ah!” Garcia exclaimed, wrapping her arm around your bicep as she placed her computer under her arm and started to lead you towards the door, your laptop and file already in your hands. Rossi is this, like, super-rich author who was actually one of the original starters of the BAU. He kind of retired to work on his books, which are like uber-famous, by the way, but came back not too long ago.” You pouted in acknowledgement as she fed you the information, walking across the catwalk with her and towards the elevator. “And Reid—he likes to be called Doctor Reid, by the way.”

“Is he a Doctor?” You inquired, pressing the elevator button corresponding with your floor.

“He has like, 3 PhD’s and can read a bazillion words per minute. He’s super smart, like Einstein smart.” She ranted, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke.

“Einstein discovered the theory of relativity, Garcia.”

“Well, Spencer has an IQ of 187!”

That shocked you, the piece of information donning on you as you both ascended to your chosen floor, your mind trying to rap around the thought.

“Jesus Christ…” You gawked, looking at Garcia with wide eyes.

“Yeah, he’s an actual genius.” Garcia cemented, wide eyes mimicking yours in empathy. You shook your head in disbelief before the doors of the elevator opened, allowing the two of you to step out and head towards Garcia’s lair.

“How old is he? You said he was young.” You asked, opening the door for her, which you thanked you kindly for before walking in.

“Twenty-six.”

“You’re kidding…” You whispered, eyes wrapping around the idea of working with a genius. Of course, everyone in the bureau was intelligent, but people easily get wrapped around by numbers, and you were quite enamored.

“Yeah,” Garcia said, waking up her computers before taking a seat in her comfy chair, and you had followed close after.

“Hmm, does Morgan have a nickname for him as well? Young genius? Einstein?” You asked, opening the case file as you started your laptop back up.

“Yeah, it’s Pretty Boy.” She said with a chuckle, causing your head to spin around in interest.

“Pretty Boy?”

“Cause he’s pretty!” Garcia giggled, spinning towards you in her chair, her fingers fiddling with the fluffy end of the pencil that she decided to pick up.

“He’s pretty?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow before turning back towards your laptop, which still had Garcia’s presentation displayed on it. You quickly exited the screen, shivering in disgust at the memory of the photos.

“Yeah…” There was a slight quirk in her voice that did not settle with you well.

“…Garcia.”

“Why are you so fixated on the fact that he’s pretty?”

“I’m not, Garcia I don’t even know him!” You defended, although you don’t know why you were defending yourself at all, but the slightly upbeat in Garcia’s voice pushed you to explain yourself as if you were caught doing something wrong.

“But the fact that he is pretty interests you.”

“Garcia, again, I don’t know him.

“I think you’d like him, my petite protegee. He likes Star Trek and reading and a whole lotta sugar in his coffee.” She giggled, turning back to her monitor, causing you to stare at her in defense as your mouth moved and contorted to spit out explanations and excuses that never came. Instead, you decided to sigh defeated, slumping in your chair before you loaded your file up to the presentation you desperately hated by knew you needed to look at, quickly skipping towards the ID photos of the two victims before you opened up your case file.

A beat of silence went by.

Screw yourself for being inquired by this guy.

“…so, he’s a nerd?”

Another excruciating beat went by.

“Yeah, he is.” A pause. “Are you into nerds, Y/N?”

You do not know how this escalated so fast, but god do you wish you could turn it back.

* * *

“Your magic oracle is here to serve you, oh wise one.” Garcia said as she picked up the phone, causing you to burst out into laughter behind her, earning a playful glance before she turned back around towards the phone. “Ignore my petite protegee, she has lost all her magical senses. Whatcha need?”

You heard a faint question of ‘petite protégée?’’ from the other end of the phone, and as much as you wanted to stop yourself, you could not help but wonder, Reid? However, logically, the voice sounded too old to be Reid, and by process of elimination, assuming that it’s not a Philly officer due to how the voice seemed genuinely confused by your presence, you concluded that it was Agent Rossi. Though, you cursed yourself for allowing even the thought of Reid to slip through your mind.

“Baby girl, can you look up to see if any of the victims recently had a plumber or any kind of manual worker come to visit them recently?” You heard Morgan on the line ask, and even before you could glance at her, Garcia had started to search away, which at this point you should expect.

However, what you did not expect, was for the other desk phone to ring.

Quickly, you looked at Garcia for guidance, who paused her furious typing to stare at you in expectance, encouragingly nodding at you to pick it up. You pushed yourself off your chair to reach for the phone, bringing it up to your ear in preparation.

“Hel—”

“Garcia can you check to see if the victims all went to the same school?”

The sudden question surprised you, causing you to become speechless as your nervous mind attempted to connect with your mouth and form concrete setences.

“Ah…”

“Garcia?”

“Ah…I’m not Garcia.”

“You’re not?”

Process of elimination.

“No, I’m her new assistant.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Spencer Reid.”

“So, I’ve heard.”

“Y-you’ve heard about me?”

Your nerves released themselves via soft chuckle as you awoke your laptop from sleep mode.

“Garcia told me a lot about you.”

“What did she say?”

‘Reid.’ It was faint, quiet, but it definitely came from Agent Hotchner, the firmness indicating for Reid to be punctual and to not become distracted by whatever you two were doing. It seemed like the two of your snapped out of your weird trance simultaneously, your fingers hovering over your keyboard and phone placed on speaker as soon as Reid started to talk.

“R-right! Sorry. Y/L/N, can you see if the three victims went to the same high school?”

At this point, you could barely feel the keys on your keyboard as your fingers aggressively typed away, pulling up various records of the victims before key-searching on education and diplomas.

“Same high school.” You concluded, surprised by the connection.

“That’s what I thought.” You heard Reid whisper on the other line, but you were certain that it was more towards himself than you. “Thank you, Y/L/N.”

“No problem, Reid.”

Then the line suddenly cut, and you were left in slight dazzlement at the little interaction you got with Doctor Spencer Reid, the man whose voice was too soft and adorable to be true.  

You turned agonizingly slow in your chair back towards Garcia’s direction, dread evident through your body as your eyes fell upon her plotting grin, her smirk putting the Chesire-cat to shame.

“….what?”

“What was that little thing you two had in the beginning?”

You let out a groan in dramatic agony.

“Garcia! I barely know him!”

“But you seem smitten.” Her last word was too punctuated for you to be comfortable, so you threw her a sharp glare before turning back towards your laptop and pulling up your programming exam.

“Oh, you are not going to ignore me!” She exclaimed behind you in offense, to which you have an exaggerated shrug of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Garcia, but I have important matters to attend.”

“Oh, this is not over, missy.” She let out an offended gasp, and you bit your inner cheek to inhibit yourself from letting out a chuckle as you loaded up your Java program.

* * *

“Your oracle is ready for you, sir.” You heard Garcia say into the phone, your seat rolled up next to her as you both leaned in towards the device, the entire BAU team compiled on the other end.

“We looked through various records and backgrounds, but no one seems to fit the profile.” You heard Agent Hotchner explain from the other end, Garcia immediately pulling up the information you two have collected on the victims and previous suspects so far. Still, it seemed as if the team has got gotten anything conclusive, and since the last time you called, apparently, another body was discovered in a hotel room, more brutally mutilated than the others.

‘He’s evolving.’ You remembered Doctor Spencer Reid say in a previous phone call, only meaning that the situation was getting worse and the team was running out of time.

“Okay, let’s get over what we know so far,” You heard Agent Morgan start, speaking to both the team and the two of you present in the computer lab. “This unsub is efficient and quick,”

“He sexually assaults the victims, humiliates them,” Agent Prentiss added, disgust and fatigue evident in her voice.

Wait.

“Mutilates their bodies and their faces, so he has something against their looks” Agent Jareau voice emulated from the speaker.

Why is it…

“All the victims are from the same college, so the unsub is connected to them in that means. Former student or staff member?” Reid threw, voice questioning.

Why can’t it be…

“These girls were all pretty and popular, maybe he was upset that they made fun of him, or never dated him?” Rossi tried, hoping to find something, anything to add to the case.

Hold on.

“Why do you keep saying that the unsub is a ‘he’?” You interrupted, much to the surprise of Garcia, who looked at you, taken aback, and to the silence of the team, which you interpreted as surprise as well.

“…what do you mean, Y/L/N?” You heard Hotch ask through the phone, causing you to become flustered by your outburst, voice wavering slightly as you attempted to justify yourself.

“I-It’s just—” You felt Garcia’s hand squeeze your shoulder, helping ground you, and you took a soft breath before speaking. “You guys kept talking about how the unsub was neat and efficient. You said it was most likely a sneak attack, right?”

“Right, but the preference in females and in relationship with their sex organs—”

“Lesbians exist, Prentiss.” You interrupt, causing both you and her to chuckle slightly before continuing. “But, it doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“You think it might be revenge?” You heard Agent Rossi ask, and before you responded, you pushed yourself away from Garcia’s desk towards your laptop, opening up your closed device and pressing on the various files that you researched during the case.

“So, I got bored when you guys didn’t call us,” You heard Agent Morgan let out a chuckle. “And I started looking into the victim’s high school backgrounds since Doctor Reid mentioned the fact that they all went to the same school.”

“You can just call me Reid.” You heard him tentatively say from the phone, and you forced yourself not to react to Garcia’s smirk before continuing.

“Okay, since Reid mentioned the fact that they all went to the same school. These girls were the queen bees of the school, the Heathers, the Regina Georges.”

“The what?” It was Reid again, and you could not help but let out a giggle at his confusion.

“We’ll discuss that later, Doc. But they were the meanest girls you could think of, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted revenge. You said it might be a boy, but what if it was a girl? Girls, especially high school girls, can be vicious to other high school girls. Maybe one of them snapped.” You explained, displaying your findings to Garcia who scanned them impressed, rubbing your shoulder in pride.

“If they did snap, it would be recent.” You heard Agent Hotchner state quickly before continuing. “Garcia, can you look up any girls from that school who had mental problems during their time in high school, had any psychotic disorders after they graduated, or had any interaction ever with any psych facilities.”

You heard the furious clicking of keys before they came to a sudden halt.

“This is quite a list for such a small school.” Garcia said breathlessly, causing you to shrug.

“Not all of them were bad, some of them might just give anxiety.” You reasoned, to which she smiled softly.

“The unsub, even if brutal, was neat, almost professionally neat. They also would need the specific tools and information to correctly damage and mutilate their sex organs. Baby girl, look up doctors, nurses, med students—”

“Focus on med-students. The victims were 26 and taking in the change that the unsub is also, they probably would still be in med school.” Reid specific, causing Garcia to open her key-searcher and specific the search even more.

“Ahh, geez, I got three names.” She replied, to which you scrunched your eyebrows in shock and disgust.

“How?” You exclaimed softly, to which she shrugged before turning back towards her keyboard.

“The unsub knows the area well to dump the bodies in secluded yet well-visited sites, so search locals, people who were born here, raised here, and stayed here.” Agent Jareau finalized, and in a sudden halt, one name and picture centered at the screen.

“Rebecca Malwizer. Twenty-five. 3356 Walnut Drive.”

“Let’s move.” You heard Agent Hotchner command before the phone was picked up and his voice was heard sharply. “Good work, Y/L/N.” Suddenly, the line was cut, and the bat cave was filled with silence.

Until Garcia enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug and spurted various praises and exclamations to you.

“Ahhh! I have the smartest protegee in all of existence, that was so good!” She gushed, rocking you two back and forth as you laughed at her antics, your hands grasping onto her forearms as you two swayed, chuckling softly at her.

“I learned from the best.” You replied, enjoying the wonderful warmth that was Penelope Garcia.

“Aww, well I can assure you that Doctor Spencer Reid loves smart women like you.”

“Aaaand, you ruined it.” You replied flatly, rejecting her once comforting hug and making attempts to escape them, which she did not allow, only pulling you tighter into her mother-bear embrace.

* * *

“They should be coming any moment!” Garcia exclaimed, jitterily walking towards the elevator with you dragging your feet behind her, smiling softly as you hugged a soft, pink blanket around you,courtesy of Garcia herself.

“They’re probably tired,” You said behind her, catching up to the excited blond with a sigh, leaning against the desk you found yourself near, the entrance to the floor only a few feet away from you. The BAU had been gone for three days now, each day requiring the team to work for countless hours without sleep, meaning neither you nor Garcia got to sleep either. You mentally cursed at the bribing you would have to do with the professor before remembering that you now worked under the Behavioral Analysis Unit and could ask the department to help you be excused.

“Which is why we need to help cheer them up!” She countered, sending you a wide yet strained smile, forcing you to shut up and bend to her will, chuckling to yourself as you cuddled into the blanket, closing your eyes just for a moment as you waited for the team to arrive.

Not even a minute later, the doors creaked open.

“Hello! Hi! Welcome everyone! Hello!” Your head jutted upwards when you heard Garcia exclaim, body jolting straight so you could face the team in front of you.

Agent Prentiss, Morgan, and Jareau all laughed at Garcia’s greeting, with Agent Hotchner giving her a firm nod, acknowledging her before his attention turned to you,

“That was good deduction, Y/L/N.” He addressed to you, giving you a slight grin that filled your whole body with pride, even if all you could return was a tired smile.

“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.” You said, voice as professional as you could make it in your exhausted state.

“Call me Hotch. No one on the team calls me Hotchner,” He said before gracing you with a full smile, which only made you feel more accomplished.

“Okay, sir.” You replied, glancing slightly to see Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, and Garcia all smiling at me as well.

“Oh, on that note, call me JJ. That’s what everyone calls me here.” She said, tilting towards you,

“Will do.” You replied, nodding.

“So, you’re the new technical analyst.” The source of the voice was an older gentleman with dark hair and a slight beard, his face appearing as if it had seen the worst that the world had to offer, while at the same time the owner of seventeen yachts. “Y/L/N?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Y/N Y/L/N, sir. You’re Agent David Rossi?” You asked, feeling nervous again at the presence of one of the agents, especially one who apparently was world-renowned.

“I am,” He affirmed, holding out his hand to shake, which you took instantly. “So, tell me, what did these knuckle-heads tell you about me?” he teased, earning a chuckle from you, pulling your hand away from him to tug on the blanket that was slipping from your shoulders. You wanted to be polite, but you were cold.

“All good things, I can assure you.” You smiled, looking over to Garcia out of habit. However, when you did, you saw a slight twinkle in her eyes, snarky and maniacal, in the most well-intended, Garcia fashion possible. You decided to follow where she was staring, and as soon as you did, your eyes landed on her intended receiver.

Oh.

“H-hello.”

Oh fuck, he was adorable.

“H-hi.” You could physically feel Garcia radiating from where you were.

“I’m, uh, Doctor Spencer Reid.” He said, adorned with a soft, half smile and a quick wave of his hand.

Ohhhh, Garcia was never going to let this go.

“But you told me to call you Reid, right?” you said, smiling at him softly. He looked stunned for a second, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide. He gave you a dazed nod, to which you didn’t know if you wanted to smirk at or blush, so, you decided to do both, looking at your feet timidly.

“Y-yeah. I did.” He finally chirped, his voice a tad higher pitched than it was before, for reasons that you were too red to consider.

“Well then,” Oh you did not like the airiness in Morgan’s voice either. “It looks like everyone knows everyone.”

“Well, we can get to know each other more later. Right now, we all need some rest. All of you have the weekend off.” You heard Hotch announce, followed by various sighs of relief and pure pleasure—that’s the most accurate way you could describe it—by the other members of the team, causing everyone to head to their desks tiredly.

You felt Garcia’s arm wrap around your bicep before she laid her head against your shoulder.

“Please drag me back to the bat cave so I can get my stuff.” She mumbled, cuddling into you, to which you giggled and rested your head on top of her hair.

“Come on, Garcia.” You said, affectionately, maneuvering yourself around so both of you could go back to the tech lab and grab all your supplies.

As you did, however, you quickly locked eyes with Reid, to which both of you gave each other a soft and timid smile before continuing your courses of action.

* * *

“Hey! Y/L/N!” You heard your name be called right as the elevator door was about to close, causing you to glance up in surprise. When your eyes locked with the warm brown ones of a certain doctor, your hand instantly reached for the elevator buttons and you pushed for the doors to open again.

“Thanks,” Spencer whispered softly as he got in, standing next to you in the elevator and waiting for the doors to close.

“No problem, Reid.” You replied, giving him a polite smile as the doors finally shut, and both of you started to descend downward. The both of you were silent initially, and at that moment, you quickly glanced over at the man, taking in his purple cardigan, the brown sweater-vest peaking from under it, as well as the sleeves of his white undershirt, and his leather satchel, which he held onto the strap of with two hands. With the addition of his converse, mismatched socks, one pumpkin themed while the other one contained math equations, and his floppy brown hair, the only thing that radiated from the man next to you was warmth, a warmth that competed with the pink blanket that was wrapped around your shoulders.

Oh, right, you still had that one.

“Is that Garcia’s?” Reid asked, referring to the suspected object.

You gave him a curt nod in affirmation. “Indeed, it is. I should probably give it back to her but its too warm.” You joked, causing both of you to giggle slightly, the young doctor giving you a soft smile that made your heart tighten.

Oh wow, he was adorable.

“You, ah, what you did during the case, that was really cool.” He complimented, looking up at you with appreciation and earnestness.

“Thanks, Reid. But I’m sure you have those breakthroughs all the time, being a genius and all.” You complimented, causing him to shake his head and smile.

“It was still impressive.”

“I appreciate that, Reid.” You thanked, looking at him softly, and keeping your gaze on him, your mouth slightly ajar in thought, to which he waited patiently for. Suddenly, your expression broke, and you decide to ask him now, or never, because what the heck?

“So…you like Star Trek?”

You have never seen a twenty-six-year-old’s eyes widen so fast.

“Do you like it too?” he exclaimed, voice loud and excited, causing you to giggle loudly.

“I prefer Star Wars, but—”

“What?! Why?” The way that he looked so wounded and sounded so devastated almost made your heart break if it was not for the current subject matter, which you were very passionate.

“Because Star Wars is superior!” You exclaimed, causing Reid to audibly gasp in offense.

“I couldn’t disagree with you more.”

“I am so sad that you believe that Star Trek is better than Star Wars, Reid. Truly, that is a great tragedy.” You replied in faux sympathy, causing him to scoff playfully before turning back to you. By this time, the elevator had reached your destination, but both of you were too engrossed in your conversation to care, walking off together into the parking lot.

Both of you continued to argue about which film series was better, animated, and passionate until you reached your car, to which you leaned against before turning back to the young doctor.

“Okay, fine. But answer me this: Sherlock or Doctor Who?” You looked at him challengingly, watching as the man paused his movements to ponder, expression frozen as he tracked through his mind to find his answer.

“Doctor Who.” You wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god. For a second, I thought I would have to murder you, Doctor Reid.” You joke, causing him to smile at you broadly before laughing himself, making your insides to fill up with warmth like they previously did, smiling dopily as your rested your head against the window.

“I like Sherlock, but the tenth doctor is just—”

“David Tennant is a gift from God, I completely agree.” You said, smiling widely at him. For some reason, this caused a pause in your conversation, one that was not odd, but almost relaxing, natural. You were honestly taken aback by how comfortable and easy the conversation between you and Reid was, and you had a hunch that he felt the same.

“Ah, it’s getting late. You should probably get home.” He said, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“I should get home?” You inquire, causing his eyes to widen and his demeanor to change.

“I-I don’t mean that in, ah, a demanding way, its just ah,” He was fumbling for a response, and you didn’t know if you should relieve him of his anxieties or let him continue out of amusement. “I-I’m sure you’re capable of taking care of yourself—”

“I’m sure that I am too.” You hummed, only causing him to spur further into his defense.

“I—Just, it’s late and unsubs are out at this time and—”

Of course, he still called them unsubs, even off the job.

“Relax, Reid. I get what you were trying to say.” You interrupted, your eyes softening as his body visibly relaxed, head drooping slightly as he looked down at his shoes, giving you a shy smile when he lifted it up once again. You returned him one equally as shy. “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“Ah, no problem…”

Then, you two just looked at each other, eyes soft and demeanors gentle, the quaint and quiet atmosphere that the nearly empty parking lot surrounding you in a serenity that made the situation more intense, but…warm.

Maybe warm was the best way to describe Doctor Spencer Reid.

“I should, ah…” You interrupted softly, breaking the quiet atmosphere that encompassed the two of you, to what seemed like Reid’s disappointment. But you didn’t want to read too much into things. “I should get going.”

“R-right.” He affirmed, nodding towards your car before looking behind him “I should get going too, enjoy the weekend before Hotch calls us in again for a sudden case.”

“Oh, god, does he?” You groaned and looked at him defeated.

“You sadly cannot control when a psychopath will attack”

“Those damn psychopaths.” You murmured jokingly, causing Reid to laugh. You let out another giggle before reaching over and unlocking your car door, throwing your bad into the backseat before turning to Reid once more, holding your blanket closed with one hand before extending the other out to him. “Well, goodnight, Reid.” You said, waiting for him to shake your hand in affirmation.

When he stared at your hand for more than a couple seconds, you could not stop yourself from being confused, scrunching your eyebrows at the young doctor.

“Reid?” You asked, looking up at him.

Suddenly, his head snapped back at you, then glanced back down at your hand, before unwrapping his hand from where it was on his satchel strap and taking yours, holding your hand gently as you shook.

“G-goodnight, Y/L/N.” He said softly, smiling at you timidly. After a few seconds, he stopped shaking your hand, and to your shock—and secret pleasure—he held on for a few more seconds, before letting go and quicklyreturning his hand back to his satchel strap, awkwardly rocking on his feet. “I-I’ll see you Monday.”

“I’ll see you Monday.” You confirmed, looking up at him.

Neither of you made an attempt to move.

“Hey, Reid?” You asked, slightly dazed at the continuous contact.

“Y-yeah?” He replied, seemingly as entranced as you were.

Whatever the hell was happening, you didn’t want to stop. But you had to go home. Your professor might kill you for not turning in your programming assignment on time.

“I really gotta go.” You giggled out, causing the boy to almost jump out of contact with you, pulling back his hand and wrapping it around his satchel strap. You smile at the flustered expression on his face, one that you are sure matches yours.

“R-right. Sorry…” He trailed, but you instantly shook your head.

“Don’t be. It’s just...I got this programming assignment, and my professor would kill me if I don’t turn it in on time.” You explained,

“Oh! I’ve programmed once. I programmed on Java and even was able to create a program where—”

“Reid?”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go.”

“Right!” He exclaimed, blushing ever so darker at his own antics.

This, however, got you thinking.

“How about you continue your thought Saturday night, at my house.” You offered, and for a moment, Reid didn’t respond, choosing to stare at you stunned. He started at you long enough for you to regret your question, considering it a mistake, before he answered.

“Y-yeah! Sure!” He finally replied, his face sporting a wide smile that immediately allowed you to relax.

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, umm, I’ll text you the address?” You offered, to which he looked at you awkwardly.

“I, uh, don’t text often.”

“But you text on the case?” You asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, but I don’t bring my case phone home.” You explained, to which you let out a soft breath, expecting nothing else from the doctor, with the minimal knowledge you had of him.

You hoped that the knowledge grew.

“Then…your home number? I’ll call you to tell you.” You offered.

“Can’t you just tell me now?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow, to which you shrugged nonchalantly.

“Yeah, but this is more fun.” You giggled, and he smiled in response.

Quickly, you pulled on your backpack so you could unzip the small compartment, pulling out a sharpie before turning around and holding it out for him, as well as extending your wrist.

He ogled the two offerings in confusion.

‘Your number, Reid.”

“Oh!”

Quickly, he grabbed the sharpie, and with a gentle hold your wrist, one that caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach, he quickly jotted down his number. Once completed, he let go on your wrist and gave you back your sharpie.

“So, ah, Saturday?” he asked, to which you confirmed with a nod.

“Saturday. Then I can show you how much better Star Wars is than Star Trek.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” You retorted playfully, causing you to laugh.

“Okay, okay, or we can watch Doctor Who?” You asked instead, to which he gave you a satisfied nod. “Cool…” You turned back to your car, knowing now that you have to leave, or your professor will murder you. “See you Saturday, Reid;”

“See you Saturday, Y/L/N.”

You could not help your heart from fluttering when you saw Reid stand in the parking lot and watch to make sure you left safely.

You also could not help the soft smile you sported once you got home and when you saw Garcia’s text, exclaiming about how she saw you and Reid, and demanded you tell her the details.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #reader x bau

[not-magdi]

UCL Nights

Warnings: None, well the loss yesterday (I think that should be a warning to)

Words: 756

Reading Time: 5min 53sec

A/n

This story was inspired by yesterday, I kind of tried to comfort myself with it so yeah I hope you'll like it.

Love y'all Magdi

1:4, that was the end. Barcelona was out of the Champions League. They fought so hard, especially Lamine. That boy gives his heart and soul every time he plays, so a loss hits him extremely hard. But this one was different. After a period of losses, the last few wins made hope spark in everyone's chest.

It was also painful for you to watch. Being a barça fan since you were a little kid. But nothing prepared you for the emotions you would feel as you saw the player's faces when they walked past you in the tunnel.

As soon as the game ended, you rushed down the tunnel, wanting to see Lamine as fast as possible. Lamine and you haven't been together for such a long time, only 2 months. But over these months, you have become each other's safe place, with only being 16 years old in this crazy world.

You have been waiting for about 10 minutes now, greeting and comforting a few players you know as they passed you. Then, Lamine finally came into your view. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes brimmed with tears.

Your heart broke at this sight. Lamine tried to stay strong in front of you, but as soon as you opened your arms, he fell into them, holding you tight.

One of your hands went from his back to his head, stroking his hair. He buried his head deeper into your neck, letting out little sobs as you continued to hold him.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm here baby, I'm here."

The two of you continue standing there for a few minutes until you feel Lamine pull away. Opening your arms, you look up at him, kissing away a few tears that rolled down his cheeks.

"How about you get changed, then I'll drive you home, and we cuddle a bit on the couch." You whisper into his ear, kissing the side of his head.

"Y-yeah, I like that plan." His voice is still a bit croaky, but there's a slight smile on his face again, which was everything you wanted.

It was now 30 minutes later, and you were sitting in your car. You let Lamine take his time, knowing the time with his teammates is really important now.

To pass some time, you decided to open up Instagram, where you are instantly flooded with thousands of new videos of the game. One particular video caught your eye, though it was a video of Lamine sitting in a chair, his jacket completely covering his face to not see him cry. It broke your heart to see him like that.

You were lost in your own world when you heard the door opening. You looked at who it was only to see the familiar face of your boyfriend. He was wearing one of your favourite hoodies and a pair of comfy jeans.

"Hey, did I scare you?" Lamine asked you with a teasing tone in his voice.

"You could never." You answer.

Laughing, he gets into the car, holding his hand out for you to take.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding Lamine's, you drive to Lamine's apartment. The drive was silent, which was unusual as you usually talked the whole trip. But you don't wanna pressure him into talking, knowing he needs some time to open up.

Arriving at his apartment, Lamine immediately flops down onto the couch facefirst. Giggling, you lay yourself on top of him, burying his head in the crook of his neck.

"You wanna talk about tonight?"

Turning his head to face you, he shakes his head, "Not at the moment, I just wanna apologize for disappointing you tonight."

Frowning, you sit up, "Disappointing me? Why would you ever disappoint me?"

Lamine now sits up, too. "You were so excited about the game tonight and I wanted to play good for you tonight so you would be proud."

Gasping, you grab Lamine's face to make him look at you. "You, my love are going to listen closely to me now, understand me? There will be not a single moment in my life where I will not be proud of you. You are one of the most passionate and hard-working players I know. You have come so far in your career already while only being 16! Every time I look at you I feel so lucky to call you mine."

You ended your speech with a deep kiss on his lips, laying your forehead against his afterwards.

"Thank you, Amor, I love you"

"I love you too Lamine"

---------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️

#lamine yamal x reader #lamine yamal #lamine yamal image #la masia #fc barcelona #champions league #barca #barcelona spain #spain

[liaromancewriter]

One Day

Premise: Ethan is confronted with the fact that his father won’t be around forever.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Alan Ramsey Rating/Category: Teen. Angst. Words: 2,405

A/N: Submission to @choicesoctober prompt "family"; I'm using @choicesflashfics week 53, prompt 3 (in bold).

Alan Ramsey woke before his alarm, not an uncommon occurrence after thirty-plus years of early mornings. But lately, his knees creaked more often than not when he climbed out of his bed. There was no denying it took his muscles longer to recover after a full day at work.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the quiet around him. Every now and then, he heard creaking and settling from inside the walls of the old house. Alan was used to the silence, but he missed that long ago time when the house was a home.

There was a time when his ears would be tuned to the sound of Ethan’s heavy feet rushing down the stairs, ready to conquer the day. And when his son was older, those same feet stealthily climbed up the stairs after a night out with a girl or his friends.

Alan was loathe to get out of bed this morning. He felt the ache down to his bones, and the inky blue darkness outside the bedroom window wasn’t helping. The days were getting shorter and the air colder. He felt like calling in sick but wasn’t sure what he’d do sitting at home alone.

Deciding he’d dawdled enough, Alan shoved the covers aside and rolled off the bed. His feet touched the cold floor, reminding him that he needed to call someone to service the furnace. Typically, Ethan took care of it, but his son had been busy lately, more than usual, as he prepared for his new role.

Alan was proud of everything he had accomplished, but he wondered if this was a sign that he’d have even less of Ethan’s time than before.

Later, still feeling out of sorts, he started the truck and waited for the engine to warm up. He absently sipped coffee from a thermos as the wipers cleared early morning dew coating the windshield, and slowly backed out of the drive.

A loud honk had him hitting the brakes hard and cursing as hot coffee splashed across the steering wheel and his hand. He looked in the rearview mirror to see a black sedan zoom past, uncaring about the speed limit.

Shaking his head in disgust, Alan used a rag to wipe the coffee stains away and continued on to work.

Later that morning, when his foot missed a foothold halfway down the telephone pole, and the ground rushed up towards him, he wished he’d called in sick after all.

---

Cassie Valentine was trying to read a super-dense journal article for the diagnostic team’s latest case, but an intermittent buzzing sound kept interrupting her focus. Frustrated, she threw Ethan’s cell phone an annoyed look, tempted to chuck it across the room.

Why did he have to be forgetful today of all days? She cursed as she lost sight of the paragraph she was on and had to start over.

It didn’t help that she was working the case on her own. Tobias was on vacation, and Baz was tied up with a research project. Ethan was working with Naveen on his transition. So, their contributions had been minimal to date.

Her green eyes fired up when the sliding doors swooshed open, and Ethan strolled in nonchalance.

“How’s the research going?” Ethan asked, heading straight to his desk.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cassie bit out. “You left your cell phone here, and the constant buzzing is driving me fucking crazy. Did you have to leave it behind today of all days? It’s not that hard to remember to take it with you!”

Ethan glanced over in surprise at her raised voice and waspish tone. “What’s got you upset?”

Cassie almost screamed in frustration, ready to tear her hair out. Instead, she snapped, “Nothing!” in a tone that implied everything was wrong and it was his fault.

She pushed back her chair, not an easy feat since it didn’t have wheels, and gathered her things.

And another thing, she grumbled, which genius decided office chairs without wheels on a carpeted floor were a good idea? Everyone knew a good chair should easily roll across the floor!

She stalked over to his desk, slammed his phone down (vibrating again, of course, in that maddeningly grating way) and marched off before she said or did something she’d regret.

Ethan watched Cassie warily through the glass walls as she disappeared down the hallway. He pursed his lips at her strange attitude and then dismissed it out of hand.

He glanced at the still buzzing phone — the vibrating tone really was annoying — and wondered who he knew at University Medical Center in Providence. Likely a consult request, he thought absently and accepted the call.

A few minutes later, he rushed towards the staircase closest to this part of the hospital. He was too anxious to wait for the elevator and didn’t want anyone to see him like this. Once he was in the parking lot, he called Naveen, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat.

“My dad’s been in an accident at work,” he said when his mentor answered, grateful that Naveen didn’t interrupt with a lot of questions. “He’s at University Medical in Providence. I’m leaving now.”

Ethan started the engine and waited for the phone to sync with the Bluetooth system.

“Keep me posted, Ethan,” Naveen’s voice boomed from the overhead speakers. “I’ll come down to Providence as soon as I can.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, disconnecting the call before backing his car out of the parking spot.

A thousand thoughts crowded his brain as he battled the afternoon Boston traffic. He breathed a sigh of relief when he cleared city limits and took the interstate ramp, accelerating with every passing minute.

Like most children, Ethan had always thought his dad would be around forever. But the man and doctor in him knew one day he’d have to reconcile with losing his only parent. Still, Alan was only fifty-seven, active and fit, and Ethan figured one day was a long way off.

He checked in on his father every month, made sure he was aware of any medications he was prescribed and took care of stuff around the house. Well, he hired someone to do it, from mowing the lawn in summer to a snow cleaning service in the winter. His dad protested at the expense, but Ethan didn’t want him doing the heavy lifting.

The last time he drove down to Providence…he racked his brain and realized it was six or seven weeks. He’d been too busy lately to visit, what with leading the team and working with Naveen on the transition and with Cassie on hers. Their calls had been brief too, just hello, how are you, sorry, can I call you back?

He was about to cross into Rhode Island when he remembered Cassie. He’d call her later, he decided. Right now, he wasn’t in the mood for an argument about whatever was bothering her. They could hash it out later, as far he was concerned.

It was an hour later when he was finally escorted to his dad’s hospital room. Sitting in the waiting room had been unbearable, but he understood these situations all too well.

He nodded absently as the on-call resident went through the litany of injuries, some of which Ethan could see for himself. Alan’s left arm was in a cast, broken in two places. There were abrasions, contusions and lacerations along the side of his neck and face, his arms and legs.

He looked so small, Ethan thought, watching his father sleeping, swallowed up by the large bed, the back raised at an angle. Lines and wires were running up the side of the bed, and a pulsometer measured his heart rate and O2 stats.

“Your father is fortunate, Dr. Ramsey. The bushes broke his fall,” the doctor droned behind him, his tone deferential upon learning his identity. “A few inches to the left and the injuries might have been catastrophic. We’ll monitor him overnight and reassess in the morning.”

Ethan placed his hand atop Alan’s through the guardrail, reassuring himself when he felt the warm skin.

“I’ll check in later in case you have any questions,” the resident said.

Ethan nodded, taking a deep breath to hold back his emotions. “Thank you, Doctor…” He turned around to look at the young man with a quizzical look. “I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Doctor Nolan,” he said simply, hand on the door handle.

And with a wave, he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Alone, Ethan dropped into the visitor’s chair beside the bed and leaned forward. He reached for his father’s hand again, careful of the IV catheter. His eyes turned misty, and his mind flooded with memories from his childhood.

His dad cheering him on at hockey practice and basketball games. Those early days after Louise left and waiting for his truck to pull into the driveway, afraid that his father would disappear like she had.

Walking along the riverbank in the summer, licking ice cream cones. His dad teased him for taking his sweet time while Alan gobbled his up quickly, laughing as he wiped the sticky residue in his beard.

Being a single parent was hard, but his father had done his best for his only child. Ethan knew Alan had no regrets, but he couldn’t say the same about himself. He should have visited more, spent less of his free time working or with Cassie, or maybe he should have brought her down with him.

She had been pushing him for months for a relationship with his father, but Ethan had resisted. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been reluctant. His life in Boston, his life with her, was so different from his life in Providence. He wasn’t ashamed of it, precisely, but he couldn’t envision her in the rundown neighborhood with chain-link fences.

Should he contact Louise? Alan would want him to. He was certain of that.

Ethan wasn’t sure how long he sat there, head in his hands, lost in thought. When a hand fell on his shoulder, the unexpected touch was like an electric shock to his system, and he almost jumped out of the chair. The darkness outside the window was as jarring as the intrusion.

“Sorry,” Cassie whispered. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, clearing the gruff from his throat.

Cassie looked momentarily hurt, but then her face cleared, looking almost serene.

“Naveen told me,” she said, her gaze briefly landing on the bed. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. How is he doing? What did the doctors say?”

“He hasn’t woken up yet, but his vitals are stable,” he said, stretching his long arms into the air.

He narrated the notes he’d read earlier, summarizing what the doctors and nurses had relayed and the incident report from his father’s boss when he dropped by earlier, falling into the familiar role of a doctor and not a son.

“I wish you’d called me,” Cassie said softly, and then she shook her head before Ethan could respond. “Never mind.”

She nodded at an overnight bag on the floor just inside the entrance. “I packed you some clothes, underwear, toiletries. I figured you’d want to stay until Alan is out of the hospital. I wasn’t sure if you keep a change of clothes at your dad’s house, but it couldn’t hurt to be prepared.”

Ethan felt ashamed for not getting in touch with her himself. He’d meant to do it after he arrived, but it had slipped his mind. And yet, he’d managed to speak to Naveen and convinced him to stay in Boston.

He stared at the bag and thought he was an ass for taking her for granted.

“I’ll leave you alone,” she said, taking a step back as she turned to leave. “Let me know when he wakes up and how he’s doing.”

Ethan grabbed her hand before she could leave and reeled her into his arms, locking her against him. He framed her face between his hands and tilted her head back to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Cassie,” he said, his blue eyes remorseful. “I should have called you as soon as I heard, or at least from the road. I kept telling myself I’d do it shortly, but it slipped my mind.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “You had a lot on your mind.”

“It’s not okay,” Ethan countered vehemently. “No excuses. You should have been my first call.” He brushed her lips tenderly. “I want you to stay. Please. I can’t do this without you.”

Cassie relented, the stiffness in her body dissipating as she leaned into him and her hands slipped around his back.

“I’m sorry, too, for snapping at you earlier,” she said, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I was irritated by my lack of ability to solve the case, and I took it out on you.”

“There, you’re all better now,” Alan whispered hoarsely from the bed.

Ethan let Cassie go and stepped toward the bed. He placed one hand on the pillow as his father struggled to sit up, his hands failing to find purchase.

“Easy, Dad. I’ve got you,” he said, pressing a button to adjust the bed and helping Alan get comfortable.

“I’ll get the doctor,” Cassie said, leaving them alone as she rushed out of the room.

“Dad, I…” Ethan swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat.

“I know, son. I know.” Alan squeezed his hand lightly. “I was careless.”

He started coughing, wincing at the pain. Ethan quickly grabbed the water jug and poured water into a paper cup. He stuck a straw through the top and held it up for his father to drink.

“We can talk later when you’re feeling better.” Ethan lowered the back of the bed slightly. “Just rest for now. Doctor’s orders,” he added, forcing a smile.

Alan settled back on the bed, wheezing slightly from the exertion, and closed his eyes.

“Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Ethan,” he said weakly. “Don’t take the woman you love for granted.” He paused to catch his breath. “Love is fragile in the best of times. But when things are hard…”

“I won’t,” Ethan said, understanding what was left unsaid. “I promise.”

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

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#open heart #ethan ramsey #open heart choices #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #alan ramsey #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

[lemoncrushh]

Wild Horses - One

Summary: Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.

A/N: Please note all portions in italics are meant to be flashbacks :).

STORY PAGE

Chapter One Word Count: 4.3k+

“Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired…” - Daughtry; Witness

“Are you sure this is what you wanna do?” Pauline asked, lifting her coffee mug to her lips.

Amber let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom, it is.”

Pauline swallowed as she looked out the window to the backyard. The swing set was old and rusted, the sandbox her children had once played in now overgrown with weeds. Her daughter was nearing twenty. It was time to let her go and earn her wings.

“Then I think you should go for it,” she said with a sweet smile.

Relief spread over Amber as she rose from her chair to give her mother a hug.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll make you proud, I promise.”

“You already do, sweetheart,” whispered Pauline as she patted Amber’s hand, a tear trickling out of the corner of her eye. “Now you go follow your dream. Laci and I will be just fine.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. She’s a wild one, keeps me on my toes. Just like you.”

Amber caught the loving admiration underneath Pauline’s joking tone.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too. Now stop making me teary-eyed and go pack.”

Amber grinned as she bound for her bedroom. She was gonna be okay. She could feel it.

The restaurant was freezing. Actually, to say it was a restaurant was like calling that motel they’d stayed in the night before the Ritz. It was a dang Waffle House, but at least it was cheap. Amber had managed to save up some money on this short road tour, but she wasn’t about to splurge on a real restaurant, even if that sign she’d seen for that Mexican place had looked appealing. Still, it was so freaking cold in this joint, her nipples could’ve broken glass.

“And what can I get you, hon?” asked the blond middle-aged waitress.

Amber faked a smile as she rubbed her arms. “Eggs over easy with grits and bacon please.”

The waitress nodded and penciled in her order before addressing Carter who sat beside her. He ordered his usual - three waffles. Nothing else. Of course he would smother them later with butter and maple syrup. Amber watched him sip on his Coke when the waitress walked away and wondered how on earth he was able to carry all the band equipment day after day when he was loaded up on so much sugar. She never once saw him come down from his high and fall flat on his ass, but she waited for the day she would.

“How many more miles til Nashville?” groaned Brendan, running his palm down his face, his eyes weary.

“About eighty or so,” replied Johnny, smoothing out the road map in front of him. “Not much longer.”

“Good, cause I need a real bed. Alone.”

Amber smiled meekly at her bass player. Brendan had taken the wheel early that morning after they’d left Charlotte. The boys were getting a bit restless and annoyed with having to share a motel room, one of them usually opting for the floor or the van so they wouldn’t have to share a bed. Occasionally if Amber got a double room, Carter would convince her to let him take the other bed. Sometimes in the beginning he’d even slip himself into her single bed, and she wouldn’t kick him out if she was drunk enough. But those days were over, she’d told him.

Nashville would be a different situation. The band was scheduled to play a festival, billed as one of the opening acts. It would be excellent exposure for them, and in return they got free accomodations at the Hilton. It was a sacrifice Amber was willing to make to get the recognition. She’d just decided not to tell the boys until after the show that they weren’t getting paid.

The waitress brought their food and other than the sounds of chewing and swallowing, the occasional burp, the four sat in silence. Amber continued to rub her arms when she could, the coffee doing little to warm her up. She’d wished she’d brought her hoodie, but since it was damn near a hundred degrees outside, she hadn’t even bothered to pull it out of her duffle bag. Suddenly, she felt another set of hands on her skin, and she looked up to see Carter, a small grin on his face as he rubbed her naked arms.

“Cold?” he raised a brow.

“Yeah,” she sighed, allowing his long arms to envelop her as she scooted closer to him.

Her stomach did one of those flip-floppy things that she didn’t like. Okay, maybe she liked it, but she didn’t want to. She’d been firm with Carter that they were not a couple, and he wasn’t supposed to act like they were. He’d reluctantly agreed, what with being in a band together and all. But sometimes he could be really sweet. Sometimes he…

“Can I get you anything else, hon?” the waitress asked.

“I don’t think so,” replied Carter, giving her his best smile as he squeezed Amber tighter with one hand and patted his stomach with the other. “That was great.”

The blond winked at him and set the check beside him before twisting her hips and strutting to the next table. Johnny and Brendan began to pull out their wallets until Amber stopped them.

“I got this one, guys,” she explained, giving Carter a nudge so he’d slide out of the booth.

Brendan shrugged, returning his wallet to his back pocket. Johnny dropped a few ones on the table and folded up the road map. As Amber paid the bill at the counter, Carter slid a hand across her butt and whispered in her ear.

“Meet you in the van.”

Amber nodded. “Be there in a minute. I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Ooh, honey, he’s a cutie,” Amber heard the waitress say when the boys were out of ear-shot. She scoffed.

“He your boyfriend?” the blond continued.

“No,” Amber shook her head as she took her change. “Just my drummer.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Brendan when he opened his hotel room door. “At last! My own room!”

Amber chuckled in the hallway, her duffle bag over her shoulder as she made her way to her room. The door clicked shut behind Brendan, but she could still hear him shouting something about ‘getting used to this’. Johnny’s room was across from Brendan’s, Amber’s next to it.

“I’m so ready for a nap,” she remarked, her card key in the door.

“Now? I thought...maybe we could hang out for a while. In mine.” Carter pointed across the hall.

“I’m exhausted, Carter.”

“I know, but…” he paused, his lips quivering into a suggestive grin, “can’t you be exhausted in here? With me?”

“Ugh...Carter…” Amber groaned. Here we go again, she thought.

“I give great back rubs.”

“I know you do,” she nodded with disinterest. “But I’m not feeling that great. I don’t think that Waffle House agreed with me.”

Amber heard the click of the lock and pushed her door open.

“Amber…”

“Carter,” she rolled her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor next to the bathroom. “I’m going to sleep. See you at dinner.”

Pauline held up the phone so Amber could see Laci dance around the living room in her tutu. Amber beamed and giggled as Laci did the same, twirling like a ballerina.

“Yay!” Amber clapped when Laci was finished. “Good job!”

Laci continued to giggle, her brown curls bouncing as she fell over on the couch, her head in Pauline’s lap.

“She’s been practicing,” Amber’s mom announced.

“I can tell! How’s school?”

“It’s going great. Her teacher says she’s always excited to come and never wants to leave.”

“Aw, I’m glad,” said Amber.

A knock sounded on her door so she rose from the bed to answer it. Carter stood on the other side, his hands in his pockets. Amber lifted a finger and pointed to her cell phone to indicate she was talking on it. Carter nodded and followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. We’re about to go to dinner.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Pauline nodded. “Have fun in Nashville!”

“I will. Bye Laci!” she waved into the phone. The little girl’s head popped into the screen she blew kisses.

“Love youuuuu!”

“I love you too, baby girl.”

Hanging up the call, Amber shoved her phone into her back pocket and looked up at Carter. He’d apparently had a shower, his caramel hair combed back, his clean t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders.

“Ready?” she breathed, hoping he hadn’t noticed how it caught in her throat.

“Yeah, Johnny and Brendan are downstairs.”

“Okay.” Amber stepped into her sandals and walked around him to the door.

“Um...Amber?”

“Yeah?” she stopped.

Carter scratched his stubbled chin before shoving his hand back in his pocket.

“Sorry about...before,” he offered.

Amber chewed her cheek and shrugged. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I know but…” he hesitated, then looked down at his feet. “Hey, I know how you feel about us-”

Amber held up a hand. “There is no us, Carter. We’re friends. Bandmates. That’s all.”

His jaw set so hard he could cut through steel, Carter nodded. “Got it.”

Amber sighed. “Carter…”

Stepping closer to her, he put his hands on her waist.

“We got something, Amber. You might not see it yet, but I do. All those times you cried on my shoulder til four in the morning. Those nights in your bed-”

“It’s over, Carter,” she pushed his hands away.

“But I don’t want it to be.”

Amber swallowed hard as she looked down. “It needs to be,” she whispered.

“But why?”

“Because...that was the old me.”

Amber felt Carter sigh more than heard it. She watched his feet as he stepped around her to open the door.

“You’ll want me again, Amber. Maybe not tonight. But one day you will.”

Amber glared at him as he held the door. Maybe he was right.

Harry didn’t usually stay with his band. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, and it wasn’t an ego thing. It was more of a safety thing. If fans got wind of where Mitch, Sarah, Adam or Clare were, nine times out of ten they figured Harry was somewhere near. They would bombard the hotel just to get a glimpse of him, and sometimes things could get out of hand. And Harry didn’t want his band to feel like they couldn’t get out and see the city if they wanted to. So early on Jeffrey Azoff, his friend and manager, had talked him into staying at a different hotel from theirs. And so far it had worked.

Today, however, Harry decided to join his band in the hotel restaurant - the Hilton where the rest of the band members were staying. He reckoned no one would suspect he would be there, so he could slip in and take a seat with the gang and enjoy a private meal. But he’d thought wrong.

He wasn’t sure if it was the girl who nearly fainted in the lobby, or if there had been paps or someone else outside who’d recognized him, but by the time he made it around the corner near the elevators, just outside the restaurant, he was surrounded. Cursing under his breath, he put on a brave face and greeted the mob of fans.

Fans. That was actually too kind of a word. He knew who his true fans were. They were the ones who bought his album and tickets to his shows. They were outside waiting in a queue for hours so they’d get a good spot in the general admission section. They had websites and blogs and wrote fanfiction and made their own merch. They weren’t waiting outside of hotel restaurants hoping to get a selfie with someone they may or may not actually had heard of, let alone sang along to in the car. But being the Harry Styles that he was, he knew it wasn’t fair to pick and choose. Treat people with kindness, that was his motto. He lived by the golden rule, even when all he wanted to do was get a bloody meal with his friends.

When the last girl had left, a squeak in her voice as she snapped one last photo, Harry strolled into the restaurant, waving at his bandmates who sat in the corner of the nearly empty room. Immediately a waiter came by, setting a glass of water in front of him.

“Evening,” nodded the waiter in a monotone.

“We already ordered for you,” said Clare.

“Oh. Thanks,” Harry grinned, setting his napkin in his lap.

“Guess, this isn’t happening again,” remarked Mitch.

“What isn’t?”

“This,” Mitch gestured. “Dinner at our hotel. You were mobbed.”

Harry shrugged with a sigh. “Yeah. It wasn’t too bad. Coulda been worse.”

Sarah and Mitch glared at him before lifting their glasses simultaneously. The waiter came with their food then, and the mood was lightened with idle chatter. Halfway through his salad, however, Harry could feel eyes upon him. He had a gift, he did. He could always tell when he was being watched. Usually it involved a camera, but when he lifted his gaze to browse the room, he only found a pair of pretty blue eyes. They belonged to a young woman sat at the table across the room, one of only two others occupied in the restaurant presently. She was joined by three other lads, who all seemed to be doing their best to pay attention to themselves and each other, and certainly not to her.

He had no idea how or why. She was cute. She had pouty red lips and a heart-shaped face. And there was no way he could ignore the way she tried to look away when he caught her looking at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Yeah, he would definitely be paying attention to her.

Actually, come to think of it, she looked right familiar to him. Biting his lip, he tried to place her.

A burst of laughter broke his thoughts and he turned his head to see Adam showing the other three a video of his kid on his phone.

“How adorable!” exclaimed Clare.

As Adam scrolled to find another funny video, Harry leaned toward Mitch.

“Hey mate, who’s that?” he pointed to the girl across the room. “Do you know her?”

Mitch shrugged just as Sarah said, “That’s Amber Crosby.”

“Who?” Mitch and Harry asked in unison.

“Amber Crosby? She’s part of the festival tomorrow?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That’s her and her band.”

“Ohh,” sounded Harry. Amber Crosby, that’s right. He’d heard her single a few times. She was good.

“How do you know this?” inquired Mitch.

“Because I make it a point to keep up with what’s going on,” remarked Sarah, pursing her lips. Mitch mocked her with a face which earned him a pinch.

Harry watched Amber sit with her band, though she might as well had been sat there alone. She reached for her glass of water, taking a sip through a straw before her eyes wandered up and locked with Harry’s again. He caught the slight blush in her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze and set her glass back down.

“Hey, Harry, are y-” he heard Mitch begin, but he didn’t stay to listen to the rest of the sentence. Instead, he rose from his chair and crossed the room to where Amber sat.

“Hello,” he greeted when he reached her table. “Amber Crosby, right?”

Once again, he didn’t miss the rosiness of her cheeks as she lifted her head.

“Yes,” she smiled up at him.

“I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Harry Styles.”

Amber beamed wider, taking Harry’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“I saw that you’re playing tomorrow,” he half lied.

“Yeah,” Amber made a face. Harry wasn’t sure if it was one of embarrassment or annoyance. But either way, he liked how her nose crinkled when she did it. “I think we’re like second or third. So we’ll be out of here by sundown.”

Harry feigned shock, placing his hand on his chest. “And miss my set?”

Amber giggled. “Well, I don’t want to, but you know…”

“Hey, man,” uttered the straight-nosed guy sat next to Amber. If he hadn’t extended his hand, Harry might have thought he was about to threaten him.

“Oh, sorry!” Amber sat up, addressing the three men at the table. “Harry, this is Carter, Brendan and Johnny. My band. Guys, this is Ha-”

“Harry Styles, man, nice to meet ya!” Carter nearly slapped his hand against Harry’s, making Amber grimace. But Harry was gracious, shaking each man’s hand and making them feel important.

“I’ve heard your song,” said Harry, “it’s really good.”

It was Amber’s turn to cover her heart. “Oh, thank you.”

“Yeah, I’m anxious to hear more.”

His eyes met Amber’s then, making her smile. He didn’t miss Carter’s arm, however, that suddenly stretched across the back of her chair.

“Will you be there tomorrow?” asked Amber. “I mean, as early as we’ll be playing?”

“Yeah, I should be. I’ll be popping in off and on throughout the day.”

“What time are you on?” piped up one of the other lads. Damn, Harry had forgotten their names. Brandon? Brennan?

“We’re on at eight,” replied Harry.

“Oh. We might be gone by then,” Carter declared, his fingers playing on Amber’s shoulder. “We have another gig to get to the next day.”

“Oh, too bad,” Harry frowned, not missing the maneuver Amber pulled to get her shoulder out of Carter’s reach. “Well, just wanted to say hello, and um...best of luck tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Amber and her band sang.

Harry gave a small wave as he turned back for his table, rejoining his own band.

“What d’you think?” Sarah raised a brow.

“She seems lovely.”

Just then Amber and her band rose from their table, heading for the exit.

“I think I’ll try to introduce myself tomorrow,” said Sarah. “I definitely wanna catch their set.”

But Harry was barely listening. He watched Amber follow the men out of the restaurant, turning around once to wave at him. He smiled and waved back.

He definitely wanted to catch their set too.

Carter thought he heard something. It was a cheap motel, and the walls were very thin. But did he detect the sound of someone crying? Amber’s room was next door. Could it be…

He waited a few more minutes, just to be sure. Then swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up and walked to the door, hesitating only for a split second before stepping outside.

He knocked gently at first, then thought that was ridiculous and knocked louder. She didn’t answer right away, though that didn’t surprise him. Again, he knocked, this time calling her name.

“Amber! Amber, are you in there?” He knew his question was pointless; of course she was in there. And she was hurting.

He heard the click of the lock before the door opened, just enough to reveal half of her tear-stained face.

“Are you okay?” Another stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay.

She shook her head, her hair falling over her eyes. Carter let out a deep breath.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Amber looked down and shook her head again. “Not really.”

Carter nodded. He wasn’t going to push her.

“Can I...come in?”

Swallowing hard, Amber stepped back, her head still bowed. When Carter shut the door behind him, she finally looked up at him.

“Oh!”

It was only then that it dawned on Carter that he was shirtless. He’d been lying on his bed after returning to his room, still in his jeans, his sweaty t-shirt and shoes discarded across the room in a pile. His mind on getting to Amber, he hadn’t bothered to put on a clean shirt.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

With a sharp turn, Amber ran to the bed, planting herself on it face down.

“Hey,” Carter whispered as he sat down next to her. He watched her back tremble and shake as she cried into her pillow. “Amber…”

When she didn’t reply, he looked around the tiny room. On the nightstand sat a half-empty bottle of whisky. It wasn’t open, but he picked up the empty glass next to it and sniffed it. He made a face as he wondered if she’d already drunk that much tonight.

“Amber,” he said again.

Just as he reached for her, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. He’d let her cry as much as she wanted; he was willing to wait all night if he needed to. Finally, she lifted her head, wiped her eyes and sniffled.

“I hate my life,” she admitted.

“What?”

“I’m so tired, Carter,” she cried. “So very tired. Of everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sick of trying so hard...when it doesn’t get me anywhere.”

Pushing a strand of her brown hair from her wet, sticky cheek, Carter assumed she meant the band, her music. But then she dropped the bomb.

“I just want someone to love me,” she whined, her big brown eyes searching his face. “Why is that so hard?”

“Amber…”

“Am I unlovable?” she asked.

“What? No!” Carter knew that wasn’t true. Okay, maybe he wasn’t in love with her. But he’d definitely had feelings since they’d met. He knew she’d had a hard life and kept her guard up, but he’d never gotten the whole story. He’d always hoped one day she’d tell him.

“Sometimes…” she hesitated, “sometimes I just wanna end it.”

“End what?” Damn, he was full of dumb questions tonight. He knew the answer. He just hoped he was wrong.

“My life.”

He took her face in his hands then. He wanted to yell at her, shake her into reality. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Amber,” he said firmly.

“Don’t I?” she rolled her eyes. “No one gives a shit about me.”

“I do. I care.”

“You do?” Though her eyelids were heavy, she fluttered her lashes.

Carter could smell the liquor on her breath before he kissed her. He didn’t care. He wanted her to know she was wanted.

She hadn’t asked him to stay that night, but he had anyway. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And when she’d gotten up to puke, he’d held back her hair.

Carter sort of made a habit of staying in Amber’s room after that. About a month or so later, after they shared an entire bottle of whisky, she told him her story.

“Ten minutes,” the stage assistant announced, sending nervous tingles down Amber’s spine.

“Okay, okay,” she breathed, shaking her limbs and fingers. “Let’s do this.”

Just then she heard a voice behind her, one that she recognized from the night before. She turned to see Harry Styles chatting with Brendan along with his bandmates Sarah and Mitch whom she’d met an hour ago. When their eyes met, he smiled widely and stepped toward her.

“Hi, Amber,” he greeted. “Promised I’d make it to see you, and here I am.”

Amber returned his smile, her insides giggling with glee. He hadn’t actually promised that, not in so many words, but she thought it was a nice gesture.

“Good to see you, Harry,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t crack before she even made it to the stage.

“You’ve met Sarah and Mitch,” he confirmed in part question.

“Yes, I did. They’re so nice.”

“I have a great band,” Harry nodded.

“You definitely do. They all seem very fond of you. As they should.”

“Five minutes!”

“I’m on next,” Amber voiced with wide eyes.

“Best of luck to you,” Harry grinned. “You’ll be great.”

“Hope so,” she breathed. She looked around to see her band members coming toward her. For some reason she got more nervous when she made eye contact with Carter.

“Hey, man,” he said as he approached Harry, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, good luck, mate,” Harry reached out his hand to tap Carter’s arm.

“Places people!” the stage hand called.

Amber shrieked, trying to let her body release the last of its nerves. She caught the tiny giggle coming from Harry and gave him a shrug.

“Always nervous,” she muttered.

She hadn’t expected Harry to take her hand then. And she hadn’t expected to feel the electricity that charged through her skin from his touch. And she hadn’t expected the look in his eyes to take all her nerves away and make her feel calm.

“Let’s go!” Carter shouted, his hand on her back as he pushed her onto the stage.

Harry watched Amber Crosby’s short set from backstage. She was good. Better than good, she was fantastic. He loved the tone of her voice, both warm and clear. She had a youthful quality about her while also being very sensual, like some of the classic country females whom he enjoyed. Though he was familiar with the radio hit, he liked her other songs just as much, if not more. He wondered if she wrote them all, and he made it a point to ask her when he got the chance. If he got the chance. He was disappointed that she and her band would be leaving after their set. There was something about her… he didn’t know what exactly, but he wanted to find out.

The crowd cheered after their last song, making Harry smile. He hardly knew this girl, but he was already feeling a sense of pride for her. His own hands clapping eagerly, he watched as the band took a bow together and turned to exit the stage. He felt the presence of two bodies stepping to either side of him, joining him in his applause.

“So what do you think?” asked Sarah.

“I think I just found my new opening act,” Harry replied.

As always feedback is appreciated (even if it is an old fic lol).

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry fanfiction #harry fan fiction #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry fan fic #harry series #harry x oc #harry angst #harry smut #harry fluff #real harry fic

[gatalentan]

don’t think about little melissa schemmenti playing with the toy fire truck she got for christmas dreaming about being a firefighter like her uncle & going to the public library and trying with all her being to read all about firefighters just to have her dreams and hopes crushed

"Miss Schemmenti?" a voice like a mouse squeaked out from the doorway.

Melissa looked up from her grading, flipping her glasses back onto her head. Isaiah, one of her second graders, stood in her doorway, eyes big as moons, his little fingers gripping his backpack straps like a lifeline, a tiny ball of tension. Melissa felt her eyebrows knit in the middle.

"Hey Isaiah. C'mon in." She tilted her head towards the desks in front of her and he skulked in, shoulders wrapped around his ears. He plopped down on the nearest chair, bag hitting the ground with a thump. Melissa wheeled her chair over to him, sitting on it backwards. "You ok, kid?" She asked, voice as soft as she could make it, willing him to talk.

"Umm. It's." He looked down at the desk, at his hands, the floor. He nibbled at the end of his thumbnail, working the words out of his mouth. "Well, you know how my Dad's a pilot? And my Grandpa? And my Uncle David?"

"Uhuh. You drew that great picture." Melissa thumbed behind her at the project board where a drawing of Isaiah and his family in matching pilot hats flew across a green sky.

"Dad said I won't get to fly, 'cause-a my eyes." He told the table, mumbling into his shirt collar. "'cause-a the colours being mixed up. I'm." He swiped at his face, ducking it lower so she wouldn't see. "I'm sad, I guess. I dunno what to do."

Melissa's stomach dropped, felt her whole body droop with the sheer weight of how much she could relate, suddenly felt all of eight years old herself. Squeaky wheels on a cardboard firetruck screeching along the tiled floor of her Nonna's kitchen, water pistols firing at housefires drawn in crayon, scampering up trees with her little sister to save imaginary cats. She dug her nails into the knees, gathering herself with a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Isaiah." She handed him a tissue and he took it, but was too proud to use it. "You know, Miss Schemmenti didn't always wanna be a teacher. When I was your age, I really wanted to be a firefighter, just like my uncle."

He finally looked up at her, eyes even wider, somehow. "You did? But you're… Miss Schemmenti."

Melissa laughed low in her throat. "I am now. That's not what I planned. See, back then, they didn't let girls be firefighters. I even made 'em let me do the test-" (slipped her Uncle two month's allowance for it) "-but they rejected me."

She'd aced it too, had been doing strength and cardio training for years, so sure she could be the exception, the star in track at her high school. But her best just wasn't enough, and no amount of greased palms and yelling and tears and being deserving could change things, not back then. It had taken her a long time and a deferred year of college to figure out what she'd do with her life without this piece of her that had felt so inevitable and had now been ripped away.

"But that's not FAIR." He smacked the table with his fists, then flinched at his own outburst, retreating back into himself. "Oops. Sorry. 'bout the table. And uh, you. It's not fair."

Melissa bit her lip, smiling sadly at his compassion, remembering how the sadness, the weight of disappointment, had crushed her under its rubber boot for a long time. She hated that he felt even a fraction of it. "Yeah. It wasn't fair."

She sighed, leaning forward on the back of the chair to really look at the little boy in front of her, looking up at her like she knew the secrets to the universe and could somehow fix this for him with a magic wand. It struck her, then, just how many times she'd seen that same face mirrored at her time and time again, for decades, with different noses, different hair, different eyes, but still the same. And she still knew all their names, even now, could recall them just as easy as the coins jingling in her pocket, their hopeful faces just as bright and shiny and full of potential she so desperately wanted to help them achieve some small way.

"But you know what? If I hadn't been rejected, I wouldn't be here, right? I wouldn't have met you, or all the hundreds of other kids I've met since before you were even born. Sometimes we just end up on a different path than what we thought. I love being a teacher, turns out, and I'm pretty good at it, right?" He nodded. "And I never would-a found that out if I became a firefighter."

"I guess. I just..." He put his chin on his hands, deep in thought. "I don't know what to do now. I-" he audibly swallowed, voice wobbling "I wanted to make my Dad proud. I wanted to be like him. I don't wanna be different to everybody else."

Ouch.

"I know he's already so proud of you, kid. And so am I. We've all got something that makes us a little different. Me? My eyes aren't so good either, see?" She flipped her glasses back onto her nose to punctuate her point, jiggling them up and down by the arms to make him crack a smile. "You see things in a different colour. But that's not the only thing you are. You're smart, and you're funny, and I know you got lots of friends, 'cause I've seen you guys in detention often enough." She pulled a mock stern face, and his reluctant smile peeled open a little wider. "You'll figure it out. You don't gotta know right now, you're still young, just focus on being the best you you can be, and everything will work itself out in the end."

"But my Dad-"

"Your Dad will love you no matter what you become." And she knew he would, too, had seen his big puffed out chest at the open house, how his Dad's smile had spread wide with the same gap as Isaiah had when she'd told him about how he was top of her class.

Isaiah let out a huge breath, somehow sounding bigger than his four foot frame could have possibly contained.

"You promise?"

"'Course I do." She stook out her pinkie, and he took it, both giggling. A grown ass fifty-whatever year old, giggling. Kids, man. "You feelin' any better?"

"Yeah. I think so. Maybe."

"Good." She leaned back in her chair, had an idea. "Hey, wanna know a secret?" She whispered conspiratorially, peering around like there might be a spy hidden in any corner.

"Duh!"

Melissa wheeled back her chair and ferreted around in the top drawer of her desk, pulling out a bag of leftover Halloween candy. She plonked it on the table in front of him, taking a Twix for herself. "I got contraband. Don't tell Mrs. Howard. If I cover my eyes and two pieces of candy and my best Math student aren't here when I open them, then that's none of my business."

His face lit up like the Fourth of July, and Melissa dutifully covered her eyes with her palm. The sound of rustling plastic packages, of a backpack being snatched, and sneakers hastily squeaking on the sticky floor followed, then stopped dead.

"Thanks Miss Schemmenti."

She peeped out from between her fingers, seeing him smiling back at her from the doorway, tension lifted from his little body. Before she could respond, he scampered off.

Yeah, she'd ended up where she was meant to be, even if it wasn't what she'd planned.

#anon why did you choose violence #work wives #melissa x barbara #chatalentan #✍️

[topgunreacts]

The love-denial reaches its peak between these two men who are bumping uglies on Uncle Sam’s dime

Excerpt from chapter 17

A few days later, PJ ordered Maverick to report to his office for some good news. Maverick didn’t know what to expect of such a summons, seeing as how he’d never in his life been called to a CO’s office to hear anything good period, much less something good about him. As usual, PJ wasn’t smiling, but he did tell Maverick plainly how proud he was of how far Maverick had come since the early days of confusion and pain. He merely wanted Maverick to know it in person. In fact, he was so pleased that he told Maverick to sit down in a chair and make himself comfortable. With a great deal of caution, Maverick sat, keeping his back straight in case this generous act had some sort of ulterior motive. But PJ’s happiness seemed completely genuine. He wasn’t rolling out the red carpet or anything, but Maverick could sense that the old man was starting to like him after all. A little.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on your labs,” PJ said, scanning the latest report. “Your body in particular is really gunning for the threshold, here. This isn’t the fastest synthesis development I’ve seen, but it’s up there. And Ice consistently reports that you’re being a supportive partner. I’ve given your team permission to amp up your training to prepare for the end of Phase One. You’ve done nice work, Mitchell. You turned it around.”

Maverick bit the side of his tongue to keep from grinning too hard, but it was a lost cause. “Thank you, sir.”

“Based on my prior experience with couples at your current level, I expect both of you will complete your trial during his next heat. Prepare yourself; once I give the order for the last of the training wheels to come off, you’re looking at your new normal. The bar for success will always stay just out of reach; if you want to grasp it, you’ll be jumping higher and higher each time. What was difficult for you yesterday will be tomorrow’s warm-up exercise. Are you ready for that?”

Almost two years ago, Viper had posed a similar question to a room full of Top Gun hopefuls. Maverick had answered with an affirmative then, too, but there was something about this one that felt more earned. Maverick didn’t feel that undercurrent of desperation for someone to acknowledge him. He felt comfortable. Steady. Nervous, too—but not so desperate anymore.

“Yes, sir,” Maverick said. “I’m ready.”

More at the link

#top gun #icemav #writing #top gun fanfiction #maverick mitchell #iceman kazansky #principles of aviation

[hypno-bun]

Rating the Ghouls’ and the Papas’ Driving skills

The ghouls

Cirrus - Cirrus is a great driver, however she does have quite a bit of road rage. If she gets cut off in traffic you better believe that this ghoulette will be screaming profanities that would make even Dew blush. She only drives if one of the better drivers (Aether, Cumulus, or Mountain) isn’t.

“Hey you!!! You mother******”/10

Cumulus- Cumulus is one of the best drivers of the group, even if she does drive a little fast. You always know Cumulus is driving when she whips out her iconic sunglasses. She also has the best playlists of the group. On a long road trip she once sang every song from the Phantom of the Opera, all two and a half hours of it non-stop.

“The PHANTOM of the Opera is there….”/ 10

Sunshine - Since Sunshine is one of the newer ghouls she actually doesn’t know how to drive yet. The other ghouls assume that she already knows how to and Sunshine is just too proud to tell them that she doesn’t know how. So when she’s asked if she wants to drive she will just make up excuses of why the conditions aren’t right. But she does bring the best snacks.

“Oh I forgot my sunglasses and the sun is just too bright out for me to see”/ 10

Rain- Oh sweet little Rain. Rain is absolutely terrified of driving in traffic. On smaller back roads he does just find, but stick him on the 105 in the middle of rush hour, the ghoul will fold quicker than one of Primo’s old lawn chairs. He hates conflict and upsetting people, both of which are basically the ingredients of a traffic jam. Rain will just freeze up right there in the driver’s seat causing his passenger to have to lean over and take the wheel.

“I can’t do this anymore!!!”/ 10

Dewdrop- Dewdrop is a surprisingly good driver. He obeys the speed limit, makes sure whoever is in the car with him wears their seat belt and looks both ways before turning onto a different street. However, Dew doesn’t actually like to drive, so he came up with a plan. The one (and only) time he drove with Aether, Dew drove like a maniac so that he wouldn’t have to drive again. Rain is the only person that Dew will drive anywhere. Even though he won't admit it he has a soft spot for the younger ghoul.

“No Dew, you don’t have to drive”/ 10

Swiss - This ghoul is not allowed to drive. He often gets too distracted by the music or other cars or signs or… well you get the point. Swiss will offer to drive to give the current driver a break but is quickly met with a “no I’m good”. Swiss doesn’t really mind though, in all honestly he much rather be looking out the window or napping.

“SWISS! EYES ON THE ROAD!”/ 10

Mountain - As stated above Mountain is one of the better drivers. He is a pretty laid back guy so he doesn’t struggle with road rage. The only problem is his height. He will push the seat back as far as the car will allow him and sometimes that isn’t even enough. You better hope you’re not the one sitting behind him because you will have no leg room.

“I need to stretch my legs”/ 10

Aether - 85% of the time you will find Aether being the one to drive the other ghouls around. In fact he taught the other ghouls how to drive. Aether treats the road laws like they are a divine message. He is often the one who has to break up any squabbles between the ghouls during long trips. Aether will also lock the car five times before he finally feels like the car is truly locked.

“Don’t make me turn this car around!”/10

The Papas

Primo - As much as we all love Primo we have to face the facts- Primo drives like an old man. He’s not a bad driver but he is a slow one. The man insists that there is no reason for him to go above 50 km/h (30 mph). There is no budging him on this subject, so you might as well just sit back and try to distract yourself.

“We will get there when we get there”/ 10

Secondo - Secondo drives fast, like ‘buckle up and pray’ fast. The number of speeding tickets this man has gotten has now reached triple digits. Everyone in the clergy wonders how he even still has his license.

“But did you die?”/ 10

Terzo - NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE. Terzo once drove his car through the front door of the church because it was “faster than walking”. Needless to say his driving privileges were promptly taken away by the clergy.

Not even allowed to touch car keys/ 10

Copia - Copia is actually a pretty good driver and his skills have only gotten better. He has a lot of experience from driving Nihil and Sister Imperator around back when he was a Cardinol. Copia really enjoys going out for relaxing drives on his day off since it allows him to get some time with his thoughts.

Grace Kelly in a convertible vibes/ 10

Nihil - Also drives like an old man but very poorly. Nihil often runs into curbs, bushes, and anything else that is unfortunate enough to reside beside the road. The man is (was) practically blind so everyone is sure that his driver’s license expired about 20 years ago and he hasn’t updated it.

“Who put that there?”/ 10

#nameless ghouls #the band ghost #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #multi ghoul #papa copia #papa emeritus nihil #papa emeritus lll #papa terzo #primo emeritus #nameless ghoulettes #shitghosting

[therosebunpost]

Summer Vacation Regrets

—————

Steve Harrington x Disabled! Disfigured!Fem!Reader

The Summer where you finally get that major surgery, but for some reason you don’t want to hang out with Steve before it happens. (A prequel/drabble to my Regret Series)

TW: Underaged drinking, heavily discussion of surgery, self esteem issues, hospitals, mentions of a near death incident, Reader is as neutral as possible but this story is heavily influenced by my life and experiences, so there may be some incidental coding. (Please feel free to give me feed back on anyway I can make this better!)

(Not beta’d, so I apologize for grammar)

—————

Steve was looking forward to summer. He already had it mapped out. Taking a job at the pool as a lifeguard, he was determined to save up for a car by the time he was 16 years old. His parents were proud, he was proud, and you were proud. Proud enough to promise him that you’d make the trek to hang out with him at the pool as many times as your parents let you, or you could sneak away on your big, clunky three wheeled bike.

It’s why getting that call was so confusing.

“I…I can’t hang out with you at the pool anymore. At least not for a few months.”

“Months? How many??”

There was some muttering on the line that Steve couldn’t quite make out. Not that he was really focusing on it too much. Months? You wouldn’t hang out with him for months?

“Two, two months.”

He says your name, exasperated. “That’s almost the entire summer! We’ll only have a month left!”

More muttering, now he can hear the sudden pain in your voice. “Wait, it…it might be…the whole Summer, Stevie.”

“What?!”

“I just came back from my doctor. They say it’s finally time, that I’m so close to getting my prosthetic. I just need to um, do something else first. That I need to recover from. So, no pool or anything.”

That gets him to calm down, just a bit. Right, your appointment. Your surgery. “Well, alright. Then we’ll just hang out another way! You know there’s that movie coming out, maybe you can ask your mom-“

“I can’t.”

Steve blinks, once again confused. “O…kay. I’ll bring stuff over then! Or you can come over! Oh, we could hang out in my pool. Does your mom know I’m a lifeguard? I promise we’ll be super safe, and she can even stay over with you, we have the room-!”

“I don’t want you to see me!”

There was that pain in your voice again.

"Oh god Steve it's, it's so awful. They have to put this implant inside of me, and it's gonna end up looking like this growth on my face. I hate it, I hate this so fucking much." You finally break down on the phone and Steve takes a moment to gather what your saying.

Sometimes the things you went through confused him. He's known you for years at this point but your condition still didn't make a lot of sense to him. From what you've told him, it didn't make sense to your doctor's either.

"...So I can't see you at all? You really are gonna spend all summer alone?"

"We can still call." You rush to tell him, and Steve can imagine the way you strangle the phone cord in your hands. "I dont…i just don't want to be seen. But I'll call you. i'll call you everyday."

"...When is it? The..implant?"

"Next week. Im going to home school for the last weeks of school."

"Holy shit, your serious?"

"Yeah. It's…Its bad, Steve. I…I cried after they told me the plan. Right in the room with mom."

"...Will you at least come over one more time this week? At least come hang out at the pool once?"

"..I'll ask mom."

-.-.-

Your mom does say yes, and hanging out at the pool was just as fun as Steve thought it would be. Sure, you couldn't swim but you hung out with him in the guard chairs. You spent the night, and you both sneak out to hang by his pool, alone.

Steve, ever the bad influence at times, passes you the bottle of beer. "...Are you really not going to do anything? Or see anybody?"

"...I just…I think I was finally starting to accept my appearance and now this? For months? I just…I hate it so much. Its like the universe hates me."

"It's probably won't be as bad as you think, I mean-"

"It's gonna be pretty damn bad. like, it's gonna be the size of my cheek. Maybe even bigger! I'll look gross." You lean back against the warm ground.

"The doctor said they could do a skin graph but they wanted to use the skin on my face first so it matches better. But like come on, it's all my skin, the difference can't be that much! It's not like they had that issue trying to use a part of my rib as a prosthetic!"

"....Didn't you say that your body…like…sucked it back in and that's why it didn't work?"

".....Okay, fair but still! A balloon?? On my face? It's like they don't even fucking care how awful that's going to be.The stares I'll get, the grossed out faces. It's like, how do they expect me to live with that?"

Steve laid down with you, and while he didn't know a lot about what you were going on about, he knows your frustrated.

"Remember when you got that bar on your face? The metal one?"

You gave him a look. "..Yeah?"

"You lived after that. You survived."

"I was like, five."

"So? You gonna let a five year old be braver than you?"

"Oh that is not the same-"

"Okay, what about when you got that thing out of your stomach? The feeding thing-"

"My G-tube?"

"Yeah. You literally bragged about having your stomach stuff coming out of you and just living with it. We were like, ten?"

"Im still not over the fact that the doctors didn't believe me about it not closing all the way, those jackasses."

Steve says your name and you sigh. "Okay fine, but that was then and this is now. I'm older, I care more about myself."

Steve snickers and you reach over and shove at him. He makes a show of nearly falling into the pool which you scoff at.

"Last summer, you and I went out on a canoe together without a person with us. Mind you, you could have died if we tipped over. We gave the counselors a heart attack."

You laugh at the memory, the rebellion rushing through your veins. "I had you with me!"

For a moment Steve is taken aback, but he's quick to shake his head with a smile. "Obviously. But anyway, are you gonna let this get you? Are you just not gonna hang out with me because of a bunch of assholes? Do you think I'm an asshole?"

That makes you whip around to face him, aghast. "No, Steve what-"

He levels you with a long stare. "Then why do you think I'd care about it? You're my friend. I wanna spend the summer with you. Not just over the phone, which is bullshit because you hate phone calls anyway."

It's a moment like this where you ponder the real reason you don't want him to see you. The real reason that you refuse to acknowledge because it will never happen.

Only in fairy tales, or movies, or books. Things that happened to Pretty Girls, like the ones Steve talks about sometimes.

"...I'm scared." You whisper, softly. "...I'm really scared, Steve. This…this is going to change my life. I dunno if I'm ready for that." You look out at the water, which glows from the pool lights. "I've been told my whole life how this will fix things. Fix me. Getting this prosthetic, getting my trach taken out. There's gonna be a lot of benefits, yeah, but…I'm angry that I have to do this shit. I'm angry that it's something I just have to grin, and bare because there's no other fucking alternative."

Steve watches you as you talk. His eyes trained on the shape of your lips, the way the sounds are altered, the light of the pool on your face. You look…tired. More tired than anyone your age should be.

"....You know uh…worms?" He snickers a little when you furrow your eyes at him. "They go through that thing, that change thing."

"Metamorphosis."

"Yeah, metamor-whatever."

"Okay, end? Also those are caterpillars."

"Your a worm!"

"Caterpillar."

"Oh my god, shut up-"

You laugh, silent but obvious with the way your shoulders shake and you lean your head back.

"But like yeah, this is you going through your meta-thing. You're gonna be a pretty butterfly or Oh! A Swan. Yeah."

Pausing at his words, you can feel the heat creep up your cheeks. "...Pretty?" You echo, shy and just a little uncertain.

"Well duh. Really pretty." Steve insists, beaming at you. It's a brash, kinda backwards compliment but he's trying. He's really trying, and you aren't sure if you can keep shoving those fluttering feelings away.

-—————-

Those last three weeks of school pass. Steve doesn't get to see you until the first week of Summer, where he bikes all the way to your house. He had called to tell you he was coming, so he doesn't knock when he gets there.

"So, how did it go- Whoa-"

Well, you were not kidding. The implant was obvious. Very obvious, and Steve forced himself not to stare at it. Not that it mattered, since you were already crumbling away from him.

"It's awful, I know-" You gush, devastated. "Feels weird too." Your eyes are red rimmed from crying and Steve stands there awkwardly. Fuck, he was not good with crying.

"No! It's…Its not that bad. I just had a hard time picturing what it looked like when you told me." He explains, the words spilling from him. It was the truth, he really didn't know what to expect. "It's not bad, I swear on my collection of baseball cards, it's not!"

You narrow your eyes at him. "...Even the signed ones?"

"Yeah."

Your shoulders slowly relax and you rub at your eyes. You were always good at coming back from crying. Steve, well, he wishes he could bounce back that fast.

"..Wanna watch a movie?" He suggests, already heading into the living room. "Any one you want!"

-----

After that, the weeks passed and you slowly grew bored of keeping yourself locked away like some princess, or troll. You slowly started joining your mother on her errands. The implant grew and grew, but after a while you got used to it. Steve barely glanced at it anymore, instead focused on spending the summer with you, whenever you had the chance.

You do end up hanging out with him during lifeguard duties. He jokes about having you as his assistant whenever you bring him water or snacks, but you always retaliate with squirting at his hair with a water gun.

It's not all perfect. You do get stares. People sometimes avoid you, and kids your age are cruel, but Steve is there. He's getting popular, and with whatever grade school cred he has, he makes sure to use some of it to protect you.

It all shifts when the surgery finally arrives. You and Steve are sitting out by his pool again, now a month and a half older. "...I'm gonna miss you, at camp." He states, taking a sip of another beer.

"...Your still going??" You raise an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

"Because I like it? Besides, I'm thinking about being a counselor. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Well, I…I mean I'm not gonna be there." You state, and the words sound ridiculous as soon as you let them out. Steve laughs and you shove at him. "I'm gonna miss you, sure, but I still wanna go! I need to defend my swimming record, and I already have what I'm gonna wear for theme night! Wouldn't you still go if I couldn't?"

The way he says it, it sounds like the answer should be obvious. The camp was for people like you, after all.

He says your name after a moment, confused. "...Wouldn't you?"

"...I dunno." You admit after a moment, breathing in slowly. "....It's kinda fun, but sometimes I hate the atmosphere. I hate the way the counselors talk to me at times, like I'm stupid. I don't feel like…I'm disabled enough to warrant even being there. Hanging out with you, it actually makes me enjoy it. It feels like an actual camp."

Steve doesn't say anything for a while. You watch the way his brows furrow, and the contemplative frown on his lips. "...Does that mean…last year was your last year?"

You ponder it before shaking your head. "...I want to go with you." You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your swim suit. "If you become a counselor, then I will too! Like hell am I gonna let you boss me around even more."

He laughs, loud and clear. You're jealous, and awed all at the same time. "But I will probably stop one day, I think."

Steve nods, and you wonder if the sadness in his eyes is just a trick of the light.

----

The next morning, you go in for early surgery. Steve is antsy the whole day, though he isn't sure why. You were a pro at this! He's heard countless stories about your various surgeries, so why does this one feel so…great? Monumental?

He doesn't get to come see you until the next day. He walks in, holding a bouquet of flowers and a plush of your favorite animal. He hopes he doesn't look as tired as he feels. He woke up early at 6 AM, zoning out to Twilight Zone reruns until 8, where he stumbled around to get ready to see you again. It hadn't been that long ago, but it felt like maybe you had gone three months without seeing each other.

As he makes his way over to your room, he's reminded of an episode he watched. A hospital themed one. It kind of confused him, really. The woman got surgery to be beautiful, but it failed.

Steve turns a corner, and passes a plastic surgery office where he can hear the distant sounds of a meeting.

He remembers watching the bandages being removed, and thinking he heard them wrong. The woman was beautiful. The surgery was a success and yet…the hospital staff had recoiled. He had been blown away by the revelation of what the doctors and nurses looked like, and something in the back of his mind wished you could have seen it with him.

He steps into the hospital room, his eyes landing on you. Your face isn't fully bandaged up, but there's a strip of cloth that keeps your mouth shut. You look as exhausted as he feels. Your eyes slowly open to see him, only to become slightly panicked.

"Hey." He greets, slowly walking closer and settling down in the plastic chair beside your bed. You don't say anything, you can't, but Steve does. "Y'know, I'm kinda confused." He admits, gently placing the tiny stuffed toy on your bed. “I don’t think the doctors did much.” You make a noise of confusion, gesturing at the bandage on your face. Obviously they did, what was he even getting at here?

"No, really. Like sure, the balloon thing is gone, but you look the same to me, Miss Butterfly." He admits, leaning on his arms and gazing up at you. Watching as the words slowly register. You slowly smile, eyes shining with tears before you wince and grab at your notepad.

'Stop making me smile, my face hurts like a bitch. >:('

He laughs, shaking his head and reaching over to grab the remote for the TV. "I'll ask the nurse for more drugs, maybe you'll be a little nicer to me." He grins, and flips through the channels. "But hey, there's this episode I want you to see.."

Midway through the re-runs, you fall asleep. The drugs and the pain dragging you under. Steve sits there, his hand in yours. He eyes the IV, his thumb brushing against the bandage keeping it inside. His gaze travels up your arm, and lands on your face. Your expression wasn’t exactly peaceful, but he was glad you were resting.

“I was scared this morning.” He admits, emboldened by the silence. “I know you’re like, super good at all of this, but…yeah.” He trails off, letting his eyes slowly drift closed. “You do look really pretty. In your hospital bed, or..anywhere really. You always have.”

#thebunspeaks #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #fluffybunnycorner #steve x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve x fem!reader #steve x disabled!reader #steve x oc #steve harrington x disabled!reader #Steve x disfigured!reader #disfigured!reader #tw hospital #tw surgery #i hope you guys like it! #I’m a little worried that Steve is OOC here #but I tried my best XD

[jaytmann2]

How I discovered sex true story part 61.

Another week rolled by and it was Saturday. I got out of bed around lunch time and I walked out of my room and walked to the lounge room completely naked. I was still stretching and yawning as I walked in to find Brad, his friend Peter and his girlfriend all sitting around the table only metres away from me all 3 of them looking straight at me. My hands quickly cupped my cock covering myself up in shock! Brad says "good afternoon sleeping beauty" in a mocking tone. I run back to my room quickly put my light grey tight boxer briefs on and my black Addidas t-shirt I had hanging over my desk chair I'd worn the night before as Brad called out for me. I walked back in as Brad said "your mum called earlier, they are going to have to stay a bit longer so we might fly down to see everyone for your birthday" yep my 15th birthday was getting close. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, I looked up and I recognised Peter's girlfriend! Her name was Jessie, she was the woman who walked in on me after I'd had a shower the night of Brad's birthday. Brad asked me to put the kettle which I did. I left and put some grey trackies, socks and shoes on and went to brush my teeth.

Brad and Peter spent the afternoon drinking Beer. I made cups of Coffee for Jessie, Brad put music on the stereo and Every one was having a good time. It was around diner time when Jessie said she'd go get us all fish n chips. I made a list with her of what we all wanted, Jessies asked if I wanted to come with her so I gladly agreed. We went to her car which was a cool as hell little Toyota Celica, bright red, wire mag wheels, the chrome bumpers sparkled, it really suited her. We hoped in and she started the engine, it sounded loud and I noticed her skin tight short black dress had riden up her shapely thighs and I could see the bottom of her pink panties. We drove out of the driveway and turned toward town.

As Jessie drove, her long shapely legs stretching and moving each time she used the clutch to change gear had her dress riding up giving me a clear view of her bright pink underwear. The tight suspension of her car made her tits giggle under her baggy black woolen jumper, her long black wavey hair blowing in the wind coming from her open window, she had very dark eye makeup on and red lipstick. She looked hot as hell. She noticed me looking and asked "what's wrong?" I said "nothing, I was just looking at how pretty you are" trying to sound confident! She said "oh you're so sweet kiddo" I rolled my eyes and she noticed and asked why? I said "I hate being called kiddo, I know I look like I'm 12 fucking years old, I'm short and I look like a kid" Jessie apologised and I said sorry for my rant. She said " yeah you look young but that's a good thing because when you get older you'll look younger and that'll be cool" I said "you look pretty young" she said how old do you think I am, I said about 23yo (thinking she was my mum's age of 35yo) and she said "oh thank you, I'm actually 28yo. She said "and as for you being short, you're the same height as me and I'm a short arse" we laughed and she said "and there's a couple of parts of you that don't look 14yo" I said "what parts?" She said "doesn't matter" and quickly said "no, you gotta tell me now" and she said "that dick and arse of yours!" I said "Ummmah, you looked at me naked, that's naughty" she said "well it's kinda hard not to notice" and said "pity you're not 10 years older!" As we pulled up to the fish and chip shop. She opened her door and threw her right leg out and started getting out of her car, I looked down at her arse to see her bare arse cheeks as her tight dress rode up and once she stood up she pulled her dress down not before I made sure to look at her pussy. My cock started to swell as I got out and we walked into the fish n chip shop. She started reading out the order as she stood up on her toes as she was bare foot and her shapely round arse looked firm and proud, there was two guys waiting in the shop which were also checking her arse out. Once Jessie finished ordering I quickly pulled the $50 note out of my pocket to pay before Jessie could get her purse open. She looked at me and said "oh what a gentleman" the young girl behind the counter said "quite the ladies man huh" and smiled. She was cute and probably in her late teens. I smiled awkwardly as Jessie said "I'm going out for a smoke" I said I'll follow you. Jessie opened the passenger door and bent over into her car as she put her purse into the console and got a cigarette and her lighter, her tight dress rode right up showing me most of her arse, her bright pink Gstring was really tiny and barely covered her pussy showing most of her pink hairless pussy lips and the thin pink sting going up her butt crack did nothing to hide her dark pink arsehole. I was frozen staring as she got out of her car pulling her dress back down. She turned to me and said "don't make it too obvious will you" as she smiled. All I said was "what?" She said "if you stare any harder your eyes will fall out of your head" I said "sorry" she snaps back with "no you're not" in a funny mocking tone.

I smiled sheepishly. She lite her cigarette and took a big puff on it. Curiously I said "what did you mean when you said its a pity I'm not 10years older before?" She looked at me and said point blank "if you were older, I could have found a few good uses for that bad boy you're hiding down there" glancing down as she said "well maybe not doing too well to hide it" as I looked down, my cock was around half hard and laying on my side pointing toward my right hip, my grey trackies doing nothing to hide anything. She puffed away on her cigarette while I did nothing to hide my swelling erection. Jessie was standing there, I was admiring how her round hips looked in that tight black dress, her baggy black woolen jumper was in a loose weave with lots holes all over it showing a hint of her small cleavage under her dress. A little while later there was a knock on the window as we both turned towards the shop window, the young girl was holding two large packs of paper wrapped food as she looked down as her eyes went wild as she noticed my now fully erect cock thru my grey trackies. Jessie looked down and said "you'd better get in the car hun, I'll get the food" I went into the car and sat in the seat, closed the door and put my seatbelt on pulling it tight. Jessie exits the shop with a massive grin, and walks to her door, opens it, bends in and then looks directly at my crotch, the tight seatbelt has pulled my trackies in tight and now my cock stood out big time, as I looked down, you could even see the shape of my cock head the ridge and the base of its head and the shape of my balls. Jessie huffed and said "dam" under her breathe as she handed me the food. Once she got it the car she said "the young girl in the shop said to tell your little brother l said hi there" and Jessie laughed as she started her car, hanging a tight U turn as the back wheels screeched and span whipping the car around as we sped off. Once again, the front of Jessies pink Gstring was on full display. She said "you like what you see huh?" With a real cheeky tone I said "nope no I don't" as I smiled "I'd like it much better if you didn't have that Gstring on" Jessies face beamed as she laughed and said "dam you're pretty smooth for a 14yo aren't you!" I just smiled as we drove back to my place. Once again I made sure to get a good look at her bare arse as she got out of the car and I also got a great look up her short tight dress as she walked up our back stairs as I followed behind her.

[littlemissagrafina]

Even Children Grow Up

A very, very late birthday fic for @justt-ppeachy

@comfortember Day 10. Breakdown + 27. Proud + 30. Moving Forward

Summary: He looked up, frowning slightly as he stared at Peter standing in the doorway.

"...Kid?"

"Hello there." Peter smirked, but underneath it was clear to see that he was nervous about something so Tony straightened and wheeled one of the extra lab stools towards him. He gestured to it with his head, and Peter crossed the room to settle on the chair.

"I need your help." The teen said.

Or

3 Times Tony realized Peter was growing up and the 1 time he knew he was already there.

Read on AO3

It wasn't as if Tony didn’t know how old Peter was. Peter's age wasn't something that Tony would forget, not after being without him for five years, or dealing with the knowledge that his kid had been swinging around the city since he was only fourteen. 

Tony may not have known him since the very beginning of it all, but he'd been there in the years since and both he and May could attest to the fact that it never got easier for them to handle Peter going out and up against the very worst of the city they called home.

Hell, the kid was just that. He was still a kid, and Tony found it difficult to think of him as anything other than that, especially after he and Pepper had Morgan. The little girl bringing out Peter's childlike side in ways that Tony hadn't seen before.

The loss and subsequent return of Peter and the rest of those who had been snapped by Thanos had instilled a heightened awareness of just how much Tony had left with all of the people he cared about. But somehow, he hadn't quite reconciled the fact that Peter being back meant he would continue to grow and to change. 

It was almost ironic. Where before, during the five years after the first snap, Tony had mourned the fact that Peter would never grow up, he now felt the opposite. Every time something happened to make Tony realise Peter was growing and getting older, the older man felt as if he was losing his kid.

And it just seemed as if those moments were happening faster and faster, leaving Tony behind as he tried to grapple with the reality that one day Peter wouldn't need him anymore.

~

1. Relationship advice

One of the first times that Tony truly realised the ways that Peter was growing happened just months after the reversal of the snap.

School had been put on a back-burner in most of the world following the return of billions if the population, but once the world was deemed settled enough– something Tony scoffed at because how could anything be settled in just months?– students across the globe found themselves back in their desks, moving on almost as if nothing had changed at all.

Tony knew that Peter was both excited and nervous to be back at Midtown. The teen had been lucky, or unlucky depending on how you looked at it, that very few of his classmates had been a part of those left behind in the first snap. It was something that made returning to class a bit easier for him, but he had told Tony that he was still unsure about just going back to normal.

Tony had almost chuckled, stating that he would be surprised if Peter wasn't unsure after everything that had happened, but both he and May and had made sure to reassure Peter that if he needed to, he could go back to school at a later time.

Even so, the kid had decided to take the dive and go back into the flow of high school life along with his friends. But Tony knew he'd had some days where he'd struggled with the way that the world had seemed to just move on after the Snap, and he'd had days where he felt as if he was moving on from the five lost years just as easily as those around him.

So when Peter had come to stay at the lake house for the weekend, Tony hadn't been surprised at the bounce in the teenager's step or his happy grin. Peter was, after all, one of the most bubbly people that Tony had ever met.

He was, however, surprised when later that night, Peter had knocked on the door to the small lab Tony had built up in the garage. The kid hadn't knocked on the lab door since the first few months after they had made his fake internship a real one.

He looked up, frowning slightly as he stared at Peter standing in the doorway.

"...Kid?"

"Hello there." Peter smirked, but underneath it was clear to see that he was nervous about something so Tony straightened and wheeled one of the extra lab stools towards him. He gestured to it with his head, and Peter crossed the room to settle on the chair.

"I need your help." The teen said.

Instead of speaking, Tony waited for Peter to continue. Sometimes he needed a little time to get his thought process together, and who was Tony to try and rush him alone. Thor knew how bad Tony was at keeping track of a train of thought at times. 

So he sat quietly, taking comfort in the fact that despite Peter saying he needed help, he didn't seem too anxious or upset. 

After a few moments, he was rewarded by Peter lifting his legs up to sit criss cross applesauce on his stool and shifting his compleye attention to the older man. And, honestly, Tony envied the kid’s balance at times. 

"What can I do, Bud?" Tony asked simply and saw Peter take a breath before answering.

"You know how MJ right?" The teen asked and Tony nodded slowly. 

"We'regoionadatendIneyorelp." 

The words fell in a jumble that Tony didn't even try to unscramble. He raised an amused eyebrow. "You mind saying that again, Pete?" He chuckled. "Maybe a little slower this time?"

"We're going on a date. MJ and I. And I need your help." Peter said again, thankfully much slower and more clearly than his first attempt.

Tony was momentarily blindsided before a warmth filled his chest as the words registered properly. "Always, Kid." He smiled at Peter, and his chest warmed even more when the nervousness shining in the teenager's eyes disappeared completely.

"Now," Tony clapped a hand on Peyer shoulder. "Tell me what we're working with here, Roo." And grinned as Peter launched into a tangent.

"So, MJ isn't into all that super girly stuff, right? But I know that she does have a bit of a romantic side too. I mean, I've seen a few classic romance or love books or whatever that are in her reading piles. So I don't want to do something that dismisses her feelings over being treated a certain way because of the stereotypes of being a girl. But I don't know what to do or where to take her that can be a little romantic too.

Mr. Stark help meeee." 

Tony was momentarily floored at the level of thought that Peter had obviously put into it, and how he genuinely wanted to do something that MJ would enjoy. For the first time since the reversal snap, Tony realised that Peter was really there and growing up and moving forward.

It felt like just last week that the kid had been fifteen and freaking out with Ned over a new Lego death star. Now, he was nervous and asking for help to plan the first date of what could turn out to be his first serious relationship. 

He shook away the train of thought. Peter had asked him for help and he was sure as hell going to step up and help. He could deal with his little revelation later. "Okay, here's what gonna happen, Pete." He dragged forward a hologram and gestured for it to hover in front of the teen. "We're gonna make a list of what you know MJ likes doing, and what you like doing too because you should have fun with this as well, yeah?" 

Peter nodded.

"Then, we're going to condense them into ones that fall into bitter categories and then we're gonna call in Pep for help so that she can help us with adding something a little romancy to it, how's that sound?"

Tony was rewarded by a brilliant smile and arms being flung around him.

"Thank you!"

~

2. Spiderman SOS

"Shit!" Peter yelped, ducking out of the way of a piece of steel rebar as it struck the wall of the building right where his head had been just a second before.

It was followed by three more, but Peter had just been able to shoot a week to pull himself away from them. Angry jeers and more projectiles shadowed him almost too closely.

Chancing a glance behind him as he swang around a corner, Peter's heart sank as he saw the damage that had already been done to two of the nearby apartment buildings. 

He never would have thought that getting Toomes locked up would be something that bit him in the ass over six years later, but here he was.

A glowing, purple orb whistled through the air and Peter let himself drop, bracing himself against a building as he shot a web at the chitari orb and swung it as far and high as he could before it detonated. He was lucky, the blast only just shaking some dust from the building, but he knew he wouldn't be quite as lucky if he kept up the way he was now. There were just two many for him to keep himself, civilians, and buildings safe.

"I need help." He murmured to himself.

"Karen! Call Mr Stark!"

~

Whatever call that Tony could have expected from Peter on a Thursday night, it wasn't this one. Although, considering who exactly Peter was, maybe he should have. Anyway, potato potato.

"Boss, you have an incoming call from Peter."

Tony waved his hand, knowing Friday would connect the call. "What's shaking, Kid? Homework by any chance?"

Tony's naive hope that Peter was home and not out causing shenanigans was dashed even as he thought of it. Who was he kidding, one of the things he admired about the kid was his endless ability to get into trouble even when his intentions were (almost always) good.

"Mr Stark, I've got a few of Toomes' buddies tailing me. There's too many for me to handle on my own and keep the damage and injuries down. Think you can send some back up?" Peter asked, the sound of his webs and small explosions were clear for Tony to hear over the call.

"I'll be there in five, Pete. You good to hold em' off until then?" Tony asked him, already activating his suit, the nanobots not even fully formed yet before he stepped out of the window Friday had opened for him.

He engaged the suit's thrusters, Peter's affirmative only just coming over the call line as he shot off towards Peter's location.

He arrived in three minutes, spinning out of the way of a small purple explosion. He dove, tackling one of the six baddies almost out of the air, allowing Peter to knock out and web up two of the others while they were distracted by Tony's entrance.

Iron Man and Spidey: 3

Crooks: 0

"Take that!" Peter crowed, latching a web onto the boot of Tony's suit and using it to launch himself at one of the three remaining men as they started shooting again. Tony cut the thrusters and dropped a few feet to get in closer range to the other two, raising his 'Force Shield' as Peter liked to call it.

The pale blue, glowing, energy field succeeding in deflecting and absorbing some of the chitauri energy of the small explosives that the last three of Toomes' old buddies seemed so fond of. 

Tony took advantage of a momentary pause in their assault and sent out a small modified EMP that he'd developed for the sole reason of knocking his enemies unconscious. He only used it when he had assurance that it would work, the decent energy surge it needed often rendering his suit less powerful in its own attack while the modified arc reactor upped the power levels again.

"They're out for the count, Boss." Friday's lilting voice said.

Tony hummed, turning to face Peter who had already webbed up the other guys, two of whom were unconscious, the other two glaring from behind the webs covering their lower faces and mouths. He watched as Peter knelt before each of them, checking their pulses for himself even though Tony knew that Karen had more than likely already confirmed that there wasn't anything life threatening other than minor scrapes and bruises.

He was struck by the difference in the way Peter handled things while he did his Spider-Man duties. Gone was the fourteen year old kid who had only wanted to prove he was capable and good enough to be an Avenger. Instead, Peter had grown into his role as Queens' protector; his maturity clearly seen in asking Tony for back-up. 

Peter had seen that he'd been in a bit over his head, had acknowledged that he couldn't always do it all on his own, and had trusted Tony to have his back.

And Tony was proud. Peter was growing and changing almost faster than he could cope with at times, but damn if he didn't admire the person his kid was becoming. Hell, the one he had become already.

Tony let his helmet lower. "Good job, Kid!" He held his fist up towards Peter, who's grin was visible even from under his mask, and knocked their fists together as he smiled proudly back.

~

3. Graduation 

Tony watched almost dizzily as Peter paced in circles around the living room, rambling on about the schedule for the day (as well as one hundred and one topics that related to the event in ways that only Peter could string together) and snapping his fingers and fidgeting with his hands until it so much that it started making Tony himself anxious.

Tony stood smoothly, ignoring the slight twinge of pain that coursed through his right shoulder and down his arm, grateful for the nanobot support that he, Peter, Shuri, and Cho had designed for his arm. As Tony moved to stop Peter as he rounded the couch close to where Tony had been sitting, he slid a hand into his pocket, pulling out a small bracelet almost identical to the kimoyo beads that Shuri had shown him.

This one, although it was also made from vibranium, wasn't designed for communication or any other technological uses. It was basically an indestructible fidget toy, which was exactly why Tony had made it.

The small vibranium balls could easily be pulled apart from each other and stick back together, a fact that Tony watched Peter figure out almost immediately when Tony handed it to him as the teen paced by Tony. 

Peter carried on circling the room, rolling the vibranium between his fingers. His hand twisted and pulled at it for a few minutes before he looked down at it. His head tilted and he looked up at Tony with the most adorably confused, puppy-like expression he'd seen. And it was Peter, he'd seen a lot of puppy-like faces from the kid.

"Spider proof fidget toy, Bud." Tony answered, knowing Peter would ask about it. "Shuri helped out to modify and remove the tech from it so it really is just a super strength safe fidget. You were starting to make me dizzy there with your pacing."

Peter flushed, a sheepish smile on his face as he shrugged. "Sorry. I'm nervous."

Tony huffed out a laugh and stood again, walking up to Peter and grasping his shoulders in his hands. "Believe me, I know." He said before he moved to sling an arm around Peter's shoulders and led him to one of the couches. He nudged Peter towards it before sitting on the coffee table in front of it.

"C'mon. Walk me through it all. I know that you know what you're doing. So while you tell me, I want you to focus and see that you know it. Because you do, Pete, and this is gonna be a piece of cake."

Peter exhaled shakily, before he slipped the beads over his hand and sat up straight.

"I'm going to have my notes, but I'm not gonna need them because I know it. I'm gonna follow on from MJ and–"

~

Tony grinned, sharing a proud look with May as Peter stood and made his way to the podium, fist bumping MJ as she walked past him after her own speech.

Tony watched as he squared his shoulders, took a breath, and smiled out at the crowd.

"Happy graduation Midtown!" He started, and Tony couldn't help the tears starting to sting his eyes if he tried. His kid was graduating. He was going into adult life, hell, he was an adult in many ways already. His maturity had proven it time and time again.

It was sad, and it was terrifying, but it was also exciting. His kid, May's kid, was growing up, and he couldn't wait to see everything he would become

~

+1. Nightmares

Peter flopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up onto Tony's lap as he did. Tony groaned, dropping his head back against the cushioned back dramatically.

"Pete, why must you insist on slamming various limbs into me anytime I'm sitting on a couch. You do know you're very boney and heavy, no?"

Peter shook his head with a grin. "Nope. And one," he said, holding up a finger, "I'm not heavy. A fact we both proved was cuz of my spideryness. And two," he held up a second finger, "I may be bony but that's a you problem to deal with. You brought it upon yourself in letting me have hugging rights those years ago. And now you've unleashed the beast. Deal with it, Dad."

Tony's heart swelled at the moniker. It was a relatively new thing, but it never failed to make him smile each time that Peter called him Dad.

He leant over and poked at Peter's side, laughing when Peter batted at his hand as he tried to squirm away, almost falling off the couch. "I suppose I did. Wouldn't change it, though. Even when you attack me with wayward limbs and leave me with grey hairs."

Peter grinned at him, eyes glittering. "Sap."

Tony just shrugged. "Ehh. I have a lot to be sappy about. Now go make the popcorn, would ya? Morgan won't eat it anymore unless you make it. She says that I burn it."

"That's 'cuz you do burn it." 

~

His lungs burned from the smoke and dust, clouds of it buffeting and swirling until Peter could barely see. His arms shook from the weight of the rubble trying to crush down on him, bits of dirt and broken cement and rebar still falling around him.

The load shifted, a tearing pain searing through his shoulder, and Peter buckled. It felt as if he was holding more than just the warehouse, it felt as if he was holding the entire sky. 

Voices echoed in his ears, a taunting blend of Toomes and Beck goading him. They flickered, only to be replaced by someone far worse.

Tony.

He lay crumpled on the ground at Peter's feet. His suit mangled around him, edges dented and some places ripped entirely open, crimson staining torn edges.

More weight shifted, and this time Peter did buckle. His knees slammed into the uneven and broken ground, agony shooting up his thighs as they strained and shook.

"No. No, no, no, hold it. Please." Peter heard himself beg, breath coming I'm harsh pants, dust and smoke choking him.

In front of him, Tony stirred. His eyes blinked open slowly, his skin almost white and expression creased in pain. He met Peter's eyes, something Peter didn't want to face flickering in them as he took in their positions.

"Mr Stark. Dad. You need to go. You need to leave. Please!"

"I can't."

Peter shook his head, ignoring that he couldn't feel his arms anymore. "Yes, you can! You need to!"

"Pete. I can't move." Tony's voice was rough. "The suit is dead and I- I'm hurt, Buddy. I'm not-" He breathed in shuddering and weak breath, a wheezing and wet sound echoed in his chest.

Peter's heart dropped, his hold slipping and rubble rained down around them.

Something hard struck him in the back, Toomes' and Beck's jeers echoed as everything crashed down.

And Peter screamed.

~

Tony wrestled Peter's flying limbs, talking desperately as he tried to get Peter to wake up. All the while, Peter's breathing got faster, his terror filled yells imprinted in Tony's mind.

Finally, finally, Peter woke up. His entire body lurching as he hiccuped, sobbing breaths catching as Tony helped him free himself from the tangled blanket, while making sure he didn't take a tumble from the couch, and dragged him into his arms.

With one hand, he started running his fingers slowly through Peter's hair, with the other he held one of Peter's hands against his own chest. He recited different measurements and formulas that were used both with their suits and and Peter's webs, stuff that Peter knew like the back of his hand.

It was one of the few things that could ground him and help his brain to focus on something else after a bad nightmare, and from the still hitching breaths and sobs, Tony knew this was a bad one.

Tony rocked them back and forth slightly, subconsciously mimicking the rhythm for when he had rocked Morgan to sleep years prior. He kept up a steady, yet quiet stream of words, only slowing once Peter's breath hand evened out and his sobs turned to slight sniffles.

His chest tightened at how easily he had slipped back into their old routine for when Peter was plagued by night terrors. It had been a long while since there had been one this bad, and although Tony knew from his own that they never truly went away, he had hoped that it would be different for Peter.

As the teenager clung to him, inhaling steadily in time with Tony's own breaths, Tony's heart ached with the desire to shelter him and protect him.

He knew he couldn't, though. Peter had to grow into his own and make his way in his life and future, and Tony refused to hold him back. Sheltering him and keeping him close, none of it would work. Peter would still go out as Spider-Man, he would still go off to college, take MJ out on dates, and experience life.

But it didn't mean that he wouldn't be there for when Peter did need him. Because even as he grew, Tony knew he would still need help, and care, and support. Maybe not in the same way he had previously, but that was okay.

Peter was growing, and Tony was so proud of him. But he would still be Tony's kid, and nothing would ever change that. No matter how old he was

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #fanfiction #mcu #irondad and spiderson #comfortember #iron man #spiderman #growing up

[fakesurprise]

I leapt from one branch to another, eating a Lipcox apple to get rid of the taste of last night’s tonic from my mouth. It was Mom’s variation on a Cox’s Orange Pippin, more resistant to disease and a bit more like a pear. The taste hadn’t changed in the last two years, which meant she was either happy with it or about to scrap it for something else. I caught a branch in my left hand, swung myself up as I pocketed the apple core and climbed up Old Reliable, my name for one the tallest trees near Bingo. I couldn’t see as far out as Circle Drive, but I could see the hills, some of the farms and the town proper without being seen.

I’d spent a lot of time watching from this tree and others before mom had decided that it was safe for me to start making friends. The town had grown in that time, but in a perfectly reasonable way. Entire streets and sidewalks were laid out already for expansion that might never come: having a secret town was one thing, but keeping it secret was much harder after a certain point. Most everyone agreed on that, just not what the point was. I stretched, digging my toes into the bark of a branch and watched as a handful of early risers checked the phone lines. Most of them were sheathed for protection against both elements and people. Newer lines were being run underground as a test, but the old ones were still checked each day for deficiencies just in case.

Two bored soldiers did that, as no soldier went anywhere alone around Bingo. They had flashlights in hand since it was an hour until dawn proper. Two guns and a gas mask each. Presumably knives and the anti-bear spray Lady Dulton had invented. My eyes were good, but from this distance I couldn’t make out anything else. Nothing that jumped out as being extra, and I didn’t know if that was bad or good.

Four sparkers were wheeled out of buildings as I watched, electricity cracking out of them to lit the street lights for the day and turn on generators for businesses. They were being pushed in their wooden and bakelite chairs by handlers, twitching as electricity ran through and out of their bodies. Touching a sparker directly was fatal if you weren’t careful, and the air about them constantly crackled with ozone. Edison was proud of them, but not enough to let them be seen by the wider world.

They were moved slowly along the paved roads and sidewalks and the town began to wake up in time for early risers heading to various businesses for morning shifts. People gave the handler’s of the sparks professional nods but kept a distance. I didn’t see any other sparkers wheeled out. It was normally five or six used each morning but they did need rest from their own power so the number varied.

Nothing struck me as odd, and I was about to drop down to the loam when I spotted a familiar figure moving along third street toward the north end of town. Grace’s hair was long and blond and Max had flatly refused to let her cut it so it was just past her waist. Sneakers, jeans, sweater: nothing for a long walk in the woods, but she was making a decent pace and trying not to draw attention. Grace had a trick for doing that, when she wanted to, but she mostly didn’t use it. No one was paying any real attention to her, which wasn’t a surprise: everyone knew about failures in Bingo, and mostly left them alone in the mistaken belief most of them weren’t dangerous.

#writing #prose #camp nano july 2023 #campnanowrimo #Bingo

[noelle1508]

Trouble

You and Ben had always had a troublesome daughter since she reached her pre-teen/teenage years. 

Since she started secondary school she was always getting into fights, talking back to the teachers, walking out of class, not going to class. To sum it up she is a teacher worst nightmare.

You and Ben weren't proud of the way your daughter acted. "She's 16 years old acting like a 4 year old" As Ben would always say.

Now the two of you were in her headmasters office talking about how she is now suspended after her fourth fight this term. Ben sat with anger written all over his face while you sat with disappointment.

"So we will need to suspend Lucy for a week. During the suspension we ask that she continues to do work from home and she receives a respectable punishment to ensure this doesn't happen again. Lucy is a bright student, we wouldn't want her talent to go to waste"

"She will most definitely receive a punishment Mr Andrews and it won't happen again. Will it Lucy?" Ben says angrily looking at his daughter

"No" Lucy mumbles looking at Ben

"I'll let you go now, maybe have a family conversation on why this keeps occurring?" Mr Andrews says more quietly to you as Ben and your daughter are already half way out the door

"We will Mr Andrews. Thank you and I'm sorry again"

"Don't apologise Mrs Chilwell, she's a bright student. I just hope she doesn't let herself down"

"Me too"

The car ride home was complete silence. You could feel the tension as Ben gripped the wheel and his jaw clenched. He was asked to leave training to come in for the meeting. You worked from home so you weren't too bothered but Ben was livid.

As soon as we got home you and Lucy walked in first, when Ben stepped in he slammed the door

"Okay we how we're going to start this little chat is you handing me your phone"

Ben has always been the more stricter parent. He's not one to stay calm when he's angry, you on thee other hand. You talk to her calmly,

Lucy reluctantly hands over her phone and sit down on the sofa

"So fourth fight of this term, why this time Lou?"

"Doesn't matter"

"It's does matter if you're fighting about it Lucy! You can't keep acting like this, your mum and i have jobs to do! We can go sit in your headmasters office on a Wednesday afternoon!"

"Where did our girl go honestly? Where did the girl go that used to run up and hug her dad when he arrived home from work? Where did the girl go that would stand on a chair to help her mum with the dishes? Where did the girl go that would help everyone around her in school? That little girl would never start fights or get suspended"

"Ben, relax a bit. Shouting will get us nowhere" You say, trying to relax the situation

"No Y/N i feel like shouting will be the only way she understands how frustrating and upsetting this actually is. She can't keep acting like this"

"She is standing right here" Lucy starts shouting

Great. Just what you need.

"No you're starting to shout?"

Here goes the shouting match again...

"You want to know where that little girl went dad? You really want to know?"

"Yes Lucy please inform me!"

"That little girl grew up! That little girl is tried, she exhausted and she's gave up being 'the good girl'. Do you know how hard it was to leave Leicester? Leave my friends behind, leave family behind? Now i'm in a complete different city, over two hours away from people i love. I had to leave my boyfriend who i was so happy with by the way. I never see you anymore because you're always at training. God i turned sixteen and you left my party early because you had to go to a game. Maybe it is me acting like a four year old but all i wanted was a little attention from my Dad again. And the fight today, this girl was picking on a year seven so i told her to leave her alone. She threw the first punch. You always think it's me starting fights when i'm reality you never gave me a chance to explain. You just take my phone away and started a shouting match before sending my up to me room. So if you're so desperate to find out where you prefect little girl went there's your explanation”

Ben stands in complete shock and the room fills with silence. Lucy walks upstairs and Ben moves to the sofa, his hands starting to shake

"I've broke her, i've broke my girl, i've hurt her"

"Ben you just didn't realise, i didn't realise either but i do think you owe her and apology"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I'll go-"

"No Ben, give her some space the now"

"I never meant to hurt her"

"I know you didn't Ben"

An hour passes and Ben still sits on the couch shaking

"Ben please go upstairs to talk to her, i can't stand seeing you like this"

Ben stands up immediately and walks upstairs to his daughters room, knocking before hearing a come in, when he enters the room

"What are you doing?" Ben asks gently, leaning against the door frame

"i'm revising, got a test coming up"

"what in?"

"History"

"Ah nice"

"Cut the small chat you two, talk" You say poking your head into the room

“Lucy, i want to apologise. I’m sorry i didn’t notice how much this was effecting you. I’m also sorry that i blamed you for starting the fights”

“I just wish you had noticed without me saying it and i wish it was sooner”

“I know, i was in the wrong and i didn’t think about how this big change could effect you. I’m sorry my attention hasn’t been on you. In the future i will start to pay attention more, but it also helps if you talk to me if you’re unhappy then we can work things out”

“Yeah that sounds good” Lucy nods in agreement

“Are you too old to give your Dad a hug?”

“Never too old Dad”

#ben chilwell #teenage daughter #football #chelsea

[trainsinanime]

I really wish Robert from Aging Wheels did a review of the e.Go Life. You never heard of Aging Wheels? He does Youtube videos about weird cars.

You never heard about the e.Go Life? It's this:

A small electric car built by a start-up company in Aachen, Germany, where I live. These pictures were taken at their factory, actually. The company recently filed for its second bankruptcy, and literally nobody believes that they'll ever make cars again. It's closely related to Streetscooter, a company that built electric vans for the German postal service, but that's a whole other story.

The e.Go Life is right within the Aging Wheelhouse. Now, I strongly believe that this video will never happen. For one, I don't think anyone's ever been stupid enough to bring one of those to the US, and I think it's honestly not that interesting compared to the even smaller home-built things he usually (for some definition of "usually") he reviews. They built a four-digit number of them, after all (around 1350), so it's almost mainstream.

Small City Car

In a wider sense I think it's interesting to talk about the idea of the small electric city car. For decades now, people have been telling us that we should buy small electric city cars; cars that can cover 90-95% of our driving, and rent cars or (in Europe) take the train for longer distances. And this has never worked out, people just don't buy these cars. Why is that?

Well, first reason is because they all cost way too much, obviously. They cost too much because they're built in low numbers, and with low numbers of sales there isn't the money to get the degree of production scale and automation necessary to get the price down.

e.Go (and Streetscooter) claimed to solve that issue with their special production method, and in fact both projects were born out of the production systems chair at the local RWTH Aachen University. Certainly some impressive stuff. They had their own local 5G network in the factory for network-enabled torque wrenches, which they were very proud of.

History

Perhaps a good time to mention the history and relationships here: Streetscooter was originally set up to build a small electric city car. Here's a prototype in 2013.

Then they also designed a small electric delivery van. Then the German Post/DHL wanted small electric delivery vans, and unlike, say, the stupid stuff the USPS is doing, they actually did something about it, bought Streetscooter, and turned it into a real company. I think they built about 15,000 so far, most for the German Post but also some for third parties. Then the German Post got new management which found that the economics were not as rosy as they thought, they tried to sell the company, the new owner declared bankruptcy, right now the professor who founded this is back in charge, and I have no idea whether any production is actually happening anymore.

e.Go was then set up by the people that founded Streetscooter to build a small electric city car, seemingly going back to the original vision (although the specific story of how they came to the e.Go Life in its modern form is a bit convoluted as well. Apparently JIRA boards were involved). Both companies were founded in and produced in Aachen, Streetscooter at the old Talbot train factory (unrelated to any car company ever named Talbot), e.Go in a newly built factory. They're also both unified by being based around new innovative production methods that allow you to build cars, even in small runs, more efficiently and cheaply than the big manufacturers with all their steel presses and what have you.

Except not. Neither e.Go nor the much more successful Streetscooter ever managed to build as many vehicles per year as planned, and the prices were also by no means exceptionally low. The promise of better production methods just couldn't be kept. The professor who started it all keeps complaining about how German government and German post aren't doing enough to support small new promising car manufacturers, but there have been people arguing that he knew what the conditions were, his promises were just too bold. Impossible for me to say from the outside, but that doesn't sound all wrong.

So, production costs are an issue, and e.Go didn't solve it. But I think that hits at most 50% of the issue.

City Car is an oxymoron

I think there's not actually a market for a city car, and you can reach that conclusion from multiple directions.

The first is that cars don't actually make much sense in the city, and making the car smaller doesn't change that a lot. Mercedes used to talk big about their Smart car, but the reality is that the best Mercedes for city driving is the biggest and most expensive one:

You have no issue with parking spaces because it doesn't need to park, it just leaves when you're done with it, and when you need it again, it appears within fifteen minutes or so. You don't need to pay attention to traffic, a professional paid driver will do that for you. The one in this picture is even electric.

Our cities are full with cars, and it's making everyone miserable, including the people who drive cars. They are constantly complaining that there aren't enough roads and parking spaces and too many traffic lights everywhere. Say what you will about the e.Go Life, but at the end of the day, it's still a car. Maybe it takes up 60% of the size of a normal car, and it fits in the special extra-short parking spaces in some of Aachen's absolutely bizarre parking garages, but at the end of the day, still a car. Together with safety margins, it takes up maybe one or two meters less road, big whoop. You definitely won't fit two of these into one parking space. Its advantage over a regular car is, at best, cheap and electric.

So if you don't particularly like cars, this one won't change your mind. Bus, bike, e-bike, cargo bike, scooter and who knows, maybe even a tram in the future, are all solutions that are much cheaper and in many ways more useful for getting around the city.

On the other hand, if you do like cars and do like driving into city centres, this offers basically no advantages over a normal full-size car. The only thing you can say is that by being small, it offers electric at a reasonable price, but as we saw, that's very debatable.

The 90% car

The standard statement about a small electric city car has always been that it does 90% of what you need a car to do, or more precisely, more than 90% of all car trips, and surely you can make do with that. And I think that's true, to an extent: Many people could make do. They just don't want to.

The folks who still believe in the idea that a car is freedom are not interested in a 90% car, because the extra 10% are arguably when a car is at its most useful. Being able to drive to my parents 500 kilometres away right now with no planning, no seat reservation, only stopping for fuel, is useful. For me personally, that's way more useful than using it to go shopping or to work, both things where I can do very well without it.

The folks who don't buy into car ideology and are open to more efficient and ecological options for local travel, well, they already have these options in the form of public transit, e-Bikes and so on.

The "city car" is really only an option for people who depend on a car for every-day travel because there are no good public transit options, but who have other options for the few cases where they need to do something interesting. The ideal place for such a car is as a third or fourth car for a family living in suburbia. As every fellow train and urbanism enthusiast knows, that's not actually something we should encourage, as a society, even though we keep doing it. That aside, perhaps a suburban car for that market could make money, if it was sold at a low price, but nobody's managing that. A normal-sized car that gives you the option of long-distance travel if you need it just seems more appealing if both cost the same.

And of course nowadays we have electric cars that have reasonable long-distance ranges. The era of the small electric city car was over before it even started. e.Go never had a chance and on the whole, it won't be missed. The solution to our problem isn't more cars, not even relatively small ones.

(All pictures © me, you can use them under CC-BY-SA)

#cars #aachen #e.go #e.go life #streetscooter #aging wheels #i have a cold right now and feel miserable so I will not proofread this one before posting #Youtube

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How to Plant Snapdragons

Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Keegan & König X Female Criminal!Reader (Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story) SYNOPSIS: You are a criminal who is forced to join and help Task Force 141 with their mission under the order of General Shepherd.

PREFACE

Maybe being in prison wasn’t so bad. At least, some inmates there were actually kind of friendly and wouldn’t be able to kill you in an instant. Maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself get caught and thrown behind bars in the first place. Maybe you should have run away instead.

At least there wouldn’t be big men who were trained to snap bones, shoot a bullet through your head, and gut you if had stayed quiet. At least there wouldn’t be big men chasing after your head if you had been obedient.

Except, obedience wasn’t in your vocabulary.

Most of the time.

Well, having men with big biceps, thick thighs, and broad chests ordering you around wasn’t so bad in a while, yeah?

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language WORD COUNT: 2.5k

"Have you ever heard of a mountain chicken?"

For the fourth time, since you had gotten on the road or rather, the sky since you were on a noisy as hell helicopter or chopper (whatever it was called), Laswell sighed. This was the first time someone had annoyed her this much to the point she had considered snapping your neck.

You had already told her a bunch of terrible dad jokes, dark jokes that even Satan would be proud of you, and puns you could think of, and only once did the woman laugh, and it was the most monotonous and insincere laugh you had heard in a while.

You were going insane. Laswell thought of that too.

No phone during the ride—not even a fucking radio to listen to old songs or news! You were used to listening to music while looking out of any vehicle you were on.

Like bruh, what could be more boring than having nothing to fiddle on during long-ass rides that you wouldn't know when to finally end? Especially when you could see nothing but the gray sky, snow-covered mountains, white forests, trees, and even more trees. There were some occasional odd-shaped clouds, bringing floating whites around.

You turned your face at her again, leaning a bit close to her, and whispered, "So, have you ever heard of a—shit!”

The helicopter shook a bit, making you again hold onto your chair for dear life. It wasn’t that you were afraid of heights. You’ve had your fair share of sky diving, bungee jumping, roller coasters, and stuff, but falling off in the middle of nowhere? Who would like that? You ain’t Tarzan to survive living in a fucking jungle. And the jungle Tarzan grew up in wasn’t covered in ice.

You ain’t dying until you see the ending of your favorite animes, manhwa, mangas, books, and dramas.

"Good Lord, what the fu—" You pursed your lips into a thin line the moment you saw Laswell's burning glare, ready to throw you off the flying transport and watch you break your bones when you slam on the surface of the earth, then rejoice when a pack of wolves makes you their dinner.

You simply look out to the forest and rest your head on the chair. “Maybe if you had let me at least have some papers and pen to draw or a book, I would have stayed quiet,” you mumbled and waited for a reply that never came.

Guess you’d just spend the rest of the flight, making scenarios in your head with your fictional husbands.

“Inbound in one minute,” said the guy in front of the helicopter, steering the wheel and making the vehicle tilt to the left.

You peered through the window by your side, almost planting your face against the glass to see where you guys were supposed to land. And there it was, a massive military base. Even from afar, you could see the buildings where soldiers probably lived and wide spaces where they trained or parked the vehicles they used for transport and battles.

You squinted your eyes as the helicopter flew closer and closer to the base. You passed through the gate and watchtowers, spotting some soldiers walking and some jeeps (if they do call those jeeps) driven around the land. It did not take long for the helicopter to touch down on the landing pad, and through the window, you noticed some people coming close.

Kate opened the door and both of you were greeted by the harsh, freezing wind caused by the chopper’s blades. The older women easily jumped down, but you remained inside, turning to the pilot and holding onto the headrest of his seat.

“Hey, Mister,” you said as the heavy noises around you started to die down and smiled at him when he faced you with a frown, wrinkles on his forehead and eyes becoming evident. “What’s your name?”

“. . . Nikolai,” he answered after a good couple of seconds and quickly turned his attention forward.

“Say, Nikolai, can you teach me how to drive this—hey!” An arm grabbed the back of your collar, forcefully dragging you out. You stumbled on your feet as you landed on the concrete, the snow created a crisp crunch beneath your boots and you grimaced as your hair stuck to your mouth. “Goddamnit, Laswell, I was just trying to make a conversation!” you shouted as she let you go.

“You can have those conversations later,” she claimed.

You followed her, swiping the strands of hair from your mouth. “Ah, shit, fuck.” You groaned in frustration as you felt a sting in both your eyes, making you unable to open them.

“Is this her?” asked Price, scanning you from head to toe, before eyeing Laswell.

“Yeah, she’s a real pain in the ass, I’m telling you,” the older woman answered with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what had gotten into the General’s head to have a criminal in the 141.”

You made no comment about her words, knowing it was true. Rubbing your painful eyes, you turned to the right, assuming Kate was there. “Hey, Laswell, you got some water? I got something in my eyes.” You let out a squeak when you slammed against a post, but certainly, this post didn’t feel like a post, and men in the military were trained to become brick walls.

“Who the heck would just stand in the way . . .” You tried to open an eye, which made it water, but you held it in to look up at the guy. He wore a vest over a tight-fitting shirt (who the fuck would wear a shirt in winter) and denim pants to pair it. But what got your attention was his dumb haircut that ruined his cute face and you couldn’t help but ask, “Did a rooster do your hair?”

A snort came from the other side followed by a cough.

“Really, Gaz?” Soap grumbled, motioning a hand. Though, he wasn’t really offended. He had heard people comment on his hair, but did that stop him from rocking the damn haircut? No shit.

“Sorry,” Gaz replied, amusement still evident in his voice.

At the same time, you stepped away and continued rubbing your eyes, which had gone a bit better. “Forget the water, I’m good now.”

“Told you, she’s a pain in the ass,” Laswell once again claimed, making you roll your eyes, and finally look around you. “Well, these are the men you will be working with from now on.” She nodded at the four guys standing with you two and gave your shoulder a couple of heavy pats. “Listen to them well. Otherwise, you know what Shepherd and I will do to you.”

Listen to them well, like the good dog you were trained to be. Otherwise, they would just throw you away like a useless tool you were.

Or worse, they would keep you as their trophy, to be paraded around.

Well, you could live with that as long as they give you lots of food and money. At least, you would be able to smell the shits your prisonmates took every single fucking day, get slapped every time you woke up, or get picked on every time you were out of the wards’ sight.

Some inmates were kind enough to help you, but they were in a different cell. Oh, how you wish you could say goodbye to those women.

You pursed your lips and sighed, nodding. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll leave her in your care, boys.” Kate waved them goodbye, before climbing back into the chopper.

“What, wait!” You yelled at her, which made her raise a brow. “Can I have a phone?” You flashed a big smile.

Laswell smiled back, but in the way, she looked ready to prostate you to the floor and command the 141 to shoot you until their bullets ran out. “For the last time, no.”

“Come on!” You whined, throwing your hands in the air. “You won’t let me use my phone, you won’t even let me bring books or anything to entertain myself with. This isn’t any better than being in jail where people make you eat the shit they pulled out of their assholes after dinner and make a makeshift knife with a fucking toothbrush they used to clean the toilet they sleep next to.”

You talked fast enough to make you sound like an annoying mosquito that couldn’t be killed in the middle of the night while people were sleeping. You phased back and forth as you rambled, exaggeratedly waving your hands as if that would make your points clearer.

It didn’t.

It only made some soldiers who were passing by believe that you were a mentally ill hostage the Task Force 141 recently caught.

But what would they get out of a woman with screws loose?

“She’s got no filter on,” Soap mumbled in bewilderment, leaning a bit to Ghost, who remained still. “I've had my fair share of hearing curses in different languages but a bloody detailed story of how people eat shit? Goddamn.”

“You should be more concerned about what kind of prison she came from,” Gaz responded in a low voice, shaking his head in disgust as they listened to you tell the agent about an inmate accidentally swallowing a roach.

“You two should be thinking about how to make that damn mouth shut up,” Ghost declared, shooting a glance to the side and wanting to get away as soon as he could. Had Shepherd gone mad to let this clucking woman out? Did you perhaps swallow a cricket in jail and that was why you wouldn’t stop being noisy?

Captain Price sighed and shook his head.

Laswell looked away from you as if that would make you shut up, but then she remembered the helicopter had doors. She slammed it close and breathed in relief as your voice got blocked.

What on Earth did she do to the General to make her deal with you?

She motioned a hand. “Get going, Nikolai, before she gets even more crazy than she already is.”

“Solid copy,” Nikolai replied, joy clear in his tone. He prayed to never hear a damn word from you again.

“At least let me have access to Archive of Our Own!”

The helicopter started, and the blades created an awful whirring sound as it slowly raise, bringing harsh wind to slap you in the face, to tell you Laswell wasn’t going to give you enough shit anymore.

You once threw again your hands up in the air in defeat. “Fucking hell.” Then, you turned around, remembering you had some new company with you.

“Welcome to Task Force 141,” Price said and extended a gloved hand to you, which you quickly received.

You shook it and flashed a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Captain. I hope to be . . . in use of you and the group.” You wished you could cut off your tongue as soon as those words rolled out.

You did not like being dragged out of the prison, so you could help some supposedly good guys under the command of a bald general, who fucking guilt trip you about saving you from behind bars like some kind of Asian parent. The old man even praised himself that he was your savior like a goddamn stuck-up saint with a god complex.

Oh, how you wish you could file his bald head with a cheese grater.

“I hope so, too.” Price turned and walked away, which was the cue for you to follow him.

You padded behind him like a puppy that found its new owner. Your eyes darted around in curiosity and greedily taking in the details in everything you could see at the moment, until your gaze shifted to Kyle, who walked beside you. You stared at him just as he stared down at you, and as he was about to smile, you turned away.

Cute guy, you thought, but you liked fictional men better. You gazed from left to right as you entered a building. There was nothing much to see but hallways.

Gaz’s eyebrow twitch. Did he just get ignored? Alright, he would let you get away from it for now. Got to be nice and show some hospitality towards the newcomer, even if you shouldn’t be here in the first place. But seriously, you looked like you had a jar of crack and a few gallons of Monster mixed with coffee up your ass to even walk.

Then, he pulled a face when he saw Soap’s smug look. This fucking rooster.

“Ah, right, Captain,” you began once again, after a short while of silence, “Laswell mentioned about you having something to discuss with me?”

“Yes, but I prefer to talk about it in my office.” Price turned to a corner.

“Oh, okay—I mean, copy that, sir.” You glanced over your shoulder, eyeing the opposite hallway from where the Captain was leading you four.

It didn’t take long until Price halted before a door, prompting the rest of you to stop. He pushed it open and nodded at you. “Ladies first.”

You tilted your head. “Sir? But you’re my superior and I’m sure gender doesn’t matter in this—”

“Oh, just enter.” Soap draped his arm around your shoulder and dragged you inside the room. “He’s the Captain and that’s why you follow his orders.” He motioned his finger in front of you.

“Ah, yes . . . sir.” You shot a glance at his arm that pulled you close to him, the muscles used to do heavy work, the hand that could easily grab your neck or face to make you shut the hell up or manhandle you. Then, you look to your other side, welcomed by his—sweet Jesus, how big were those boobs? You tapped your fingers on your thigh, fighting the urge not to put your hand on them and bury your face between them.

Ah, maybe being in the military wasn’t so bad.

Would you be able to experience this more if you disobey?

“I’ll keep it simple,” Price said and leaned on the desk behind him, crossing his arms. “You are to follow our orders. You are forbidden to be out of sight of the team for more than 20 minutes, and to monitor your movements, Laswell left me something.” Price extended an object to Gaz, which the younger man whistled upon sight.

You grimaced at the ankle monitor on his hand. “Can’t I just be as obedient as you want me to be?”

Price shook his head with a soft smile. “Sorry, young lady, that won’t do.”

Gaz dropped on one knee before you. It would have been nice, had not it to put the goddamn monitor on you, and if not Soap tightened his grip as if you’d run away. As if they couldn’t disable you in a blink.

For a moment, the thought of cutting off your foot crossed your mind, but they would only put the monitor in your other leg, and you weren’t fucking Wolverine or Deadpool.

You wiggled your left leg after Kyle was done, feeling heavier than ever before.

You were taking back what you said. This shit sucked.

And it didn’t stop you from running away the next few days.

Chapter 2 is here and the Masterlist!

You can also read the series on AO3 here.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #task force 141 #cod 141 #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #kate laswell #cod nikolai #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #soap x you #gaz x you #konig x reader #konig x you #criminal!reader #captain john price #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan russ x reader #cod smut #ghost smut #soap smut #gaz smut

[sarahpen]

The Untold Story Of Your - Character Sketch by Sarah Joy Glorioso

She was like a shot of espresso, she’s incredibly energetic and enthusiastic and she had this sense of play and fun which was incredibly exciting.  She always sat outside our house early each morning and afternoon and carried that wooden chair herself. She would take out her favorite chair and sit in the sun, talking to people who passed by. She would sometimes sit outside all day, with that tired smile on her wrinkled old face and she was 70 years old . I enjoy spending my afternoons with her, sitting by the window and resting and playing with her white hair, significant of being older. Sips on tea slowly while I listen to the stories she tells me. All the fascinating stories about her childhood and her siblings.  My eighteen years of my life I have met many wonderful people. There has been this one person who had the ability to make a special impact on my life that will last a lifetime. She has played the role of my mother throughout my life. She has had a profound influence in my life and made me a stronger person. She encouraged me to be the woman I want to be. This lady is known as my grandmother.

        She is perfect in every way; the way she styles her elegant bestida dresses and with her abaniko, the way she moves, the way she behaves, the way she speaks, etcetera. Sometimes, I just think that it could be great, if I could be a little bit of what she is. Her great personality is full of other amazing qualities. A shining example of the person I want to be. She is over four feet tall, 65 kilos and very kind. Her sweet demeanor helps us win over anyone’s heart she comes across. As a child, I always used to hold her delicate and soft hands with perfectly brown skin. My grandma had always had a sense of fun. She had smiling eyes and a sincere heart. She was tiny but still had a great sense of humor with her exuberant character. She was very extroverted, and I could always rely on her intelligence when I needed advice. She had deep brown eyes which looked like melted brown chocolate and full of unspoken stories. An extraordinary individual who knows me inside out, using her pearls of wisdom to guide me to success. It was such a different house without my grandma, and I realized how special she was to me. Her bright smile, her tinkling laugh and her warm welcome felt very absent. There was no emotion in the house. It felt like it had been sucked out.

      The patient lady that my grandmother is, and proud to say Reynalda Salvadora her name. She has been through different times, worlds and hardships, but remains strong as ever. Even though she has grown up time apart from me, she always makes sure to keep up with me to not miss out on anything. Her birthday is so important to us, she was born in Camarines Sur in 1970 March 25 in a small town of Buhi the day which my guardian angel was born. I can recall listening to my grandmothers’ tones of voice and their laughter. I mimicked their mannerisms, style of dress, and even the way they decorated the table for Christmas. I describe her as a goodfriend. She would wake me up on school days and prepare a simple breakfast. It was also a lot of work sometimes, bringing in the straw, planting potatoes or other work in the fields , hot, dusty and exhausting days farming was our occupation back then. Because of financial stability, both of my grandparents' just earned high school graduates education degrees. I still sometimes feel a bit like a farmer’s kid though my parents did not work there

        She recites in a very sing-song manner and reads sacred literature while seated in front of the temple she has discovered inside the home. She was a religious woman , as she spent her time in the temple reading the scriptures. Woman who loved her traditions and culture. With her one hand, her habit was always telling the beads of her rosary. Spent most of her time reading the holy books whether at home or in the temple. She spent her time spinning wheels and reciting her prayers also. My favorite talent of hers is when I think of my grandma, I think of creativity. I think of working on sewing, and cooking in the kitchen.  I simply love watching her savor her food and cherish it. She is often the first one to the dinner table but always the last one to leave. She makes sure no one eats alone so she sits till the very end. One thing I will show is the relationship between my grandmother’s diabetes and her mental health. I feel that my grandmother is suffering from depression due to a variety of reasons but primarily because of her health issues. My grandmother stated that she feels hopeless because of her health issues. She does not have insurance and is unable to get the proper medical treatment because she does not have the money. I just hope that her condition does not worsen before I’m able to assist her financially.

          As I missed my grandmother, I began to think of all the wisdom and examples she set for me. Today, I’m sharing with you how my grandmother was clean. Actually, I don’t think there is a word clean enough to describe her. I’d trust eating from her floor before eating off my counters. I mean, who washes their windows every week and scrubs the driveway and patio with Tide? My grandmother, that’s who! One thing I will always remember about her house: it was immaculate. There was order and a place for everything.