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queenshelby · 3 years

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A NEW WORLD – PART NINE

A QUIET PLACE 2 FANFIC

Pairing: Emmett x Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst, Gore, Death, Murder, Attempted Rape, Aliens, Violence, Movie Spoilers, SMUT, etc…

DAY 764

‘Say Good Morning Mumma’ Emmett said holding up Charlotte as you came walking out of the bedroom.

‘I didn’t hear your get up. Why didn’t you wake me?’ you asked as you were still not used to Charlotte sleeping in a different room to you ever since Emmett cleared out the study room and put up a toddler bed for Charlotte.

‘I thought that you could use some extra sleep’ Emmett said as he took one of the wooden blocks away from Charlotte. You were up with Charlotte for two nights as she was teething and last night you finally managed to sleep five hours straight.

‘Not in your mouth, remember?’ Emmett said and Charlotte pouted at him, trying to get the wooden block back with her tiny little hand.

‘I asked Jeremy to pick up some children’s paracetamol and a teething toy on his run to the mainland today. Also, one of the women on the island found a baby monitor packed away in her garage. I will try and get it to work today. You might feel a bit less anxious about Charlotte being in another room if you can hear her through the monitor’ Emmett suggested as he handed you a cup of instant coffee.

‘Thank you’ you said with a warm smile and some guilt. You still haven’t told Emmett that he is Charlotte’s father. Yet, you could see an instant connection between them.

Emmett has never asked about Charlotte’s father and you never told him much about her and her birth. It was more that you could handle at the time especially since you thought that he was in a relationship with Nancy.

‘How come you and Nancy don’t share house?’ you eventually asked as you were making breakfast.

‘It’s complicated Y/N’ Emmett said, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him.

‘So, you aren’t in love with each other? Is that it?’ you asked curiously.

‘I don’t have feelings for her if this is what you mean. In fact, I believe that love in a world like this is a dangerous thing. It’s not worth it’ he said before putting his empty bowl into the sink and excusing himself.

It was obvious to you that he didn’t really want to discuss his relationship with Nancy.

***

Later that day you were invited to Nancy’s house to play cards and have some wine.

Reagan had kindly offered to babysit Charlotte that evening as Lucas and Marcus were out in the woods for the night, hunting animals for the community to eat alongside Emmett’s friend Morgan.

You had the feeling that there was something between Morgan and Evelyn, but didn’t dare to question it.

***

‘This is so strange’ you said as you took five cards from the deck and a glass of wine from the ones Nancy had poured and placed in the middle of the table.

‘Being here, on the island, you mean?’ Nancy asked and you nodded. You still struggled with the idea of being safe, of not being hungry and of having access to clean water simply to have a shower. The strangest of it all was that Charlotte’s father was with you now after you had expected to never see him again.

‘I think you just need to accept the fact that God chose you to be here. To keep you safe. It’s that simple’ Nancy said and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘I am sorry Nancy but I find it hard to believe after all the shit that has happened to me and my family and friends. I had to kill people to get here. I put a knife in the head of a close friend so that she would no longer suffer when she fell ill while we were at the bunker. I was almost raped by two men when Emmett saved me. Was all of this God’s plan for me?’ you sighed as you had lost faith many years ago.

‘Let’s not talk about faith, shall we’ Evelyn said and you all nodded in agreement quite quickly. After all, faith and believe had become a difficult topic and some people struggled more with it than others since the invasion.

‘Where is Emmett tonight?’ Adrian, one of the others, asked and Nancy rolled her eyes in response.

‘Who knows. He said that he needed space. He’s been acting strange ever since he got back from the mainland and my best guess is that he’s down by the old beach shag. That’s where he usually goes when he wants to be alone’ Nancy sighed somewhat disappointed. Clearly, Emmett has not let her into who he was and to who had become.

‘Hmm I wonder why that is?’ Evelyn said as she sipped on her glass of white wine while looking over at you with a smile.

You were surprised by the look Evelyn gave you. Did she know about you and Emmett you wondered?

***

After two games of cards, you helped Evelyn to take the empty wine bottles back to the kitchen in order to get some refills for everyone.

‘You need to tell him Y/N’ Evelyn said calmly as she started opening two more bottles of wine.

‘What do you mean?’ you whispered, looking at Evelyn with wide open eyes.

‘That Charlotte is his daughter’ she then went on to say.

‘How do you know?’ you whispered in a panic. You never had this conversation with her.

‘Lucas told me Charlotte’s birthday and he also told me that she came four weeks early and he had to help deliver her. Apparently, he is still a little freaked out about seeing his sister’s vagina’ she laughed before continuing on. ‘Emmett told me about you six months ago, about the night you spent together and how he could never tell Nora who the woman was he had been with that night. He still feels guilty about it all’ Evelyn whispered.

‘I remember when he called me the day after, telling me that what happened between us was nothing more than a mistake. But of course, he feels guilty towards Nora after all the crap she put him through that year’ you sighed, remembering how bad their relationship had become before the night in question.

‘No Y/N’ Evelyn said as she put one of her hands onto your shoulder. ‘The guilt he feels is towards you, for pushing you away the way he did after the night he had spent with you. He loved you. He probably still does’ Evelyn whispered with a smile.

‘He’s got a funny way of showing it. He had more than a month to say something to me before these things invaded our planet’ you huffed.

‘The morning after you had spent the night with Emmett, Nora called him from the hospital near her sister’s house. She was diagnosed with cancer that day. Her prognosis was good at the time but she never got the treatment she needed following the invasion. He chose his family Y/N. He had to’ Evelyn said with both of her hands on your shoulders.

‘I had no idea’ you said as your chin dropped and small tears began to form in the inside of your eyes. Emmett had never given an explanation to you as to why he acted the way he did and you immediately felt awful about what him and Nora must have been through.

‘I know. That’s why I am telling you now. You need to forgive him for what happened between you and let him be a father to Charlotte’ Evelyn said and you nodded in agreement.

There was nothing to say and, as soon as you returned to Nancy’s living room, you excused yourself.

You explained to the group that Charlotte was teething and that you were tired and wanted to get some rest. But the truth was that you had to see Emmett and clear things up once and for all.

***

As you arrived at the top of the hill which led down to the beach and the old beach shag, you could see Emmett sit on a large towel in front of a small fire place, starring at the sea.

Quietly and slowly, you made your way down the hill in between the bushes and approached Emmett from behind.

‘You scared the shit out of me Y/N’ Emmett said just after he startled as you tapped him on the shoulder.

‘I am sorry’ you smiled before kneeling down next to him.

‘What are you doing here?’ Emmett asked and, without words, you caressed his face with one of your hands and drew his lips closer towards yours.

‘This’ you whispered before your lips met in a passionate kiss.

‘Y/N, I am so sorry for…’ Emmett tried to say as your lips finally drifted apart.

‘Sshh. I know’ you said before pressing your lips back onto his one more time, even more desperate and passionate than before.

‘I love you’ you whispered after you had silenced him with your lips and, just as they parted again, he told you that he loves you too.

‘Didn’t you say that love in a world like this is a dangerous thing?’ you asked in between kisses and while your hands began to roam over each other’s bodies.

‘It is and I am afraid of it, but sometimes you can’t help it. I have loved you for years Y/N’ Emmett said, his deep blue eyes gazing into yours.

‘Oh Emmett’ you sighed, before you climbed onto his lap and pressed your lips against his again.

Your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and start dancing with yours all while he began to unbutton your blouse.

‘We are on a public beach Emmett’ you giggled as his eyes wandered over your breasts which clearly had gotten larger.

‘No one ever comes down here’ Emmett assured you before guiding you off him and pushing you onto the towel beneath him, covering the sand.

After taking off his own t-shirt, Emmett rubbed both his hands along your thighs up towards the hem of your skirt. Then he moved his hands underneath your skirt and then back down towards your knees. As his hands made another pass over your legs and under your skirt, he reached all the way to the top of your thighs and his fingers felt around for your panties. Not finding any, he looked up at you and raised his eyebrows in a playful manner.

‘Shortage of underwear on the island’ you answered his unasked question with a little smirk and a flirtatious look in your eyes.

Emmett then started exploring you with his fingers. Finding you wet and aroused, he pressed one of his fingers easily into your opening and then slid it back out and rubbed it along your pussy lips and towards your clit. He repeated this process over and over again and you let out a soft moan every time his fingers made this journey along your body. Your eyes met and you bit your lip as he continued fingering you.

‘Oh my god, that feels so good’ you whispered to him and he smiled back at you.

You certainly didn't want him to stop, but you also wanted more.

After a few more minutes of this pleasure, you pulled him on top of you and your bodies were pressed up together. You could feel Emmett's hardness straining through his jeans against your thighs and you could help but moan at the sensation.

He then pulled your mouth to his in a passionate embrace. Your breaths were shallow as your kiss deepened, his mouth practically enveloping yours.

It wasn’t long until Emmett reached between you and unzipped his jeans before pulling them down along with his briefs.

‘Fuck I want you so badly’ you whispered as you pushed up your skirt and spread your legs widely, allowing Emmett to line himself up with your soaking entrance.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Emmett moaned as he thrusted his rock-hard cock into your very wet, swollen, and ready, opening.

You let out a long, low moan as he entered you. His cock felt so good inside you; like two puzzle pieces fitting together. You squeezed your muscles on him in response, sending a shiver of intensity through your body. With your left legs wrapped around him, he was pushing deep into you. With every hard and fast thrust, you would yell out, not afraid of making your noises heard on this darkened and empty beach. As he pounded into you, your hands slid, scratched and grabbed all over his body, along his back, onto his shoulders, and then down to his ass. You gripped his tight ass cheeks and pushed him in tighter on each thrust.

‘Don’t come inside me’ you barely managed to say and Emmett simply nodded as he kept thrusting into you deeply.

With all the thrusting, you eventually arched your back, changing the angle of his entry, and now his cock was hitting your very sensitive g-spot.

Your moans now turned to loud "fucks" and "oh gods" and you were soon pretty close to an explosive orgasm. Knowing that you were close to climax, Emmett sped up his thrusts which sent your over the edge.

‘Oh god, oh god, oh god...Emmett…fuck’ you moaned as a powerful orgasm rippled through your body and Emmett’s palm quickly came down on your mouth.

‘Shh’ he smirked as your pelvic muscles contracted and pulsed, tightening around his cock and then released. Spasm like shivers moved up to your shoulders and through your body and you let out a very long, satisfied exhalation.

‘Holy Fuck’ you said to Emmett, with an exasperated laugh in your voice once he finally removed his hand from your mouth.

He smiled back at you, then scooped his arms up under your back and lifted you to sit facing him. Still catching your breath, your mouths came together for a kiss, but you simply exchanged warm breaths into each other's mouths before your lips met.

As your body calmed from the orgasm, you brought your hand down to his cock. He was wet and sticky from your fluids, so you leaned down, bringing your lips to his cock, tasting yourself on him and began sliding your tongue all along his shaft, adding the lubrication of your saliva to him.

Your tongue made broad strokes along the underside of his cock and then tickled the tip and then back down again, adding more and more moisture to his cock with every lick. Now slippery with your moisture, you brought your hand to his cock and began moving it up and down, giving your mouth a break. As you squeezed your fingers and twisted your wrist on his cock, he brought his fingers back to play with your pussy. Still highly sensitive from the orgasm you had just experienced, you gasped at his initial touch and your muscles involuntarily squeezed and clenched.

He inserted his pointer and middle fingers into your wet opening, then dragged them out and up along your lips to your sensitive clit. You let out a loud groan as he did this, while your hand continued its work on his cock. Slowly, he continued moving his fingers along your wetness, along your lips and then he started finger fucking you, slowly at first and then faster and with more intensity. You matched his intensity with your hand on his cock. Faster and deeper he plunged into your warm tunnel, and faster and tighter you moved on his manhood. He took in a deep inhalation and let out a gasp and you knew he was close to release. His fingers were now rapidly pounding into you and you were moving your hand faster than ever on his cock.

‘I am close’ Emmett moaned, barely managing to speak and you quickly dropped your head down onto his swollen cock and he let out a loud, guttural exhalation as his warm and sweet cum released into your mouth.

‘Hmm’ you moaned out, squeezing his cock with your lips and sliding them up and down as he pulsed out more semen into your mouth. Once he was complete, she licked your tongue on his cock, before removing your mouth and swallowing.

You had never really enjoyed sucking off a cock and swallowing cum before, but with Emmett it was different and you were somewhat truly delighted in satisfying Emmett this way.

You sat up and looked at Emmett. His head was leaned back, his eyes closed, and a look of complete pleasure on his face.

‘Fuck…this was something else’ he whispered to you, followed by a deep sigh and a little contented laugh.

You smiled in return as he fluttered his eyes open.

It wasn’t long until your lips met again and, just as you heard some noises in the bushes besides you, Emmett quickly pulled up his pants while you buttoned up the blouse which never left your body.

Then, Emmett quickly put his t-shirt back on and, to your relief, two rabbits jumped out of the bushes making you both laugh and fall back against the towel which was barely covering the sand from the beach.

‘Emmett?’ you said as you rested your head on his chest while your eyes were gazing into the fire.

‘Hmm’ he said as he was holding you tight.

‘There is something I need to tell you’ you murmured.

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

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Misery

Sadistic!Yandere!Diluc x Fatui Harbinger!GN!reader

Wordcount: 6748

CW: torture, sex, foul language, isolation, sensory deprivation, extremely unhealthy relationships, dubcon, mindbreak, violence

Diluc isn’t a cruel person. Not necessarily. He punishes you only when you are difficult and for the last few weeks you tried to stay on your best behavior. Ragnvindr is nice to you, benevolent even, willing to look past your former affiliations and shower you with love. At times his affections seem suffocating and irking, blood red eyes following your every movement and him absorbing your every word as if it is a holy scripture, but you remind yourself that his love is the best thing that happened to you in your whole life.

Truly, Diluc is so kind to take you in and help you fix the errors of your old ways, even when you were snarling and spitting insults in his face, too stubborn to see how wrong your old life was. You were ignorant and ungrateful back then, seeing nothing but a Harbinger title and service to Tsaritsa. You forced Diluc to lock you up to make you realize that you didn't need your title or your vision or your archon. He is there for you and it's all that matters, you can rely on him for everything and he is happy to provide, persistent in his care for you and even now he is patient with your… deficiencies, waiting when you stop staring into the distance with vacant eyes.

You stand in front of an open but barred window, a typically Mondstadtian landscape revealed to you - bright green grass and patches of dandelions and windwheel asters growing in small groups with tall trees of the same shade finishing the picture. A gentle breeze flows through the opening, playing with your hair and caressing your skin, yet you imagine another type of wind - stronger and colder, relentless and carrying small snowflakes on the way. You close the eyes and see another image - tall, leafless trees covered by multiple layers of snow and the white ground between them. Snow shines and glitters under the pale winter sun, and you feel alive and bitter at the same time.

You know the place, having been there once, but your memory now is too blurry and fuzzy. All of the events prior to Diluc fixing you up are too foggy to make out the finer details and it somehow makes you feel sad, when you should be grateful instead. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t make them stop, rapidly going from silent crying to full on hysterics.

You hear Diluc asking what’s wrong with a concern in his voice, his hands slightly shaking your crying form. You can’t answer him, wailing even louder and stronger, hiding your face in both hands, ashamed from the sudden outburst and overwhelmed from unreasoned sorrow and heartache. Only when Ragnvindr painfully squeezes both of your shoulders and demands to know what is wrong with you in that tone that makes you shiver and gasp, do you stop, looking at him with wide scared eyes, hands that were used to cover your face, are now up in the air in a semi defensive stance.

He seems uncomfortable by your reaction, a slight frown appearing on his face, scarlet brows knit together and corners of mouth turned downward. “I am sorry”, you say, voice small and pleading, eyes casted aside not meeting his out of embarrassment. Why did you start to act so childish out of the blue?

“There’s nothing to apologize”, Diluc takes off the glove, using an uncovered hand to wipe away the tear tracks from your cheeks. There’s no irritation in his voice, just concern, so you risk a glance at him, as he continues: “You are just making me worry”

“I am sorry” you repeat, feeling a prick to your heart, as you process his words - Ragnvindr is so good to you, providing with everything you could ever ask of, and here you are, making him concerned and anxious over some silly daydreams. “It’s really nothing, I just need to be more attentive, that’s it”

You noticed that it’s harder for you to stay in the moment as you start to frequently space out, mind too occupied by the memories of days long past - playing with peers, entering Fatui, receiving a delusion. It’s a futile thing, but images still consume all of your attention and focus, keeping you from sleeping and eating.

“[First], I...” he starts, but then trails off, huffing to mask his hesitancy. Instead of talking he takes your face in one hand and leans in, his lips meeting yours. It's a slow and gentle kiss at first, but just like all other things with Diluc it quickly escalates into something more: his hands now take you by your waist and tug you closer to him, making you press with your entire chest against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue freely exploring the confines of your mouth as you moan into his from pleasure and such close proximity.

When you two part, Diluc leaves you flushed and dizzy, with heart quickly pounding against the ribcage. You feel a fire of arousal igniting inside of you, it travels from your chest to belly and soon spreads to the rest of the body. Your cheeks heat up as you stand up on tiptoes to whisper “Can we do it right now?” in Diluc’s ear, voice full of both shame and anticipation.

“Of course, my dear”, there are hints of a smile in his tone and he effortlessly lifts you up and heads for the bedroom and as he carries you you can’t help but zone out again, the memories of past days flashing in your mind.

***

Your first meeting happens during one winter night, as you receive the order to deal with him day prior, at a Harbinger meeting in the Zapolyarny palace. Eleven of you stay kneeling in the main hall, awaiting for Her Majesty to come in as Scaramouche and Tartaglia start to bicker as usual.

“I bet it’s about that mysterious person who’s destroying one stronghold after the other” Childe starts, voice full of bravado and smugness, fake smile blooming on his face: “Fortunately, Tsaritsa has me to take on whatever this stranger is”.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Tartaglia”, Scaramouche remarks, almost spitting out the last word.

“Why shouldn’t I? I am the youngest here, yet I am also the strongest. Why are you so upset? Feeling envious of my power?” Childe retorts, voice still sounding too cheery to be natural.

“If there was anything to envy. You may be the best at fighting among us, but it’s the only thing you are good at”.

“Huh, it seems I was wrong. Maybe little Scaramouche wants to be as tall as me and that’s why he spits out his funny silly slander”.

It must have struck the nerve, as Scaramouche snaps back with an angry tirade, from which their exchange escalates into a heated battle of barely hidden insults. You, just as the rest of other Harbingers listen to their conversation, half amused and half irritated, lifting the brows at the creative mockings.

“Silence”, domineering and overpowering voice says and you still yourself, eyes casted downwards, as Childe and Scaramouche stop their exchange at the same moment. Footsteps echo throughout the hall, as a feminine figure takes its place on a high throne in the middle of the hall. Tsaritsa has arrived.

“As I can see my children already know about the perpetrator attacking my servants” archon starts, divine power and absolute authority evident in each syllable. You feel how the deity’s eyes look at all of you, despite still keeping head bowed and stance obedient.

“Innamorati”, you hear your title and lift up your gaze, ready to take whatever order the Goddess has for you.

“I entrust you with this task, don’t disappoint me”.

***

Diluc is not a coward and he never was one, but now he can’t help but feel a pang of fear, looking at your approaching form.

“Let’s test our delusions, shall we?”, you almost purr, voice soft, silken smooth and full of unspoken threat. It sends shivers down his spine, yet he still equips this cursed thing and braces himself for the upcoming battle.

There’s a stillness in your moves, a confidence that whatever Diluc has in his arsenal, you can endure and answer with something deadly in return. This dangerous calm both disturbs and excites young Ragnvindr.

He lashes out on you with a stream of accursed chains, filling the air with the sickly sweet scent of mist grass. You easily side step his attack, letting out a cheerless laugh and then come back with a cold gust, frost air currents easily cutting through his skin.

He barely dodges the attack, slowly registering the pain from injury. It’s a shallow cut and a testament to your strength, Diluc thinks, as he touches the scrape, marvelling at your speed. In the end, Diluc can’t stand against you - you’re stronger, have more experience and infinitely faster than him, bringing down one overwhelming attack after the other, a catalyst shining and glowing as you do so.

He jumps and ducks and runs, avoiding one hit after the other, yet there's only so much his body can do. Soon his limbs grow heavier and his breathing labored, Diluc slows down and that's when your attack finally strikes him. It pierces his body, pools of blood quickly forming under him.

Diluc falls down, his battered body no longer able to stand. Memories and regrets alike flood his mind, reminding him of deeds he wishes he did and deeds he wishes he didn’t. He remembers his childhood - all daydreams and high hopes, the world around him bright and friendly. He remembers his father's dying face and Kaeya’s guilt-ridden expression. He remembers overwhelming helplessness and grief transforming into righteous anger and hate.

It all seems so pointless now - leaving the Mondstadt, breaking all bonds with Kaeya or spending years in a mindless massacre, satiating his thirst for revenge by destroying one Fatui stronghold after the other, with no regard for his body or spirit. What was the point of it all, if he's still there, lying and bleeding to death, as you look down on him?

He throws, what he thinks, the last glance at the world, a strange thought appearing in his mind as he looks at you: I want them. As Diluc's consciousness fades he misses a sound of an observer's footsteps.

Later, as he gets saved by the said third party’s observer, who commented and praised Diluc’s methods, he replays the encounter in his mind, getting confused at this particular thought. Why would he want you? Maybe he wants you to die or maybe he wants to see you defeated, but in no way he sees you as desirable. In the end he blames everything on his oxygen deprived brain at the time, explaining the strange attraction he felt for you at that moment.

Having a near death experience and a taste of his own dying regrets, he decides to return to Mondstadt and as he does, thoughts about you continue to pester him. They fly around and buzz, reminding Diluc of your face, eyes and voice, of your body and skills and that terrifying speed you attacked him at. He swats them away like a noisy, annoying flies, suppressing and burying feelings deep, deep down, and naming his interest in you “a desire for revenge and retribution”.

***

Your second meeting happens once the news of a sudden Stormterror attack reaches Tsaritsa’s ears - a perfect opportunity for acquiring anemo archon’s gnosis and a new step in her rebellion against Celestia. She thinks about sending La Signora at first, as your fellow Harbinger is fast and ruthless, able to complete a job no matter the cost, but soon archon changes her mind and picks you instead. For secrecy and subterfuge, she adds, don’t disappoint me.

I won't, you promise more to yourself than her, as Tsaritsa never asks but orders. With your head bowed in deep respect and the heavy gaze of the goddess on your form, you decide that you will do your best to bring cryo archon's vision into reality. You are dispatched to Mondstadt the same week, first by ship, then by carriage. Pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya quickly morph into bright Mondstadtian green, and you finally arrive.

Despite or maybe because of Mondstadt having almost nothing similar with Snezhnaya, it steals a breath from you for a moment - city stands on a lone isle in the middle of deep blue lake, tall windmills and bright red roofs seen from a distance, along with a giant statue of Barbatos blessing the city.

Acting Grandmaster Jean greets you, her stern blue eyes intently observing you, as she says standard Favonius salute and you return your own cliche lines - about Tsaritsa’s concern and a peacekeeping mission, empty phrases that don’t elaborate on what actually Fatui will do. She fails to suppress a frown upon hearing it, sensing your real intentions, but you pay it no mind - Jean has no way or reason strong enough to ban you from Mondstadt without causing a diplomatic conflict.

You turn on the heels after brief negotiations, heading for the Goth Grand Hotel, mind already full of plans and schemes of obtaining the Gnosis. Before you departed, Tsaritsa shared a very interesting fact to you - throughout the centuries Barbatos used only one mortal form, disguising himself as a young cheerful bard named Venti. You dispatch a couple of agents and cicin mage to look for a person fitting the description, and then turn your attention to the rest of the fatuis.

You scold Anastasia for unprofessional rudeness towards Jean. “We need to maintain a benevolent image”, you say to her, right before demoting her and temporarily sending her off to Dragonspine as a punishment. Under your rule fatuis cease sneering and belittling Mondstadt in public, lessening no doubt growing ire of locals.

All goes well, until several events happen. Stormterror attacks the city and some blonde foreigner fights off the dragon, wielding mind blowingly strong anemo powers and riding the wind, like a flying bird. Then your agents finally find a bard, reporting that “Venti" prefers to spend a considerable amount of both time and mora in two local taverns - Angel’s Share and Cat’s tail.

You don civilian clothing, heading for the former tavern and send off a couple of other disguised agents to the latter one. Now, stripped of your mask and harbinger attire, citizens stop gawking and staring at you, their eyes passing your form, as you make your way as an ordinary passerby.

No one pays you attention, as you enter the tavern, save for the strange six fingered bard at the entrance. He tries to sell you his performance, but you wave him off, heading for the bar. And here you see him again - you recognize the unknown attacker, his bright red hair and eyes betraying him the same second. Your faces mirror in recognition as a tense silence settles between you.

“So what is Fatui doing in this tavern?”he asks loudly and half of the customers stop drinking and stare at you. You sigh “enjoying” the atmosphere he created, and utter a premade excuse: “Mondstadt is known for its wine industry and the best wines are sold by Dawn Winery. It would be a shame if I left the city without tasting its finest drinks first”.

You glance at the red gem on his collar, an obvious heirloom of a famous clan: “Didn’t know that Ragnvindr heir would spend his days working as a bartender. You must be Diluc, then. Am I right?". He doesn't dignify you with an answer, preferring to wipe the glasses and serve other customers, his eyes still observing you from time to time.

You quit the tavern early, as “Venti”, as it turns out, leaves the same second he hears about your presence. You order agents to spy on him, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, that you don't get a chance to act on.

You get attacked by Diluc on your way to the Windrise tree, where according to your intel, Barbatos decided to go. He slowly pulls out his claymore and you notice a difference between old and current him.

He is calm this time, his movements lacking fervent hatred and anger that was present during your first battle. He must have gotten stronger then, if he feels so confident, entering a battle with you. Or grown foolish, your mind supplies.

You start to fight, exchanging one blow for another, as he surprises you - there's no barbed chains rushing into your direction, only an orange light fire surrounding the claymore. A pyro vision dangles on his waist, glowing and shining as he activates it's powers. You masterfully dodge his hits, shooting combined anemo and cryo attacks from the catalyst.

Suddenly you step on a burning grass, and hiss and close your eyes from the sudden pain. Diluc uses this time to disarm you, his heavy claymore crushing a delicate catalyst into small pieces. It happens so fast, that you are left speechless at the sudden turn of the battle tides.

With no weapon left, all you can do is dodge and run - you almost reach the city again. it’s walls become visible as you do your best to push your body beyond limits, fatigue weighing down on every muscle. Diluc sends a phoenix - a damn phoenix! - on your way. Fire licks your skin and scorches ends of your hair, but you manage to dodge it too - if only by a small chance - and fall to the ground, mind drifting off to the unconscious world.

***

You come up to your senses slowly and gradually; first there are sensations - a rough rope around your wrists, wet, yet rugged stone walls, then the smells, tastes and sounds - stale, musty air, a coppery blood on your tongue and a shift of a fabric, and then the images at last - dark basement and a bright red blotch, that after a time becomes a head.

There’s a man sitting beside you, Diluc Ragnvindr, your memory supplies. You feel calm and confused for a moment until you remember the fight you both had. Seems, he finally overpowered you.

“You are awake” he says, voice grim and quiet.

“It seems I am. Let me guess, you dragged me here because you want to know what this big bad harbinger plans to do?”. Control your breathing, don’t let him hear the tremble of your voice, don’t let him see the fear in your eyes.

He looks at you with an unreadable gaze and you hold his stare, looking absolutely untroubled in return, a knowing and somewhat self-confident smirk playing in your lips. No matter his status in Mondstadt, Diluc kidnapped you, one of the fatui Harbingers and a close associate of Tsaritsa. His action, no doubt, will force Fatui to severe action, an action that neither his nation nor his people will be able to withstand.

“Think bigger”, he finally says: “I don’t care what you planned to do. I already have you here, weak and helpless. No, what I want is intel on what your goddess and organization are after”.

“Oh, mister Diluc, you want to play a big game? It’s dangerous in case you didn’t know. Maybe after I tell you all of our wicked plans, you will wish you had never asked” you purr, sensing how it grates his nerves, despite him keeping his face and stance impassive.

“How so?”

“Tsaritsa is the greatest of all seven, her vision is absolute. Even if you learn of her plans I doubt you will be able to stop any of them”.

“I asked what the plans were, not what you think of cryo archon”. Diluc’s voice becomes a tone louder, the already present frown on his face subtly deepening.

“Then I am afraid you won’t get any from me”.

He suddenly gets closer to you, his hand yanking you by your head. You hiss, trying to free the bound hands, as he drags you to a nearby barrel with water by hair and then he dips you in it. You instinctively jerk in his hold, a cold water seeping in your nose and mouth as he holds you underwater. Ten second passes, twenty, thirty, you jerk again, your head throbbing and aching from the lack of air, he pulls you upwards.

You nearly black out from the abrupt change, gulping down in the air and coughing out water. He repeats his question and you deny him again. He dips you more, each time becoming a bit longer than the last, only to repeat his query. You lose how many times he lowered you into liquid, absolutely wet and shivering now, when he finally stops and ties you up to the same place you woke up to.

“We will continue tomorrow, I have business to attend to. I suggest you use this time to rethink whether you want to tell me Tsaritsa’s plans or not, as I can get much worse” He heads for the exit from the basement, as you greedily inhale the air.

“Wait”, you say, still breathing heavily: “Aren’t you afraid of the punishment? You kidnapped me, a harbinger, and then proceeded to torture me. Tsaritsa will have your head for this slight against her.”

“Tsaritsa won’t find out. Your Harbingers won’t find out. No one will find out if there’s no evidence”. He steps closer to you, his voice becoming firmer with each word.

“And how do you think you will manage to hide the evidence? You left the knights years ago, you are nothing but a businessman at this point. I doubt they will cover up for you”.

“How did..”

“Oh, Diluc, people talk and I am very, very nosy. That girl, Donna, she told so much to my subordinates about you ”, you mock her, imitating her high breathy manner: “Oh Diluc, he was the youngest captain, but then he left. I wonder why he left? Maybe the knights wronged him!”

“Honestly, with the amount of ire you subject poor knights to, only a deaf and a blind won’t know about how much you despise Favonius Order'', you continue, anger and hatred seeping into your voice.

“I still have connections”, he says absolutely nonchalantly.

“Oh, do you bribe them, then? You criticize the knights for being corrupt, yet you are willing to ask them to hide my abduction? It’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Diluc doesn’t answer this time, finally stepping out of the room and locking the door. You sit alone in a dimly lit room, water still all over you and heart quickly beating in your chest, trying to calm down. Later, when your heartbeat stops booming in your own ears, you pray to Tsaritsa, asking Goddess to grant you strength and endurance.

***

You manage to doze off once your clothes are almost dry. The dreams you see are vague and murky, dripping with a sense of unease and anxiety, you see dark silhouettes that morph into looming shadows that later transform into phantasmagorical monsters. It must be why you wake up the same second door opens with Diluc entering the room.

He looks grimmer now, more determined. You brace yourself for his hands tugging at your hair again and lungs burning from lack of oxygen, but none of it comes. He uses a dagger to slice your clothes off, careful not to damage skin underneath. Out of pure nerves you quip some stupid joke about dining first, but he pays you no mind, his hands soon touching your bare legs and looks at them with a filthy stare, his red eyes consuming revealed flesh.

You still under his stare, heart pounding as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of what he might do to you right now. Almost a minute passes, when he finally stops staring at your legs and begins to move his arms, caressing your inner side of the thigh instead.

You shift from the discomfort, alarmed when his palms start to heat up. He wants to burn me, you think and barely stop yourself from screaming by biting your lip. A disgusting smell of burnt flesh fills up your nose as tears start to travel down your face. He removes the hand, revealing two angry red imprints with a collection of small blisters already forming. Diluc, again, asks the same question, and just like the last time you refuse to answer.

He does upkeep his threat of becoming much worse, with his hands burning your naked body - he targets sensitive spots or joints,so everytime you shift or move they throb and burn, disturbed at the smallest of motions.

“You're not the one to think about the consequences, are you?”, you ask when he finishes, voice quiet and raspy from screaming.

"No one will find you".

"I am one of the Tsaritsa's most trusted servants, of course they will find me", you pretend you don't hear desperation in your own voice.

"Time will show", Diluc says philosophically, looking as gentlemanly as possible despite him torturing you seconds ago.

"Yes, it will", you agree with him, picturing the bastard's face once he gets thrown in prison.

He leaves the room and you allow yourself to slump, careful not to move burned areas too much, and then he returns again, this time with food and medicine. He works fast at bandaging and disinfecting the burns, seems he is as intent at patching you up, as he is at tearing you apart. As he swathes another burn, you look at the brought food.

It’s unlikely he would drug it to make you tell the truth, given that he already tortures you and he doesn’t seem to be a type to play mind games. It still could be laced with poison though, not lethal one, that would be counterproductive, but the one that can cause pain and tremors all over your body. You’ve seen such substance at work once, when Il Dottore decided to show you the fruits of his experiments - victims were thrashing and shaking on the floor once a five minute mark had been passed, by the twentieth they already admitted to all crimes, regardless of how innocent they were.

It might be even a new torture method, devised by Diluc, just to strip you from the short respite when you are not in pain. He finally looks up to you, finishing the bandage, noticing the stare you look at the food with. "It's not poisoned" he guesses your thoughts, taking a small bite and a sip to prove his words. A minute passes, then the second and the third ones, nothing happens with him, no blushing or paling skin, no wide blown or pinprick pupils, nothing. It still could be a slow acting poison, but you doubt it - they're usually harder to cure, Diluc wouldn't willingly consume it given the long list of aftereffects that remain even after antidote was administered.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay to feed you, leaving you with food alone. It’s a potato hash browns, absolutely unseasoned and cold. You almost swallow them whole from hunger, realizing how starved you are once the smell of food reaches you. After a day(?) of fasting, satiation hits you full force, drowsiness pulling at every muscle. The tableware he brought is metallic and easily bends, so you can't smash it and use sharp pieces, nor are there any utensils to weaponize. You lay down on the side, as something falls on you. It's a stone.

Your hands take it, feeling its shape - mostly smooth with one angular protrusion. It's not sharp or pointed enough for you to cut through the bindings, but with enough time and effort it can break the rope with friction alone. You begin to work, grating the rope again and again, fighting off the sleepiness.

***

Diluc nods to Adelinde, as he returns from Mondstadt after signing the contract with winesellers from Inazuma. She understands this wordless gesture, starting to talk: “The.. guest you brought has eaten, last time I checked they still were awake. I did my best to be quiet, master Diluc”.

He dismisses her, thanking for her observations and decides to go down himself. A strange sort of fascination fills him, as he turns the key in the lock, that also prompts a burning shame that he grew accustomed to in the last few days.

It’s an awful thing, to find pleasure in another’s suffering - a trait of a heartless monster, as his father once said, but despite the chagrin he still can’t help but feel a quickening of the pulse as a pained whimper escapes your lips. It’s addicting honestly, to have you of all people, naked and trembling and helpless at his total control, when you were so close to ending his life just a couple of months ago. He supposes it's a type of karmic punishment to you, a fatui harbinger, no doubt a killer and horrible person - you deserve it, he tells to himself - you deserve it for being a fatui.

Moreover, you are not only a terrible, terrible person that deserves much more gruesome torture that he allows, you are also a source of priceless information - how many lives will be saved and avenged if you just tell him what fatuis plan to do. You are a harbinger, you are bound to know something, unlike most of the fatui.

Diluc carefully glances at you as he enters - you are still sitting in the same spot he left you in, head slumped low and shoulders relaxed. It seems you are asleep. He still makes his way to you, steps slow and quiet. Your hands are bound with rope and Diluc knows how much the rough fiber pulls and chafes at skin, grating it to the blood and ropeburns - he needs to use this short respite to quickly disinfect and bandage you again.

Diluc crouches down, as you twitch and then something aims for his head, he flinches a second too slow to dodge. You nearly manage to hit him right in the temple. His head almost splits in half from the burst of pain, vision blurry and disoriented.

You quickly stand, enduring the pain from the burns and make your way to the room. Diluc runs after you, panic and anger distorting his face in equal manner - he can’t let anyone see you like that! - but you manage to lock him in using his own keys. He kicks and thrashes the door, angry at himself for not carrying claymore with him, as something loudly collides with the wall at the other side. He hears a short surprised yelp and whimper - your whimper and the too familiar footsteps descending down the stairs- Adelinde.

“Master Diluc? Is everything okay?”, the headmaid unlocks the room, concern in her voice:”I saw.. the guest running out of the basement, so I pushed them back before other maids could see”

“Everything is fine, check on the Harbinger, I still need intel”.

Turns out, you blacked out upon the impact, a small trail of blood making its way down the head. Diluc is still angry at you, head throbbing and hurting, his hands itching to hit and burn you, but he can’t allow himself to lose control: you are hurt and he doesn’t want to kill you.

In the end, it’s all predictable, Diluc muses, you are an animal first and human second, your allegiance testament to that. He was too soft, too forgiving on you and you decided to twist his kindness like a blade in the back. His head still hurts, but he finally calms, reasoning your attack as an outlash of a mindless beast.

He carries your limp body in hands, finally taking out of the basement and takes you to one of the guest rooms at the second floor of the winery - it’s a risky move, but you injured your head and in Diluc’s experiences such traumas almost always carry a great risk - maybe you will even forget who you are and there’ll be no one for Diluc to interrogate to.

Placing your body on the bed he clasps a cuff around each of your limbs and gags and blindfolds you. After a second, he asks Adelinde for cotton and stuffs your ears full of it.

Human mind stripped of all stimuli is such a dangerous thing, tearing itself apart.

***

You wake up to darkness and silence, head slightly pulsing from pain. You lie on some sort of very soft bed, silk smooth sheets consuming and hugging most of your body as you wiggle your limbs, tugging at the cuffs.

A small wave of panic washes over you, as you remain absolutely blind and deaf to the world, but you try to remain calm, unsure if Diluc is standing near or not. The bindings on your hands are made of iron now, so you soon stop, knowing it's a futile thing. The only thing you can do is wait.

You don't know how much time passes between you regaining consciousness and the air shifting around you. Having been stripped of both sight and hearing, your other senses became a bit sharper, mind focusing on them to compensate. It's a subtle change of pressure but you still feel it, it's enough for you to guess where this person stands. Suddenly hands grope at you, touching and probing the place near burns. You would scream if it wasn’t for the gag, from pain and violation alone. It's a smaller palms, judging by sensations, they change the bandages. After whoever that was finishes patching you they leave you alone, their departure evoking both relief and sadness - they were a source of stimulations, stimulations that your mind desperately needs.

You start to tug at the bindings again - this time to procure pain, just to feel something again. You are bored, you are in pain and you are scared - not the best combination. Soon, you decide to distract yourself from ever increasing boredom with memories. Images of your past life flash and change before you - here’s you playing catch and hide and seek, here’s you receiving a vision, here’s you entering fatui and climbing through the ranks, here's you receiving delusion from Tsaritsa’s own hands and here's you battling Diluc for the first time.

I should have killed him, you think, I should have spent less time talking and more time fighting, the bastard wouldn't live to see another day and I wouldn't be here.

A strange feeling of panic settles in your bones, as you try to occupy yourself, it's subtle but never ending, slowly growing with each second. You try to daydream but you can’t, not when you are cuffed and your body burns. You try to reminisce again, but you can do only so much, memories becoming dull and repetitive. Soon, the subtle panic becomes not so subtle and you realize you are gasping and thrashing, limbs achings as you rub them against the rough shackles.

You must have blacked out or drifted to sleep, because the next time you wake up you feel a bit different - a little cleaner and more sated - they tend to me, when I am unconscious you realize. Diluc wants to limit all interactions I have.

You don't know how much time you spend there in the end, but it has a profound effect on you - at first the concept of sharing fatui plans with your captor seems nonsensical and traitorous, but after a couple of days-weeks(?) of being chained to one place with limited movement and perception, it stops looking like such a bad idea to you.

Time distorts around you, you can't tell how long you were lying there, seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into near eternities. At one point you started to cry again, scared and panicked and then you proceeded to scream.

***

Diluc comes to you again, taking out the cotton and blindfold from your person. Your eyes hurt and your head starts to ache again from the rush of noises, and you blink a couple of times to see the man before you. A strange mix of emotions washes over you - you hate Diluc, you truly despise him with every fibre of your being, yet now Diluc is the only person you have, the only person you see. It’s so confusing and overwhelming that you start to cry, unable to process any of the feelings.

Diluc looks as prim and proper as ever, as he shushes your crying and promises to let you go if only you will tell Tsaritsa’s plans. You almost believe him, Fatui secrets dancing at the tip of his mouth, yet you hold on to the pieces of your loyalty, slowly shaking your head. He asks you again, doubt and concern in his voice. It will be better if you tell me, he says, his hand still stroking you, don’t you want to walk and see again?.

His hand stops stroking you, face turning back to stone when you refuse him for the second time. He fixes blindfold and cotton again and part of you is howling - it’s scary, so scary to be left alone with nothing but your thoughts.

This time you start to break far faster, having tasted freedom for a mere second. You break down and tell Diluc everything you know next time he visits. His hand on you feels like salvation and punishment at the same time. At the end of your confession you are too empty, all of your secrets laid before him, no place for sadness or grief left inside of you. You feel whatever was inside of you was scorched off by Diluc and it left you thoroughly burnt. Dead. Made of ash.

“My name is [First]”, you wail and howl, shoulders slightly shaking as you do. You want so much to have some human contact, to hear someone call your name for once.

It’s cathartic in a way, to tell all the secrets your mind has been bustling with ever since becoming a harbinger. He doesn’t flinch or frown when you tell what exactly you witnessed or did, intently listening to each word.

He keeps his promise and uncuffs you from the bed, but you are still not allowed to leave the room, which doesn’t really disappoint you. There are books and a small barred window that opens a view to the wineyard, a feast for the starving mind. You spend at least an hour standing at the window at first, amazed that you can see people working.

He gifts you clothes and other books, assigns a housemaid to look after you, the same one that pushed you down the stairs when you were running away, she doesn’t speak to you, preferring to avoid your gaze.

Sometimes you do feel sad - you betrayed Tsaritsa, you betrayed your homeland, you lost both vision and delusion - but you quickly shove it down, unable to process feelings properly. You know you are defeated, having seen similar behavior from fatui prisoners, and Diluc knows it too, a malice and triumph and satisfaction burning on his eyes, despite the impassive face.

He sees you as a trophy, a reminder of how he reduced the great fatui harbinger to your current condition. He orders you around and punishes when you disobey, calls it reeducation, calls it teaching you how to be a decent person, calls it a punishment for your sins. A part of you wants to retort and point out his own failings, but you stop yourself at the root, unwilling to be stripped from the world again. You comply, you suppress, you break little by little. It all pleases him.

You learn to love what hurt you the most out of pure fear.

***

“First?”, it’s Diluc, shaking you slightly by the shoulders. You snap back to reality, seeing that he already carried you to bed and undressed you.

“I am here, you can continue” you whisper as he leans down to pepper your chest and collarbone with kisses, and then hiss as he bites you.

“Mhm, that’s good,” he says, warm hands traveling down to your thighs, caressing the inner side: “Could you spread them a bit?”

You obey, equally parts scared and excited.

Truly, Diluc is the best thing that happened in your life.

Note: All fatui harbinger names are taken from commedia dell'arte. Innamorati are a couple of lovers, madly in love with each other and with the idea of being in love. I thought it would be ironic.

#yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin #Yandere diluc #yandere x reader #yandere #I am lowkey dissapointed in myself #Both reader and diluc are bad people #My sleep meds stopped working:(((#my writing

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jishyucks · 3 years

Text

Me and You Against the World ‣ hjs

‣ genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage, female reader, pls read an!

‣ wc: 4.7k

‣ summary: "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you…"; in which you don't let the words of others get in the way of your relationship with Jisung

‣ warnings?: Itzy is mean in this (but it doesn't reflect how they are irl!), prejudice due to less wealth, lots of thinking

‣ an: These events are what leads to this fic but in a different 'era.' Basically, I decided to just write the ending of this fic in a rich kid au setting instead of a royal au setting and just post that,,, but since I already wrote a lot of it, I decided to post it! It can be read separately but this doesn't have a proper ending.

You can vividly remember the reactions of all the other princesses when they found out you were arranged to marry none other than Prince Han Jisung. They snickered and laughed. They blatantly shared pitiful glances, taking turns to pat your shoulder as if it could bring you a sense of comfort.

Of course, at the growing age of fourteen, you had no idea why they had been acting as so. From images and stories you received of the Prince, he seemed like someone who would be easy to get along with. So why the judgmental looks?

"They're the poorest of all the kingdoms, Y/N," Yeji pointed out, "Your kingdom is one of the richest, of course, after mine. Don't you think that's rather odd?" She traced the laces of her gloves and scoffed discourteously.

You bring the teacup up to your mouth, eyeing your friend curiously, "What do you mean by that?" You gulped, afraid that the image of your family name would be stained. It was not your choice, however, nor your parents'. You had been drawn to be last when choosing a suitor, and naturally, from the apparent reputation and wealth of the Han family, their son was the last left to be selected.

Yeji scoffed, the other princesses laughing at how naive you've been acting, "Obviously, their family's going to leech off of your family. I think your parents should rethink their decision of choosing Han Jisung as your future husband."

Shaking your head, you frowned at the meaningless words that your friend had been spitting out, "I don't think that's needed… Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out? How bad can Han Jisung be?”

Lia finally speaks up, "I heard that he rolls around the mud with their pigs."

"And… he doesn't even take a bath after doing so," Yuna budges in. She stirred the cooling tea with a miniature spoon, a smirk rising up to her lips, "Imagine how his bed smells. Rancid."

"I hear he's poor-mannered, too… that he lacks the respect a prince should need towards others," Ryujin says stiffly, "Just generally not fit to be a king. I feel bad for you, Y/N."

There was a brief silence between the six of you, the sound of Yuna's spoon tapping the sides of the cup occupying that silence. Though you felt yourself frown at the possibility that you were to be married to an ill-mannered prince, you quickly shook those thoughts out and tried your best to ignore them. You were taught never to be driven towards believing rumours or gossip in this case. Who were they to judge someone they never met? Except for Yeji, who met him through her brother.

"I ask you all not to pity me in any sort," you finally say, "Not until I've met him. Besides… those are just rumours. He could be much better than you hear." Satisfied with how you handled the situation, you straightened your back and took a long sip of your tea, mentally preparing yourself for your first meeting with the Prince.

—

Upon arriving at the valley region, the kingdom owned by the Han's, you immediately understand why your parents settled with their son. Though you were last to choose your suitor, your parents and his parents seemed to be closely acquainted, smiles on their faces and direct contact as they greeted each other. You stood back, watching the exchange begin and end, rather amused at how happy both sets of parents looked.

"I'm so happy you all arrived safely," the Queen of the valley region clasped her hands. The King nodded and let his wife continue, "And I'm so glad that our children are to be married by chance… All the other young princesses chose, while you–" She looked over your mother's shoulder and at you, "You and my precious son fell into this arrangement by fate's doing! The world wanted this."

Your mother responded by smiling fondly, "I never viewed the situation like that!" They begin to move up the stairs towards the front entryway, the knights moving along the four majesties. You followed closely behind, listening in on the conversation as you let your eyes wander around. "My mother had been upset that Y/N fell last, telling me I would not be able to choose the best," your mother began, "But I don't see any problem with that."

Compared to other castles you've visited, you could definitely see how much wealth the Hans did have. It was still very much a beautiful castle. It was well-kept and unique in build. Something drew you to it. But you couldn't exactly point out what part of it did.

"I understand your mother's perspective," the King chuckled, "No one likes being last. However, I believe that in such matter, no one is stuck with the 'worst.'"

At this point, everyone had entered the castle, and this was when you could see that the Hans were, in fact, less wealthy than the other royal families. Much of the furniture and interior decorations were quite old, almost antique, but again, it was a feature of the castle that drew you in. The outside of the castle looked much larger than the interior.

"Ah! I almost forgot," the Queen turned to look at your family, "My son is out and about exploring. We instructed him to come in time to greet you guys at the entrance but boys his age never listen." At the mention of Jisung, you almost forgot about him, causing your curiosity to rise.

"Miss Kim?"

A lady appeared from another room, hurriedly approaching the Queen with a bow, "Yes, your majesty?"

"Please escort Princess Y/N to Prince Jisung," she instructed gently, "It will be nice for them to get acquainted while we continue with our conversation about this arrangement."

Miss Kim nodded and waved you over with a motherly smile, "Let us go, Princess." You quickly bid your parents goodbye before trailing behind Miss Kim. Though her legs were short, she moved with ease, almost flying down the corridor with a constant speed. She didn't look back to see if you had still been following her as your footsteps helped her indicate your presence.

"I suspect the Prince is somewhere by the garden," she mutters urgently, "Or by the river."

"River?" you questioned. The idea of a river caused you to smile. Your family ruled the mountain region, meaning there were not many rivers to visit. A river would be a nice change in scenery. Miss Kim finally leads you out of the back of the castle, the sight of flowers taking over your line of sight.

"Prince Jisung?" she called out, "Prince Jisung?" It was rather enjoyable seeing Miss Kim run around frantically in search of the Prince. Your mind wanders back to the conversation you had with other princesses, how the Prince is ill-mannered, one who was not fit to be a king. With his absence in greeting you and your family, you're afraid that the other princesses were actually correct with this information.

"I'm over here, Miss Kim!" a voice called out, "By the pond!"

Once again, Miss Kim waved for you to follow you. You hiked up your dress and tried your best to keep up with her speed, though she still kept the same pace she previously had. She walked straight down the stone path, turning right onto another pathway, and then left, finally revealing a beautifully decorated pond.

"Ah, there you are, my prince!" Miss Kim had been blocking your view of the third presence, marching towards the pond. You let her move ahead, allowing her to approach the Prince on her own, "The Y/L/Ns are here… your mother strictly told you that you should be there to greet them."

Still a voice with no face, you hear him reply, "I'm sorry, I lost track of time… I'm feeding the fish!" There was a moment of silence as the Prince went to stand up, finally revealing the frame of his body to you. He turns to face your direction. His head was kept down as he dusted off the dirt from his pants.

"Do I have time to chan–" The Prince finally noticed you standing yards away from him and Miss Kim, causing him to halt abruptly in his words, "–ge?"

"Your parents have ordered for you two to get acquainted," Miss Kim stated, "I assume I will be the one to call you both shortly for dinner." At this, she turns to hurry back, leaving you and the Prince alone.

He bows stiffly, "Nice to meet you. I'm Jisung."

He bowed… that's a good indication of manners, right? You curtsy, "I'm Y/N."

"I know who you are," he says happily, beginning to walk back towards the main path. You follow, "You know they call you the 'Snow Princess' here? Which I don't understand because the mountains aren't always filled with snow." He looks back to see if you followed him, "Do you mind if we drop our titles with each other? We are at the same standing."

"I don't mind," you replied. You're taken aback at his apparent tendency to talk, "We are arranged to marry in a few years…."

"Well, Y/N," he begins, a bright smile on his face, "How should we begin?"

You watch as he advances forward, hands swinging carelessly, something you were taught never to do. As a princess, you were taught to cross your hands in front of you to give you a poised appearance. Jisung had a hop in his step, his posture could be straighter, and his hair was unkempt. You could already say that Yeji's brother, Hyunjin, was probably the opposite of Jisung. He kept himself tidy, he came on time to schedules and never interrupted when another was speaking. This is perhaps what Ryujin meant when she said Jisung was not fit for a king.

"How do you like to spend your time?" You questioned. You figured that this was a way to start a conversation, hoping that it would blossom into another.

Jisung hummed in thought, "If I'm not doing my studies or sleeping, I tend to spend my time here… just deep in thought." He raised his arms, presenting the garden to you.

"You don't go horseback riding? How about practicing swordsmanship?"

He shrugs, "We're short on horses right now, and my father is prioritizing the knights with the horses since they need it. As for swordsmanship, my mother wants me to wait until I'm older."

Short on horses?

"Ahhh, I understand," you nodded awkwardly, "If you ever come to my kingdom, I'll take you horseback riding! You seem like the person who would love doing it."

This sparks a feeling of joy in Jisung, a smile reflecting it, "That would be really nice! I'll look forward to that." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, "How about you? How do you spend your time?"

"I do studies, like you… I read, visit the village. Horseback riding, of course… suddenly I can't think once I'm asked," you laughed, "But I'm often very active and doing my duties."

"Your life sounds a lot more interesting than mine," he grins, trying to laugh the sad reality off, "It's evident in the way you can't even list all of your activities." You could see his smile start to falter, bangs falling over his forehead as he looked down at his feet.

You feel your heart stutter, and soon you're frowning. The words you had told the other princesses echoed in your head. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out?

Reaching out, you grab ahold of his wrist. At the sudden contact, he flinched slightly before relaxing at the realization, "You're still happy, aren't you?"

He nods gently, still dwelling on the fact that even though you both stood at the same social standing, his wealth didn't amount to yours, and he couldn't help but be embarrassed. He couldn't help but feel bad you were stuck with him as a future husband when it was quite obvious you could do better.

"Then that's what matters," you say. A part of you wanted to tell him not to compare his life to others, but you stopped yourself, refraining from creating emphasis on your wealth and his supposed slight lack of it.

At your exchange of glances and sympathetic smiles, the footsteps of Miss Kim grew closer. Looking over, you see as she's waving you both over for dinner. Jisung nodded and held up a thumbs up to indicate that you both were going to follow, sending Miss Kim back to tend to the meal.

Jisung turns to once more, "Thank you, Y/N. I'll live by that."

–

"So?"

Yeji, Hyunjin, and Lia sat around the table, eyeing you as if you owed them something of great importance. You stared back at them, straightening your back as you become aware of the attention on you.

"Pardon?" What is it that you needed to tell them? You didn't recall promising them any sort of information, nor did you have news to pass on.

"How was your visit to the valley region?" Lia questioned, "Was it all as they say it was?"

Yeji leaned towards you, "And Prince Jisung? Was he ill-mannered?"

You mentally bring a hand to your forehead, comprehending what it was they were expecting from you. You assume they wanted you to traduce the Han family and their kingdom. But despite the obvious difference in wealth they had from the rest of the kingdoms and the fact that Jisung lacked the training he needed as a prince, you found no problems in the Han family.

"Their castle was unique," you begin, "It was beautiful, actually." You use a fork to poke into the sliced fruit laid out on a plate, bringing it to your mouth as you wait for their reactions. As anticipated, puzzled looks rose up onto their faces, rather confused about your comment. You continue, "The interior was beautiful as well. Not as extravagant as the Hwang family's castle, but it was still a sight to look at. It was adorned with flowers.

"As for Prince Jisung," you could feel some sense of protection over him, biting back your tongue from saying rude things to those in front of you, "He's just as much a prince as Hyunjin. He's playful and carefree, is all. So I hope you all should refrain from listening to the gossip being spread about the Han family, especially since they're going to be part of my family in the future." The three of them sat back and nodded. You wished you could laugh at the embarrassed and apologetic looks on their faces, but to their eyes, that would not be very polite of you.

ii.

It wasn't until two years later that Jisung had been actually able to visit your kingdom. Though you did enjoy visiting his kingdom and enjoying the change in scenery, having him come to yours was something you had wished for ever since you met him.

Over the past two years of getting to know each other, you had grown much closer than you initially expected. Jisung had a view on life that contrasted to yours in more ways than one, and learning of the different perspectives of the world allowed you to adopt an open mind. You believe that he made you a better princess and future Queen.

Likewise, Jisung has been able to get a taste of what a typical royal life is like through you. Though his family was still able to experience the everyday duties and privilege of being royalty, there were limitations when it came to his position. Through you, he could at least understand what other things were expected of him. As he grew physically, he grew mentally, learning to appear princely in front of others without completely stripping the playful personality he had around those close to him.

Regardless of what others did say about the Han family, the relationship between you both worked well in all sorts of ways. You would always think about what Jisung's mother had told your parents, how you both were brought together by fate, and in that sense, you guys were meant to be partners.

"Ready to ride horses?" You had a mischievous grin on your face as you pulled the boy behind you.

"Why are you smiling as if the horses could kill me?" Jisung eyed you suspiciously, genuinely afraid of what could happen next. He stumbled over his own feet as he followed you, scared yet excited.

You laughed, "I mean, they can, but they won't."

The two of you finally arrived at the stable, catching Seungmin placing the saddles onto the horses. He greeted you and Jisung with a bow before speeding up in doing his task.

"I promise you, I won't let you get hurt in any way," you say. You asked Seungmin to bring the horse out for Jisung, who refused to guide the horse without experience, "You'll get the hang of it. Watch me get on and do the same."

He nods, listening to every single syllable of your words. Setting your left foot onto the stirrup, you grab hold of the saddle and heave yourself up after a couple of bounces on your right foot. You swing your leg over your horse, Blizz, with ease, quickly making yourself comfortable on the horse.

"That… that can't be too hard…." Jisung muttered. He mirrors what you previously did, setting his foot onto the stirrup and grabbing hold of the top of the saddle. You watched as he bounces countlessly on his right foot, unable to find the right time to pull himself up.

"Do you need help, Prince Jisung?" Seungmin questioned. You almost forgot that he was standing aside because of how amused you had grown in watching Jisung.

Jisung shook his head, mentally shooing Seungmin away as he finally times everything right and heaves himself up. Forgetting to throw his leg over the horse's, Buran, body, for a brief moment, Jisung's body had been doing over the horse, hovering as his foot stuck to the stirrup.

"Sung, throw your leg over!" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. You shouldn't even laugh, as he barely rides horses, but you couldn't help but find the situation hysterical. Jisung was close to panicking, but right when he was going to back off of the horse, he finally found the courage to build momentum to swing his leg over.

"I did it!" He gasped. Jisung shifted slightly on the saddle to make himself comfortable, a proud and bright smile on his face.

"You're a natural!" You tease. You let Blizz move closer to Buran, mirroring Jisung's smile widely, "It's actually difficult getting on horses. I'm surprised you didn't have much trouble."

"Of course," he joked, winking, "I'm me."

You playfully hit his shoulder before going over the ways he was supposed to guide his horse. He listened carefully, never seeming to blink for the next ten minutes of your brief lesson, "I won't go any faster than this." You rode circles around Jisung, keeping your attention directly on him. Judging by the expression on his face, he was nervous to begin moving, "Are you ready?"

Jisung nods confidently, gesturing for you to go ahead of him so that he can follow.

"I'm staying beside you," you told him.

You both started off slow, following a man-made path that circled your family's castle. Jisung had great control of Buran, though his knuckles were white from the grip had on its reins. You assure him that he was okay, that Buran was well trained and would not go out of control even with the most hectic of occurrences.

"Are you sure you haven't ridden before?" You questioned, "Wanna speed up a little bit?"

He nods, "Not so quick, though… I want to ease into it." You nod understandingly as you both begin to speed up. He follows you, heart pounding at the possibility that Buran would not understand his controls, "I've ridden once before, but my father was the one controlling the horse… He let me hold onto the reins, but that was about it."

"How long ago was that?"

"When I was about five."

Making plenty of rounds around the castle, you decide to divert down the path down to the edge of the town. Jisung followed you, even moving slightly ahead, "Your kingdom is beautiful, Y/N."

"I could say that about yours, Sung," you catch up to him and let your gaze fall onto Jisung. The gentle breeze softly brushed through his hair, exposing his forehead. You could tell that he was slowly growing used to the feeling of riding. You figured that speaking to him was a great distraction from the nerves.

He smiles at the mention of his home before shaking his head, "Oh hush… this is about you." He returns your gaze, snickering once he gets a proper look at you. Despite you both being on horses, the space between you both would have been considered close.

"What's so funny?"

He reaches forward and picks out a leaf that had flown into your hair, "Since when did you get so messy?" Letting the leaf fly out of his hand, he winks jokingly at you, causing you to almost fall off Blizz.

"I've always been messy," you rolled your eyes. At the sight of the town, you advanced faster, making sure that Jisung was comfortable without your guidance, "The only reason my bedroom is not cave-like is because of the caretakers."

Jisung won't say it out loud, but somehow, flaws such as this made him fall harder for you. Though you appeared to fit how princesses should be, the more he learned about you, the more he understood that you were just as human as any of those he ruled and you ruled.

"Do you want to stop by the bakery before returning to the castle?" You turned back to look at Jisung, who had chosen to fall back slightly just to catch a glimpse of you, "You can meet Mr. Yang! He'll love you!"

Jisung nodded and trailed closely behind you, ensuring that he wouldn't lose you, not that he actually would lose you. The town's buildings grew closer, the townspeople walking to and from them.

It was nice to see the attire and the architecture of those who lived in your region. Compared to Jisung's region, where people often wore sleeveless or short sleeves, the people wore longer sleeves and thin layers. Though the weather was not at all bad, he figured that they had grown used to this type of weather and generally wanted to dress warmer. The buildings were built on top of platforms that separated the actual structure from the ground, probably to avoid the permafrost during colder days.

"We're here," you turned back, noticing the awe in Jisung's expression. He shook the look off and smiled, slowing the speed of his steed just as u had, "I wonder if Jeongin is in! I've known him since I was younger."

Jisung took time to hop off his horse before dusting off his trousers to make himself look presentable. You were ensuring that the horses were tied tightly at a nearby post, waiting for Jisung to join you. Once he had done so, you both made your way into a large building, the name of the bakery on the front: Yang-Yum Bakery.

"Mr. Yang!"

"Princess! Welcome!" An older man had his head raised over the counter, a deep smile on his face, "And is this Prince Jisung?" He stood up straight and bowed, "Welcome to my bakery. Princess Y/N has told me so much about you!"

Jisung felt his ears warm up before smiling back, "Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Yang."

The baker kept the smile on his face as he moved down the counter towards his baked goods, "What would you like? It is on me today as a welcome gift to the Prince."

Jisung's eyes widened at the selection of goods, his mouth watering at how good they all looked. He could hear you thanking Mr. Yang, "Is Jeongin helping out today?"

"Unfortunately not, Princess. He's out doing errands for Mrs. Yang," Mr. Yang retorted. You nodded understandingly before turning your attention down towards the treats. You spot your favourite ones, the meringue cookies, and then the honey-bread, a close second.

"What do you want, Sung?" You questioned quietly, gesturing to Mr. Yang the two choices, "You'll probably enjoy any of them." You could see his eyes moving back and forth across the options, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'd like those," Jisung points towards egg tarts, "And those, please." His finger pointed towards strawberry cream croissants, a satisfied look appearing on his face.

"Coming right up," Mr. Yang smiled and prepped the baked goods for you and Jisung, tying them into a cloth bag. He pushed it towards you with a warm smile, "I hope you enjoy them all. See you, Princess. It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince Jisung." He bowed and softly waved.

You and Jisung bowed back before taking your leave. Soon you both were back outside, people still carrying out their duties. They had not noticed that you were present, which you did not really mind. It was nice not being the center of attention once in a while. And while Jisung was here, you didn't want the usual fuss that occurred when you visited the village.

Speaking too soon, a younger girl noticed your attire, immediately indicating that you were a royal. She smiled and curtsied, "Afternoon, princess."

"Afternoon," you smiled back.

At that small exchange, others followed in pursuit, also noticing the presence of the Prince next to you. And because they did recognize him, you couldn't help but take note of the fact that people were whispering, which wasn't what usually occurred when you were in town.

Upon hearing Jisung's name in their hushed remarks, your ears perked, miraculously gaining the ability to hear the words they spoke, "Isn't that the Prince of the valley? The poorer kingdom."

"Yes… you can tell just from how he's dressed."

Shaking your head, you tune out the insults being 'secretly' thrown towards Jisung, who, judging by the look on his face, could also hear them talk. It was sad how people were so quick to judge.

"This is Prince Jisung," you say confidently, "The one who I will marry in a few years' time… I ask that you respect him as much as you respect my father."

They shut their mouths, bowing to follow what you had asked of them. Jisung's gaze fell onto you, hundreds of thoughts rooted from different beliefs clashing inside his head. The people had dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

Though you smiled at him, he couldn't help but feel bad that you had to stand up for him. Every time someone mentioned the wealth of his kingdom, he couldn't have but believed you deserved better, especially because there was a drastic difference between your family's wealth and his family's wealth.

Y/N shouldn't be going through this…

"Should we get going?" You questioned, "There are more things I want to show you." You acted so casually about such a situation that Jisung could sense that you've already been in a position. Just how many times have you stood up for him?

Though the idea should be giving him a sense of comfort, he still felt as though he should be doing something in return. Securing yourselves back on the horses, you begin making your way back to the castle. There was a short period of silence before Jisung had spoken up, "You don't need to defend me, you know. But thank you."

You glance over at him and frown, "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you… And as your future wife, it is my duty to defend you. Besides, if it were the other way around, you would do the same."

That night, Jisung couldn't help but let the words play over in his head. You were right. He would do the same for you, but it was because he adored you. Did this mean that you felt the same?

"Part Two"

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Hypothetically | Chapter 21-24

Summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast. friends to lovers, case of the week style story.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

A/N; thee case in c21 is personal to me, like fictional revenge.

word count so far: 70K (chapter 1-25)

chapter 21

Having Spencer all to herself for 3 weeks straight was an experience she’ll never forget. They had the whole month of January off together, painting and re-decorating their home till it was exactly how they wanted it. It felt like home, it was theirs for real now.

Painting the bedroom green was the best idea she’s ever had. When the sun finally woke them up every morning, it wasn’t as blinding. It was paradise. The golden beams of light cast a beautiful glow around the room, it was like she was in a magic forest at the start of every day.

Spencer was laying on his back, his hair scattered on the pillow. He looked so peaceful, sleeping with his mouth wide open. Y/N was leaning on her elbow, looking down at the beautiful man she had the pleasure of spending the rest of her life with.

She brushed the hair off his face, watching his nose scrunch up as he felt her fingertips on his cheek. The sun on his face made him glow, he looked like a gift from god laying before her.

“Good morning baby,” she whispered softly. Dragging her finger along his jaw and down his neck, “we get to go to work today.”

Spencer stretched as he woke up, slipping an arm under her and pulling her into his chest. She held on tight, kissing his neck as she settled in. “Morning,” he replied. Raspy as ever.

“Wanna go get breakfast?” She asked softly.

He laughed against her skin, “gotta feed the baby.”

“And the wiiiife,” she teased.

“Not for another 11 weeks and 2 days,” he corrected her. “But yes, we should go get breakfast,” he whispered after a moment.

“Come on get up,” she replied with a big smile. He patted her ass as she peeled out of his grasp. Sitting up and stretching, taking a look down at the basketball protruding from her stomach. “Damn.”

“What?” Spencer asked.

She stood up beside the bed and pulled her shirt up, showing Spencer how big her stomach was. Turning sideways so he really got a good look at it. Spencer leaned over and kissed her right on her belly button that was beginning to pop.

“I know your ears are on in there, I love you, Matthew,” Spencer whispered against her skin.

She couldn’t stop smiling, taking a moment to rub her hands over the bump in amazement. “Hi Mr. Matty MaGoo, mommy also loves you.”

“Mr. Matty MaGoo?” Spencer laughed, looking at her with the biggest smile.

“Yes,” She laughed. “It just came to me, and it's going to stick.”

“Derek’s been calling him Mini G,” Spencer added.

“We should tell him it's Matthew, then he can be little Matty G,” Y/N swooned. “Seriously let’s go I miss everyone.”

“Okay, okay go get ready then,” he insisted, getting out of bed and dragging her to the bathroom.

—

Spencer drove, giving her a chance to look over her work emails before the day started. She was still CC’d on a bunch of VICAP things, being able to snoop on what was coming in and inspecting it.

Sometimes Mindy would CC her in just for an opinion.

Subject: Found Something. From; Mindy Patel To; SSA Y/N Y/L/N, Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA-CL Jennifer Jareau

There’s been a child abduction in Arizona, I’ve pieced together some thing’s I’ve been working on in the background that might help the case if you are called in to assist. Even if you are not I believe you should take a look at this.

Mindy Patel, VICAP.

Attachment

Year: 1998 Victim 1: Emily Lawrence - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 1998. Williams, AZ Found: June 10th, 2001. Camp Verde, AZ ME: decay has he placed at 48 hours postmortem when she was found - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2001 Victim 2: Olivia Tomms - 13. Kept till 16 Taken: August 3rd, 2001. Payson, AZ Found: June 23rd, 2004. Florence, AZ ME: decay has her at about 2 weeks postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2004 Victim 3: Shelby Summers - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 2004. Peach Springs, AZ Found: July 16th, 2007. Keams, AZ ME: decay has her at over a month postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2007 Victim 4: Beth Green - 11. Kept till 13 Taken: August 3rd, 2007. Saint John, AZ Found: January 13th, 2010. @ flagstaff hospital. ME: COD complications from a miscarriage. Massive blood loss. - well taken care of. Throat damage. Signs of being detained long term. Info:good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped with remorse like he didn’t want her to die, and he felt sorry because he loved her.

Newest abduction: Name: Sally Irvine - 12 Taken: February 3rd, 3pm. Middle School pick-up (missing 13 hours now) Witness Report: Italian/greek man. Early 30’s. Claimed to be her parents assistant. Sally was used to going home with random people from her parents' work. Handsome man, very charming and convincing. He wore a suit and drove a Silver Honda Civic. Rust at the back, partial plate HC8.

“Fuck,” Y/N cried silently as she scrolled through all the information, even in a compact form.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, looking over at her with concern.

“Um,” she didn’t really know why she was reacting like this at first. Then it hit her. “Mindy sent me a case and it’s hitting a little too close to home.”

“Would you like to explain it yet? It’s okay if you want to process it alone,” Spencer comforted her easily like it was his second nature.

She let out a deep breath. “There’s a serial killer in Arizona that is kidnapping girls between 11 and 13, only keeping them 3 years. Every ME report says they have extensive internal throat damage, and 3 of the 4 found were never pregnant. This unsub is forcing them into oral for 3 years straight.”

“Fuck,” Spencer agreed. “I think we should take this one, if you can’t I would fully understand.”

“I think the unsub is my rapist.”

Spencer pulled over onto the side of the road. Putting the car in park and flashing the 4-ways. He turned to her softly and looked at her with a blank face.

“Walk me through it.”

“What?”

“If I’m going to go in there with you and tell Hotch that this is the same guy who hurt you, then you’re going to need to explain it to him and the team,” Spencer explained softly. “You’ve never even told me the full story, I don’t know anything about that summer other than the fact something happened. The first time you repeat this in front of me is going to be hard, and I don’t want you to have to do that in front of all of them.”

She couldn’t help herself from letting out a small sob, “okay.”

She took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and calm down enough to get full words out of her mouth.

“When I was 12,” she started. “My mom went back to work, and she didn’t trust me to watch my brothers because they were rowdy and never listened to me. Like you said, they were more like my older brothers.

“My dad’s best friend, Jimmy, his wife had MS so she was home all the time. They had 3 older children and a few foster boys, she was used to lots of kids being there. And she had a pool to keep us occupied,” she bit her lip before she explained anymore.

“My mom’s birthday is June 8th. That’s when victim 1 was murdered,” was the first fact she explained that related to the case. She handed Spencer her phone so he could read and follow along.

“My dad is a Mason with the Masonic Lodge in Los Vegas, and he was becoming the master of his division on my mom's birthday that year, so we rented a hall and had a big party. Jimmy’s foster son was there, you remember Christopher Torsey? He was a freshman and I was in grade 6, about to enter grade 7, that was when the grooming started. He took me into the back room and asked if anyone had ever kissed me, I said no. He leaned in and kissed me in the dark and I was a giggly mess.

“My parents and his were really friends and he would come over all the time, our dads would drink in the backyard with our mothers till 1 in the morning most weekends. So I spent long periods of time with this boy for a few years, trusting him like a friend before he started anything. That summer he would always find a way to wander off with me, at first it was just kissing in different places where we could be alone together. Then he would touch my boobs, and he had me take my shirt off a few times.”

Spencer looked calm, but the redness in his face and the pulse in his neck told a different story. Her breathing got heavier as she had to recall it all, and she didn’t want him to be so upset.

“We worked at a local church camp together that July, we’d do crafts and sing songs and after all the kids left and we had to clean up, he’d find a way to take me to the room where they held the nativity scene out of season. He’d start kissing and touching me like normal, and then Kendra walked in once and saw and suddenly he went from obsessed with me, to disgusted, saying I came on to him and that it was all me. He was disgusted by me when we were in public, but he loved me apparently behind closed doors.”

“On August 3rd,” a tear slipped down her cheek. “The day the girls go missing. That was the first time he took me back to the shed and said ‘when two people are in love, they do things, and I love you. So you have to,’ He took his, you know, and I’d never seen one before. It was scary and I didn’t want to, I wanted to leave, but he pushed me against the wall and down to my knees.” She had to stop to take a breath, Spencer was crying silently as he watched her explain it all.

“He kept me trapped there while he did it,” she explained. “The worst part is that his parents were hosting a wedding that night, so no one could hear me basically screaming no over the music. He knew that. And so, when I complained about the sore throat the next day, my parents thought it was from all the singing.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, he looked at her with so much love and sadness, she knew he loved her. She reached across the centre console and wiped the tears off his face, pecking his lips softly before sitting back to continue.

“The dates match up, he was Italian, they’re all 11-13 with throat damage,” she ran it down. “It’s him.”

Spencer licked his lips, wiping the tears off his face before taking a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go tell Hotch.”

Aaron stood up from his desk after Y/N explained the situation, walking up close to her with a sad smile on his face, “this was a very hard thing to come forward with. How would you like to participate in the investigation?” He was soft with her for the first time, it was surreal.

“Um, I’d like to come with you to Arizona,” she said softly. “when Garcia finds him, I’d like to be the one to interview him.”

“Do you think that is a wise idea?” He asked softly.

“When I was 16, years after everything happened. I went to Jimmy’s house for an event, and Christopher was there, and I went to his room. I was so desperate for the bullying to stop. For the lies, he had told about me to go away, that I went in there and apologized to him,” her voice almost disappeared as she got to the end of the sentence. Crying in disbelief. “2 years later he started abducting. I apologized to my rapist and he started kidnapping girls. I need to look him in the eyes and find out why he did it.”

“Okay, let’s tell the team.”

Y/N and Garcia spent an hour building the case files and compiling all the data they had on Christopher Torsey. Joining the team in the briefing room, where Spencer had already relayed the events to the team. Y/N didn’t need to describe it all 3 times in 2 hours.

She passed all the folders out, trying to avoid the looks the team gave her. They were sorry, they respected her, they wanted revenge for her. She knew it all came from a place of love, however, she hated being perceived by others.

It was a trauma thing. For so long people had the wrong idea about her, she was bullied and put down, and hated for no reason. She hates any form of attention, the glances and staring, the whispers of rumours being told as fact. It was stressful.

“Before we start,” she started softly. “Thank you in advance for your concerns, but I’ve been in therapy for 10 years. I’m very happy, this is gonna fuckin’ suck, but at the end of the day I’m coming home to a man who loves me, a baby on the way, and the best friends I can ask for. He’s going to prison. I win.”

Derek smiled at her, “that’s my girl. What did you find?”

“Christopher Torsey was born in November of 1979. His father was extremely abusive, he was in the ER a lot by the time he was 11. His mother killed herself in front of him when he was 12, he also watched his father rape his mother according to his child therapist,” Garcia started. Not knowing how to say the next part without Y/N crying.

“He uh, he said that his dad would tell his mom to be quiet. That-uh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you say this?”

Y/N stepped in without a second thought. “He said that his father would hold the fact that he loved her over her head to force her into having sex with him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“He’s our guy for sure. Do we have an address?” Prentiss asked.

“Yeah, he lives in a double-wide trailer in Cottonwood. Near the back with his own access to the main road,” Y/N explained. “I knew he moved to Arizona when Jimmy finally kicked him out. I haven’t heard from him in years.”

“Y/N is coming with us, wheels up in 20.”

—

Cottonwood PD waited for them to arrive before apprehending him. They were concerned that he would run, with his access to the woods and a four-wheeler in his possession, it was a matter of boxing him in quietly with a backup plan in place and men on the ground.

“Can I suggest something?” Y/N cut into the Police Chief and Hotch’s conversation.

“Sure.”

“Um, what if I walk up in our civilian clothes, and just pretend that we’re there to rub it in his face that I'm happy and in love,” Y/N suggested. “I can wear a wire, you can be in a surveillance van listening in. You’ll be right there if we see Sally or sense something’s up.”

“Are you sure you can do that?” Hotch asked her.

“I am,” she turned to Spencer, “if you can control your temper you can come. If not, I’ll show up with Derek and still rub it in his face that someone loves me now.”

Spencer sighed deeply as he contemplated it. “I’ll kill him,” he admitted. “Take Derek.”

“Let’s get suited up,” Derek patted Spencer’s shoulder. “I won’t let him hurt her again. Don’t worry.”

“I know.” Spencer looked disappointed.

Everyone left the room, leaving Spencer and Y/N alone. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug resting her face against his chest. He softly held her in return, rubbing his hands along her back with his cheek on her head.

“I love you, forever and always,” She reminded him. “And I know how much you love me, believe me. I wouldn’t have been able to do this if I didn’t truly believe Chris was wrong.”

She pulled back when she felt a tear on her head. She wiped it softly with her thumb as he leaned his cheek into her palm. “I am loveable, and you love me. I win.”

He laughed softly, “I won too.”

She pulled him into a soft kiss, “I’ll be back in your arms soon.”

“I’ll be in the van watching the whole time, I love you so much,” he added for good measure.

She smiled as she walked away, throwing a fist in the air like the end of the breakfast club. Knowing full well he’d never get the reference. JJ on the other hand, laughed as she followed with Spencer.

They changed into regular clothes, getting in a car from the impound lot and following the surveillance van. Morgan was quiet, Y/N knew he wanted to talk to her, to go over the plan, but he didn’t know how to. The wire wouldn’t be on till they walked out, giving Y/N and Derek their privacy if he ever chose to speak.

“Did you ever confront your guy?” Y/N asked.

He nodded, “Carl Buford. I got to show him who I am now, that I put men like him behind bars. That I’ll always win.”

“Is it a good feeling?”

Derek set his hand palm up on the centre console, looking at her softly as if to ask her to take it. She interlocked their fingers, he rubbed his thumb against her skin.

“You’re right, it fucking sucks. The original pain never goes away, but there is a content feeling knowing he won’t get to hurt another person, that he might get his ass kicked in prison,” he smiled that beautiful Derek smile. “I’ll always be here for when you need someone who gets it.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

They pulled into the trailer park slowly, separating from the team as they approached Christopher’s trailer. “Just pretend you’re Spencer, treat me the way he would. I know Spencer tells you everything, go off of memory of what he’s said about me.”

“You know he tells me everything?” Derek asked softly, laughing a little to himself.

“Because he also tells me everything,” she smirked. “When he’s tired and he rambles, he tells me about his whole day and that includes when he asks you for advice.”

“You two are gross,” he smiled. “I hope I can replicate it.”

“Come on,” she laughed, getting out of the car and waiting for Derek at the hood.

She took his hand before walking up to the door, a hand on her belly to make it look bigger. Really wanting to show off that she was in a better place than he was.

She knocked, 3 times, stepping back so he could open the door. She didn’t feel scared, she felt anxious in excitement to watch Derek take him to the floor.

“Y/N?” She heard his voice for the first time in 13 years. “What are you doing here?”

“My therapist suggested that I come here and show you someone actually did end up loving me, regardless of what you said,” she explained.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he panicked, flashing his eyes back and forth between her and Derek.

“I can come in and explain it for you if you’d like?” Y/N smiled. “You’ve got nothing to hide I assume? I’m just wildly obsessed with you and a liar right? That’s what you told everyone so I wouldn’t be able to say you forced my head on your dick with the promise that you loved me.”

“I- I uh,” he stuttered. Starting to shake lightly.

“That’s what you do to all the girls, isn’t it, Chris?” Derek cut in, pulling the screen door open and watching as Christopher ran to the back of the house. “We got a runner!!” He announced to the wire.

Y/N didn’t run after him, she knew the team had him. She walked through the house to watch from the back door. Only to find Spencer stiff-arming him.

Christopher flipped over Spencer’s arm, hitting the ground before Spencer was on top of him. Spencer punched him in the face, once, twice, three times before he stopped. Sitting over the unconscious man as he caught his breath. Everyone just watched him. He rolled Christopher over, cuffed him and walked away into the woods.

Y/N carefully jogged into the yard, passing the bleeding and groaning asshole she used to know as she ran after Spencer. He was walking too fast, and he didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” She yelled at him as if she was his mother. “Stop.”

He stopped abruptly, huffing as he did so. He only turned around to face her when she finally caught up to him. “Don’t touch me yet,” he instructed her.

“Okay,” she stopped a foot in front of him. “Look at me, breathe. In and out.” She used her hands as she motioned a breath in, and a release out. She repeated it 4 times, watching him do the same.

“Can I hug you now?” She asked softly.

He nodded, stepping into her space and wrapping himself around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It was actually really appreciated,” she laughed. “I was debating if having a baby at 22 weeks was worth punching him in the face a few times.”

Spencer laughed softly into her shoulder. Squeezing her in his grasp as he breathed her in. “I love you.”

“I love you, more,” she smiled against his neck before pressing a soft kiss to his ever-beating pulse. “Let’s go see the team, come on.”

Y/N was adamant about searching the trailer with the team. Going to the surveillance van for a vest and gloves while Christopher was taken to the police station, and Spencer had his hand wrapped up.

It still smelled like him in there. The smell of his detergent mixed with smoke from the fireplace. It never changed. She noticed his PlayStation was on, he was still interested in games. He still slept with the brown comforter that was on his bed when she was 12. It was worn down, holes gathered at the bottom as it was almost see-through now.

She opened the closet to see a very large metal safe in its place. She took a deep breath, looking at the keypad to see what numbers had been worn down the most, guessing his password.

0803

It popped open, it made her feel sick to her stomach. As she opened it, she heard the muffled screams behind duck tape. Sally Irvine was tied up, hunched over in a tiny metal box while he played GTA.

She wanted to kill him.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” she shushed the girl. “Sally, my name is Y/N. We’re here to take you home, you're safe now.”

Y/N took the tape off Sally’s mouth softly, the girl sobbed immediately. Not able to say a single thing as Y/N untied her and held Sally in her arms. Sally hugged her back as tight as she could, sobbing into her shirt as Y/N rocked her back and forth. Crying along with her.

“He did it to me when I was 12 too,” Y/N whispered.

Sally pulled back and looked at her with puffy eyes, “really?” She asked. Her voice low and scratchy.

“JJ can you get some water?” She called behind her. “Yes. I was his first.”

“Y/N,” the girl repeated. “That’s what he called me?”

She couldn’t stop the sick feeling in her gut, “let’s get you out of here.” She changed the topic, helping the little girl to her feet and to an ambulance.

Y/N smiled at her as she dropped her off with the EMTs, walking off into the woods as quickly as she could. She leaned over, holding her own hair back as she threw up on the ground.

She swatted away at the hand rubbing her back suddenly, continuing to hurl in the bushes as she heard them behind her, shushing her. She wiped her hand on her mouth before she calmed herself down.

She sighed and turned around to see Morgan. His arms were open for her to hug him, she buried her face in his chest as she cried. Not able to fully process all the information she just heard.

“Let’s get you home,” Derek whispered. Escorting her back to the car, she was done for the day.

chapter 22

Valentine’s day had come and gone by the time they finished their most recent case. Landing in Quantico very late on the 16th of February. Everyone departed the plane slowly, half asleep after the 3-hour flight.

“Did you guys miss any plans?” Y/N asked JJ and Emily as they walked together.

“Yeah,” Emily sighed, “I uh, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Since when?” JJ asked, both her and Y/N suddenly not tired at all. They stopped on the tarmac and stared at her.

“Um, a few months now,” She blushed.

“Was this the sin to win weekend?” Y/N asked softly.

Emily nodded, “what’s sin to win?” JJ asked just as quietly.

“It’s a weekend for gay people in Atlantic City,” Emily replied. “It’s an easy way to mingle in a safe space.”

“Oh,” JJ was shocked. “Oh, so you’re, and you too?” She pointed at both of them as the information was processed.

Y/N and Emily smiled at her and laughed. “Bi? Yes,” Y/N replied.

“I’m still not sure,” Emily added. She sighed deeply, shaking her head as she tried to speak again. “I’ve never really enjoyed male company? It feels more like a performance than a relationship.”

“I mean good for you for noticing that now, if it wasn’t for Spencer I’d be in the same boat,” Y/N smirked at her. “He’s more than just a pretty face.”

“Wow,” JJ was shocked. “I would’ve never known.”

Emily placed her hand on JJ’s back, leading her towards the charter back to headquarters, “oh you poor, poor, heterosexual woman.”

“She has a cat, she cuts her bangs when she’s stressed and she bites her fingernails,” Y/N explained to JJ as they picked their seats. “She likes pussy, JJ.”

Emily smacked her arm lightly, all of them laughing hysterically. The boys walked onto the bus to their cackling, desperately wanting to know what was so funny.

“I was just telling them, I met someone and I’d like for you to all meet her soon,” Emily explained to the rest of the team. “I think you’ll really like her.”

“No way,” Derek smiled, high-fiving her. “Congrats dude, welcome to the dark side.”

“You too?” JJ was shocked. “Okay, put your hand up if you’re a straight person,” she stretched her arm into the air. Hotch and Rossi joined her.

“Really?” Spencer and Y/N looked at each other with excitement.

“What the fuck?” JJ was dumbfounded. “How did I not know this?”

“It just never came up before,” Derek shrugged. “Tell us more about this girlfriend of yours, Prentiss.”

“Or,” Y/N cut in. “you could bring her to Vegas in April.”

“Why?” Emily smirked at her.

“If you’re all free on April 23rd,” She teased them along. “Spencer and I would like you to come to our wedding at my parent’s house.”

“Oh!” JJ and Emily freaked, “holy shit!”

“So, you guys are in?” She laughed.

“Yeah!”

For 2 in the morning, the bus was the most excited they had ever been. And Penelope didn’t even join them on this trip. Normally it was her making this kind of excitement, Y/N basked in the happiness that filled the bus.

They discussed little details on the way to their cars, standing in the garage for a good 15 minutes as they planned the dates they’d need to arrange to have off. Hotch knew he could pull some strings to use everyone’s vacation time for a few days.

They exchanged hugs before breaking apart for the night. Planning to return around noon that same day. Giving them a sweet 9 hours of peace and quiet.

“We still need to invite Penelope,” Spencer whispered when they were halfway home. Interrupting the silence that Y/N was enjoying.

Y/N laughed softly, watching him drive with a smile on his face. “I only told the rest of them because Penelope somehow hacked into my calendar app, to plan a baby shower around my schedule, and saw the plans.”

“Of course,” he nodded along.

“So yeah,” she smiled. “She’s told me that she wants to throw me a baby shower/bachelorette party now.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed, squeezing her thigh where his hand was always glued to her.

“If we even get more time off before the wedding, I’m crossing every appendage on my body in the hopes all the psychos take the day off!” She laughed, twisting her arms and legs in a demonstration.

He laughed, leaning against the wheel as he tried to keep his focus on the road. “I love you.”

“You better!” She teased him.

It went quiet again. She could hear the tires on the sandy slush. The grinding of pressure as the snow compressed into the tire tread. Small rocks being flicked up from the wheels, smacking the underbelly of the car as they approached their house.

She sighed as she saw the place, the beautiful green door illuminated by the porch light. Screaming ‘welcome home!’ As they pulled into the parking spot.

Sleep surprisingly came easier to her the more pregnant she got. She was used to laying on her left side now, she actually preferred it, because it means that every morning when she woke up, the sun came in just perfectly to make Spencer glow.

The alarm on Spencer’s table started to beep letting them know it was 10:30. She softly watched him roll over and smacked the machine before turning back to her and closing his eyes once more.

“No.”

She huffed in a silent laugh, getting closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Time to wake up,” she whispered between kisses spread across his face.

He was trying his best not to smile as she peppered his skin with kisses. Pushing him onto his back so she had more skin to cover. It had been a while since they did anything together.

Between the cases and the baby, and everything Spencer learned about her past trauma. He’s been a little distant, and it was starting to make her worry. Dr. Korrapati promised that this sudden burst of anxiety was normal at this stage of pregnancy. It was what contributed the most to the nesting phase, but it still scared her.

She wanted to kiss him, to run her hand down his chest and palm over his boxers until she couldn’t take it anymore. So she did, just a little more seductively.

She moaned softly as she kissed the patch of skin under his ear and down his neck softly. She dragged her fingers over his skin, looping around his nipple as she sucked on his neck. She lifted her leg lightly over his, trying to get some friction between her legs as she kissed him.

“We should probably just go to work,” Spencer softly interjected.

She sighed, dropping her forehead against his shoulder and letting her shoulders slouch.

“I’m not broken!” She sat straight up as she yelled at him. “Can I please just fuck my boyfriend? I have been horny for Weeks,” she wasn’t sure where the sudden burst of emotion came from.

“Oh,” he sat up too, resting his hand on her back softly. “I didn’t realize you wanted to after everything, and the baby? You’ve had a rough few months.”

She laughed lightly, “Spence, of course I do?”

She looked at him softly, cupping his jaw in her hand. “I’ve had to process my trauma before. Yes, it’s still bothering me, and yes I have new trauma that I need to address with my therapist. But,” she emphasized. “I am a woman with needs, and one of those needs is getting railed before work by Doctor Reid.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure?” Spencer asked again.

She smiled and nodded, pushing him back down against the pillows. She resumed her last position, putting her leg between his so they could grind lightly and make out. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll ask you to stop.”

“Okay,” Spencer looked up at her, brushing her hair behind her ear as she hovered over him. “I love you.”

“Prove it,” she teased him, leaning in and kissing his neck again.

He reached behind her to grab her ass, she had noticed his hands gravitating there more as she gained pregnancy weight. She wasn’t complaining either, the way his hands felt on her skin was glorious.

He was putty in her hands, tilting his head to the side so she could kiss, lick and suck wherever she so pleased. She reached her free hand into his hair while he other kept her steady, in the perfect spot to grind against his boney hip.

He was all gasps and heavy breaths underneath her, she raised her leg lightly dragging it over his hardening erection before putting herself back in place. Just wanting to see how far along he was.

She rolled onto her back then, laying flat, waiting for him. He pushed his underwear to his ankles as he flipped on top of her. She was nothing but giggles as Her Spencer came out to play.

Opening her legs, she greeted him back into her grasp as he hovered over her. Both hands planted against the pillow as he looked down at her. His hair falling into his eyes, she pushed his hair back behind his ears.

“You might need a haircut soon,” she teased him, biting her lip softly.

“Shhh,” he whispered.

She took his right hand from beside her head, gripping him by the wrist and guiding him towards her mouth. Taking his middle and ring finger in, sucking on the digits softly. Making him release a sound she’s never heard before.

She looped her tongue around his fingers, spreading them lightly as she licked a stripe through them. Feeling his skin against her teeth, which only seemed to excite him more.

She pulled off with a pop, he looked mesmerized by the trail of spit that connected her bottom lip to his wet fingers. “Fuck,” he gasped as his breathing hitched.

“You know where to put them,” she whispered up at him, staring into his eyes as she bit her lip.

He kissed her quickly, pulling her forward so he could get the t-shirt she was still wearing off her body, throwing it off the bed as he kissed her neck, sucking a mark into the skin as he pushed his hand into her panties.

“Jesus,” he whispered against her neck as he felt how wet she was. “You weren’t kidding.”

Making her twitch slightly as he used the two fingers that were just in her mouth, to drag up and down on her clit. Rubbing it back and forth between the two knuckles.

“Fuck,” she breathed out as she gripped his hair. Palming his scalp while he kept kissing her neck.

She could feel him grinding against the bed as he kissed her, moaning against the space under her ear as he quickened his finger movements.

“I need you to fuck me, like yesterday,” she panted against his mouth, licking his bottom lip after.

He pulled away from her then, lifting her hips to drag her panties down. Keeping them on one of her ankles as he gripped the base of his cock and sat on his knees.

The sight between her legs was phenomenal. The glow of the sun on the lake through the windows as Spencer stroked himself in front of her.

Suddenly, he took both of her knees in his hands. Pushing them to her chest slightly before flipping her over. Extending her hips as he held her ass up. Kissing each cheek softly before straightening his posture.

“Ready?” He asked, she wasn’t expecting it.

Her face pressed into the pillow as she tried to find the best position to support herself. Pushing her hips back in a silent yes. He understood her body language, lining himself up with her and slowly pushing in.

She pushed back against him as well, moaning as she took all of him. “Finally,” she sighed, wiggling against his hips.

He gripped her hips, pushing her off abruptly before slamming back in. She was shocked, letting out a gasped moan as he fucked into her. Taking the instructions too literally, railing her.

She had never been that loud before in her life. Concerned Rossi would be able to hear them from across the lake, but it didn’t stop her. Only enticing him to keep it up.

She pressed her face into the pillow more as she attempted to reach her clit. She couldn’t, “fuck, Spence?”

“Yeah?” He slowed.

She took his hand off her hip, “can’t reach.” Her breath was erratic as she tried to explain.

“Aw poor bunny,” he teased her, slowing to a grind as his fingers ghosted over her clit. “Can’t get yourself off anymore?”

“Please daddy?” She let it slip, feeling his cock twitch inside of her as she did.

He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder softly. “Tell daddy what you want, use your big girl words.”

She pushed back against him, raising herself from the pillow to look over her shoulder at him. “I was going to say breed me, daddy.” She teased, watching his entire personality change. “But it looks like you already did.”

He licked his lips, pushing his hair out of his face as he shook his head at her. “You’re going to regret that.”

She pressed her face back into the pillow and perched her ass back more, ever the invitation. He ran his hand softly over her asscheek, slapping it before he started to fuck her again, reaching around to rub her clit, like she asked, ever so nicely.

They found their rhythm then, pushing against each other in just the right way. Between her deep breathing and the moans she released, the only other thing she could only hear was the sound of their skin slapping together as Spencer fucked her harder than ever before.

“Fuck, sweet Jesus I love your cock,” she praised him, punching into the pillow as she pushed herself back into him, on all 4’s now.

Using his free hand, he spread his fingers through her hair. Gripping her at the roots and pulling her head back as he slammed into her.

“Yes, daddy,” Y/N panted as she felt herself get closer to the edge. “Right there.”

“Cum for me bunny,” he instructed her, “let me fill your perfect little cunt.”

She came with a shout, pushing back against him as his words pushed her over the edge. Not being able to ever say no to that man, feeling his hips shake as he tried to fuck her through his own orgasm.

He pulled out, flipping her limp body back over so she could lay on her back, releasing the pressure on her stomach. Legs still spread as he observed his handiwork, scooping it up with his fingers and pushing it back inside of her. Making her clench up at the feeling.

“Spence-“

“Too much?” He smirked down at her.

She nodded, catching her breath as he just sat there. Still, on his knees, cock now soft and resting against his leg. She preached herself up on her forearms, shaking her head at him as she bit her lip.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” She asked him.

“I have no idea,” he laughed. “But hypothetically,” he bit his lip and raised his eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind revisiting that on a later date.”

She laughed, dropping back against the sheets. “Me either.”

—

She waddled from the car to the elevator. A mixture of pregnancy and over-extending her hips, exercising with Spencer. Lamaze class more specifically, if anyone asked.

“I should really start calling you ducky,” Spencer whispered in the elevator.

“I hate you,” she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Really?” He teased her, “because if I recall 27 minutes and 15 seconds ago when you were saying ‘fuck, sweet Jesus, I love your cock,’” he whispered into her ear.

The elevator doors opened as her jaw dropped, “notice how I specified which part, Doctor Reid?” She answered abruptly, walking out towards her coworkers.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” He said as he followed her. Making everyone turn around to see them.

“What’s going on?” Morgan noticed it first.

“Nothing,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Just correcting the genius.”

“On?” Prentiss pried.

“Well this morning she said and I quote-“

“I will cut your balls off and hang them from the mirror in my car,” she snapped, glaring at him as she pointed her finger in his direction.

“Mama’s got claws,” Morgan laughed at them. “Damn.”

Spencer wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek in front of everyone. She turned pink, pretending to be pissed while a smile crept onto her face.

“She loves me,” Spencer smiled, pressing their cheeks together.

“One part, it’s nice to me and doesn’t talk back,” she replied, making everyone laugh as Spencer shook his head.

“Okay, you win,” he put his hands up in surrender as he backed away. Opening the door to the bullpen and disappearing behind his desk.

chapter 23

St. Patrick’s Day was never a holiday that Y/N or Spencer really cared for. Yes, they wore green to work, but other than that they didn’t really see the hype. They were Halloween people.

Will and JJ, on the other hand, went all out.

It was something to do with Will’s love for beer and his frat-boy attitude. Explaining to them that morning in the bullpen that the best parties on his college campus were around St. Patrick’s day and Mardi Gras, making February and March party central in his life.

They walked in with little Henry, decked out in green from head to toe. Green beads around his neck, gold chocolate coins in a basket, and the cutest little shamrock light-up head bopper.

“Look at you!!” Y/N called out to Henry as she walked into the room. Opening her arms up and leaning down to pick him up as he ran into her arms.

“Any Y/N!” Henry called her, not being able to say his T’s yet.

She pressed his tiny cheek against her face as she picked him up and snuggled him against her chest. It was getting harder to pick him up now that she was pregnant but she wasn’t going to miss a Henry snuggle.

“Since when did the FBI consult with leprechauns?” She asked him, booping her nose against him.

“Nooo,” Henry leaned back in her arms, “I’m not a leopard-con,” he tried his best to say the word. Making the team all laugh.

“Well, either way, why’s my favourite little guy here today?”

“Hey?” Spencer complained.

She leaned her elbow into him, “hi unca Spence,” Henry smiled at him. Spencer ran his fingers through Henry’s hair, messing it up under the headband.

“He wanted his godparents to see his outfit before the party at daycare today!” JJ explained with excitement.

Y/N placed him back on his feet, “go on the, show it off!”

He walked around the room, doing a fake model strut as he shook his diapered butt, walking towards the stairs before running back. “Woooow!” Everyone clapped and cheered.

Y/N looked up from Henry’s gaze, seeing Emily in Hotch’s office with a blond woman she didn’t recognize, “what’s going on in there?” She pointed.

“They’ve been in there all morning,” Rossi explained. “I think that’s the girlfriend.”

“How so?” Spencer asked, moving across the room to get a better view through the blinds.

“The way Emily leans against her, hand on her arm like that as she speaks. That’s the same way you and lady boy-wonder act when you’re in there together,” Rossi raised an eyebrow at them.

“Ahh,” Y/N smirked. “I wonder what happened, no one talks to Hotch with the door closed unless they need us to look into something.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Will cut in, scooping Henry up from the carpet with a tight-lipped smile.

“Bye buddy,” Y/N scrunched her nose at him, getting in close to press their noses together. “Have a good day today.”

“Bye, love you,” JJ kissed both her boys and watched them leave the room.

“they’re the best,” Y/N said as she wrapped an arm around JJ.

“Anyone want to go sit and have coffee while we wait for them?” Derek asked prior to a long yawn.

Rossi patted Derek on the back, leading him up the stairs and towards the briefing room. The remaining team members following their lead, discovering fresh donuts and flowers waiting for them.

“A gift for helping in advance, -Noelle” Read the small card on the table.

“Emily’s girlfriend?” JJ pondered, holding the card up and waving it slightly.

“I like her already,” Derek said, kicking his feet back and taking a donut.

Hotch walked in with Emily and Mindy 45 minutes later. Following them was a beautiful blond woman, probably 6’1 even in her flat running shoes. She was wearing cuffed blue skinny jeans and a big Barbie Pink petticoat.

She smiled lightly as she walked in, glueing herself to Emily’s side. “This is Noelle, my partner, Noelle these are my co-workers.”

“Hi!” She waved, “let me guess. Chocolate thunder, Derek Morgan.” She pointed to the nearest person to her.

“Correct,” Derek nodded in her direction.

“You would have to be Penelope Garcia,” she guessed right once again. “Emily was right, your aura is very bright.”

“Oh,” Penelope blushed.

“Y/N and Spencer, she said you’d be basically sitting on top of each other,” making everyone on the team laugh. “JJ, she said you’re like wonder woman, you look more like you could be cast as Super Girl if you ask me.”

JJ blushed, “thank you, Henry would agree.”

“Rossi, I already knew you. I love your books,” she fangirled a little. Something Rossi was incredibly used to.

“Signing hours are from 6-8,” he teased her.

Noelle laughed, her smile wide and toothy. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“Noelle has come in today with concerns that local gay men in her circle of friends are going missing. Over the last few holidays, 3 of her friends have disappeared. Dropping all contact after a trip to the bar,” Hotch explained.

“I’m a firefighter,” Noelle explained. “I have a Facebook group of friends who are gay and in the forces in any capacity. Just to let each other know where they’re going, to be safe.”

“Smart system,” Rossi complimented. “But also incredibly easy for someone to pose as trustful to gain access and track them.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Emily’s pressed lip smile portraying just how uncomfortable she was with the situation. “I’ve met our supposed victim number 3. Officer Perry is a great man and we haven’t heard from him since Friday.”

“Where was he going?” Y/N asked.

“He was at the bar with us on Friday for a little, we got a few beers and then he said he was meeting with a guy he met online, he was never big into online dating or even dating in general. He didn’t know how to be an officer and gay at the same time,” Noelle explained the situation fully. “He is one of my best friends, I excused it Saturday when he didn’t call cause I guessed he was having a good time. But when he missed Sunday dinner I knew something was wrong. I begged Emily to let me pitch this to you.”

“I believe you,” Hotch added. “Which is why I’ve asked Mindy Patel from VICAP to join us today.”

Mindy waved, she dressed more like a techie than an agent. Beanie, headphones on her neck and a big black sweater.

“Strauss and I agreed it would be beneficial to have a member of the team solely responsible for going through VICAP coincidences and letting us know. We stumble across too many rare cases thanks to Y/N and Mindy,” Hotch explained. “Mindy Patel is now officially VICAP Liaison. Her office will be across from Garcia’s from now on, she’s going to be our eyes and ears in the missing person world for the time being.”

“I took into account the fact that your friends were all masc for masc, on the police force in some capacity and male obviously,” Mindy explained. “And I found the two men from Valentines Day and New Years, and then more going back every major holiday for the last 2 years as of this St. Patrick’s day.”

“We’ve compiled the data and sent it to Garcia, it’ll be on your tablets shortly,” Hotch confirmed. “I’d like everyone to split up into teams and take an apartment of the most recent 3 victims. Prentiss and Rossi, you get New Years’.”

“Yes sir,” Emily agreed. “Noelle can stay here with Penelope for insight.”

“Yes. Reid, Y/N and Morgan, you’ll take officer Perry’s apartment. It’s the freshest so I need the best eyes.”

“Absolutely,” they replied in unison.

“Myself and JJ are going to the Valentines Day abduction,” check in with Garcia when you need to, fill me in on everything. Good luck.”

—

“Yeah a cop lives here,” Y/N laughed as she searched through the carefully organized home. Combing the place over for the slightest abnormality.

“He definitely wasn’t taken,” Morgan agreed. “He went willingly and never made it home.”

Dust was starting to settle on his possessions. Photos on the wall looked blurry as the sun shined through the windows. It smelled stale, no one had opened the windows in a while and the man who lived here worked out.

His clothing was organized by category. His laundry had 3 separate baskets for darks, lights and colours. Inside his bedside drawers, all his condoms were lined up by type. He was definitely anal about something.

“Guys?” Spencer called from the office.

Morgan and Y/N followed the sound of his voice, seeing him hunched over an iMac. “I moved the mouse and it’s open and unlocked.”

“But you don’t know what to do?” She teased him.

“Yeah,” he blushed. Watching Y/N sit in the desk chair and start looking through his things.

“His Facebook is pretty basic, he checked in at the bar with a photo here of him with Emily and Noelle, and then he went offline. He doesn’t have Twitter or Tumblr logged in, so I’m guessing he doesn’t have that,” Y/N explains as she stalked his activity. “In his history, your male basics. Case research, pornhub, Facebook, Hotmail… hold on.”

She read through all the subjects, all looking pretty normal. “What would a gay man hiding his sex life from his co-workers disguise his emails as?”

“Work-out appointments,” Morgan answered almost too quickly.

‘Workout’ she typed into the search bar. Seeing 15 messages from another man named [email protected]. “got him, call Garcia.”

“Hey baby girl,” Derek spoke softly as she answered. “We got Jensen Perry’s computer open, his email shows he’s been working out with a [email protected].”

“Already working my finger magic,” she teased him. Hanging up before he could say anything back.

“That woman will be the death of me,” he sighed.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything else here, our best bet is with Garcia,” Y/N admitted as she closed all the windows. “Wait,” she pulled up the search and typed in ‘find my iPhone,’ “if he has a Mac he has an iPhone, not many people blend their tech.”

Last ping: 2256 Sheerly Lane, Friday at 23:56.

“I’ll call Hotch while you drive,” Y/N said, pulling out her phone and following the men out the door.

Morgan followed the GPS 15 minutes down the street to an apartment complex. It was worn down and looked as if no one had taken care of it in the last 25 years. “I’m calling Garcia before you go in, I don’t feel good about this.”

“Hey doll,” Garcia’s cheery voice was a nice refresher.

“Hey, do you have any info on who owns and occupies 2256, Sheerly Lane?” Y/N asked softly. “Also send backup to this location, it’s where Perry’s iPhone is apparently and it looks sketchy as hell.”

She heard the clicking of the keys before she heard Garcia’s reply. “Yep, we have 1 occupant. Amy Romano, 46, left the building after her mother died. She’s been living there in room 333 for years, not renting any rooms out at all in the last 3 years.”

“A woman?” Morgan was shocked.

“Must be why we’ve never found the bodies, female serial killers are 90% less likely to ever be caught,” Reid added his fun fact, one she’s heard from him a handful of times before.

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “What do we know about her?”

“She’s an interesting one,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Her father was a minister, big bible freak. Her mother was the maid here at the hotel before being given the deed from the original owner’s family. She died in 1988.”

“How much of the religious upbringing rubbed off on her?”

“Enough to make her have multiple psychotic breaks, being diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was 15,” Garcia gained more insight. “Claimed to have been visited by God, and was told sinners are punished by word of god. That one day she would be the one to follow his word for the righteous man.”

“What if she’s doing her own form of conversion therapy?” Y/N gasped. “She’s not killing them. She’s following god’s word and freeing them from their sins. This is the perfect place to keep them. Locking them in rooms away from each other, secluding them and only subjecting them to a female for long periods of time.”

“Garcia, we need back up right now,” Morgan stressed.

“they’re 4 minutes out, good luck in there my babies.”

“See you soon, baby girl.”

Being left out of raids was weird to her, watching Spencer put on a bullet-proof vest and load his gun without her cover made her anxious. Luckily, she got to stand with JJ outside. Watching the building as they listened over their radiofrequency.

“Clear,” Morgan spoke over the system.

“Clear here as well,” Hotch said. “Meet me at the stairwell.”

“I hate this,” Y/N whispered.

JJ ran her hand along Y/N’s back softly, “me too.”

“Floor 3, room 33,” Hotch explained. “I’ll kick in the door, Morgan, you enter first. Spencer and Prentiss, follow our lead.”

Not having a visual was the worst part. There was no way to know where they were or who was there. They worked on sounds, if and when the team decided to speak.

“1, 2, 3,” Morgan whispered before they heard the door smash in. “FBI!”

Then it was silent again, too quiet for anyone’s liking, staring up at the third floor trying to hear everything in the neighbourhood.

“Amy Romano put the gun down!”

“No!” They heard before 4 shots were fired.

Y/N’s heart was in her throat; she couldn’t hear anything going on inside. The officers asked over the radio for updates, hearing nothing in return. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from running towards the apartment buildings before anyone could catch her. Up 3 flights of stairs, drawing her gun and walking towards the room.

Morgan was shot in the arm, down. Prentiss, hiding behind a table with Morgan and Spencer as she tried to stop the bleeding. Hotch in the unsub’s grasp, fighting for a gun.

Hotch noticed Y/N in the doorway. Kicking the unsub down. Y/N wrapped her arm around the unsub’s neck, putting her in a headlock as Hotch attempted to cuff her. She struggled like a wet fish against them, slipping out of her grasp and falling to the floor.

“If God wants to tell me to stop, he’ll tell me himself!” She screamed.

Y/N presses her gun to her head, “he just did.”

“Amy Romano you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of 24 men, attempted murder of a federal agent and resisting arrest,” Hotch explained as he cuffed her.

“Y/N!” Spencer stood up, looking at her like she was the crazy person. “We agreed, 3rd trimester, no fieldwork.”

“You didn’t reply on the radio and suddenly I was here,” Y/N explained, “I’m sorry.”

“We need EMTs, Morgan’s been shot in the arm. The bleeding is under control, just hurry.” Prentiss ordered over the radio.

“Y/L/N is going to need to get checked as well,” Spencer added.

“Why?”

“You ran up three flights of stairs, wrestled an unsub and got elbowed in the side,” Spencer explained, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

“I’m sorry, I get it now I really do,” Y/N stopped him in the hallway, holding him in her arms. “I don’t like when I can’t see that you’re safe.”

Spencer kissed the top of her head, “I love you.”

“The baby’s kicking,” she replied softly, “that’s good right? 4 movements in 30 minutes after activity is a good thing.”

Spencer laughed, pulling back to feel her belly. “I’m sure he’s all hopped up on adrenaline now, come on let’s get him looked at quickly.”

—

They found 16 of the 24 men alive and in critical condition inside the apartment building. SCSI was canvassing the scene with local cops, taping up the building and surrounding property while the city discussed demolishing the building altogether.

Y/N was able to witness Noelle running into Jensen Perry’s arms, hugging him as they cried in his hospital bed. Y/N could imagine the trauma he was going through, the terror and the fear of something you really don’t want, happening anyway.

“Why do people do terrible things in the name of God?” Y/N whispered towards Spencer, looking up at him with soft eyes. Truly curious.

“The religious system runs similarly to cults, they believe the words are to be followed and thus they will gain entrance to heaven. If there’s one thing humans are afraid of more than dying, it’s internal damnation. Holding the fact that they will suffer in death over their head is a way to get them to do anything.” Spencer explained softly. “With the right person, the wrong message can actually sound like a pretty good thing.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “how do you raise a good child in a fucked up world?”

“Matthew, 18; 1 through 5, At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Spencer repeated the bible verse softly. “Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me.”

Y/N smiled, “I like that.”

“He was always supposed to be good, he has you as his mother.”

chapter 24

April rolled around out of nowhere. Suddenly the snow had all melted, the birds were returning, and the trees were starting to bud thanks to the week of thunderstorms.

Love was in the air, both in the wild and in Y/N’s life.

The wedding’s in 2 weeks and she’s growing daily. She wanted to wait till the last possible moment to get her dress. Wanting it to actually fit over her stomach on the big day without any struggle.

Being placed on office duty for the rest of her pregnancy made it easier, not being allowed to leave Mindy and Penelope's side, under direct order from Aaron Hotchner. She was starting to notice that the more pregnant she got, the more the men of the team wanted to protect her as well.

JJ said it was the same for her the first time, all the alpha personalities came out around the third trimester. It was like they didn’t quite register that a woman on the team was pregnant till it was abundantly clear.

The girls had all agreed to go to the dress store with Y/N when they had a free afternoon, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. Y/N ended up going by herself between cases while Spencer was on a flight, trying on 6 different dresses before she found one that made her happy.

The sales associate was being extra nice to her, knowing she had both a big budget and no time. It was an easy sale, but this wasn’t an easy decision.

She tried a sleeveless, skin-tight number on first. Not being able to even move once she got in it, not even bothering to look in the mirror. It wasn’t right, that was for sure.

Eventually, by #5 they had an idea of what she wanted. Long sleeves to hide her stretch marks, it had to be flowy but still show off the bump. And she wanted lace, embroidery even. Something that made it different, something that was more like her. Always growing, changing, adapting.

She was wandering the racks when she saw it.

It was so long, the train had to be at least 6 feet. It was light, made with sheer fabric so it would twist and flow with whatever direction she ran or danced. She could imagine walking through the grass with the train flowing behind her with purpose.

The most wonderful aspect was the long sleeves and the neckline. Cupping her chest perfectly with a nice ribbon right above her bump. The entire dress reminded her of something, the floral embroidery sending her back to a dress she remembers from her childhood, not able to place it but knowing it in her heart.

She looked in the mirror at herself, she felt beautiful. She shook her head lightly as a tear fell down her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

The sales associate shook a big bell then, causing everyone to look at her and cheer. “Are you saying yes?” She asked, as cheesy as it was, she loved it.

“Yes!” She cheered back, feeling the love from everyone in the store.

The dress was huge, she laid the bag against her passenger seat and stared at it for a while. It felt a little crazy that she was getting married in a few days, even crazier that she was having a baby in 2 months.

Her phone rang as she started to leave. “Hewwo?” She answered softly, knowing it was Spencer.

“I just got home, where are you?”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Penelope said you guys wouldn’t be back until 9, I went and picked out a dress.”

“Alone?” He sounded sad.

“It was better this way, I picked it for me and no one else,” she reassured him. “I’m on my way home now though baby, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, drive safe. I love you,” Spencer replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Love you too,” she hung up.

She sighed, turning on the stereo and driving home to her favourite albums. Driving alone was different for her now, she used to love just escaping into the Virginia wilderness, picking a road and an album and just going somewhere.

Driving with Spencer meant silence, hand-holding, humming and ha-ing as he discovered new facts that intrigued him. She loved it, the ambiance of Doctor Spencer Reid was not something you could replicate, it was special and calming and wonderful.

She couldn’t wait to get home to him.

He was waiting on the front porch as she rolled into the driveway. Joining her at the car, wanting to help her carry her things inside. “Hi,” she smiled at him as she stepped out.

He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek softly. “Want some help?”

“If you don’t mind carrying in my dress, I need to pee so bad!” She said, almost about to run inside when he stopped her.

“Like how bad?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“If you were to get surprised would you pee your pants?” He tried not to laugh as he asked.

“Spence?”

“Just go in,” he said softly.

She sighed, knowing what this meant. Walking up the stairs slowly, turning the doorknob just as slow. Not ready to have her eardrums blown out.

“Surprise!!”

Sure enough, there were balloons and flowers and her friends gathered all inside her front hall. “Oh my god?”

Penelope wrapped her in a hug first, “your first baby shower has to be special!”

“You guys really didn’t have to do this?” She was so shocked to be getting attention that she felt a little embarrassed.

“We wanted to,” JJ hugged her next, their bumps too big to hug normally, opting for more of a side snuggle. “I got you something to change into before we get started.”

Y/N took the small blue bag from her, kicking her shoes off before they went upstairs. Spencer joining with her wedding dress, hanging it in the closet and slipping back downstairs, unnoticed.

Y/N opened the gift bag on her bed, JJ looked around the room for the first time ever. Looking at the photos of their first day of kindergarten on the wall, the artwork they chose. How Spencer wrote notes to her on the mirror with whiteboard markers.

“You guys are really cute,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

Finally taking the dress out of the bag, it was just something simple. Blue with pink flowers. Something she’d definitely pick out on her own. “This is so beautiful!”

“I got it when I was pregnant with Henry and never had a chance to wear it,” She smiled, “thought that you’d like it more.”

Y/N hugged her, “seriously this is the best thing you guys could’ve done for me!”

“I’m also going to need a pink dress,” JJ said softly in her grasp.

“No?” Y/N was shocked. “Really a mini JJ?”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly. “Hurry up we have more surprises for you downstairs!”

—

It took her longer than she hoped to get changed. The baby was just big enough to make her winded all the time now. Having to stop and take a breather just from taking her pants off. Not to mention the struggle of standing up after peeing.

When she finally made it back down the stairs on her swollen feet, she heard a familiar giggle that she loved very much. “You didn’t?”

JJ smiled, “it was Rossi and Will, they flew them all in and got them here.”

Her parents, brothers and wives were all in the kitchen waiting for her. Then she saw Diana, who was pressed up close to Spencer having a conversation in their own little world.

She walked in and cried, hugging her parents for the first time in 5 months. Showing off her big baby bump and chunky face for the first time too.

“You look amazing!” Her mom complimented her, taking her hand and making her spin slowly.

“Thank you, I feel huge,” she smiled. “I can’t believe you guys are here, I’m literally coming home in 2 weeks!”

“When David Rossi calls you and says he has a jet picking us up, you don’t just say no,” her father laughed, wrapping his arm around Rossi. They were going to be something else together.

She gave Diana a big hug when she could, watching her rub her belly and talk to the baby through her stomach for a good 10 minutes. It was so cute, everyone in the room watched and swooned. Secretly always hoping Spencer’s family got a moment like this.

After dealing with the Riley Jenkins case, and Gideon leaving, they worried for him. They never expected him to just show up one day with a girl and start the rest of his life the way he did. But it just made sense. He sped through school and early adulthood well before Y/N, now they’re moving fast, just together.

They had pizza for dinner, spreading 6 different kinds across the counter and telling everyone to dig in. Y/N took a slice and walked around, mingling with everyone to ensure she thanked them for coming.

“Henry!” She finally found him with Chloe and Lizzie. He ran into her arms, giving her a big hug. “Did you meet my niece?”

“You’re my any?” He questioned her right back.

“Come here Clo,” she called her over, huddling them both in close to her. “You both get to call me aunty Y/N, isn’t that so cool? You’re new friends and you share an aunty!”

Chloe gave her a big hug, she was getting bigger and bigger every day, about to turn 4 in a few months. It felt a little crazy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How are you?” She asked her softly.

“I’m good,” she whispered at her, smiling before hiding her face in her dress.

“Are you having fun here? Did you meet buddy yet?”

“No!” Chloe’s face lit up.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gasped at them both, getting back up to her feet and walking with them to where Buddy hid in the laundry room.

He was curled into a ball in a basket of towels, peaceful in the quietest room in the house.

Chloe and Henry took turns petting Buddy, kissing his head and playing with his tail, it was good for him to get a little used to grabby kid's hands. She was a little worried about how he’d handle a baby, but he was a chill cat he never really cared about attention as long as he was fed.

Eventually, JJ and Lizzie found them, peeling them away from the cat with the promise of cake while Y/N opened her gifts from everyone.

Everyone was watching her as she sat down in the living room, feeling a little anxious like she had to perform for them or something. Spencer finally joined her on the couch then, wrapping his arm around her in a soothing motion.

“So,” Garcia started. “I took it upon myself to organize the party but I didn’t just stop there, I also emailed everyone a link to a chart where they could pick the category of gift they got you so that we avoided repeats and got everything you would need.”

“This is all so much,” she turned bright pink. “You guys really didn’t have to I feel like I haven’t bought anything for myself since I met Spencer.”

“Nonsense!” Penelope hushed her. “Here, pick whatever one grabs your fancy.”

Y/N’s eyes raked over the pile of gifts, “um that big one over there, why not.”

It was a big blue bag, stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. The card on the handle was signed, she opened it to find 'from; Erin Strauss' on it. “Oh?”

“She couldn’t come but she passed that along on behalf of the section,” Hotch explained.

Y/N didn’t waste any time opening it. Finding brand named everything that she would need for breastfeeding, losing her mind at the never-ending bag.

Almost every gift was the same, all themed and absolutely filled. She was never going to have to buy anything for Matthew, she got it all today.

Hotch and Haley got her a babies bath essentials set. Her parents equipped her with every form of linen she would ever need for a baby, as well as a quilt made just for Matthew.

Penelope bought easily $400 in clothes for him over the past 7 months, with the promise of not stopping any time soon. Derek and Emily got together to buy them an all-terrain stroller, for the walks they expect them to take down the back roads. Emily’s girlfriend even brought a mom after-care set for her.

Diana’s gift made her cry the most, opening the box to find old copies of childhood books. “Those were all Spencers when he was a child,” she explained softly. “His love for the world started with those stories, I would like for Matthew to know them too.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N wiped the tears off her face, leaning over to hug her. “If Matty ends up being even half as wonderful as Spencer I’ll be grateful.”

“Spencer, did you get her anything?” Diana asked him softly as she was still mid embrace with Y/N.

“It’s in the garage,” Spencer smiled.

She looked at him with excitement, “you didn’t!”

“I might have,” he smiled.

“What?” Rossi asked, hating suspense more than anyone on the team.

“I was joking about wanting to get an SUV and become a soccer mom,” Y/N’s whole face lit up. “Did you get me a soccer mom mobile?”

He smiled back at her, “here.”

She held the key in her hand, her car was old as hell. She has had it since she moved to Virginia and even then it was a 2004 model. She had never had a new car, with the fresh car smell and clean everything!

“I am so overwhelmed,” she announced, bouncing a little in her seat as she shook her hands. Stimming just a small amount in front of everyone in all the excitement.

“We’re all done celebrating you now, I think we can start getting out of your hair, right guys?” JJ stood and pressured everyone that wasn’t relying on their house for the night, out the door.

Penelope helped Debbie and Diana clean everything up around the house. Peeling Henry and Chloe away from each other was the most difficult part of the night, becoming fast friends and wanting to look at books all night together in uncle Spencers library.

Rossi offered to let her brother Levi and his wife stay at his place while Diana and Y/N’s parents took the guest room in her home. Harrison and Faith driving back to Fort Meade to their own house.

—

Y/N and Spencer sat up in their bed, leaning against the headboard as they listened to the quiet of their house. Their co-workers were gone, their parents were settled in the guest rooms and most likely still awake from the time difference. The day had been so crazy that she barely had time to wrap her head around it.

“So…” Y/N cut the awkward silence. “Wanna make out?”

He laughed at her, shaking his head. “Remember the last time you asked me to do that?”

“Yeah, I lost my virginity,” she whispered back at him. A little scared that everyone could hear them talking.

“We can't,” Spencer looked at her with wide eyes. “It's bad enough my mother knows I’ve had sex once let alone possibly hearing us.”

He nudged him a little, crawling into his lap and sitting there softly. Her belly pressed against him, filling the space between them as she held his face in her hands.

“They’re on the other side of the house,” she pouted. “Just make out with me?”

He kissed her quickly once, “why are you so needy tonight?”

“All day I’ve had everyone's attention but yours,” she explained softly. “I missed you and I want my Spencer time.”

He couldn’t say no to that, because he felt the exact same way. He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips and finally resting them on her back. She ran her thumbs over Spencer's cheeks, looking at him softly as she tilted her head to really admire him.

His lips were perfect, his nose was adorable. The way his stubble grew in and darkened his jaw was amazing. His bone structure, his eye colour, the way his hair just fell flawlessly into place with 0 effort. She sighed as she looked at him.

“I love you,” she whispered, biting back a smile as she waited for his response.

“I love you,” he giggled as he looked right back at her. It almost felt more intimate than sex, just staring into each other's eyes in a dimly lit bedroom, in the middle of the night.

She ran her hands up into his hair, combing her fingers through it. He tilted his head back every time, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. She was about to smile when she got a sharp shooting pain in her hips.

“Oh, my, god,” she breathed out. “Ouch?” She scrunched her face with the pain as the sharpness dulled into the bone, just feeling uncomfortable as she tensed up in his lap. She didn’t even realize she was tugging on his hair in response to the pain.

“What?” Spencer asked, concerned as all hell.

“I think that was Braxton hicks? It was like everything down there just lit up in pain,” she explained with a horrified look on her face.

He ran his hands softly over her hips, soothing the skin in an attempt to help. “Are they bad?”

“It just feels like a pinched nerve at first and then a dull ache, it’s not the worst. I don’t enjoy it that's for sure,” she laughed a little louder. “God, I hope he’s kind to me on the way out.”

“I was doing research into the best drugs and techniques for birth for mothers that don’t want any drugs either because they’re sober or they don’t want to be removed from the moment,” Spencer explained softly. “There are a lot of options if you want to look into them with me this week?”

“Of course you did,” she smiled at him once again, feeling a bit better. “We also have to pack the baby’s go-bag.”

Spencer laughed at the way she phrased it. “Isn’t it just a hospital bag and a diaper bag?”

“No, it’s a mission to have a baby. It’s a go-bag.”

They kept giggling with each other over the dumbest things, staring at smiling as they laughed. Spencer’s hands roamed her back while she poked his face. Happily just talking in each other's space about the most random shit.

It was what she loved the most about him, that they could equally ramble about what they found interesting and the other felt just as excited about learning something new. They had mutual respect for each other's interests and feelings that ran deeper than most, truly loving every word that left their partner's mouth.

By the time they settled against the pillows and attempted to sleep it was half 1 in the morning. They turned all the lights out and still just stared at each other.

She booped his nose softly with her own, watching him scrunch his face as a result before giggling again.

“Do you have any idea what the case tomorrow will be?” She was only asking because she wanted more time with him, needing to find every topic to bring up so that the night never ended.

“Mindy’s pitching something to us tomorrow again,” he whispered. “You’ll be good at this one.”

“Oh I’m excited now okay, goodnight,” she closed her eyes and pretended to snore, making him snuggle in and wrap her arms around him, pulling her in close the way they liked it.

“I love you, bunny,” he said one last time for the night.

She sighed as she settled into him, “I love you more Spence.”

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

93 notes · View notes

daydreamingatnight209 · 3 years

Text

Okay so this was a passion project that I really wanted to write, I probably won’t do another and I still don’t feel comfortable writing smut for other people so please do not request it!

Minors please do not read or engage with this post as it is for 18+ only!

Also a big thank you to @erin-bo-berin for helping and encouraging me to continue this project!

Feedback is always welcome! ✨💕

“Alpha-Male Bullshit”

Part 1

Azriel x Female Reader - Part 1

Fandom - ACOTAR

Warnings - Violence, sexual themes, 18+ only, minor spoilers for ACOSF, angst and fluff! 💞☁️

———————————————————————

Lucien Vanserra was a terrible flirt; not because he wasn’t good at it, but because he was constantly flirting with me.

In the beginning I went along with it; I was bored and felt lonely. Cassian had Nesta, everyone knew Rhys had Feyre and Nyx their sweet baby boy, Elain kept busy with her garden and I barely saw our spymaster.

I split my time between training and reading in my chambers.

So, what harm could a bit of flirty banter do between friends?

I didn’t think it would do anything, but Lucien is certainly consistent.

I had a rare free day and found myself in a quiet corner of the library ran by the High Priestess ,Clotho.

It was one of my favourite places to be. The noise in my head stopped, all the pressure and responsibility’s for the court just faded away. I am transported to a land far away.

I was halfway through a steamy romance that Nesta had given me a couple of days ago. We stayed up most nights talking about books and how Cassian had made it his mission to try each technique in the book for Nesta’s pleasure. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what he was doing, Nesta made that very clear but it was certainly good fun. It made me laugh but it also flushed my body with an incredible sadness. These books were about as close of a love life that I had.

I was lost in my head and the fictional visions that I created with the words on the page when I heard a familiar voice. It made me jump slightly and I heard his deep laugh.

“I knew Nesta loved smut, but I didn’t think your innocent little mind liked it...but then again, I’m sure that pretty little mouth isn’t all that innocent is it?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and turn to face him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, my dear”

I smirk and snap my book back open.

“Are you hoping to live out some of those scenes in those books of Nesta’s like she now is?”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. A moment passed and I feel his breath on my neck.

“If so, you know where to find me.” He whispers in my ear, before pressing a nimble kiss on my neck and spinning on his heel to walk away.

I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding and groaned in frustration.

Placing my bookmark back in between the pages, I rose from the chair and left the comforting walls of the library, waving goodbye to the passing priestesses.

I wander aimlessly around the property, taking in the cool atmosphere. The training ring was empty, or so I thought. As I approached it, I spotted a familiar stature. His shadows swirling around his figure as he went through his training exercises.

I sat on the rocks beside the ring as he comes to a stand-still.

“Are you okay Y/N?” He asks softly.

I smile and rub my eyes.

“Yes, I’m just hiding from Lucien. He’s definitely spending way too much time with Rhys and Cassian. He sounds exactly like them.

But , maybe flirting with him could be fun. No one else pays much attention around here to me anyway”

Wherever Azriel goes in his head, my remark seemed to snap him away from his flyaway thoughts.

His eyes blazed and he took a warrior stance. He chest puffed and looked ready to fly at a moments notice.

“Do you need me to have a word with him?”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his overprotective response.

“No Az, it’s okay. I don’t think he fancies losing his other eye. Thank you anyway”

He just nods and returns back to his exercises.

I take this as my cue to leave.

————————————

Nesta finds me in my room later that evening and informs me that Rhys has planned a family dinner and I am required to attend.

She then prances off to her own chambers.

I rummage through my closet and pick out a gown that had fallen down the back.

It was a deep blue, that sparkled in the correct light. It plunged, exposing more of my breasts than usual and the slit started just passed my thigh, with the material of the dress hugging my body tightly.

Mor had gifted it to me last winter solstice but I hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet. No time like the present, I suppose.

I didn’t have time to style my hair dramatically, so I let my long light brown curls fall loosely down my back.

I fiddled around to find a matching bag and heels before slowly descending down the glass staircase.

All eyes were on me as I entered the dining room. The room was eerily silent.

Panic slowly begins to envelope me.

“It’s not too much is it?” I squeak.

Lucien stands and almost knocks down his chair.

“Absolutely not! My god Y/N I thought the wine would be what loosened my tongue tonight, but it looks like that dress is what’s gonna do it instead.

Unbeknown to me, Azriel’s shadows swamped around, doing their best to keep my modesty protected from Lucien’s lewd comments.

“All bark, no bite Lucien. What a shame” I shoot back and take my place beside Elain.

Azriel was seated across from Elain and did his best to contain his rage against Lucien.

I noticed this sudden shift of tension in the room between the two males but decided that now was not the time to bring it up. Especially not in front of the family.

Elain however didn’t seem to have this incentive and piped up.

“Are you okay, Az?” She asks sweetly. She attempts to take his hand. Azriel lets her hold his hand for a millisecond, before quickly pulling away.

I knew he was insecure about his hands and how they have seen years of battle, yet that wasn’t what bothered me most.

What bothered me most, was hearing my nickname for Azriel fall out of Elain’s mouth so casually.

It wasn’t that I disliked Elain, in fact I was happy for her. She is happy and healthy, was quick to adapt to the ways of Fae and everyone in the court had watched her confidence grow tremendously.

Yes, I was happy for her. Yet every time I caught her talking with Azriel, a wave of jealousy would come over me.

Elain didn’t want Lucien and Azriel didn’t want me, not in that way at least.

Everyone was on their way to a happy ending... everyone but me.

I let out a small cough and continue with the evening. Lucien kept up with his filthy ways and I kept up my responses. Cassian laughed with Rhys and Feyre discussed baby clothes with Nesta.

It felt as time had stopped, as I drunk in moment.

Eventually everyone slid off one by one. Amren and Varian first and soon the rest followed.

Mor invited me to her room so that we could spend some time together. I respectfully declined, desperate to climb into my bed.

——————————

Azriel couldn’t sleep. He stood on the balcony and stared into the distance. It was a clear night, the stars shined brightly above him.

As trained as Azriel was, he was still no match for his High Lord’s stealth.

Not that he would admit it to anymore, but his heart missed a beat when he suddenly heard Rhysand’s voice boom behind him.

“Okay Az, what the hell is going on around here? Seriously I have Elain basically drooling over you, Lucien Vanserra flirting with y/n and she’s flirting BACK, and you’re strung tighter than an Illyrian bow”

Azriel wasn’t ready to admit the truth but if he didn’t soon then he had no idea how the hell he would cope, especially after seeing you at dinner earlier. It took all of his strength to remain seated and not knock Lucien from his seat. His cock had strained against his pants so much that it had become painful. He felt Ferrell and you didn’t have a clue.

So Azriel turned around, folded his wings, and stood straight.

“Y/N is my mate”

It took Rhysand a moment to adjust to what he had just heard.

He clapped his brother on the shoulder and cheered, but his celebration was short lived when he saw the sour look on Azriel’s face.

“Okay ... so why do look like you’ve just been slapped in the face with a fish?”

“Because she’s absolutely oblivious! You’ve seen it yourself, the way she is around Lucien. Just because his mate doesn’t want him doesn’t mean he is entitled to mine!” Azriel explodes and doesn’t give Rhys a chance to respond before he launches himself into the night sky.

He spends the night flying around the city before returning at early dawn.

He is surprised to find Y/N stood outside his bedroom door.

She spins around before he could call her name.

You flash a smile that could bring him to his knees.

“I felt your shadows behind me.” You giggle.

“Anyway, I am only here to tell you that Rhys and Feyre are heading down to the cabin for the night. I said we would look after baby Nyx. Is that okay?”

Azriel tried to focus on what you were saying and not your scent. He just nods in response and as you hop towards him. You fling your arms around him and hug.

Azriel just prayed to the saints that you couldn’t feel his member begging to be released beneath his trousers.

————————————————

Nyx was certainly a handful, he was growing quickly and wanted to explore the world. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to crawl which meant keeping him away from pretty much everything in the house. I was just glad he hadn’t learnt how to use his wings yet.

Eventually he powered down and settled in my lap, he was fed, clean and happy. Meanwhile I learnt that I definitely wasn’t ready for children yet.

“How is he?” Azriel yawned as Nyx’s eyes slowly dropped shut, his thumb in his mouth.

I cradled the small boy in my arms as Azriel sat beside me.

“I will go put him to bed in a moment, he just looks so peaceful” I whispered.

Az just laughed.

“You weren’t saying that before when he was destroying the place”

I roll my eyes and gently lift my body up from the sofa before walking to the nursery.

When I entered the living quarters again, I found Az with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Want one?” He asks.

I shrug. “Sure, why not”

We sat in a comfortable silence before I was brave enough to speak up.

“So, are you going to tell me why you have been so uptight lately? Is it work?”

Azriel’s comfortable posture, stiffens and he is back on high alert.

Seeing this, I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

I shouldn’t force him to talk, it’s not like he’d want to open up to me anyway.

I decide to change the subject.

“Is it true that the bigger a wingspan, the bigger the dick?”

I watch as Azriel splutters and does his best not to leak his drink over the cream coloured carpet.

“I erm... what?!”

I laugh at the reaction and start to inch closer to him.

I’m high on liquid courage, no way would I ever do this sober.

“Feyre told me that fae wings are super sensitive”

I wrap my legs over each side and place myself down on his lap. He grips me in place and grunts slightly but doesn’t say anything.

I delicately run two fingers down his right wing, they are soft, almost like velvet, yet they shine when the light is right.

“Nesta even said that some men cum from a single touch... if in the right place” I whisper in his ear, placing small light kisses down his neck as my fingers continue to dance over every individual feather. His hips buck upwards involuntarily, and I smirk.

“Well it was something like that anyways”

I remove myself from his lap to drink from my wine glass. Azriel sat grinding his teeth, showing incredible restraint.

I head over to the kitchen and place the empty dishes and glasses in the sink, staying in just the right places so Az still got a full view.

He suddenly springs up from his own seat and follows me into the kitchen. He corners me and I try to remain stoic.

He picks me up like I weigh nothing and rests his body in between my legs.

He uses one hand to brush my hair out of my face and the other to casually trace patterns on my thigh.

His voice was low, and his shadows danced behind him.

“Rumour has it, the bigger the wingspan the bigger dick, right? Well Rhys likes to claim he has the biggest but one drunken night we measured... I’m forbidden to tell anyone this but… I won” he winks and suddenly pulls away acting so very nonchalant.

“The wing thing, I personally don’t know because apparently I haven’t had the right bed mate for that”

There was no stopping me after that. I hook my feet around his knees and use all my strength to pull his body back to mine.

Our faces crash together as we kiss and our tongues battle for dominance. My hands roam his body as I slip them under his shirt. His hands copy my actions and I couldn’t help but groan into him as he gets familiar.

Eventually we pull away for air and our eyes lock for what felt like forever and a day. This unfamiliar feeling of euphoria rushed over my body, attacking my senses. It attacked every inch of me. It felt as if my soul would burst open for the world to see.

The sudden panic that came straight after snapped me back into reality. I broke away from the male in front of me as I gasped for air. Silent tears ran down my face.

I pushed Azriel away with force and ran from the room.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry I can’t-“

I ran to my room and collapsed down the back of the door.

What was happening?

———————————————————

PART 2 is on its way!!

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

the hippogriffs and the flobberworms

Day 23, Post #2 by @accio-broom

Title: the hippogriffs and the flobberworms Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Arthur & Ron Weasley (platonic) Prompt: slice of life Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Mentions of sex lives and STDs, very cringe-worthy.

Arthur whistles as he roams the ground floor of the Burrow, searching for his youngest son. Ron’s best friend Hermione is due to arrive any day, ready to spend the latter part of the summer holiday with the Weasleys, but there are some things Arthur needs to speak to Ronald about before Miss Granger joins them.

He’s probably left this conversation a little late—Ron turned fourteen a few months ago—but this is the first time the youngest has shown any interest in the opposite sex. With the rather exciting activities coming up for their fourth school year, including a ball, it’s only inevitable that different feelings will start to stir.

Chuckling, Arthur reminisces about the conversations with his other sons. Bill, always cool as a frost salamander, kept his focus on his old Dad without any outward discomfort, even though Arthur made a complete mess as he told Bill about the facts of life. All of Arthur’s words came out in a massive jumble—he couldn’t even use the correct terms for various body parts and used all the wrong euphemisms. Arthur had been trying so hard to be a cool dad that he got himself far too worked up to make any sense.

His second son, Charlie, was dismissive and didn’t seem interested in the mechanics of making love, which was disappointing given the amount of time Arthur had spent rehearsing, determined to get it right that time. Percy approached the conversation with logic and appropriate questions, discussing it as he would an important Ministry policy before thanking his dad then leaving the room without a backwards glance. In stark contrast, the twins cracked inappropriate jokes and turned the tables on Arthur, making him feel awkward as innuendo after innuendo spewed from their mouths.

Ron will be Arthur’s last chance to do “the talk”. Molly is responsible for dealing with Ginny, and they’ve probably already started. He doesn’t baulk at the female aspect of puberty, having lived with a woman for almost twenty-five years, he’s well versed in the potions and muggle contraptions they need to use, but he thought it only fair that Molly gets a go of this, too. It’s one of the essential parts of being a parent, after all.

Although Arthur is well-seasoned in explaining the facts of life without going overboard with the detail or using cringe-worthy phrases now (although the twins did teach him a few new idioms), he has decided to step away from the ‘cool’ dad persona and go full-on over the top this time.

He could make this easy for Ron, but why would Arthur want to spoil his own fun?

A flash of red hair leaving the broom shed catches his attention out of the kitchen window, and Arthur’s grin widens. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, but there is a light breeze, keeping the air fresh and cool. It’s the sort of day that would lead to him fishing in the lake at the bottom of the garden, but he has a task at hand that he needs to deal with first.

Maybe there’ll be time for him to get his rod out later.

Pouring two glasses of lemonade from the jug Molly has left on the side, Arthur uses a cooling charm on them then steps out from the backdoor and onto the patio.

“Ron,” he calls, smiling as his son turns his head around faster than a niffler chasing gold, looking like Arthur has caught Ron doing something that he shouldn’t. Probably skiving from the long list of chores Molly gave him this morning. “Come up and have a chat with your old Dad.”

Arthur eases himself into the bench under the wisteria with a groan. Although he isn’t all that old, having seven children and living through a war takes its toll on a guy’s body. Now, every joint clicks and complains every time he moves. Forget getting somewhere in a hurry; slow and steady is now the way to go.

Ron settles in the seat next to him.

“What’s up, Dad?” he asks, smiling at Arthur. He takes the offered drink, gulping almost half of it in one go before letting out a loud, satisfied sigh.

“Hermione is coming to stay with us before we go to the World Cup, I hear? But not Harry?”

Ears turning pink, Ron turns his head to look out at the garden. “Y-yeah. We’re going to collect Harry in a few days, remember?”

“Oh, yes. I’m very excited to be visiting the Muggles. Will they tell me about eckeltricity? Should I take my battery collection?”

Ron laughs. “I don’t think the Dursleys will be too impressed with batteries, Dad. They use them every day.”

“Shame.” Arthur sighs, then turns his eyes to gaze the same way as Ron’s. “So, Hermione is a girl.”

“Er, yes, I guess so.”

“A girl you’re attracted to?” Arthur glances at Ron, whose face has turned as white as a ghost.

Ron reacts with a knee-jerk response, but the look on his face indicates that he’s not telling the whole truth. “No!”

“Are you sure? You and her have gotten close lately. Mum and I like her.” Arthur waits a moment for Ron to take back his first response, then tuts when he stays quiet. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone you do like soon. Anyway, as you already know, she’ll be staying in Ginny’s room with your sister, and I’m sure you’re clear on the rules of the house. Your Mum does not want any sneaking around or late-night visits.”

Arthur doesn’t hold the same views as his wife. Sure, he doesn’t want the kids to be sleeping in each other’s beds, but he remembers the conversations he and his friends had during the early hours of the morning when he was their age. If the children wanted to get up to something, Arthur would rather it happen under their roof where they’re safe than have them take unnecessary risks. He and Molly were young once, too, although it feels like a lifetime ago now.

“I know, Dad.”

“Good. And so you know, if you ever find yourself feeling conflicted or wanting some advice on how to ask a lady out, you can always come to me. Because being a teenage lad is a very confusing time, and the magic will heighten this, as well as the fact that you live in proximity to some charming young women. You might not feel it right now, but you’re on the precipice of being a man. Your voice has started breaking. Sure, it’s a little later than the others, but I’m sure that’s nothing to worry about. Everyone develops at their own pace, after all. Pretty soon, you’ll have hairs sprouting all over the place, even in places you wouldn’t expect it. I can’t remember when all of this started happening for me, but it was around your age. And don’t get me started on the wet dreams…”

“Merlin,” Ron sighs, now squirming in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. When Arthur checks again, his youngest is looking into the depths of his glass as if considering whether he could drown himself in there.

“Sex is healthy, son, especially if it’s with someone that you admire and love, whether that be a girl or a boy, Your mum and I don’t mind as long as you’re happy. And if you find the right person, then it can be amazing.”

A low groan emits from Ron’s mouth as he pushes himself further down the bench, attempting to put some distance between him and Arthur.

“Please stop talking,” he pleads with bright red cheeks.

“Having a good sex life is nothing to be ashamed of, let me tell you. The seven of you weren’t delivered by the hippogriffs, after all. Not that we only have sex to procreate. Having you kids out of the house has done wonders for our love life.

“While we’re on the subject, if you can’t get a partner, then there’s nothing wrong with taking matters into your own hand. Masturbation is very beneficial, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s important to explore your own body and learn the kind of things you like so that you can recreate those moments with a partner. I can tell you some useful charms if you need them—ones for when you’re with someone, and others for when you’re alone. Of course, there are some spells that are vital for you to learn. Safety is sexy, and you don’t want any little accidents happening.”

Ron runs his hand over his face as if trying to erase his dismay. “Dad. Please stop. I know all of this already. Not that I wa-I mean, do that sort of stuff.”

He crosses his legs with a gulp, and Arthur feels a rush of joy. He’s succeeded in making his youngest son feel as awkward as possible. You have to take delight in the smallest of moments, especially the older you get.

“Who told you?”

“I have five brothers and live in a dorm with four other boys. Also, Flitwick taught us the contraceptive charm last year.” Ron is still focused on his glass, looking like he wants to be a million miles away.

“Oh, right. ”

An irrational surge of disappointment crashes over Arthur. He should have realised that kids are far more advanced and talk much more than they did in his day. He should have bit the bludger earlier and nabbed him last summer.

“Well,” Arthur continues anyway, determined to see this through, “contraceptive charms aren’t the only things you need to learn. You need to ensure you protect yourself from Sexually Transmitted Diseases, or STDs, as well. Some of these can make you a little itchy, but others can be dangerous. You should go and see Madam Pomfrey if you think you might have one. Of course, you could always get some muggle con-domes. Fantastic little invention they are. Rather than trying to remember a load of different spells while you’re in the heat of passion, you can whack on a rubber and get to it.”

He doesn’t allow Ron’s small squeak to put him off his speech, now he’s in full flow again. “Talking about getting to it. Consent is important. When you decide to take that step, or even before when you snog someone, you need to make sure they want to do it too. Every step of the way. If they say no, you stop right away, even if they said yes only a minute previously. You must understand that. Never force yourself on someone, especially if they are drunk or otherwise intoxicated. If they can’t say yes, it’s a no-go. Got it?”

“I-I d-do,” Ron stutters, his voice strained under the embarrassment of the situation. “C-Can I go now?”

“Yes, yes, of course. But don’t forget that I’m here if you need anything, son. Even if you think it might get you into trouble. And look after Hermione, even if your feelings for her are only platonic. I admire the way you, her and Harry have formed a little group. The three of you are good for each other.”

Arthur reclines on the bench and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh as the sun warms his face. There’s no point getting one’s wand in a knot over spilt potion. He still managed to get Ron squirming like a flobberworm, so it was mostly a successful mission.

The bench shifts as Ron rises to his feet. He finishes his drink with a gulp and sets the glass down on the floor before shuffling away.

“Dad?” a small voice asks.

When Arthur opens his eyes, he spots Ron towering over him. When did he get so lanky? Ron is going to be the tallest of the family, for sure. There’s a smile on his face, though he still can’t meet his Dad’s gaze.

“Yeah, Son?” Arthur asks, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Thanks for trying.”

Ron shrugs, then wanders back down the garden, his gangly frame hunched over. Arthur marvels at Ron’s response. You think you fully understand your children, and then they do something that knocks you off your broom. But Ron is a decent lad, and Arthur knows he will go far, like the rest of them.

With a happy sigh, he leans back and closes his eyes again. He’s done an okay job at this parenting thing. As long as none of them gets arrested or tries to break into Gringotts, he can die a happy man.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #submission #arthur weasley #ron weasley

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thechangeling · 3 years

Text

Tell me a story

Ty doesn't believe in fate.

A shout out to @ilikebooks8 for convincing me to make a fanfic about autistic!Eleanor Blackthorn. Autism is genetic so it makes sense for Ty to have autistic ancestors. If you are autistic I guarentee you have someone in your family who is also autistic they just haven't been diagnosed yet. For me, I've got my dad.

Cw: mentions of ableism, abuse and the death of a minor character. Very anti Andrew Blackthorn.

"Tell me a story," Tiberius' asked, in that mature, matter- of-fact way he spoke. Ty was only eight but already he sounded like a boy twice his age in terms of his vocabulary and the way he spoke.

Although he still had the voice of a child which was rather amusing. Eleanor turned to face her son with a groan as she felt searing pain shoot through her bones. She had been laying down all day due to feeling extremely unwell. The noises and lights of the outside world were especially brutal, but she had gotten used to it overtime. She had learned to cope. To smile and nod and make eye contact. To control her movements and still her hands and laugh at their jokes.

Eleanor played the part of the proper shadowhunter and the dutiful wife, the attentive mother. It didn't matter that it had changed her. Had completely turned her into a different person, someone harsher and colder. Someone who was so quick to anger and venomous hatred.

Someone who only knew how to be in pain.

She always tried to not let that side of her show to her children. They didn't deserve it. But the past few weeks in particular had been brutal. Her body felt broken and it was becoming harder and harder to put up that facade.

She faced Ty with the best fake smile she could muster. "Which story would you like to hear?" He climbed up on the bed beside her and sat down in an odd twisted position where his legs were in a W position. He began tapping his hands on his knees as he appeared to contemplate his choices.

Eleanor could remember a time when she was younger when she used to do that. Before her parents had stopped her. She knew she should really tell Tiberius off to discourage him from doing these things in public. He was so blatent and open in a way that frightened and almost angered her. There was no telling what kind of reaction The Clave might have.

She didnt want him to end up with the dregs, or worse.

"I don't know," Ty said finally scrunching up his eyebrows. "I can't think of one right now. Could you make one up?" Eleanor smiled in spite of herself. She had always loved making up stories ever since she was a kid. She had always been a creative person, painting and drawing as often as she could. Shadowhunters didn't really appreciate a creative streak.

Eleanor nodded. "Ok sure, let's see." She took a breath, trying to ignore the agony spreading through her back and shoulders. "Once upon a time there was a prince who was trapped in a tower that was guarded by an evil ogar. The prince had been rumored to have special powers so he was forced by his parents to stay locked away in the tower forever to keep him safe. He wasnt allowed to make friends with any other children so he grew up alone. Teaching himself how to read and write and playing games to amuse himself."

Ty rolled his eyes. "Isn't that rather cliche? The whole prince trapped in a tower story? I've definitely heard that before."

Eleanor laughed. "Where did you hear the word cliche Tiberius?" Ty shrugged, not seeing the amusement in the situation.

"It was in a book. Can you keep going?" He whined impatiently. "I wanna hear the rest."

Eleanor sighed, shaking her head good naturedly. "Alright then. So the prince was trapped for a very long time. Then one day a mysterious adventurer came exploring nearby the tower."

"Can it be a detective?" Ty interrupted, bouncing up and down. He had been obsessed with Clue lately.

"Alright sure, it was a detective. He was searching the answers to a murder mystery. The murder of a young women." Ty instantly looked interested. Perhaps murder was not the best subject for a story being told to an eight year old, but Ty was a shadowhunter. They were trained to deal with blood and death.

"His was searching for information and came across the tower," she continued. So he decided to investigate. He snuck passed the ogar and into the tower, where he was ambushed by the prince!"

Ty gasped excitedly, wriggling in place. "What happened next? Did they fight?"

Eleanor opened her mouth to continue, but then the bedroom door flew open, startling them both.

It was Andrew. Instantly Ty shrunk himself down, hunching his shoulders. Eleanor knew that Ty didn't always get along with his father but she knew Andrew still loved him deep down. He glared at them both.

"Ty your mother is meant to be resting," he said pointedly.

Eleanor shook her head. "Oh no it's alright. He wasn't bothering me." Andrew didn't seem to hear her.

"Tiberius let's go," he said harshly. Ty hesitated for a moment, looking up at her.

"But I wanna hear the rest of the story!" He protested. "I wanna know what happens to the prince!" Eleanor sighed solemnly. She didn't want to disappoint Ty, but she was feeling pretty worn out.

"Another time baby," she assured him. "I promise."

But unfortunately she never got the chance. She never got the chance because little did they know, Eleanor Blackthorn had cancer. Something that silent brothers couldn't cure. Something that shadowhunters were powerless against.

"What are you thinking about ?" Kit murmered from his spot curled up against Ty's chest. His breath tickled Ty's chin.

Ty paused, not quite sure how to answer. They were lying on the roof of the LA institute again. It was their special spot. Kit had suggested a night of star gazing for a date since the weather was nice.

Things has been a little weird between them lately. Kit had been pretending that everything was fine and he was unfazed, but Ty could tell that something was bothering him. And he had a feeling he knew what it was.

At Magnus and Alec's anniversary party, Jace made a joke about how Kit and Ty would probably be the next ones to get married and Ty immediately went into a blind panic. He completely froze up at the mention of marriage. At the mention of him getting married. His body instantly went into a complete overload almost as if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

He didn't take the time to think about any of it. He just snapped and yelled that he wasn't getting married. That he wasn't ever getting married. Ty wasnt even sure where it came from. Kit was pretending like it wasnt a big deal but Ty knew he was hurting. He could tell.

Ty traced a pattern across Kit's arm. "Honestly it was nothing," he assured him. "I just-." Ty stared at Kit, studying his face. The curve of his lips, the adorable blush of his cheeks and the tiny beauty mark under his eye that Ty loved to fixate on. Everything ached, but it was a good kind of ache.

Ty loved him.

"I just want to stay like this forever," he murmered. "Here with you, where I feel safe and warm. And loved." Ty nuzzled his nose against Kit's. "I want to be with you forever."

Kit smiled distantly before breaking into a slight frown. "Then why don't you wanna marry me?" He asked sadly. And Ty could instantly hear the old ghosts of self loathing and insecurity still haunting Kit's thoughts.

Ty sighed. "It has nothing to do with you I promise. I just really don't want to get married and I'm not even fully certain of why exactly."

Kit stroked his cheek slowly. "Is it the idea of a big wedding? Because we don't have to do that you know. We can totally just skip it," he said assuredly.

Ty shook his head. "That's part of it but it isn't the only reason." He paused to contemplate what exactly it was that was making him feel this way, feel so afraid.

Strangely enough, Ty kept coming back to his mother. His mother who was always a little peculiar in private. Who always seemed sad and exhausted even before the silent brothers diagnosed her. Who was constantly going along with whatever her husband wanted for whatever reason. Because she assumed he knew what he was doing? Because she didn't want to make waves in a society so rigid and obsessed with conformity?

Ty had been considering it more and more lately.

He sat up, displacing Kit from where he was resting. "I think my mother was like me," Ty admitted in a shakey voice. "I think she was autistic and that's why she ended up in the situations she did."

"Ok?" Kit looked confused. "But that still doesn't explain-."

Ty interrupted him. "She was trying so hard to fit in and do the right thing and she would just let him control her. She kept compromising for him because she thought that's what she was supposed to do and also because despite it all I think she really loved him! And it made her so stupid!" Ty shouted.

"I just don't want to become trapped like that," he confessed.

Kit was silent for a moment, just staring at him with a puzzled expression. "Ok, but Ty you realize that I'm not your dad right? Like I would never try and control you or make you into something you're not. I'm not trying to own you, I'm trying to love you!" He argued. "Ty, marriage isnt supposed to trap you. It's about making our relationship into an Offical legal thing that everyone's forced to acknowledge and accept."

Kit took Ty's hand in his. "It's about making each other family."

Ty looked away. He couldn't meet Kit's eyes when he was staring at him looking so hopeful and desperate. It did strange things to Ty's insides. He squeezed his eyes shut, scrunching up his face along with his fists for a moment before letting go.

"I just don't want to let someone have power over me in that way," he explained. Kit sighed, then smiled softly before leaning forward to rest his forehead against Ty's. Ty let out a little moan as he let the tension release from his body with a sigh. Kit placed his hand over Ty's heart.

"But don't you get it Ty?" He asked softly. "You already have, whether you meant to or not. I'm in your system sweetheart, in your blood just like you're in mine." Ty felt him smile. "Like we were made for each other. Like we've spent our entire lives waiting for each other."

Ty pulled away from him. "No I don't believe that," he stated firmly. "I don't believe in fate or destiny or soulmates. I think it's an overt romanticization of life and the human condition which can have disastrous consequences. It leads people to believe that they are somehow incomplete without a romantic partner which is incredibly problematic." Ty realized he was probably going on a bit of a tangent as he was known to do. But he couldn't be bothered to care.

Kit pouted a little. "Yeah I get that. But I don't know. I like to romanticize things in life. After everything that I've been through, I guess it just makes things feel better you know?" Kit glanced at him hopefully."I don't care if you don't believe in any of those things. I do. And despite what you might believe, you aren't always right about everything," Kit said pointedly.

Ty scowled at him. Kit was undeterred. "And I get that you're coming at this from a scary trauma place. I understand that. I have those too. But you don't have to be afraid of me," he pleaded.

Ty couldn't resist reaching out and touching him, pushing a curly lock of hair behind his ear. "Can I maybe think about it?" Kit smiled and snuggled up against Ty's chest again. "Of course," he murmered. Ty leaned back and resumed his earlier position, staring up at the sky.

He nuzzled his face against Kit's hair. "I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore," said Ty.

Kit snorted, turning to face Ty. "I'm never mad at you love. It's pretty much impossible." Ty grinned and leaned forward to kiss him slowly, savoring the feeling of Kit's lips against his.

Kit broke off and kissed Ty's cheek, then his orbital bone. Ty giggled and closed his eyes which prompted Kit to place a kiss on each of his eyelids.

"I love every inch of you," Kit whispered. Ty couldn't speak. He was too overwhelmed. He just wrapped his arms around Kit even tighter and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

They lay in peaceful silence for several moments before Kit spoke.

"Tell me a story."

In case you missed it, the story Eleanor was telling Ty is the story of kitty in Lady Midnight basically. Also. Not me projecting my fear of marriage onto my comfort character! 😂

Tag list: (lmk if you wanna be added/removed) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @dianasarrow @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @heloisacosta23 @adoravel-fenomeno @eutonyinwhisper

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #kit x ty #twp #cw mentions of ableism #cw mentions of abuse #cw minor character death #tiberius nero blackthorn #kit herondale #eleanor blackthorn

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persephone-plasmids · 3 years

Text

Nuka-World

A Deacon X Sole Fanfic

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Nuka-World

“I guess I’m just confused about why they dedicated an entire section of the park to their space theme. Why not just a ride?” MacCready asked, eyeing the Star Port tower in the Galactic Zone at Nuka-World.

“To get the youth excited about space exploration,” Danse answered in his usual serious tone. “They wanted to recruit potential cadets young.”

MacCready pulled a face at this explanation. “Do kids really like space, though?”

“Seriously, MacCready?” Sole asked. “You have a kid. You should know this.”

Deacon listened to the group theorizing over the chosen aesthetic of Nuka-World while he slid a Cappy shirt over his head with a grin.

“I know Dez sent us here to recover the kidnapped synth, but all this free merch is going to be incredibly distracting,” Deacon said.

At his words, Sole’s eyes grew large. “Where did you get that? I want one!”

Deacon nodded to the merchandise rack behind him and smiled as Sole scampered over with pure joy in her eyes. Danse watched with slight disapproval while MacCready continued examining the Star Port in confusion.

Bringing the tin can and the grumpy sniper along hadn’t been Deacon’s idea. Dez had said they’d need more than just Deacon and Sole on this mission since they had so much ground to cover. When Deacon had suggested Tinker Tom, Dez had just laughed and told Sole to ask some of “her people”. Whatever that meant.

Apparently, Sole’s “people” were a self-hating synth boy scout and MacCready, whose skill Deacon respected, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone honing in on his mission.

“This entire park seems wildly unsafe for children,” Danse said, his thick brows knitted together in a line.

“Nuka Cola has always been a bit shady,” MacCready agreed. “Makes sense that their park wouldn’t be quite as kid-friendly as it should be.”

“All right, I’m ready to get this show on the road,” Sole said, walking out from the back room of the merchandise area with a Cappy shirt and cowboy hat.

“No fair! I didn’t see the hat!” Deacon whined. “I would have taken it for myself.”

“We can share custody,” Sole promised with a grin in Deacon’s direction.

Deacon screwed up his face as he thought this over. “Fine, but I get weekends and holidays.”

“Deal.” Sole gave him one of her smiles that reminded him why he needed to keep his distance from her emotionally. One of the smiles that made him want all the things he couldn’t have.

He ignored it.

“You’re both wrong,” MacCready said, snatching the hat quickly from Sole’s head and placing it on his own. “This baby’s coming with me.”

Sole laughed at this, making Deacon feel that familiar pang of jealousy again. He prided himself on making Sole laugh. He didn’t love that someone else was currently taking over his favorite job.

“You two are going to Dry Rock Gulch, I guess it’s only fair that you get the cowboy hat, RJ,” Sole said, straightening the hat on MacCready’s head with a familiarity that made Deacon feel much less in control of himself than he normally was.

“We should get going before it gets too dark,” Deacon said with a forced smile. “We don’t want Danse rusting from the evening dew.”

“Negative, soldier, “ Danse said. “My power armour doesn’t rust.”

“At ease,” Deacon responded with a little salute at the former Brotherhood of Steel Paladin. “Try to enjoy yourself a little Danse. Despite what they told you in the Brotherhood, it won’t actually kill you.”

Danse gave him a look like he wasn’t amused by his joke before turning away and heading towards Dry Rock Gulch with MacCready.

“Geez,” Deacon said. “Never send that guy on a stealth mission. I swear we’ll be able to hear his power armor clomping around through the whole park.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing we already cleared out those raiders, huh?”

“No thanks to the tin can and grumpy pants over there,” Deacon said, now smiling at Sole.

“That one was a Deacon and Sole special,” Sole answered. “We didn’t need any outside assistance.”

Deacon nodded at this, watching Sole for a moment too long before realizing he was being weird. He realized that a lot around Sole. He had to constantly remind himself how he acted around people who didn’t make him feel the way Sole did. It was exhausting.

“I say we head over to that old junkyard. If I was a Synth in hiding, that’s where I’d go,” Sole said.

“You got it, boss,” Deacon answered, following her as she began walking.

The two walked in silence for a long time. Deacon guessed that Sole was thinking about the mission. Deacon, of course, was having another mini existential crisis regarding Sole. But he was also attempting to lie to himself about his feelings, which turned it into a whole thing. He could be a very convincing liar.

When the two rounded an old abandoned building, Deacon was shocked to see a crowd right in front of them.

“Whoa, hold up,” Deacon said, placing his arm straight out to stop Sole from walking.

It was too little too late though. The group of people in space suits standing had clearly seen them. How had Deacon missed them? They were literally a handful of weirdos in space suits.

Sole had distracted him with her very existence again. This was why he had to stop letting himself explore any potential feelings for her. They just got in the way of their missions. They made him sloppy. And sloppy could very well mean “dead” in this situation.

“Greetings,” one of the space-suit-clad people said, taking a step forward.

Deacon placed one hand behind his back where he kept a gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. The other hand was wrapped tightly around Sole’s arm, keeping her in a safe position slightly behind him.

“Listen, we’re looking for information on--” Sole began, but the woman who appeared to be the leader of the odd group before them interrupted her.

“Are you here to help us get the spaceship up and running?” the woman asked. Her slightly crazed eyes were wide and bloodshot.

Sole furrowed her brow and looked at Deacon who was still trying to understand what he’d just heard.

“The great power above told us they would send someone soon. You, my weary traveler, must be the one to help us rebuild our spacecraft.”

“No,” Sole said slowly. “We’re just here too--” but again she was interrupted, this time by Deacon’s hand placed clumsily over her lips.

“Wait just… shush for a second,” he whispered with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “This is amazing.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Yes, my fair… uh… lady. We were sent from the head honcho in the stars to come offer our support for your interstellar travels.”

Deacon’s voice had adopted a grand tone and he released his concealed gun to instead gesture widely at the group in front of him.

“Excellent news, kind sir,” the woman said. “I am Dara. Come. We don’t have much time. Follow us.”

“Lead the way my most excellent and esteemed priestess,” Deacon said.

Sole looked over at the spy incredulously, mouthing a quick, “What are you doing?” to him.

She wasn’t sure if Deacon hadn’t understood her question or if he was just willfully ignoring her, because he simply clapped his hands together and mouthed back, “I know, right?”

The space-suit-clad group led them through the old junkyard to a red metal object that looked an awful lot like an old carnival ride. It was supposed to look like a UFO, but anyone could see it wasn’t any kind of actual aircraft.

“Ah yes, a fine specimen indeed,” Deacon said when they approached the ride. His voice was still serious as he spoke, though Sole knew him well enough to hear the pure glee behind it. “And what, pray tell, can we do to get this up and running for you again?”

“We have the fusion cells we need right here,” Dara said. “But we don’t know how to install them. If you can get our craft up and running, I know we’ll be on our way to our higher forms soon enough.”

“You’ll be on your way somewhere,” Sole scoffed under her breath, obviously not enjoying this nearly as much as Deacon.

“Well then step inside and get comfortable,” Deacon said with a grin. “I’ll get these fusion cores installed… uh… posthaste.”

Sole snorted at this, to which Deacon elbowed her. He didn’t want her giving him away just because she found him amusing.

Dara led the group of space cadets into the UFO ride and shut the door behind her, leaving Sole and Deacon alone.

“Okay, what in the actual world is going on?” Sole asked incredulously.

“I know! This is seriously amazing,” Deacon said, barely able to contain his joy. “These people actually think this is a spaceship!”

“I’m pretty sure this is a Gravitron,” Sole said. “They had them at the local carnival every year before the war. I used to love this ride.”

Sole’s eyes adopted that distant look they got whenever she talked about her time before the Vault-Tec incident. It made him feel sad for her, before he selfishly realized that if Vault-Tec hadn’t frozen her, he never would have met her.

“Will it be safe for me to fix it for them?” Deacon asked, Sole. He wanted to mess with the space cult, not kill them.

“They might get a bit motion sick,” Sole began. “But they should be fine.”

At her words, Deacon’s face adopted a mischievous grin that made Sole’s cheeks flush. “Excellent.”

Deacon installed the fusion cores Dara had given him without much effort before holding his hand out to Sole.

“Shall we?”

Sole let a grin spread across her full lips, taking Deacon’s hand in her own. “I can handle this ride, but I’m not sure you really understand what you’re in for.”

“You don’t think I could handle your ride?” Deacon asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively at her.

Sole took a step closer to Deacon, leaning close to him so that her lips were against his ear. “I know you couldn’t handle my ride, stealth boy.”

Deacon shivered involuntarily at her words and the feeling of her breath against his ear, but as quickly as the moment had happened, it passed. Sole pulled Deacon into the UFO ride with her, leaving him with a lingering mental image that he’d have to examine more thoroughly when he was alone later.

“This impeccably dressed harbinger of your more superior forms has successfully repaired your vessel,” Sole announced loudly, holding up Deacon’s hand. She looked over at him with a grin that set his heart on overdrive. “Not only was he able to repair your vessel, but he’s also promised to personally make sure his work is beyond reproach by coming along with you.”

“The star angel speaks the truth,” Deacon said, making Sole snort laugh again, though she was a bit better about covering this one up. “Sole, if you’ll do the honors.”

“Everybody up against the wall,” Sole said, watching as the space cult obeyed. “Deacon? Up against the wall?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me,” He said with a grin.

Sole just rolled her eyes and pointed at the wall, waiting for him to oblige. When everyone was in position, she took her place in the middle of the metal room and flipped the switch.

In an instant, the ride began to hum as the floor started to vibrate. At first, nothing moved and Deacon worried he hadn’t actually managed to fix the ride. But as the humming grew louder, the room began to spin.

Sole stayed in place in the center of the room and Deacon tried to keep his eyes on her, but as the rotations became quicker and quicker, he had to close his eyes. The force of the rotating ride crushed him against the padded wall of the room and he had to press his lips together to keep from getting sick. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the ride began to slow down until it eventually stopped.

When Deacon opened his eyes, the world was still spinning. Sole was watching him as if waiting for him to speak to the cult, but he couldn’t form a single thought.

“The mission has been a success,” Sole finally said, seeing that Deacon was completely useless at the moment. “Your craft has been repaired and will be ready for your final voyage once your preparations are complete.”

“Bless you,” Dara said, looking at Sole. “Bless both of you.”

Without another word, Dara and the other cultists left the UFO, leaving Deacon clutching the wall and breathing heavily. In an instant, Sole was beside him. She supported him as Deacon tilted his head down.

“Told you you couldn’t handle this ride,” Sole said, her voice lined with amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deacon said. “I feel fantastic. Think I might go run a marathon with Hancock later.”

Sole placed her hand on Deacon’s cheek gently, lifting his eyes to hers. He still felt sick, but the more she touched him, the less he seemed to notice the motion sickness.

“Hey lightweight, what do you think Danse and MacCready will say when they find out an old carnival ride floored you?”

“That question is irrelevant because if you tell them I’ll just deny everything,” he responded. “And of the two of us, who’s the better liar?”

Deacon was grinning at Sole again, but she didn’t smile back. Instead she was watching him curiously, her eyes roaming his face. He was confused by her expression before he realized just how clear she looked to him. Clearer than normal.

Panicked, Deacon brought his hand up to his face to find his sunglasses missing. He’d always been good at putting up walls between himself and everyone else, but he had a hard time doing that with Sole. The sunglasses were the only way he could keep some semblance of distance from her. Without them, he worried she’d see right through him. See who he really was. See how he really felt about her.

Deacon looked around himself for the sunglasses before Sole held them up wordlessly.

“You win, Charmer,” Deacon said with a nervous laugh. “Time to give them back now.”

Deacon reached out for the glasses but Sole held them behind her back with a wicked grin.

“I don’t know that I want you to put them back on. I’m enjoying finally seeing you,” she said, her eyes seeming to bore into his soul.

“No one wants to see this hot mess, trust me,” Deacon said, reaching for the sunglasses but failing to get them. All he managed to do was somehow get even closer to Sole.

“How did I not realize your eyes are blue?” Sole asked, her voice soft. “They’re… stunning.” She instantly blushed at her own words but didn’t back down. And she still didn’t give Deacon his sunglasses back. “They’re not just blue… they’re like… ice blue.”

“Must be all the surgery,” Deacon joked, even though his voice sounded flat.

The truth was, Deacon changed his appearance all the time. But his eyes? His eyes were his own. Always had been. They were the one thing he didn’t change about himself. So to have Sole admiring them in such a personal way felt… amazing.

And dangerous.

Sole bit her lip as she watched him and Deacon swallowed hard. “Why don’t you want anyone to see you?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her that he was scared they wouldn't like what was left after all the lies were stripped away. But he didn’t say that. Instead he said, “Because I don’t want them to fall in love with my beautiful face. It just wouldn’t be fair to destroy some unsuspecting wastelander like that.”

At his words, Sole laughed softly, just like he hoped she would. If she was laughing then she wasn’t asking him questions that hit too close to home for him.

“I mean, now that you’ve seen the full effect of my icy blue gaze, you surely must understand that I wield an ungodly amount of power.”

“I really don’t know how you manage to fit yourself and your ego into your tiny sleeping quarters in the Railroad,” Sole said with a roll of her eyes.

“There’s enough room,” Deacon said, his voice now teasing. “More than enough room if you ever want to join the two of us.”

And that was it. The truth of the matter. Deacon could flirt with Sole all day long if it was all a big joke. But if he ever told her that he’d dreamed about what it would be like to wake up next to her, he’d lose the small amount of control he still pretended to have in this partnership. He couldn’t tell her that he longed for the casual and familiar touches of two people who trusted each other so completely that their physical contact was expected and normal.

“Do you really want me to take you up on that offer?” Sole asked, a challenge in her eyes.

Deacon still hadn’t learned that he couldn’t tease her about their flirtation for too long. She’d always make it real. And as Deacon knew, real was dangerous.

“Or should I just hold onto these sunglasses for you?”

Deacon leaned forward, sliding his arms around Sole’s waist. He hated himself for the fact that she actually closed her eyes as he got closer to her, obviously expecting him to make a move. But instead, he grabbed the sunglasses that she hid behind her back before pulling away from her with a forced grin.

“Got em,” he said.

Sole opened her eyes, and when Deacon saw just how much disappointment they held, his heart broke. When he heard Sole try to cover up her disappointment with a joke the way he always did, his heart broke even more.

“Well then I guess it’s just you and your ego in your bed tonight,” she said. “Let’s go find Danse and MacCready to see if they’ve had any luck locating the Synth.”

“Oh right, we’ve got an actual reason to be here,” Deacon said, quickly putting his sunglasses back on and feeling immensely more comfortable behind his wall of protection.

“We actually have two reasons to be here,” Sole said as she walked towards the door of the UFO ride. “We need to find the Synth, but we also need to go to the fun house in Kiddie Kingdom.”

“Did I miss that part of the briefing, Charmer?” Deacon asked, following Sole to the bright junkyard outside.

“Dez probably just forgot to tell us how important it is that we go to the funhouse,” Sole said “But you and I are professionals. We have to check everything thoroughly.”

Sole raised her eyebrows at Deacon as she walked away and Deacon was left wondering how Dez ever could have thought it was a good idea to send Sole and himself to an amusement park together.

They’d never get anything done.

[Part 4]

Based on the time my OC and Deacon ran into that crazy cult in Nuka-World :P

#fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 #deacon #fallout deacon #sole survivor #deacon x sole #deacon x sole survivor #fo4 fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #fanfic #deacon fanfic

47 notes · View notes

blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Brave - CHAN

I honestly still can’t believe I’ve finished this? There was a time I didn’t think I’d get to writing this fully until 2021 lmao?? And now it’s the longest fic in the whispers of nature series I need to go lie down

Dedicated to @wingkkun because screaming to Kai was like 95% of the reason I wrote this so fast <3 I also appreciate your fanart SO MUCH you are the entire reason tbz has such a presence in this fic!!

(reposted for... the second time without gifs AND links if it doesn’t work I'll cry)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, nature spirit!au

Triggers: mild descriptions of violence (nothing graphic)

Word Count: 12.9k

Through tears, heartbreak, and a bit of love, Chan teaches you how to be brave once again.

SKZ Masterlist | Whispers of Nature

Red is simultaneously a color of love and a color of death. It is the color of passion, the color of a bride’s dress and the roses she carries down the aisle, but also the color of blood seeping slowly out of an open wound.

Right now, watching the wedding, surrounded by pale red flowers and silks and draperies, you feel as though you’re sitting at a funeral.

Your dress isn’t red, of course. No matter how much you wish you could leave the elegant hall and run away forever, you wouldn’t disrespect the bride in such a fashion. Not only is she the crown princess of your kingdom, she is also kind, a gentle, intelligent, bright woman who will be a brilliant queen when she is crowned tomorrow.

No wonder she is the love of your best friend’s life.

Something in you itches to just start screaming, to draw your sword and ruin the festivities. But you have no sword, only a sparkling ivory gown chosen by the kind princess herself. Today, as Jacob said, you are here as a friend. Not as a knight, not as a guard, not as a protector. A friend.

Somehow, that word feels so much worse than a cold “protector” would.

The dress is shimmering white, pale and beautiful, dotted with small crystals that shimmer like clouds and stars. It should make you feel lighter than air, light with happiness for your best friend and the woman he is marrying.

But the soft fabric feels cloying on your skin, heavy and strange and choking. It’s not that you can’t wear a dress – no, you’ve gone undercover many times at balls and galas as an unseen eye to protect Jacob, after he took his place as his father’s heir. It’s the situation.

This gown was made with good intentions. The heaviness in your heart has dragged those good intentions away, replacing them with dread, anger, guilt, and sadness.

At the altar, somewhere simultaneously very close and very far away, Jacob smiles at his bride-to-be, holding her soft hands between his rougher ones, reciting the vows that will bind them for the rest of their lives. You stifle the urge to place your hands over your ears.

Oh, spirits.

He says the word “love,” and you have to fight the visceral flinch that threatens to tear through your body.

His bride’s words are not quite as painful as his. You didn’t know her as well as you knew him (does she know his favorite color is burgundy, a red between scarlet and purple, the color of roses on the darkest night?), so her vows don’t sting as much. But there’s pain just the same – throbbing, subtle, never harsh but ever present.

The neckline of your dress feels too hot against your skin.

With sick dread, you listen to her voice taper away, see the trembling smile on her face as she stares into the face of the nobleman’s son. Jacob stares back with all the stars of the sky in his eyes.

(Did he never notice that you looked at him the same way?)

The priest takes their hands, guides them through the “I dos.” They are a radiant couple, pure red covering pale skin and silky hair.

Your heart, smothered in innocent white cloth, cries.

The priest’s next words ring through your head, rattling around your mind with a force to rival the club that gave you last year’s concussion. “You may kiss the bride,” you hear, muffled as though he is speaking through water.

The red-covered couple leans in close. One of Jacob’s hands cups her cheek almost reverently, while the other gently grasps her fingers. He looks at her like she hung the moon that illuminates the red roses of his night.

You’re a knight. You’re one of the Guard. You’re brave, courageous, able to face down any foe without hesitation, ready to fight to the death for your country and the people that you love.

As their lips touch, you close your eyes.

(You’re a coward.)

. . . . .

Your boots echo loudly on the hard marble floor. As you approach the throne, the large, wooden doors swing shut behind you with a soft thud. You sink to your knees, head bowed.

“Rise,” your queen says, her voice lilting and sweet and perfect in the shining chamber. Her king consort, your best friend (is he still your best friend? You aren’t quite sure), sits by her side.

Respectfully, you stand, careful to hide any vestiges of pain on your face. It’s been several months since the wedding, and you’ve gone back to the Crown’s Guard, assigned to protect the king and queen and train the guards for their duties.

The metal of your armor, though heavier than the ivory dress that still hangs in your closet, feels lighter on your body. It is protection, from swords and words and emotions.

“We received the request for your leave of absence,” the queen says. Her eyes convey the perfect amount of sadness and wisdom. “We would be sorry to see you go.”

Jacob looks at you beseechingly. He wants you to change your mind, to stay as his friend and protector. Your mind tells you that you should stay – after all, you know little of the other kingdoms, of the lands you have decided to travel and explore. Staying in the country you know best is the safest option, for you and for the royal family.

But your heart tells you to go, and on this matter, you will listen. You wouldn’t be able to live here long, watching Jacob and his queen rule happily together for the rest of your days. You wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing their children romp around, watching them dance together at balls, hearing the cries of the common folk singing praises of the royal couple.

“However, though it pains us to see such a trusted member of the Guard gone, it is your life, and we wish for you to live it to the fullest.” The queen smiles gently, holding out a folded letter. “This contains a copy of your signed request, as well as a letter of recommendation to any future employer you may seek.”

She’s kind. So kind. Your throat closes up as you take the letter, and you can barely choke out a “thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And do remember,” Jacob adds, “that you will always have a place in our guard, should you choose to return.”

“I thank you for your kindness, Your Majesties.” You bow low, touching your hand to your head in a gesture of utmost respect. “I, too, am sad to go. However, I do not doubt that I leave you in very capable hands.” A ghost of your usual smirk appears on your lips. “And I am sure, Your Majesty, that the King Consort has enough skill to keep the two of you safe.”

The queen, being the wonderful lovely woman she is, chuckles slightly. “If he was taught by you, I am sure he will.” She smiles. “We wish you the best, Protector of the Crown.”

. . .

Jacob catches up to you later, just as training has finished for the day. As you bid goodbye to the last recruits, he enters through the back door. You recognize his footsteps and put on a smile as you turn around.

“I could’ve been an attacker, you know,” he says, slipping into the easy banter you’ve established over a decade of friendship.

“You think I don’t recognize your footsteps by now?” The smile stays on your face more easily now, not because the pain is any less, but because you’ve had more practice.

A short silence hangs in the air. Sweat from your hair drips onto your leather tunic, while not a speck of dust lies on the rich silk that clothes your best friend. It reminds you of how far apart you are now.

“Is there really no way I can persuade you not to leave?” Jacob finally asks. His mouth is downturned in the slight pout you’ve grown to love, while his eyes hold the hope that made you fall.

Your mind screams yes. Your heart shouts no.

“Not this time, Cobi.” The nickname slips out before you can even think. “I’ve made my decision. It’s time for me to go.”

Jacob sighs. “Could you at least tell me why?”

You could. Speaking words isn’t as hard as other people think it is. It’s just that once you say them, you can never take them back.

Should you tell him?

His eyes are earnest. They’re honest. They want the brutal truth that you’ve grown accustomed to giving him over the years.

But the easiest lies are those that carry a hint of truth.

“I’ve never traveled.” The untruth falls easily from your lips. “Sure, I’ve gone to the countries where we were called to battle, and I was around when you had to go places for business, but I never got to really see anything. I want to explore, see the world before I’m too old.”

He doesn’t completely believe you. You know that for sure. You can see it in the downturned quirk of his lips, the suspicion as he blinks, but he knows better than to question it. He knows you would tell him everything if you could.

(This time, you can’t.)

“And here I was, thinking I could find you someone in court to repay you for all you’ve done for me.” Jacob smiles, completely unaware of how his words are stabbing holes into your heart. “Visit, all right? You’ll always be welcome here.”

You can almost hear your heart shattering, the pieces breaking off bit by bit as they fall to the floor. But you smile. “I’ll try,” you say, because here you won’t lie and say that you will. You won’t give your best friend, the love of your short life, a promise you may not be able to keep. “I’ll try.”

He hugs you, staining his silken shirt with the sweat of your tunic. You hesitate a moment, then fall into the embrace, taking a final comfort in the strength of his arms. It hurts, but it’s a memory. And even though you want to escape, you don’t want to forget Jacob. Ever.

“I’ll see you off when you go,” Jacob says when you break apart. “Tell me when, all right?”

Should you tell him? you wonder. Will him seeing you off do anything but hurt you more?

It won’t. But your pain means little in the face of Jacob’s, not when you’ve already hurt him so much with your desire to leave. You’ve injured him enough. “I will,” you promise.

Later that night, you wonder if you should have told him the true reason you were leaving. You wonder if you should have confessed everything, laid your heart bare and told him how much he truly means to you.

No, you eventually decide. You’re glad you didn’t. Better to not ruin his happiness with his wife or his remaining memories of you.

(Or maybe you were just too scared to tell him.)

. . .

You set out early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to peek over the horizon. A part of you hoped that Jacob would be too tired to send you off, but you knew he could never do that. He cares for you.

Just not in the way you care for him.

He meets you at the stables, where you’re outfitting your favorite horse for the journey. In his loose tunic and trousers, it almost feels like the two of you are in your teens again, waking early to train for your positions in the Guard.

Those were the good days, you think. There wasn’t a worry in the world besides making it past the next test. Jacob’s father wasn’t dead, and he didn’t have to leave the Guard to take over his household’s duties. Meanwhile, you had no idea of your feelings. There was no heartbreak.

Better times.

Words aren’t necessary, not this morning. Jacob helps you saddle your horse and store your belongings in silence. If he notices you stiffening – just barely, mind you, you’re much better at hiding it now – when his fingers brush against yours, he doesn’t say anything.

When everything is finished, you linger for a moment more. It hits you that you’re really leaving the place and the people you’ve called home for so long with no intention of coming back.

Jacob’s eyes are sad but tinged with hope when he finally speaks. “You’ll always be welcome here, you know that, right?”

Your chest tightens. You know he’s asking, one more time, for you to stay.

Last chance to tell him, you think. Last chance to clear the air.

But you’re still a coward.

“I know,” you reply. “But I have to go, Jacob.”

He doesn’t ask you why, not this time.

You wrap him in a hug, one last hug before you set off forever. A piece of your heart shatters when he puts his arms around you, squeezing your body to his in that secure, soft hold that’s just so him. So caring, so sweet, so Jacob.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

“Safe travels, Y/N,” he says as you swing yourself onto the horse. His eyes sparkle. You know he’s holding back tears, too.

You give him one last smile, imprinting the memory of his voice saying your name in your mind. “Thank you, Jacob.”

When you ride away, you only look back once. Jacob smiles in the distance, hand raised in farewell. A small tear on his cheek barely glints in the morning sunlight.

You wave back.

. . . . .

Travel is liberating, truly – though you loved being a knight, there’s something so free about not wearing armor all the time, not having everyone recognize you as one of the Crown’s Guard. You don’t have to listen to anyone, you don’t have to watch out for constant danger. You don’t have to worry about anyone, now, but yourself.

There’s a little guilt in this pleasure, as well as some unease. It’s strange not to follow the strict routine you’ve held yourself to for over a decade, and it’s even weirder not to have someone you are charged to protect.

Well, you have to protect yourself, you guess. But that just… doesn’t come as naturally.

You eventually force yourself stop thinking about it. Thoughts like these weigh down your mind and take away from the joys of exploration, you firmly remind yourself. So you content yourself with roaming small towns and villages, meeting the people, picking up new skills with which to make a living.

(You never knew you were so bad at cooking, but at least you get better.)

The spirits treat you kindly for the first few years. The money from your work as a knight keeps you afloat as you learn to make a new living (you avoid using the queen’s letter – that would draw attention, and you don’t want any of that now), and when that runs out, you put your newfound abilities to use wherever people care to pay you for them.

It’s not a rich existence. Nothing is certain in this life, not the way it was when you lived in the palace barracks and your basic needs were always met. Here, you can rely only on yourself for food and water and shelter.

But it’s enough. Everywhere you go, you meet new people – rich and poor, rude and kind – and it only enhances your wonder at the world around you. Truly, you think, you lived in a bubble before. Now, even though you’re poorer, you can see everything your eyes glanced over as a knight.

(And if you sometimes miss Jacob’s warm smile, even if it never spoke of love as deep as yours, it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your decision. You won’t go back.)

It isn’t like you’re losing your fighting skills, either. You still have your sword, something you refuse to part with no matter how little money you have. There’s plenty of danger – bandits, thieves, rich boys who think they own the streets – and as such, plenty of opportunities for you to keep your senses sharp.

It’s after one of these fights that you meet the moon child, Changbin. He appears in the dark alley after you’ve knocked the last man out and takes concern with the bleeding wound on your upper arm.

“I’m fine,” you try to tell him as he firmly guides you away from the alley and towards a dark patch of trees. “I’m fine – hey, please let go of me.”

Hearing the urgency in your voice, he drops your arm. Your hand immediately goes to the sword at your hip. “Where are you taking me?” you snap, eyes flickering toward the trees.

He reddens. “I’m so stupid,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. “I stay in the woods,” he explains. “If you’ll let me take you there, I can help you clean your wound.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You stay in the woods?” you repeat, incredulous. “Why –”

A breeze shifts his hair away from his ear, revealing a pure white flower dangling from a slim chain, glowing in the moonlight.

A moon child.

Oh.

In all of your years of traveling, you never thought you would truly meet a spirit.

“My Lord,” you say, dropping hastily to your knees. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier.”

“Please, none of that.” The moon child tugs you back up, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m just a moon child, none of the ‘my Lord’ stuff. My name is Changbin.”

Changbin doesn’t turn out to be a bandit masquerading as a moon child, thankfully, so you allow him to clean your wound in his makeshift hut in the middle of the trees. He introduces himself fully as a wanderer. Not a traveler, he clarifies, because travelers roam the world for pleasure. He does it out of necessity.

(The look of desolation in his eyes convinces you not to ask.)

He becomes your companion for months, nearly a year, walking with you from city to city until he decides to part ways in a small village near a forest. By that time, you’re sad to see him go – he’s been a wonderful friend – but like Jacob never asked the reason for your departure, you honor Changbin’s desire for silence.

He does leave you with one piece of advice, “traveler’s wisdom,” he calls it (you punch him in the arm when he says that in this high, haughty voice). “Villagers will tell you that these woods are dangerous,” he says once the two of you have calmed down. “They’ll say it’s haunted by spirits. And there is danger, it’s true, but there is also safety.”

You listen carefully.

“In the heart of the woods, there is a shrine. If ever you find yourself lost or in trouble, go into the forest at the break of dawn and find the shrine. The priestesses will take you in. If you can’t find the shrine by dark, though, leave as fast as you can.” The seriousness in Changbin’s eyes tells you he isn’t joking this time. “The forest isn’t nearly as dangerous during the day as it is during the night.”

So you travel for another year, keeping Changbin’s words in the back of your mind. As you continue, though, money begins to get scarce. These villagers are more suspicious than others you’ve met and aren’t as quick to hire a newcomer, especially one so poor but who bears such a sword (you’ll never sell it, not ever). Their suspicion is understandable, but it doesn’t make anything better for you.

You’re lost, now. You sold your horse and fine clothes a long time ago, leaving you with nothing from your old life but your memories and your sword. You’ve become a wanderer, not a traveler – forced to roam for no reason other than you must.

Several times, you mull over returning to the Guard. Jacob said he would welcome you back, and the thought of a full stomach and a place to sleep almost make up your mind on the worst nights.

But even though you want to see Jacob again, want to remember his warmth and kindness, a green snake twists its way around your heart, sliding up your throat every time you think of going back to him. He’ll never accept you, not truly, the snake hisses. He’ll never love you the way you love him.

And try as you might, you can’t stomach the thought of facing him again, not when you made the choice to leave.

So you remain a coward, a blind, stupid, stubborn coward. Instead of going to a place you know, a place where you would find care and acceptance, you throw your lot into Changbin’s advice.

You decide to find the shrine.

. . .

You’re on your last coins when you finally make it back to the village where you and Changbin parted ways. As dawn breaks, you take a breath, summoning your last strength, and head between the trees.

It’s eerie, a bit, but so beautiful. As the sun rises, the sky turns a beautiful shade of blue that melds with the trees’ greenery. It almost distracts you from the fact that you legitimately have zero idea where you’re going – Changbin only told you the shrine was at the heart of the forest, nothing else. You’ve been marking your path with stones you picked up along the way, but something tells you that won’t help much if you’re being chased by… an evil spirit. Or something.

(It’s embarrassing and slightly scary to say it, but you don’t think you have the strength anymore to outrun such a spirit, much less fight one.)

Luck seems to finally be on your side, though, because after exhaustedly pushing through a crowd of bushes, you come face to face with a beautiful shrine, surrounded by wild gardens and small stone buildings.

Several young men and women – a few barely older than children – look up at the rustling of leaves. For a few moments, they stare at your undoubtedly grimy, gross face. You only stare back.

It feels like an eternity has passed before one of the young women stands and walks up, a gentle smile on her face. “Hello, traveler.”

“Hello,” you manage, voice croaking with disuse. You clear your throat, face hot. “I’m sorry for intruding. I just… I met… I don’t know if you know him, but I met a moon – a man named Changbin –”

“You met Changbin?” Her eyes take on a new intensity and a sliver of joy.

“Um, yes.” You try to smile. “He told me if I was lost and needed a place to stay, I could try to find the shrine.” Looking down at your dirty hands, you bite your lip in shame. “I’m sorry. I can leave if you want, I’ve just… I don’t have a place to stay. I can cook, clean, anything you need help with. And, um…” You hold out the remaining coins in your pocket. “I have these?”

A rough hand closes your fingers over the money. “Keep your coins, traveler.” The woman smiles widely. “Changbin would only tell a true friend about the shrine, and a friend of Changbin’s is always a friend of ours.”

As she leads you into the shrine, the only thing you feel is guilty, overwhelming, crushing relief. Relief that you won’t have to face Jacob once more. Relief that you won’t have to face your heart once more.

The mere thought of your cowardice makes you cringe.

. . .

The shrine, you learn, is a very busy place. You wake up pretty early the next day, unused to the fact that you have an actual futon now and not just the ground, but already the other two girls in the room are getting dressed. Feeling distinctly out of place, you start to follow suit.

“Oh, you don’t need to get up just yet!” One of them smiles. “You’re a guest, traveler. Take some time to rest.”

“No, it’s all right.” You smile back, hoping it isn’t as awkward as it feels. “I’ve never been able to sleep too late, and I don’t feel right intruding on your hospitality without giving something back in return. Is there anything I can help with?”

So you find yourself in the garden after breakfast, sweating under the sun with a boy around your age named Kevin. He’s cheerful. Very fun company. Somehow, he makes the monotonous task of pulling weeds enjoyable, even takes your mind off of how out of place you feel in this quaint shrine.

Walking back into the shrine after spending the day in the garden, you wave off Kevin’s offer to bring you dinner, telling him you’re going to take a shower instead. But because you’re an idiot, you forget the fact that you have no idea where the showers are.

Kevin’s already walking away, and you honestly feel too embarrassed to call after him and ask. So, ignoring the curious stares you’re garnering from the other girls and boys, you start walking in an arbitrary direction.

It’s a mistake. As the sun sets, you feel like you’ve wandered the grounds at least four times, but you can’t even find a semblance of a shower room in the whole shrine. You’re about to give up when the priestess who welcomed you walks out of a nearby building, followed by a young man with curly blond hair.

You really don’t mean to catch his eye. In fact, you’re drawing away, about to walk in the other direction, when he looks up and fixes your gaze with his. His eyes narrow.

You suddenly feel very uncomfortable.

The priestess – what was her name? Priestess Yang? You think that’s it – turns around and sees you there, immediately breaking into a gentle smile. “Oh, hello, Y/N!”

Sheepishly, you wave. “Hello, Priestess.”

“You welcomed the sword-bearer?” the man interrupts.

What?

You’re not even carrying your sword. You left it back in the room, thinking it might be viewed as a threat if you brought it around. And you’ve never seen this man in your life. So how does he know that about you?

The priestess gives him a scolding look. “Chan, the shrine welcomes those who are lost.”

“But a sword-bearer?” he – Chan – argues. “You do remember what kinds of damage they cause?”

Indignation rises in your chest. He doesn’t even know you, and he’s already making assumptions? “Hey –”

“Changbin told her to find us if she was lost,” Priestess Yang cuts in smoothly. “If Changbin can trust this sword-bearer, I’m sure you can find it in yourself to do so too, Chan.”

Chan just looks at you with undisguised suspicion in his eyes. You glare back. How dare he assume such things about your character?

“Were you looking for someone, Y/N?” Priestess Yang asks, pulling you out of your annoyance.

“Well, no.” The sheepish smile finds its way back to your face. “I was, um, looking for the showers.”

“Oh, they’re just over there! I’ll show you the way.” She pats Chan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you, Chan.”

Chan smiles briefly, then disappears into the air, leaving behind the faintest scent of grass and springtime.

The priestess laughs at the shocked look on your face. “Chan is our forest guardian,” she explains, leading you onto a dirt path. “He helps keep us safe.”

Uneasiness crawls up your spine. “Is that how he knew I had a sword?”

“Yes.” She nods. “He sees everything, knows of all those who travel the forest. It’s part of his Sight.”

A ripple of annoyance passes through your mind.

All that sight, and he couldn’t help me once? you grumble internally. Thanks a lot, guardian.

Suffice to say, even though Priestess Yang encourages you to have an open mind, your opinion of Chan isn’t the highest.

. . .

The discomfort of being the “new traveler” at the shrine stays for a week or so. By then, most of the residents are more or less used to your presence (you just ignore Chan whenever he gives you one of his suspicious looks), and you’ve carved out a small niche for yourself, taking care of the shrine children.

There are more than you expected, surprisingly. You would’ve thought the shrine was primarily made up of older teens, if anything, who could find their way here. When you mention this to Kevin, he gets a faraway look in his eye. “The shrine opens its arms to the lost,” he says in reply. “It makes itself easier to find for children, because they often can’t journey here themselves.”

“Abusive families?”

Kevin bites his lip. “Yes.”

This knowledge only makes you want to protect them more.

As much as you enjoy talking with Kevin in the garden, it’s so much easier to work with the shrine children, you find. They’re sweet and kind, if rambunctious, and you make it your duty to keep them occupied and safe while the older kids and priestesses work.

“Y/N, Y/N!” One of the older children, Yuna, comes running up one afternoon. “Priestess Jeon said you could take us into the forest for a walk!”

“Who else?” you ask. “Not just you, right?”

“Chaeryeong, Sunwoo, and Eric want to come too.” She looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you weigh the merits and dangers of a walk. It’s going to get dark in a few hours, so you can’t stay out long, but if one of the head priestesses agreed, it couldn’t be too bad of an idea. The kids aren’t too young, either. They’ll listen if something goes wrong.

“If you get one of the messenger boys to come, we can go,” you eventually decide. If something happens, at least you’ll be able to send someone off to get help quickly. Just in case, though, you strap your sword to your side.

Juyeon meets you with the four kids at the shrine’s entrance. Your heart sinks a little – you hoped Yuna would find Kevin – but Juyeon is pleasant enough. He returns the smile you flash at him, anyway.

The walk is uneventful, for the most part. Eric and Yuna pepper you with questions about your work as a knight while Sunwoo and Chaeryeong listen in rapture. Really, it hurts a little to talk about your life in years past, but for the kids, you’ll do it. The smiles on their faces are worth it.

When you start walking back to the shrine, though, the air changes. It doesn’t ripple right – the wind feels strange, somehow evil. Juyeon clearly feels it too, from the way his eyes are darting around the trees. With an unspoken agreement, you begin herding the kids along faster.

There’s barely a change in the wind when the thing – whatever it is – swoops down. Only the blur of a wing in the side of your vision alerts you and you shout, pushing Eric out of the owl’s range and drawing your sword.

“What the fuck is that?” you snap, brandishing your blade.

Juyeon’s face is white as he gathers the children. “Screech owl!”

“Screech owl?”

Then the thing – screech owl, you guess – dives down again, and there’s no time to talk.

“Juyeon!” you yell. “Get them out of here!”

He doesn’t argue, just herds the children together and races away. Smart boy.

You’ve never fought an opponent in the air before. It isn’t fun. The owl is fast, too fast, almost like a damn mosquito racing through the air as you try to squash it, only a million times bigger and fiercer.

Your sword slashes through the air as you duck and twist and hide behind trees, feathers fluttering to the grass all around you. Awful shrieks ring through the air and you honestly can’t tell if it’s you or the bird – all of your senses are jumbled up.

Adrenaline courses through your veins even as the sun sets further, washing the forest in pale evening light. The bird seems to take delight in the onset of night – it swoops faster, hoots louder, and is in general just a much bigger asshole than before (if that was possible).

“ARGH!” A claw slices the top of your shoulder. If I had my armor…

But you don’t, so you duck behind another tree. Think, Y/N, think, you tell yourself as you heave deep breaths. Wait, no, don’t think. Thinking gets you killed.

Just listen.

The air is still. You don’t move a muscle.

Then –

The faintest brush of wind on your left.

Your sword cuts through meat and bone, and the owl falls, dead, at your feet.

For a moment, you just stand there, gasping, staring at the blood dripping off your blade and pooling from the owl’s body.

Gross.

“Thank you.”

For not the first time that afternoon, you let out a deathly screech and leap away. Clapping a hand over your heart, you glare at the newcomer.

“… Chan?”

“That’s my name.” The forest guardian raises an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “Thank you for killing the owl.”

You just look at him, eyebrows fully wrinkled in annoyance and confusion. “If you wanted the owl dead, why didn’t you kill it yourself? You’re the forest guardian, surely you have the power to do that much.”

“I can’t kill things just because I want to,” Chan replies. It should sound antagonistic, you think, but the look in his eyes is softer than he’s ever looked at you. Appreciative, maybe? “It would upset the forest’s balance if its guardian killed one of those who live in its domain. I can only defend the forest against those that mean it deadly harm, not those that are merely dangerous.”

Wiping your sword on the edge of your tunic, you mull that over. “But if the screech owl was too dangerous, wouldn’t that upset the balance of the forest in the end anyway?”

“We weren’t at that point yet.” Chan raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “But you killed it, so we’ll never know if that would’ve happened.”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”

He laughs. It’s a surprisingly cheerful sound – you thought it might sound like, you don’t know, someone croaking (look, you never had the greatest opinion of Chan until this point, and that’s still in the air). “I don’t think it is,” he finally says. “And I’m sorry. I was wrong about you being like all of the other sword-bearers who came to this forest. You clearly care for the shrine children.”

An apology. That’s something. Grudgingly, you force yourself to see Chan in a better light. “Apology accepted.”

For a few seconds, you just stand there, feeling the air turn more awkward by the second. “Um –”

“Do you need the way back?” Chan interrupts, a knowing glint in his eye.

By all the spirits, why did you have to meet him when you were lost at the shrine? Now he thinks you’re bad with directions, which you swear you’re really not, you just hadn’t been at the shrine long enough to figure it out.

Embarrassment creeps up your skin as Chan’s smirk grows. “… Yes.”

(And, okay, the forest guardian is a little infuriating and you find yourself wanting to hit him several times on the way back. But really, he isn’t that bad. Though you’d rather die than let him know you think that of him.)

. . .

Chan comes back the next day. You don’t expect him there, especially because he never visits the shrine more than one day in a row, but he surprises you with a smile and the offer of a walk.

“This isn’t your plan for killing a sword-bearer without anyone finding out, is it?” you ask, raising a nonplussed eyebrow as you follow the guardian out of the shrine. You’re not sure why, but it’s so easy to fall into banter with Chan the way you used to joke around with the other knights in the Guard.

Chan snorts. “As a centuries-old guardian of the forest, wouldn’t you think I’d have a little more wisdom than to kill you after several people at the shrine witnessed you leaving with me?”

You very visibly keep a hand on your sword just in case.

“So why did you invite me on a walk?” you ask after several moments. Chan’s bare feet are silent against the grass, but your boots make slightly louder thumps as you step over stones and fallen branches. “I know it wasn’t because of my scintillating personality.”

He stops walking. “I’ve heard you used to be a knight,” he says bluntly. “I wanted to know what kind of sword-bearer you were to leave such a prestigious position and even befriend Changbin, of all people.”

“What’s wrong with befriending Changbin?” you ask, desperately dodging the first part of Chan’s implied questions. “You make it sound like he hates… sword-bearers. He literally dragged me away after I beat up a bunch of men in an alley with my sword so he could clean the one wound I got on my shoulder.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Chan nods. “He saw you do good things with your blade.”

“… Yes?”

“Sword-bearers killed the girl he loved,” Chan explains. “Well, archers, really, but swords were involved.”

You swallow. That explains his wandering tendencies. “Oh. Who sent them?”

“The king of Adment.”

The title brings a scowl to your face. “Oh, him.” You spit. “That would explain it.”

Chan looks at you curiously. “You hold a grudge towards him as well?”

“He was never the friendliest to my kingdom,” is your brief reply before diverting the topic again. “So, is that also the reason you hate sword-bearers in your forest?”

“Whenever sword-bearers trespass, they almost always bring destruction.” Chan’s face turns hard. “I’ve learned not to take chances.”

The ages-old anger in his eyes speaks of a wisdom far older than the youthful form Chan takes. You narrow your eyes. “How old are you, exactly? You said centuries, but how many?”

He smirks, though there’s something weary in his gaze. “I’ve been alive for over a millennium.”

“What?”

“I can tell you more about that another day,” he says, teasing. You want to complain that he can’t leave you on a cliffhanger like that, but the sun is beginning to set, and you have things to do at the shrine. “Do you need an escort?”

You resist the urge to punch him, forest guardian or no. “I’m not that bad with directions,” you grouse. “You just caught me on a bad day. I can find my way back.”

He walks you back to the shrine anyway. And day by day, after every conversation you have, he walks you back as well.

Kevin, when you meet him in the garden, remarks that you seem more cheerful after a few weeks. “You look like you’re anticipating something exciting,” he clarifies when you only dignify him with a confused glance. His lips curl into a smirk. “Something about Chan?”

Kevin probably expects you to hit him or roll your eyes, maybe say something snappy in response. Instead, your face only drops as the meaning of his words hits you.

Do you feel something for Chan?

Well, you love to hear about his life. There are some really exciting stories he’s had after living so long. He’s also pleasant to hang around, and you enjoy talking to him.

It’s just curiosity, nothing romantic, you tell yourself. There’s no attraction. Just a slight friendship, maybe. Nothing more.

Nothing like what you felt for Jacob.

“Y/N – hey, Y/N!”

You blink to see Kevin staring at you in concern. “Are you all right? You zoned out for a minute.”

No, definitely nothing like Jacob. You try to smile at Kevin, pushing thoughts of blond hair and kind eyes out of your mind. That’s stupid – you would never let yourself be swayed so badly again. “I’m fine,” you say, hoping you’re telling the truth. “Let’s go get dinner, yeah?”

. . .

As the weeks pass, you begin to wonder just how much was truthful in what Kevin said.

Walks with Chan have become a regular occurrence, now. When he shows up at the shrine entrance every other afternoon, someone immediately calls for you.

And the worst thing is, you feel excited when you hear your name being called, when you’re with the children or scrubbing dishes or working in the garden. Everyone around gives you a knowing glance and maybe a teasing smile as you rush to see the forest guardian.

One part of you wants it. You want to be able to freely enjoy these walks, feeling the soft earth beneath your boots as you listen to Chan speak. The forest itself is interesting – he shows you the overgrown faerie ring, the water nymph’s pond and the accompanying willow tree – but you think his stories are even more intriguing. You like hearing Chan’s voice. You think you’d like to keep hearing it.

The other part of you doesn’t want this, though, doesn’t want the budding warmth that you feel with the forest guardian, even as the months begin to grow colder. It’s not that it doesn’t feel nice – in fact, this is precisely because it does feel nice. Too nice. You’re starting to feel a stirring in your heart that reminds you of how you felt for Jacob. Though it’s small, very small, it’s there – you can recognize it from the years of heartache you spent watching Jacob fall in love with someone else.

You don’t want that again with Chan.

It shames you to want to run away again, to run away from a place that has provided you with so much comfort in the months past. You love the children, truly, and the friends you’ve made are wonderful. You’ve even started giving Juyeon lessons with your sword. But what other course of action is there? There’s no reason a forest guardian with so many centuries of wisdom would fall for a young, naïve human like you. Here, a love story is even more impossible than one with Jacob.

The decision curdles in your stomach, fills your throat with bitter, hot shame, but it’s necessary, you tell yourself. Better to cut everything off right now, before your emotions grow out of control.

You’re not that important to the shrine, really. You’ve only been there a few months. They’ll survive without you.

You just can’t go through the pain you felt with Jacob ever again.

. . .

You debate avoiding Chan. If he were human, you might actually have chosen that path. But just like you couldn’t avoid Jacob when you fell in love – you were too close, he definitely would’ve noticed – you can’t avoid Chan. He’s the forest’s guardian – he’ll know you’re purposely trying not to be found.

So you decide to cut things off on one of your walks. It feels so simple in your mind – get away from the shrine, then tell him you’re leaving. He won’t care, you tell yourself. It won’t matter to him. And as much as the thought hurts, it’s the better option.

It should be easy, really. Chan gives you the perfect opening – “Why do you look so sad today?” he asks, stopping you by Hyunjin’s pond. The nymph himself doesn’t appear, which you’re very thankful for.

Well, no time like the present. You steel yourself. “I’m going to leave the shrine.”

Chan’s face switches expressions several times within seconds. You watch, feeling a sick sense of dread and relief pooling in your stomach. It’s out there. You’ve said it.

But spirits, why does he look so upset? So angry?

Like you mean something to him?

“Why?” he finally asks.

“Well,” you stammer, his unprecedented reaction sending all of the rehearsed words flying out of your mind, “I – I’ve overstayed my welcome, haven’t I? I’ve been here for months already, and I’ve used the shrine’s hospitality long enough.” His incredulous expression sparks indignation in your chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you realize how much you do for the shrine?” he snaps. His footsteps, usually so silent, pound on the earth as he steps up to you. “You think you’ve overstayed your welcome – do you know how much I – how much the shrine needs you now?”

How much I?

How much I need you?

How much Chan needs me?

Slip of the tongue. You shake your head, trying your best to ignore it. “All I do is help with the children, work with Kevin in the garden! Chan, I’m easily replaceable – I’m just a poor traveler who was fortunate enough to find the shrine! I’m lucky that you’ve all been so welcoming, but really, it’s time for me to move on.”

“And what about the children? Your friends?” He crosses his arms. “What about me?”

“They’ll live!” you snap. “And what do you mean, what about you?”

Chan growls under his breath. “Are you really trying to say that I mean nothing to you?”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, like that time Jacob accidentally rammed you in the stomach with the pommel of a sword.

So… not a slip of the tongue.

“Why does it matter that you mean something to me when I don’t mean anything to you?” you finally say.

“And here I thought you were smart,” Chan snaps.

Anger flares in your chest. “I’m serious, Chan! Why would I ever think I meant something to you?” You gesture wildly at the expanse of trees surrounding you. “You’re a millennia-old guardian of a forest of magic. I’m a human who ended up here out of luck. Why, even if I ever felt anything for you, would you feel anything for me? What have I done to merit your attention?”

Chan’s eyes soften slightly. “So many things.”

Taken aback, you flail for words. “Elaborate.”

“You’re a sword-bearer. A kind sword-bearer. A sword-bearer Changbin trusts, enough to divulge his name and travel with for almost a year. A sword-bearer he believed was pure enough of heart to find the shrine – and don’t stop me there, if he hadn’t thought you would be able to find it, he wouldn’t have told you of its existence.” Chan stares at you with that same soft look, that soft look that pierces your heart and makes you feel guilty, so guilty, because you’re not as good, not as kind, not as pure as he thinks you are. “You carved your place in the shrine the first day you spent there. Without anyone asking, you took care of the children and helped Kevin in the garden. You did everything you could to give the children a bit of the love they never might’ve experienced otherwise and protected them from a threat you knew nothing of, something that could have torn you to pieces if you weren’t as trained as you were. You –”

“Stop.”

Chan looks at you, confused. “What –”

“I’m not – I’m not even near the brave person you’re describing,” you snap, tears starting to well in your eyes. “Stop talking about me like I’m some – some spirits-damned martyr, or something –”

“But –”

“And even if I was this, this noble and amazing person you think I am,” you interrupt, tears fighting to slip past your eyes, “how many other men and women at the shrine are the same? Kind, gentle, whatever you want to use to describe me? I’m not special, Chan. I’ve never been.”

Jacob didn’t think you were, at least.

“Y/N, why – just – did you not hear anything I just said about you?” Chan tries to take your hand, but you shy away, pretending the hurt in his eyes doesn’t send knives into your chest. “You earned the trust of a moon child haunted by those who carry blades in a matter of months. Those at the shrine took years to gain his full acceptance. You proved me wrong about sword-bearers. You showed me you were fearless, brave, kind – you are special, Y/N,” he insists, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’ve shown me that, shown me so much –”

“Stop.”

Your chest is heaving, the tears have spilled out, and you’re fighting for breath. It hurts, it hurts so much that Chan thinks this much of you, but all you are is a coward running away your feelings. “You don’t know,” you gasp, “you don’t know what kind of a person I am. I’m not what you see. How can you –” you angrily brush a tear away – “how can you not see that?”

“Then tell me,” Chan says. “Tell me why you’re so different. Convince me.”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to convince him, you want him to always have that beautiful image of you in his mind – a brave, gentle knight dedicated to protecting those who cannot defend themselves. But he deserves the truth.

And the truth is that you are a coward.

“I left my kingdom because I was in love with my best friend,” you spit. “He married the queen, and I couldn’t do anything but watch. I left because I couldn’t stand to see them so happy together, knowing I would only be on the sidelines of their love for the rest of my life. I left because I couldn’t bring myself to tell him how I felt, couldn’t bring myself to clear the air. I left because I wanted to run away instead of facing my problems, Chan! And even when I knew Jacob would always welcome me back with open arms, even during my darkest moments, I still chose to run away! I chose to find the shrine instead of letting my feelings go and reconciling with my friend. I chose to find the shrine and run away a second time because I couldn’t stand to face him again when I was the one who chose to leave.” A choked sob escapes your lips. “And now I’m running away again, because I thought you could never care for me in the way I’m beginning to care for you. Only you apparently do, but I can’t just stay here and let you love this perfect, noble character who doesn’t exist.”

Silence fills the air. Surely the birds are chirping, the leaves rustling, but you can’t hear anything over the pathetic sounds of you trying to control your tears.

“So now you know,” you croak. “You know the truth behind the coward this knight really is.”

You can’t even meet Chan’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Chan finally says. “For a knight, you’re an awful coward.”

His words stab you in the chest.

“Courage doesn’t constitute running away.”

You can feel the blood dripping out of your heart.

“It means facing your challenges head on, doing what you must.”

You clench your teeth, resolutely looking down at your feet. It’s the truth, you tell yourself. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. It’s the truth.

Then Chan’s trousers enter your vision. You stiffen, ready to back away, but Chan’s already tilting your chin up with one gentle finger so that you’re staring into his eyes. “But you’re brave, Y/N,” he murmurs. “You’re brave when it comes to protecting others, defending the innocent from those who would bring harm.” A small smile curves his lips. “You’re just not too good at protecting yourself.”

You burst into tears. And this time, when Chan presses you into his chest, letting you inhale his woodsy smell of fresh grass and sunlight, you don’t pull away.

. . .

“You don’t have to run away from attachment,” Chan tells you on the walk back to the shrine. “You don’t have to run away from familiarity, from caring about people. We care about you, truly. The children would be heartbroken if you left. So would Kevin and Juyeon and everyone else.” He gives you a gentle smile. “I would be, too.”

Keeping his words in mind, you put away your thoughts of leaving the shrine and try to open your eyes to how much people actually enjoy your presence. Some days, when the self-loathing rises and you don’t want to do anything but run away, it’s hard.

But Chan always finds you, if not the same day, then the day after. He takes you into the woods and tells stories until your sides ache from laughter and the sparkle – or so he tells you – is back in your eyes. With his slow, careful help, you begin to see the small, but visible effects you have on the shrine.

Eric’s and Chaeryeong’s eyes light up when you walk into the room. Sunwoo and Yuna fight for your attention. Juyeon’s calm face breaks into a smile when you show up for his daily swordplay practice, and Kevin laughs with abandon when you crack jokes in the garden. They’re small things, but you realize that leaving the shrine would’ve caused a lot more damage – to you and to them – that you didn’t realize before.

So you cement your place in the shrine, throwing yourself into the daily life of the place you’ve tentatively begun to think of as something deeper than a mere shelter. Juyeon’s interest in swordplay gives you the idea to begin training some of the girls and boys in defense. The priestesses agree after a little convincing – after all, you argue, even if the shrine isn’t threatened very often, dangers like the screech owl crop up every now and then. And if anyone decides to leave the shrine in the future and make their own life, defense could be a very useful skill.

Chan embraces your idea with more warmth than you’d imagine, given his aversion to sword-bearers. When you ask him about it, he just gives you that teasing smile that infuriates and calms you. “I trust you, don’t I?” His smile turns gentler. “You’re a good, brave sword-bearer. I think you’ll be able to keep your pupils from going… astray.”

You certainly do your best. Over several years of training, you watch Juyeon, Kevin, Yeji, and Lia grow into formidable opponents. Sunwoo takes more of an interest in archery after you fashion him a crude bow and arrow, practicing with the (kind of terrible) weapons until you buy him proper set in town.

Life goes on, and it goes well. Shrine life is peaceful as new residents enter – the newest resident, Haknyeon, is adorable – and you grow into yourself as the months go by. Chan never presses his feelings, only treats you the same way he always did until you’re ready to accept his care.

“Are you sure?” he asks when you tell him, eyes sparkling with hope and love and uncertainty all at once.

Your heart blossoms with love for the forest guardian. “Yes.” You smile. “I think I love myself enough to allow you to love me too.”

His lips taste like spring, like golden sunlight filtered through verdant leaves. Pressed against his chest, you feel safe, delicate in the touch of his fingers splayed gently across your back, strong in the warmth of his arms around your waist.

Oh, Chan makes you feel loved, loved in a way that slowly erases the self-loathing you’ve carried for so long, in a way that makes you feel brave enough to remain standing with each passing day. And even though you’ve still got a long way to go, you take comfort in the knowledge that Chan, your forest guardian, will always be there for you.

. . . . .

News doesn’t come often to the small village just outside the forest, so when there’s gossip that doesn’t pertain to the whereabouts about one villager or another, it’s worth listening to. This time, it’s a kingdom at war with another.

“Which kingdoms?” you ask idly, examining an apple.

“One is Adment,” the shopkeeper replies. You snort, a sentiment he laughs with. “Which was the other, honey?” he yells to his wife in the back of the stall.

“Was it Callia?” she yells back.

You don’t laugh when the apple drops from your hand.

Trying not to visibly show your distress, you wave off the shopkeeper’s worry at your expression and hurry to finish the shopping. To your luck, when you make it back to the shrine, Chan is already there, conversing with one of the priestesses.

“Y/N!” His smile drops slightly when he takes in your expression. The priestess quietly excuses herself. “Did something happen?”

“Callia – Callia is at war with Adment.” You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Jacob’s kingdom. At war with the one that killed Changbin’s love.”

Chan’s face turns hard. “I see.”

“I – I feel like I need to do something.” You gaze at him, begging him to understand everything you can’t put into words. “Chan, I feel like I have to go back and help, somehow.”

Chan’s eyes are gentle but unreadable as he grasps your hand firmly in his. “You should do what you think is right,” he says quietly.

What I think is right.

What do I think is right?

Your mind races with panic, but one thought emerges, crystal clear in certainty.

“Yes,” you whisper, more to yourself than Chan. “I’ll do what is right.”

. . .

The priestesses give you their blessing to return to the kingdom you used to call home. Juyeon, Kevin, Lia, and Sunwoo volunteer to come with you as well, even though you try to dissuade them repeatedly with how dangerous it’ll be. They could die, you stress – this is war, after all. But they insist.

You put off saying goodbye to Chan until the day before you leave. He’s the one who finds you, actually – he has something to say, apparently, before you go.

It feels so strange, walking with Chan through the forest with the knowledge that you may never come back. It’s not like you’re a stranger to the evils of war – every time you rode into battle as a knight, you knew there was a high likelihood that you would die.

But it’s different, now. Jacob and your fellow Guards knew the risks of war – you were all seasoned fighters, trained in tactics and stealth and strategy. Here, you only have a very small group of fighters – reasonably good for the amount of training they’ve had, but lacking in true experience. They won’t understand the true horror of battle until they’ve experienced it themselves.

There’s something else, too. You’re leaving behind someone you love for the first time, someone who cannot come and fight by your side.

“Can I go first?” you ask, stopping by Hyunjin’s pond. You want to see the still waters one more time before you leave.

Chan nods. “Of course.”

“I…” You look down, mustering your courage. “I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

For a moment, there’s just silence. Then a sudden flush spreads across Chan’s cheeks.

It bolsters your confidence. “I know I don’t say it often,” you continue, enjoying the shyness on your guardian’s face, “but I really do. I wanted you to know that I’m not going off to help Jacob’s kingdom because I love him the way I used to, but because I still care about him as a friend.” You gaze into Chan’s clear eyes. “I love you very much, and I wanted to tell you that before I left.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I never thought you were going to war out of romantic love for Jacob,” he says quietly. “You don’t need to worry about that, ever. I trust you.”

Your heart explodes with warmth. “So what is it that you had to tell me?”

“I never told you how forest guardians are chosen, did I?” Chan asks.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Well, sit down, and I’ll tell you now.” He smiles. “It’s a long story.”

Chan tells you of his first life as an oread, a mountain spirit settled in the craggy cliffs not too far from the forest. He tells you of the last guardian before him, a teasing fae named Jaebum.

“A fae?” you interrupt. “Isn’t that… not a good idea?” As lovely as Han and his lady are – you’ve met them several times by now – you wouldn’t exactly call him a suitable guardian. You’d say the same and more for his more sinister counterparts.

“Jaebum was different,” Chan says. “He cared deeply for the forest. After the two centuries I knew him, he found someone to love, to grow old with over time. He asked me to be forest guardian after he died.”

“So the current forest guardian chooses the next when they feel their time is over?” you clarify.

Chan nods, gazing into your eyes. “Yes.”

And all of a sudden, you understand.

“Chan, you –” You have to clear away the emotion rising in your throat. “You want to pass on the guardianship for me? To whom?”

“I’ve spoken to Changbin.” Chan smiles. “He was very receptive to the idea.”

“But – Chan, for me?” The old uncertainty starts to plague your mind. “Chan, I’m just… I’m just me.”

“Exactly.” Chan takes your hands in his. “You’re you. And I want to grow old with you. Live life with you. Don’t try to argue with me – this is something I know I want.”

You can’t even speak through the tears running down your face. “Chan –”

“Come here.” He wraps you in his warm arms. “I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

For how long you stay there, crying into Chan’s embrace, you don’t know. By the time you’re coherent enough to pull back, it feels like it’s been an eternity.

“So now you have to come back.” Chan smiles, though you can see a glimmer of fear, of uncertainty in his gaze. “You have to stay safe and come back for me, all right?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin suddenly appears from the pond and you literally shriek, toppling backwards onto the grass. “You have to come back to Chan, or he’ll mope around for millennia and send the forest into ruin.” The nymph smirks, though you can see real concern hidden in his eyes.

“Like you moped for centuries over your cloud nymph?” Chan retorts, lips curved in an exasperated smile.

Hyunjin sniffs. “Details,” he says haughtily, already sinking back into his pool. He sends you a glance, though, that’s full of meaning.

You must come back. Don’t leave Chan waiting.

You make a silent promise that you won’t.

. . .

The next day, your cohort wakes up early. After yawning through a quick breakfast, you quickly gather your belongings and meet up at the front of the shrine. Several of the priestesses cluck over you like mother hens checking on their chicks, and you dutifully take their warnings and cautions with as light a smile as you can muster.

Chan shows up just as you’re about to go. The others thankfully leave you two alone for a bit (though you scowl at Kevin’s smirk and Lia’s whistle).

You don’t talk much, just stay wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes. Eventually, though, dawn breaks. It’s time to leave.

“Be brave,” Chan whispers as you pull away.

You smile. “I’ll come back.”

With one last kiss that tastes of spring greenery, you leave the shrine. When you look back, Chan’s already disappeared.

. . .

It’s a long two years spent away from the shrine. The pace is difficult on your friends, who have only known the shrine as a home for so many years. For you, it’s a bit easier – you’ve been a traveler for a good few years, and it doesn’t take too long to settle back into the wanderer’s mindset, moving around, never staying in one place too long.

But they don’t complain. They’re strong, resilient, and resourceful – more so, really, than some of the knights you knew on the Guard. With their help, you launch quiet strikes at the border of Adment and Callia, taking down Adment’s forces small legion by small legion. Your group becomes known for your silent ambushes, though you take care to keep your identities hidden.

It’s like being a knight again on a smaller scale – planning attacks and carrying them out, knowing that you might lose your life or your friends along the way. It isn’t entirely unwelcome. Fighting still gives you that adrenaline rush, that grim, satisfying knowledge that you’re doing something to protect the people you love.

At the same time, though, it isn’t as fulfilling as it used to be. This life of fighting battles isn’t for you anymore. Yes, you will fight to defend, but you’ve found other ways to protect your loved ones, too.

It just cements the fact that you don’t think you’ll ever come back to Callia to stay.

Finally, Adment surrenders. You’re glad, truly – you’re ready to return to the shrine, as are your friends. As you begin the trek back through some of the rural villages, though, a few posters catch your eye. They spell out a request for the unknown border attackers to come forth to the palace and be honored for their aid in the war.

They know your story, Lia, Juyeon, Kevin, Sunwoo. It was only fair that you told them – how could you lead them to possible death without knowing why you came in the first place, why this was so important to you?

So you ask them. “Do you want to reveal yourselves?”

“I don’t think it’s a question of us,” Juyeon says quietly. “It’s about you.”

“Yes,” Lia echoes. “We’ll follow you, whatever you decide.”

Their trust still astounds you, even after so many years spent trying to dilute the self-loathing that used to plague your brain. “Give me a day to think,” you eventually say. “If you say you’ll follow me, I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

You stay up all night, debating. Your friends have already spent so long away from their home, fighting a war on your behalf. Is it worth it to take the extra few weeks spent traveling to and from the palace? Would it be fair to ask them to journey with you for even longer?

No, Y/N. You shake your head. They asked you to decide, which means they want a decision based on your feelings, on your desires. They’re kind enough to know that this must be your choice to make.

You sigh, leaning back against a sturdy tree. Why are you so hesitant about seeing Jacob again, anyway? You don’t love him anymore, not the way you used to. It doesn’t hurt you as much to think of him. Spirits, you even came all this way to help him in a war you weren’t even involved in.

Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll fall in love with him again, a tiny voice in your head suggests. Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll want to stay.

Oh.

That’s probably it.

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you sigh again. You love Chan. You love the shrine. You’ve realized that fighting battles as a knight isn’t the way you want to spend the rest of your life. But you’re still afraid that seeing Jacob again will awaken feelings for him once more.

Wait. You sit up, frowning into the darkness. For your feelings to awaken, they would still have to exist.

You don’t love Jacob anymore. The thought of him doesn’t make your heart thump anymore, doesn’t choke your throat with emotions anymore.

Logically, rationally, seeing him again wouldn’t hurt the way it used to.

But love isn’t rational, the oh-so-helpful part of your mind pipes up.

You scowl. Stop making this decision harder.

As the fire dies to glowing coals, as your friends quietly snore throughout the night (except Sunwoo, he snores very loudly), you sit there, mind warring with fear.

By morning, you’ve made your decision.

. . .

The palace is almost the same as you remembered – high, polished stone walls surrounded by a bustling marketplace and lush gardens. The grass looks a bit wilted and the market chatter sounds subdued, but the kingdom has just gone through a war. You would be more worried, really, if everything looked exactly as beautiful as it used to be.

Anxiety bursts in your chest as you slip through the crowds, face covered in a scarf, getting closer and closer to the palace. Three of the Guard stand sentinel at front gates, and even though you’re too far away to see their faces, you’re sure you’d recognize at least a couple of them up close.

“Breathe,” Kevin whispers helpfully next to you. “You’ll be fine.”

You nod shakily. “Yeah.”

Two of the Guard cross their spears over the gates as you approach. The third steps forward, meeting your gaze.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of an old friend. Changmin!

“State your business,” Changmin says, eyes unmoved. It stings a little that he doesn’t recognize you, but it’s understandable. You’ve both changed over the years – you’ve grown out your hair, while he’s cut his shorter, and he’s lost the last baby fat from his cheeks – and you have a scarf covering half of your face.

“I have business with the king,” you reply, heart hammering in your chest. “I believe my presence was specifically requested, along with that of my friends from the border.”

Faint recognition lights Changmin’s eyes, though they also narrow in slight confusion. He looks at you for a second, gaze piercing yours.

“Is something wrong?” you ask. “We can leave our weapons at the gates, if you wish.”

Changmin shakes his head, shoulders slumped in resignation. “No, I just thought you sounded like someone I once knew.” He looks down. “She had a sword like yours, too.”

Your heart hammers at your old friend’s words. What would he say if he did know it was you?

His voice cuts through your panicked thoughts. “May I have a name by which to introduce you to His Majesty?”

Last chance, you tell yourself. Last chance to turn back.

You won’t lie – the choice sounds appealing, at least to your pounding heart. Glancing up at the high stone walls, you feel the old urge to run away.

You could. You could turn away from the gates right now, leave Changmin remembering someone who will never return. You could travel back to the shrine and forget this ever happened.

But Chan told you to be brave. And being brave doesn’t only apply to war.

You pull down your scarf, smiling at the incredulous expression spreading over Changmin’s face. “You can tell him an old friend’s come back to visit.”

. . .

After yelling at you for never visiting and punching you at least ten times (your arm is so, so sore, but as he reminds you, you should just be glad he didn’t challenge you to a duel right then and there), Changmin brings you into one of the waiting rooms. “I’ll find you and bite you if I come back and see that you’ve disappeared again,” he threatens before heading back into the halls.

Sunwoo raises an eyebrow, looking mildly disturbed. “Bite you?”

You snort, smiling widely. “Long story.”

Too soon, though, there’s another set of footsteps echoing outside of the room. The smile slowly starts to slip off your face, and your heart, previously calmed by Changmin’s characteristic welcome, starts to pound again.

Be brave. Chan’s voice speaks in your mind. Be brave.

You steel yourself.

Then Jacob appears in the doorway, and the room feels like it’s falling away.

. . .

By the time your mind has caught up to the present, you’re wrapped in Jacob’s strong arms, in one of those Jacob hugs that you used to yearn for every day. It’s comforting, warm, but to your pleasant surprise, there’s no hurt. No pain.

You only feel happy.

“You came back,” Jacob whispers, more to himself than to you. “You came back.”

You just laugh, squeezing your best friend harder. “I did.”

Thankfully, your friends understand that you need some time with Jacob alone. Changmin leads them out, already bickering with Sunwoo (how they became friends so quickly, you’re not sure you want to know). In the silence of the room, you and Jacob just stare at each other for a moment.

“I –”

“What –”

You burst into laughter and Jacob joins in, feeling heady with absolute bliss and relief that your worst fears haven’t been realized. You haven’t fallen back in love with Jacob at first sight. His mere presence doesn’t make you want to stay.

“You first,” Jacob finally says when you’ve calmed down. “You first.”

The laughter disappears from your throat as your smile dims. “I never told you the full reason why I left.”

Jacob is a good listener, a fact that you’re grateful for. If he’d interrupted you at any point, you aren’t sure you would’ve been able to continue. Still, though, it’s harrowing, recounting the love you felt for your best friend for so long.

“When I left the first time, I didn’t have any intention of returning.” You state the harsh truth with a bitter taste in your mouth. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about what I felt, so seeing you only hurt. I didn’t… I didn’t want to feel any more pain.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Jacob’s eyes are cloudy, filled with pain on your behalf. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known…”

“Stop.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “One reason I didn’t tell you was because I knew you’d blame yourself. It isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

Jacob sits in silence for a moment. “But you did come back.”

“I did.” A small smile curves your lips. “I found a place that took me in, allowed me to try and find myself once more. I found someone who helped me heal. So when I heard about the war, I didn’t have qualms about coming to help. It was something… I knew it was something I had to do.”

Jacob’s eyes clear. “I see. Your someone, your, um…”

“Husband,” you offer. It’s the closest thing to what Chan is to you that Jacob would understand.

He nods. “Your husband didn’t come?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I came with friends. We have our own things to protect, back at home.”

Home. That word surprises you as it leaves your lips. Home.

The forest, the shrine is your home.

It’s the first time you’ve made this connection. With the realization, a sudden burst of warmth fills your chest.

“I see.” Jacob leans forward, looking genuinely happy for you. “Things are going well, then?”

Briefly, you wonder if you should tell him about the shrine. You decide not to. That’s your secret to keep, at least for now.

“Yes, they are.” A smile involuntarily spreads across your face. “Very well.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit in comfortable silence. Then Jacob speaks. “Can I persuade you again to stay?” he asks, though from the look in his eye, you’re pretty sure he already knows your answer. “You can bring your husband and friends. There will always be a place for you here.”

It feels like you’re being thrown back in time to that day in the training room, just a few months before you left. Your answer is still the same as it was then, so many years ago.

But you have something else to add.

You shake your head. “Not this time, Jacob.” Your smile grows smaller, but softer. “Though I do promise I’ll visit you again.”

. . .

On the horses Jacob gifted you, it only takes a few weeks to return to the forest. You see the children and the priestesses first, waiting at the front of the shrine, followed by the other maidens and messenger boys. Their shouts of welcome bring a smile to your face.

Then Chan appears when you’re riding up to the gates, crushing you in a hug almost before you’ve leapt off your horse.

You lose yourself in your guardian’s warmth, in the strength of his arms wrapped around your body. It feels so similar to Jacob’s hugs, so comforting and soft and strong, but also so uniquely Chan. You laugh into his chest, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“I’m back,” you gasp between the tears. “I’m back, Chan.”

“I know,” he whispers, only holding you closer. “I know.”

A blissful eternity passes, wrapped in Chan’s arms, until he pulls back the slightest bit, just enough to press a long-awaited kiss on your lips. “You’re back,” he says one more time, as though he still can’t quite believe it.

“I am,” you confirm. “I did it, Chan.”

He knows. He knows, looking into your eyes, what you mean by “it.” He knows you don’t just mean that you fought Adment, that you came home alive. He knows there’s something more.

Something involving a certain past love.

Warm, warm pride blooms in Chan’s eyes. “Were you brave?”

Memories race through your mind – staunching bloody wounds, trekking through the forests at the border – but you know that isn’t what Chan means. He knows you can be brave in the midst of battle, brave in protecting those you love the most.

He wants to know if you were brave with him.

Your eyes twinkle as you remember the palace gates, seeing Changmin again, landing in Jacob’s arms once more. You remember his soft voice, his kind eyes full of real, platonic care, a memory you’ll treasure for years to come.

Where you once might have grimaced at the thought of your old home, now, the smile on your face only broadens with every passing second.

“Yes.” Your laughing gaze sparkles into Chan’s proud eyes. “I was.”

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itslieutenanthawkeye · 3 years

Text

The meadow, the river and him.

Day 5 of Jeankasa Week 2021: Angst

AO3

Mikasa reflects on her love before letting him know of big news

His body jolts in his sleep, which seems like an unnatural thing to do in the middle of the quiet, sunlit meadow. We were lulled to sleep by the birds in the trees merely ten minutes ago, and the nightmares are haunting him again. It’s not a strange occurrence for both us around this time of season, when summer begins to die.

I turn over in his arms and kiss his right cheek, while one of my hands combs back his hair. I take a moment to stare; he really is beautiful. The perfect lines of his face, the stubble on his chin, his nose, his lips, it is all so beautiful that -at the very beginning of our relationship, when the threads of love hadn’t been weaved together yet- I used to wonder what was it about me that had caught his eye for so long.

Jean stirs in his sleep again, mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over. We’ve barely slept the past few days and as much as I want him to rest, I can’t see him suffer for much longer. I sit up, lean over his face, and place a kiss on his lips, tapping gently on his cheek.

“Mikasa?” He always says my name upon waking up; he’s always looking for my presence both in his sleep and reality. With time I learned how much I also longed to look for him, how wonderful it felt to say his name and have him reply with a loving smile and a kiss.

“I’m here,” I say, making shooshing noises as I kiss his neck. “You were having a nightmare.”

Jean rubs the back of my head, breathing much more easily. “It was an awful nightmare,” he says shakily. “Come here, look at me.”

I settle into his arms like a bird into its nest, hugging his chest while locking eyes with him. Years ago, I thought that my home had burned with the destruction of the world. But now his arms are home, a new, sweet, love-infused home I never want to leave.

“What was the nightmare about?” I ask after a moment of silence.

“Lay back,” he requests sweetly. I lie on the blanket, which is still warm despite being under the shade of a tree. He climbs on top of me, and I wait for him to start taking off my red dress, or for his hands to explore beneath my underpants. But all Jean does is press his head against my chest, leaning against my left breast.

“Honey, what is it?” I ask again, putting both of my hands on his head, enjoying the scent of his shampoo.

He looks up at me after a while. “Your heartbeat,” he says; his voice is shaking, his eyes have the glint of tears in them. “I want to make sure you’re one hundred percent here.”

“Jean, I’m alive,” I say, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I’m alive and I’m all yours, alright? Forget that nightmare.”

He hugs me, burying his face between my breasts in a position that, thirty minutes ago, I would’ve found arousing. But seeing him tear up from his bad dreams only stirs the protective instinct in me. I understand his fears when it comes to losing me, for I fear the same thing. He’s a proper man now, stronger than when he was a teenager and a great ambassador for peace. And yet, all I want to do is protect him, keep in between my arms for the rest of our days, out of harm’s way.

“Mikasa,” he sobs, lifting his face to look at me again. “It was a really awful dream.”

“It’s over now,” I say, grabbing his face to kiss him for a long minute. “It wasn’t real. You’re with me, and it’s really warm, and we should go take a dip in the river.”

“The worst nightmares I have are about losing you,” he whimpers. “I’m always okay when I realize you’re still here with me.”

Jean kisses me again, pressing his naked torso against me. My hands travel the muscles in his back; he’s so perfectly well built, almost chiseled by hand. I’ve never been one to fall for someone for his looks, but I have never denied that his beautiful body caught my eye long before I even thought of him as a lover, as anything other than a good friend.

“I love you, Jean,” I whisper, kissing his cheeks, lips, and forehead. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, Mikasa,” he whispers back as I use my fingers to wipe the remaining tears on his face. “I love you so much, that sometimes I’m scared that the nightmares are the real world, and this is just an illusion.”

“It isn’t.” I say firmly. “This is real life. You and me, that is real life. The bad things are behind us.”

“I love you, gorgeous.”

“I love you too, handsome.” I say, giving him the sweet smile that was born at the same time as my love for him was. Not once I thought I would smile and laugh this often, and this sincerely. “I love you so, so very much.”

We stay in silence for a long time, wallowing in the love we have for each other. His breathing steadies, and I know that he’s past the initial terror from his nightmare when he looks up at me with a shy smirk. “You mentioned the river, didn’t you? I thought you didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

“I didn’t.” I say, smiling cheekily.

“That means you and I get to go skinny dipping.”

“That’s precisely why I didn’t bring any bathing suit.” I say, kissing him again.

Jean helps me undo the buttons of my dress. We’re well accustomed to each other’s bodies by now. I still remember us not being able to keep our hands off each other the first couple of weeks after our first night together…although that hasn’t changed much, I think as he kisses the length of my back while squeezing my breasts. “Swimming, lover boy,” I remind him, tilting my head to the side so he can kiss my neck. “We’re going swimming first.”

“Sorry,” Jean says. Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling.

We finish removing our clothes and dip into the river holding each other’s hands. The water is cool on my skin; the heatwaves at the end of summer have become worse after the rumbling, so Jean and I have made a bit of a habit of coming here to cool off on our free days. It’s our little corner of the world away from everyone and everything, our quiet paradise.

I dip my head under water, and he does the same. When we come out, the breeze feels fresher.

I have a hope it’ll remain untouched by modernization, a hope I know won’t come true. With all the new trade routes established, and the help coming into Shingashina straight from Hizuru’s mines, I know civilization will extend into our little paradise.

“You’re all serious now,” Jean says, taking a hold of me. I float closer to him, wrap my legs around his waist and my hands around his neck. “What’s on your mind?”

I kiss him. “I’m thinking I don’t want anyone to build a park here…or a factory.”

“It would be harder to go skinny dipping.” He says; we’re both aware of my hardened nipples against his chest, of the thing hardening just between his legs. The swimming won’t go on for long, but that’s alright.

“Want me to buy the place?” Jean asks.

“With whose money?”

“Some people owe me favors in the continent and Hizuru, remember?” Jean says, shrugging with some of the ego that characterized his teenage self, making me giggle. His hands are on my lower back, and it won’t take them long to go further below. “I could ask for a loan…”

“Don’t get yourself into debt for me.” I laugh, kissing him again. “I’m sure they’d give us the money straight up.”

“Alright, then want me to buy this place for you?” Jean says. “We could build a house, right there by the tree. It would be our summer home, away from the city.”

I think about it for a while. “It could be a good place to raise a family,” I say slowly, leaning on his shoulder to examine the quiet meadow, the distant mountains. “A place to grow old in.”

“That apartment will only get us so far.” Jean says, looking at the spot I’m focusing on as well. I know he’s imagining the house, our future. “I mean, when we start having children, we won’t all fit in there.”

“How many children are you trying to get me to have?” I ask, looking up at him, the whole of me aware of his manhood pressing against my entrance, fully awakened now. “Ten? Fifteen?”

He shrugs. “Three will be good. Three is a good number.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Three sounds like a plan.”

I kiss him again, my tongue dipping into his mouth. It’s been a couple of years since we got married, and we only started talking about children a few months ago. I was the one who started the conversations, in fact. I still smile at the memory of his dumbfounded expression as I brought out the subject of children, how his face changed from surprise to elation.

His kisses stray from my mouth to my neck, then finally to my nipples. He takes them in his mouth and runs his tongue over them, while three of his fingers enter me. I tilt my head back, enjoying the movements of his long fingers inside me, my eyes on the blue, cloudless sky above us.

It doesn’t take long for him to carry me back to the blanket under the tree. “So long for the swimming.” I say against his ear.

“We have the whole afternoon.” He replies. “We can dip in later.”

“And what will we do now?”

“Want to get started making the first baby?” He asks as he lays me down. He places himself on top of me; my hands go to his face, and I settle my eyes on him. Cooling off from the heatwave isn’t the only reason why I wanted to come here today.

“About that,” I say, taking a deep breath. “We don’t need to get started at all.”

Jean blinks, confused. “What do you mean? Do you want to wait some more?”

I sigh. “You’re hopeless,” I say, kissing his lips for a moment before whispering. “I’m already pregnant, Jean.”

He looks at me, his eyes filling with tears. But these aren’t tears of despair nor fear. These are happy tears, tears that wash away the pain from the past. It’s the same tears I shed when I realized I was madly, irrevocably in love with him.

“When?” He asks, placing quick kisses on my face. “When did we make it?”

“We’ve been trying every night for months, haven’t we?” I say with a low giggle; his stubble always tickles me when he kisses me like this. But he looks too good with it to ask him to shave it off. “I must be about three, four weeks pregnant, if I’m guessing right.”

“Does my mom know? Does Armin know? Connie?” He asks, not giving me time to answer.

“I sent a letter to Armin and Annie, one to Pieck, one to Reiner,” I say, smiling widely as I put a strand of hair behind his ear. “Your mom knows. Connie knows because he was there when I told your mother.”

“When did you tell her?”

“Just yesterday,” I say, letting another moment go by so he can kiss me. “I wanted to tell you here. This is our spot, after all.”

“When did you find out?” Jean asks; it seems he cannot stop kissing my face.

“About a week ago. I wanted to tell you earlier, but we could never find time to come here.”

“I fucking hate my job, I could’ve known a week ago.” Jean mutters, making me laugh. He looks at me and chuckles as well. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t curse so near the baby.”

Something clicks in him, and he scrambles to stand up, looking terrified. “I’m sorry!” He shouts, startling me. “I’m lying on top of you like a dumbass.”

“Is that bad?” I ask, confused.

“I don’t want to hurt our baby!” He says, pacing back and forth naked. I cover my mouth to giggle lowly; as beautiful as he is, seeing him naked with that silly look on his face makes me laugh like a little kid making fun of an adult. “We need to start getting everything we need. We need to find a doctor to see you. Do you want to give birth in Shingashina? I know Historia will let us in the royal palace if you want something more comfortable.”

“Jean, honey, we have nine months.” I say, feeling my love for him grow bigger, if possible. “We can think about all of that later.”

“I can’t help it,” Jean asks, beaming as he sits next to me. “I’m so fucking excited —sorry, no cursing in front of the baby.”

“The baby won’t mind.” I say. “I’m sure he or she loves you already.”

“You think so?” He says, placing a hand on my lower abdomen. I put my hand on top of his; it’s hard for me to believe life is growing inside me. A life he helped create, a life that will be half his, half mine. “Do you think our baby really loves me already?”

“I’m sure our baby feels the love I have for you, and they love you just as strongly,” I say, nearing my face to his to kiss him. His tongue touches mine again, and we both lie back on the grass, feeling each other’s bodies as our mouths are intertwined. He leans slightly to press half of his weight on my body, grinding his shaft against me. I take a hold of it, placing my legs so one tiny movement will push him inside me.

“Make love to me.” I whisper.

“I don’t wanna hurt the baby.”

“Jean!” I say, rolling my eyes in amusement. “You won’t hurt the baby!”

“How big am I, Mika?” He asks seriously, pulling back.

I cast a glance at his throbbing manhood. “Quite big, yes,” I say, feeling my cheeks heating up. “Which is very nice. I enjoy it very much each time you make love to me.”

“What if I hurt the baby?” He asks, looking genuinely concerned. I stare at him for a long moment, my sweet expression dropping as each second passes. Another moment goes by, and laughter escapes my chest in uncontrollable bouts; it echoes around us and is carried away by the wind.

“You’re such an idiot!” I laugh, covering my mouth as I start snorting. “You and I are going to drop by a bookstore on our way back.”

“The bookstore?” Jean says, blinking in confusion.

“You need to know more anatomy, Jean Kirstein.” I laugh, and he starts laughing with me.

“Alright, I’m an idiot,” he says, putting his hand on my cheek. My laughter dies slowly, but my love for him remains as strong as before. Stronger now, perhaps, after that stupidly naïve comment. “I’ll try my best to learn about pregnancy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was adorable,” I say, kissing his cheek. “We still have two to go, don’t we? So, you’ve got plenty time to learn. But I would like you to read some more about anatomy, please. Didn’t you pay attention to sex ed with Hange?”

“It’s not like they knew much about sex ed,” Jean replies, scrunching up his face at the memory. “Didn’t they spend a whole afternoon talking about their theories on how titans should reproduce? The whole asexual reproduction plant comparison?”

I giggle again, feeling only the smallest twinge of pain from the memory of Hange. Grief never leaves us, not really. It comes and goes, in waves, sometimes as huge as tsunamis, some other times mere undulations on the water.

“Do you want a girl or a boy?” He asks, kissing my breast.

“A girl would be nice.” I say, smiling at him.

“A girl would be great. Can you imagine? A little girl that looks exactly like you but has my talent for singing?” Jean agrees, and I push him playfully.

“Watch it, Kirstein! I’m not a bad singer.”

Jean smiles, brushing hair away from my face while looking at me like I’ve been just weaved out of sunlight. “I’ll buy this place for you, alright? It’ll be our home. Our baby girl is going to grow up here, I’ll teach her how to fish.”

“Things will get busy from now on,” I say. “A baby is a big responsibility.”

“You’ll be the best mom, I just know it,” he assures me, wrapping me in a warm embrace. I close my eyes and hug him back.

“And you’ll be the best dad.” I say, waiting a moment to add. “Handsomest dad, too.”

“And you’ll be the hottest mom around.”

I giggle. “Are you trying to seduce me, Kirstein?”

“All the time, Ackerman.”

Our lips meet again, and we’re lost in each other. To this day, I am grateful for this connection we’ve built out of rubble. His love saved me from the precipice of grief; it told me I was not doomed.

Humans would never rid themselves off their greed for power, their hatred for one another, however, and our experiences during the peace negotiations were proof of that. But ten years have passed, and we have left most of the horrors behind. And although I’m sure that, in the distant future, us humans will simply commit the same crimes against each other again, for now I don’t have to worry about that.

For now, it’s the soft blanket of sunlight that wraps me up every day. For now it’s the promise that, like the change of winter into spring, everything comes alive again…even after it’s been set ablaze. For now, it’s the certainty that things can be good again. For now, all I want is the happiness and hope his love has brought me…no, the happiness and hope our love has brought to each other.

For now it’s just Jean and I, the meadow and the river.

#Jeankasa #Jean x Mikasa #Jean Kirstein #jean kirschtien #eren jaeger #jeankasaweek2021 #Jeankasa Week 2021 #fic #ao3 #fluff #shingeki no kyojin fic #smut

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myenterpriseisparked · 3 years

Text

The Voyager Bunch

Or, Rascals: Voyager Edition

-----

Based on this post

This is dedicated to @jellybeansarecool @bizships @emilie786 @joyful-voyager and @subtle-spock for providing ideas, encouragement, and for generally being really awesome people. Also they are the nicest folks ever. Go follow them.

This ain’t my first fanfiction rodeo, but it is my first Star Trek fanfiction rodeo so I beg for your patience. Also, I am perfectly aware that there are some plot holes in here. This is because I am an animal scientist, not a Starfleet physicist/biologist/whateverist. Swiss cheese also has holes and swiss cheese is good so please consider that.

Click here to read on AO3, if you prefer. Thanks for reading!

-----

Despite having only been a captain for a few years, Kathryn Janeway had seen more unusual occurrences, courtesy of the Delta Quadrant, than most Starfleet captains combined. Some days, she felt a little overwhelmed by the summary of the last three years of experiences. Other days, she was grateful for the callouses such challenges had built over her nerves, preparing her to face even the strangest incidents without panicking.

Today was a day to be grateful, because without having seen everything she had seen, the prospect of her Chief Engineer, Chief of Security, Head Helmsman, and most brilliant Ensign being reverted into child-like versions of themselves would have launched her straight into a spiral of panic.

“How-” Janeway paused for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, “how exactly did this happen?”

“Well, ya see, ‘Lanna and Harry and I were in that shuttle and then this big black thing showed up and we flew into it and there was a big flash and-”

Janeway held a hand up, cutting off the shockingly fast string of prattle. “I think I understand that part, Tom, thank you.” She spoke as gently and patiently as possible. “What I don’t understand is how Tuvok got into this.... predicament.”

She turned toward the tallest of the four children, who stood with his hands behind his back in a way that would have been exactly like Tuvok, if the pre-teen boy weren’t fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and looking around the bridge, open mouthed and starry-eyed. “Tuvok?”

The Vulcan turned toward her. “The shuttle was stuck in the anomaly and the tractor beam wasn’t working, so I rammed my ship into theirs to dislodge it.” Tuvok nearly smiled, which was jarring to see on his features, no matter how much younger he looked. “It worked, but I got sucked into the anomaly too. When we came out the other side, we looked like this.”

He motioned to Tom and B’Elanna, who were standing next to him, both of which appeared to be around the age of 5 or 6. Harry, who looked to be about a year old, was currently tucked into Chakotay’s arms, playing contentedly with the rank bar at the large man’s throat.

Janeway looked the group over, ignoring the humored smiled playing at her first officer’s lips. With a sigh, she turned to the members of her senior officer team that were not currently under the age of 13. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“I would like to run some experiments first, but I am wondering if I can age their DNA back to the correct age in a process similar to the one I used to turn you and Mr. Paris back into humans after the, ah, Warp 10 incident,” The Doctor said.

“That might put their bodies back at the right age,” Kes said, brow furrowing, “but their minds appear to have reverted to their new biological age as well. Will the DNA reversal process fix that?”

The Doctor tilted his head. “I’m unsure. I need more time to research and run simulations.”

Janeway nodded. “Get started on that right away. In the meantime,” she turned back to the children and her commander, “let’s get you four something to eat.”

Neelix jumped to his feet, practically lighting up the room with his enthusiasm. “I’ll fix you kiddos up something real nice!” He dashed over to the door with a wild grin. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll have the best grilled cheese sandwich you’ve ever smelt!” He saluted the whole room and practically bounced out the door.

Janeway glanced over at Chakotay who, for the first time since he had picked up baby Harry, looked nervous. His worried glance met her own and he tilted his head.

“Well,” Chakotay sighed, “hopefully these guys aren’t as picky of eaters as I was.”

-----

As unappealing as Janeway found Neelix’s cooking to be, it was, apparently, perfect for kids, as evidenced by the unrestrained glee with which Tom, B’Elanna, and Tuvok devoured their sandwiches.

The captain couldn’t help but smile as Tom downed the second half of his sandwich in a few bites and think how the older version of Tom would have been appalled to see himself eating Neelix’s cooking with such enjoyment.

As the older children ate, Janeway found herself spooning some kind of mashed vegetable mix into Harry’s waiting mouth. At first, she was a little uncomfortable with the idea of feeding one of her best officers, but, once she was able to get past the strangeness of the entire situation, she found herself enjoying the funny expressions and eager attitude of the baby in front of her.

“Gosh, he’s such a cute baby.” She said with a grin for the fourth time.

Chakotay leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers as he smiled at Harry. “I’d like to agree with you, Captain, but you keep hogging him so I can’t get a good look.” He turned to look her in the eye, raising his eyebrow teasingly.

She shoved him playfully with her elbow. “You got to hold him earlier in the conference room. It’s my turn.”

“I think your turn ended about ten minutes ago,” he grinned.

“I think I can find something else for you to do if you’re going to take Harry away from me, Commander.” She returned his grin.

“Fine,” Chakotay shook his head with a chuckle, “but I get him later.”

-----

Several hours had passed since lunch and, much to Chakotay’s disappointment, baby Harry was still firmly in Janeway’s possession, perched on her hip and looking for all the world like he belonged there.

Chakotay tried not to think too much about how naturally Kathryn had taken to caring for Harry as he watched her pace the bridge, checking on various scanner readings and flight paths, from his position on the floor by their command chairs. Beside him, Tom and B’Elanna rolled a ball back and forth between them, excitedly chattering about... well... everything.

“Do you think the whales were really THAT big?” Tom spread his arms out to the side.

“Yeah they were!” B’Elanna exclaimed loudly enough that the entire ship could probably hear it. Despite Chakotay’s best efforts to get her to lower her voice, the young girl seemed to only have one volume. “I saw a big fake one in a museum once and it was HUGE!”

“Whoa!” Tom’s eyes widened. “Bigger than this ship?”

B’Elanna tilted her head. “I don’t know, but it was definitely bigger than me!”

The two kids laughed, rolling the ball back and forth faster.

“Hey Tom?”

“What?”

“You’re my best friend!” B’Elanna suddenly reached forward and gave Tom a hug.

Chakotay glanced up at Kathryn to exchange a look of awe before he turned back to the kids on the floor. “But B’E, I thought you just said a few minutes ago that I’m your best friend.” He raised an eyebrow, hiding his smile.

The young girl gave him a look that he had seen far too many times on her older counterpart’s face whenever he said something particularly dumb. “I can have two best friends, duh.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

Suddenly, he saw Kathryn’s purposeful walk stop out of the corner of his eye.

“Chakotay,” her voice was even and tense, “where’s Tuvok?”

Eyes widening, Chakotay glanced around the bridge. Tuvok was no where to be seen.

“Chakotay to Tuvok.” He stood as he tapped his commbadge. “Tuvok, please acknowledge.” They waited a moment and, upon receiving no response, moved simultaneously toward the turbolift.

“It’s possible he hasn’t figured out how to use his comm.” Janeway tucked Harry closer to her side as they stepped into the lift. “Computer: locate Tuvok.”

“Unable to comply.”

Janeway gave the ceiling a glare. “Why?”

The computer did not respond.

“Maybe the de-aging effect has made it difficult for the computer to locate him.” Chakotay rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s alright; he’s probably just exploring the ship; you saw how amazed he was by everything in the conference room earlier.”

She nodded tightly. “Let’s hope so. Where do you think he’s gone?”

“Maybe to the holodeck?”

“Or his quarters.”

“What about the mess hall?”

“He just ate.”

They both paused, mulling it over.

“Alright.” Kathryn straightened. “I’ll check holodeck one and his quarters, you check holodeck two and the mess hall.” She turned back to the lift door. “Holodeck one.”

Chakotay swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying not to think of all the ways a small child could get hurt on a spaceship like Voyager. As the turbolift began to move, Janeway’s badge chirped.

“Kes to the captain.”

Her brow raised as she tapped the emblem. “Go ahead.”

“I think I’ve found something you’re missing.” Kes’s usually lighthearted tone was even lighter, clear amusement seeping through.

Kathryn turned to look Chakotay in the eye, a hopeful smile brightening her face. “I’m on my way.”

-----

Honestly, Janeway was a little ashamed of the fact that she didn’t think to go looking for her best friend among the orchids and other plants in the aeroponics bay, considering his horticulturally-related hobbies. As she and Chakotay stepped into the room, smiles crept onto both of their faces as they watched Tuvok carefully transfer one of Kes’s sprouts to a bigger pot. After patting the soil around the plant firmly, he wiped a hand across his forehead, smearing dirt on his face to match the dirt on his uniform.

Kes smiled up at the command team. “He came down and asked about a hundred questions about our system and then offered to help me with my work while we talked because its ‘more efficient to talk and work than simply talk.’”

Janeway chuckled at Kes’s approximation of Tuvok’s speech pattern. “Thanks for letting us know, Kes.” She reluctantly handed Harry to Chakotay, who flashed his dimples, and crouched next to Tuvok. “Hello there.”

Tuvok glanced up quickly before resuming his work. “Hello, Captain. Did you know that these Talaxian green beans take only a week and a half to reach maturity?”

“I did not.” Janeway raised a brow and tilted her head. “That’s very impressive.”

“I thought so too when Kes told me.” He patted the soil around another plant and set it aside, retrieving another sprout.

“Tuvok,” the captain reached forward and rested a hand on his shoulder, “I’m glad you’ve found something to do, but you have to tell someone where you’re going before you wander off. We didn’t know what happened to you and Chakotay and I were really worried.”

Behind her, Chakotay’s heart flipped. There was something rather... intimate about the way she had referred to both of them being worried about a child.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” Tuvok nodded his head. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Janeway smiled and stood. “Why don’t you help Kes down here for a while and then come back up to the bridge when you are ready?” She looked at Kes. “That is, if Kes is alright with that.”

The young woman smiled. “Of course, I’d love some help.”

Janeway nodded and turned back to Tuvok. “Be sure to let us know when you’re on your way back up.”

“Of course, Captain.”

She patted him one last time on the shoulder and turned back to Chakotay. They fell into step beside one another and entered the elevator.

As the doors whooshed closed, Janeway turned to Chakotay with the intention of reclaiming Harry, but stopped. A smile grew across her lips as she watched Chakotay bounce Harry gently, allowing the little boy to palm his tattoo in curiosity. Even as one of Harry’s chubby fingers poked him in the eye, Chakotay simply chuckled and took the tiny hand in his own.

He finally turned to look at her. “What?”

Kathryn just shook her head, grinning wider. “I was going to take Harry from you, but I can’t bear to break up this cute little arrangement.” She motioned to the two of them with a long finger.

The corner of Chakotay’s mouth kicked up a little higher. “Captain, did you just imply that I’m cute?”

Her brow arched, but her smile didn’t diminish. “It would be hard for anyone to look unappealing with a cute baby in their arms.”

Her heart stopped suddenly as she realized what she had just said. From the look of Chakotay’s face, he had caught it too. Implying that he and the baby were cute was one thing; calling him “appealing” was another. Before she could say anything else she might regret, Kathryn turned back to the lift door, schooling her features back into the face of the Captain.

If she had turned but a half-second later, she would have seen a wide smile break across Chakotay’s face.

-----

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I need more time. I won’t deactivate myself until I have a solution, but this situation is very delicate and I can’t risk rushing my tests. You’ll need to find somewhere for the children to sleep. Hopefully I’ll have a solution tomorrow.”

Kathryn nodded. “Of course. Thank you, Doctor.”

With a grim smile, the feed from sickbay switched off, leaving her to look at her dark reflection in the black screen. Something like relief swept over help alongside a touch of regret. On one hand, she could really use her senior officers back in functioning shape. On the other hand....

Her eyes drifted back down to Harry, who had pulled a bit of her hair out of it’s ponytail and was curling it around his tiny fist in unbreakable fascination. A smile tugged at her lips as she cuddled him a bit closer.

She could get used to this.

The thought struck her before she even knew what she was feeling and, as soon as she admitted it to herself, she took that feeling and shoved it as deep into the recesses of her mind as she could. She was the captain of a ship that was constantly in danger and she shouldn’t dwell on things she couldn’t have.

Kathryn sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Well, Harry, looks like we need to find you a place to sleep.”

Turning back to the computer, she moved to set him down so she could use both hands to search the crew quarters layouts for a suitable place to keep the children overnight. As soon as Harry’s feet touched the ground, a wail rose from the back of his throat and his face scrunched.

Kathryn quickly scooped him back up. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

The boy’s cry of protest faded into whimpers and he buried his head in her shoulder, clinging to her tightly.

A warm feeling washed over her. “Ah,” she smiled, “I see.”

She pulled him closer and turned back to the computer, tapping buttons with one hand. “You can stay up here with me, then.”

The door to her quarters chimed.

“Come in.”

Before she could turn to greet her guest, mischievous giggles rose from the door. Eyebrow raised, she whirled around to find Chakotay standing in the doorway, a stack of PADDs in his hand, a tiny engineer on his left leg, and a tiny helmsman on his right.

He stepped forward with far less difficultly than she would have expected, given the extra weight on his legs. He crossed the room quickly and passed the PADDs to her. “The crew reports you requested.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, glancing down at the still giggling forms. “Not to alarm you, Commander, but it would seem that you have a couple of lifeforms attached to you.”

Chakotay’s eyes grew wide in mock surprise. “Really?” He turned his head and shuffled around, as if to look at his back. “Where?”

Tom and B’Elanna’s laughter grew. Suddenly, Chakotay leaned over and scooped the two of them off his legs, lifting them both up over his shoulders as their shrieked in delight.

He turned back to Kathryn with a wide smile. “Not to worry, Captain, I’ve apprehended the life forms.”

She smiled back with a soft chuckle. “We need to find a place for the life forms to stay tonight.”

Chakotay’s smile faded into a more serious, but not displeased look. “The Doctor doesn’t have a solution yet, then?” He lowered Tom and B’Elanna to the ground. They scampered off to the viewport, excitedly chattering about the stars.

“No, he needs a bit more time.”

Chakotay nodded. “Maybe I could take them for the night, that way someone is there to keep an eye on them.”

Kathryn shook her head. “I have no doubt in your babysitting abilities, Commander, but four children is a lot for one person to watch alone and your quarters are not big enough for Trouble 1 and Trouble 2 to run around in.” She gestured to the kids at the window.

“Fair point. Maybe I should take Harry and Tuvok then, and you could take Tom and B’Elanna?”

She turned Harry away from Chakotay. “Trying to take my boy again, are you Chakotay?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Do you have another idea, then, Mom?”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to smirk at him and continue speaking without any indication that his previous sentence had impacted her. “My quarters are the largest on the ship. If we set up cots here in my living room we could easily both keep an eye on the children overnight.”

“Sounds good to me.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “How about I go collect Tuvok from aeroponics and some food from the mess hall while you get the cots set up?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He gave her one last lingering smile, which she returned, before heading out the door and down the hall.

-----

Apparently the lunch they had shared earlier that day had been misleadingly easy. Supper was, to put it lightly, a challenge.

“B’Elanna, eat your own food and stop taking from Tom’s plate,” Kathryn said firmly.

“But Tom isn’t eating it!”

“I was going to eat it! I’m just a slower eater than you are!”

“Well eat faster then!”

“B’Elanna!” Chakotay set down the spoon he had been using to feed Harry and fixed her with a stern look. “That food isn’t yours, and Kathryn already asked you to stop taking Tom’s food. You won’t be asked again.”

B’Elanna mumbled out an apology and stuffed another bite of her own meal into her mouth.

Kathryn shot Chakotay a grateful smile and turned to Tuvok, who was holding up one of his vegetables to the light. “Tuvok? What are you doing?”

“I’m looking at the xylem and phloem of this plant.”

She bit back a smile. “I appreciate your curiosity, Tuvok, but I need you to stop studying your food and start eating it.”

The young Vulcan turned to her and nodded. “Of course.” He politely chewed and swallowed his food and turned back to the captain. “Did you know that this particular plant is a distant cousin of Terran broccoli? You can tell by the-”

Chakotay smiled as he watched Kathryn listen to Tuvok’s fourth lecture of the evening on plant biology. Neither of them were certain of what he was talking about most of the time, but his enthusiasm for the subject was nearly infectious and neither of them minded listening.

“Chakotay?”

He turned away from the scene across the table and looked at Tom next to him. “Yes?”

“After dinner, will you read to us?”

“Of course.” Chakotay smiled and ruffled Tom’s hair. “Anything particular you want to hear?”

“I want to hear about your missions with the Maquis!” B’Elanna bounced in her seat, all of that barely-contained Klingon energy starting to spill over.

“Or perhaps you could read to us from a classic story,” Tuvok raised a brow. “I’m fond of the works of Tolkien, maybe Tom and B’Elanna would like ‘The Hobbit’ too?”

“What’s a hobbit?” Tom’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Maybe,” Kathryn interjected before Tuvok could give a detailed recounting of the beloved childhood book, “Chakotay could tell us a story from his tribe.” Her eyes met his across the table. “He is pretty good at recounting ancient legends.”

Heat crept up the sides of Chakotay’s face as he held her stare. “Maybe.”

“Nah,” Tom’s voice broke through the pleasant tension between them. “I wanna know what a hobbit is!”

Chakotay chuckled. “Alright, ‘The Hobbit’ it is.”

-----

It took some time to get the older three to settle into bed, but finally, they began to yawn and snuggle deeper under their blankets. As their heads grew heavier, Chakotay wrapped up his story telling and the command team began to tuck their young companions in for the night.

As Chakotay wished Tom and Tuvok a good night’s rest, Kathryn carefully extracted B’Elanna from where she was snuggled into her side and took her over to her cot. As she got the small girl settled, she suddenly reached up and captured Kathryn in a tight hug. Surprised, Kathryn’s eyes widened, but she returned the gesture in earnest.

“Kathryn?”

“Yes, B’Elanna?”

“You’re my best friend.”

Kathryn blinked and pulled back to look B’Elanna in the eyes with a small smile. “I thought Chakotay and Tom were your best friends.”

“I can have more than one best friend.” B’Elanna’s voice was filled with deep confidence, despite how sleep-laced it was.

“Fair enough,” Kathryn chuckled, pulling the blankets tightly around the girl. “Goodnight.”

She met Chakotay in her bedroom, Harry still in his arms.

“Any time I try to set him down he starts crying.” Chakotay grinned sheepishly.

She grinned back. “I had a similar experience earlier today.” She reached up and brushed hand over the boy’s soft, black hair. “Its a good thing he weighs next to nothing.”

At Kathryn’s gentle touch, Harry stirred. His dark eyes found Kathryn’s and he reached out for her. With a look of mock hurt, Chakotay transferred the boy to his desired location.

“I’m trying not to be offended right now, Harry.”

Kathryn simply grinned and bounced the baby in her arms gently. “It’s alright, Chakotay. He has excellent taste.”

Chakotay shook his head, dimples flashing. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

She turned toward the bed and settled herself on one side, her back resting against the pillows and Harry resting against her chest. “Let’s see if we can get this one sleepy enough to not notice if we set him down.” She looked back at Chakotay, who was still standing, rather awkwardly. She patted the bed next to her with a smirk. “Come on, Commander. Get some rest. We’ve has a big day, wrangling the kiddos.”

He smiled and crossed the room to the other side of the bed, gently sitting next to her, his legs stretched out. “It has been a long day,” he said with a sigh. “But, I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed it.” He tilted his head to look at Kathryn, who was already looking up at him.

“Nor I.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, Chakotay was very aware of how close their faces were. He watched as Kathryn’s eyes slid down to his lips. Before he could do something he couldn’t take back, he took a deep breath and turned away.

“Well,” Kathryn cleared her throat, sounding more like the Captain now, “it’s been fun but we should get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on Harry here and take him to his cot in a few minutes. You should go ahead and rest, Commander.”

“Of course.” He tilted his head and gave her a small smile. “Goodnight, Kathryn.”

She grinned back. “Goodnight, Chakotay.”

-----

Apparently, Kathryn didn’t stay awake long enough to take Harry back to his cot, as evidenced by the weight on her chest as she stirred awake the next morning. She slowly became aware of her surroundings and the previous day’s events came flooding back to her.

She also became distinctly aware of the warm, comfortable presence beside her. As she opened her eyes, she realized that her first officer’s arm was settled around her shoulders and that his shoulder was currently her pillow. His head rested atop hers and the hand that was not draped around her shoulders was resting on top of Harry’s back next to her own.

The situation was all rather snuggly and, were it not a violation of every professional barrier Kathryn had erected between her and the commander, she would have had no issue in savoring the moment.

Then again.... maybe she could allow herself just a few moments to pretend that the baby in her arms wasn’t her star technical officer and that the man holding her close wasn’t her XO and that this was a perfectly normal situation.

Before she could get too far into her fantasy, however, Chakotay stirred next to her, his dark eyes fluttering open to find her own.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice huskier than her own as sleep clung to it.

“Good morning.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Chakotay carefully extracted himself from her side, helping her up so she could carefully place Harry in his cot in the living room without waking the boy or the other children who were still sleeping. Without a word, they quietly prepared breakfast and coffee, steeling themselves for another day of handling the kids.

-----

“I’m afraid I’m a bit.... stuck,” The Doctor ground out with obvious difficulty.

The captain raised an eyebrow. The EMH admitting that he was struggling to solve a problem was a rare instance indeed. “How so?”

With a huff, The Doctor turned back to his desk, flipping through experimental results from a stack of PADDs. “Kes was right; the DNA reversal process I initially thought might work will not account for the de-aging of the officers’ brains, so I decided to look at the type of radiation that might have caused this and, to be completely honest, Captain,” he turned back to look her in the eye, “I have absolutely no idea how this even happened. There’s no evidence of radiation, the temporal energy around them is unidentifiable, and I can’t figure out how their cells and their minds were reversed.” He lowered his head. “I’m unsure of how to even proceed from here.”

Kathryn nodded, taking the emotions that were beginning to tumble in her chest and stuffing them as far down as she could. “Very well, Doctor. Take a rest and we can all come back to the issue later once we’ve had time to think.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up. “Don’t despair yet; there’s a lot of other brilliant minds on this ship besides your own. We’ll figure it out together.” She smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading into the turbolift.

As the doors slid open, she found Tuvok waiting in the lift for her. She smiled down at him and stepped inside, calling for the bridge.

“Chakotay to the captain.”

She tapped her badge. “Go ahead.”

“We need you on the bridge, there’s a bit of a situation.”

She raised a brow, glancing down at Tuvok, who was gazing at her intently. “On my way.”

-----

“So they want to.... interview us?”

“They want to interview you specifically.”

“To see if we are worthy of going through their space.”

“Something like that.”

“And going around their space isn’t an option?”

“It would add another 7 months to our journey, so this interview is our ideal option.”

“No pressure, eh, Commander?” Janeway shifted Harry from one hip to the other with a long sigh. “Alright. Hail them.”

After a moment, a blue and red humanoid alien appeared on the screen.

“Greetings, Ambassador.” The Captain flashed a polite smile. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager.”

The alien woman inclined her head. “Hello, Captain Janeway, I’m Ambassador Tel Parah of the Doonian Delegation.” Her eyes swept the bridge. “You’re ship is heavily armed, which, according to the laws of our people, requires that we do a personal interview of the commanding officer to ensure that violence or other manners of chaos will not be instigated as you pass through our space.”

“Of course, I understand.” Janeway smiled again. “What questions may I answer for you?”

Over the course of the next 30 minutes, Janeway was grilled on their purpose in passing through Doonian space, the types and numbers of weapons they carried, and the journey they had made so far. Just as Janeway thought there wasn’t possibly anything more she could tell them, Ambassador Parah paused and looked up from the computer device in her hand to study Janeway. After a moment, she spoke again.

“Just one more thing, Captain Janeway,” a slow smile slipped onto her face, “What’s your son’s name? He’s absolutely precious.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows in surprise and glanced down at Harry, who she had nearly forgotten was still in her arms. At some point, he had removed her combadge and was currently turning it over and over again in his tiny hands, taking a moment here and there to bite parts of the object he must have found particularly interesting. Kathryn exchanged an amused glace with Chakotay, who shrugged off screen, before turning back to the ambassador.

“This is Harry.” Janeway smiled, turning the boy so the ambassador could see him better.

The other woman smiled widely. “How adorable. He has the brightest eyes.”

“He does.” Kathryn smiled back down at him.

“You know,” Parah leaned back in her chair, “I usually don’t allow anyone through our space that isn’t from a system or planet we are already know and trust and so I wasn’t planning on letting Voyager pass. However, when I saw your baby and how well-cared for and happy he seems, I felt that I could trust you somehow.” She smiled again. “We value children highly in the Doonien Delegation. Children are often a reflection of a parent’s character. I can tell by Harry’s disposition and curiosity that you are of a fine character, Captain.”

Janeway cuddled Harry a little closer, heart warming. “Thank you, Ambassador, I take that as a high compliment.”

“As you should.” Parah leaned forward again. “You may pass through our space. We will have you stop at three checkpoints on your way though which I will send you the coordinated for in a moment. Have a safe journey.”

The screen went blank and Kathryn turned to Chakotay.

“Should I feel bad that I let her believe Harry is my son?”

Chakotay chuckled, stepping close enough and lowering his voice enough that the rest of the bridge could pretend not to hear him. “Are you saying he’s not?”

Her gaze grew softer. “I guess he’s sort of been like a son to me since we got on board.” She looked back down at him. “I feel very protective of him.”

Chakotay rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know.”

They smiled at each other again. Chakotay opened his mouth to say something more but, suddenly, there was a tug at Kathryn’s elbow.

“Captain? Now that the negotiations are over, I think I have an idea about how to fix Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, and me.” Tuvok’s eyes were bright and eager.

“Alright,” Captain Janeway smiled down at him. “Let’s get The Doctor up here and we’ll hear your idea together.”

-----

Chakotay exchanged glances with The Doctor and the Captain over the table as he bounced both Tom and B’Elanna on his knees. “Could that really work? It seems almost too easy.”

“Well, if this is a phenomena that’s inexplicable and is tied only to the anomaly the shuttles passed through, I feel like sending the children back through isn’t our worst idea.” The captain rubbed the back of her neck. “Doctor?”

The holographic man continued typing into his PADD for a moment before stopping and reading. “I- I honestly think this could work.” He slid the PADD over to Janeway. “It’s hard to predict, since we have no idea what exactly caused this, but if we send the shuttles through the anomaly opposite of the way they first went through, I think it just might turn them back to their usual ages.”

“How do we know it won’t just make them even younger?” Chakotay watched as B’Elanna slipped off of his knee, pulling Tom along with her to go play in the corner.

“We’d have to run some tests to be sure that they don’t. Perhaps we could send a plant through first, or some other organic life form.” The Doctor took the PADD back and made a note.

“We would also have to make sure that, if the tests show some promise, Tuvok can take the shuttle back through the anomaly.” Janeway turned to the boy sitting at her right. “Well, Tuvok? Do you think you could pilot the shuttle?”

He shook his head. “Since I don’t have my older self’s memories I don’t think I could.”

“We could use the tractor beam to send the shuttle through,” Chakotay said. “If we give them enough of a push to go through the anomaly, they should be able to pilot themselves back to Voyager once they get out the other side and have returned to their normal ages.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows. “Well, it’s worth a shot and I don’t have any better ideas. Commander, set a course for the anomaly. Doctor, prepare the experiments.”

-----

Tom and B’Elanna seemed to sense that something was up as they suddenly became even more clingy. The whole trip back to the anomaly, B’Elanna shared the captain’s chair with Kathryn, insisting with all of her Klingon passion that the older woman tell her more stories from earlier in their journey through the Delta Quadrant. At the helm, Tom hung on to Chakotay’s arm, watching the stars go by and asking Chakotay a hundred questions about piloting starships. Tuvok sat in Chakotay’s usual seat, interjecting with questions of his own here and there, and Harry sat on Kathryn’s knee, chewing on her jacket sleeve, her combadge still clutched tightly in his left hand.

After they reached the anomaly, it took a couple of hours for The Doctor to complete his experiments and, once he had declared that plants that had gone through the anomaly twice were returned to the same age the started as, they began preparing the children to enter the anomaly themselves.

“Will it hurt?” B’Elanna asked in the smallest voice she had ever used in her life as Kathryn tucked the small Starfleet uniform that she had come through the anomaly with around her shoulders.

“It won’t,” Tuvok said. “It didn’t hurt when we came through the first time, did it?”

She shook her head, but didn’t look very reassured.

“It’s okay, ‘Lanna!” Tom grabbed her hand. “I’ll be right beside you.”

Kathryn stood and took a step back, feeling almost as if someone had filled her chest with some of Neelix’s heavy stew. She had to let them go, of course, this wasn’t the way they were supposed to be, but she was certainly going to miss seeing the level of innocence her officers had now. B’Elanna was unburdened by trust issues, Tuvok was passionate and bright, and Tom - well, she supposed he hadn’t changed all that much, but at least he seemed to be genuinely happy, not just putting up a front of humor to protect himself.

It would be hard to see them go back, but maybe, now that she understood how the world and time had changed her friends, she could help them.

She was shaken from her thoughts by a tug at her collar. She looked down to see Harry pulling at her pips, completely enamored by the gold metal.

“Oh, Harry.” She nearly choked on his name. Since he was so young now, she didn’t have any insight into his personality after having seen him as a baby, but she was going to miss his innocent curiosity and familiar weight on her hip.

Before she could think too much about it, she handed Harry over to Tuvok. The younger boy scrunched his face up and whimpered at the change of hands, but Tuvok bounced him gently and he settled down, reaching for the pointed tip of Tuvok’s ear.

Kathryn took a step back, feeling Chakotay step up behind her so that they were nearly touching. “Best of luck, you four.” She gave them her most reassuring smile. “See you on the other side.”

She and Chakotay hurried up the bridge and gave the go ahead for the ensign who had taken over Harry’s post to begin using the tractor beam to move the shuttle out into the anomaly. They stood side-by-side on the bridge and watched the shuttle go through. At come point, they grabbed each other’s hands and squeezed each other tightly.

There was a flash as the shuttle passed through the anomaly. After a few terrifyingly quiet moments, the shuttle came bursting out of the other side and a voice crackled over the comm.

“Cochran to Voyager,” confusion leaked through Tom’s voice. “What the hell just happened?”

Kathryn and Chakotay smiled at each other in relief. “What’s the last thing you remember, Tom?” Chakotay asked.

“B’Elanna, Harry, and I were coming back to Voyager when we- wait a second, how did you get here, Tuvok?”

Janeway laughed. “Why don’t we get you four back on board and then we’ll explain everything.”

“Copy that. See you in a few.” Tom’s voice grew quieter, like he was leaning away from the comm. “I have a feeling this is going to be one heck of a story.”

-----

After everyone had been debriefed and left to process the last two days of strangeness, Chakotay found Kathryn in her favorite spot; on her couch and staring wistfully out at the stars as they drifted past. She had shucked her jacket and taken her hair out of it’s clip, leaving her in her grey turtleneck with her hair falling around her shoulders and face.

“Got a lot on your mind?”

She turned to smile at him, a note of sadness in her eyes. “It’s been an interesting couple of days.”

He settled on the couch a ways down, turning to face her. “It sure has.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m going to miss our kids.”

“Me too. It was fun having little ones around, playing at being a parent.” She fidgeted with the seam on the couch. “It was different and they sure did give us some challenges,” she chuckled, “but I loved it.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids of ou-” he coughed, “your own?”

Her crystal blue gaze caught his. “Yes.” She smiled and looked out the window again. “I always thought someday I would be a mother.” With a snort and a smirk, she continued; “Of course, I never thought I’d be mothering my helmsman, security officer, engineer, and technical officer.”

Chakotay laughed softly. “I think you were mothering them before they were turned into actual children.”

“Perhaps.” A pause. “What about you? Did you ever think about being a father? Outside of the whole instance with Seska, of course.”

He nodded. “When I was in the Maquis, no. My life was too fast-paced to be a proper father. If I was going to be a dad, I wanted to do it right and I couldn’t have done that from a Maquis ship.” He took a deep breath. “After joining this crew, though.... I’m in a better place now, and I think I’d be thrilled to be a father.” He looked over at Kathryn to find that she was already looking at him with something like wonder in her eyes. He held her gaze for a moment and, finally finding a bit of courage, he said: “I’m more at peace.”

A smiled played at the corners of her lips, and her eyes looked a little like they were silver-lined, though Chakotay couldn’t quite tell for sure in the low light of her quarters.

“You were really good with the kids. You would make an excellent father, I have no doubt.”

He smiled. “You would make an excellent mother. You’re a natural.”

“Thank you, but I barely felt like I knew what I was doing.” She chuckled.

“You could have fooled me.” He grinned for a moment, before his countenance grew more serious. “I hope you get your wish someday, Kathryn. I hope you get to be a mother.”

She was quiet for a moment, and Chakotay suddenly felt his chest tighten. Had he said too much.

Before he could fall too far into his panic, her hand slid over to his, giving it a squeeze. He looked up into her eyes, which definitely had tears in them now.

“I hope you get to be a father too Chakotay. Someday.”

He squeezed her hand back and they both fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the view of the stars outside Kathryn’s window.

#whew okay that got emotional there at the end #lets all take a breather and remember cute little Harry #Okay that's better #anyway #thanks for reading!#hopefully this wasn't too plot-hole-ridden #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #captain janeway #janeway #chakotay #harry kim #b'elanna torres #tom paris #tuvok #neelix #kes #the EMH #the doctor

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