literature

2p!F.A.C.E. x child!reader- She's...alright(ch.3)

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Three days go by. Right now you were in the kitchen by yourself, just staring at one of the locked cabinets, thinking of ways to open it. You crooked your head then went to try to pull it open. Like you thought, it didn't work. You sat on the floor and pouted. You pushed on it but still nothing happened. You couldn't really think of too many other ways to open it.

"What are you doing on the floor, poppet?"

You quickly looked up towards your dad. "Nothing!" He looked at the cabinet you were in front of. "I-I wasn't trying to open that!...I'm sorry daddy! I was trying to open it then I lied about it!" 

He picked you up while you where whimpering and on the verge of tears. "Why don't you just take a nap, dear?"

"O-ok."

He carried you all the way to the room you both shared and lied you down in the middle of the soft queen sized bed.

"Daddy? I'm not sleepy now."

"Then just try to rest your little eyes, alright?"

"Oh...ok."

He pats the top of your head and kissed your forehead before leaving the room.

Strike one for you. You tossed and turned in the bed as you thought of other ways to figure out what you dad was keeping from you because you were too young. You tired yourself out though and slowly went to sleep.

After a few hours, you woke up to your dad watching over you as you slept as he would do from time to time. "Look who's up! Did you sleep well?"

"Hi, daddy. Yes, I did."

"Oh? You looked quite flustered in your sleep. Are you sure?"

You thought for awhile. "Oh, uhm...Well I might have had a bad dream...but it was ok! It wasn't even that scary!"

He clapped before hugging you. "You're so brave, dear!"

"Yes, I am. Bad dreams aren't scary to me because if something does try to hurt me, I can just call one of my big brothers, and they'll make sure that they won't try it again!" you explained. "And big brother Al said he was going to show me how to use a bat like the one he has! He said if anyone tried to mess with me to just use my bat!"

"It's nice to hear you're bonding with your brothers!" You nodded to your dad. "...You know...I think you might be old enough to try one of my special cupcakes to see if like them."

"Really?!" You excitedly stood up on the bed.

He laughed a bit. "Would you like one?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Can I have it now?!"

"Sure, darling. Come with me. You can wait in the living room while I make them for you. Luckily, I got some fresh ingredients a few nights ago."

He took your hand and brought you to the living room. No one else was there besides you and your dad. "Just wait here. I forgot my ingredients in the basement. You stay put, ok?"

"Alright," you agreed then went to the couch.

You grabbed the remote and turned the television on to see if either a hockey or baseball game was on when the front door opened. You stood up on the couch and looked back. It was Francis and he had a bag with him.

"Hi, uncle Francis." 

He grumbled in response to you which you thought to be his way of saying hello. He rummaged through the bag and pulled out what looked to you to be a short belt. You didn't like belts. You got scared as he came closer to you with it. You closed your eyes then felt something wrap around your neck but didn't choke you. You reopened your eyes and the short but thick belt was around your neck. You touched it and your fingers go over two pieces of silver you assumed to be charms.

"...What's this, uncle Francis?"

"It's a collar."

"A collar?...Don't dogs wear collars?"

"Yes."

You tried looking down at the collar, but obviously couldn't so you hopped down and was going to be on your way to a mirror. You then remembered that your daddy told you to stay put, so you stopped midway and sat back on the couch.

"Daddy told me to stay here." Francis rolled his eyes then picked you up. "Wait! Wait, uncle Francis! Daddy told me to stay here!"

He walked with you to the bathroom where he held you up over the sink, in front of the mirror. You soon stopped all of your struggling and marveled at the black collar. It did have two silver charms on it, but you couldn't read so you didn't know what they said.

"What does it say?"

"It's your name on this one," You rubbed the one he said had your name on it. "and this one has the address."

"Oh...I like it."

"I only got it so people know where to return you so you don't end up sitting on a bench for days at a time again."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Now get back to the couch."

"Ok!"

You raced back to where you were and sat on the arm of the couch. Then you saw your dad coming back into the living room. He had two slender glass containers, but you couldn't see what was inside of them due to the black duct tape that covered the outside.

"Daddy! Look what uncle Francis gave me!" You pointed to your neck. "Isn't it nice? He said he got it so people know where to send me!"

"That's...nice?" Matt guessed as he came and sat on the couch with you.

"Yes. It is quite nice of him," your dad added.

"Look, Matt! It has my name on it!" You turned to show him.

"..Yup...and the other one reads, 'return this mutt to this address'...That's the nicest thing he's ever done."

"What's a mutt?"

"D-don't worry about that, dear! Just know that your uncle Francis did something very nice for you and leave it at that, ok? I'll go bake your cupcakes."

"Yay!" you cheered. "Daddy said he was going to make me special cupcakes because he thought I was old enough to try them!"

"You're gonna give her that?!" Matt yelled.

"Not that! The other ones!...From the basement ingredients, not the cabinets! I love my dear poppet too much to do that!"

"Still. You're actually gonna have her try even one of those?...That's kind of sick."

"She'll be fine!" your dad assured.

You just listened to the conversation that you didn't understand. You had no idea what they were talking about, especially since you weren't allowed to know what was in the basement nor some cabinets.

Your dad went off to the kitchen and you sat closer to your brother. "Matt? Is there something wrong with the cupcakes?"

He hesitated before answering you. "...Well...not really...You just might not like the taste."

"Do you like them?"

"Not as much as Oliver."

"Oh...What's in them?"

"What's with all the questions?"

You swung your feet back and forth and focused on your knees. "Just asking."

While you were looking down, a heavy hand dropped on top of your head and moved side to side.

"What's ya doing, squirt?" You knew that only Al called you by this nickname and faced him as he sat on the couch.

"Uncle Francis got me this nice collar, and daddy is making me special cupcakes that Matt said I might not like the taste of."

"Woah! He's giving her those?! I thought he liked her?!"

"The one's from the basement," you cleared up. "I don't really know what that means...but daddy said I was old enough to try them! Do you know what's in them?"

"Why you asking me?"

You shrugged. "I thought you would know and tell me."

"Why don't you stop asking so many questions."

"Am I asking too many questions? Everyone has been saying that to me lately. I'm sorry. I just want to figure out what daddy's doing so I can get old enough to go with him everywhere like you said, Al."

"You've been putting thoughts into her head to snoop around, you little prick," Matt accused him.

"No, I didn't. She's gonna find out anyway, plus she decided by herself to try to find out."

"Yes, I did. Al told me when I figure out what daddy's doing myself, that I'll be old enough to go with him when he leaves with that black backpack."

"(name). Stop putting words in my mouth."

"I'm not. That's exactly what you tol-"

"Your cupcakes are done, (name)!" your dad announced from the kitchen.

You got up and your brothers followed you to the dining room. You sat in your chair that had a pillow so you could see over the table and waited for the special cupcake. When your dad brought you the dark blue frosted cupcake, you knew it was going to be different from the other ones you've had. For one, the color. You sniffed it, and it even smelled a little different. You picked it up and continued to observe it.

"Are you gonna eat it or just look at it til it does something?" Francis commented.

You took a bite and quickly taste that there was something new, but you couldn't quite tell fully what it was. It was definitely a new flavor to you. It was kind of bitter and tasted...maybe a little salted or something like that, but it was still a somewhat sweet taste at the same time. It was a bit of an acquired taste but you liked it, nonetheless. You took another bite and seemed to enjoy it even more than the first. 

"Do you like them, dear?"

"Yes. Something...tastes different from the other cupcakes I've had before."

"That's the fresh ingredients I was telling you about," he stated proudly.

"I like it a lot...Can I have another?"

"Of course, dear! I'm glad to hear that you like them too!"


Later on that same day, you were a little hyper due to the amount of cupcakes you had earlier. You were skipping from the end of the hallway, to the living room, and back just because. The whole time, you didn't notice that your uncle was in the living room doing cool tricks with a pocket knife until you got tired and sat on the couch to catch your breath.

You watched awestruck as the knife went from one space in between his fingers to the next without cutting him. He slammed the blade end of the knife down into the table then looked at you.

"What?"

"Could you show me how to do that?"

"No," he told you simply as he took out a box of cigarettes from his pocket and slouched more where he sat.

"Oh...Why not?"

"Because I don't feel like hearing you whining about you cutting yourself."

"I-I won't! I won't whine uncle Francis! I can do it!"

He groaned, "If I show you, will you shut up already?"

You nodded wildly and dashed next to him. He glared at you then wiggled the knife out of the wooden table. "...Fine. You're gonna need a pocket knife first." He dug in his pockets then tossed you a dark red swiss army knife with writing on it in gold. You, of course, didn't know what it said, but it looked very pretty.

The first thing he showed you was how to flip the knife out at a quick pace. When you started to get the hang of that, he tried to show you how to spin it in your hand and quickly stab it down onto a surface. You tried but it slipped and cut your hand. Before you said anything, you bit your tongue. You kept a determined look then picked the knife back up to try again. You certainly cut your hand up a lot, but you did somewhat get it after awhile. You weren't as good as your uncle at it, but you could do it and for that, you were quite proud of yourself.

"Look!" You spun the knife then grabbed it by its handle. You cut your palm once again, but you tightly gripped the handle and jabbed the blade down onto the table. "I did it, uncle Francis!"

You held the back of your cut up hand with your other.

"Looks like you did. You cut up your hand a lot."

"B-but I didn't whine about it! That's good, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Ok!" You took the knife out of the table with your other hand then handed it back to Francis.

"Keep it."

"Really?! Thank you, uncle Francis! I'll always keep it with me and I'll practice a lot to get really good like you with knives!"

"You're a dramatic little mutt."

"Ok!" you happily agreed, still not knowing what he was calling you. "What do these words say?"

"Arme du meurtre"

You crooked your head to the side. "That doesn't sound like English."

"It's not. It's French."

"Oh...What does it mean?"

"Murder weapon."

"That's cool." You pushed the knife back down with your thumb then flipped it back out. "It's very cool."


The next day, when you awoke, your dad wasn't next to you as he usually was. You grabbed his pillow and hugged it, knowing he must have been out somewhere.

"I still have to find out what daddy's doing so I can go with him when he leaves me."

You thought of more ways to see some of the things that you weren't suppose to. You ruled out the cabinets. They were hard to open. You sat up in the bed as you got your next idea. "I should go to the basement!"

You jumped out of bed and ran to the door. When you opened it, you looked both ways to make sure no one saw you leaving out of your room then made a dash down to the very end of the hall. There, you stood in front of the large door that led downstairs, into the basement. You gripped the knob with both hands and turned on it but it was locked. You huffed then tried again. Still locked.

"Strike two," you mumbled. You heard noise sounding as if it was coming from the basement but just brushed it off. The door was locked anyway. Whatever it was, you couldn't get to it.

You went back to the room and climbed on top of the bed. You sighed heavily. One more strike and you'd be out, if you were in baseball anyway. You were starting to run out of ideas, and all this thinking was really tiring out your poor little four year old brain. You were actually starting to get bored with hitting dead ends with your plans. One you get caught, the other's a locked door. What were you to do to prove you were old enough to go with your dad wherever he went? The answer, you didn't quite know, but you were sure you would find out.
This is too much fun XD I'm sorry that I'm not answering comments. I just have some stuff to do and don't really have the time to. I might start back on it by this weekend but until then, I still have time to write and will proceed with delivering these stories to you all! >w< Please forgive the late replies that I will give Cause I just love replying to comments XD

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IAmYourAnimeSenpai's avatar
IAmYourAnimeSenpai
My friend toke my pocket knife away saying that a little lady should never have a knife. Luckily i have money I'll just get me a $10 one from Walmart