#'so you could never understand the satisfaction of watching the bad kids (a group of nerds and outcasts) absolutely wreck their ass'

[natjennie]

what if I just came up with some way out of left field strawman argument about the rat grinder drama and then never posted about it ever again.

[dr-docktor]

Local Docktor wakes up at 4:30 am, feverishly writes about his own OCs like he’s a young Victorian man dying from mysterious illness and he needs to write his will.

Ugh this group makes me so insane. I love when the team of misfits and outcasts and found family falls apart <3 I miss them every day

warning for a high school school exploding? Nobody dies but one of ‘em gets hurt pretty bad

Revon has always been an odd kid.

Deadly silent, even in his movements, the only thing that ever alerted people to his presence was the click of his cane against the stone tiles.

Yet here he lay on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs. Almost louder than the ringing in his ears. Almost.

He was going to kill Chuzu personally. Doesn’t matter if his cane snapped in two in the ensuing events of the explosion. He was going to claw tooth and nail to watch the life drain out of those wide blue eyes.

Speaking of which… there’s the bastard! Standing just a few feet away, facing the massive fire that raged through the halls. The guy gently sways back and forth on his feet almost as if he were in a daze. He pays no mind to his friend’s screams, the motherfucker.

Gathering the courage to let his hands unclamp from around his ears, Revon could only stare in horror as the palms come away stained with blood.

He wonders if he stopped screaming. he can’t exactly hear it, but his mouth definitely feels closed. Whatever. That’s the least of his worries. He first needs to deal with the bastard who started this.

There’s some sick satisfaction to being right. Chuzu had been acting off for months and yet nobody listened to his concerns. Half a years worth investigation work incinerated in seconds. Revon no longer cares about the motive like he normally would. He no longer cares about the how or even about who could be the true mastermind pulling the strings. Instead his vision tunnels and all he can see is the betrayal of what he thought was one of his only friends.

“ABONHANDS!” He screeches, hauling himself to his feet using the wall for support. At least he thinks he yells. He still can’t really tell.

“CHUZU ABONHANDS, YOU COWARD! COME AND FACE ME!” No answer. The guy doesn’t even turn around.

Pure rage burns brightly in Revon’s chest, threatening to consume him entirely. He’s never been impulsive. But hey, his parents did always say Chuzu was a bad influence.

Revon weakly pushes his long hair out of his face, preparing to lunge at the man who ruined everything. The man who fueled his paranoia for months on end. The man who took their friendship, something so rare and so sacred for Revon, and quite literally blew it all up.

He shifts forward, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain flaring up in his hip. ‘This is for Salem, you dirty-‘

His thoughts are cut short by a hand grabbing the back of his shirt, yanking him back with a surprising amount of force.

Kiki.

God, Revon wishes he knew what she was saying. Knowing her, it would be something inappropriately funny. But her face is deadly serious, eyebrows knitted in worry as she realizes he can’t understand her. She pulls his arm across her shoulder, insisting he leans on her for support.

Reluctantly, he does. The seething rage in his chest finally starts to fizzle out, leaving room for exhaustion. There’s very few things more humiliating than being dragged around like a useless little rag doll by your friend. But for once in his goddamned life, Revon is willing to put his pride aside. After all, there’s much more pressing matters.

It’s not until Revon’s knees hit soft grass does the crushing weight of everything start to press down on his shoulders.

One tear. Then another. And then a third.

Sobbing and wheezing violently, he can’t help but wonder if this makes him weak.

[libraryofloveletters]

Just A Phase

Evan Buckley x Reader 

Warnings: fem!reader, typical high school nonsense, kinda rude behaviour at first meet, mentions of weed/alcohol and the consumption of, typical cocky jock behaviour, few swear words, being tipsy/drunk

Category: fluff and a little angst 

Word Count: 5.4k

Author’s Note: I just started writing and this is where I ended up so yeah also I feel like I haven’t written in a million years, forgive me if this is shitty // I referred to Buck as Evan for the first little bit because he and the reader had been introduced yet. // thank you to my darling @floralbuckleys for their help!

----

Senior Year Of High School. 

 Evan Buckley, certified jock and bad boy. 

He was the type of guy that only had a soft spot for you, but you didn’t know that yet. Truthfully he wasn’t a mean guy - people just perceived him that way because he was on the football team and popular. He had somewhat of a troublesome reputation.

People knew where he went, trouble followed. 

You, on the other hand, came from a somewhat above average family. Your mom’s a nurse and dad’s a lawyer. They always had big hopes and dreams for you, for you to go off to Harvard in the fall and follow in your father’s footsteps but you didn’t want that. 

You dreamt of being a writer - you couldn't bring yourself to tell your parents that. Since you were young, they had instilled “you’re going to go to Harvard” in you. 

You couldn’t back out now. 

See, high school worked a certain way. You kept to your circles and didn’t mingle with those that didn’t fit into your circle. You and Evan didn’t run in the same circle - he was a troublesome jock and you were a smart preppy girl. 

Being the preppy kid meant volunteering where you could to bulk up your college application hence why you were at school on a Friday afternoon, waiting for the kids to show up. You were part of some tutor program that your chemistry teacher put you into. 

It was mostly just kids that needed some clarification on their work and the occasional jock that needed to pass a course to stay on the team.

You weren't surprised when a group of noisy jocks stumbled in the study hall, reeking of sweat from practice.  

You were surprised to see Evan, he hadn't been in there before. 

“Settle down boys” Mrs. Jacobs told them before sending each guy off to a tutor, leaving Evan standing beside her. “You can head over to y/n” she pointed at you, you gave him a small smile when you glanced up. He looked unpleasant, like he didn’t want to be there. 

He made his way over nonetheless. “Good afternoon” you say quietly, unsure if he heard you. He grumbles a hello as he sits down. 

The first few minutes, it was quiet. He sat there flipping through his textbook and scribbling down answers into the notebook in front of him. 

“Is there anything I can help you-” “I'm not stupid.” 

You glance at him, eyes catching his blue ones looking back at you. “I never said you were.” 

“I'm only here because I didn’t turn in my mid term project and now stupid Mr. Jefferson thinks I don't understand this shit” he explains himself. 

You hum, glancing down at the notebook in front of him, pulling it towards you. Reading over the sheet, all the answers were right. A hum of satisfaction slips pass your lips as you slide the notebook back over to him. 

“Not just another dumb jock then.” your eyes study his face after the statement. His lips curl into a small smile, a hum as he turns his attention back to his paper. 

“So prep life must be dull - no parties, all study.” 

“Who says prep kids don't party ?” 

He chuckles, “maybe the lack of prep kids at the parties.” “I’ll have you know, I party plenty, Evan.” 

Once again, he chuckles. “The phrasing of that statement shows that you clearly don’t- but call me Buck, all the guys do.” he slides the notebook over to you. 

“Check this over, I'll be back” you watched as he stepped out of the study hall and disappeared into the hallway. 

A few minutes pass by, you’re tired and in need of a nap but you blink away the tiredness to read his work. There’s a voice behind you and then you feel something heavy on your chair. Leaning back to figure out what it was, the back of your head hit something hard. You shift in your seat and look up to see your head has hit Buck’s torso. 

“How's the work, peach ?” his voice is low, the drop in octave from before causes butterflies in your stomach. 

Your brows furrow at the nickname, he noticed your confusion and glances down at your top and your eyes follow his only to see that your peach colour bra was sticking out from the top of your shirt. 

You had stretched back into your seat when he stepped out and you hadn't noticed the shift in your clothing.

Pulling the top of your shirt back up, he smiles and returns to his seat. You clear your throat, head down and eyes on the work in front of you as you could feel the blush on your face. 

“Um, the work is fine.” 

“Do you have plans tonight ?” 

“No, why?” 

“Come with me to Johnson’s party, you can show me how prep kids party” he smiles, his words are teasing you- taunting you even. “I would, but my parents are out of town so I don’t have the car and I have to watch the house.” 

“The house won’t disappear if you’re gone for a few hours and I'll pick you up then. What’s your address ?” 

“Buck, I really shouldn't” 

“Y/n, come on. Pull the stick out your ass for one night and enjoy senior year. You can go back to Harvard prep tomorrow.” 

His word choice doesn't shock you, it’s quite on brand for him. He’s looking at you, waiting for your answer and you can't help but give in.

Taking the pen from him, you scribble your address and number on his notebook. “See you at 7?” picking your bag up before slinging it over your shoulder. 

“7? Peach, the party doesn’t start ‘till 9. I’ll pick you up at 10:30.” 

“Oh um- okay.” you hum, confused but you agree anyways. 

--- 

10:45 and you were sitting on your couch, glancing at your phone and back to the window. 

You had been stood up once before but to be stood up by a jock, and a popular one ? Will be the death of any social life you had. 

Finally there’s a knock on your door and you get up a little faster than you would have liked but you make your way over. Pulling it open, you met with Buck. 

“Ready ?” 

“Sure, let me grab my phone” you leave the door open, stepping back to the couch. Buck had disappeared from the doorway when you returned, you locked up and followed what looked like headlights to the driveway. 

Buck sat on his bike, he scoots forwards a bit before patting the space behind him. 

“No.” you mumble. 

“What ?” 

“I’m not getting on that thing.” 

“That thing ? I'm offended. Come on, you’ll be fine.” 

“Evan, no.” 

Buck gets up, making his way over to you. His hands grab yours, looking at you now. “Y/n, I promise you that you’ll be fine. Can we go now ?” 

“I’ll kill you if something happens to you” you grumbled as you reluctantly made your way over to the bike. Buck gets on first, you mirror his actions. Your hands were to your side, Buck reached back and wrapped them around his waist. 

“You good back there ?” 

“As good as I could be.”

-- 

The house, who you assumed belonged to Johnson’s parents, (you had no idea who Johnson was because you barely ever went to the football games) reeked of alcohol and weed. 

Your face didn’t hide your displeasure as well as you thought it had. Buck chuckled as he slung his arm over your shoulder. 

“So is this what you do ?” you shout over the loud music, Buck was saying hello to someone he knew and wasn't paying attention to what you had asked him. 

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grip and find your way to the kitchen. It’s a few minutes later that Buck finds you sipping on a beer. 

“You drink ?” he gives you a questionable look with a smile on his face. 

“You brought me to a party so I'll do what people do at a party” you hum, leaning back against the counter. He finds his way to you, leaning back against the counter too. 

“Enjoying the party ?” 

“Not really, you kinda left me to talk to some guy for twenty minutes” 

“That guy happens to be our star quarterback.” 

“I care why?” you glance up at him. Buck’s face is pure amusement, you aren't sure if you’re the cause of that or something else but the way he's looking at you- you can feel the butterflies again. 

“Buck!” a group of guys shout as they make their way into the kitchen. They all say hello to him, some are drinking, some are shoving chips into their mouths. 

You stay quiet while Buck talks to them and judging by their varsity jackets, it was safe to assume that they were on the team with Buck. 

“Who’s your friend ?” a brunette guy asks him, stepping towards you. 

“I’m y/n, you are?” you ask before Buck could. 

“Mike, call me Johnson.” 

“Oh, so this is your place ? Cute house” you give him a smile, he laughs. 

“How do you know Buck?” Johnson asks, he was nosy for a drunk guy. 

“Just bumped into each other, we have class together” you lie, not sure if Buck wanted them to know how you really met, Buck gives you a small smile. 

“You’re pretty, how about a dance ?” his hand grabs yours. 

“Thanks but no thanks” you give a polite smile before pulling your hand away. 

Johnson takes a step forward, his hand reaching out and grabbing your hip. “C’mon, dance with me” you could smell the alcohol on him- he reeked. You push his hand off, “I said no thank you” you tell him once more, being ever so polite. 

“Y/n, c’mon, one dance baby” he takes another step, he’s now face to face with you. Before you could say anything, Buck is in front of you, between you and Johnson. 

“Dude, she said no. Leave her alone.” 

Buck’s sudden need to protect you was much appreciated. Usually if a guy did that, especially a jock, you’d be weird out because they never pay attention to you- but Buck, you had this indescribable feeling, pride, satisfaction, maybe even relief ? 

“She’s not even your girl, why are you protecting her?” 

“Doesn’t matter, she said no so get out of her fucking face.” Buck’s hand was against his chest, pushing him away as his other hand reached back for yours. It would be cheesy to say that your hand fit in his like it was made to be there but it was true. 

Buck’s hand was still in yours as he pulled you out the back door. Your back was up against the wall as he stood in front of you. 

“Are you okay ?” you could hear the concern in his voice - different from his usual tone. 

At a loss for words, his eyes study your face. Johnson was a douche and he knew that, he mentally cursed himself for even bringing you here. 

“Y/n.. talk to me” he takes a step towards you. 

“Buck,” your hand presses against his chest, “I'm fine. It’s not the first time a drunk guy has hit on me” 

A breath of relief slipped past his lips, “do you want to leave?” his face softens when he asks. “No, I'm alright.” 

“Stay here, I'll be back” his hand comes down and squeezes your waist gently before he steps back into the house. 

--

It was a while before Buck returned. He had disappeared into the house for half an hour and when he returned, you were by the pool with a pingpong ball in hand. 

“Suck it!” your loud laugh filled his ears, you took a sip from the red cup in your hand and you watched as the guy across from you drank the beer in the cup that the ball landed in. 

“Looks like you’re having fun” Buck smiles, now beside you. 

“Hey!” you reeked of beer at this point. “I’m having fun” your words come out in a slurred mumble. 

“Mhm okay, I think it’s time to head home” Buck takes the cup from you and sets it down. 

“What ?” Your hand reaches for the cup again, a pout evident on your face.

Buck’s hands finds your waist, hoisting you up and over his shoulder. A louder than expected gasp left your mouth, you felt the cold breeze against your legs as he walked towards the front of the yard. 

He put you down in the backseat of a car but you knew you came with his bike so you were confused, just as you go to ask, he scoots you over and gets in the back with you. Buck’s arm is over your shoulder, you’re so tired that you just lean into him. 

-- 

You had noticed you fell asleep and when you woke, you were on the porch swing at your house with Buck’s hand in your pocket. 

“Whatcha looking for?” he glances up at you when he hears your voice. 

“Keys.” 

“Other pocket” 

He manages to find the keys and get the door open. Getting you in the house was another story. “Y/n, come on” he pulls your hands in an attempt to get you up but you weren’t budging. 

What happened to you being a prep kid and not drinking ? He didn’t even think it was possible to get drunk that fast. 

“No, tired” you mumbles, making yourself comfortable on the porch swing. “Do you want your parents to come home and find you here? I’m cool with leaving you here if that’s the case” Buck teased, he had no idea when your parents were coming home. 

The mention of your parents finding you outside, drunk, horrified you. You got up so quick, you nearly toppled over. Buck helped you inside and onto the couch. He disappeared for a moment and then returned with a glass of water. 

“Small sips” he settles beside you, watching as you take a sip. You hum, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm comes over your shoulder. 

“Buck?” 

“Yeah?” 

He felt your head shift, now looking up at him, eyes full of sleep. You were studying his face, from the birthmark above his eye to his pink lips.

“I really like you, you know” your words filled with sleep as your eyes drooped, you blinked a few times, forcing yourself to stay awake.

Buck chuckles, “that’ll pass peach, I’m just a phase.” He hummed quietly, fingers running through your hair as you drift to sleep. 

--

The Monday after the party, you saw Buck in the hallway after waking up to an empty house on the couch, head pounding even in the deafening silence and and you can’t quite remember how you got home. 

Buck had been radio silence since then but you weren't sure why. He was walking in from the front doors and you were by your locker. You turn to speak to him but he barely glances at you before continuing his conversation with Johnson. 

From that day, you never spoke to Buck again. Last you saw him was graduation day and last you had heard was that he was in college and you were headed off to Harvard. 

----

Present.

You had become a big shot lawyer, everything your parents wanted. Moved out to LA to start your own firm and everything was going well until this morning. 

You had barely walked into the office when the fire alarm went off. The sudden alarm caused an onset of commotion in the office, the woman next to you bumped into you, spilling your hot cup of coffee onto you. 

She mumbled a sorry as she passed but you could feel the heat coming from where the liquid had spilt. Nonetheless, you made your way out, the sound of the sirens from fire trucks blaring. 

Not that you didn’t enjoy seeing the handsome firefighters (or so your co-workers seem to say) but you had a ton of paperwork to do for an upcoming case you had and you barely started. 

You stood by the curb, watching as the firefighters made their way over to the crowd and into the building to clear it. 

“Ma'am ?” A firefighter made his way over to you, there was a helmet in his hand as he passed a hand through his hair. You glance up from your phone, to see what he wanted. 

“May I take a look?” his eyes shifted to your chest where there is currently a coffee stain on your white shirt. “Oh, thank you but no. I’m fine” 

“Are you sure? Because that’ll leave a pretty nasty mark if you don't get it cleaned. If you aren’t comfortable, we have a female medic” he offered, hoping you’d consider. 

“You’re a medic ?” you asked, looking him up and down. He nods, taking a step back. He begins walking back to the ambulance and you follow him. “Do you want me to get her?” 

“No, you’re a professional, it’s cool” you give him a small smile before moving your shirt so he could check. 

The firefighter’s hand was now right under your collarbone, dabbing at your skin with some gauze. His fingers were cold, you weren’t sure if it was actually his fingers or the gloves that were cold but either way you looked at him. 

“What’s your name ?” 

“Diaz, Eddie Diaz” he tells you, flashing you a smile before going back to his job. 

You hum, staying still as Eddie rubs something on your skin. 

That’s when you saw him. 

The same blue eyes, the same blonde hair, the same gorgeous smile that always played in your mind. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of him. You had always wondered what he ended up doing, he was smart and destined for great things, there was more for him than a small life in a place where no one ever really did anything. 

Every guy you had dated, you compared to him. It was always something- they didn’t look like him, they didn’t act like him, they didn’t treat you the way he did, they wouldn't stand up for you like he did. 

He lived rent free in your mind. 

“Ma'am?” Eddie’s voice broke your gaze. “Y/n,” you corrected him, “ma’am is for old women” your eyes going back to Buck. Eddie noticed your lack of attention and followed your gaze. 

“Do you know Buck?” 

“He still lets people call him that ?” you chuckle to yourself, feeling Eddie’s eyes burning a hole into you. 

Before you could answer, his radio buzzed before a voice came through, “building’s clear. Start directing people back in.” Eddie looks over at you, you’re already getting out of the ambulance. 

“Keep that clean and dry” were his last words to you after you left. 

--- 

It wasn’t until you were back in the building that you realized your phone was in the ambulance. 

You were majorly screwed. 

Remembering the medic’s name which was the only thing you remember mids the confusion and seeing Buck after 10+ years. You asked around the office if anyone knew what station responded to the call. You had contacts that worked for the city but the lack of phone made it hard for you to call and find out. 

Finally giving in, you google the medic’s name. There were a few articles that had photos but none of them said anything that helped. There was a video from Taylor Kelly at channel 8 news, some sort of video about the fire station. 

Station 118- that was 10 minutes down the road and you pass it everyday on the way to work. The thoughts began filling your head, had Buck been there all along? 

12 years- 12 long, empty years that you acted like he didn’t exist and that you didn’t want to know what happened between you two but he was right down the road. 

You didn’t even know if you wanted to talk to him. You had finally come to peace with it even though a part of you will always long for what could have been. Feelings aside, you set out to the station to get your phone. 

Upon arriving, there were a few guys by the trucks. You asked for Eddie, assuming that he might have an idea of where your phone ended up or if they even found it. 

“Up the stairs and he should be somewhere up there” the guy pointed, you thanked him before heading towards the stairs. When you got upstairs, it was empty. 

You weren't sure if you should go back down or wait so you sort of awkwardly stood there, glancing around the room. The station was nicer than you had imagined it to be, not that you really had an idea of what to expect. 

Your back was to the kitchen when someone tapped your shoulder. “Can I help you?” his voice called out as you turned. 

Buck. 

You let out a breath, your eyes studying his perfect face for a moment. Do you say something or just pretend like you didn’t know him?

“Yeah, I'm uh- I'm looking for Eddie. I think I left my phone in the ambulance.” 

“Do I know you from somewhere ?” 

“I work at the building down the road, 14th street. You guys were there earlier, hence the phone in the ambulance” you tell him, hoping he drops the topic. 

“Y/n! Hey! What are you doing here?” You see Eddie call from behind Buck. 

Thank god. 

“I left my phone in the ambulance. I figured you’d know what happened to it” you’ve stepped past Buck and towards Eddie now. “I haven’t seen it, but maybe it’s still in there. Come with me, we can check for it” 

Eddie was making his way down the stairs and you were behind him when Buck called your name. 

Not y/n. 

Peach. 

You paused, taking a deep breath in before turning to face him. “I thought I remembered you from somewhere” he smiled, him and his stupid smile. 

“I’m in a rush, Evan. Plus, I'm not in the mood to reminisce.” 

The smile dropped from his face, the guilt crept up on you. The feeling of your stomach twisting, sighing before making your way down to Eddie who was by the ambulance, your phone in hand. 

“There’s more to the story than I thought,” Eddie hands the phone over, you give him a hum and thank him. “Let me walk you out.” he follows you out to your car. 

“You know, whatever he did- he’s changed. He’s a good guy.” Eddie says, his voice sincere. 

“I know, I just- I don't know” 

“What did he do? If I can ask” 

“We were- I don't know what we were. We hung out in high school, just once but he was different from the other guys. He genuinely cared. We went to a party together and he brought me home after. I remember falling asleep with him in the house and the next morning he was gone. Total radio silence that whole weekend and when I saw him at school the following week, he acted like he didn’t know me - it was like that for the rest of senior year. We never spoke after that.” 

Here you were pouring your heart out to a firefighter who you had only met an hour ago who also had seen your bare chest (in a professional way, of course)  on a Tuesday morning in the parking lot. 

“Wow- I can see why you wouldn’t want to talk to him.”

“Yeah, thank you for the phone though. I gotta get back to work” 

“Wait, let me get your number” 

You pause, looking at him with furrowed brows. He seemed confused then he realized how that sounded. “Oh god- no not like that, sorry. I meant maybe we could grab a drink sometimes, as friends and maybe you could tell me more about high school Buck ?” 

“Um- yes to the number and drinks but I don’t know about Buck” you hand the phone back over to him, telling him that you’d text him. 

--- 

It was a while before you heard from Eddie, he said he was off on Saturday if you were up for drinks and weren't busy. The whole team was going out but he invited you along to join them. 

After some back and forth “I couldn't intrude” and “you won’t be, come join us” you finally gave in. 

Now it’s 9pm and you, Eddie and Buck are sitting at a booth. Coincidentally, everyone else was busy. Chimney and Hen who you hadn’t met yet, were with their significant others and kids. So that left the 3 of you together. 

You wanted to walk back out when you saw it was only the two of them but Eddie had seen you and called you over. His phone buzzed just as Buck came back with drinks. 

“Everything okay?” Buck asked his friend, Eddie, still typing away on his phone. “Huh? Yeah, it’s Carla. Chris is running a fever” you could hear the concern in his voice. 

“Chris is your son?” 

“Yeah- I'm sorry I got to go. I’ll make it up to you. Drinks on me another night” Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze as he stood. 

“No yeah, of course. Go, it’s fine” you smiled. 

“Let me know if you need anything” Buck shifts towards Eddie, the two of them seem to have some sort of routine or way of how things work between them.  

And now there were two. 

Buck sipped on his beer, you sat across from him, your nails tapping against the bottle in front of you. He was the first one to speak.

“So, how have you been?”

“Good. You?”

“Good too. I don’t know if you remember my sister but she had a baby recently so I've been hanging out with her after work”

“Oh, that’s nice. Maddie right?”

“Yeah, she had a little girl. She’s the cutest little girl ever.” Buck pulls his phone out, showing you a photo of him holding a baby in a blanket with a brunette beside him. The woman beside him, Maddie you assumed, was smiling at Buck, fixing the blanket while he looked at the camera, the joy evident on his face.

“She’s adorable and your sister looks the same, she hasn’t aged a day” you hum, passing the phone over to him.

Back to awkward silence.

“What happened to us?” Buck’s question catches you off guard.

“What happened to us? You happened.”

“What? I thought we were friends.” Your eyes met, his full of confusion and yours with displeasure.

“Friends don’t disappear in the middle of the night with no explanation and ignore them for the rest of senior year.” You get up, grab your phone and make your way to the door. Buck’s calling out to you but you don’t want to stop and talk to him.

The night was cold, the wind hit your bare shoulders and you shivered for a moment before walking. Buck was still calling out your name, he had followed you out the bar.

“Y/n! Stop! Y/n, c’mon. Please!” His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. You pull your hand back.

“No! You don’t get to do that. Act like everything is fine when you disappeared with no explanation. I know we weren’t best friends but I thought we were at least friends. That fucking hurt, Evan.”

“Fine,” he sighs, looking at you. “You want the truth ?” Your brows raised, waiting for him to continue.

“You told me you liked me. You were a good kid, going to Harvard, which you obviously did” gesturing at you, he continued. “I didn’t know what I wanted and I didn’t want you to feel like you needed to be by my side until I figured it out. I knew you would resent me for that and I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t do it to myself.”

“That’s selfish. It’s about you ? That’s why you left with no explanation ? You couldn’t do it to yourself ? Man the fuck up Buck, life isn’t about you.” 

“You think I don’t know that ?! You think I didn’t think about you all the time? That I didn’t miss you?” 

“Don’t start with that shit. You knew where I would be. You said it yourself, I was “a good kid, going to Harvard” so if you really missed me, you could have found me.” 

“Y/n, be real. We were just out of high school, what means did I have to go searching for you? I had my own shit to deal with.” 

“Just stop, I don’t even want to know.” 

“No, you stop” 

“No you.” 

“Y/n” his voice was stern, the annoyance clearly there. 

“Evan.” your tone matched his.

That stupid smug smile of his was on his face, that was enough to make you roll your eyes. “’Kay, I'm over your shit.” turning away from him, you go to walk away but his hand grabs yours. 

Still fit like it was made to be there. 

Before you could register what was happening, Buck’s lips were on yours. Maybe time stopped when Buck’s lips met yours but your heart didn’t- it felt like it was beating a million times seconds and the butterflies in your stomach were restless. 

It wasn't clear to either of you at the moment that it had started pouring rain but it didn’t matter. There was this raw emotion in the way his hands felt on your waist or how his chest was pressed to yours. 

Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t open his eyes slightly, sneaking a guilty peek at you just to make sure you weren’t a fiction of his imagination. Every breath he took smelt of lavender and honey, the same scent that had lingered on his mind since the day he met you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible. 

Maybe this was meant to be, fate bringing back what was meant for him to him or maybe this really was all a fabrication of his imagination but he wanted to live in his moment forever. 

It wasn't until thunder rumbled that he pulled away. The rain had soaked your clothes and hair, your makeup had smudged and half of your lipstick was on Buck. 

The same stupid smug smile on his face.

“God,” rolling your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.” wiping your lips with the back on your hand, hoping that you got all the lipstick off. 

“Yeah, I'm the annoying one” Buck’s face twisted, giving you a playful shove as you stepped towards him. Your thumb comes up to wipe the lipstick off him. Buck’s arm lifts, now over your shoulder. 

The two of you looked at each other as you made your way down the street. 

“Just a phase huh ?” you hum, glancing at Buck. 

The blonde let out a chuckle, “maybe not.” 

--- 

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @spencersendgame​ @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @wowitsel @mrspeacem1nusone​ @jillys-feral-fandoms @iris-oaklee-carter-911oc @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @babybuckleys @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13@artemishunter18​ @may-grants​ @floralbuckleys​ @mrs-dr-reid​

[rubykgrant]

(Here’s the beginning of the interview Andrews has with Sarge, so she can share what the Reds and Blues have been up to with the universe)

“Well, I’m not sure where you want to start-”

“I WAS BORN 29 YEARS AGO, I CAME INTO THIS WORLD WEARING RED ARMOR, AND I’LL GO OUT OF THIS WORLD WEARING RED ARMOR!”

“Now, now…” Andrews said, her voice both amused and patient. “I won’t be exposing any secrets you want to keep, you’ll have the final word on what information I share publicly, but between the two of us? Let’s try to keep things simple, and honest. After all, we ARE on a first-name basis!”

The old soldier was quiet a moment. A short moment, but for Sarge, being quiet was about as rare as hen’s teeth.

“Fair enough, Dylan…” he answered at last. “But the name is one of the things we keep quiet about, understand?”

“Absolutely… can I ask one question, though? Just for my own curiosity,” her curiosity often got the best of her, and certainly created problems occasionally… but that was why she was a reporter. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction is what kept bringing her back.

“Hmph. Fine. Shoot,”

“I’ve never heard a name like yours before. Just what was the inspiration when it was chosen for you?”

Another quiet moment. Andrews was beginning to think he was simply going to ignore the question, and if that was the case, she would move on rather than press the subject. However-

“When I was born, which was MORE than 29 years ago, I ADMIT IT… m’family didn’t name me right away. Not too many infants survived their first few weeks back then… it was a different world back then, see- you’re too young, you never lived in a war-zone, but that’s what it was like. So, they waited to see if… well, you know how you’re not supposed to name anything, or else you’ll get attached? ‘Folks were worried about getting attached to ME, because maybe I wasn’t even gonna live too long… but a few weeks went by, then a couple months, and I was still breathin’!” he chuckled a bit to himself before continuing.

“I guess I was the only baby that made it, and the group of survivors my family stayed with- they all supported each other. A whole bunch of people took turns watching over this little bundle of joy! Everybody had a different name they liked to call me, and when it was time to give me a REAL name… it all got combined together. One big name, from more than a dozen different people, who all came from different places, and spoke different languages… I was the only baby any of them had, so I suppose they gave me all the names of… their kids who weren’t with them…”

“That’s… oh, Sarge, I don’t know what to say, that’s INCREDIBLE… it might be the sweetest thing’ I’ve ever heard-” it was true, Andrews didn’t know what it was like to be born directly into a war-zone; and at the time the man sitting in front of her was a child, the Earth had been under attack by enemies from outer space… not to mention all the never-ending fights between humans who decided they hated other humans enough to kill each other. No, she hadn’t lived through that, but she had seen documents and footage.

Many towns and cities were destroyed, and groups of people would try to band together; they formed new little communities, some traveling like nomads, others attempting to stay out in one place, but all generally learning to rely on one another for safety and survival. Generations of children were lost during this time… from injury, illness, or lack of food. To think that she was now speaking to somebody who had grown up in that world, protected and nurtured by an extended-family of people who had been brought together by necessity, but stayed together by choice. That choice had, in fact, been to make sure a child could LIVE.

“I know, I know! Tragic and heart-warming… it’s practically Oscar-bait! But remember what we agreed on, not a word to anybody else! Bad enough that whipper-snapper apple-Jax knows…” he grumbled.

“Yes, I understand…” she couldn’t help but get a little choked-up, though.

“And, for the record- I mean, this is OFF the record, make sure to keep it that way! But just so YOU know, I’m not a bit embarrassed about my name! That’s not why I don’t wanna share it… it’s just…” Sarge seemed to struggle to find the words. “The people who named me are gone. All of them. And this wasn’t just my name, it was the name they gave me… someday, I’m probably going to die on a battlefield, being taken out by an enemy, and God-willing, I’ll be wearing my RED ARMOR- but when that happens, whoever kills me… I don’t wanna hear them saying that name. It was good name that good people gave me, so… so…”

“… you don’t want somebody who hates you to use the name that was made by people who loved you,” Andrews finished.

“Hurrrgh- if you WANT to read into it like that and add lots of mushy, emotional subtext, sure!” Sarge made several grunts and groans, crossing his arms across his chest and turning his helmet away to avoid looking at her.

“You are a surprisingly deep and sensitive individual, Sarge…” Andrews marveled.

“NO I AIN’T! YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW! I AM A ONE-DIMENSIONAL CHARACTER, A FLAT STEREO-TYPE OF ALL GRUFF MILITARY MEN, AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT!”

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x reader)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about reader’s past. Reader and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Y/N playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love. 

She maneuvered the bins to her satisfaction and shut the closet doors, pushing against them to squeeze everything in until the latch clicked. She turned to see him watching her and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. She gave him a wink and a grin, and he was falling all over again. 

She perched on the corner of her desk with a tired sigh, and he made his way across the room to her. She reached for him as soon as he was within arms length, wrapping her arms around his middle. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily. 

“Yo, Y/L/N!” 

The call of her name from the hallway startled them both. Anita began to step over the threshold, continuing, “You ready to get absolutely crunk tonight or— oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes tracking Spencer’s frame. “Dr. Reid.”

Spencer stepped back from Y/N, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Y/N. “So, are we going out or what?”

Y/N groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Y/N chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Y/N stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Y/N was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor. 

They’d met up with her and Sam at a Mexican restaurant in Tenleytown. Sam was wonderfully kind and funny, even apologizing for having “flipped him the bird” the last time she saw him. And it was a good thing Sam was being friendly, because Anita was decidedly… less so. 

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Y/N’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Y/N’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t. 

Thankfully, Y/N and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool. 

“Y/N is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Y/N insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. 

“The field trip!” Y/N turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously. 

“So many things,” Sam baited. 

Y/N covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening. 

“Okay, so many things happened,” Y/N started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Y/N composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured. 

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Y/N agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in. 

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Y/N turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.” 

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Y/N clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Y/N dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles. 

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Y/N lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space. 

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Y/N reminded him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Y/N complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” 

She gave Spencer a reassuring smile, and he tried not to panic as she stood and left him with Sam and Anita. And because the universe was toying with him, at that exact moment, Sam’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket with a sigh. 

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first. 

“You know what’s annoying?”

Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Considering that the issues one might classify as an annoyance vary for each individual person, there are over seven billion potential answers to that question.”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She dropped her hand back to the table. She still didn’t crack a smile, and her gaze bore into him. “I don’t know how much you know about Owen, and she’d probably kill me for saying anything. But he was a real piece of shit.”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Y/N might have been with before him. 

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “The point is, I didn’t know he was treating her like garbage until it was too late. He was already all…” She gestured wildly around her head. “In her head, telling her lies about herself, fucking her up, isolating her. For years he did that. And then it took her years to get him out of her head. To— unlearn all the lies. To build herself back up.” 

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Y/N had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored. 

“You’re a fed or whatever, so I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she continued, “but I would love nothing more than to put that fucker six feet under.” She ran her hand through her hair, and when she continued her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “All that to say, I… I wasn’t there for her when Owen was destroying her from the inside out. And I will never let that happen again.” 

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze, and he couldn’t quite think of the appropriate response. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His brain was still fixated on the idea that anyone had ever hurt the loveliest and kindest woman he’d ever met.

“Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Y/N slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee. 

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Y/N with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Y/N with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment. 

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs. 

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy. 

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door. 

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips. 

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face at the endearment, the way that North Carolina dripped syrupy and thick over every syllable. She pulled him down to meet her in a sweet kiss, quickly deepening it as he dug his fingers into the softness of her hips. Her hands wound into his hair, tugging lightly and holding him close. 

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. She laced their fingers together and leaned on him while she kicked off her shoes. He toed his own off and then allowed her to lead him toward his bedroom. 

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again. 

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

“Ha, ha.” Part of him wanted to bring up Owen, but she was so happy and warm and comfortable in this moment. He didn’t want to ruin this night of celebration. He didn’t want to ruin this day that had been so full of love. They had plenty of time to discuss Owen. 

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

A week later, the pair of them were strolling up the sidewalk to the LaMontagne house. Will and JJ were long overdue for a date night, and Spencer had jumped at the opportunity for the two of them to babysit. When they reached the door, Spencer rang the bell and Y/N waited slightly behind him. 

They could hear the joy from behind the door before it even opened, Michael’s high pitched giggle and Will’s booming laugh. Spencer was already leaning down in preparation, and Michael absolutely launched into his arms as soon as the door swung open. Spencer clocked the moment that Michael spotted her, purely because he practically squealed and squirmed right out of Spencer’s grip. 

“I knew it!” Michael cried. 

He wrapped himself around Y/N’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Y/N forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.”

Y/N’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?” 

Michael waited patiently for her to take off her shoes. “Well firstly, he started picking me up all the time, which was nice but weird. And then he wouldn’t stop asking about you. It was kind of annoying.” Spencer made a choking sound, and Will stifled a laugh. 

“You guys wear the same shoes, and you both love Halloween and tea and reading. I knew you’d like him if he could be a guest reader.” As he led her into the living room, Michael continued, “Oh, and you wore his purple scarf. He doesn’t let anyone wear the purple scarf.”

Spencer vividly remembered that morning— she’d slept over after a midweek date night in April. The temperatures in DC had plummeted overnight, and the outfit she’d brought left her woefully under-dressed for the chilly spring day. He’d wrapped her up in the soft, purple scarf without a second thought. 

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Y/N into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

Spencer pulled his legs up in the tiny chair, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a moment to watch the scene in front of him unfold. Usually on nights like this, Michael ran him ragged with demands for magic tricks, story time, and playing pretend. Tonight, he’d actually been able to catch up with middle school (middle school!) Henry, because Michael was totally and completely enthralled by Y/N. 

She was helping with the last of the setup for the “restaurant,” organizing Michael’s menus and straightening his clip-on tie. Of course he’d seen her with kids before. But something about being in this playroom— one that he’d spent so many hours in, watching two of his favorite kids grow up— had him feeling warm from head to toe. 

Henry had bounded down the stairs at the news that uncle Spencer was dating his former kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t realized that she’d taught Henry, too, although with the timeline of her teaching career he should have put two and two together. The generally reserved middle schooler had positively beamed when she gasped out, “Gosh, I always forget how tall you’ve gotten!”

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Hen!” Michael called. 

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him. 

Y/N tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”

“No, no, no.” Michael pushed her toward the kid-sized table. “You and uncle Spencer are on a fancy date.”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully and stood from the chair, pulling it out for her like a perfect gentleman. She beamed at him and gave him a wink. “Thank you, sir.”

She dropped lightly into the chair across from Spencer and laughed a little at his folded limbs. “You look very comfortable.” 

He laughed and stretched his legs out straight. “The picture of comfort, really. These chairs were clearly designed with six foot men in mind.”

“I’m sorry I’m so under-dressed for our fancy dinner date,” she teased, dropping her chin into her hand. 

“You look stunning, as always.” He gestured to the messy braid Michael had folded her hair into. “I especially love what you’re doing with your hair.”

She sucked in a dramatic breath, bringing up her hand to pat lightly at her hair. “You’re making me blush, doctor.” She peeked behind her and then lowered her voice. “I’m probably going to cry when I try to brush the rats out.” 

He looked at her sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I think I’ve got a wide tooth comb, and I can help. I’ve gotten pretty good at detangling Michael’s handiwork.”

Before she could respond, Michael made his way to the table, holding a dish towel over his arm. “Good evening, sir, madam.” 

“Good evening,” they chorused, with barely suppressed grins. 

“Compliments of the chef.” Michael held out his hand to reveal two slightly smushed strawberries.

“Oh, wow,” Y/N said, eyes wide and gesturing to Spencer. “Honey, do you want to—”

Spencer waved his hand, eyeing the berries warily. “No, no, please, help yourself.”

Y/N held back a smile and accepted the strawberries, holding them carefully in her hand and turning her attention back to Michael. “Thank you so much. What a wonderful appetizer. Could we hear the specials?”

That helped Michael remember the menus, and he pulled them from his pocket and cleared his throat. He handed them the construction paper menus. “Our specials tonight are roasted octopus and a steak tartar.”

From the kitchen, Henry mumbled, “Tartare.” 

“Tartare. Steak tartare is our special,” Michael corrected. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m that adventurous. Maybe my boyfriend is though,” Y/N told a grinning Michael. “What do you recommend for a picky eater?”

“My favorite is the chicken nuggets.”

“Well then, sign me up. One order of chicken nuggets.” Y/N handed him the menu. 

Spencer was still perusing the menu for Le Chateau LaMontagne. He smiled at Michael’s handwriting, but particularly at the places where he could tell Y/N had helped. “Everything looks delicious,” he finally decided, “but, you know... I think I’m also going to have the nuggets.”

…

When the boys were finally in bed, Spencer and Y/N settled down in the living room to untangle the mess of her hair. She sat on the floor in between his legs as he gently pulled each braid strand free. He smiled at the way she arched up into his touch, shivering when his fingers brushed over her neck. 

“You’re lucky,” he remarked, laying the last braid strand back into its original place. “Michael seems to have gotten a little better at braiding.”

She leaned her head back into his hands. “You detangled the whole thing?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. She brought her hands up to hold him against her, trying to deepen the kiss before laughing at the awkward angle and giving up. 

He sat up as she stood and moved to the couch, snuggling up close to him and tucking herself under his arm. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed. “For many reasons.”

Her hand drifted to rest on his tummy, her fingers immediately tracing little shapes over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “And tired, too.”

“Hmm?” 

He leaned his cheek against her head. “When you get tired, you, um— you start drawing on my stomach.” 

Her finger paused. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She shifted to raise her head to look at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve just— noticed.”

She smiled a little sleepily. “You know I love all of you. But I— well, I don’t know, really. I just like your tummy.” She gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s just— nice and comfy and perfect for resting on.” 

He covered her hand with his own and leaned forward to press their mouths together. She drew his bottom lip in between her own, sucking a little and then giving it a quick peck before pulling back and stifling a yawn into his chest. “Man, I am tired.” She snuggled back into him and resumed her tummy tracing. “What, um— what else have you noticed?”

He rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her impossibly closer. “You like to play with my hair.”

“Mmmm, guilty as charged.”

He smiled at the sleep creeping into her voice. “I like it, too.” He ran his fingers up to her shoulder, and then back down to the crook of her arm, soothing her closer to sleep. “Hmmmm. You always have at least one point of contact on my body at all times. It’s usually your hands, but sometimes it’s your head or even your toes— like when you tuck them under my leg.”

“Ugh— I’m sorry. Clingy and putting my feet on you,” she mumbled.

She might have been joking, but Anita’s words were replaying in his head. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past. He couldn’t go back and prevent her from being hurt by someone else. But he could be different in every way. He could be open and honest and vulnerable with her like he’d promised. 

“I’m not sorry. I love all of you,” he murmured, pulling her in closer and repeating her words back to her. 

“Even my feet?” 

He could also show her that there was absolutely nothing that he didn’t love about her. “Especially your feet.”

She huffed a sigh into his chest. “Y’got a foot thing I don’t know about?”

He laughed a little at that. “Only for yours. They’re very cute feet.”

“You’re weird,” she muttered, but she hugged him tighter when she said it.

“You love it.”

Her fingers on his tummy had come to rest comfortably just above his waistband, and he knew she was on the very edge of sleep. “Mmhm. Love you.”

He thought of all the little moments over the past few months.

Doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for overstepping. Are we dating? Sorry for being clingy. Sorry for taking so long to tell you. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “So much.”

———

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[coldflame96]

Wrapped up in you

Summary: Sharing a scarf with your girl when you don’t like things around your neck is something that can be so personal..

Rating: T

Also found on AO3 and FF.net

Based off that picture in the very last scene with Kyoru sharing a scarf <3

“Wow!" He heard her gasp. "It's snowing!" But then she furrowed her brow. "But it was so mild this morning."

Neither of them had brought coats with them, but Tohru brought her scarf with the pom poms. She really loved that thing and it was cute.

"Kyo-kun," she grabbed his hand. "Are you cold?"

He didn't think he could ever truly be cold as long as she was around.

But he did shiver a bit. "A little. The temperature really dropped."

"Well here!" She took her scarf off, handing it to him. "Maybe this will help."

He knocked her head gently. "Then you'll get cold, dummy."

"I'll be okay!" She waved her arms. "I don't want you to get sick!"

He could tell this was gonna go nowhere fast. He rolled his eyes fondly and grabbed the scarf. She looked at him expectantly and he got an idea. It was cheesy, but knowing her, she'd probably love it.

He pulled her in closer, wrapping one end of the scarf around her neck, and the other end very loosely around his own.

"There." He said triumphantly, breath visible, "now neither of us have to be cold." He punctuated with a gentle whack with one of the poms and she giggled. He paused and then whacked her again. "Huh, this is kinda fun."

He was met with a whack on his own cheek with his girlfriend grinning impishly. "You're right, it is."

He gently whacked her again, this time pressing the pom right on top of her nose, shaking it as she tried to bat it away.

She tried to do a little twirl but the scarf wasnt quite long enough for that so she just did an awkward twist. The temperature was dropping by a lot and her nose was starting to turn red.

He leaned over to kiss it and she gave a questioning look.

He shrugged. "It looked cold."

She grabbed his hand, peeking at him from under her lashes. "I think my lips are cold too."

Subtle. He cradled her face and kissed her gently. "Better?"

"Still feels pretty cold."

He hummed, kissing her again. It was something he never really got tired of doing. She fisted her hands in his uniform jacket as he just kissed her slowly, careful to keep it chaste.

"Oi, lovebirds," he jumped when he felt a hand slap his back and saw Uotani to his side. She smirked. "When you're done being gross, you might wanna actually head home before you turn into snowmen." She put her arm over her head like a visor. "It's supposed to snow all night."

"Oh really?" Tohru asked. "I had work tonight."

She grunted. "So did I. But I called off. You should too."

She frowned. "I wouldn't wanna trouble them-"

He'd heard enough. "You're not walking to work in a blizzard. If you don't wanna call off, then just have Momiji do it for you. His dad owns the place."

She bit her lip. "I suppose…"

"Momiji Sohma is quite fond of you," Hanajima came out of nowhere. "I would imagine he wouldn't expect you to risk yourself in such weather."

"C'mon, we should go." Uotani said, wrapping an arm around Tohru's neck. "It's already cold and it’s only supposed to get worse."

She relented and he followed behind her closely, the scarf still hanging off his neck.

"Apparently we're supposed to get 15 cm," he heard Uotani say vaguely.

Tohru clapped her hands in excitement. "Really? Wow. We could play in the snow!"

"We could have a snowball fight." And then Uotani smirked. "Betcha I could beat Kyon."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't start a fight you can't finish, Yankee."

She snorted. "Yeah okay. You know your ‘bad boy’ image is ruined with that scarf around your neck."

He shrugged. It wasn't like he had anything to be embarrassed about.

Tohru was talking to Hanajima now about something, her face lit up. He smiled softly. She was happy and that's all he cared about.

The wind was really picking up and everyone in the group did a full-body shudder. It really was getting freezing and the snow was sinking into his clothes uncomfortably. Tohru was trying to hide it, but she was shivering. How did she manage to wear skirts in this kind of weather?

They parted ways with Uotani and Hanajima and no sooner than they rounded the corner, he wrapped his arms around Tohru's waist from behind.

"Are you cold?" He whispered.

She nodded. "Only a little."

He kissed her temple. "C'mon, let's get home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they got into the doorway, her teeth were chattering and he rubbed her arms to try and warm her up.

"My, my, my," he heard Shigure say from the kitchen door and he looked up to see him standing there, looking way too amused. "I understand you kids are in love, but there is a time and place."

"Piss off," he snapped. "It's snowing and freezing outside."

"Well, that's why coats exist." He said smugly. "Honestly, Kyo-kun, do you not ever check the weather forecasts?

He was gonna punch this asshole. He felt a light tug on his shirt and he brought his attention back to his currently shivering girlfriend.

"D-do y-you m-m-m-mind if I shower first? I...c-can w-wait if you w-want to."

He pushed her back gently towards the bathroom. "Go shower before you get sick."

"O-okay."

It was once he heard the bathwater running that Shigure turned back to him, smirking. "Nice scarf." He gave him a flat look in response, which he took as a cue to continue talking. "Tsk, tsk, you made a rookie mistake just now."

"What are you talking about?" He asked on impulse, and then came to the conclusion that maybe he shouldn't have.

Shigure's grin only grew wider. "When a beautiful woman you're with is going to the shower, it's only natural you offer to join her."

Kyo grabbed him by the collar, growling, "Don’t talk about her like that, you fucking creep. I’ll kill you!”

"Scary~" And then something else seemed to come to him. "Where's Yuki-kun? Don't tell me you left him out there."

"How should I know? He was never even with us."

And that was when the phone rang. Shigure waved, saying "I'll let you handle that” and then went back to his own room, hopefully to die.

He scoffed. He didn't usually answer the phone but he had a good idea who it was.

"Hello?" He sighed out.

"Kyo?" Yuki's voice came through the speaker. He sounded surprised, which was fair.

"Yeah?"

"Where’s Honda-san?"

"In the shower.

"I see. when she gets out, tell her not to save me any dinner. The weather's getting bad so I went home with Kakeru."

"Fine. That it?"

"Yeah."

"Great. See ya."

"Wait."

"What?"

"You and Honda-san are alone...don't do anything stupid."

His face heated up. "Shigure's here, you jackass." He gritted. And probably eavesdropping. "And that's none of your business."

"Oh, he's actually home?"

"Yeah."

"My condolences."

"Whatever. Anything else?"

"No. You can hang up now."

And he was about to do just that but something paused him. "Oi."

"What?"

"You too," he mumbled through gritted teeth because he really didn't wanna think about Yuki doing anything like that. "Don’t do anything stupid."

A pause and then a "Thanks" before the line went dead.

"Oh, was that Yuki-kun?" He heard Tohru behind him, her skin flushed from the steam and her hair still damp. “Is he alright?”

He grunted in affirmation, trying not to look at how a stray water droplet ran down her neck. "He's fine. He's at Manabe's, so don't wait up for him on dinner."

She made to hug him, but then reeled back. "Kyo-kun, you need to get out of those wet clothes! You'll get sick."

If it were just them, he would suggest she help him with that, but Shigure was here and he was not gonna give him the satisfaction of that.

He patted her head. "I'm going."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Without work to go to, her and Kyo-kun took the night in. She had already changed into her sleepwear (which consisted of one of his shirts that was way too big on her and a pair of flannel pants).  

He had changed too, in a loose long-sleeve and a pair of sweatpants.

With Shigure-san here, they couldn't exactly do anything more than kiss, so they'd just ended up watching a movie.

He'd fallen asleep halfway through and was currently clinging to her, head on her chest.

She could really admire him without being questioned when he was asleep, how his nose wasn’t set completely straight, the smattering of light freckles on the bridge that were more pronounced in the summer.

She lightly stroked his strong jawline and his arms tightened around her waist.

She smiled to herself. He was such a cute sleeper. She lightly threaded her fingers through his fiery hair, noting how it curled around his ears now.

It's getting so long..

She heard her phone vibrate from the nightstand and strained to reach it without disturbing her sleeping boyfriend.

She saw the message was from Uo-chan and then shot up in alarm at the attachment.

She heard a light groan and saw Kyo-kun blearily blinking his eyes open and she felt a little guilty.

"Wha's goin' on?" He mumbled.

"Uo-chan just sent me something."

He hummed. "'Splains why you woke me up."

She was pretty sure he was being sarcastic based off the grumpy look on his face but paired with the messy hair, it didn't have much of an effect.

"Look at this." She shoved the phone under his nose and watched him squint as he put his own hand over hers.

It was a picture of them, sharing the scarf with snow falling around them. Neither of them were looking at the camera but she was chatting with Hana-chan, though the angle of the photo cut her poor friend off, and Kyo-kun just watched her, looking content.

He normally hated getting pictures taken so it was rare to see him so relaxed in one.

"Was this from today?" He asked.

"Yep! Uo-chan took it." Then she cocked her head. "I wonder how she managed to do it without us noticing."

He stretched, his shirt riding above his waist, which she attempted to steadfastly ignore for her own sanity.  

"Probably because I wasn't looking at her."

He always said things like that so easily and it was a marvel each time.

"I know you hate pictures," she started hesitantly, "but do you mind if I keep this one?"

"I don't mind pictures," he said softly. "Not with you, anyway."

She blushed, smiling to herself. "Right." She put one foot down on the carpet. "I'll go ask Shigure-san if I can borrow his printer."

A warm hand grabbed her wrist. "Do it tomorrow," he said. "It's late." And then he slumped on top of her. "I want my pillow back."

He was actually pouting and it was quite possibly one of the most adorable things she’d ever seen.  

She just stared at the picture of them, smiling softly, Kyo-kun’s chin on her shoulder.

"You look cute," he murmured.

"I look the same as always, don't I?"

"Yeah."

He was warm. Like a steady heater on her back. It made her feel sleepy.

At some point, she’d been gently coaxed on her back again, eyes heavy and her boyfriend a comforting weight on her chest. She managed to text Uo-chan a 'Thank you' through bleary eyes before letting sleep take her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, she bought a frame and added the picture to her shelf next to her mother and Kyo-kun’s beads.

“You’re such a sap,” he’d said when he walked in and saw it.

But he couldn’t hide how his eyes kept softening when they landed on it.

Not from her.

[lihikainanea]

The Accident - Part 2

Oh, hi there. Do you like...need something? Are you waiting on me for something? Whatever could it be? 

:-P

This is one of my longest pieces for them, Parts 1 and 2 clocking in at somewhere around 17,000 words.

Tiger has a car accident and has some pretty lasting damage.

Trigger warnings: there’s mention of a car accident, a few broken bones, and of course, the after effects of the accident. I didn’t go into detail on any of it but as always, if you think I missed a trigger or if you’re not sure and have questions before you read, just shoot me a line :-)

This one was a long time coming so I hope you enjoy. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for being so loud about it when I needed the support and encouragement to finish it.

Part One is here.

Thank you guys, for loving these two idiots as much as I do. Enjoy, and be loud if you love it xoxo

****

You swore that you had never seen any of these people before in your life. You knew that Bill had spoken to them beforehand, warned them that you looked a little banged up and that you wouldn’t recognize anybody, and while part of you was annoyed the other part was pretty thankful. He hadn’t mentioned it to you, but he had also warned them that you got frustrated and overwhelmed pretty easily, and that you still couldn’t handle loud noises or bright lights. No music, no loud conversations, no coming at you from all angles. They promised him that they would keep it small at the beginning—just the close group of friends—and they would set up quietly in the living room for at least an hour, just chatting and answering any questions you may have before other people arrived.

“There’s going to be eight people when we get there,” he had told you in the car, “The rest will come after.”

“I’m nervous,” you admitted softly, fidgeting with your coat, “I want so bad to remember people.”

“You won’t kid,” he said. He had meant it kindly, but you bristled. He sighed.

“Tiger listen to me,” he put the car in park and turned to you, “If at any point you want out—for whatever reason—you say so, okay?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him.

“I mean it,” he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, “Just look at me and like…tug your ear or something. Say pineapple. Anything. Just give me a sign and I’ll get you out, deal?”

He held out his pinky.

“Deal,” you mumbled, hooking your finger around his.

“Seal it,” he commanded. He held his thumb out to tap yours, but instinctively you leaned forward and pressed your lips softly to his. When you pulled away, you were both wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry,” you stammered, “I don’t know why I just did that.”

“No no, it’s okay,” he grinned wide and happy, “That’s uh, how we used to seal it. Good job, kid.”

“Right, of course we used to kiss to seal it,” you sighed, but there was some humour behind it, “Look bud, maybe there’s still a lot I need to learn about us, but it sounds like we got some shit we need to figure out.”

His wry smile ended the conversation, as you unbuckled your seat belt and took a deep breath.

Your friends were incredible about the entire thing. The music was on very low when you walked in, nobody rushing to greet you but instead saying a polite hello and giving you space. Bill took your jacket from you, hanging it up in the hallway closet before leading you to the living room. Your friends were gathered there—sitting on the floor, on the sofas, on chairs placed across the room. You wondered how to break into conversation, but Bill eased you into a chair and put a hand on your shoulder.

“So we figured it would be helpful,” he started, “If everyone just re-introduced themselves to you. These are our closest friends, tiger.”

You surveyed the group, kind faces and easy smiles staring back at you.

“That would be great,” you gave a sheepish shrug, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember any of you.”

Your comment wasn’t met with judgment, and thankfully you noted that it wasn’t met with pity either; just understanding nods and reassuring smiles. Bill took a seat next to you and you shot him a grateful look, but there was a clambering as someone—a guy, not as tall as Bill but still somewhat handsome—dove for the seat on your other side. He smiled at you but it instantly made you uncomfortable—something in the way he leered, the way he kept his gaze fixated on you, struck a bad chord. You shrugged it off, focusing on the person speaking as they went around one by one to introduce themselves. They told you a bit about who they were, how you had met, what they did in life. You snickered at some of the memories of you they shared, looking to Bill who would nod in confirmation that it did indeed happen.

But sure enough, when it came around to the man on your right, as he introduced himself he placed a hand high on your thigh and squeezed. You stiffened immediately, a jolt of discomfort shooting through you for a reason you couldn’t name, and you grabbed onto his wrist and lifted it from your leg.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said curtly, placing his hand back by his side.

Not wanting to overwhelm you or make you feel like you were the centre of attention, after initial introductions were made, the small crowd dispersed to mingle amongst themselves. You chatted with a few of them and your heart swelled at how kind they seemed to be—you felt safe. Nobody was judging you, nobody looked worried or anxious around you, nobody regarded you strangely when you would ask them for details about your own life. Bill always stayed in your line of vision but didn’t hover, even allowing himself to relax a little when he heard your laughter ring crisp through the air.

It was only when you took a small break from chatting; when your stomach rumbled so you headed to the snack table, grabbing a chip and scooping it through the dip—that you heard him call out.

“Tiger wait!” Bill said rushing to you. You paused, your mouth open in preparation for a bite, your hand stilled in mid-air.

“What did I do?” You asked cautiously. 

“You hate green onions kid,” Bill said. You looked at the chip, drenched in the dip and absolutely smothered in green onions.

“Maybe—” another male voice rang out behind you, and before you could even turn around there was an arm around your shoulder, “Maybe we let her decide what she likes, for once.”

It was the same guy as before, the one who just seemed a little too close or a little too forward. It was the first time you had ever seen Bill actually look mean—his shoulders squared, he stood just a little taller, his jaw clenched and the glare in his eyes was terrifying. You didn’t remember who this guy was, you honestly couldn’t say how you had felt about him before—but in that moment, you hated him. You hated him just for the sheer reaction that he seemed to incite in Bill.

“Try them,” the guy coaxed, knocking your hand gently, “You’re a whole new girl now. Maybe there are things you’ll start to like, some things you’ll stop liking too.”

Bill’s jaw ticked. You watched his reaction carefully, how alert he seemed, how angry he seemed—and you trusted it. You didn’t know why, but you did.

“Okay, first of all,” you grabbed the guy’s arm, lifting it from your shoulders, “First of all, I trust Bill. I hate green onions. Second of all, stop touching me.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, “We used to do this all the time.”

You didn’t look to Bill for confirmation—you didn’t need to. If you had, you may have seen the way his fists clenched, the fire that flashed in his eyes. But it wasn’t even necessary.

“I doubt that,” you snapped, glaring at the guy. He huffed a little, gave a cocky smirk, before turning and getting lost in the small crowd.

“Thank you,” you said to Bill, and his shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. Still holding the chip in your hand, you grabbed his arm and dragged him to an empty room, closing the door behind you.

“Tiger is everything—“

“I still want to try this,” you held up the chip, “I just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

Bill smiled, a big one that relaxed his whole face, and shook his head wistfully.

“Go on then. But for the record, when you get your memory back, you cannot blame me for it,” he chuckled.

“I hate green onions?” You asked, for confirmation.

“Tiger, hate is too gentle of a word.”

“I trust you. But I’m still curious, so…” you trailed off, popping the chip in your mouth. Bill pursed his lips to stop the snicker, crossing his arms as you chewed thoughtfully.

“I mean, I don’t hate them right now,” you said after awhile, “I don’t love them, but I don’t hate them. I’m…indifferent.”

“Noted,” he smirked, “I feel like I should have caught that moment on video.”

And you couldn’t resist—that boyish smile on his lips, the protective streak you had seen in action. You quickly tugged on his shirt, dragging him down for a deep kiss. His hands came to rest on your hips, squeezing softly, but all too soon—you heard him inhale sharply, a soft moan to it, and he pulled away.

“We should get back,” he mumbled. You nodded, a little disappointed.

And maybe it was that you were finally getting to see Bill in a situation surrounded by other people—the way he still always looked out for you, the way you caught him glancing around the room every once in awhile looking for you. You saw how everybody genuinely seemed to like him, how much he stood out from the rest of your friends. Maybe it was the way that you recognized how safe you felt in his presence—especially around other people. You caught yourself actively looking for him too, seeking him out just for that reassuring smile of his or that small boost of confidence you got from it. Maybe it was the way that he checked in with you so often that night, making sure you were okay, that you felt alright and you weren’t getting too overwhelmed. It might have been the way that this was the first time you had seen him in nicer clothes; jeans that hugged his long legs so perfectly, a fitted long sleeved shirt that was rolled to his elbows. He was cleanly shaven, his sharp jaw line making his profile unmistakable. A loose curl flopped casually on his forehead and you found yourself trying to hold back from giving it a playful tug. He smelled fantastic, he looked even better, and the way he calmly fussed or looked out for you the entire evening had caused a knot to start forming in the pit of your stomach.

Maybe it was also the recollection of a real good dream a few nights before, one involving him that seemed more like a memory than a dream—the way he knew your body, the way he knew what you liked. Maybe it was the comfort and the warmth that you remembered from a few nights ago, when you had crawled into his bed—how safe you felt, how comforted you were. Maybe it was the soft press of his lips against yours both that night and this night in the car before you entered the party, how warm and timid and plush his lips were. Maybe it was the kiss that ended far too soon, earlier in the night.

Either way, whatever it was, by the end of the night—your body was screaming for it.

You had tugged on his sleeve when you had enough at the get-together—more people were arriving, the noise was getting louder, and your stress levels were starting to rise.

“Time to go?” He said immediately when you appeared at his side. You nodded—and within an instant he had your coats, calling out a general goodbye to the crowd, and then you were safe in the car and on your way home. 

But he was just so close—you could still smell the faint scent of his cologne, and you tried to listen as he murmured soft praises to you. That he was proud of you, that you had done so well, that this was a big step. You drank all of it in—his velvet voice with the soft lilt to it, the beauty of his profile, his big hand on the stick shift as he confidently switched gears. After awhile, it got to be too much—so you reached out, resting a hand gently on top of his.

“Thank you,” you said, “For tonight. And for uh, everything.”

And there it was again, the small dimple in his cheek, his boyish lopsided grin. By the time he had parked in front of your place, by the time he had put a hand on your back to lead you gently up the stairs—you couldn’t take it anymore. You were ready to explode.

“Bill, um…” you stammered. His brows furrowed in concern but when he tucked a knuckle under your chin, raising it to meet his eyes—you lost control. Fisting a hand in his shirt, you pulled him down and crushed your lips to his. He squeaked in surprise but you didn’t let up, stepping into his chest as you pulled him closer. You moved your lips firmly against his, his hands coming up to rest on your hips before looping around your back, crushing you to him as you moaned into it. Your feet lifted off the ground as he pressed you more into him and you returned his fervour, raking your hand through his hair.

“Tiger wait,” he broke away suddenly and you wobbled, “We can’t.”

“Yes we can,” you said breathlessly, launching at him again. He stumbled back as he caught you, your mouth slamming onto his in another heated kiss. You tugged at his jacket, pulling it from his shoulders before you grabbed the hem of his shirt and started to pull it up.

“Tiger,” he stopped, actually pushing you away from him to put distance between the both of you. He dragged his hands over his face, letting out a shaky breath that sounded more like a wheeze. “No.”

“Yes,” you insisted, stepping towards him but he took a step back, “Bill, I want to.”

He held up his hands when you reached for him again.

“Tiger, no. We’re not doing this. I’m not having sex with you. You don’t even remember how you feel about me.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you agreed, “I’m sure I was attracted to you before. But regardless, I can tell you one thing, I’m sure as fuck attracted to you now.”

“Tiger—”

“No. Listen to me, Bill,” you interrupted, holding your hand up authoritatively. “You are hot as hell. You really are. And you’re very kind. And frankly—I need to get my bell rung real good.  Real good. There’s a lot of…needy feelings happening in me right now that I need to get out. The fact that I don’t remember having sex with you does not at all take away from the fact that I want to have sex with you right now.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he mumbled lowly.

“How is this taking advantage of me?” You asked,  “People have one night stands all the time. I don’t need to know you to have sex with you. The fact that we do have a history is just an added bonus.”

“Tiger—“

“Bill, look. It really is this simple. I do not remember ever having sex with you. But you are very attractive, and I am very attracted to you, and I would like to have sex with you right now. I’m horny. I need to get laid. And it can either be you, or it can be that guy at the party who seemed pretty enthusiastic about touching me. I’m offering it up to you first. Who’s it gonna be?” You challenged.

Bill’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh it’s gonna be me kid,” he seethed, “It’s gonna only be me.”

It was all that you needed, before you launched yourself at him and yanked his shirt over his head.

“Promise me that you want this kid,” he urged between heated kisses.

“I want this,” you murmured against his lips.

“Promise me that you’re genuinely attracted to me,” he whispered, nipping at your top lip.

“Bill, I want to fuck your brains out. Me. Right now. With zero memories. This girl, right here, wants to be all over that.”

He groaned, grabbing your face in his hands as he pressed his mouth to yours. God, he could kiss. His lips soft but insistent, his tongue flicking across your bottom lip to gain entrance. You moaned into it as he squeezed at your hips, lifting you and carrying you to bed as he pressed his weight down into you.

“Tiger,” he pulled away breathlessly, “Are you sure this is—“

“Show me what I used to like,” you nipped at his chin, grabbed his hand and brought it under your shirt. His eyes stayed closed, his chest heaving with the air he was trying to get in. You nipped at his lips, pulled him down into another forceful kiss as you raised your hips to grind into his, He groaned into your mouth, his hand trailing up your rib cage.

“You used to like it when I did….this”  he broke from you, bringing his lips down and sucking gently at your neck as you drew in a sharp breath.

“And you have a real sweet spot right…here,” a flick of his tongue had you gasping, and he bit down on the sensitive area while you grinded against him. He sucked a deep mark into your neck and you moaned, but you needed his mouth on you again. You tilted your face and he captured your lips in a searing kiss.

“You’re also really sensitive when I do this,” his palm cupped your breast through your bra, and you moaned softly. He squeezed, kneading you through the material as his lips caught yours again. His hand was so big, so warm and gentle, and you squeezed your knees together as you started to feel a knot low in your belly.

“Off,” you pleaded against his lips, “Get it off.”

He raised back on his haunches and you saw the effect you were having on him—his eyes crazed, the bulge tenting the front of his jeans. It had been so long for him, so long since he had felt you, that he wasn’t sure he would make it all the way through. Pulling his shirt off, he reached for yours and got it over your head. You fumbled with your bra but he moved your hands away, popping it open and you quickly threw the material off as he worked to get your pants unbuttoned and off. You reached for him again, grabbing his hands as you pushed your breasts into his palms and pulled him back down on top of you.

“God tiger,” he moaned into your mouth, “I’ve missed you.”

His hands felt so good on your chest, kneading softly and rolling your nipples between his thumbs. You gasped when he pinched softly, moving his lips down to suck on the hollow of your collarbone. He waited until you relaxed before he pinched again, a little harder this time, rolling your nipples through his fingers.

“I really used to like…” he placed suckling kisses down your sternum, nuzzling the underside of your breast with his nose before brushing his lips over it, “Doing this.”

He dragged his tongue over your nipple before enclosing his mouth around it. You groaned and shot forward but he pushed you back, his other hand continuing to pinch and knead while he sucked on your pebbled bud. He nipped at it softly, flicking his tongue over it before blowing on it and moving to the next one. You grinded your hips against whatever you could reach, tangling your hands in his hair as his warm mouth surrounded your other nipple. You whimpered, reaching your own hand down between your legs to try and ease some of the tension but he quickly grabbed it with his, intertwining your fingers.

“All in good time sweet girl,” he purred, “I want you nice and wet for me.”

You whined, trying to get some friction and he rolled his hips against yours as he trailed his mouth down. He nipped gently at your lower belly, dipping his tongue into your navel.

“This is one of my favourites,” he murmured into your skin, “You’re always so soft here.”

 He kissed along your lower stomach, one warm hand running over your body while the other one stayed tangled with yours. He licked at the waistband of your panties, nuzzled your mound, and it snapped you to attention. Before you could stop him, he buried his nose in the seam of your panties and inhaled deeply—you jerked in surprise but the groan he let out was feral. Out of instinct you moved to shut your legs but one hand grabbed onto your thigh, keeping them open.

“Um,” you looked down at him shyly, squirmy just a little, “You don’t have to…uh…”

He smiled, genuine and lopsided, and nipped playfully at your inner thigh.

“You said the exact same thing the first time we ever slept together,” another suckling kiss to your thigh, the brush of his lips across your panties, “And I’ll tell you the exact same thing that I said then: this is my favourite thing to do for you. To you.”

Your cheeks flushed, you should feel his warm breath on you through the soaked material. Before you could say anything else, he licked a broad stripe up your slit and groaned, resting his nose on your mound.

“God, the way you taste. The way you smell. I need it, kid. Please, can I have it?” He pleaded, looking up at you for confirmation. You bit your lip—you were a little shy, but god he looked like a man on fire. You nodded slowly.

“Use your words tiger,” he prompted.

“Yes,” you mumbled, “Okay.”

He didn’t wait another second. Grabbing the waistband of your panties, he ripped them from you in one yank and then dove forward. It felt like he was everywhere, his tongue wet and warm and firm, licking over you in broad swipes. You gasped and he moaned into you, the vibrations humming through your whole body. You watched him devour you, his eyes closed in pleasure, one hand still gripping your thigh to make sure you stayed nice and open for him. He licked at your entrance, pushing his tongue inside while his nose pressed into you before dragging his tongue up slowly through your folds, sucking his way up.

“Oh god,” you groaned softly, “This is fantastic.”

You squeezed tighter at his hand, relaxing more into the blankets and pushing your legs wider apart. He groaned in response, pressing his face into you more as his lips closed around your clit. He suckled at it, flicking his tongue over it as you twitched. The knot in your stomach was clenching, the groans coming out guttural as you tensed.

“Bill,” you squeaked, “Don’t stop.”

Your leg cramped up and shot out, but his lips stayed gentle and firm around your bud. He suckled with the same pressure, nipping softly at it.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged, and you were rewarded with another deep groan that sent a hum of vibrations through you. Reaching up, he glided his hand over your body and gently pushed two fingers into your mouth. The noise you made was inhuman, shoving your hips up and keeping a death grip on his hand. He gave a few broad licks up your slit, glided his tongue firmly through your folds before moving his attention back to your bud. He flicked over it before sucking it into his mouth harshly, and it was your undoing. With a loud cry you grabbed onto his hair, every muscle in your body tense and your eyes clenched so tightly shut that tears leaked from the corners. You nearly yelled through it, letting it crash into you like a freight train as you gasped. You collapsed onto the bed after it washed over you, your chest heaving and slicked with sweat, your face lax with pleasure.

You felt a soft kiss on your chin, another one on your lips, a gentle hand brushing the hair from your face.

“You okay?” He asked lowly—and you laughed. You let out an incredulous, pleasure-drunk laugh.

“So good,” you groaned, “So, so good.”

You felt him smile into the kiss, and felt another weight on you as he pressed into your body.

“Good,” he said, but he sounded strained, “Tiger, I need you. I really need you. Think you can handle a bit more, sweet girl?”

You opened your eyes lazily.

“Sweet girl,” you murmured, “I like that.”

He smiled again, but his face looked pained. Tense. You nipped at his lip, pulling his hips into yours and he moaned.

“I want more,” you said, “God you’re good at this.”

You helped him drag his jeans and boxers down as he kissed you again forcefully. You reached down and grabbing hold of him to line him up, you stopped abruptly and your eyes widened.

“What is it?” He asked, worried.

“Holy shit, you’re huge,” you blurted out. He laughed boisterously, burying his face in your neck as his chest rumbled.

“And you take it like a champ,” he smiled at you, “We’ll go slow.”

He captured your lips in a deep kiss, one hand keeping a loose hold of your chin while the other hand balanced his weight. He faltered as he pushed into you, his hips stuttering and he broke the kiss with a whimper as he pinched his eyes shut.

“Oh god tiger,” he moaned, “My tiger.”

You shushed him softly, scratching lightly at his back as you tried to relax your muscles to accommodate him. You didn’t remember but your body seemed to, taking him with ease until he bottomed out and rested his chest on yours.

“Bullseye,” he moaned. You wrapped your legs around his waist, relishing in the feel of him inside you—so heavy and deep, pressing against your inner walls in a way that made you want to clench around him. You could feel the beginnings of another release, you could feel that knot deep in your belly again, feel yourself getting wetter with him so deep inside you.

“Move bud,” you begged, “You’ve gotta move.”

Gripping the bed sheets tightly in his fists, he kept his weight on you as he rolled his hips forward. His thrusts weren’t hurried, but god they were heavy and deep. He kept it slow, barely pulling back before he was pushing back into you, and you raked your nails down his back. His moans were gravelly and rough, his jaw slack as he tried to prolong his release just a little bit.

“My tiger,” he moaned again, and you pulled him into a heated kiss.

“Deeper Bill,” you begged, and he rolled his hips into yours with more force, slamming into you and you clenched around him. He moaned, the headboard knocking against the wall with every deep thrust.

“You feel so good kid,” he grunted, using his grip on the sheets for leverage as he plunged into you, “So good.”

Your muscles were squeezing him, the filthy sound of how wet you were and the deep drag of your insides were driving him crazy. He wasn’t going to last much longer, but neither were you. The stretch was intense but full of pleasure, the weight of him inside you and the way your body seemed to respond to him. You could barely breathe, couldn’t focus on anything other than the despair you felt when he pulled away and the the insane pleasure you felt when he filled you back up again.

“Give it to me tiger,” he panted, rolling his hips to rub onto your clit, “All over me, come on.”

You were there, your body clenching around him as you tried to drag in a deep breath.

“Now tiger,” he demanded, and you cried out as your nails dug into his back,  dragging them down as you spasmed. He cursed, yelling out as he slammed into you and tensed. His chest nearly crushed you, his hips driving in deep and staying there as his fists clenched in the sheets. He gave a feral cry as you felt him fill you up, his voice giving way to rough, raspy groans as he let it slam into him. His chest heaved as he shook, and he eventually collapsed against you with his face in your neck, whimpering softly as the aftershocks shuddered through him.

You let the silence hang, kept your arms around him as he twitched and tried to catch his breath, your fingers dancing soft patterns over his skin. He eventually started to do the same, his lips leaving soft kisses in your neck, across your cheek, before landing softly on your nose. His eyes were bright, his hair sticking to his forehead, his lips tilted up in the laziest of grins.

“You know,” you started, “I’d be pretty down to do that again. Like, regularly.”

He laughed, and you craned up to kiss him.

“Was it always this good?” You asked him honestly. He went to roll off you but you stayed his movements, pulling him down onto you again. He kissed the corner of your mouth, tracing his finger over some of your features as he rested his weight on you.

“Yes,” he smiled boyishly, “I mean, speaking selfishly of course. It was always that good for me. But you also seemed to always enjoy it the way that you just did.”

“And we….only do this with each other?”

“Mmhmm,” he nuzzled the side of your nose with his.

“I can see why,” you reached for another kiss, “If it’s always this good, of course I’d want to be selfish about it.”

His laugh was breathy and soft, and you scratched lightly at his scalp. He rested his cheek on your chest, smushing his face in as his eyes closed slowly.

“I should get off of you,” he slurred. You just hummed, continuing to run your fingers through his hair.

“Why? This is nice,” you murmured, “I have therapy tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” his speech was slack jawed and warbled, “Afternoon. Then dinner with my family.”

You nodded, kissing his head.

“Thank you for tonight, bud. I really enjoyed it,” you mumbled, “All of it.”

But the only thing you heard was his soft snore, his mouth hanging open as his breaths evened out.

It was the first time you had slept through the night, the first time that your dreams left you alone, and the first time that a blinding headache wasn’t the first thing you felt when you woke up. Instead there was just a warmth, a weighted comfort that just seemed to envelop you completely. You shifted, sighing a little as the warm weight on your stomach started to rub back and forth.

“Go slow,” a deep voice murmured. You couldn’t help it, you curled up into the warmth more—seeking it out and tucking into it, nuzzling your nose into soft skin, as a hand stroked at your back and a soft pair of lips dotted whispery kisses across your face.

“We slept in a bit sweet girl,” the gravelly voice said and you almost purred, “We have to go to your therapy session soon.”

“Five more minutes,” you grumbled, and the rumble in his chest vibrated against your cheek.

“I wish we could kid,” he tapped your bottom lightly, “But we’ll be late, come on.”

It was a struggle. A struggle to open your eyes and not pout about it. A struggle to drag your tired body out of the warm blankets, away from the other warm body, and to get dressed. When the cool air nipped at your face on your way into the clinic, you huddled further into your jacket and grumbled.

“Go on,” he said, “I’ll be waiting out here when you’re done.”

Without hesitation, you kissed him briefly and then greeted your doctor as she ushered you into the room.

“Things seem to be going well?” She started, and you shrugged your coat off.

“Yes and no,” you sighed, “Yes, because he really is just…amazing. But no, because I still can’t remember shit.”

“What have you tried so far, to trigger your memory?”

“I ask him about me, like you said,” you told her as she scribbled notes, “He tells me a lot about who I was, what I used to like. We tried eating all the meals I used to love, and he tells me about why I love them or when I first tried them. We tried photo albums, but nothing got triggered there. I met my group of friends last night—good people—they shared some stories too, but nothing kickstarted my brain.”

“I see,” she said calmly, “What else?”

“We tried watching movies I used to love,” you chewed your lip in thought as you tried to remember, “He took me to a few places around town I used to enjoy. We got into old habits and routine, doing what we used to do on weekends together and whatnot. But nothing is working.”

“Routine is good,” she said, “It can be any number of things, that will prove to be your trigger. Sometimes the portion of our brains responsible for our memories can be given a much-needed kickstart by routine. By repeatedly doing the exact things that we used to repeatedly do. Sometimes, patients suddenly wake up one day and they just…remember. Sometimes it’s triggered by trauma. Any number of things can be responsible, so don’t lose hope and keep trying.”

“Trauma?” You asked cautiously.

“Unfortunately,” she continued, “The memories we have are only held in one place in our brain. A reaction to a past trauma is an incredibly intense thing to go through, and sometimes it reactivates every single part of our brain, including sections that were malfunctioning. A past trauma, a memory of a past trauma, or something that reminds you of a past trauma—whether or not you remember the incident—can trigger your memory to come back.”

“That sounds awful,” you mumbled, “God I hope it just comes back by like, eating spaghetti or something. If it ever comes back.”

“Have hope,” she smiled reassuringly, “You’re doing all the right things.”

True to his word, when you emerged from the room an hour and a half later and significantly more tired, he was there waiting and wrapped you up in a comforting hug.

“That one was hard,” you mumbled into his chest, and he squeezed you tighter.

“Tiger, if you just want to relax tonight—”

“No,” you interrupted, “I have to keep trying. And I want to meet them, so let’s not overthink this. Let’s just go.”

He nodded, tucking you under his arm as he led you to the car. You reached for his hand as he drove, pulling it into your lap and enclosing it in both of yours. It earned you a side glance, that soft smile that you loved.

“Are you nervous?” He asked.

“No,” you said truthfully, “I was more nervous to meet our friends. I’m…excited to meet your family. Again.”

You chuckled softly at the last part, squeezing his hand tighter.

“There’s 8 of them, you said?” You ran your thumb over his knuckles—his hand was huge, but it was always so warm.

“Yes, we’re 7 brothers and one girl. They won’t all be there today, though.”

“And you said some of them were actors too?” You asked.

“Four of us,” he nodded, “And dad. They’re all here today. One brother is a doctor, you’ll meet him too. The other two are very young. My sister works as a restaurant manager, but she’s back in Stockholm.”

“And are they all uh, tall like you?”  You snickered.

“Oh god no,” Bill laughed and you sighed in relief, “….they’re taller.”

“How is that even possible? Family of giants.”

“Yeah something like that,” he pulled his hand loosely from yours, shifting the car into park and undoing his seatbelt.

“You ready kid?” He asked, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

“Yeah, let’s meet this circus.”

“Tiger, if at any point—“

“I know bud,” you interrupted, “I’ll give you a sign if I need to get out of there.”

He nodded, hesitating a moment before leaning forward in his seat. You met him halfway, gently pressing your lips to his and giving a tug to the curl on his forehead. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you laced your fingers with his as he led you up the long walkway. With one last look to you, and with your reassuring nod back, he opened up the door.

It was calmer than what you expected a household with that many inhabitants to be, but when Bill opened the door you were met with something akin to peace. It smelled delicious, wafts from the kitchen infiltrating the hallway and entrance area. In the living room you could hear someone plinking on a guitar, a soundtrack of soft jazz playing behind them. The house was bright but calm, natural sunlight filtering in, the entranceway painted a warm neutral tone and dotted with wooden accents. Bill rested his hands on your shoulders and you shrugged off your coat, handing it to him to hang up as he took your hand. To your relief, nobody had run up to greet you just yet—you had no doubts that he had warned them too, had told them beforehand that you needed to take it slow.

“They’re in the living room,” he answered your unasked question, “Come on.”

Taking your hand, he led you across a soft carpet and into a white open space—it was beautiful. Thick cable knit blankets adorned plush couches, minimalist accents, linear art on the walls—and three very, very big men strewn across sofas that looked miniature sized under their long bodies.

“Everyone,” Bill called softly, “Look who’s here.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to you, and you had to shake your head softly to make sure you were seeing clearly. They all looked like varying shades of the exact same person, each with distinct features but still all so identical. The blond one had Bill’s eyes, had his exact nose that you had come to love. The one with whispers of a beard on his chin had an immediate warmth about him, a kindness and peaceful presence that so resembled Bill’s. The older looking blond one had the same smirk, the same twinkle of mischief and mirth in his face that you would sometimes see on Bill.

“Oh my,” you said softly. Instinctively you reached a hand up, feeling for Bill behind you and he stepped into your space. You rested your hand on his chest, making sure he was still there. “You are all very large.”

You clapped your hand over your mouth in embarrassment at the comment that slipped out but you were met with soft chuckles as they all stood and made their way slowly to you.

“In order of age,” Bill said, “This is Alex, my oldest brother.”

Alex stepped forward, opening his arms widely and it seemed so natural and comfortable that you didn’t hesitate to step into them.

“Gentle,” Bill warned his brother, “She’s still all banged up.”

And the giant was gentle. He hugged you with caution, bending at the knees to be able to, and he kissed your cheek softly as he pulled away.

“Good to see you again,” he said.

“I don’t remember you,” you mumbled, “I’m sorry. But it’s nice to meet you, Bill version beta.”

Alex chuckled, gave Bill a knowing glance and stepped aside.

“This is Gustaf,” Bill introduced the next brother, and you liked this one. They all seemed nice, but this one had…something about him. You saw every bit of Bill’s gentle spirit, his softness, his caring in this one. Just like his brother before, Gustaf leaned down and wrapped his arms gently around you.

“Glad to have you back,” he murmured when he pulled away, “We have much to catch up on.”

"I don’t remember you either, Bill version beta 2.0,” you mumbled embarassed, but he squeezed your shoulders.

“Then how lucky am I, to be able to re-introduce myself to you,” he said kindly. Oh, you liked this one indeed. You also liked the warm, caring smile he shot Bill—the way he reached out and hugged his little brother too, ruffled his hair. The smile on Bill’s face told you everything you needed to know about their relationship.

“And this one,” Bill said as the blonde one came in front of you, “Is Valter.”

“Walter?” You asked innocently.

“With a V, genius,” the blond one snapped. You were a little taken aback, but he had spunk—you appreciated that. Bill muttered something in Swedish behind you—something that sounded angry—but Valter just cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t remember you,” you smirked, “And I think I’m pretty glad about that.”

It earned you some good natured chuckles from the band of brothers, and Valter still bent at the knees and hugged you.

“Whatever you say Dory,” he shot back, “You won’t remember me in another 30 seconds anyway.”

Another angry remark in Swedish from Bill, but you genuinely laughed. You appreciated Bill’s devoted care, but it was also nice to be treated a little more…normally. To be treated as if you weren’t made of glass.

“I thought you said there were four bud?” You asked as you pulled away, “Where’s the other one?”

“Probably cooking,” he took a few strides away, peering down the hallway. “Sam! Tiger’s here.”

You heard the footsteps, but your back was turned as you made some small talk with the brothers.

“Tiger,” Bill said, “This is my brother, Sam.”

You turned, and the moment you saw his face, a bright, white-hot flash of pain shot through your head. That face—that man—you knew that man. Your mind raced, your heart sped up, and suddenly—flash after flash of bright lights, searing pain. Memories, conversations, laughter—all of it poured into your head at the speed of light. You were dizzy, you could hear the voices of conversations past, your brain filling with memories and spiralling a thousand miles a minute. You gasped for breath, stumbling back.

“Tiger?” Bill said in alarm, “What’s wrong?”

Your feet kept peddling backwards as thoughts, more thoughts, more memories clouded every single function in your brain. You groaned as the searing, blinding pain clouded your vision.

“Bill,” you choked, “Bill get him away.”

“Tiger it’s just my brother—“

“He’s going to stab me with a needle again!” You cried suddenly, “Just like he did a few years ago!”

The entire room stilled, all of the eyes on you, as the silence became deafening.

“What did you just say?” Bill whispered.

Your head felt like it was going to explode.

“No,” you sobbed, “No no no no no no….”

“Tiger hey. Hey,” Bill stepped into your line of vision, grabbing your face in his hands, “It’s just me and you kid, just me and you.”

“Bill,” you continued to sob, clutching at his shirt as your mind spun. Everything—all of it—it was all coming back, and it was all coming back at the same time. Your knees buckled.

“Tiger, what did you just say?” He asked again.

“Him,” you sniffled, “He had a big needle a few years ago when we were visiting your family’s country place and I wasn’t feeling well. And he tried to stab me with it and I passed out and then he stabbed me anyway and I needed surgery.”

��Tiger—” Bill said urgently, his eyes wide, “How do you know that?”

“Because I remember Bill,” you shoved at him, “I hate needles.”

Bill hadn’t blinked. He still had your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks, as his eyes got impossibly wider.

“Tiger, when’s my birthday?”

“Does he have a needle?” You asked feebly. Bill glanced back—Sam was just carefully watching you both, and he raised his hands slowly.

“No needle,” he promised, “I won’t hurt you.”

“My birthday tiger,” Bill focused back on you, “When is it?”

“August 9th,” you said immediately. Bill let out a small incredulous noise.

“What was the name of the stray cat you took care of for a year?” He asked.

“Tofu,” you said without missing a beat.

“What happened to the coffee maker I bought you?” 

“It broke,” you mumbled.

“What happened to the coffee maker tiger,” he deadpanned.

“I stabbed it,” you mumbled embarassed, “I thought it was haunted.”

“Which cousin do you hate?”

“Leila,” you sneered, “God, she’s a cunt.”

“And what did we do for your birthday last year?”

“We had sex in the Magic Kingdom at Disney World,” you mumbled, but the way Bill’s face contorted from shock to sheer embarrassment and the hand that he clapped over your mouth gave you a clue that perhaps you had said something wrong.

“They don’t know we do that,” he whispered urgently to you. You bit your lip sheepishly.

“They do now,” Valter chimed in, and you barely registered a rapid exchange of money amongst the brothers, some disgruntled grumbles. A quick glare from Bill, and then the piercing green orbs were back on you.

“Tiger, you remember,” he murmured. Tears flooded down your cheeks, as you nodded. He couldn’t help it—pulling you forward, he crushed his lips to yours as you held onto him.

“It came back,” you said as you pulled away, “I don’t know how. But I just kept getting flashes, my heart is still racing. Everything just flooded back.”

“For what it’s worth, if anyone cares about my medical opinion,” Sam chimed in from the background, “Amnesia from blunt force trauma is often reversed when the patient is re-exposed to a prior trauma.”

“The memories,” you mumbled in surprise, “Bill, my therapist said that. Even if I don’t remember a past trauma, my brain still has a knee-jerk reaction to it and that can provoke a kick start for my brain to access all of my memories. Just by being re-exposed to a traumatic one.”

“Exactly,” Sam said, but your eyes narrowed and you glared at him.

“So you stabbed me with a needle and you traumatized me?” You said accusingly. Bill chuckled, squeezing your shoulder softly in warning.

“No,” he said with a furrowed brow, “I traumatized you by stabbing you with a needle. It’s quite simple, really. And you saw me, and your brain remembered that trauma, and now you remember everything.”

“You son of a—“

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Bill held you back by pulling you back into him, “Tiger, you remember.”

“I remember,” you said softly, and when you raised on your tip toes he met you halfway, kissing you softly.

“So are we all just not going to acknowledge that this” Valter gestured to the two of you, “Is officially a thing, even when we all knew it was a thing?”

“I don’t know about that Valtermelon. It may not be a thing for long,” you muttered, and Bill looked to you curiously. You smacked his chest, taking a big step away from him as you glared.

“You fucking let me eat green onions?” You snapped at him, “Green onions?! Bill, you’re fucking fired.”

[sunshineseung]

Sinner Part 2 // Felix

💌 Info: Stray Kids Felix x female!reader smut 💕 Includes: dom!reader x sub!felix, themes of religion, teasing, exhibitionism/fear of being caught, first time, loss of innocence, establishment of safeword, degradation and praise, oral/fingering (receiving), unprotected sex, riding, cum play, slight aftercare ✏️ Word Count: ~4.2k

Please read part one of this series first :) Thank you!

The rain was pouring in the pitch black outside, but the lights inside the church hall were bright as day. The only occupant of the church on this night was Lee Felix deep in prayer, oblivious to the storm outside. With hands folded and head bowed, he whispered his prayer through his lips, a slight echo of his words spreading through the otherwise empty room. 

Felix jolts up at the sound of the main entrance being opened and slammed shut quickly after. A feminine sigh can be heard, and Felix lets out a shy “hello” to the intruder of his private repentance time. 

“Oh, you’re here?” You say while entering the main hall, throwing your wet jacket over one of the pews. “I thought this place would have been empty.”

“What are you doing here?” Felix retorts immediately, slightly offended that of all people to walk in at this moment, it had to be you. 

“I should be asking you the same thing, little boy.” You shuffle the hair on his head, earning an annoyed grunt from him. “The bitch ass pastor’s making me clean the archives in the basement since I... caused some trouble earlier this week.”

“Caused some trouble? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Felix was beyond offended at this point. If it wasn’t your name-calling of the pastor, it was your dismissal of your actions. “You and your group of friends painted sinful phrases on the side of the church!”

“It was all in good fun, damn. Chill out.” While, yes, spray painting God Loves Lesbians on the wall of the church was questionable, it was fun! And best of all, the pastor said he wouldn’t call authorities if you cleaned the basement. “It was worth it anyway. Did you see the look on his face? Priceless!” 

The boy was boiling with rage, but he held his anger back in fear of cursing or saying the Lord’s name in vain. Despite hating you, part of him wanted to save you. While not being the healthiest mindset, Felix felt like he could save anyone from sin, and he was going to try to save what he called the rodent of the congregation. 

“Now, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?” Your tone of voice edged on sarcasm, you having full knowledge of his nightly prayer. He had calmed down, remembering that he was in a place of the Lord. His face returned from red back to it’s normal hue, and he looked to you with gentle eyes.

“I was praying. I did some questionable things this week too.” His admission to sin took you aback. You didn’t expect everyone’s favorite boy to openly confide in you that he committed an act against his God, something you never thought he would do.

“What kind of questionable things?” Your interest was piqued, and his sudden bluntness was just what you wanted to see. What resides in the mind of Felix?

“I shouldn’t be telling you this.” He looks into his lap, a sudden wave of shyness clouding him. You sit next to him on the pew, patting his back to comfort him. Despite him being so critical of your actions, you did have a soft spot for the sweet boy. “I... pleasured myself.”

You almost burst out into laughter, but you had to suppress that for now, because the most holy person you knew just said he masturbated, and he felt bad about it. As someone who was not shy to doing that specific act among other ungodly things, to see someone repent for doing something totally natural in your eyes was otherworldly. 

“It’s okay, Felix. Sex is natural.” You attempted to comfort him, but you could tell by the deepness in his eyes that he still regretted what he did. Also, when you so casually said the word sex, he winced a bit since he hated the word so much. “You have nothing to be ashamed for. Everyone masturbates.” 

“You don’t understand!” The raise in his voice boomed through the desolate church hall, and you darted your look towards him in shock. “It wasn’t just that.” His voice got soft again, almost a whisper. You lean in to hear him. “I watched the most sinful videos. I thought about myself doing those horrid things. I feel filthy.”

“Lix, I understand completely. Do you think I haven’t done those exact name things?” You raise your eyebrow at him, and he timidly shakes his head. “You’re a young adult. This is normal. Don’t let it eat you up, okay?” 

“Okay.” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and it just hit you that you were basically giving him the birds and the bees talk. A comforting smile graces your face as you get up from your seat next to Felix. 

“I should go start cleaning the basement. Mind helping me?” You hold your hand out to him, offering some more time to spend with you. He reluctantly takes your hand, and you help him stand from the pew. You two silently make your way into the damp basement of your church. 

Dust, cobwebs, and the sent of mold cover the dreary basement as you and Felix step down. The conversation in the basement is much more lighthearted, but you can’t shake the image of Felix masturbating out of your head. You’ve never thought of the star child like that before, but his confession made you see him in a new light. He wasn’t above you. He was a teenager driven by sex and hormones like everyone else. 

Once the basement was tidy, books arranged on shelves and dust swept away, you exchanged phone numbers with the boy and headed on your merry way, but that was far from the last time you would hear from Felix.

Over the next two weeks, Felix would text you casually. It started as a nice, wholesome friendship: discussing classes, complaining about personal things, and sharing homework. No matter what the conversation topic was, your mind would wander to the more dark and depraved side of your persona. You wanted to pick his brain on a multitude of topics, but most of all: sex. Since confessing his scandal to you, you wanted to know if he did it again, what he’s into, or even if he’s thought about you.

One night, in a heightened state of mind, you text him a simple question: Have you jerked off since that night? Sure, you regretted it when you sobered up, but you got the answer you wanted... sort of.

I’ve wanted to, but I also want to get into heaven unlike some people. Wow, pointed. However, I have watched more... pornographic films??? Sometimes the girl puts the mans... in her mouth, and it’s scary. Why would someone want to do that?

After explaining to the poor boy what a blowjob is and why it’s amazing, he takes two days to respond to your text, something he’s never done before. It was radio silence, and you didn’t bother to try to garner a response, because you knew Felix was busy

After waiting what seemed like an eternity for a response, you got what you were praying for, and you were worried this would happen.

I’m sorry if this comes off as aggressive, but will you show me a blowjob? Like, perform a blowjob on me? I take back what I said about getting into heaven. I can always beg for forgiveness, but right now, I’m really frustrated. 

You’ve created a monster. 

When Felix escapes the attic after you give him what you believe to be his first sexual encounter with another person, you quietly reenter the congregation as if you didn’t just cause the prettiest church boy to bust a load on himself minutes before. 

“Darling, there you are!” Your mother holds her arms out to you after what you presumed to be a particularly moving speech from the pastor. “We’re having dinner with the Lee family tonight, and I’d expect you to be on your best behavior. Would you like to join us?” 

“I’d be happy to go, mom.” Fuck fuck fuck. This was supposed to be a one time thing, and as much as the idea of teasing Felix in front of his family excited you, you’d hate to get caught by your own family, although the devil in you was very willing to take that risk for the slightest bit of sexual satisfaction. 

“Great! We’ll head over at 5 o’clock. Please dress up, dear. Your current shirt looks wrinkled. What were y-” 

“I’ll dress up, don’t worry!” You cut her off, and her face scrunches, but you’d rather not have to deal with the wrath of your mother. Your father returns to your mother after having a short conversation with Felix’s father.

“Mr. Lee said Felix could be a good influence on you, Y/n.” The temptation to roll your eyes was strong considering the preceding events. “Pay attention to how he talks to his parents. You could learn something, sweetheart.”

As much as you wanted to cause a scene in the church from your father’s condescending tone, you were more focused on getting home and changing your soaked, ruined panties. Your family says their casual goodbyes to the other churchgoers, and you make your way back to the family car, hoping your father speeds home. 

“Honey, it’s time to go!” Your mother puts in her second earring as she yells up to your room from the bottom of the stairs. Your door wings open to reveal you in a short red skirt, low-cut white shirt, white dress shoes, and bright red lipstick. “You’re wearing that?”

“It’s fine, ma! Nothing they haven’t seen before!” You whisk past your mother and slide into the backseat of the family car, ready to have dinner with the boy of your nightmares. 

When you enter the Lee family household, you can tell Felix’s parents are judging you, but you didn’t dress like that for them. When Felix turns the corner and faces you, his eye practically bulge out of his head. His gaze is glued to your thighs, hips, bust, and lips, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Judging by the sudden tightening in his pants, he clearly enjoys the view.

“Hello! Welcome to our house,” Felix’s mother escorts you inside to the living room. “Make yourself at home until dinner is ready.” She disappears into the kitchen while Felix’s father sits down on the couch and invites you and your family to sit with him. Felix shyly sits next to his father, although there was hardly any room for him to sit there. 

Your father and Felix’s father start talking about sports, while your mother goes on her phone. You make eye contact with Felix from across the couch, and his whole body tenses and he breaks into a nervous sweat. Aw, she’s so pretty, what do I do, what do I do, frick, frick, fuck.

Without saying a word, Felix gets up and runs out of the living room. Everyone darts their attention towards him, but no one tries to stop him. 

“Dinner’s re- where did Felix go?” His mother enters the living room, but her announcement is halted by the absence of her son. Everyone looks at each other, no one having answers for Felix's tantrum. "Would someone go get him please?"

"I got him." Your devious smirk should set the crowd off, but you make your way up the stairs to where you see Felix's bedroom door. His door had his name on it, so it was pretty clear what room was his.

"Go away." The second he hears your knock, he throws a pillow at his door, as if that would stop you from barging in. You see him sat on his bed, arms crossed, another pillow over his crotch, and his lip in a pout. "Why did you come here wearing that?"

He was definitely on the defense, and you've never seen Felix this angry since the night in the church. "I just thought this outfit was cute." Playing innocent might not have been the best idea at this moment, but you just had to calm him down and get him out to dinner.

"Yeah, it's a nice outfit, but I can see your butt whenever you turn around, and your cleavage is out, and I'm just very confused." He was frustrated at himself more than you. You sit next to him and put your hand on his shoulder, a familiar scene.

"Come down for dinner, and afterwards, I'll show you what I have under this outfit, okay babe?" Felix was so painfully tensed, every nerve of his was on edge. Your words were filthy, but he loved it so much.

He can't stop thinking about you. He wants to do everything to your body: eat you out, fuck your tits, spank your ass. He wants to do every sinful thing he's seen in those videos. Just imagining seeing you in your underwear makes him want to bust in his pants. You're driving him insane, and if Felix from a few weeks ago had seen what he has become, he would be disgusted.

You two make your way downstairs, Felix staring at your ass the entire time, and take your seats at the table. The dinner table was a circle, so you were seated right between Felix and your mother. Not the sexiest setting, but that wouldn't stop you.

The food was delicious, but halfway through, you placed your hand on Felix's thigh, and although you had him pecking the back of your throat earlier that day, he was still extremely sensitive to every touch. When your hand slid up his leg, he let out the quietest moan, and although the table was full of chatter between your parents, you were able to hear the precious sounds leaving Lee Felix as you swiped your hand across his twitching bulge.

Felix grabs your wrist and throws your arm back to you. He gives you a death stare, but his eyes are dark, and he looks so fucking needy. You meet his gaze and adjust your top, pulling it even lower than it already was. His eyes are glued to your tits, but you point down to your crotch, where you're fingering your self under the table. Felix bites his lip, but goes back to eating his food.

You take your wet finger and wipe it against his pant leg. Jesus fucking Christ, you were breaking this boy. His bulge was painfully large, and again, he felt like he could bust in his pants.

"I'm wet for you, baby boy. When dinner's over, do you want to taste me?" You whisper in his ear, and he closes his eyes tightly, trying not to fully fall for your tricks. His pathetic nod is all you need to go back to finishing your dinner, and he does the same, but his mind is fogged with the image of your naked body bouncing on his cock. So pathetic. So, so pathetic.

Dinner ends, Felix's mom takes the plates, and you and Felix disappear back into his room while the adults have their alone time to drink and chat. When he locks the door, you pin him to the wall and lick your lips. You stare him up and down, watching him as he panics. Everything he wanted to do to you escapes him, and he's putty in your hands.

Speechless, Felix rests his hands flush against the wall and tilts his head backwards, giving you full access to his neck. You take the opportunity to make dark hickeys along his neck, which will definitely be visible to his parents later. Your tongue against his skin makes him shudder, and mindless whimpers escape his lips.

"If you ever want to stop, the safe word is red, or snap twice. I'll only go as far as you want to, Lix." He nods, repeats what you said, and you go back to work on his neck.

"C-can I taste you?" His words are feint, but you're more than happy to take his request. You slip your skirt down to the floor and take off your tight shirt, giving Felix a full show of your lingerie you wore just for him.

"You've become such a whore for me, Lix." You traced his body with your hands, sliding your fingertips over his abs and chest. "Do you even know what to do with my pussy, huh? You're so innocent, I doubt you'd be able to make me cum."

His heart was racing, and he wanted nothing more than to prove you wrong. While, yes, he had no idea what he was doing, he wanted to taste your sweet release coat his tongue.

"Teach me." He was being bold. You'd never thought you'd see Felix this confident in this setting, especially since he was admitting to being inexperienced. You took his hands in yours and lead him to the bed. He watched you as you sat on the edge of the bed and spread your legs, giving him full access to your dripping cunt.

"Get on your knees, baby boy." He did as instructed, but this was the first time he was on his knees next to his bed to do anything other than pray. His hands ghosted over your thighs, scared to touch you without your permission.

"May I take off your panties?" You nod and lift your hips, allowing him to slide them down your legs. A string of wetness connected you with your panties, and Felix's mouth was watering. Your panties were discarded across the room, and you unhooked your bra and tossed it with the rest of your clothes. "Woah, you're so gorgeous."

You pet his blushing, freckled cheek, and coax him closer to your heat. His lips are hardly centimeters away from you, and you gently tangle your hand in his hair. "Lick my pussy, naughty boy. I know you want to."

Felix bites his lip before diving into your pussy, his tongue exploring every fold. Even though he doesn't know where the clitoris is, he knows that when he licks the top of your pussy, your thighs shake around him, so he circles his tongue through your cunt, and you give him the sweetest praise.

"Such a good boy for me, yeah?" You smile down at him, and the eye contact is intoxicating. You tighten around nothing when his tongue perfectly flicks over your clit. "Finger me, please, baby.”

He inserts his index finger into your core, and it feels like heaven to both of you. Felix imagines it's his cock inside you, and the thought of you tightening around him urges him to take his tight pants off without removing his mouth from your pussy.

"Bend your finger, my slutty little boy. Make your mistress cum on your pretty face." Your high was approaching, and you wanted Felix to work for it. He fucked his finger into you, adding his middle finger in the process. The more he looked at your heat, the more nervous he got, but from the wetness covering his fingers and lips, you didn't notice how nervous he was.

His fingers perfectly pushed into your g-spot, and your orgasm got miles closer. Your moans got louder, and no matter how close your parents were to hearing, you didn't quiet down. Felix loved your moans, and his cock twitches in his underwear.

"You're so hot, Y/n, please cum for me." His voice was hoarse and desperate, but you weren't that easy.

"Suck my clit. Make me cum all over your face, cutie." He aimlessly sucked at your folds, but when he found your clit, he never left that spot. Your violent moans of pleasure made him groan onto your clit, sending you over the edge. Your essence covered his fingers, and he lapped up every bit of your release. "Good boy."

You were out of breath, but Felix just started. He stood up and sat in your lap. You placed your hands on his hips, squeezing him and making him jolt. His erection was painfully pressed against his tight boxers, and you hooked your finger around the waistband and pulled them down his thighs. Although it had only been a few hours, his length never failed to impress you.

"Please fuck me, Y/n. I want to feel you on me." He was so desperate for any sort of touch. You lazily wrapped your hand around his cock and started stroking, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Ride me."

"Very demanding for a little slut, don't you think?" You throw him off your lap, his back harshly slamming onto the bed. Your legs surround his hips as you line your entrance with his cock, and he squeezes his eyes shut. His hands held onto your thighs as if it were life or death, and for him, it was.

Right before you lowered yourself onto him, he felt every negative thought enter his mind. What if I'm not good enough? What if I cum too soon? What if she hates me? What would my parents say if they caught us? God, please forgive me.

You see him grit his teeth, and you stop. You gently pet his cheek again, bringing him back to earth, and more importantly, bringing his attention back on your dripping core hanging over his cock.

Without warning, Felix grabs your hips and pushes you down onto him. He loses all control, and you love it. You stay still once he bottoms out, his face contorting into questionable expressions from the pleasure overwhelming him. He calms down, and you start to ride him, his cock sliding against your walls and filling you up perfectly.

You throw your head back and quicken your pace, chasing your second orgasm. Felix feels himself on the edge, but he holds back, fearful of what will happen if he cums inside you.

"Fuck, Felix, you feel so good." Your moans are so load, and the creaking of the bed is deafening. Felix's deep grunts and growls sound amazing, and his grip on your hips is tight enough to bruise. "So good, baby boy, so good."

His finger lingers to the familiar spot that is your clitoris, although Felix doesn't know that fully. He circles his finger around your sensitive bud, and his other hand grips your tit. His hands feel so good, and with one more press into your g-spot, you coat his cock in your cum. He thrusts into you when you tighten around him, and his orgasm is threatening to release, but he refuses to be the father of a child with someone who he is not married to.

You ride out your high on his cock, and when you return back to earth, you remove yourself and harshly wrap your hand around his cock. Your pumps are violent, and his body is aching for an orgasm. You bend over and lick the tip, his cum coating your tongue and face. He opens his eyes, cum squirted onto your face, and he's sure you'll be mad at him, but you lick your lips, collect his cum from your face, and swallow every last drop.

Without a word, you topple over next to him, and you rest your head on his chest. He hesitantly wraps his arm around you, and you muzzle into him.

"You're so good for me, Felix." You whisper into him, but he hear every word. He smiles, unable to speak after the intense orgasm he just experienced. "We need to go back downstairs, you know?"

After a few moments of silence, Felix speaks up. "Y/n, this is... wrong." He sits up, your head falling onto the bed and his arms holding him up. "We shouldn't have done this."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, b-"

"Then nothing is wrong." You pat his back, admiring the defined muscles. You sit up with him and look at the clothes scattered across the room. "Sex isn't bad, Lix."

"This just goes against what I've been taught my entire life." He pauses, deep in thought. "Sex is good." He repeats under his breath.

You stand up and stretch, your ass catching Felix's eye. He sighs and accepts his actions, clearing his floor of the discarded clothing and getting dressed again.

"Felix, can I borrow a hoodie?" You hold up a hoodie from the local Christian radio station, and Felix shrugs. "Thanks, babe."

"Y/n, do you like me?" You stop in your tracks after Felix's question, and you honestly don't know how to answer. Did you like Lee Felix?

"I'm not sure, but maybe we could go on a date sometime." Your tone was casual, but your mind was racing. Before this, you thought you didn't have feelings for the cute little church boy, but now that you've been confronted with it, you didn't know how to feel.

"... Sure."

[mikaze-discord]

OG Heavens: Love letters

For these Heavens posts, I had reached out to a few people who just never ended up responding. With projects like these, please at least hear them out, you don't have to do it because I know its a huge project but at least tell them you won't be doing it instead of ghosting them. But apart from that little road block, this project was really fun!!

Please enjoy under the cut!!!!

EIICHI OTORI

From @milkmateartist:

I have always leaned towards megane characters and Eiichi is no exception. However, it's not often you see idols wearing glasses, and that is something I appreciate about Eiichi's design. His color palette also intrigues me since I love deep shades of blue. His royal blue jacket is very attractive, and the way he pops the collar also makes me go "kya!".  His voice is also very sexy as well and is pleasing to the ear uwu. I love how egoistic he is too. Being incredibly ambitious he has been able to reach amazing heights that surpass other idols. The one thing that seems to make him unique though is that he really gets zealous and overly passionate when it comes to the power of music, so much that it makes him physically tremble. You could get high off that shit literally. His entire being is centered around being an idol, and all the components of him go above and beyond the requirements. It's not just a job for him or something that simply makes an earning or brings satisfaction. It's pretty much everything to him. For that reason he has made it to the top. There is also the component where he's lonely and isolated emotionally that interests me. Despite being a beloved idol, he clearly didn't get the love he needed growing up. Even though he had Eiji I feel as though his nature was more to protect Eiji and shield him from whatever terrors would arise. I admire his ability to come through all of that and pay attention to the things he really cared about. Eiichi can be himself, his strange, sexy self, but also he acknowledges the lonesome darkness within too. I think that component makes him incredibly powerful.

Extra Details:

While appearing to be a bad guy in the anime (at least), Eiichi seemed to be that typical bad boy idol that would steal away Haruka from the main group. The time when he approached Haruka and took her by the chin is a perfect example. How dare this new guy just think he can have his way with our protagonist!  To be honest I liked that aspect about him a bit. While I can't remember my first impression of Eiichi aside from not knowing how to feel about that, he slowly grew on me. He had the appearance of just another selfish idol, demonstrated by swiping the mic away from the announcer at one of his concerts and immediately declaring their foreseen victory. So far that looked rather bland to me, and I was still cheering for STARISH. They really made him out to look like some bad guy who would not play fair and do whatever he could to take the throne (and the girl).  It's not surprising his glasses shine adds to his 'freaky antagonist' vibe that the show seemed to try to give off, but however for me I love the glasses beam, thus having the opposite effect.

And then there is the Next Door episode. Now here's where we got to see more of Eiichi aside from when the HEAVENS Dragon demolished the entire stadium. Aside from kya-ing over the EiichiOtoya content (especially where he goes behind otoya and covers his eyes), I got to see more of him here. It surprised me that someone so cocky and confident was actually the same depressed, lonely person that Otoya was. But it was also evident to me as well that he did care about the effect it had on Otoya as well after he sort-of-well mind broke him. I like how he is ambitious but also still caring, as compared to an antagonist that would stop at nothing to achieve their goal regardless of how much pain they cause.

I also enjoy Eiichi because I feel like I can roleplay him well. Usually for me, roleplay has to achieve some kind of goal since I tend to be business oriented. I think to some degree I'm able to practice being a eboy idol through Eiichi, as I do enjoy charming the fans. It also helps that I can naturally play characters with an inflated ego who enjoy charming people.

From @/egoisticCEO on twt:

July 2019. When Eiichi was first introduced to me via his voice, I hated him from the very beginning. His singing, his appearance, his personality – everything about him made me despise him. It’s funny looking back and seeing how quickly my attitude changed towards him, realising I’d been biased against him because of a friend. Finding more about him, hate turned to interest. It seemed like his life hadn’t been the best. Maybe that was why he acted in such a way? Interest turned to liking him more. Maybe I’d misunderstood him. I’d made the mistake of taking him at surface level.

December 2019. Like was slowly turning to love. More and more, I found myself looking at him instead of my current favourites. I found myself wanting him to actually be a part of Egoistic. Once I started devouring HEAVENS Radio and unveiling his true character, it was shocking how quickly I fell. He truly acted like a father to everyone in his band. Giving them what he never received. Everything was for them to thrive.

2020. With how much I was at home, it only made sense I grew more obsessed. I found Life with Thanks’ translation. “We’re irreplaceable to him,” he tells us, and that made me certain that his heart wasn’t as evil as some people liked to believe. He’s a caretaker, someone who wants everyone to feel like they matter. Even at his own expense. Instead of selfish, he’s selfless.

I related to him more than I have to any character – it was comforting. Seeing someone have no choice but to put on a brave face, even when his confidence was at an all time low. 2020 got a lot harder for me, but when I recovered, Eiichi was like a home to go back to. Time and time again, I’d have to break away, but I’d always be invited back in by that stupid smirk and overexaggerated ego and the warmest heart you could ever find. Every scene I watched with him would make me smile. I’d tease him to myself. I still do.

2021. That brings us to now. I can’t see my love for this one of a kind man dying any time soon. I don’t want it to, either. Just looking at him makes me happy! He’s the type of character with so many facets to his personality that you can keep digging and never reach the end. So, in conclusion, I hope I never stop finding new things out about this wonderful idiot. More than anything, he deserves all the love he gives to others, and I’d love to provide it tenfold.

KIRA SUMERAGI

From Anon: 

Many have their reasons to love their favorite characters. As for me, why Kira Sumeragi is my favorite character is because there are several things about him that I can relate myself to and there are a few qualities he has that I like about him. If many do not know about Kira that much, they’d look at who he is. He may look intimidating at first and may not talk much, when in actuality, Kira is a considerate, dependable, and mindful guy. Mainly, he is the type of guy that lets his actions do the explaining. He is a hard worker, as an idol, he looks after his bandmates, HEAVENS, like family. It’s like what Eiichi said in HEAVENS Radio about Kira, “he is HEAVENS’ pride!” Although he may not say much, Kira is very observant of his surroundings and never hesitates in his decisions. The members of HEAVENS understand and acknowledge Kira, knowing that he means well.

You can even tell in his solo music! Although there are only two solo songs for Kira, if you read the lyrics carefully, Kira’s thoughts and feelings are shown. Kira always knew that if he cannot explain his feelings through words, then he’ll let his songs and his actions do it for him for you to see.  Although the anime doesn’t show much of Kira, the only way to get to know him more is through HEAVENS Radio, also drama CDs like Paradise Lost, and other media like LINE Messenger Japan. There’s still much that I’d want to know about him, but as a start, these things are what makes Kira my favorite character for HEAVENS.

From Anon: 

Aside from my huge bias towards OnoD the first thing that drew my attention to Kira was his design. Dark haired anime boys with bright eyes have such a vibe and I loved how mysterious he was set up to be in season 2. But the thing that really hooked me a lot was the found family that Heavens became over the progression of the anime.

Particularly since people in the fandom have a bunch of funky headcanons about Kira being the mom friend in the group, which is incredibly wholesome. Kira’s very quiet and reserved but clearly holds a deep caring for his group members and does what he can when needed which is one of the reasons why he became so loveable for me.

NAGI MIKADO

From @/_PXRFECTIONIST on twt: 

If I managed to stan Nagi, so will you.

Greetings. I present to you, once more, a story of how I came to love a character that I wished I threw hands with.

So.

Nagi Mikado.

The possible only utapri character that Shinomiya oshis despise. Thanks to what happened in the anime.

Truth be told, I too was one of them. Until I came to love Both Shinomiya and Nagi. Reason?

Research.

Ya see, it is universally agreed upon that the way Nagi was pushing and pulling at Shinomiya's trauma and DID was… Not okay. So I said "yeah okay what an obnoxious kid i dont think ill ever like him lol" especially since I never come to really warm up to people younger than me.

Boy was I wrong.

My heart really sways easily when I go deep into characters, and why they act the way they are. And also because I chose to roleplay as him, but let's not. Speak of that.

(its actually the main reason i like him in the first place who am i fooling)

Nagi is… Indeed obnoxious, and really has bad manners that are covered up by his cute looks and fame, especially since he's one of the original HEAVENS members, but once you get to really know him.. It makes sense why he's being such a brat. And that is sort of endearing. And knowing how his group is like family to him too, it becomes harder and harder to completely dislike him.

….

He really is a boss man.

He knows what he wants, and how to get it. He knows how to get people to like him without handing over the tiniest sliver of his weaknesses. He acts in his own way that shapes his personality to suit him, yet still manages to be caring and helpful, even if it's hard to see tenderness and good will through his aggression.

Reading his solo lyrics, listening to the drama CDs, even thinking of headcanons due to lack of lore, it all slowly comes together like a lovely parfait to suddenly make you realize..

'Wow…'

'I really do like that rat.

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 103

Ellie glared at the man standing by Angel. She’d seen him around the city, of course, but she didn’t trust. Neither did Angel. If Angel had trusted him she wouldn't have thought twice about taking him to the Safe Space.

Or would she? Angel seemed to have a unique set of boundaries that she wouldn't cross. Ellie wasn’t entirely certain what the pattern was to those boundaries, and it was possible that bringing someone to another person’s home was one of them. Or, it was possible she didn’t trust the man. Ellie couldn't say.

There was a lot about Angel that Ellie didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why the older girl took the time to protect the younger kids when she clearly didn’t need that protection herself. (Ellie hadn’t been sure of that one until she watched Angel effortlessly pick up a huge concrete block with one hand.) She didn’t understand that odd way that Angel would sometimes speak, as though she was talking around something, the way that adults tended to do about sex stuff. Only—the things Angel talked around didn’t seem connected.

She talked around the Avengers, never calling them by name or even by the hero nicknames that everyone knew.

She talked around Stark Industries and Oscorp.

She talked around Central Park, never calling it by name. It was always, “the park.”

She talked around the authorities trying to grab the kids, never naming them by name.

She talked around the Kingpin. All of the street children knew about him (his men would feed them sometimes), but she never mentioned him or talked about him, but would talk all around his operations.

None of those things seemed to be connected. Of course, the kids had things they wouldn't talk about. Juby’s dad. Anna Marie’s mom. Remy’s aunt and uncle. But those things were all connected, all similar. There were reasons they talked around those people that all of the other children knew. Understood.

Maybe Yukio could explain it. She seemed to have a much better understanding of people than Ellie did. And she was nice to talk to. Didn’t insist on this “share your feelings” shit the adults were so fond of.

Ellie turned her attention back to the man perching on a box next to Angel. Angel was, as always, relaxed as she lounged in her spot. The man tried to look relaxed, but living on the streets and frequently running for her life had made Ellie too good at reading body language to be fooled. He was nervous. The question was why? Why was he nervous about talking to a bunch of children that were no threat to him?

Ellie looked around the abandoned subway platform. There was an odd sense of satisfaction in having this meeting in their old home, while their new one was safe from prying eyes and visitors. “Everyone here?” she asked.

“The twins are watching Copper,” Remy said.

Well, they were attached to the young woman they’d rescued, even if Ellie wasn’t entirely certain why. “Good enough,” she admitted as she turned to the man, still sitting next to Angel. “Talk,” she ordered shortly. The man looked startled; Angel just grinned.

The man spoke. “O—kay then,” he said, clearly slightly nervous. The children watched him silently. “Stark’s building a house in the middle of nowhere for children he’s going to rescue from labs and wants you guys to start living there first so it’s not sterile when we get them out.” The man took a breath. “Stark is—”

“We know who Stark is,” Ellie said coldly. Her eyes shifted to Angel. “What do you think about this?”

“I think,” said Angel, “that I’m not going to give my opinion.”

There were surprised murmurs behind and around Ellie—but Ellie wasn’t surprised. “Because you’re not going to be here,” Ellie stated.

“Bingo!” cheered Angel, looking smug. “I’m not going to give an opinion, because I won’t be here to catch the fallout if everything goes sideways.” The older girl chuckled and leaned on a hand.

Some might think that she was amused by their predicaments. Some might yell at her for her callous behavior. Ellie noticed that the people who would do this were the same ones who thought sending her back to that “home” was a good idea.

“What do you recommend?” asked Ellie.

“Learn,” said Angel. She gestured to the man. “He’s right here, and I’ll know if he lies. Ask questions. Think. What are the benefits of moving to a new place? What are the benefits of staying here? Which is better for you?”

The man made a choked sound that both girls ignored. Ellie crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at Angel before sighed. “Fine,” she said grimly before turning to the man. “Well? What are the benefits to living in Stark’s new home for street children?”

“And lab children,” interjected the man. He laughed nervously, eyes a little wide at the solemn stares he was getting from the silent children around him. “Okay, it’s like this. Stark wants to make this not just a house, but a home; so there are going to be people—adults—to act as parents. But there’s also going to be teachers, because education is important, and shrinks, because hot damn, we adults need some fucking therapy after the shit we’ve been through.” A pause and the man coughed. “And the kids too, of course,” he added lamely.

“You also won’t know the lay of the land there like you do the streets,” Angel spoke up. “It will be a new place, a new environment with people you don’t know. Whether or not anyone acknowledges it,” the older girl added as she looked around the group, “you know the adults of the city. You know who can be trusted, who needs avoided, and have escape routes everywhere. These are things you’d have to build in the place Stark,” her lips twitched oddly at the name, “is building.”

Ellie could see all of that. Angel spoke nothing more than the truth. “And?” she demanded. “What are the benefits to staying here?”

Angel’s grin widened, clearly pleased with the younger girl. “Here,” she said, “you know the lay of the land. You have escape routes, you have plans in place in case there’s another alien invasion,” both of them ignored the choking sounds from the man, “and your safe place is almost self-sustaining. But,” Angel added holding up a cautionary finger, “it isn’t yet. And while it’s a good place to hide if things are crashing down from the sky, it’s not monster proof.”

Remy scoffed. “Monsters ain’t found it,” he said confidently.

“Monsters aren’t looking,” Angel countered. “The one controlling them doesn’t see you as a threat. As long as none of them actually follow one of you to it, it’s not going to be found.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” the man said, suspicion in his voice.

“Shush,” Angel said playfully. “This isn’t about me.” She turned her attention back to the children. “The downsides of this,” she added, “are that it isn’t self-sustaining yet. You still have to venture outside to get food. And food is something that the house being built will most definitely have.”

“Really?” asked a pitifully hopeful voice.

Ellie winced. Of course they were hungry. The fruits and vegetables that were growing in the safe place haven’t actually started producing yet. And food, as Ellie knew, was a powerful motivation.

The man standing by Angel didn’t look surprised at the question. Most adults would have been and Ellie felt a tiny prick of something that could almost be called respect for the adult who didn’t immediately gush at why such a question was necessary. “Not only will there be food,” the man added, “but it will always be available to anyone who is hungry.”

“I see.” Ellie stepped forward, blocking the man from saying anything more. “We’ll discuss it,” the girl told him firmly.

“What are you—”

“I said we’ll discuss it.” Ellie’s eyes narrowed and the man took a step back, not wanting to press her. She nodded and turned to gesture the children out of the room. The man moved to follow him, but one of Angel’s arms grabbed him and held him in place while the children left. Ellie, seeing the movement, nodded at the older girl, who winked back.

Angel wasn’t going to make their decision for them. But, she was fair. She had worked to lay out both the good and the bad of both decisions.

Ellie followed the children out and back to the safe space. They had a decision to make.

[gaangadventures]

Soulmates

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Feel free to request!! c:

You used to meditate alone in the mornings, although after the Southern Air Temple, the airbender himself would start to join you. You thought it was nice and it had somewhat reminded you of how you had done the same with your brother.

But you had yet to find out what they thought of your scar, mostly keeping it covered with your armor. You almost hadn’t wanted them to find out either, since a firebender having a burn scar was practically unheard of.

However they may think of you, you at least wanted them on your side. Where else would you go now? Your brother thought you were a traitor, and your father had banished you years ago. Thinking of Zuko had brought a small frown to your face, even though you tried to keep your expressions neutral for the most part.

“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?” Sokka remarked, fiddling with the very same map that you had been tempted to burn on more than one occasion. Mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to read it.

“Well, I know it’s near water.” Aang answered, before turning to the lemur on his shoulder.“Momo, marbles please.”

At the moment, you had been attempting to help Katara with her sewing. Although it was mostly just her trying to teach you since you had never done it before. There had been no need for you to do so, and you never learned. “How does that work?” You muttered, mostly to yourself, biting the side of your lip in concentration.

“You’re doing it backwards.” Katara tried to explain, showing you how to start again, and you let out a huff of frustration.

“How does Sokka even get so many dumb holes in his pants?” You were almost ready to give up, but hadn’t really wanted to since the only other girl was actually starting to get along with you.

“Here, like this.” She tried one more time, and you had finally understood it somewhat. Attempting to patch it, you had actually managed to sew part of it, even if it did not look as good as what Katara had done.

“Hey Y/N, Katara, check out this airbending trick.” While continuing to sew, he attempted to catch your attention, but you knew that if you looked away from this, you would not be able to continue it.

“That’s great, Aang.” You spoke up, pulling the thread and tightening the patch.

“That’s really nice.” Katara followed, having not looked as well as you.

“Neither of you even looked.”

“That’s great.” 

“But I’m not doing it now.”

“You need to give girls space when they do their sewing.” He was in for it now.

“What does us being girls have to do with sewing?” She asked, and you could tell by the edge of her tone that there would be an argument and it almost made you want to laugh. The last argument you had gotten into with your own brother had actually been about his obsession with the avatar, and with that thought, you began to wonder if more siblings were like you and your own or more like Katara and Sokka. 

“Simple. Girls are better at fixing pants than guys, and guys are better at hunting and fighting and stuff like that. It’s just the natural order of things.”

“All done with your pants, and look what a great job we did.” You couldn’t help but laugh when she threw the pants and it had hit him in the face. He deserved that one.

“Wait! I was just kidding! I can’t wear these! Katara, please!” He pleaded, showing how bad the hole was by putting his arm through it. “Y/N?” You only shook your head, feeling oddly satisfied at this.

“Relax, Sokka. Where we’re going, you won’t need any pants.” Hearing Aang talk, your satisfaction had been replaced with concern.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” You asked, raising your eyebrow as your worry and concern only grew. “Aang, where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” You only got an excited response and a grin, and you hoped that this sort of thing was optional.

When Appa had landed onto the ground, you could safely say that you could sew a patch now and you were more excited over the fact that Katara was actually talking to you. Did she forget you were a firebender or something? You assumed so and it wasn’t like you liked to show off your ability much, if at all.

“We just made a pit stop yesterday. Shouldn’t we get a little more flying done before we camp out?” The water tribe boy mentioned, as everyone was getting off of the bison.

“He’s right. At this rate, we won’t get to the North Pole until spring.”

“But Appa’s tired already. Aren’t you, boy?” At Aang’s sentence to his companion, he let out a low grunt. “I said, aren’t you, boy?” He repeated, lightly elbowing Appa, and the bison began to yawn.

“Yeah, that was real convincing. Still, hard to argue with a 10-ton magical monster.” Sokka spoke up, and you pet Appa before beginning to follow the rest of the group as they walked towards the water.

You had heard of these from your brother, but actually seeing the giant fish leap out of the water was another thing.

“That’s why we’re here--elephant koi, and I’m gonna ride it. Y/N, you’ve gotta watch me.” Once you realized just what he was doing, you immediately turned your gaze, your cheeks most likely turning pink. Did he not own a swimsuit or something? You did, but you had left yours back at the palace since you no longer needed it. That, and you had outgrown that one by now.

Your gaze was brought back to him however when you heard a splash and a “Cold!” Now seeing him on top of the elephant koi, you couldn’t help but be in awe. And also maybe a little jealous since you wanted to do that too and it looked so cool!

“He looks pretty good out there.” You commented, only for Sokka to put his two cents in.

“Are you kidding? The fish is doing all the work.”

“No, Appa! Don’t eat that!” You cried out, hurrying over to get the bison away from it, he was most definitely not supposed to be eating that.

“There’s something in the water!” Sokka yelled, catching your attention before you hurried back to the shore, listening to Momo chatter out his worries as well.

“What’s wrong?”

“Aang’s in trouble.” Katara informed you, and all three of you began yelling at him to come back. Whether he could hear any of you was another thing however.

It seemed like he didn’t quite understand since he waved at you guys before the giant koi had sent him flying into the water, only moments before another giant creature rose its large fin from the waters. What even was that? Once Aang could see it, he was quite literally running across the water. You were just glad that he had run into Sokka upon reaching the shore instead of you. That had to have hurt.

“What was that thing?” Katara was quick to ask, your gaze flickering from each sibling and then Aang.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, let’s not stick around to find out. Time to hit the road.” Sokka placed his input, and you were thinking of something to add to the conversation when all of you were overtaken before any of you could even try to use your bending.

Being blindfolded and having your arms bound at the same time was not a pleasant feeling.

“Or we could stay a while.” Sokka added to his previous statement, while you were thinking of ways to escape. You could burn your way through, but you weren’t sure just how many there were or if you could even get the others out. So for now, you supposed you’d let this play out while being practically dragged along by some strangers.

“You four have some explaining to do.” A man said, the four of you now bound to a pole that you were itching to burn. But you weren’t exactly up for hurting your companions, as your control wasn’t that great yet.

“And if you don’t answer all our questions, we’re throwing you back in the water with the Unagi.”

“Is that what that thing is called?” You couldn’t help but mutter, mostly ignoring whoever was talking. You couldn’t see them anyway.

“Show yourselves, cowards!” The water tribe boy shouted, before all of your blindfolds were taken off. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the light, you could see that they were all women with a similar uniform, and you bit your lip to keep most of your excitement from bubbling out. These were the Kyoshi Warriors! You had read about them after sneaking into the royal library one night and had accidentally stayed up too late that night, you had been absolutely dreadful at training the next day.

At the faint memory, you looked down at your covered wrist. It hadn’t left as bad of a scar as the latest one had, nearly limiting your range of motion.

“Who are you? Where are the men who ambushed us?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. All of you were meeting spectacular warriors, of course Sokka had to be sexist about it. How did Katara put up with him for so long?

“There were no men. We ambushed you. Now tell us, who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Wait a second. There’s no way a bunch of girls took us down.”

“I think you’re forgetting your sister is stronger than you.” You remarked, hoping to knock him down a couple pegs.

“A bunch of girls, huh? The unagi’s going to eat well tonight.”

“No, don’t hurt him! He didn’t mean it! My brother’s just an idiot sometimes.” Katara interrupted, while you hadn’t said anything in his defense.

“It’s my fault. I’m sorry we came here. I wanted to ride the elephant koi.” Aang spoke up, a mildly sad tone to his voice.

“How do we know you’re not Fire Nation spies? Even one of you is dressed like Fire Nation.” The man in blue mentioned, pointing at you.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t exactly have any spare clothes.” You commented, your own voice holding a ruder tone than you had meant to. “I’m not a Fire Nation spy.” You carefully answered, having almost said that you weren’t Fire Nation, but that would be a lie. You didn’t agree with the nation and such, but it was your home. You couldn’t deny that part of yourself.

“Kyoshi stayed out of the war so far, and we intend to keep it that way.” You assumed the man was the leader of the island, and you couldn’t say you liked him much but you could at least respect him for not having hurt any of you. Yet.

“This island is named for Kyoshi? I know Kyoshi.”

“Ha! How could you possibly know her? Avatar Kyoshi was born here four hundred years ago. She’s been dead for centuries.”

“I know her because I’m the avatar.”

“That’s impossible. The last avatar was an airbender who disappeared a hundred years ago.”

“That’s me.”

“Aang, now’s a good time to do some airbending.” You added, looking at both Sokka and Aang to make sure you weren’t touching either of them before closing your eyes and heating up your hands. You had to be precise with this.

“Throw the impostor to the unagi.” The leader cried out, and suddenly the ounce of respect you had for him was gone as the Kyoshi Warriors drew up their fans and you had very carefully burned the rope through without even setting the rest of it alight.

At the leader’s command though, the monk had broken out of the ropes by flying into the air and you slipped out of your own at the same moment.

“It’s true. You are the avatar.” The leader finally agreed as Aang floated down to the ground.

“Now, check this out.” He said, before grabbing the marbles out of his shawl and spinning them in between his hands without touching them, which you had to admit was pretty cool. And apparently the people of Kyoshi Island agreed, cheering for him, and even one guy was foaming at the mouth. Was he okay? You blinked, looking at the now unconscious man in concern.

You stretched, somewhat worried about what the people would do if they found out you were a firebender with a high status. Would you be cast out? Or would it be worse when they found your title? Princess Y/N, banished princess of the Fire Nation. They couldn’t use you for much, seeing as you were banished, your father wouldn’t accept a ransom. Practically trapped in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed when everyone else was awake after a night in one of the empty houses on Kyoshi.

You also hadn’t noticed that you had started pacing some time ago, your gaze switching from the floor and to the statue of avatar Kyoshi being repainted.

“All right! Dessert for breakfast! These people sure know how to treat an avatar. Mm! Y/N, you’ve gotta try these.” Aang exclaimed after a few people had brought over practically a feast of pastries, and he was quick to try a few as they left. Katara was hesitantly tasting a puff of some sort on his left. You weren’t even sure if your stomach could handle anything yet, as you had been bubbling with nervousness, but you caved at his look.

“Maybe just a bite.” You answered, carefully sitting at his right before reaching and taking a puff that looked somewhat similar to what Katara had picked up. You glanced over at the rest of them before taking a bite and being pleasantly surprised at the taste of it.

“Sokka, what’s your problem? Eat!” 

“I’m not hungry.”

“But you’re always hungry.”

“Since I’ve known you, you’ve complained more about food than anything else. Are you that upset about being beaten by girls? My sister and I used to beat my brother all of the time.” You spoke up, making sure not to talk with any food in your mouth. 

“They snuck up on me.” Sokka retorted, only for his sister to mouth off as well.

“Right, and then they kicked your butt.”

“Sneak attacks don’t count. Tie me up with ropes.. I’ll show them a thing or two.. I’m not scared of any girls. Who do they think are, anyway?” Sokka exclaimed, before beginning to leave the room muttering to himself, then promptly turning around to grab a few desserts.

“What’s he so angry about? It’s great here. They’re giving us the royal treatment.” With that, you held back a wince. You did not want to be a royal anymore, not that you really did in the first place.

“I disagree. I think I prefer camping out in the woods.” At least then you wouldn’t have to worry about failing your firebending training or if you’d done too well to the point of upsetting either sibling.

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable. It’s risky for us to stay in one place for very long. Especially with Y/N and her brother on our trail.” At Katara’s comment, you only nodded in agreement, although you were saddened at the thought of your last meeting with your brother.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. Besides, did you see how happy I’m making this town? They’re even cleaning up that statue in my honor.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you excited about being the avatar. I just hope it doesn’t all go to your head.”

“Come on, you know me better than that. I’m just a simple monk.” He said, standing up and looking out through the open window, immediately hearing girls cheer. 

As he left the house, he had been chased around by his fangirls while you had been helping Katara ready with things she was more accustomed to. Holding a jar as she picked out the ingredients wasn’t difficult, you thought as Aang had managed to excuse himself from his fangirls for a moment.

“Hey Aang. Can you help carry this back to the room? It’s a little heavy.” Katara asked, while you just bit your tongue to keep from saying anything rude.

“Actually, I can’t right now.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I promised the girls I’d give them a ride on Appa. Why don’t you two come with us? It’ll be fun.”

“Watching you show off for a bunch of girls does not sound like fun.”

“Well, neither does carrying your basket.”

“It’s not my basket. These supplies are for our trip. I told you, we have to leave Kyoshi soon.”

“I don’t want to leave Kyoshi yet. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something I really like about this place.”

“Oh, I could tell you what it is.” You muttered, eyes narrowed at the mob of girls already forming not too far away.

“What’s taking you so long, Aangie?” One of them yelled at him, and if you were almost tempted to throw a ball of fire at her. That was your soulmate she was talking to like that!

“Aangie?” Katara asked, and you were so very glad that she happened to be saying pretty much everything that you wouldn’t.

“Just a second, Koko.” He turned around, giving her a smile and a wave.

“Simple monk, right?” You remarked, before forcing yourself to somewhat relax upon seeing a bit of steam coming from your hands. You had to be calm before you set something ablaze, but at least you were practicing your self-control lately.

“I thought you promised that this avatar stuff wouldn’t go to your head.” Katara said

“It didn’t. You know what I think? You two just don’t want to come because you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?” You almost scoffed, although you were pretty sure that he had hit the nail right on the head there. 

“Jealous that we’re having so much fun without you.” Aang responded, but you hadn’t said a word this time.

“That’s ridiculous.” Katara agreed with you, placing one more ingredient in the heavy jar.

“It is a little ridiculous, but I understand.” Aang said, causing you both to huff and walk off, heavy jars in each of your arms.

Heading back to the room, the two of you put the jars not too far from the entrance so that you wouldn’t have to carry it too far when the group would leave.

“He was right, wasn’t he?” Katara coolly commented, leaving you to almost babble in surprise, before ultimately giving up.

“Yeah.” You answered shortly, letting her speak as you began your stretches as she started to practice with her waterbending.

“Is it his name on your wrist?” To which, you nodded, taking a layer of clothing off as you finished them and began your firebending training.

“I doubt it’s my name on his though.” You admitted, feeling like you had actually managed to make a friend without either Azula or Zuko being friends with them first. It also happened to be the first time anyone had seen the majority of your scar apart from the physician.

“Y/N, when did that happen?” Katara asked, a bit of concern seeping into her tone for her newfound friend, once she could see the extent of your scar that covered your shoulder and all the way down to your right wrist.

“It happened three years ago.” You said, feeling a bit of shame for being a firebender with a burn scar, but mostly anger at what your father had done to both of you because the two of you disagreed with him in different ways.

“Oh spirits. . Y/N.. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry that happened.” You weren’t sure what she was thinking of when she fell quiet.

“Hey, Katara, it’ll be okay.” You murmured, before continuing, unsure of whether or not you should hug her.

“Can I ask, who did this?”

“My father. But I left, and I don’t plan on going back.” You answered, stiffening for a moment when she hugged you, not having expected it.

As you each turned back to your training, having bonded more than either of you expected, in walks the avatar himself.

“Y/N, remember how the unagi almost got me yesterday?

“Yeah.” You answered curtly, creating a flame in your hand as you balanced yourself on one leg. This was about control, and you needed to practice. You made the fire curl like as if it was water around your hands.

“Well, I’m gonna go ride it now. It’s going to be real dangerous.”

“Good for you.”

“You’re not going to stop me?”

“Nope, have fun.” 

“I will.”

“Great.”

“I know it’s great.”

“Well, I’m glad you know.”

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

“Good!”

“Fine!” The two of you bickered back and forth, your own flame growing in size but before you lost control, you dispelled it so you could calm down.

“Are you sure that it’s not your name on his wrist?” She teased, your cheeks growing hotter as you dropped your flame again.

“I’m sure!” You exclaimed, although you hoped that she was right.

“Okay, then go see him when you’re done and see how he reacts, and I won’t be going.”

“He likes you, not me, Katara.” You remarked bluntly, glancing over at her to see her just shaking her head. You would go to see him alone, and you’d be proven right, of course.

You always liked to be right, and this would be no different. Or maybe you just couldn’t imagine someone liking you for you. You shook your head at the thought of it. Now you couldn’t focus, and you ended up leaving earlier than you usually would have finished your training.

You ended up arriving at the shore just in time as his fangirls were leaving, secretly being quite satisfied with that fact, not that you would admit that.

“Y/N, you showed up!” You noticed that he happened to be quite excited, but you chalked it up to it just being because you were his friend.

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure you didn’t get eaten or anything. I was worried.”

“Back there you acted like you didn’t care.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I did let all that attention go to my head. I was being a jerk.”

“Alright jerk, now get out of the water before you get sick.” You joked, knowing that he wouldn’t take that seriously.

“On my way!” He yelled back, before swimming back as you noticed the unagi behind him. Within moments, the creature had caught up with him, lifting him out of the water on its scales only to spray water out of its mouth at him, but you noticed he was at least alive when he was screaming and holding onto its whiskers, being flung around like a ragdoll. You hurried towards him when he had finally let go, landing in the water. For a moment you wished you could bend water instead when you grabbed onto him and the unagi leaned down to see you, but you shot a ball of fire at it. You missed and it was quick to spray where you were, creating a wave and knocking the both of you backwards.

The two of you had been lucky when you washed up a bit behind rocks, having a natural cover, and the serpent hadn’t seen you. Upon looking out at the sea again, you could see the metal Fire Nation ship and you instantly knew it was Zuko’s. Skillfully hiding behind some rocks as komodo rhinos walked onto the island, you moved Aang to wake him up.

“Y/N. .” He coughed out, while you let out a breath of both exasperation and relief. “Don’t ride the unagi. Not fun.”

You had been quick to help him up onto his feet and head back to the town, 

“Hey avatar, these little girls can’t help you now.”

“Hey, over here!” Aang yelled out to your brother, as you tried your best to control the flames burning the houses. He kept him distracted as best as he could, and you couldn’t help the village as it began to burn down, with even the repainted statue of Kyoshi burning.

“Look what I brought to this place.”

“This isn’t your fault.” 

“Yes, it is. These people got their town destroyed trying to protect me.”

“Zuko will leave Kyoshi to follow us if we leave. I think it’s the best way.” You attempted to comfort him, while you were helping Katara keep kids away from the flames.

“I’ll call Appa.”

The three of you and Momo were on Appa, helping Sokka onto the bison, as you glanced down at the flames and you could see your brother in it all. You probably wouldn't have noticed, had it not been for his hair.

“I know it’s hard, but you did the right thing, Aang.” You spoke up, noticing the look on his face. “ Zuko would have destroyed the whole island if we stayed.”  You couldn’t help but think that it was partially your fault, remembering the betrayed look on his face when you had gone against him and helped the avatar. Blinking the memory away, you quickly saw him jump off of Appa, simply falling into the water only to come out riding the unagi. Letting your shoulders drop for a moment, you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised when he used the serpent’s ability to spray water to help the village.

You were at least glad when he jumped back up and Appa had managed to catch him just in time.

“I know, I know. That was stupid and dangerous.”

“Glad to know you’re learning.” You said as he came back, before giving him a momentarily awkward hug.

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x OC)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about Maggie’s past. Maggie and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Maggie playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love. 

She maneuvered the bins to her satisfaction and shut the closet doors, pushing against them to squeeze everything in until the latch clicked. She turned to see him watching her and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. She gave him a wink and a grin, and he was falling all over again. 

She perched on the corner of her desk with a tired sigh, and he made his way across the room to her. She reached for him as soon as he was within arms length, wrapping her arms around his middle. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily.

“Yo, Brooksy!” 

The call of her name from the hallway startled them both. Anita began to step over the threshold, continuing, “You ready to get absolutely crunk tonight or— oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes tracking Spencer’s frame. “Dr. Reid.”

Spencer stepped back from Maggie, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Maggie. “So, are we going out or what?”

Maggie groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Maggie chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Maggie stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Maggie was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor. 

They’d met up with her and Sam at a Mexican restaurant in Tenleytown. Sam was wonderfully kind and funny, even apologizing for having “flipped him the bird” the last time she saw him. And it was a good thing Sam was being friendly, because Anita was decidedly… less so. 

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Maggie’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Maggie’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t. 

Thankfully, Maggie and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool. 

“Maggie is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Maggie insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. 

“The field trip!” Maggie turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously. 

“So many things,” Sam baited. 

Maggie covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening. 

“Okay, so many things happened,” Maggie started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Maggie composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured. 

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Maggie agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in. 

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Maggie turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.” 

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Maggie clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Maggie dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles. 

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Maggie lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space. 

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Maggie lamented to him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Maggie complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” 

She gave Spencer a reassuring smile, and he tried not to panic as she stood and left him with Sam and Anita. And because the universe was toying with him, at that exact moment, Sam’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket with a sigh. 

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first. 

“You know what’s annoying?”

Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Considering that the issues one might classify as an annoyance vary for each individual person, there are over seven billion potential answers to that question.”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She dropped her hand back to the table. She still didn’t crack a smile, and her gaze bore into him. “I don’t know how much you know about Owen, and she’d probably kill me for saying anything. But he was a real piece of shit.”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Maggie might have been with before him. 

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “The point is, I didn’t know he was treating her like garbage until it was too late. He was already all…” She gestured wildly around her head. “In her head, telling her lies about herself, fucking her up, isolating her. For years he did that. And then it took her years to get him out of her head. To— unlearn all the lies. To build herself back up.” 

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Maggie had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored. 

“You’re a fed or whatever, so I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she continued, “but I would love nothing more than to put that fucker six feet under.” She ran her hand through her hair, and when she continued her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “All that to say, I… I wasn’t there for her when Owen was destroying her from the inside out. And I will never let that happen again.” 

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze, and he couldn’t quite think of the appropriate response. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His brain was still fixated on the idea that anyone had ever hurt the loveliest and kindest woman he’d ever met.

 “Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Maggie slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee. 

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Maggie with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Maggie with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment. 

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs. 

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy. 

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door. 

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips. 

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face at the endearment, the way that North Carolina dripped syrupy and thick over every syllable. She pulled him down to meet her in a sweet kiss, quickly deepening it as he dug his fingers into the softness of her hips. Her hands wound into his hair, tugging lightly and holding him close. 

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. She laced their fingers together and leaned on him while she kicked off her shoes. He toed his own off and then allowed her to lead him toward his bedroom. 

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again. 

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

“Ha, ha.” Part of him wanted to bring up Owen, but she was so happy and warm and comfortable in this moment. He didn’t want to ruin this night of celebration. He didn’t want to ruin this day that had been so full of love. They had plenty of time to discuss Owen. 

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

A week later, the pair of them were strolling up the sidewalk to the LaMontagne house. Will and JJ were long overdue for a date night, and Spencer had jumped at the opportunity for the two of them to babysit. When they reached the door, Spencer rang the bell and Maggie waited slightly behind him. 

They could hear the joy from behind the door before it even opened, Michael’s high pitched giggle and Will’s booming laugh. Spencer was already leaning down in preparation, and Michael absolutely launched into his arms as soon as the door swung open. Spencer clocked the moment that Michael spotted her, purely because he practically squealed and squirmed right out of Spencer’s grip. 

“I knew it!” Michael cried. 

He wrapped himself around Maggie’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Maggie forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Brooks.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Brooks’ boyfriend.”

Maggie’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?” 

Michael waited patiently for her to take off her shoes. “Well firstly, he started picking me up all the time, which was nice but weird. And then he wouldn’t stop asking about you. It was kind of annoying.” Spencer made a choking sound, and Will stifled a laugh. 

“You guys wear the same shoes, and you both love Halloween and tea and reading. I knew you’d like him if he could be a guest reader.” As he led her into the living room, Michael continued, “Oh, and you wore his purple scarf. He doesn’t let anyone wear the purple scarf.”

Spencer vividly remembered that morning— she’d slept over after a midweek date night in April. The temperatures in DC had plummeted overnight, and the outfit she’d brought left her woefully under-dressed for the chilly spring day. He’d wrapped her up in the soft, purple scarf without a second thought. 

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Maggie into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

Spencer pulled his legs up in the tiny chair, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a moment to watch the scene in front of him unfold. Usually on nights like this, Michael ran him ragged with demands for magic tricks, story time, and playing pretend. Tonight, he’d actually been able to catch up with middle school (middle school!) Henry, because Michael was totally and completely enthralled by Maggie. 

She was helping with the last of the setup for the “restaurant,” organizing Michael’s menus and straightening his clip-on tie. Of course he’d seen her with kids before. But something about being in this playroom— one that he’d spent so many hours in, watching two of his favorite kids grow up— had him feeling warm from head to toe. 

Henry had bounded down the stairs at the news that uncle Spencer was dating his former kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t realized that she’d taught Henry, too, although with the timeline of her teaching career he should have put two and two together. The generally reserved middle schooler had positively beamed when she gasped out, “Gosh, I always forget how tall you’ve gotten!”

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Hen!” Michael called. 

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him. 

Maggie tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”

“No, no, no.” Michael pushed her toward the kid-sized table. “You and uncle Spencer are on a fancy date.”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully and stood from the chair, pulling it out for her like a perfect gentleman. She beamed at him and gave him a wink. “Thank you, sir.”

She dropped lightly into the chair across from Spencer and laughed a little at his folded limbs. “You look very comfortable.” 

He laughed and stretched his legs out straight. “The picture of comfort, really. These chairs were clearly designed with six foot men in mind.”

“I’m sorry I’m so under-dressed for our fancy dinner date,” she teased, dropping her chin into her hand. 

“You look stunning, as always.” He gestured to the messy braid Michael had folded her hair into. “I especially love what you’re doing with your hair.”

She sucked in a dramatic breath, bringing up her hand to pat lightly at her hair. “You’re making me blush, doctor.” She peeked behind her and then lowered her voice. “I’m probably going to cry when I try to brush the rats out.” 

He looked at her sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I think I’ve got a wide tooth comb, and I can help. I’ve gotten pretty good at detangling Michael’s handiwork.”

Before she could respond, Michael made his way to the table, holding a dish towel over his arm. “Good evening, sir, madam.” 

“Good evening,” they chorused, with barely suppressed grins. 

“Compliments of the chef.” Michael held out his hand to reveal two slightly smushed strawberries.

“Oh, wow,” Maggie said, eyes wide and gesturing to Spencer. “Honey, do you want to—”

Spencer waved his hand, eyeing the berries warily. “No, no, please, help yourself.”

Maggie held back a smile and accepted the strawberries, holding them carefully in her hand and turning her attention back to Michael. “Thank you so much. What a wonderful appetizer. Could we hear the specials?”

That helped Michael remember the menus, and he pulled them from his pocket and cleared his throat. He handed them the construction paper menus. “Our specials tonight are roasted octopus and a steak tartar.”

From the kitchen, Henry mumbled, “Tartare.” 

“Tartare. Steak tartare is our special,” Michael corrected. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m that adventurous. Maybe my boyfriend is though,” Maggie told a grinning Michael. “What do you recommend for a picky eater?”

“My favorite is the chicken nuggets.”

“Well then, sign me up. One order of chicken nuggets.” Maggie handed him the menu. 

Spencer was still perusing the menu for Le Chateau LaMontagne. He smiled at Michael’s handwriting, but particularly at the places where he could tell Maggie had helped. “Everything looks delicious,” he finally decided, “but, you know... I think I’m also going to have the nuggets.”

…

When the boys were finally in bed, Spencer and Maggie settled down in the living room to untangle the mess of her hair. She sat on the floor in between his legs as he gently pulled each braid strand free. He smiled at the way she arched up into his touch, shivering when his fingers brushed over her neck. 

“You’re lucky,” he remarked, laying the last braid strand back into its original place. “Michael seems to have gotten a little better at braiding.”

She leaned her head back into his hands. “You detangled the whole thing?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. She brought her hands up to hold him against her, trying to deepen the kiss before laughing at the awkward angle and giving up. 

He sat up as she stood and moved to the couch, snuggling up close to him and tucking herself under his arm. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed. “For many reasons.”

Her hand drifted to rest on his tummy, her fingers immediately tracing little shapes over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “And tired, too.”

“Hmm?” 

He leaned his cheek against her head. “When you get tired, you, um— you start drawing on my stomach.” 

Her finger paused. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She shifted to raise her head to look at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve just— noticed.”

She smiled a little sleepily. “You know I love all of you. But I— well, I don’t know, really. I just like your tummy.” She gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s just— nice and comfy and perfect for resting on.” 

He covered her hand with his own and leaned forward to press their mouths together. She drew his bottom lip in between her own, sucking a little and then giving it a quick peck before pulling back and stifling a yawn into his chest. “Man, I am tired.” She snuggled back into him and resumed her tummy tracing. “What, um— what else have you noticed?”

He rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her impossibly closer. “You like to play with my hair.”

“Mmmm, guilty as charged.”

He smiled at the sleep creeping into her voice. “I like it, too.” He ran his fingers up to her shoulder, and then back down to the crook of her arm, soothing her closer to sleep. “Hmmmm. You always have at least one point of contact on my body at all times. It’s usually your hands, but sometimes it’s your head or even your toes— like when you tuck them under my leg.”

“Ugh— I’m sorry. Clingy and putting my feet on you,” she mumbled.

She might have been joking, but Anita’s words were replaying in his head. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past. He couldn’t go back and prevent her from being hurt by someone else. But he could be different in every way. He could be open and honest and vulnerable with her like he’d promised. 

“I’m not sorry. I love all of you,” he murmured, pulling her in closer and repeating her words back to her. 

“Even my feet?” 

He could also show her that there was absolutely nothing that he didn’t love about her. “Especially your feet.”

She huffed a sigh into his chest. “Y’got a foot thing I don’t know about?”

He laughed a little at that. “Only for yours. They’re very cute feet.”

“You’re weird,” she muttered, but she hugged him tighter when she said it.

“You love it.”

Her fingers on his tummy had come to rest comfortably just above his waistband, and he knew she was on the very edge of sleep. “Mmhm. Love you.”

He thought of all the little moments over the past few months.

Doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for overstepping. Are we dating? Sorry for being clingy. Sorry for taking so long to tell you. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “So much.”

———

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Series tags (x OC): @kyomito​

[2-cute-4-school]

Weaknesses

Group : NCT

Pairing : Johnny Suh x gender neutral!Reader

Genre : fluffy crack with a grain of angst ( a mess of everything basically)

TW : cursing

Word count : 1.6K  |   M.list

“How could you?”

You looked up, your widened orbs meeting Johnny’s narrowed eyes, raging emotions dancing wildly. Disappointment, frustration and even a hint of anger struck you harshly as soon as Johnny’s fixed glare settled on your frame. You shrunk back into yourself, recoiling from the menacing aura he strongly emanated.

“Johnny, I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, Y/N, sorry doesn’t fix it.”

Johnny gripped the thin stack of money residing in his hand tighter, he couldn’t acknowledge that his own lover would bring him down to this, tear him apart and cruelly seal his fate.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me, I though it would always be you and I against the world.”

“I have to, I’m sorry. Please try to understand.”

“What’s there to understand, Y/N? You betrayed me, played me on your fingers and now you’re asking for my understanding?”

The fire in you only seemed to rise in size, overcoming your senses and clouding your words.

“It’s your fault as much as it is mine, but at least I take responsibility for it, you coward.”

Jaehyun, who was sitting quietly beside Johnny, only observing the situation in case he was needed to break up what could evolve in more than it should have, laid a warm hand atop of Johnny’s shoulder. It was a way to comfort the older man, keep him in check wordlessly. Haechan, leaning over to you side, only let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly.

You forced yourself to ignore the disbelief tracing Johnny’s crestfallen features as you stretched out your hand towards him. You had to stay strong, you couldn’t relent and let him win, not this time.

“So, you’re really going through with this, huh? You’re really that heartless.”

His voice was barely above a mumble, breaking the thick tension overwhelming the room. His gaze switched from your face and down at your open palm facing the ceiling, forcing his facial muscles to relax and show a lack of feelings painting his formerly scrunched up face.

“Hand it over, Johnny, accept it already.”

“Fine! Fine, I should have expected this from you, I should have never laid out my trust before you just to have it trampled over right before my eyes. My mistake, am I right?”

His voice had a sharp edge, cutting through the strain caused by the silence that fell over them. Your hand stayed in its initial position, not straying from the original purpose you set firmly in your mind. Johnny, seeing that you wouldn’t back out, let out a loud grunt, slamming the money in your palm and let out another huff as he finally moved his stare away. He threw his hands up, his words rising in volume.

“I guess it’s over right? You really fucked me up, didn’t you? Congrats Y/N, hope you’re enjoying this for as long as you can.”

You had to suppress an eye roll as Haechan whistled lowly, almost unaudible to the rest of the room.

“This is sicker than any drama I’ve ever watched.”

Johnny turned swiftly to the younger boy, fixing him with a pointed glare that could make entire oceans freeze over in a single second. You eye-sided Haechan as he froze in his stance, widening his eyes with fake innocence, trying to soften the words escaping Johnny’s lips.

“Shut up, Satan’s spawn, you think I can’t tell that you’ve been pushing Y/n from the back the entire time just to get to this point?”

Haechan only blinked in faux confusion.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Johnny let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand over his face as if washing himself of the utter bullshit that came from Haechan shamelessly.

“I should have known you’ve been too quiet for too long.”

“Johnny, are you really making such a fuss over this?”

You interrupted their conversation, opting to try and work thing out peacefully. It didn’t seem to work out that well since your words only seemed to spur Johnyy’s frustration further on.

“I have every right in the world to make a fuss over this.”

“It’s not my fault you suck at financing yourself, don’t blame me for your lack of conscience when spending money”

“Don’t bring in my weakness in this, you’re the one who drove to this. You purposely drove me to bankruptcy!”

“In Monopoly, Johnny! In Monopoly!”

“You still plotted against me with the devil, Y/N, game or not!”

“I played the game fair and square. Fight me, loser.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. Haechan threw an arm around your shoulders as you slid a bill to him and cockily smirked in Johnny’s direction. It was at that moment that Johnny felt his eye twitch.

Even if he was fast enough, Jaehyun wouldn’t have stood a chance once Johnny lounged over, reaching out to you. Shrieks left your lips as Haechan moved away smoothly, leaving you in plain sight for the clear coming attack.

“Let’s see who’s a loser now, Y/N.”

His arms wrapped around your body, acting as cushions for your back that met the ground as soon as he leaned his weight on you, trapping your squirming frame underneath himself. His fingers came in contact with your sides, moving diligently over the soft expanse of your skin. Suppressed giggles escaped your lips against your will as you tried to fight against his hold, pushing weakly against his chest and flailing your legs aimlessly.

“Haechan! Help me, you asshole!”

Your words came out through wheezes of air forcing their way inside your lungs, against the unrelenting attacks coming from Johnny as his mouth split into an ever growing grin.

“No can do, dear, you already paid me for my services, you’re on your own now.”

You could hear the smugness in his voice, laced by the satisfaction he got by being a little shit. You could suddenly understand the deep desire some of the members often expressed to just strangle the kid into his next life. At his words, Johnny’s fingers seemed to glide around even faster, your giggles turning into loud laughs that covered any other sounds in the dorm.

“Heard that, dear? Now your only choice is to convince me to forgive you. Hmm, what would be a proper punishment for your thoughtless actions?”

He pretended to think about it as if laughing until you had no air with tears building in your eyes wasn’t fitted enough for his standards.

“Ah, I got it! Say ‘Johnny is the bestest boyfriend, superior to any other living being, a treasure to be adored only’“

To be honest, you would have rather swallowed your tongue than said that.

“Alright! Alright, stop it!”

Johnny ceased his attacks, looking at you expectantly. The way your glistening eyes gazed up at him, round and sparkly made his heart do a double take. His arms continued to cage you against the floor, but the look in his eyes changed as he gazed over your slightly parted lips, puffing out breaths of air, then over your flushed cheeks and softening completely once meeting your orbs. He felt his soul warm up at the sight of you, your cute state settling an overwhelming feeling of euphoria deep in his chest.

You smiled softly at him and at that moment he felt his soul leave his body, more than ready to leave aside your childish banter in order to just hold you against himself and cuddle you to another dimension. Johnny felt an intense urge to just love you in its purest form, returning to you the same amount of happiness you hand over to him by simply staying by his side through everything.

But Johnny was too caught up in his lovesick daydream to notice the innocent smile on your face turn into a rather cocky smirk.

“Johnny.”

“Hm?”

He acknowledged you, still halfway lost between his thoughts.

“Suck it, loser.”

With that, you pushed against him, desperately moving away from him as he regained his senses and jumped into action after hearing your words. He chased after your retreating form as you dashed past the other two boys, not ignoring the satisfactory chance to whack the back of Haechan’s head.

“Why you little minx, come back! I’m not done with you!”

The evening was filled with giggles and rushing footsteps as some of the other occupants of the dorm also decided to take parts and join the war, creating a huge mess that had to be dealt with sooner or later eventually.

Johnny did get his wish of cuddling you, although much later than he had initially wished for it. But nothing else seemed to matter now that he had you in his embrace after you had worn yourself out, his hands softly caressing you, cradling your frame as if holding his whole world under his fingertips. He cherished every rise of your chest as you breathed peacefully, every beat of your heart that he had been trusted with. He had made a silent promise to himself the day you trusted him with your happiness, to love you until the end of times and even now, years later, he found his heart latching desperately onto yours, yearning for you.

You were the ray of light missing from his rainbow after a stormy night, the light than shone through the clouds, breached his walls and warmed up his soul, leaving pleasant goosebumps on his skin. You faded away sometimes, but he never allowed himself to lose sight of you, no matter how dark and cold the world was to the two of you. He followed you and relished in the cozy moments you shared with every occasion you had. 

And at that moment, holding your curled up form gently with your back pressed to his chest, bodies molding together into one, Johnny thought that maybe his bad habit of spending money thoughtlessly wasn’t his only weakness.

[arcticfox007]

The Family We Choose

Destiel December Challenge 2020

Day 9: Family

This is a continuation of Days 2-8, you can see my master list or check it out on AO3 :)

***

               Cas and Dean were both damp from snow by the time they made it back to The Phoenix Emporium to meet up with Sam and Charlie, who weren’t even there yet. Dean reluctantly dropped Castiel’s hand as they walked in, no longer having an excuse to hold it. Dean wasn’t sure but he thought the angel looked disappointed when Dean pulled his hand away. He wasn’t sure when it had started happening, but Dean was beginning to believe that just maybe there was something more between him and his best friend. He’d spent so long pointedly ignoring his feelings for Cas because he assumed that angels didn’t feel love like humans did – and even if they could feel that, Dean wasn’t anything special. It was already an unexpected gift to just have Castiel in his life, especially considering what a screw up Dean was. His own mother didn’t seem to want to have a real relationship with him.

               One of the servers led them to a circular corner booth and brought out waters and menus for while they waited for the rest of their group. Dean pretended to be looking at the menu as he silently studied Cas on the other side of the table. He was always drawn to the angel’s intensely blue eyes, so much bluer than his vessel’s had been. Dean had thought maybe it was just his imagination that he could see something of the true angel in those eyes until he had spent more time with Claire. Jimmy’s daughter had her father’s eyes, Cas’ eyes weren’t quite the same. They were deeper somehow; it was why Dean sometimes forgot that he was staring at the angel for awkward amounts of time, it was like he could drown in the stormy blue irises.

               He was happy to see that Cas looked more relaxed than he’d really ever known him to be. It still bothered him that the angel wasn’t sure he fit in here. Every time Castiel left, Dean worried that he wouldn’t come back. He kept waiting for the day that Cas would realize that he couldn’t possibly be bothered with Dean of all people. All of these Christmas activities were more than worth it if they made Cas happy. Honestly, Dean had started having fun with it himself as well. When he’d worried about Sam having a good Christmas as a kid, Dean had never had time to enjoy any of it for himself. With Cas, though, they were having fun together. If everything kept going well maybe Cas would stay, at least as much as he could. Dean put his hand into his coat pocket to make sure the bee mug Cas had enjoyed was secure. At least he knew one part of Cas’ present was something he’d like.

               “Dean?” Dean realized that Cas must have said something while he’d been busy staring.

               “Sorry man, spaced out for a second. What’d you say?” Cas scooted over and tilted Dean’s head until he was looking at the snow filled window. For a moment Dean wasn’t sure what Cas wanted him to notice, but then he saw it and a slow smile spread across his face.

               “Hey, you found it!” Cas had discovered the last scavenger hunt angel. Dean turned to ask Cas if he still had the checklist for the game and was startled to find those startling eyes much closer than he had expected. His heart stuttered and for a moment Dean forgot to breathe. Cas’ eyes were wide and his breath soft and smelling of coffee and peppermint. Dean found himself leaning in as if Castiel’s lips were a force of gravity, and unexpectedly the angel started leaning in as well. Dean gulped air and – heard the scuff of a foot just behind him. Dean jumped in his seat and turned to see Sam and Charlie.

               “H-hi guys.” Dean cleared his throat nervously. He dared a glance at Cas, but the angel was apparently absorbed in the menu he likely wouldn’t order anything from. Sam scooted into the booth on Cas’ side while Charlie sat next to Dean, boxing him and Cas into the middle of the circular booth.

               “Heya. You guys have fun on your angel hunt?” Charlie smiled brightly as Sam looked between Dean and Cas with a thoughtful look on his face. Cas emerged from behind the menu, his cheeks brighter red than they had been in the cold.

               “Yes, thank you Charlie. We just found the last one in the window here.”

               “Cool! Anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying this place because we are staying overnight!” Dean tore his gaze away from the menu he was now hiding behind.

               “Since when?” Sam pointed out the window.

               “Do you really want to drive the Impala in a potential blizzard? Besides, Charlie already found us a suite at the historic bed and breakfast. It’s… quaint. Also, they have some sort of special blueberry French toast they make in the mornings, so we figured you’d be okay with it.” Dean conceded that he didn’t want to drive Baby in a blizzard and he had already parked her in a paid for covered space because it was the most secure parking lot he had found here. He also wouldn’t say no to French toast.

               “Is this place in walking distance?” Sam shook his head but Charlie assured him that her current car was a four-wheeler and could easily make the 7-minute drive to their accommodations. Castiel pointed out that if the storm was really that bad, they should get their food to-go. They all fell into a comfortable silence while they made their food choices and Charlie found a 24-hour Walmart right up the street so they could grab whatever they all needed for an overnight visit.

***

               After purchasing toothbrushes, toothpaste, and various other essentials, Charlie had dragged Cas away for what she had said was a secret mission. Dean had shrugged, willing to give their adopted sister whatever she wanted, and then he assigned Sam to waiting in the long 4 shopping days left until Christmas line while he wandered off to the toy section of the store. Dean snagged the Scooby-Doo themed Clue game, thinking it would be nice to have a family board game night while they were snowed in. He would have gotten some beer as well, but this was one of those places that only allowed separate liquor stores to sell alcohol. He decided to get apple cider and some plastic cups instead as he figured if their suite had a stove or even a microwave, he could make it work with some cinnamon sticks.

               While Dean planned for family game night, his mind was also mulling over the almost kiss that Sam and Charlie had interrupted. Dean could have sworn that Cas had also been leaning in towards him, but in part of Dean’s mind that just didn’t make sense. The idea that Cas could have actually wanted to kiss him was just too much. While Dean would be happy to kiss Castiel, he’d only rarely known Cas to have shown any interest in kissing anyone. Meg, April, and he vaguely recalled something about Hannah. Even if Cas had wanted to kiss him, did it mean the same thing it would have meant to Dean? Dean himself wouldn’t have been so ready to kiss Castiel not all that long ago, not until he had slowly begun to realize that it was okay for him to want to kiss guys. Well, not really guys so much as his best friend specifically, but he had always ignored it when he had been attracted to guys in the past. Charlie had been the one to call him on it, to mention more than once that Dean was a little bit too knowledgeable about how to flirt with a guy. While Dean hadn’t actually spoken to anyone, seeing Charlie so comfortable in her own sexuality and then seeing Claire falling for Kaia – it had helped. It had helped even more to see that no one he cared about thought twice about Charlie or Claire’s choices in partners.

               Dean’s mind raced. He had never talked to anyone about it because when he fell in love with his best friend, he felt like he was hung up on someone who would never feel the same. What’s the point of telling anyone you’re bisexual if you only date women? Dean was pretty sure there was a point, and if he was going to be uncharacteristically self-reflective, he may as well admit to himself that he hadn’t said anything when he was working it all out because he was afraid it would have made his feelings for Cas painfully obvious to anyone with eyes. Dean sighed deeply while contemplating a display of Christmas cookies with more intensity than was really warranted. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Cas and Charlie until they both made their presence known with their shared lack of understanding of personal space. He was soon crowded between energetic red-head and intense 6-foot-tall angel.

               “What’d you get, Dean?”

               “Just Clue, Charlie. I thought we could all have family board game night.” Charlie grinned eagerly and Cas glanced down at the board game Dean had under his arm.            

               “It’s that talking dog.” Cas seemed pleased that he knew the game’s theme. Dean tentatively smiled at him.

               “Yeah, I thought you and Sam at least would appreciate a Scooby-Doo mystery game.” Cas broke out into a laugh, and that made it more than worth it for Dean.

               “Do I even want to know, guys?” Dean encouraged Cas to tell Charlie about their cartoon adventures as they walked over to wait in line with Sam.

***

               Castiel couldn’t remember a time when he had felt happier. In all fairness, he had spent most of his existence without feeling much emotion at all, but this was different than even the brief moments of satisfaction he had experienced in more recent years. When they reached the Wayside Inn Cas agreed with the ‘quaint’ assessment. It was a stone inn from the 1800s. They had already been relatively packed by the time Sam and Charlie were looking for rooms, so all four of them were sharing one of the larger suites. There was a large window seat that Cas found appealing as he could watch as the snow fell and muffled all of the outdoor noise. He especially liked how the Christmas lights reflected off of the powdery white snow drifts.

               His human friends all ate dinner quickly while Cas stole a few fries just to get Dean to look at him. He could tell Dean felt awkward about what happened in the restaurant, and because Dean felt awkward, Cas felt it as well. He didn’t know what had come over him but he would try to restrain himself a bit more in the future. Even so, he had thought that Dean had leaned into the kiss as well. Cas rolled his shoulders to dispel some of the tingling sensation of his grace running through his wings. They had pulsed again when he and Dean had almost – well, if nothing else Dean’s first look at Castiel’s wings would be more impressive with how much they had healed.

               Even with the almost kiss hanging over Castiel’s thoughts, he was enjoying himself. Dean roared with laughter when Charlie showed him the picture of Sam in reindeer antlers. He suggested that they send it to Crowley as Sam protested that a moose and a reindeer were not the same thing. Dean announced that he had gotten everyone apple cider, and Charlie pulled out the matching Christmas pajamas she had gotten Cas to help her pick out. She quickly guilt-tripped the Winchesters into wearing them. Castiel didn’t argue with her, it felt wonderful to be included. He had even picked out fuzzy Christmas socks for all of them when he had been looped into Charlie’s plan, and gave Dean the one with angels on them. Charlie then proceeded to give both of the brothers the saddest face she could conjure up until they all agreed to sit in window seat together while Charlie propped up her phone to take a picture of them all.

               “Group hug!”, Charlie called out. Cas was startled to find himself wrapped in Dean’s arms from behind with Charlie and Sam on either side of him. The camera’s timer went off just as Cas’ smile encompassed his entire face. For the first time since rebelling against Heaven, Castiel felt like he was really part of a family.

 ***

@galaxycastiel, @jellydeans, @nguyenxtrang, @my-favourite-hellatus

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Afternoons at the Hawkins Community Pool

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word Count: 5,056

Warnings: Drowning, blood, hints at abuse, drug use, swearing

Author’s Note: GUESS WHO’S BACK, BACK AGAIN? MADDIE’S BACK, TELL A FRIEND! First fic finished in literal months hello yes I still write! I’m not washed up! Is this any good? I don’t know. Is this even a romance? No clue. Will anyone read it? PLEASE DO LMAO

Tags: This is my old list, if you want to be added or removed, shoot me an ask! @hotstuffhargrove @casaharrington @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @hipsmcgee @carolimedanvers

“It’s show time, ladies.”

Judging by the switch in the squad of middle aged women who made the west deck their pride rock, Billy Hargrove’s shift had begun.

You only had two hours left of your shift now. Once Billy got on deck, you could finally take a break. Fucking Heather always took an hour instead of the allotted thirty minute break, claiming to be easily susceptible to heat stroke.

As if you weren’t.

Still, now that her shift was over, everything would calm down.

Most people were either enraptured or absolutely terrified by Billy. He was…difficult to deal with.

Sure, he was sweet to the adults of the pool; the people who didn’t get in the way were always a favourite of the staffers, but to the kids? He was a menace. You didn’t understand why he’d take a job where he’d have to prioritize the safety of children.

As if on cue, Billy began his stupid strut to the south chair. You always took the north side, where the sun didn’t hit so hard. This gave Billy ample opportunity to strut around the deck like a peacock, smirking at the moms in heat, drooling over him.

“Afternoon ladies,” he crooned as he passed and you swore that at least three of them passed out from the sheer excitement of it all. He nodded to Mrs. Wheeler. Here came the cincher, the line that would make the group’s dreams come true and fuel their fantasies for weeks.

“Dig the new suit, Mrs. Wheeler.” He gave her a nod, chewing on something. If you had to guess, it was probably cinnamon gum. His breath always stunk of the stuff after shifts.

You averted your gaze after that; you knew exactly what would happen next. Billy would climb up onto his post and the ladies would check out his ass, giggling to themselves and high fiving Mrs. Wheeler for earning his attention for the day.

The image of Mrs. Wheeler’s sharply manicured hand gripping the top of her deckchair, mouth half open in utter lust, red lipstick smeared over the lines of her lips and eyes half closed as she stared at him climbing into the chair was something that would stick in your mind for the rest of the shift.

And then there was you on the other end of the pool, watching them like a creep.

Maybe you were the problem.

You had taken the job at the Hawkins Community Pool purely because it was tradition. You took the job every year, strapping into the bright red one piece with your hair pulled tight into a ponytail at the top of your head. You liked the job: the smell of chlorine and the sounds of happy kids splashing in the cold water. It was a relaxing job-most days nothing bad happened. The kids in town all took swim lessons in the winters one town over. Carmel had a heated indoor pool and a great deal on group swim lessons on weekends. You hadn’t seen a kid have a problem in the pool in three summers.

Today, someone had a problem.

You had just climbed out of your chair to head for your break. You were more than ready to step into the lush air conditioning of the office. Your back had only been turned for a second, Billy was supposed to be watching the pool anyway. But when you turned back you heard a scream.

Some weird kid had fallen into the deep end without a lifejacket. He couldn’t have been older than five. You quickly looked up to Billy.

That little fucking bitch.

He was flirting with Mrs. Wheeler.

You blew hard into your whistle, letting out a loud blast before taking off in a full sprint towards the deep end. You dove quickly into the pool and swam up to the kid before grabbing him under the armpits and swimming him into the shallow end, lifting him onto the deck and letting him cough and sputter.

“Do you need assistance? Can you breathe?” you asked quickly, catching your own breath. You had to ensure the victim was actually in need of medical assistance before you performed any life saving manoeuvres on them. The kid nodded quickly as an older man rushed up, bending down to rub his back. The kid immediately broke into tears, gripping tightly onto the man’s legs.

“Thank you.” The man said quickly, picking up the boy, who hugged him like his life depended on it. You assumed he was the parent and didn’t ask any more questions. Usually, you lay in with questions, but the kid couldn’t be more shook up. You watched to see where they’d go, letting out a relieved sigh when the group returned to the Wilson family, all examining the boy. He must be a cousin of theirs, in town for the weekend or something. You could go on your break with the knowledge that you hadn’t let a strange kid go off with an even stranger man who he didn’t know.

You blew your whistle again and pool activities resumed, although more cautiously. Now, you could start your break. But first, a quick pit stop.

You marched your way over to Billy and Mrs. Wheeler. It was as though they lived in their own bubble that sound couldn’t penetrate. Neither of them seemed to notice the commotion or hear the whistle blow. Mrs. Wheeler just kept laughing at whatever Billy was saying. She reached out to bat his arm and her fingers grazed there just a bit too longer, although neither of them noticed.

It was utterly disgusting.

You tapped Billy hard on his shoulder. He didn’t turn around. You tried again. Same response. You let out a loud, annoyed cough. Mrs. Wheeler didn’t even bat an eye at you and she could see you just over his shoulder. You finally blew a hard, short tweet into the whistle, effectively taking out Billy’s eardrum.

He turned fast, his face pulled into a sneer that you could only smile at. “What?” he snapped bitterly, fists clenched at his sides.

“Just wanted to make sure you could still hear. Since you missed the two other times I blew my whistle.” You replied, your fake smile turning sarcastic as you held his gaze.

“Sorry, I must have been distracting him, I’m sure he heard.” Mrs. Wheeler cut in, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. She looked too proud of that fact, her lustful gaze unhealthy looking.

“That’s alright Mrs. Wheeler.” You looked over her shoulders briefly, catching sight of her group packing up to leave. Your smile turned to a malicious smirk “Oh, your friends seem to be leaving. If you don’t have your locker key, you should go grab it before they leave, don’t want to have your purse get stuck again.”

The last three times she’d come to the pool, she’d given her key to Mrs. Carol Simpson, whose son Billy had threatened to ban upon entering the deck. Mrs. Wheeler ended up stranded without her key, her bag locked in the locked with no way of getting it out. She had to have the janitor of the pool open her locker with the master key and then, to make matters worse, she had to prove that the stuff was hers. All of her things were dumped on the deck as she tried to prove that her granny panties and tampons were hers based on the shrill cries that there was a Minnie Mouse keychain on her purse. She got her stuff back, at the expense of her humility.

“I gave my key to the front desk, won’t lose it again.” Mrs. Wheeler chuckled proudly, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck and ears.

“Oh, then you should ensure that they still have it. Mara is not the brightest bulb in the bunch, she’d lose her head if it wasn’t screwed on.” You replied, matching her laugh. Mrs. Wheeler’s smile dropped and she rushed off without another word.

You turned your attention back to Billy, your smile dropping away. “I’m going on my break, can you actually do your job while I’m gone.” You snapped bitterly.

“I was. Customer satisfaction is a key part of our job.” He made a big deal out leering at Mrs. Wheeler’s ass as she bent over to grab her things off the chair.

You scoffed “Watch the fucking pool, Hargrove, Mrs. Wheeler and her saggy ass will be back tomorrow.” You turned dramatically on your heel and stomped off.

You could scream. That boy was so…so…fucking frustrating! He was a nuisance and a pervert and a showboater and god, just a pig! All year he’d done nothing but screw anything in a skirt, just whoring around all year and making a mockery of some very nice girls. And now, now he decides to be a one woman man. And the woman is a married mother of three. What the fucking fuck??? How nasty! And she was into it? God who knew Karen Wheeler was a creep? Lock up your sons, mothers of Hawkins, Mrs. Wheeler is on the prowl for jailbait! It made you sick just thinking about it.

Even stepping into the cool office didn’t alleviate the feeling of heat stroke on your skin. You decided that you’d take a cold shower before eating. You couldn’t eat much, you had to go back out to the pool and potentially swim after eating. Usually, you’d take forty-five minutes instead of thirty since nobody was watching anyway, but Billy was distracted today and you didn’t want to risk him fucking up because you were being selfish with your break.

You plopped into the wheeling desk chair, sprawling your limbs and taking in the cold air blasting in the room. You let out a satisfied sigh, letting your head fall back and your eyes flutter shut. You could die happy in the air conditioning.

Billy Hargrove was such an ass. You’d never allow yourself to sleep with him. Not that he’d ever want to, you weren’t exactly his type. You were his lab partner that year and you had heard him on more than one occasion telling Tommy about how ‘shrill’ and ‘annoying’ you were. It wasn’t your fault that you weren’t going to sit around and do all the work for the both of you. And it benefited him! His highest grade that year was in fucking science! He thanked you at the end of the semester! Sure, it was a forced and uncomfortable thank you, and you didn’t need to know that it was his highest grade that year, but still! You two should be good! You should be fine! But instead, you were the shrill bitch who tells him what to do at work. God, you didn’t want to be the awful co-worker, the ‘shrill bitch’ that everyone gossiped about and made fun of, but somebody had to take the job seriously! And not seriously like Billy did, who got out his aggression by yelling at kids and threatening to ban them for the most minor infractions, even though the pool didn’t have a banning system period. No, you had to be the boring, mean one who saved lives and got shit done.

Everybody else got to have fun, you just had to work.

You let your head lull towards the window, peaking out at the pool from the half closed blinds. There was a pack of girls around your age surrounding the lifeguard chair, trying to engage Billy in conversation. God, that’s such a safety hazard, how the hell was he supposed to get down quickly in the event of an emergency? He should tell them to move back away from the ladder. Not that he was even paying attention to them; his eyes were on the pool, watching someone swim across the pool with a half smile. He was ignoring the girls, which was expected, but you were glad to see that…wait.

That’s Mrs. Wheeler.

Jesus Christ this guy!

You groaned, pushing yourself up off the chair and heading into the locker rooms, turning on a shower and blasting cold water over yourself. The initial shiver and burn of the freezing water faded fast and soon Billy Hargrove and his stupid thing face were far from your mind. Every one of your senses was heightened by the icy water that was soaking into your skin. You felt utterly refreshed and calm again. He was far from your mind and so was work in general. As your muscles began to slowly unfurl and release tension, your mind led you to the wonderfully comfortable world of the novel you’d left behind.

You were Anne Shirley on that bridge, waiting glumly for her Gilbert to arrive. And there he was-in his silly bloomers and flat cap, white shirt half buttoned and that smarmy look and that stupid mullet and-fuck. Your eyes shot open. God you couldn’t escape him! Billy fucking Hargrove was intruding on your comfortable dreams in rural 1910s Canada. God, it was weird enough that you were fantasizing about rural 1910s Canada, you didn’t dumbass Billy with his ugly ass tattoo creeping in to make it worse.

You turned off the water, checking the numberless clock over the doors leading out into the pool. Your break was just about over anyway. With a heavy sigh, you headed back out into the blinding sun, tightening your ponytail and climbing back into your chair.

You heard a loud blast from the whistle across the pool. “Hey! No running!” Billy barked from across the pool. Most of the people at the pool turned to look at him, except the pudgy kid who’d started running again. The kid didn’t stop this time, his mother gone now, and he barrelled over a little girl. She went down hard. You grabbed the first aid kit off the back of your chair, walking calmly over to the little girl.

“Hi there, are you alright?” you asked, kneeling down next to her. There was blood running down her tiny leg and cheek, two large scraps from the rough deck that made her skin ragged.

The little girl shook her head, sniffling loudly. She was holding back her tears, trying to be brave. It was very cute. “Can I help you?” you asked, offering her a small smile.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers…” the little girl muttered, shaking her head with a quivering lip.

“Well, I’m Y/N, I’m a lifeguard here. What’s your name?”

“Sylvia…” she muttered again, wiping her eyes hard with the back of her tiny hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Sylvia. Can I take a look at those cuts?” you asked. The little girl nodded and you opened the kit. You hadn’t noticed that Billy was looming over you, casting a shadow over you.

“You…okay here?” he asked awkwardly, earning your attention briefly.

“Yeah, we’re okay. You wanna go handle that kid? Ban him or something?” you replied, turning your gaze back to the alcohol swab in hand. “Now, this is gonna sting a little, okay? If it hurts too much you can squeeze my hand.” You offered her your spare hand as you wiped the wound gently.

Billy stood there longer than he should have. He knew he looked weird. He knew he should be tearing that fucking kid a new one. But there you were, smiling at some snot nosed kid, letting her squeeze your hand with her grubby little fingers, putting Barbie Band-Aids on her cuts and checking her head for bumps. You looked so…pretty. You had this look on your face; he’d seen it before when you were reading in class, the world tuned out except for the words on the page. Your eyes crinkled in the corners and lit up bright, your lips curled into a smile that creased your cheeks and scrunched your nose. You pulled a lollipop from the kit, and he knew that you had added those yourself, his didn’t have those. You sent the kid on her way, standing up again and brushing the gravel off your knees.

“You get that kid?” you asked, clicking the kit closed.

Billy swallowed “Nah, he wasn’t worth it.” he said smoothly, trying not to cringe. Since when does he give mercy to kids?

You rolled your eyes “The one time I want you to raise hell, you let a kid slide? You’re losing your touch, Hargrove…” you smirked, walking back to your chair. No faster than you turned away, Billy rushed off to kick that kid’s ass.

He never did what anyone told him. He didn’t know why this time it mattered.

The last hour and a half of your shift surprisingly flew by. And when it was time for Billy’s break, you didn’t even mind staying behind to watch the pool. You pulled the lines across the pool by yourself, preparing for the switch to the adult swim. Mike Wheeler and his grubby friends burst in while you were working.

“The pool area is closed right now. Please wait in the change rooms.” You said, not bothering to look over at the group.

“Is my mom still here?” Mike asked with an annoyed sigh.

“She left about an hour ago.” You replied.

“She said she was gonna drive us home!”

“Is Billy here?” a redheaded girl stepped directly into your view. You recognized her vaguely as Billy’s stepsister, you thought her name was Max but you weren’t sure.

“Yeah, he’s still on the clock for another two hours.”

“Fine, we’ll wait.” She snapped.

You finally looked up at the group, all milling around in their street clothes. You sighed “Okay, you can’t be on the deck in your street shoes. And you can’t be here during adult swim. You’re not adults.” You explained boredly. You turned back towards the office, catching sight of Billy spinning around in the desk chair, banging his head to whatever he was playing through his headphones.

“Follow me.” You said, heading towards the office. You didn’t bother to knock on the door, throwing it open without caution or fear. Not that Billy noticed, he was flailing along to what sounded like, through the muffled sound of his headphones, We Are Not Alone from the Breakfast Club movie. It certainly wasn’t the heavy metal that he associated himself with.

“Hargrove.” You got no response; he did another spin and a dramatic kick. You held back a laugh. He looked so silly. Dare you say…cute? That was something you didn’t think you’d ever say.

“Hargrove!” you cried. He pulled off his headphones quickly, practically jumping out of the chair. You swore there was a light blush on his face, although he could plausibly say it was a sunburn.

“What?!?” He snapped.

“You’re um…you’re stepsister is here…she’s looking for a ride home. What do you want me to tell her?” you asked awkwardly, your hand subconsciously coming to your left arm, rubbing your upper arm awkwardly.

Billy’s scowl dropped away, his face draining of colour “Oh shit um…shit it’s like seven, right?” you nodded awkwardly “Fuck…I gotta get her home…shit. Um, I might be late coming back can you just watch for like ten minutes, I’ll be back I just I gotta-”

You cut him off “I can handle the close for tonight, if you wanna just stay there.” You offered against your better judgement. Usually, you’d never offer to take a close. Closing a pool sucks ass. But…he just looked so utterly freaked out. He looked scared.

“You sure? I can come back, gimme like twenty minutes I can-”

“Nah, I can do two more hours. It’s adult swim, nothing happens anyway.” You replied with a shrug. Billy nodded, rushing out of the room and grabbing the nosy redhead, pushing her out.

He didn’t even say thank you.

Fucking dick.

You rolled your eyes. It wouldn’t be that bad. You finished putting out the lines and took your seat at the furthest end of the pool. As always, the usual old people came in and did their laps. The two hours went by incredibly slow and you wished you’d just offered to drive the brats home. But the hours were great and, luckily, the crowd finished their swim thirty minutes before the pool closed and nobody else came in. You closed off the pool and locked the gates, taking your sweet time to milk the extra minutes out of your shift. You left the pool with damp, clean hair and dried out skin.

You came home to an empty house, your mother promising to be home by ten. There were leftovers in the fridge. You were ready to settle in to a night at home. You slicked your skin in lotion and changed into dry, warm clothes. You piled up your dirty clothes and started a load of swimsuits. You wanted to watch a movie, but you hadn’t gone to the video store before work so all you had were your parent’s crappy recordings of movies from their era, which you had no interest in.

You had an empty house and nothing to do. Then it hit you.

You had a joint in your vent. You cousin Casey finally came in clutch. But you couldn’t smoke it in the house. The smell lingered too long, you’d get caught. You grabbed your keys, your purse, and the joint, scribbling at the bottom of your mother’s note that you’d be back by curfew.

You could hide out anywhere. You always chose the same spot though, out by the quarry where death haunted the weak of heart. The rumour was that the dead body found out there two years prior was actually Will Byers and he’d been replaced by a doppelganger. Either way, the area is supposed to be haunted by the dead little boy found there. You weren’t scared of ghosts which meant that you were always the only person out there. It became your little spot.

The drive there was short and sweet, you’d barely made it through the first song on your driving playlist. You parked close to the water’s edge, turning up your stereo and taking a seat on the hood of your car. You always chose the furthest edge of the quarry, where no one would bother you.

A car pulled up too close to you. You could’ve screamed.

And then you recognized the driver.

“Kill me now…”

Billy stumbled out of the car. His knuckles were bleeding. He had a cut under his eye. He looked…fucking pissed.

“Am-scra, freak.” He snapped, not looking over to see who actually was there.

“You scram, asshole, I was here first.” You snapped back, digging through your purse for a lighter, joint held firmly between your teeth.

Billy didn’t move. He took his seat on the hood of his own car, wrapping gauze tightly around his knuckles, knotting it roughly behind his fingers.

You sighed. You didn’t have a lighter. Hargrove did. You scowled turning to him as he struggled with the wrapping around a Band-Aid, losing it into the quarry.

You pulled one from your bag, holding it out to him “I’ll trade you for a light.” He turned to you with a scowl, looking over the scene. He nodded gruffly, pulling his steel lighter from his back pocket and flicking it open. You leaned over, letting the flame burn the end and start off the joint. You passed him the Band-Aid, which he immediately lost into the dirt.

You pulled another from your bag, letting out a puff from the joint before reaching into your bag. You pulled out your last Band-Aid, jumping off the hood.

“This is my last one. Let me do it.” you replied, pulling open the paper and stepping closer. Billy leaned away defiantly. You sighed, pulling the joint from your lips. “Relax, smoke this, I’m not gonna frisk you or anything.” You said, handing him the joint. He took it without another word, not complaining about free drugs.

You carefully pealed back the Band-Aid, sticking it to the delicate skin of his under eye, covering the cut. You smiled at your work, pulling your hands away from his face quickly. You took the joint back, returning to your seat.

Billy stared at you for a beat too long and you noticed. You caught his eye, raising an eyebrow at him. “What’s your problem?” you asked.

“None of your damn business.” He snapped back angrily, defensively.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes “Geez, chill out man. You were the one staring at me…”

Billy turned away dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. You noticed for the first time that evening that he was still in his work clothes. You averted your gaze quickly, not wanting to get caught.

Billy spoke first. He didn’t have to, but he did. “Why are you so fucking nice to everyone?” he asked, almost whispering.

“What’d you mean?” you asked, keeping your eyes trained on the smooth, still water pooled just a foot from your feet.

“You helped some kid with a scraped knee, you saved the dumb kid who fell in, you helped me twice, you helped Karen Wheeler-” he listed off bitterly.

“Okay, one: helping those kids is literally our job. And helping you…well, you needed the help and watching you try to open a Band-Aid with your messed up hand was kind of pathetic.” You replied with a laugh. Billy rolled his eyes, turning away from you slightly.

“And…I didn’t exactly help Mrs. Wheeler. I needed her to go away so I could yell at you. She could report me and get me fired if she saw me being pissy with her favourite lifeguard.” You added, looking away.

“Karen wouldn’t do that.” He replied, looking over to you again “You gonna bogart that?” he asked, reaching out for the joint.

“Didn’t think I was sharing.” You passed it to him nonetheless.

“You can’t finish it on your own. I’m helping you.” He took a long drag, coughing on the end as the smoke filled his lungs. “This is shit.”

“It’s better than what Tommy buys.” You replied with a shrug.

“Tommy has shit taste.” He passed it back to you.

You took a long drag, finding courage in the cloudy feeling in your brain to ask a question burning in the back of your mind.

“So what the fuck is up with you and Mrs. Wheeler? Are you actually screwing her or is she just making a scene everyday for no reason?”

Billy chuckled “I’m not telling you.”

You made a face “That’s so fucking gross…she’s your stepsister’s friend’s mom, man. She’s got like three kids.”

Billy’s cocky look slipped away “I know, Y/N.”

“And you still want to screw her? Dude, that’s nasty.”

“I never said I wanted to screw her.”

You gasped loudly “Billy, do I need to call the cops?”

“No! Jesus, Y/N…” he groaned, slapping the hood of his car with a frustrated look “Look, I’m not fucking screwing her.”

“Ohhhh….”

“You tell anyone that and I’ll fucking kill you.” He warned, leaning over to get in your face. You hadn’t realized how close you two were until that moment. You’d both subconsciously moved as close as you could to one another, each of your spare legs hanging off the side, close enough to kick each other but far enough to not have to awkwardly touch.

“Got it, dude. Not like anyone would believe me. You’ve proved yourself to be believed on that front.” You muttered, silently puffing away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. He sounded sadder than you expected him to ever sound.

“I mean…everyone in school knows that you’re this…this macho man, de-virginator or some shit,” Billy burst out laughing and you blushed crimson, turning away. “I’m serious! Everyone knows that you get whoever you want.”

“I’ve never gotten you.” He said with a shrug.

“Yeah well I’m a ‘shrill bitch’, remember? Not exactly worth much bragging rights wise.” You countered. Billy didn’t reply, he looked out at the quarry silently.

“Nobody said that.”

“Nobody had to, Hargrove, I hear what you and your friends say. You don’t have to pretend that I’m some prize.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve literally heard you and Tommy laugh about annoying I am, how I’m shrill and shit. Don’t play stupid.”

Billy didn’t reply immediately, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“I don’t think you’re shrill. You’re a bitch sometimes, but you’re not shrill.” He said quietly.

“Thanks?”

“I mean…you’re cool. You’re good at your job and you’re nice to everyone and you’re hot and you’re smart and shit. You’re chill. Fuck Heather and her friends if they say shit.” He said to the quarry instead of you.

You smiled softly “Thanks, Hargrove…you’re not too terrible either.”

Billy chuckled “Thanks…”

You were both silent for a moment, staring out at the lake. Billy spoke first. “If I don’t tell anyone about it, can I kiss you?”

You furrowed your brow “Why would you want to?” you asked incredulously.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he shot back. You didn’t have an answer to that question. You dropped off the hood of your car, walking up in between his knees, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“You tell anyone about this and I’ll tell everyone about you and Wheeler.” You said, unable to hide the little twinge of nerves in your voice.

He smiled cockily “Deal.” He pulled you down to him by your neck, pressing his mouth to your demandingly, pressing himself up against you and wrapping a free hand around your lower back, fingertips inching towards your ass. Every inch of him was made of fire and it was catching every one of your nerves, igniting them. Your fingers dug into his curls and your nails scraped his scalp. You let out a whimper as his teeth dug into your lower lip and you tugged on his curls.

You broke the kiss first, pressing your palms into his chest and taking a deep, slow breath. He smirked up at you and you found yourself smiling back.

“Friends?” he asked cockily, pressing the joint into your half open mouth.

“Sure…” you breathed out, taking a long drag off the joint.

[gh0stiegirlie]

Synopsis: You have been a pro-hero for the past three years, and a damn good one too (although, you don’t think so). When you and Ground Zero are assigned on a stakeout case together to capture a member of the Dark Akumu, which is currently Musutafu's most threatening Villian League, it changes the entire course of your career-- and your life.  

Length: 1.6k words

a/n: YOOOO the bitch is back better than ever after two years, and super into my hero academia. this is going to be a multiple parter series, so I hope this is a great lil pilot!

                                                                                                 pt. 2 -> 

The feeling of civilian eyes analyzing your every move is nothing new; You are a pro-hero, after all. However, the feeling of Ground Zero glaring daggers into you as you enter the sheriff’s office is a new-- and rather unsettling --experience. 

“Welcome, Ether.” Sheriff Chie greets and gestures for you to take a seat in her office’s beaten-down spinny chair. “I have a very special case for you tomorrow night.”

“I’m all ears,” you shift awkwardly in the chair, trying to get comfortable. The number of times you and other heroes have sat in this shitty chair and listened to the Sheriff explain a convoluted plan to capture a villain was innumerable. Although, you guess the number is in the hundreds. At least. 

“We’ve had a lesser-known pro-hero go undercover, and they were able to join the intermediate group of Dark Akumu. They’ve disclosed that during pro-agencies weekly wrap-ups with their heroes this Friday, they will be attacking several meetings. But, they can’t attack without supplies.” she continues pacing around her office, although she has nowhere to go. Her office is an inadequate size for the amount of time and effort she puts into her job, and every hero here knows she deserves a bigger space for her ideas of grandeur to fester-- and a raise in her salary, too. But since pro-heroes are the ones publicly capturing villains and doing the true “labor”, you’re the ones who receive the fame, glory, and money. Police officers no longer receive the credit they deserve, and some even believe they're no longer necessary. But Sheriff Chie is an example of why the police industry is still breathing within the tight confinements pro-heroes wrapped them in; they love representing and protecting the quirkless people of the world, and society needs that. Even if it doesn’t realize it. “Tomorrow night, the Dark Akumu will have their leader's right-hand man, Youkai, collect a shipment from a smaller underground group.” She slams her hands down on his desk with enthusiasm and points at you. “That’s when you and Ground Zero come in.”

You push yourself away from the desk in shock. “Katsuki Bakugou?” You exclaim, spinning around in your chair to face the door. You stare out the small window into the police department. “I haven’t spoken to him since high school…” you trail off, remembering his bitterly cold gaze from a few minutes ago. It looked like he was trying to ignite an explosion inside your intestines. After a few moments of reflecting, you turn to face Sheriff Chie. “Why us?”

“Your powers aid each other well,” she responds simply. “The two of you will stakeout until both parties arrive for the trade. The combination of your compatible powers with the element of surprise,” she grins, “you two will be unstoppable, and capture Youkai in a matter of seconds.”

“It’s a great plan, Chie, really. All your plans are.” you begin, “But I think you’re underestimating our foes here. Yeah, they only have one villain collecting the supplies, but still. This is currently Musutafu’s most threatening villain league. He's not going down without a fight. And by fight, I mean a full-on battle.”

The Sheriff scoffs. “You underestimate yourself, Ether. Ground Zero holds more confidence in you than you do,” she explains with a wink. You turn away once more, so she can’t see the pink blush encompassing your cheeks. 

“You know Bakuguh—uh—Ground Zero and I haven’t spoken since U.A. Even then, we scarcely interacted. Except for a brawl or two.” You twirl a piece of h/c hair that fell out of your high ponytail. “It’s true that our quirks complement each other. So how come we’ve never been paired up before? Why now?” You question. 

Chie simply replies with a shrug. “There’s never been a need for two of the most powerful modern heroes to pair up; Now there’s a demand for that exact role. And you two have been selected to fulfill it.” You shift in your chair uncomfortably and avoid Chie's imploring brown eyes. She puts a hand on your shoulder. “Cmon, Skylar. I understand you have a… difficult past with Ground Zero, but I’m asking you as a protector of people and as your friend to please try and look past that. At least for one night. The city needs you. ” Sheriff Chie pleads, and she’s right. You hang your head in your hands before running one through your hair. Then, you spin around with perfect posture and a humbling smile on your face. You respectfully nod your head at Sheriff Chie.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. You’re right. I’m sure Ground Zero and I are old enough to move on from our past together and instead focus on our future. Thank you.” 

The Sheriff's proud grin is contagious, and you can’t help but smile in satisfaction with her plan. As you are about to leave the office, Chie stops you. “Before you go! I want to talk to you as your friend, not a sheriff.” You walk over to her desk and lean in close. “Hero Ground Zero was also somewhat… displeased, when he heard you were his partner. Just... Try not to fall... deeper, into his bad side. He'll lure you in, but you have to be smarter. And you are.”

“But... does he even have a good side?” You joke, and Chie chuckles.

“I know, right! With every passing second he spent in my office he looked more and more like an angry balloon ready to pop. I think his head just holds tons of hot air that he can only release by yelling at someone or punching something.” 

“It felt like he spent all of high school searching for a reason two do one of those things! Someone could walk by him the “wrong way” and he would get offended.” You laugh, holding tightly onto your aching sides.

These are the moments with Sheriff Chie you cherish; the one when you two aren’t head sheriff and pro-hero, but Chie and Skylar. Normal people, normal friends. 

After laughing over Ground Zero's unnecessarily aggressive attitude towards literally everything to the point of rolling around her modest office and bumping into shelves and knocking down paperwork, you decide it’s time to leave. You hug on the way out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at three pm sharp. I’ll briefly explain the mission again, and you two will be on your way shortly after.” You nod, and as you walk away Chie calls out from her office, “Oh! And we’ll be providing some spicy food!! The least we can do for our favorite heroes.”

You giggle and shake your head, sending a quick wave in Chie's direction as you continue to the exit. Before you leave, you glance at the spot Ground Zero was sitting in earlier. All that remains of the hero is a minor burn from his butt, presumably after growing impatient from sitting down for too long. Surprisingly, you smile at the thought. Ground Zero must not have changed much since U.A. While part of you dreads working alongside that hothead of a hero, another half appears eager to see what he's like as a pro.

It has only been a few years since you graduated with Bakugou and the rest of class 3-A at the age of seventeen. You're only twenty one now, but you feel like you've lived through three lives since high school, not three years. While the school had prepared you well for the fighting villains part of pro-hero life, they hadn’t prepared you for the physical and emotional consequences. As mentioned, you're barely twenty-one, but you're a regular at the doctor and chiropractor. You bare a heavy burden of having to execute everything perfectly all the time; no room for casualties. Because of this stress on saving every person, along with all your brand deals and sponsorships, you hardly maintain a life outside of work. While you love what you do, you miss meeting with friends at a coffee shop in the morning only to shop at the mall until midnight. You miss cuddling up with your Midnight plushie at 10 o’clock and watching superhero documentaries till the crack of dawn. Now, you are the one protecting those friends lounging around in coffee shops and malls, and the hero starring in documentaries. You truly love it all; You love digging your nose deep into Chemistry books and studying chemicals to create new toxins. You love protecting essential workers from the terrors of those who use their quirks for evil, and consequently beating the shit out of those people. But sometimes, you wish you were another bystander.

As a kid, you watched in awe as the heroes fought tirelessly, day and night, to always flawlessly beat the villain. But actually doing that, especially without complaints, is more difficult than you ever comprehended.

You park your Toyota Supra outside one of your perks of being a top ten pro hero. Currently, you live in a 1286112000.00 yen mansion and recently bought a 5358800000.00 yen estate. You were to begin moving next week and considered holding a little gathering at your new home in Tokyo as an excuse to hang out with your pro-hero 3-A classmates.

When you lock the front door, that’s when the isolation consumes you. Vast linoleum halls and long vinyl walls form a repetitive, meandering maze in your home. The only company you have are the halls that are starting to fill with donation boxes. There is one similarity between you and this house you are preparing to abandon; You both are empty on the inside. 

You shuffle your way onto your velvet sofa and turn on the TV, ensuring to avoid the news. While mindless cartoons play in the background, you take out your phone and read every Google result for Ground Zero.