#ALSO she FORCED ME to move across the country and transfer schools when i really did not want (hence why i flunked all of my classes bc i d | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maddiwrites · 3 years

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The Hybrid (Prologue)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: So happy to be back with another series!!! I honestly really missed posting. Unlike Secrets of the Shore, updates will be slower because I don’t have them all written out yet. A couple things I wanted to let you know before you read. I based Y/N’s family off of Gilmore Girls. I thought they were the perfect fit for this story and the show in general and I just love their dynamic. (Including Luke who I renamed Steve for obvious reasons). Chapter 1 will explain more obviously but I wanted to give you guys a little snippet of the characters and relationships. So let me know what y'all think!

Word Count: 3.3k

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. As you know, the Outer Banks is essentially divided into two groups. If we want to be blunt - it’s the rich and the poor. Figure Eight is home to the rich. Aka the Kooks. With houses bigger than necessary with extra rooms that go untouched, boats the size of homes on the Cut - the other side of the island. Most people who live on Figure Eight are your naturally raised assholes. People who don’t know the value of a dollar and take advantage of people who do most of their dirty work that lets them prance around the island with perfectly manicured fingernails. These hard workers are the Pogues. They live on the south side of the island where most Kooks wouldn’t be found dead. They serve fancy meals at the country club for shitty tips, mow lawns, and work their asses off at any other job for minimum wage. The drastic difference in lifestyles tend to cause many spats and arguments between the two communities. Especially between the teenagers who still don’t know how to control their raging emotions or know when to bite back their tongue. For the Kooks, every fight is a fight for dominance where as the Pogues fight for equality - to put the Kooks in their place. Many of these fights happen at summer parties where the two groups clash to find a good time with their friends filled with alcohol, drugs, and good music.

That’s where they find themselves tonight. The infamous Pogues. John B, JJ, Kie, Pope, and now Sarah Cameron. Although born a natural Kook, she’s earned her spot next to the adventurous teens and her boyfriend. Unlike her brother Rafe who basically is the leader of his notorious group. Topper and Kelce are his best friends who follow him blindly.

The Pogues watch them from their spot surrounding the keg. Kie purses her lips in distaste as the boys cat call for the ladies around them. Somehow most of them finding it flattering. Sarah sips on her beer to hide her embarrassment, often wondering how she and her brother grew up to be so different. Pope and John B stay mostly disinterested, only worried if they try to make a pass at an unwilling girl or fire a degrading comment at their short tempered friend. JJ Maybank is known around the island for his trouble making behavior. Usually if he gets in trouble for fights, no one ever asks who the other people were in the scuffle. Because if JJ Maybank is in the fight, he’s the one who started it, right? Wrong. In fact, JJ usually is never the one to start it. He’s good at keeping his head down and only speaking when spoken to when it comes to the Kooks - the only form of advice worth taking from his father. But his short temper is something the Kooks his age loved to take advantage of because they liked getting a rise out of him. It was like an adrenaline rush.

Luckily, tonight both groups were keeping their distance, either only talking to each other or random Tourons that have found their way to the party. This is usually JJ’s favorite part of a boneyard party. Finding his one fish in a sea of many that he can reel in just for the night and never have to worry about seeing them again.

He has his eyes set on a beautiful blonde making her way to the bonfire when all of a sudden Kie’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“What’s she doing here?”

JJ follows her line of vision, spotting you walking down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, pulling your best friend behind you by his wrist. He first notices your smile and how it brightens up your entire face. Then of course his eyes scan down your slim but athletically toned body. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped white T shirt that says UNC across the chest. Who knew someone could look so good without even trying?

Well JJ did. He’s known it for a while.

“Careful. I think you’re drooling,” John B whispers in his best friend’s ear.

JJ pushes him away and mutters, “Shut up. No I’m not.”

But maybe he was.

Y/N Y/L/N is a unique resident of the island. Unlike majority of the island, she doesn’t fall in either Kook or Pogue category. She’s what everyone calls the Hybrid.

People who work hard for what they have but haven’t fallen to be Pogue status. Quite literally living in the middle in a place they call the Crest.

Your story is well versed among the gossipers of the island (which tends to be just about everybody). And mainly that’s because of who your grandparents are. Claude and Doris Y/L/N. Two of the riches people on the island, living in a three story house on the beach. Many people fear them, others envy them. Most feel both. Even Ward Cameron walks on egg shells around them, which is quite often, considering he works for Claude. They’re the kind of people who have never heard of Barefoot wine or Walmart. They keep their noses up and turn a blind eye to the suffering communities around them. Thirty four years ago, Doris gave birth to a daughter that couldn’t be more opposite than them. Lorelai Y/L/N was a wild child. A rule breaker. She snuck out at nights, dated boys her parents would never approve of, dabbled in breaking the law here and there. It didn’t matter how many times her parents disciplined her. She always managed to make her parents’ life a living hell.

No one was surprised when word got passed around that Lorelai had gotten pregnant at eighteen. Although it was with another Kook, she brought shame upon her family name when she refused to get an abortion, even when her mom tried dragging her by her hair.

Lorelai risked everything by running away from her parents’ home in the middle of a windy night. With only one suitcase, the baby daddy out of the picture, and less than a grand in her pocket, she managed to make a life for herself on the South side of the island. She worked two jobs, found an affordable apartment for cheap rent, and managed to save some money before her babies were born.

Yes, babies. As in more than one. Five months after running away from home, she gave birth to twin girls and they instantly became her entire life. With the help of her best friend Steve, who she met one month after being on her own, meeting him at his automotive shop when she very much literally rolled her junky car into the garage, she raised you and your sister on the Cut. The two of you are her greatest accomplishment. Every now and then, she mentally throws up a middle finger to everybody who doubted her, proud of who the two of you have become.

Right before you turned ten, your mom took a business risk and opened her own Cafe. The Bikini Beans cafe, very popular amongst both Kooks and Pogues. The business did so well that she was able to move the three of you out of your shitty apartment into a beautiful one story home with three bedrooms in between the Cut and Figure Eight, aka the Crest, the summer going into your freshman year.

You actually used to be best friends with John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward. It was easier being friends with them than the girls, finding more joy in sports and rough housing than makeup and gossip.

Doing the same summer that you moved, your mom pulled you out of Kildare County High and placed you in Outer Banks Private Academy. Aka Kook Academy. Around this time, your grandparents had also become more involved in your life, and you wondered if they had somehow bribed your mom into forcing you to transfer schools. You tried asking her during one of your many fights that started with you begging her to keep you at Kildare County High, but she quickly shut you down and told you to be grateful. That was ironic coming from the woman who ran away from the people giving her an expensive high school career.

You had no choice but to do what your grandparents wanted and attend Kook Academy. Making friends was a lot harder there than it was in Kildare County High. You managed to make one friend in your freshman year. Andre Cortez. Due to an incident a couple years back, you built thick walls and Andre was the only one able to break them down. You were grateful for your friendship, but hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with the Pogues.

When you transferred schools, you lost touch with the Pogues slowly. Your life became busy with school and playing dress up for your grandparents and the boys were starting to work. Eventually all contact was cut and ever since, you’ve felt a void in your heart.

“Look,” You tell Andre. “I told you I would be your wing woman and I’m not backing down from what could possibly be the most important role in my life.”

You didn’t notice the Pogues or any of the stares around you. It’s true you’re not much of a party girl. I mean, you’ll go out here and there, have a drink or two, but you felt more comfortable at places where you weren’t surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers.

“He’s probably not even here,” Andre says. He’s trying to look nonchalant but you notice the way his eyes dance from face to face of the people around him.

“He told you he was going to be here, right?” You ask him with one brow raised. Andre nods. “Then, we’ll find him.”

Sarah and Kie never made any effort to talk to you at school, but to be fair, neither have you. You’ve heard mixed reviews, some people call them spoiled brats, ungrateful...some even go as far as calling them ‘The Cut Sluts.’ Of course you never take any of those things to heart. You can’t judge a book but it's cover. Plus, they’re friends with your old best friends. They can’t be that bad for John B and JJ and Pope to be hanging out with them, right?

“You think she'll come over here?” Kie asks. No one’s ever said it out loud, but her friends wonder if deep down, Kie was a little jealous of you. Because you were their first real girl friend. You were the first girl they ever let in and opened their heart too. That was a tough pill for Kie to swallow when she originally thought she was that girl. Of course the boys don’t like you any more than Kie and vice versa. But sometimes Kie wishes she could have grown up with the boys the same way you had.

“Probably not. Unless she’s drinking,” Pope says and motions towards the keg they’re near.

“I have an idea,” John B says and fills up a red solo cup. He hands it to JJ. “Why don’t you go offer her a cup.”

JJ snags the cup out of John B’s hand and glares at him. “Fuck off, dude.”

“Do you guys ever see her around at school?” Pope asks the girls.

Sarah shrugs. “Not really. She doesn’t really get a long with my old group of friends.”

Kie rolls her eyes. “No one gets along with your old group of friends.”

Sarah playfully shoves Kie by the shoulder and they laugh.

“I heard she turned down Raymond Easterling a couple weeks ago and he didn’t take it very well,” Pope says, remembering the words he heard from the kids in his class roaming the school hallways.

Raymond goes to Kildcare County High with the Pogues. He’s known to be a trouble maker and a class clown. He works with JJ at the country club. The kid can make JJ laugh sometimes, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he likes him all that much. He can be an arrogant asshole with an ego bigger than it should be.

“She turns down everybody,” Sarah says. “Some people at my school call her ‘The Heart Sucker’ because she can pull people in with the snap of her fingers and break their heart just as quickly.”

Something stirred in the pit of JJ’s stomach.

“Hey! Where you going?” John B calls out to JJ who’s making his way deeper into the sea of people on the beach.

“Taking advantage of a good boneyard party, my friend,” JJ calls back and slugs the rest of his beer. Looking left and right, he searches for the blonde he had eyes on earlier. Because right now, he needed a distraction.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The party starts to die down a little after midnight. Some people leave to find another party, some are passed out in the back of their cars, and others had already found what they were looking for - someone to leave with.

The boneyard party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. You had found a couple of kids from your school who were nice enough to make small talk with you while Andre left to find a guy named Devon, a Touron he’s been talking to who’s renting for the entire summer.

Now you’re waiting for Andre to come back so the two of you can walk home. You find comfort under a slanted palm tree towards the back of the beach, scrolling through random apps on your phone to pass the time.

“Y/N?” You look up from you phone and smile when you see your former best friend inching closer to you, squinting in the dark to see if it’s really you.

“Maybank? What are you still doing here?” You stand up and pat the sand off your hands on you thighs.

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you look at him. He’s beautiful. Lucious blonde hair, perfectly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes. You always knew JJ was going to grow up to be gorgeous. He was cute when he was younger. At least you always thought so.

“I was just leaving, but I thought I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were all right.” He knows it’s not like you to stay this late at a party, especially all by yourself. When he first saw you sitting there, he didn’t know if he should say something. Mostly due to nerves of seeing you again. But the other Pogues had already left and he didn’t trust anyone else at the party to be near you alone late at night. It didn’t matter if you were sober or not.

“Aw. Was JJ Maybank worried about me?” You tease. Talking to him felt easy. As if you never stopped being friends. A few years ago, you and JJ had the best banter. Despite constantly bickering back and forth, John B always swore the two of you would get married one day. The two of you just always clicked like a natural connection. And even now, when only seeing each other every now and then for a few minutes at a time, it felt normal. You smirk when JJ rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding. Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my friend to come back from his little rendezvous,” You say.

JJ nods. “Did you have a good time? I feel like I never you see at these things.”

“Yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing. But Andre was nervous to meet this guy he’s been talking to for a little while so I came for moral support.”

“Looks like he didn’t need much of the support.”

You shrug. “It’s better that way, anyway. I don’t mind waiting for him. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you have a good time tonight? I hear your quite the ladies’ man at these things.”

“Come on, Sparky. You know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Your face lights up at the mention of your old nickname. You use to always be busting out the seams with energy. On days where the boys just wanted to chill and play video games, you would drag them to the park for a game of kick ball. Or when they wanted to sleep in after a long week, you showed up at 8 am to drag them out of bed to catch the morning waves. So one day JJ started calling you Sparky, and it stuck with the rest of your little gang. You always pretended to hate it, but secretly you loved it.

“Oh I don’t believe everything I hear. I do, however, believe what I see. And your arm around that tall blonde in the little black dress looked quite convincing.”

You first saw JJ at the party when he was making his way to the pretty girl by the water. Your teeth involuntarily clenched and there was a twisted feeling in your stomach you couldn’t shake whenever you looked at them.

In that instant, JJ felt grateful for the dark sky. He felt the rush of heat rise up his neck to his cheeks before he could stop it. He knew the motivation to see that girl was because of you. He just wished you never saw it. But he didn’t know why.

“I walked her home. She wasn’t my type,” JJ plays it off.

“I didn’t realize you had a type,” You giggle, but a small part felt relieved to hear this. “So what is it? Your type?”

Hybrids with a Pogue attitude, bright smile, beautiful eyes, and a mouth that could make any sailor turn around, JJ thought.

“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.”

“Why? So you can transform into my ideal girl?” He teases.

Now you’re the one thankful for the dark sky. “In your dreams, Maybank. But so far, I do have the perfect wing-woman track record, so if you needed help -”

“I don’t think I need any help in that department. Thank you very much.”

You throw your hands up in fake surrender. “Ooo. Touchy subject.”

JJ rolls his eyes at the same time your phone pings with a text message. You pull it out of your shorts pocket and open the text from Andre, telling you to leave without him because he’s gonna stay out late with Devon and won’t know what time he’s going to be done.

“Everything all right?” JJ says, watching you read the message.

You lock your phone and stuff it in your back pocket again. “Like I said. Perfect wing-woman track record.”

“That was Andre?”

“Yeah. He’s most likely not coming home tonight.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“At least one of us is,” You joke.

JJ’s grin slightly falters but you don’t catch it. You have no idea how much he wishes the two of you could be equally as lucky. Together.

“Well, I should probably go,” You say and bend down to grab your flip flops.

“Let me walk you home,” JJ offers.

“Oh no. It’s okay -”

“You’re cute. It’s wasn’t up for debate. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

You scoff lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just humor me.”

You roll your eyes and smirk but choose not to argue. In fact, you’re excited to spend more time with JJ. It’s been so long.

“Fine.”

“And here I thought you might’ve grown out of your stubborn phase by now.”

You shove him playfully by the shoulder. “Shut up!”

And just like that, it felt like old times.

#jj fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx imagine #obx fic #jj maybank one shot

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stellar-imagines · 3 years

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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝stupid rumour.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki ]

「 Bakugou who has a crush on you ― the transfer student who has trouble speaking and writing Japanese but can understand the language He helps you on your language skills and develops a crush on you. Then you heard rumours of Bakugou liking Uraraka and you started become distant.」

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

"I thought I told how to do this one so many times and how did you manage to fuck it up?" Bakugou groaned, looking through your midterm paper.

"I'm really trying my best but kanji is just no good for me alright?" you grumbled, snatching the paper from his hands. It was quite embarrassing to be struggling with Japanese literature and other subjects.

Sure you were born and raised in Japan but due to some business issues, your family had to move to [Preferred Country]. And to be honest, you spent most of your life in [Preferred Country] instead of Japan so you weren't really familiar with kanji at all. It wasn't only kanji, its just the Japanese language in general. You didn't have much problems talking but when it comes to reading and writing, it was a problem so when it comes to studying, you were in big trouble. You have been whining about failing your tests and Bakugou — who happened to be your personal tutor. He got tired of your whining and decided to help you in hopes of making you shut up.

You can't really tell why Bakugou decided to help you in the first place. The two of you never got along that well to begin with. The ash blonde was very competitive by nature and when you showed promise during training, he seemed to have made you his target somehow. Bakugou never actually cared about the people in the class but you were different somehow. He was always easy to rile up and you enjoy messing around with him sometimes. It was almost safe to say that you spend most of your time with him.

Since the day you transferred into UA, you struggled with your studies. Kanji now appeared to be an alien language to you and during tests, you struggled to understand the question. Bakugou picks up the scattered paper on your desk one by one, skimming through your mistakes and assessing your performance. You didn’t do that bad and only failed Japanese History and Literature. Your scores were really low and it barely hit the passing mark.

Sometimes you like to think that you and Bakugou had something special but you're just a transfer student. Bakugou and Uraraka probably have a relationship that you could never understand. He respects Uraraka's strength after that one incident during the Sports Festival tournament. You stared at the two who happened to be queueing for lunch, having a conversation that you can't hear from where you were sitting. After a while, you took your eyes off them and sipped your drink.

"Do you think he likes her, [First Name]?"

"I'm sorry what?" you blinked, turning your attention towards Hagakure who sat across you.

"I'm talking about Ochaco-chan and Bakugou-kun!" the invisible girl gushed, her sleeves waving about to show her excitement. You blinked a couple of times, unable to process. Judging from her tone, you assumed that she thought you understood what was going on between the two. However, that wasn't the case, you yourself are clueless.

"But [First Name]-chan and Bakugou-kun are close in their own way too! Something going on between the two of you?" Ashido who was sitting next to you decided to direct the topic towards you instead.

"Nothing is going on between us. In fact, I think at some point he's gonna stop teaching me because of how I always disturb him." you muttered with a chuckle.

"Typical Bakugou. You can still join our studying sessions if you want. My offer still stands." Yaoyorozu smiled gently. You shook your head in response and gave the same answer as you did when the black haired girl proposed the idea to you.

Originally, it was Aizawa who forced Bakugou to tutor you in the first place. You had failed your tests miserably at first and your homeroom teacher seemed to notice that you struggled with communication sometimes. And Aizawa had this crazy idea to assign Bakugou to tutor you. He had hoped that the ash blonde will grow to become more social and cooperative. Honestly, you thought that it was such a bad idea at first. Bakugou was very rough with his words, impatient and is short tempered. You've tried to be nice and dismiss his behavior but at some point you just found him very amusing. You weren't sure if the two of you actually got along well or not.

However, you like to think that you both are actually on good terms. Even though he gets frustrated whenever you struggle to solve a question, he would leave you alone and give you pointers. He also likes to reward you with small treats like your favorite snacks and drinks. Bakugou also pays attention to your behavior a lot. Since the two of you are always studying everyday after school, there will be times where you will be so worn out from training. If that's the case, Bakugou will go easier on you.

"I've heard from someone that Bakugou has feelings for her since first year." Hagakure whispered as she saw Uraraka approach the table. The conversation was cut short when your brown haired friend arrived at the table with her pork katsu don. She looked between everyone, wondering why you all grew silent all of a sudden.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asked, taking a seat next to you. Acting completely natural like a smartass you were, you decided to just continue eating your lunch as if you were never a part of the conversation to begin with.

"We were talking about how there's this rumour of Bakugou having a crush on you since first year." Ashido chirped. Uraraka let out a noise akin to surprise before waving her hands defensively.

"Wh-Wha!? That's not possible!" she said quickly before glancing over at the ash blonde and then towards you.

"Why not?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W-Well, that's because....." the girl seemed a bit nervous and you see her glancing at Bakugou a couple of times.

You rested your elbow on the table, letting out a knowing hum. It didn't take long for you to get the hint that Uraraka might actually reciprocate his feelings. A small frown was etched on your face as you looked away from the girl seated next to you. Bakugou would never just suddenly stop to stare at someone, especially knowing that he can be caught staring. It was just as you had suspected earlier. 'To think that I thought there's something special between me and Bakugou.' you thought to yourself, keeping yourself out of the conversation while the girls teased Uraraka for getting so defensive.

The next day, Bakugou was packing his things and thinking ahead. He could already hear you grumbling something to yourself as you cleared your own desk, preparing to head back. There was a homework assigned to everyone and you will — for sure — be begging him to help you with it, even though its due in 2 weeks and you have plenty of time. Just as he was about to call out your name, Kaminari and Kirishima approached his desk.

“Hey Bakugou! Some of us are planning to go watch a movie after school, want to join?" Kirishima asked. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at this, looking slightly annoyed.

"Why would I wanna go with you extras?" the ash blonde grumbled.

"Because it will be fun! Everyone is coming right?" Kaminari turned towards the group of girls that has gathered around your desk.

"Yeah, most of us are!" Ashido chirped happily.

"Come on Bakugou-kun! I think its a great opportunity for you and [First Name]-chan to take a break once in a while. And besides, she's been looking forward to this movie." Uraraka told the ash blonde.

Bakugou glanced over at you, seeing that you were somewhat looking forward to relax today. It was Friday, and probably the best day to take a break from all that studying. The ash blonde had been pushing you a bit too hard and maybe this is his chance. Bakugou reluctantly agreed but not before telling them to not chose some stupid movie. He shook his head, telling himself that he's not doing this just because he thinks that you deserve a break and that he likes you or anything. Just as he finished packing, he looked over towards you, seeing Hagakure approach your table with a skip.

"[First Name], let's go watch a movie! Even Bakugou is joining! Ochaco-chan just invited him." she exclaimed, motioning to the ash blonde who glared back at her. Your excitement died down a bit, glancing between your invisible friend and Bakugou.

"Um, I think I will pass! I think I'm gonna start with that homework we're given, it's gonna take me a while to finish that after all." you said, quickly gathering your items.

Seeing you leave the class quickly made him confused. Uraraka muttered about how weird it was for you to skip out on going out, especially knowing that you were all going to go watch a movie that you have been looking forward to for so long. Bakugou decided that it was not worth his time to think too much into it and leave you be. He's not your babysitter and it doesn't matter to him what you do anyways. All while he was watching movie, he was thinking about how you should've been here watching the movie.

Just when he thought your behavior on that day was only you not being your normal self ― you did something that he had never expected before. It happened on the day after the movies. He had already expected you to be knocking onto his door and begging him to explain to you about all the homeworks that were given and about that Science quiz on Monday. Sure you came to his room with a handful of your notes and textbooks ― like usual. Your hair was slightly messy from hurrying to meet up with him at the same time ― like usual. It was nothing out of the ordinary, something you both were accustomed to. You always came late, looking like you just rolled off the bed and went straight here.

It was the same old routine until he heard those words.

"Sorry Bakugou! I'm going to be studying with Momo-chan today, she's offered to partner up for the Japanese History project." you announced.

"Hah?" was all Bakugou could only respond with. He was confused. Normally, you would be begging him to become your partner because you're so used to him. What has changed in you?

"Also.....she offered to help me with my studies so you don't have to waste your time on me anymore. Thanks, Bakugou. I won't be bothering you starting from today onwards." you bowed and quickly left him behind.

'Whatever, I don't care.' was what Bakugou said to himself.

There was so much that he wanted to tell you. But he made no effort to call out to you as you hurriedly made a run for it to the elevator. He shouldn't be bothered by this so much. After all, he was only teaching you because Aizawa told him to. The ash blonde told himself that over and over but he couldn't help but longingly stare at your back as you ran away from him as if he was the plague. 'There's no turning back on this. I made up my mind to not be a burden anymore!’ you told yourself. From that point on, you made it a goal to not interact with Bakugou at all.

He was already confused to why you decided to have him to stop tutoring you in the first place. Bakugou didn't seem to bothered by it that much but it did make a lot of people ask him about what happened between the two of you. The two of you were normally seen together most of time and to see you both on your own is just weird. You were now spending time with the girls most of the time and instead of Bakugou, you had moved on to asking other people to assist you with homework.

He wasn't going to lie but the thought of you running to others and asking for help didn't sit well with him.

Today after school, you were seen in the common area doing your homework together with Yaoyorozu. Bakugou had went down from his room to get himself a drink. Now that he doesn't have to teach you anymore, he was much more free. He could finish his homework much faster than usual. Bakugou watched as you grinned happily after being praised for getting some work done. On his way to the kitchen, he passed by Kirishima who looked like he was taking a break from his own studying.

"Hey, did you two have an argument or something?" Kirishima asked Bakugou who had opened the fridge to get his drink.

"Hah? What you on about?"

"I'm talking about [First Name]. All of a sudden you stopped partnering with her and tutoring her." the red haired mentioned as he looked over at you.

"Why should I care what she does anyway? She's not my girlfriend!" he said, glancing at you in hopes that you did not hear him at all. Lucky for him, you were too immersed in the conversation that you were having with your partner to even care about what was going on in the kitchen.

"But don't you both like each other or something?"

"Who said that!?"

"It's pretty obvious, bro."

Bakugou really doesn't want to admit it but he really likes you ― a bit too much that its starting to get obvious. He was now starting to get worried that you might catch on to his feelings. He looked at you for a moment, watching as you worked on a few tough questions, eyes narrowed at the book in front of you. It was a habit that he learned after being with you for so long and he never said it out loud but you look very cute like that. After a while, Midoriya and Uraraka joined you and Yaoyorozu. Bakugou's eyes narrowed at Midoriya who was helping you with some of the questions.

That should've been him! ― was what he told himself.

Little did he know, you heard the commotion in the kitchen. Though whatever Kirishima and Bakugou was talking about was unknown to you, you could feel them looking at you. Shaking your head in response, you reminded yourself that you vowed to not get in Bakugou's way anymore. When Midoriya and Uraraka joined your study session, you decided to just focus on your homework now. You can’t lie about the fact that you missed Bakugou’s company. Even though he was always impatient and complaining about how slow you are, he never once left you on your own. Not to mention, he was surprisingly a great teacher.

The Bakusquad ― Bakugou never really liked and approval of that name ― were hanging out in the common area. Bakugou was here against his will, dragged by Kirishima and Kaminari who wanted to play some games together. At the dining table, a few students from Class 1-A were gathered around sharing some treats while the Bakusquad played some games by the couch. Bakugou was seated on one end of the two seater sofa, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and rethinking his life choices.

"There was this rumour that you like Uraraka or something." Kirishima mused while he looked through his phone.

"What?" Kaminari suddenly perked up, drawing his attention away from the video game.

"Hah?" Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

”I’m talking about Bakubro here!” the red head male spoke a bit louder to gain the other boys’ attention.

”Oh now that you mention it, I remember! There was this rumour going on about Bakugou liking Uraraka or something.” Sero piped up, not drawing his eyes away from the game he was playing against Kaminari.

“I thought Bakugou was dating [Last Name] already.” Kaminari pointed out.

”I know right?! I know they both like each other but are afraid to admit it.” Kirishima added in with a triumphant smile.

“No one fucking said that.” Bakugou glared at the boys who began to give him the looks.

”Come on, you were so overprotective of her at that one time when we studied in the library together!” Kirishima started, now his posture upright and eyes filled with determination.

”Oh right! When there were these random people hitting on her, you sure told them off!” Kaminari added to Kirishima’s anecdote.

”But there seems to be some tension between the two of you right now.” the blonde hummed, pausing the game to turn his attention to the conversation.

It took him that conversation to actually realize how much your ignorance has affected him. Not only did you decide not to ask for his help anymore, but you made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. You avoided sitting with him during lunch, not partnering up with him during hero training and clearly turning down invites from your friends whenever you hear that Bakugou will be joining as well. He had confronted you in front of everyone, demanding you to meet up with him.

And of course, it was hard to run away when he asked you right in front of everyone. The only solution Bakugou came up to get you back and clear this up was to confess his undying love to you.

You were really nervous to talk to him and for some reason, you had a feeling that you were going to have your heart broken. Bakugou, by all means, isn't oblivious and notices a lot of things around you. So it was no surprise that he realized that something is up with you and that you are ignoring him. He probably has figured out the reason behind you avoiding him already. And you couldn't help but think your reason was really dumb.

“Look, I have no idea what you’re telling but let me just say this.” you started it first, as you don’t wanna regret not saying anything any sooner.

”But I want to tell you that I don’t want to get in your way anymore. And I approve if you want to date Ochaco-chan." you were fiddling with your fingers. So you were aware of this rumour but never made the move to ask Bakugou himself if this was true and decided to just blindly believe in some stupid rumour that some random extra had spread. Bakugou almost wanted to strangle whoever did this because it gave you stupid ideas.

"You are a fucking idiot for believing in some extra's words instead of asking me. Why the hell did you avoid me instead of confront me about the rumours, hah?" the ash blonde was trying his best to remain calm and patient.

"Because.....I was afraid that those rumours are true." you admitted.

"And I'm here to tell you that its not fucking true. Round Face is madly in love with fucking Deku and she's not even trying to hide it. Everyone fucking knows that." he told you.

"So you don't like her?" you asked.

"Stop doubting my words." he flicked your forehead. You shut your eyes and rubbed at the sore spot, muttering a few words about how unnecessary that forehead flick was. Seeing how you looked very unconvinced with his words, his hands squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to make eye contact with him.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I am going to say this once and I am not going to repeat this. Because I have no fucking idea why you are so blind to all of this. You can be dumb at lot of things and frankly, I'm glad that you are." he sighed and you let out a gasp, offended by his words.

"Hey, I'm not dumb―" he cuts you off by squeezing your cheeks to the point where your words were all muffled.

"You're so helpless in your studies without me, its like you can't live without me. But it makes me feel special because you never ask someone else for help and always look for me. Even though you're shit at your studies, you have a really freaking strong quirk. You can be so fucking annoying and drive me insane sometimes but goddamn, how can you be so fucking adorable at the same time?" Bakugou started to get a bit frustrated now and he almost couldn't believe the words he was saying right now.

You reached to grab his hands and pried them off your face to allow yourself to speak.

"I am not going to listen to you do this any further―"

Once again, Bakugou cuts you off by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You were startled but after a brief seconds, you started to kiss him back. It's what you imagined it to be like, sweet yet fiery at the same time. You melt into the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek while he cards his hand through your hair. You were the one to pull away first, taking a deep breath and you held your gaze. Bakugou looks oddly calm but you could see the red tint on your cheeks that was starting to reach the tips of his ears.

"You're red."

"Oh shut up, you're ruining the fucking mood."

Total: 3593 words Published: 07.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Not angsty at all actually. At least in my opinion. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! We decided to let you readers decide where you're from Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are closed! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

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Transfer Student | Draco x Reader

Prompt: After transferring from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to Hogwarts, all of Hogwarts’ eyes is on the new girl. An American Gryffindor? Everyone wants to be your friend, steal a glance from you, or ask you on a date. Can Draco resist the hype or will he end up all for the new girl?

Warnings: None! Just some fluff and longing looks from bitch boy Malfoy

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: My requests box is very full oh my LORD. I’m trying to churn them out as consistency as possible, so if I skip a day with no imagines, it’s mostly for me to take a breather and catch up on my actual work for my job and school.

America was home, no matter where you were in the world. You grew up an American and lived your life with that culture and their customs. Going to school at Ilvermorny was a treat. Tucked away in the mountains in Massachusetts, it was your happy place, full of other kids from across America, studying magic. But things changed drastically when your father was offered a position at the Ministry of Magic overseas in London. Your parents were thrilled, a prestigious job in a new country; your father accepted the position, no question. You on the other hand were more nervous than anything. Moving meant new school, new friends, new start. Not to mention, if you moved within the country, you would still attend Ilvermorny. But now that you were moving overseas, it really meant a new start with a whole different school with a whole different body of students.

Your mother was insistent that you would be just fine starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Mom,” you insist, “I’m an American among a sea of people from the UK. I’m going to be a fish out of water. They’ll know the moment I open up my mouth!”

But there was no changing their minds. You were moving to London whether you liked it or not. So you had to say goodbye to all of your friends at Ilvermorny. Although you expressed your anxieties about moving and switching schools, the rest of your friends were jealous of your move. Saying how London was a beautiful city and they were so jealous of all the culture and events happening. It did seem exciting, you always wanted to visit Europe, but not like this.

Soon enough, you were on a plane to London from America, your things packed up and ready to ship you off to Hogwarts. When you arrived, your heart raced with excitement and nerves. London was a little grey and stormy, but it was still beautiful. People most melodically and dressed neatly. Men in suits, carrying around briefcases, heads tilted down as they ran to work. Women dressed cleanly and beautifully, walking to work, in and out of shoppes. Your mother gave your hand a squeeze as your father insisted you took the Tube to your new home.

London was very different from your hometown. Much more hustle and bustle with busy people, but its people were much kinder than Americans. Strangers offered you small smiles as you looked at your surroundings. As you arrived to your new home, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was different. Even the oven. You couldn’t think about how long it was going to take to get you adjusted to this life. You drag your suitcases into your room, flipping open the latches. “Don’t bother unpacking, honey,” your mom calls. “You leave for Hogwarts tomorrow, remember?”

Your stomach sinks. You couldn’t even get used to your new home because tomorrow you had to get used to your new life at Hogwarts.

The next morning, you arrived at the train station, confused as ever. Your mom and dad walked with you through the station, interrogating you on what to tell the Professors when they asked for your information at arrival. “My name is (Y/N), I’m the transfer student from Ilvermorny, I’m going to be a junior,” you start.

“You’re a sixth year student,” your father corrects. You look at him, confused. “The education system here is different, sweetie. You’ll technically be going into year six at Hogwarts.”

Sighing, you know that this was going to take some getting used to.

----

You watched your parents wave goodbye to you, your mother with tears in her eyes. Your heart drops, not wanting to leave your parents to go off to somewhere that was completely foreign to you. As the view of your parents fades, you walk through the train, looking for an empty stall to sit. People sat with groups of friends, laughing, picking up right where they left off. Why couldn’t you have been a first year student? This would have made things so much easier. As a sixth year, everyone had friend groups and you would have to wiggle your way into one.

Finally, you find an empty car and plop yourself down on the seat, laying your head back. Here’s to the start of a miserable year, you think to yourself. You play with the charm bracelet on your wrist that your mother gave to you when you started school at Ilvermorny. The bracelet had a Thunderbird charm on it, the mascot of your house at Ilvermorny, and the same house as you parents. You were a proud Thunderbird, but now you had to be sorted into a new house with a new breed of people. You only hoped that whichever house you were sorted into had the same type of people as Thunderbird did.

As you mindlessly play with the charms on your bracelet, the car that you sat in’s doors slid open. “Are you alone?” a blonde haired girl asks you, noticing you amongst the chaos of the cars around you. “Would you like some company?”

“That would be nice, actually,” you offer her a thankful smile.

The blonde haired girl sits down in the booth across from you, pushing all of her thick hair to one shoulder. “Your accent,” she notices, her eyes widening. “It’s American,” her dainty English accent points out as you blush in embarrassment. “It’s lovely.” You slightly smile and blush, silently thanking her. “Are you a transfer student from Ilvermorny?”

You nod, “Yeah, actually. My name is (Y/N), by the way. I’m a jun-I mean a sixth year student.”

“I’m Luna,” she shakes your hand politely. “I also a sixth year. Look! You’ve only been here for five minutes and you’ve already made a friend in your year!” Your heart swell at the word friend. At least you at Luna to tag along with. The two of you talk for a while, you telling her about America and why your family moved to England, confiding in her about your nervousness about the new school and making new friends. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making friends, (Y/N). Everyone at Hogwarts is very friendly. Besides, once you get sorted into your house you’ll make a ton of friends that way!” Your stomach churns. “Do you reckon what house you’ll be sorted into?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “Nope. Back at Ilvermorny I was a Thunderbird. But I don’t know if that means I’ll get sorted into a specific house at Hogwarts.” You reach into your backpack and pull out a pack of Fruit Roll Ups. “Want one?” you open the box to her as she gives you a hesitant look. “It’s good I promise,” you giggle. “If you don’t like it, you can force me to eat a gross British snack,” you tempt as she laughs before taking one from the box.

The two of you sit in the car, peeling open your Fruit Roll Ups, munching on the sticky snack. As you laugh at Luna getting it stuck in her teeth, another person comes to the car door, sliding open, making you yelp out scared, them surprising you. “What’s that?” the red headed boy asks, referring to the snack you munch on. You just look at him, bewildered that he just burst through, no introduction, no hello, no nothing. “Oh, hi Luna,” he smiles as Luna waves. The red headed boy looks at you. “You’re new,” he states as if you didn’t know. “I’m Ron Weasley,” he smiles at you warmly, making every bad thought about him leave your mind.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you reply before tossing the ginger a Fruit Roll Up. He catches it, eyes wide with excitement as he tears it open.

Ron sits next to Luna as he peels his Roll Up. “Your accent. You’re an American,” he points out as he looks to Luna who smiles sweetly.

You tease, “Really? I didn’t notice.” This makes Ron let out a chuckle before eating his Fruit Roll Up in two bites. “I’m a transfer from Ilvermorny.”

“Ron! Where did you go?” a voice calls from the hall. Suddenly, a girl with brown hair, wrapped in a stripped cardigan appears with a worried look on her face. It instantly relaxes when she sees Ron sitting next to Luna and you, wrappers in his hand from the Fruit Roll Up. “Ron, you can’t just interrupt two people’s conversation and then eat their snacks.”

Ron puts his hands up in defense. “She offered it to me!”

The girl rolls her eyes at his antics before walking into your car. The booth was getting awfully full very quickly. “I’m sorry about him. He has the mental capacity of a teaspoon,” she says, making Ron let out an offended hey! “I’m Hermione Granger. You are?”

You shake her extended hand with a smile. “(Y/N), I’m a transfer student fr-”

“Ilvermorny! I heard we were getting an American, but I didn’t believe it! Wow! It’s so nice to meet you,” she exclaims, scooting closer next to you. “Are you excited to be here? Which house do you think you’ll be sorted into? From what I’ve heard about you, you were a Thunderbird, correct? I reckon you’ll be a Gryffindor by the looks of it,” Hermione fires away. You were little taken aback by how forward she was, but you had to admit it was sweet.

All of your fears of not being able to make any friends slowly faded away.

----

It has been a week since you arrived at Hogwarts. As Hermione had predicted, you were sorted into Gryffindor, making her cheer out in delight. “Yay! More girls!” she hugged you tight when you entered the Gryffindor common room. “They can be much,” she refers to Harry and Ron behind her with a little giggle.

You had to say so far, you adjusted well to Hogwarts. You did miss your friends back home, but whenever you started to miss them, you found Hermione or Luna and they would always cheer you up and make you feel right back at home. Your classes were interesting, but hard at Hogwarts. Your Professors were all brilliant, some more intimidating than others. Regardless, you worked hard for your grades, doing study groups with Hermione, quizzing yourself with Luna, and spending countless nights in the library.

However, much to your surprise, you were the talk of the halls at Hogwarts. Whenever you were in the hallways, you would feel people’s eyes on you as you walked beside Luna, whispers throwing your name around. Your anxiety grew. What did people think of you? Did they think you were strange? Did they hate that an American was in the school?

It was actually quite the opposite. People were fascinated by you and how charismatic you were. You were kind to everyone, offering people smiles, making conversation in the Great Hall during meals, offering help with studying. You were the it girl of Hogwarts.

That was a new concept for you since you always blended in at Ilvermorny. Maybe it was time for a change. You were getting invited to parties, asked to hang out on weekends in Hogsmeade, and not to mention, you were a few people’s crushes. “Hi (Y/N),” Seamus waved at you with a shy smile.

“Hey, Seamus,” you smile back, brightly, unaware of his blossoming crush on you. His cheeks turned beet red as you wiggled your fingers back at him. Hermione laughs next to you as a bunch of Gryffindor boys in your year watch you walk down the hall, you tossing your hair over your shoulder. “What’s so funny, Granger?” you ask, pushing her shoulder lightly. “Is it so strange that I say hi to everyone in the halls?”

She just shakes her head. “Are you that blind?” she laughs. “(Y/N), nearly every boy in our year fancies you.” You furrow your brows. Hermione groans, knowing you didn’t understand her slang. “The boys all think you’re cute. They’ve got crushes on you.”

Rolling your eyes is disbelief, you enter your History of Magic class. “Yeah, right, Hermione. The day everyone has a crush on me is the day pigs fly,” you plop down in your chair, grabbing your book out of your satchel. “Besides, I’m sure it’s just the new girl crush. It’ll be over within the next week, I’m sure of it.”

Hermione looks at you knowingly. “(Y/N), you’ve been here for two months now.” You just ignore her comment and continue getting ready to take notes for class. “There’s no denying that you are the popular girl,” she teases you as you fake gag. “I’m serious. I dare you to flirt with anyone in here and see their reaction,” she whispers to you.

You look around the room to see who would be the person most likely to shoot you down if you flirted with them. Two desks over was Blaise Zabini sat next to Draco Malfoy. You smirked and nudged Hermione as if to say watch this. “Blaise?” you ask, his head shooting up to look at you. “I think I forgot my quill. Do you have one I could borrow?” you bat your eyes at him.

A cheeky grin comes across his face as he hands you the one in his hand. “Forgetful today?” he smirks as you giggle. “You can borrow my quill any day,” he winks at you as Hermione fake gags, making Zabini rolls his eyes.

“Why don’t you ask Granger for one next time? The mudblood is always prepared,” Draco speaks from behind Zabini.

Anger rises in your chest as Malfoy laughs about your best friend. “Why don’t you just keep your fat trap shut and cry to daddy about how much you hate this school, Malfoy? No one wants to hear it out of you, least of all me,” you spit before turning away to do your work. Hermione smiles as you, squeezing your hand. “See? Malfoy doesn’t have a crush on me!” you tell her, making her laugh.

Meanwhile, Draco glares at Zabini. “Don’t tell me you fancy the American girl too.” Zabini keeps his mouth shut, knowing what’s best for him. “What is everyone’s obsession with her? She’s American, not from outer space.”

Blaise shakes his head. “Come on, Malfoy. She’s proper fit, isn’t she? Not to mention, she’s quite cheeky and has good banter.”

Draco just slaps Blaise upside the head. “Oh, please,” he huffs. “There’s plenty of girls like that in this school. She’s not the only one.”

Throughout class Draco thinks to himself about what the entirety of Hogwarts’ student body saw in you. He ignored the lecture going on in the front of the classroom and dreamily watched you during class. You sat there, biting down on your lower lip gently in concentration, scribbling down notes as your nose scrunched up when a question came to mind. He could see the wheels churning in your head when you asked a question and then the lightbulb flick on when it was answered and it made sense. You let a small dance play on your lips when you answered a question correctly faster than Hermione. You hair flopped on head perfect as you pushed strands back as they fell. Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and playfulness like a child. Draco’s heart thumped a little louder when you let out a giggle when the professor made an awful joke. His heart nearly stopped when you looked over at him and caught his gaze, your cheeks taking a rosy hue as you looked away shyly. Draco didn’t look away for a second. He wanted you to know he was observing you. Shit, he silently thought as he felt his heart rate pick up when you sent a cheeky wink his way. He was caught.

You left class that day, a little pep in your step. You didn’t think much about people having a crush on you, but something about Draco Malfoy staring at you during class made you giggly. “What are you on about?” Hermione pokes your side. “I know you aren’t happy about that lecture, so spill.”

“Nothing,” you smile as you walk down the hall. “Can’t I just be happy?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. She had a feeling she knew what was happen, but rather than embarrass you about it, she kept to herself. “Alright,” she sing-songs.

------

The more time passed the more Draco found himself thinking about you and itching to get to class just so he could tune the professor out at steal longing glances at you. Sometimes you would catch him as he sent a little wink your way as you blushed. Sometimes he would catch you staring at him which gave him way too much satisfaction of knowing you liked him just as much as he liked you.

You had no problem talking to boys, but Draco was different. You didn’t talk to him much because you were too scared you were going to embarrass yourself in front of him.

But Draco on the other hand found any excuse to walk right up to you in the halls and strike up conversation. He would see you walk down the hall, his eyes zeroing in on, dismissing his friend group as he made his way up to you. He didn’t care who you were with whether it was Luna or Hermione. Draco just slid himself next to you with a sly, “Where are you off to, American girl?”

You did not try to stop the blush from appearing on your cheeks. “What’s it to you, Malfoy?” you tease as he laughs.

“I’d walk you there if you let me,” he suggested as you glanced to Luna or Hermione as they would fall behind to walk to class with Ron or Harry. “Ah, alone at last,” he’d tease as your friend walked away, earning a teasingly slap from you. “Don’t worry, I won’t try and pull anything on you.”

As you sat in another class of History of Magic, you doodled in your notebook. When the professor turned his back to write on the chalkboard, you see a small origami dove fly over to your desk. Curiosity gets the best of you as you peel it open to see a little note scribbled on the inside.

American Girl,

I need to ask you a very important question.

You look to your left to see Draco staring straight ahead at the board, but his eyes look towards you with a sneaky smile on his lips. You shake your head, a grin teasing your lips as you write back, And what would that be, Mr. Malfoy?

When the professor turns back around, you send the note back to him. You watch him scribble for a while, your curiosity eating away inside of you. Finally, he folds the note back up and send it your way quickly.

The note lands back on your desk as you ravenously open it, dying to know what the question was.

You. Me. Hogsmeade. This Saturday.

Your heart flutters and you want to giggle, but you hide your smile and scribble back coyly, That’s not a question, Malfoy.

Again, you send it back his way, watching him open it as you bite your lip to contain your smile as you pretend to pay attention to the class. From your peripheral vision, you watch him scribble back. The note lands back on your desk and you let it sit there for a second, making Malfoy sweat. You let a solid ten seconds pass before looking at the note, pretending to be shocked to see it on your desk, before peeling it open slowly as Malfoy lightly laughs, watching you do so.

So it that a yes?

You smile and write out as slowly as you possibly can. It’s a yes.

The note makes its way back to Draco’s desk as he catches it from the air, ripping it open. He smiles impossibly wider and laughs a “yes,” a little too loud for your professor to hear.

“Mr. Malfoy? Would you like to share something with the class?” your Professor asks.

Draco realizes that everyone’s eyes on him, including you as a deep shade of pink rises to your cheeks. Draco sends you a wink before standing up from his seat, your heart beating fast. What is he doing? “Actually, yes,” he retorts. “I’ve got a date with the new girl,” he declares. Girls all turn to you before immediately whispering to those around them as some boys groan and others cheer Malfoy on.

You just sit there, blushing like a fool. Hermione grabs your arm. “No way,” she speaks.

“You better believe it,” you whisper, eyes not leaving Draco’s as Zabini high fives him. Saturday could not come quicker.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 17 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she can come get her boyfriend. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)   Content Warning: Discussions of drugs, death/dying, suicide, overdose; Alcohol, addiction, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, Daddy Kink, fights, PTSD, hospital talk, drunk smut w/ blanket consent Word Count: 12.5k

MASTERLIST

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When I opened the front door, I realized that I had returned to an empty home. I wasn’t sure which was weirder; the realization that the house was empty, or the fact that I was referring to her apartment as my home. It certainly had started to feel that way.

It never stopped being a shock that I would find a home in someone so quickly and with such little self-awareness. I'd certainly never suspected that the house we’d be in would also be shared with several other people, all of whom were significantly younger than me and shared almost no similarities with me beyond our love for (y/n).

And even if it wasn’t the weirder of the two realizations, the fact that she wasn’t there was definitely the more troubling one. I tried to gather at least a little evidence before I called her; I wasn’t exactly excited about being blindsided again. Judging by the red solo cups that were scattered in the kitchen, I had an idea of how her friends had spent the night. The fact that no one was here led me to another conclusion that I desperately hoped was inaccurate.

Her phone rang four times before she picked up, which was strange in itself. When she did pick up, she sounded like I expected her to. Tired. Groggy.

“Hello?”

“Hey little girl, where are you?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the fumbling of my keys in my pocket, or any other sign of just how anxious I’d gotten in the last three minutes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spencer, I forgot I was supposed to see you today.” She mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic if not a little confused.

“You… forgot?” I repeated, quickly making my way over to the calendar hung on a bulletin board outside the kitchen, noting the nothingness over both the current and following week.

“Yeah, I guess I got carried away with school.”

She was lying. I couldn’t be for sure about what, but it was obvious. If she was really having that much trouble with classes, she would have told me. We’d gotten past the whole insecurity over me thinking she was stupid thing a long time ago, and she knew I would always let her learn it on her own if she didn’t want my help.

“... What are you not telling me?” I tried to make the words playful, although my hand was now nervously patting the side of my hip at an alarming rate.

“Nothing! I just got distracted. I’m... a little busy today so we should just meet up again next weekend.”

“A week?” I knew she was probably getting tired of me parroting her words, but that just seemed like a ludicrous amount of time. Usually, we went barely a day or two without seeing each other when I was in the city, cherishing the time together when I wasn't called away to attend to crimes halfway across the country.

“What’s going on?” My voice was quickly falling into that register that warned her I was about to start profiling her, whether I wanted to or not. And unfortunately, she chose the worst possible reaction to that warning, further tipping me off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.

“Spencer, stop being weird.”

But I wasn’t. I knew that I could be weird; it’s kind of my thing. If you looked up weird in the dictionary, you wouldn’t find my name, but you’d definitely find a description that perfectly characterized my personality.

“You’re the one being weird. Turn on your camera.”

“I can’t. It’s dark in here.” She shot back her answer so quickly, I knew that she had already anticipated the request.

“Then move.” I ordered more than suggested. She understandably didn’t take kindly to my reaction, but I know she also knew why I was doing it. The excuses she was giving weren’t even well thought out.

“What is this? An interrogation?” She scoffed, “Do you think I’m cheating on you with barely dissolved stitches in my intestines?”

I took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table still sticky with leftover sugary liquor and turned the phone onto speaker. “Turn it on.” This time, my voice broke with the order. As much as that didn’t make it sound authoritative, it did make her feel guilty.

As the screen lit up, it all made sense in the worst possible way. She was forcing a fake smile, her other hand resting against her face in a failed attempt to draw attention away from the the mottled skin of her left eye.

“I’m not cheating on you. Happy?” The words were sharp on her tongue, an anger in her features paired well with the understanding that I wasn’t wrong to be worried. I honestly think that was what bothered her the most – that she wanted it to be nothing, for me to be overreacting, but knew that it was a little more serious that she let on.

“I’m definitely not happy. What happened?” I was already at the door by the time the sentence ended... She shut off her camera just as quickly, hearing the commotion from my side. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

She sighed, and I could see it clearly despite the fact that she wasn’t on my screen anymore. “I don’t want you to come here. Spencer, I’m fine.”

I might have believed her. I might have honestly given her the benefit of the doubt – let her lie to me a little, and just accept that a black eye wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Eventually, she would tell me how she got it, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.

But it became very obvious very quickly that it was not just a black eye.

“Ms. (Y/l/n)?” A third voice announced in the background, accompanied by the distinct sound of an alarm sounding in the distance.

“... Are you in a hospital?!”

“For fucks sake. I hate dating a profiler.” She grumbled, implicitly admitting that my conclusion was right. She wouldn’t let me have another word, speedily slurring her goodbye. “I have to go, Spencer. I’ll call you later. Love you!”

—————————————————

Anyone who has spent a long time in inpatient knows that nosy nurses are both the best and worst kind of people to be assigned to your stay. They were the best because they always had the best gossip and would spend their precious little free time sharing stories about their lives that were always more entertaining than whatever poorly budgeted gameshow was on the old, staticky television.

They were the worst because one wrong move meant that you were the subject of gossip. And boy, were they good at getting it out of you.

“Trouble in paradise?” She sweetly hummed as she pushed my bed down the hall.

I wanted to tell her that there was trouble, and that it was through no fault of my own. If the other people in the hospital didn’t have the audacity to be sick at the same time that I needed a CT scan, then I wouldn’t have even still been here. I could have been back at home, where… well, I guess Spencer would have figured it out either way.

“Yeah, I guess.” I sadly admitted, playing with the string of my gown. “He’s just a worrywart.”

The woman had that glimmer in her eye, the kind that came from years of seeing the same stories over and over again. Although, I had a hard time believing she’d ever been in this exact scenario, I guess they were all kind of the same after a while, semantics aside.

“Well, that makes sense considering your current state.” It was more of a reprimand than anything else, and I audibly groaned to try and get her to stop there. She didn’t, though, having spent enough time with me to know I needed to hear it. “You were very lucky, you know. If things had been even just a little bit different…”

Couldn’t you say that about everything? If things had been even just a little bit different, I never would have met Spencer in the first place. We never would have fallen in love or fought or done any of it at all.

I didn’t like thinking about that. I didn’t like even considering a life without Spencer. No matter how much pain I’d been through, or what traumatic memories were dug up, they were worth it.

That’s what she wanted me to realize, and she had succeeded. Suddenly, as we turned into the room, I was overcome with guilt at the way I’d ended my conversation with him.

The nurse knew it, too, because as she transferred me onto the scanner, she smiled. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. If he woke up next to your hospital bed last time, I understand why he’d be scared.”

Chewing on my lips, I thought about the last time I was in a hospital. I thought about how Spencer had curled his giant lanky body onto the bed and barely slept for 2 weeks. I could see the way his eyes got more sunken by the day, but never stopped shining with relief. I could hear him chewing on ice because he didn’t want to leave to grab food until after I’d woken up, and the cold would distract him from just how hungry he was.

“He must love you an awful lot to be that worried.”

I hated when they did that; when they read my mind and said exactly what I was thinking.

“Yeah, I know.” I tried to smile. It was hard with the stabbing pain in my stomach and the aching in the entire left side of my face, but I managed. It was just one of those things where if I thought of Spencer, my body had to react. It was as natural as breathing.

Which, speaking of…

“Take a deep breath in.” The technician alerted me from the speaker.

The high pitched whines of the CT scanner weren’t as obnoxious as the MRI machine. I was silently grateful that they were still too scared to use the giant magnet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be stuck in a confined space, listening to loud banging that sounded too much like gun shots for my comfort.

Even just the thought made me nauseous. I felt like a baby, to have such a strong reaction to something so stupid. I’d been in an MRI before. I was a in a hospital. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, and I knew that.

But even now, in a machine that made virtually no noise and barely covered half my body, I wasn’t able to hold in a breath. Each time I tried, it felt like I was choking on Spencer’s lap again. The stinging in my stomach felt so much stronger, even though I knew it was healed.

The world felt like it was closing in on me, and every second that passed felt like days. I couldn’t even trust myself to guess how long it took for them to get images that should have taken no longer than 5 minutes.

I felt like such a burden. Like I was in their way. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was a little kid, thinking that she knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.

I wanted Spencer.

That was the only thing I could think, and although it should have been comforting, it just left me feeling empty. The thought of him wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. The hands of the nurses trying to calm me down didn’t help, either. They felt wrong. They felt cold.

I just wanted Spencer. I wanted him to be there to hold my hand and distract me from my own thoughts. I wanted him to replace them with other things, like he'd promised me. I wanted to make new memories far away from here.

But I couldn’t. I was an idiot and I’d gotten myself back in the hospital, and he wasn’t here because I told him I didn’t want him to be. Why had I told him that? There was no reason that made any sense.

Once we finally did get out of the damn radiology department, I could still only barely function. The ride back to my room was much quieter, and the nurse didn’t meddle anymore. Gossip was only fun when it didn’t hurt like this.

Again, I couldn’t trust myself to guess how long I’d been in the CT scanner, but as we crossed back into my room, an overwhelming sensation of relief washed over me when I saw his satchel in the seat beside my bed. I hated the knowledge that I’d wasted 45 minutes of the technician’s time, but I was just so fucking happy that he had actually come.

Being alone in my room wasn’t a big deal anymore, because I knew it was only temporary. So as soon as I could, I sat up and waited patiently for my favorite mop of curly brown hair to peek around the corner.

He didn’t disappoint. He rarely did.

“Hey little girl.”

All the tension melted from my muscles, my head finally resting against the pillow with a dopey smile on my face. “Spencer.” I sighed, holding my hand out to him to usher him closer.

He gladly took the invitation, taking wide steps so he could be with me sooner.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I grumbled, flicking him on the arm while I locked our hands together. “But I’m glad you are.”

It was obvious from the way he let out a deep breath that he was also relieved to see that I wasn’t angry at him for coming. However, that’s also where his relief stopped. Because he’d seen me an hour prior and knew that I hadn't been crying then. But now, on top of the black eye, he saw the red rimming my sclera.

Taking my hand into both of his, he pressed a hard kiss against the back of it. Without looking up, he muttered into the skin a sad plea.

“Talk to me.”

“About what?” I asked, pulling back on my hand so he would stop with the shameless display of romance in such an awful place.

“Whatever’s going on.” He paused, but was clearly unhappy with the open ended question, and just as quickly specified, “What happened last night?

Unfortunately, I still wasn’t in the giving mood, even when it was information, and even if the person begging me for it was the boyfriend that I’d just cried for in the CT Scanner. If anything, that almost made it worse.

I hated feeling like this. Vulnerable.

“Nothing.”

Spencer was getting fed up, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from fighting with him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to take care of me and ask him to hold me while I cried on his shoulder about nothing at all, but I couldn’t. He would do it in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t ask him for anything.

I couldn’t need anything without feeling too horribly guilty.

“Please don’t lie to me.” He was begging again, looking up at me with those impossibly warm amber eyes. He smiled when he saw the way my lips curled at the sight of him, unable to be angry for too long.

“Am I not allowed to have any stories for myself?” I joked, reaching forward to poke his face. Instead of moving away to avoid my hand, he leaned into the touch.

“You can. I just...”

“I know. You’re worried.” I responded with an exasperated sigh, rolling my head back. I could still feel him watching me, though, with a precarious smile, happy to see my spirits relatively high while also being deeply unhappy about the circumstances.

Wanting to see that full, confident smile again, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure that whatever he’d come up with in his head was much more sinister than what had actually happened.

“Fine. Stop looking at me like that.” I mumbled, gesturing to the childlike pout and laughing when he sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to follow my direction. I was glad he was still in a joking mood, because I had a feeling it would disappear as soon as I started talking.

I took a deep breath, looking up and away before I began my explanation of the stupidest night.

“I went out for drinks with my friends–”

“Drinks?!”

It hadn’t even been five seconds and he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t blame him, but it was so freaking annoying. This was exactly why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact he could get in serious trouble.

“I didn’t have any! Geez. Chill out.” I yelled back, chuckling a little bit at the conflicting looks of terror and relief. Because while he obviously believed that I didn’t drink any myself, it gave ugly context to the nightmarish guesses his mind had concocted.

“And everything was fine. We were on our way home. But then some asshole started messing with my friend. And she was way too drunk and started crying.” I was groaning internally the whole time, thinking about all the different ways this whole situation could have been avoided. Honestly, I don’t know why she had decided to try and square up with a cat caller when she knew damn well that she would start crying the second he raised his voice.

Which, of course, he had.

“So, I told the guy to fuck off. And he did not like it.”

There was a powerful rage boiling under the surface of Spencer’s skin, which was only betrayed by his clenched jaw and the sheets scrunched under his hand. “Did they arrest him?” He said, trying to calm the trembling in his voice. He wasn’t angry at me for being a victim, even if he was probably a little annoyed that I went out without telling him.

Not like he was even in the state, anyway.

“I didn’t press charges.”

He took a deep breath, clearly about to tell me that I was stupid for not holding him accountable. That I could’ve gotten hurt and he would’ve gotten away with it. That I could’ve died if he’d hurt me the wrong way.

I didn’t want to hear it.

“Stop. I didn’t want to go to court, and I’m fine. I didn’t even need invasive surgery again.”

Spencer was still angry but trying to settle himself down before he spoke. He could hardly even look at me, his hand leaving the bed to run through his hair and shake his keys in his pockets.

I wanted to tell him that the tension of silence was worse than if he’d just raised his voice at me, but I couldn’t even gather the energy to do that. My body and mind seemed resigned to their current state; they’d just given up.

“(Y/n)...” He started, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the use of my name. They didn’t retreat, especially not when he dragged a chair over to my bedside, sitting down and placing a gentle hand over mine again.

“Are you okay?”

It was so sincere. So pure, so unforgivably kind. My hand that had felt paralyzed seconds earlier twitched under his. “I just told you.” I shrugged, fighting the urge to pull my arm away again. I wanted him here. I wanted him to touch me.

So why did it hurt? Why did everything hurt?

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His voice broke, and I saw the way he was holding back tears with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He was biting back so many things he didn’t want me to know.

But again, I was too tired to fight it. So instead, I said nothing.

“It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re hurting.” He continued, urging me to give him anything to work with. “How can I make it better?”

He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t I let him help?

“I’m fine. Nothing even happened to me.” My throat tried to reject the words, my brain screaming at me that they were fundamentally untrue. But my heart hurt, pounding louder in my chest to tell me that the logic was wrong. Because I was a big girl, and I shouldn’t be scared by things that already happened.

I’m safe, right? I don’t need to be scared, right?

Spencer could see the panic on my face because I couldn’t even have hid it if I'd wanted to. And my brain was telling me to not to. It told me that I needed to talk to him, to let him listen.

“That’s not true. You’ve been through a lot.” He bargained, trying to locate that little voice in my head with his offerings. He wanted to pull that small part of me out and force it to talk so that we might finally be able to start to move on.

“You go through worse every day.”

‘It’s common for patients suffering from PTSD to minimize their suffering or compare it to others. It’s a completely normal response, but I want you to try to resist belittling your own feelings. They’re yours, and no one else’s. Okay, sweetheart?’

The voice was so clear in my head, my body jerked in response. I looked around the room, looking for any sign of the man who’d told me them first. But he wasn’t here; he hadn’t been here for some time.

“Do you know how many profilers I’ve seen leave in my time at the bureau?” Spencer distracted me from the thought. He probably figured my flashbacks were more sinister than what they actually were. As upsetting as they had once been, hearing my dad’s voice in my head was usually oddly soothing.

“No.” I answered blankly, trying to pay all attention to the man who was still here.

“Four. And I’ve considered it myself.” There was a soft chuckle to hide the guilt in the admission.

I didn’t know why he felt bad for it; his job was so ridiculously difficult. On top of constantly having to rearrange his life on account of the various inextinguishable evils in the world, he had to face those evils every day and try to figure out their inner workings in order to thwart them. The only time I'd ever done that, I'd killed all three of them. Not the best track record.

“The first one, she... she reminds me a lot of you.” The soft twinkling in his eyes, much like emotional music in the movies, alerted me that a backstory was coming. Based on the extent of just how nostalgic he was coming, I guessed that whatever he was about to say was deeply important to him.

However, I was fragile enough as it was, and I didn’t need to add jealousy to my current emotional repertoire. “Is this another JJ origin story? Cause I don’t think I can handle it.”

He laughed, shaking his head at the frustrated pout that formed on my face. “No,” He said quietly, taking a pregnant pause to formulate the story. “Her name was Elle.”

The story he told was woven well, although I expected no less. He told it passionately and with absolute sincerity. He told me about the woman who was one of the first people he'd bonded with on the team. The playful relationship he described was painted so vividly in my imagination.

I wanted to meet her. But by the end of the story, it was obvious that it wasn’t an option. He didn’t say anything about it, but from the far off look I could guess that he hadn’t seen her since that last day.

“She was like a sister to me, and to see her fall apart and not be able to do anything to help her... it was one of the worst feelings in the world.”

And I understood then, why he was worried about me the way he was. He was projecting his previous experience on me, but things were different with me. At least, that’s what I told myself. Realistically I should have been reminding myself that she'd had the training and resources to overcome her obstacles, whereas I was basically still a stupid kid. The prospect of facing the reality was too difficult though; I just shrugged it off.

“Well, I already killed the people who did this to me.” I chuckled.

Spencer did not appreciate my humor. There was an even stronger concern that flashed over his features, worried by my flippancy over the death of three human beings.

Fuck, I should feel worse about it than I do, shouldn’t I? But if I thought about it, then it hurt so badly. If I had to pick one, I would pick apathy every time. I would choose the emptiness before the ocean of remorse.

“I’m not worried about them.”

I had drifted away from him again, and the sentence forced me to look at him.

‘I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.’

I’d said that before. Those were my words.

I pulled my hand back from Spencer, rubbing my forehead with both hands before wincing at the sharp pain around my eye socket. It took me a minute to focus on the sentence and dive deeper into its implications. But once I remembered why it instilled such a visceral reaction, I nearly gagged on the words.

“Wait, you think I’m going to kill myself?”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly responded in the most defensive manner possible. If that was his attempt to calm me down, it did not work. It only pissed me off even more.

Because there was only one reason why he would think I was going to kill myself. I hadn’t given him any reason to believe that was a risk. Yeah, sure, I was being reckless and impulsive, but I was a teenager!

“Why would you think that?” I demanded an answer, and he was immediately hesitant to provide one. It was all the evidence I needed to reach my conclusion. “Don’t lie to me, Spencer Reid. You asked Hotch, didn’t you?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair now that it was obvious, I wasn’t going to want him to touch me. “Yeah, I did.”

“You told me you wouldn’t, Spencer! You promised!” I ground the words out between my teeth, hoping he understood just how much I was holding back my volume.

He looked over at the screen monitoring my heart, noting the way the spikes appeared at an exponentially faster rate. “I know.” He whispered with an evident guilt.

“What did he tell you?” I hated the way my voice shrank with my shoulders, my body insisting that I assume to the smallest position I could. Because as much as I hated that Spencer had asked when he told me he wouldn’t, I was desperate for the information.

I’d always wanted to see the files, to hear the story as they knew it. I wanted to know what happened, and this was probably the closest I’d ever come to that, unless that whole Ouija board thing is real.

“Probably the same stuff that you already know.” He knew he was disappointing me. He shouldn’t have felt as bad about that as he did, but I’d take the implicit apology for what it was.

“Tell me anyway.”

Spencer should have been delighted to have the opportunity to talk at me for such a long time, but I also understood why he wasn’t. They weren’t the best topics of conversation, your ex-best friend and your girlfriend’s dead father. But he was a trooper and a skilled conversationalist, despite people not being able to understand that.

“He told me that there were several missions your father was a part of that ended controversially. That… he reported several violations that were never followed through on.”

The words so easily unlocked memories I had tightly and resolutely locked away, it was unsettling. I could hear my parents arguing about the philosophy of blame and responsibility. My dad always arguing that he couldn’t stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. My mom reminding him that he couldn’t save everyone.

‘We also get to see a lot of good.’ Spencer had said on our first not-a-date.

‘Yeah, but which do you see more of?’ I’d asked, and he’d avoided the question. I remembered seeing the question dance across his vision before he shut it out. He'd wondered why I was so confident in my conclusions.

“And the last mission…”

He didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“I saw the report.”

My breath was knocked from my lungs by an invisible fist to my damaged gut. I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart that was at risk of setting off the damn machine next to me. “What did it say?” I whispered, clutching onto the sheets and my gown, hoping it would be enough to keep me grounded.

“Killed in action.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” I barked, my brows furrowing regardless of just how badly it hurt to contort my face so badly. “He didn’t– H-He wasn’t–“

“I know.” Spencer responded, a note of pity in his voice that made my face twitch in annoyance.

I turned to him with the same snarl, years of repressed anger resurfacing and wreaking even more havoc on my already destroyed life. “Do you? Do you know?”

“I mean, I can’t ever know for sure but… You weren’t the only one who felt that he...” He couldn’t say the word suicide, and for once, I was grateful. “It seems like all of his team had the same concerns.”

He was trying so hard to calm me down, to placate my fears and rage. He was sympathizing the best he could, but the truth was he would never be able to understand just how fucked up it was. He hadn't been there when it was happening, so the only thing he could do was try to slap a band-aid on a well-settled scar and hope that my not being able to see it made it hurt less.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered the two words cautiously, his heartbreak clear in his eyes. He had nothing to apologize for, but there he was, doing it anyway.

“For what?”

“That you’ll never have your answer.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but his answer took me by surprise. Of all the explanations I’d heard after an unnecessary platitudinous apology, I’d never heard that. And even worse, I’d never heard it in such a broken way, sounding for all the world like he believed he'd failed tremendously.

“I’m sorry that... that I couldn’t find it for you.”

I couldn’t stand the sight, and my hand found his cheek like it did so often, returning home to find that it was just a bit more stubbly than I remembered it. “It’s not your job, Spencer. We’re not one of your cases.” I assured him, running my thumb over the rough skin and remembering that he’d only just gotten home from exactly that: a case.

He did so much for me every day, but in the past few months he’d had to do so much more. And as much as I tried not to, I took him for granted so often. It was never as obvious to me as it was in that moment, when a tear slid down his cheek at the tenderness of my touch. He always expected anger and pain. I didn’t want him to feel that way with me.

“But thank you for trying. I appreciate you.” I tried to throw my soul into the words as they formed on my tongue, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, too.” He sighed into the small embrace, leaning his weight more heavily into my hand. Still holding back, he grimaced at the words he shared. “If I’m going to be honest, I looked something else up myself. Not on any FBI database just... old school research”

I wanted to act surprised, but it was the least shocking thing I’d heard in a while. So instead I just stared at him, with the closest I could come to boredom while still being interested in what he had to say.

“Yeah? What’d you find?” Finally settling into the inevitable resignation, I moved my hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair. It was so soft despite not having been washed for a few days. I could tell he hadn’t slept much. I wondered why he'd bothered digging into my past in the precious little free time he had.

But then he said it, reminding me of the pain of the cemetery and the events that both preceded and followed it.

“Trent Loughton.”

My fingers stopped in their exploration of his curls for a second, but eventually continued. “I see.” I hummed, trying not to push the conversation any further than he wanted to take it. As emotional as the topic was for me, it must have been harder for him. After all, he was the one who shared the nasty habit with Trent.

“I-I saw how he died... and I think I can fill in the rest myself.”

“Mrs. Loughton did give a lot of clues.” I laughed, mostly to stop myself from crying. That woman didn’t deserve any more of my tears. It was because of her that I’d spent years trying to convince myself that Trent’s death wasn’t my fault. Deep down, a part of me still believed her.

But honestly, it wasn’t my opinion that really mattered to me. It was Spencer’s. If he thought I was a failure, or that it was my fault for what happened, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to move past it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to move past it.

“The drugs he overdosed on... they weren’t yours.”

Relief washed over me, but my mind told me not to get too comfortable, yet. “No, they weren’t.” My body had such a strange reaction to the words being said without an argument. I didn’t need to convince Spencer; he already knew. He not only believed me – he had come to the conclusion himself.

“So why did you say they were?”

It was such an easy answer, I knew he had to know it already. His hesitance to come to conclusions on my behalf, while appreciated, wasn’t necessary in this situation. “Pretty little girl with no record and a batshit war hero dad stood a better chance in the criminal justice system. I didn’t ask my dad to protect me, but he did.”

Spencer clearly sympathized with my father more so than me in that moment, which made my heart flutter in a remarkably inappropriate manner. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that those damn psychologists were right – We really do sometimes pick men that remind us of our fathers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Spencer said under his breath, and I wondered which one he was even talking about. It honestly could have applied to my whole life. He would have meant it each time, too. Because to him I couldn’t do anything wrong. I tried to take solace in that, but it honestly caused another voice to creep into the back of my mind.

I’d never be as good as he saw me. I’d never be worthy of his love.

Shoving those anxieties away again, I nodded in solemn recognition of the years I spent working to come to that same conclusion. “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.”

My hand finally fell away from his face, although he grabbed my wrist to stop it from going too far. There was another hesitancy in his body language. His face turned down and his leg bouncing so gently I almost missed it.

“Is he the one you were talking about? The one you loved?”

Ah, nothing like a subtle hint of jealousy to boost a girl’s ego. I chuckled at the sound, swaying a bit in place to let him suffer a millisecond longer. “No. Not exactly.”

But then I genuinely couldn’t figure out how to say it. How could I describe what we had shared, when I'd spent so long trying to forget it? Had I loved him? Probably. No, I'd definitely loved him, just not in the way Spencer was thinking. Not like I loved Spencer.

“It was like, he always liked me, and I always thought we’d end up together because that’s how it happens in the movies, right? I was supposed to fall in love with him.” I ranted, trying to move my hands that were currently wrapped up in Spencer’s. “But I didn’t, and then he was gone and...”

We both stopped, his eyes trailing after me with questions he didn’t voice yet. He wanted me to finish before he decided whether or not they were worth it. I wanted to explain to him that they weren’t. As important as Trent was to me, he was gone.

“It’s fine. I’m sure he would be glad I found someone who makes me happy.” I was confident in that, at least. Because as I stared into those big hazel eyes, forcing themselves to stay open just to listen to me talk about my life, I was glad, too. “Even if that someone snoops too much for his own good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There were many reasons, most of which I didn’t want to go into. But the way he was looking at me shattered my heart into a million pieces, and I knew that if I lied to him now, it would only make it harder to put those parts back together.

He just wanted to help. I knew I should let him help.

“I didn’t want to think about it.” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I didn’t want to consider all the similarities. I didn’t want you to think I was just looking for a man to replace the ones I’ve lost.”

I couldn’t tell when I started to cry, but it was even more exhausting and painful than normal. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to accept Spencer’s offer when he stood up, wrapping his arms around me just tightly enough that it wouldn’t hurt.

“I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I whined, the comforting scent of his cologne filling my lungs and reminding me of all the beautiful moments we’d shared so far. We had so many more to go.

“You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay.” He said, reading my mind like he always did.

“I know.” I started to laugh, but this time it wasn’t held back by secrets. “You’d think a girl could lose you by getting in a bar fight an hour away and going to an unnamed hospital but nooo...”

He laughed too, although his was much more reserved. Spoilsport.

Spencer’s arms tightened around me briefly, holding me closer to him before he backed away, his hands finding home on my cheeks. I anticipated a kiss, which was usually what happened when he held me like that. But he didn’t kiss me, instead giving me a gentle instruction.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

My eyes, bruised and dry, still opened at his command.

“No jokes. No lies.” He asked, clearly enunciating each word. “Should I be worried about you?”

All I could hear was the sound of my heart and the humming of the machines. I was brought back to the CT scanner, the way it felt to be choking on air. Flashes of other men I loved were racing through my mind. I couldn’t save them, I remembered, before my eyes landed back on Spencer.

My stomach twisted at the memory of a wooden box, a check, and suddenly all I smelled was the pine of the forest.

“(Y/n)?” He asked again, although I saw he’d already received half of the answer.

“No. I’m fine.”

The most terrifying part about it was that I believed what I said, but the look on Spencer’s face told me that I was lying. And I believed that, too.

—————————————————

The thing about coming back from a gunshot wound to the stomach is that it takes a ridiculously annoying amount of time. Like, yeah, the pain is something awful, but the wait for things to return to normal was even worse.

I didn’t even know how long it’d been, my brain blocking out anything that reminded me of that day. If I ever really needed to know, Spencer could tell me. I was basically only keeping track of the days by deadlines for school and the dwindling prescriptions I had left.

My follow-up appointment was next week, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Spencer told me he would come with me, but I hadn’t really heard from him in a couple of days. He didn’t even have time to tell me about the case, although I could tell it was one of the “bad” ones – not that there were really any “good” ones.

But still, it was almost 11pm and I was about to go to sleep, but I wanted to wait a little bit longer before I called it a night. I was just hoping that I’d be able to talk to him, even if it was just to say goodnight. I missed his voice like crazy.

So when my phone lit up, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. There weren’t many people who would call me this late on a Friday – my friends were all already out for the night.

“Hello?” I sang into the receiver, already excitedly spinning around in my chair.

But the voice that responded was decidedly not Spencer.

“Hey, (y/n), right? It’s JJ.”

Her voice rang like a record scratch through my head, and I halted in my chair. “Oh, hey JJ... Why are you calling me?” Suddenly, my enthusiasm morphed into an overwhelming anxiety and darkness that threatened to crush everything in its path. “I-Is everything alright?”

But then I heard it. The sound of terrible music, loud laughter, and the general bustle of a restaurant. It was followed by an even more nervous JJ, “Uhh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was calling because Spencer might have had a few too many drinks and—“

Above the chaotic noise that I just described, I heard Spencer Reid loud and clear. Well, maybe not the clear part. His inaudible slurring sounded vaguely like a rant I’d heard before. Then again, hadn't I heard them all at this point? ?

I hadn’t put it together yet, though, and once I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. “My boyfriend is drunk? Cute.”

I was already standing, gathering my things and tossing my jacket on to head out when I asked, “Do you want me to come get him?”

“Please.” I’d never heard a more relieved woman in my life. The very thought of him driving his best friends insane with his drunken lessons was enough to combat my exhaustion. The poor thing was probably humiliating himself one sip at a time.

But for every chuckle, I was really just hiding a deeper concern. Spencer wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Spencer wasn’t allowed to drink, and he knew that. Out of the two of us, he was the one who put himself at risk more often, and I had a goddamn bullet wound.

“Sure thing. Just send me the address.”

It dawned on me somewhere along the 20 minute drive that Spencer had not only finished his case, but also come home and gone out for a drink with his team. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but the fact that he hadn’t told me about any of it...?

I tried not to think about it, knowing that talking to him about it tonight would be a waste of time, anyway. From the way he'd sounded over the phone, he wouldn’t be in any state to talk about the deep nuances of addiction and our relationship.

So I pushed it away, trying to enjoy the fact that I’d be able to see him again. Now that we’d cleared the air about my past, things felt strangely calm. I told myself it wasn’t just the eye of the storm because I wasn't sure I could handle much more excitement lately.

Showing up at one of the bars I used to frequent didn’t do much to convince me otherwise, either. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me like a freight train as soon as I stepped out of my car. How did I do this every other night before?

As I approached the door, I didn’t even recognize the bouncer’s figure in the shade of the dim porch light. I recognized his voice, though, that’s for sure.

“Hey Jailbait, haven’t seen you around.”

Shit. Slower now, I hesitantly approached him with the most innocent and well-meaning look I could muster, knowing full well that another part of my life was going to be exposed tonight. At least this time, Spencer was the story and not the listener.

“Hey Tom...” I nervously laughed, drawing out the words while I came to a stop.

“Heard some pretty crazy shit went down to keep you off the scene. Must be bad if it keeps you away from me.”

It was weird to think that they talked about me. But I guess it was to be expected; we were all friends before Spencer Reid. And when someone in those friend groups goes missing suddenly, there’s usually reason to be worried. But in my situation, the worry wasn’t really necessary (aside from the whole being shot thing, I guess).

“Crazy is a good word for it.”

He leaned forward, beckoning for me to move in even closer with a wave of his hand. I complied, although I was a little confused as to why we were being so secretive.

“Hey, sorry, but... I can’t let you in tonight. You know I normally would, but the place is swarming with feds tonight.”

Then I remembered that I actually had to explain the reason for my absence, rather than just think about it in the abstract. “Oh no, I know.” I peered around him, trying to spot the man past the door. It wasn’t hard, considering how goddamn tall he was.

I pointed to him, causing Tom to turn with an amused grin before I explained, “I’m here for the drunk noodle man.”

The look on his face – hilarious, and a little insulting.

“What? Jailbait’s picking up a fed? Damn girl what’ve you been into?” He laughed, barely able to control himself. He laughed so hard, in fact, I’m surprised there weren’t tears in his eyes.

“Stop that.” I whined, but he didn’t listen.

“Does he know who he’s dating?”

The question hurt more than he could have anticipated. I didn’t want to confront those messy feelings, so I bundled them all into an annoyed exclamation. “Yes, he knows!” I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away from him as I stepped towards the door. “So can I go get him?”

He composed himself rather quickly after that, shaking his head and unhooking the rope that blocked off the door. “Please do. If I have to hear one more fact about Ancient Rome, I might quit.”

With the last obstacle gone, I happily skipped through the door, the excitement returning in a bubbling wave through my chest. “Thanks, Tom!” I chirped, barely giving him a glance as I raced through the door.

The only person more surprised to see me than Tom was Spencer. Although, to his credit, I did practically launch myself at his side. We both nearly toppled to the ground thanks to our lack of coordination, but we were luckily stopped by the bar he was leaning against.

“Boo!” I shouted in his ear, hearing a small, surprised gasp from my boyfriend.

“(Y/n)?” He turned towards me now, stars quickly forming in his eyes as a big, goofy smile spread across his face. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized me in the dim light.

“Hey old man.”

Hugging me back just a little too tightly, he began to gush, “Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?” Of course, before I could answer, he came to several other conclusions. “Wait! This is a bar. You can’t be here! You aren’t twenty one!”

He thought he was whispering, but he definitely, definitely was not.

“I’m here to pick you up, not party.” I actually whispered back, turning to see JJ practically hiding at the table. I’m guessing he hasn't wanted her to call me, although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care at this point. He seemed pretty happy I was there.

“You can’t pick me up. You’re hurt.”

I didn’t even know where to start with that, so I just chuckled. “Smart as a whip, Dr. Reid.”

I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkled dress shirt he'd either had no time to iron, or had worn to bed the night before. I didn’t like either of those options. Spencer must have noticed me analyzing the fact, because his hand came up to stop me.

Trying to quickly change the subject, I blurted out over the terrible music, “Even when I’m hurt, I can probably still pick you up. You probably weigh the same as me.”

He scoffed, looking down at his lanky body compared to mine before shaking his head. “That’s hurtful, (y/n).” He attempted a puppy dog face, which only made laughter burst from my pursed lips.

Grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling him away from the bar, I turned and waved to the few team members I could spot among the crowd before returning to my drunken idiot of a boyfriend. “Come on, love. It’s time to take you home with me.”

When the cool autumn air hit him, I felt the goosebumps ripple over his arm. He leaned a bit closer, resting too much of his body weight on me for my comfort, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop.

“How did you find me?” He mumbled, trying to touch me more than he currently was. Pushing him away from me was supposed to serve as a gentle reminder that we were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all.

“JJ called me.”

“They all like you a lot. So do I.” His fast responses were a little less impressive considering how spontaneous they seemed, but I let it slide. As long as he was saying nice things, it was fine by me.

Guiding him as gently as possible, which is to say not gently at all considering he was essentially a human giraffe, I sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Spencer. Maybe I can actually hang out with them one of these days.”

The guilt appeared before I could stop it, but it was the least of my worries at the moment. More concerning would be getting him into his house and in bed without either of us doing something stupid. After all, he was usually the one who stopped me from being stupid. And so far tonight, he’d already done something pretty damn stupid.

As I pulled the driver side door closed, a silence filled the car. Spencer was stuck between staring at me with a lovesick smile and looking away, probably because of his pink cheeks making him look a perfect combination of embarrassed and plastered.

“So what had you drinking, Spencer?”

“A case.” He shot back with that voice he usually reserved for the bedroom. It was the voice that told me not to press, to take his answer and let it die.

Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that this time, concerning this particular topic. . “Good thing or bad thing drinking?” I asked quietly.

I think he wanted to snap at me, to tell me that it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t. The way my hands and words trembled told him that I was just as scared as he was that the answer might be the wrong one.

“I don’t know,” was what he said, instead.

“Okay.” I accepted that answer, understanding that it meant we could talk about it later, when his blood went back to normal and his mind was where it should be. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

And there we were, me sitting and staring at the indicators on the car as the engine turned, and him staring at me in the little light provided. After staring back at him for a moment, I had to ask the glaringly obvious question.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

That’s when Spencer Reid let out an honest to god giggle, his hands reaching out to massage my face that no longer showed any signs of the black eye I'd received a few weeks prior. “You’re sooo pretty.” He drawled, slumping over in his seat so he could rest his face against my shoulder.

I couldn’t help but laugh back, petting his hair for a second before returning my attention to the wheel. “Oooh, I like this.” I whispered, letting my heart skip a few beats as he nuzzled into the warmth that only I could provide him.

“I love you.” He mumbled against my shirt, letting out a deep breath before apparently trying to fill his lungs with the smell of my laundry detergent.

The sensation of his breath hot against my neck caused a familiar desire to stir in me, just barely beaten out by the even more powerful adoration I had for the puppy-like man who was already practically asleep on my shoulder.

“I love you, too, darling.”

He didn’t hear me, his soft breath indicating that he would be out for the drive. Taking my time to avoid the roads with potholes and curves, I managed to keep Spencer on me the whole way back to his apartment. Once we were there, though, I didn’t have any option but to wake him up. Unlike him, I definitely could not carry him out of the car.

It took him a surprisingly long period of time to realize that we were not, in fact, at my place. As soon as he did notice, he rubbed his eyes like it would transform the door in front of him. “Why didn’t you take me home?”

“This is your apartment, babe.” I explained, digging through his pockets to find his keys. He jumped at the contact before letting out a sound that was way too close to a moan for him to be making in the hallway.

“Yeah that’s not home.” He answered, swallowing down other noises that threatened to erupt by the time I withdrew my hand. “But home is–“ He hiccuped, patting his finger on my nose as he tried to stabilize his feet. “Home is where you are.”

“Mmm, so smooth.” I hummed, unlocking the door and shoving his drunk ass into the apartment before he could do something else that made me question whether I should just turn around and go home.

But he just looked so proud of himself, spinning around on his feet and crashing into the table beside the door. “Thank you!” He chirped, reaching forward to grab my hand and pull me closer.

When our bodies pressed together, the first thing I noticed was the fact he was clearly much more excited to be home with me than he was letting on. The thin fabric of his slacks left little to the imagination, and when my hand slid over the tent in his pants, there was nothing left to wonder.

“I brought you here... because I didn’t want to have to be quiet.” I purred, palming his erection over his clothes.

Through his broken moans, he still managed to ask the silliest question: “Why are you going to be loud?”

He was so fucking cute; so remarkably innocent in his drunken stupor, it was hard to remember that he was the same man that once finger fucked me on the metro.

“Why do you think?” I asked just as sweetly, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

Spencer still just stared, mesmerized by the way the buttons slipped from the fabric between my fingers. Once they were all open, I ran my hands over his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He was the one to close the gap, coming down to deliver a feverish kiss against my lips. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in him. His hands were on my lower back, sneaking under my shirt and spreading goosebumps all over my skin.

I moaned into his mouth with the utmost desperation, murmuring words against his lips. “Take me to bed, Spencer,” I begged.

The words awoke something in him, and suddenly, his hands were off of me and raised in the air.

“Wait— I can’t.” He concluded, drawing in heavy breaths.

“Why not?”

I wasn’t sure which part of this situation did him in, although I had my suspicions. As much as I wanted him, I would suppress those urges if he was really, truly uncomfortable. I almost felt bad for a second, but then he spoke again.

“I have a girlfriend.”

With a few slow blinks, I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to return a serious answer. Deciding that was impossible, I deadpan replied, “I am your girlfriend, you absolute idiot.”

I took his stunned silence to be permission enough to start leading him into his room. He honestly looked like I’d just told him all the answers to the universe, and he trailed after me like my hand was a leash. Still, once I sat on the bed and pulled his body against mine, he paused again.

“My girlfriend can’t— she’s hurt. She can’t have sex with me.”

I got the impression he was trying to reason with himself more so than with me, which explained the third person. But it was deeply unsettling, because I really needed to know he was here in this moment with me.

“Stop saying 'she'. It’s me, babe.” I gently reminded, and I watched it dawn on him again, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. Sliding my hand up his arm, I pulled him forward to hopefully convince him to climb into the bed with me. “And we don’t have to have sex.”

Funny enough, Spencer was the one who had enough sense to strip off most of his clothes before he stumbled onto the mattress after me. His lack of coordination was even worse with the alcohol, and it reminded me of the virginal teenager I’m certain he once was.

It was strange to consider, that if we’d met each other under different circumstances, at a different time, our roles might have been somewhat reversed. To picture him as an innocent little thing was... kind of exciting.

But he was anything but innocent now, his face hanging over mine while he helped me disrobe, trying to focus his analytical abilities on me in his haze. Finding no pain or hesitancy, he crashed his lips over mine with an energy I hadn’t seen in some time.

And it was so invigorating, to feel his skin against mine without him having to constantly worry about whether or not he was hurting me. It’d been far too long since we shared a bed together like this, and now that it was happening, I could hardly breathe.

“God, I love her.” He whispered against my skin, before quickly correcting himself, “I love you.”

I laughed, the kind that sputters from your lips when you try to hold it back. Pushing the hair from his face, I ran my fingers over his scalp. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, diving back down to kiss me again. I wasn’t going to argue with the brilliant Spencer Reid, even if the point he was making was that he was, in fact, stupid.

Maybe it was stupid, the two of us tangling up in his sheets despite the fact that I hadn’t been cleared for it yet by my doctor. I knew that it was coming soon – probably at my appointment in a couple weeks, actually – so why wait? I knew that Spencer would never hurt me. Even now, his hands were gentle in their insistence, raking over my hip and stopping just short of the place where I really wanted him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his hips rocking forward and pressing his erection against my leg.

“Touch me.” I ordered, louder and more forcefully than I intended. I was expecting an argument, but I didn’t get one. In fact, Spencer’s finger had already breached my folds before I even finished talking. Unwilling to let him be the only one to enjoy himself, I reached down to grab his cock.

“Shit.” He hissed, biting down on his lip while he rutted against my hand. “I just want to hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” The restraint was obvious in the fingers slowly sinking into me, his jaw clenched and his eyes barely able to stay open. “But I can’t.”

Through my heavy breaths, I panted out another request. “Tell me more about it.”

He immediately realized why I’d asked, and his fingers began to pump in and out of me faster and with more force, his lips trailing kisses over to my ear. While I tried to keep up the pace of my strokes, it became more complicated when his breath fanned over my ear.

“It’s been so long since I bent you over and had my way with you like I did that morning over your kitchen counter...” He moaned, and I could almost feel the sensations as he remembered them. Although his fingers would never be the same, just having him inside me in any capacity felt like pure bliss.

But he wasn’t done, continuing to speak his thoughts into my ear. “I just want to—fuck, I want to fill you up.” I went to respond, but I choked on a sob, instead. The lewd sounds between us only aided his descriptions.

“God, I love the way you feel. You’re always so wet for me.” He whispered, beginning to make small thrusts with his hips. The movement essentially allowed him to use my hand to stroke himself, and he let out another unsteady moan at the contact. “Think about what it feels like, little girl.”

“I-I am.” I could barely make the words come out; my body too sensitive to his touch after being starved of it for so long. And Spencer was ready to take full advantage of that.

“I still have so much planned for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled when you got all riled up.” He growled, using his free hand to grab a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head further to the side, laying sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I told you I’d give you triple the marks you left on me, and I can’t wait to cover you with me.”

“Fuck. Please, Spencer.” I hoarsely begged, my hand on his shoulder tightening so that my nails dug into his skin. If his grip on my hair wasn’t so tight, I would have thrown my head back. Instead, I just squirmed underneath him, crying out, “I’m so close, Spencer, please!”

He did not disappoint, his fingers curling inside of me with each thrust, and by some grace of God, he was able to coordinate his thumb over my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulled back to look me in the eyes.

“I want to feel you come on my fingers.” It was more of a demand than a desire, as evidenced by the way his hand tugged on my hair. “Come on, little girl. Make daddy proud.”

Just like that, my body responded to his call, my muscles trembling from the tension as my orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train. It was such an overwhelming experience, to remember exactly how Spencer was capable of making me feel.

And he knew it, too. “Oh, good girl,” he cooed, continuing his kisses against my neck and murmuring the words as they came to him. “That’s my pretty little slut.”

After taking my time coming back to earth, I struggled from the overstimulation still burning between my legs. Spencer hadn’t stopped his fingers, which were diligently stroking inside of me while he continued to buck his hips against my hand.

“I want you to finish inside me.” I slurred in my delirium, withdrawing my hand from his dick while he whimpered.

“I-I can’t. I can’t fuck you.” He was asserting a necessary and understandable hard limit, and it was clear I wouldn’t be able to convince him to fuck me that night.

But that wasn’t the plan, anyway.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I said between gasps, struggling against his fingers still inside me. “Come up here.” I whined, rubbing my hands on his shoulders while simultaneously trying to sit myself up.

The movement and the words made him withdraw completely. “(Y/n)...” He warned, running a hand through his hair while he sat up on his knees. “I could hurt you.”

“That’s always been a risk with us, Spencer.” My retort was both quick and persuasive, judging by the way he almost moved, but stopped himself yet again.

“Please. Please, do it. I want you to do it so fucking bad.” There was an obvious and deep desperation. I was literally begging him, to the point that I swore I almost cried. It felt stupid, but I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life before. He’d spent months taking care of me, and I couldn’t do anything in return.

I just wanted to make him feel good, to give him something like we used to share.

Of course, I think those thoughts were also visible on my face, and they were obviously worrying him. With tender touches, Spencer’s fingers lightly trailed over the side of my face. The brief flashes of clarity alerted him of my struggle, and he let out a shaky breath at the war inside his own mind.

“I want to feel you inside me, and this is the only way.” I concluded, trying to lead him to the simplest conclusion. It was the safest, easiest way to solve both of our current problems. And although I could see how hard the decision was for him, my pleading eventually bested him.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, leaning forward to grab the headboard, staring down at me as I shimmied further up the wood.

“Fuck!” He repeated, rolling his head back with a light groan when both of my hands reached forward to grab his hips. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

A giggle bubbled through my throat, and my body actually bounced in excitement as he slowly positioned himself in front of me. I wasn’t even sure which I was more excited for, my own orgasm or getting to finally give him one again.

As soon as my mouth closed around the head of his dick, I got my answer. Spencer’s moan filled the room, his hands holding so firmly on the headboard that the entire bed creaked. Although I figured he’d been taking care of himself in my absence, it appeared that wasn’t entirely the case. He seemed just as starved as I was.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, dropping a hand to the top of my head. I had to remind myself that he was drunk, which explained why he seemed so much more responsive than normal, with whimpers and pants flowing steadily through his mouth. He only got louder as he began to slowly push himself further into my mouth, stopping every few inches to retreat before pressing further.

“God, I need to do this more often. No back talk, no whining.” He said in a low tone under his breath, beginning to settle on a steady rhythm.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think of anything except how fucking good it felt to be useful again, to feel him struggling to hold himself back as he started to more aggressively fuck my mouth. My eyes could barely stay open, but I needed them to. I needed to see him in the dim light of the streetlights that peered through the window.

He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and so mine. Feeling him slide back and forth against my tongue revived memories from long before and reignited my longstanding desire to do anything to please him. In all his caretaking, I was worried he might have forgotten how to control me.

But he hadn't. Thank god, he hadn’t.

“Come on, little girl. Earn your fill.” He whispered, burying himself in my throat and holding me against the headboard. I only lightly choked on the intrusion before my body complied, swallowing him further until my lips were pressed against the base of him.

Suddenly, Spencer withdrew, beginning a brutal, dizzying pace. Now, my eyes couldn’t stay open, rolling to the back of my head as I used my hands to steady myself against his thighs. The sobs trying to escape felt more like moans, and they shoved Spencer over the edge he’d been riding in his caution.

“That’s it. Take it.” He barked the instruction, looking down at me and smiling, “Don’t you dare spill any of it, do you hear me?”

My answer was stifled against him, just the way he wanted it to be. And with a few more rough thrusts, Spencer buried himself as deep as possible. I swore my heart synchronized with the pulsing against my tongue as his seed spilled down my throat.

I hollowed my cheeks, trying to drain every last drop from him as he finished. It had its desired effect, and Spencer grabbed my hair and forced himself deeper one more time with a growl. “Good girl.”

Once he had enough, he pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, waiting just a second before clumsily falling onto the bed beside me. I laughed as he hit the pillows, obviously too tired to even reposition himself in the disastrous sheets.

“Thank you, daddy.” I spoke in the silence, gingerly cleaning the spit that had dripped down my chin.

“Fuck.” The curse was muffled in the pillow, but I understood it well enough. He seemed more concerned when I started to sink down into the sheets again, reaching a tentative hand out to him.

Finally rolling over, he grabbed my arm and guided me closer. “Come here.” He said with the tenderness I’d grown used to over the past few months. He turned towards me, apparently not ready for me to sleep on my side just yet.

He brushed my hair from my face, lifting the sheets to look at the now mostly healed wound. I hated it when he looked at it. It just reminded me that I’d never be the same girl he first met. Every time he saw it, he would remember that day. I didn’t want to think about it.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

But even with the insecurity and anger in my gut, I wasn’t lying when I answered. “No, I’m fine.” My heart was so full, my body relaxing for the first time in so long. I was just so unbelievably happy to be together again. Even if it wasn’t like last time, it was still just as wonderful.

“I’m a little better than fine, actually.” I admitted with a bright smile.

Spencer hummed something in thought, but then winced. “Do me a favor.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and wiping a heavy hand over his face.

“Anything.”

“Kick my ass in the morning.”

He was caught off guard by my response, which was a full-hearted laugh that was too loud for how close the two of were. But I couldn’t help it, it was just so Spencer to still be punishing himself despite the fact that nothing bad had happened.

Once I calmed down enough to talk, I turned to him with a devilish grin. “I don’t wanna.”

Then were both laughing, and Spencer pulled me close to him until he could rest his chin on the top of my head, curling up against my side. “Spoiled brat.” He whined, running his hand through my hair and down my arm.

When I smelled the whiskey on his breath, the guilt hit me just as hard as any of the pleasure. I'd been so excited to get to experience this with him again, I almost forgot the reason he didn’t want to do it in the first place.

He just didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted to make me happy.

“I just wanted to be with you again... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” I whispered, pulling the covers up so that I could hide my shame beneath them.

“I wanted to be with you, too.” He reassured me, half asleep and barely able to talk but wanting to get the words out. “I know it’s important to you, but I need you to know I would be with you even if I never got to touch you again.”

“Please never stop touching me.” I quickly replied, a genuine worry in my eyes.

But when Spencer glanced over, he just laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“No? Even when I get pregnant and have a big ol’ belly?” I playfully answered, bringing his hand to my stomach and pressing it against the side that still remained intact.

The familiar position caused a shift in Spencer’s body language, and suddenly he was even more insistent on being impossibly closer. “You’ll still be irresistible to me.” He said against my hair, running his fingers lightly over the unmarked skin of my lower stomach.

“We’ll see, I guess.” I mumbled, not realizing that I said it aloud until I heard his confused reply.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” The defensiveness in my voice was terrifyingly transparent, and I hoped that if his drinking made him forget anything, it would be this conversation. “Go to sleep, drunk ass.”

“I need hugs and kisses first.” He complained, rubbing his nose against me in a way that should have been irritating instead of adorable.

“Spoiled.” I grumbled, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. I turned to kiss his cheek through the smile that was plastered over my cheeks.

Already half snoring in his sleepy state, he got out one more cringe worthy joke before he succumbed to his exhaustion. “What’s good for the goose...”

“...is good for the gander.” I finished for him, before taking the advice and following him to sleep.

—————————————————

| Part 18 |

1K notes · View notes

dontcallmecarrie · 3 years

Text

stress + commute + relentless plot bunny = tada, continuation to this!

"Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour.” Director Fury said as he settled down into his chair, eyeing him with a wariness one would normally give a live bomb, while at his side, Agent Romanov remained eerily impassive as she surveyed them both. “We’ve got some questions I get the feeling only you can answer.”

For his part, Justin Hammer merely leaned back into his own chair and steepled his fingers with an easy smile— which wasn’t as easy as he made it look, with the way he’d been cuffed. “Like I told the guards the first time, and the fifth, and the twelfth— if I knew what’s going on, I’d tell you.”

Though he could make a very reasonable guess, between Ivan’s latest experiment literally blowing up in all their faces and the whispers he’d been able to catch from the guards.

“Sure you would.” Director Fury said, no small amount of disbelief in his voice, and he shrugged.

“Take it from me, I’m about as happy as you are. You think I asked to get dropped smack-dab in the middle of some supermax? When I had a shareholder’s meeting coming up?”

“You appeared the same time an energy fluctuation was registered in several locations around the world.” Agent Romanov said, and Justin blinked.

“Oh?”

“Your existence is being kept classified, on pain of risking an international incident. Several countries’ systems and power grids were apparently caught up in whatever it is you’re a part of, and they’re not nearly as nice about getting their answers as we are.” She continued, the picture of reason, and Justin couldn’t keep the fondness from his smile because some things never changed, did they?

Of course SHIELD’s shadiness was a fundamental constant. And these guys probably thought they were being so subtle, too; Agent Romanov in particular seemed to think she knew him, which would undoubtedly come in handy in the future but was merely a nuisance at the moment. Not that it hurt to play along for now, but still.

Come on, give him some credit here.

“Which is all well and good, but the fact of the matter still stands: I. Don’t. Know. All I know is, one minute I’m caught up in the middle of some accident, thinking I’m going to be seeing pearly gates a whole lot earlier than I’d expected, and the next, these gentlemen—” Justin indicated, giving a slight nod to the security guards standing just out of earshot, “are giving me a...interesting welcome to Seagate, let’s just leave it at that.”

He’d be feeling it for a while, at the very least. Thank goodness for brief stint with the rugby club had taught him how to roll with the hit, otherwise some of the bruises he had would’ve been even uglier than they already were. As it was, getting changed into the stupid jumpsuit they’d forced him to wear had been a trial in and of itself, when simply bending over stole his breath away with the way his ribs twinged.

“That doesn’t answer our question.” Director Fury said, even as Agent Romanov leaned forward slightly.

“We can only help you as much as you help us, Justin.”

He couldn’t help the snort, at that. “What do you want me to say? I’m not some expert in what, dimension-crashing or whatever? Look, I’m not stupid, I saw my twin— or whatever you call him, anyway, I’m not sure how any of this works. Hey, how’d he mess up, anyway? I know I’ve made some poor life choices over the years, but those were mostly terrible haircuts and all-nighters during grad school, not...nothing on this scale.”

Nobody was stupid enough to alienate the CEO of the Hammer Industries, not when they were number one in the defense industry. Not when Justin had enough connections and favors piled up over the years to render him essentially untouchable to anyone but the heaviest of heavy hitters— and even then, they’d have to think twice before going after him.

...in his universe, anyway.

Which begged the question: just how badly had the Justin of this universe fucked up, for him to be in supermax? He needed to know the playing field before he could make any moves, especially if he wanted to secure anyone’s cooperation in getting home.

“You saw him?” Agent Romanov’s brow furrowed for a moment, before leaning back into her chair. “They hadn’t mentioned that.”

Justin let the corner of his mouth twitch up, as he also leaned back and shrugged. “These guys? Yeah, I’ve noticed they’re not exactly the chattiest.”

Director Fury’s frown deepened for a moment, before he gave him a searching look followed by a sharp nod as he stood up. “We’re transferring you into our custody. This matter has gone beyond their pay grade.”

With that, he turned and strode towards the interrogation cell’s entrance, Agent Romanov at his side and Justin rubbed his temples for a second at the impending headache because if this was what he thought it was, he was either going to be dealing with the Avengers, or be disappeared to whatever shady hole in the wall SHIELD had that’d make this place look like the Ritz.

...which also meant the rudimentary plans he’d been working on would be useless. Damn.

He took a deep breath, and let it out, and pretended it didn’t bother him, even as he watched Director Fury get into what appeared to be a very heated conversation with the prison warden. He couldn’t hear anything, not with the inch-thick bulletproof glass that separated the interrogation cell from the rest of the building.

As it was, the warden gestured for the guards to escort him back to his cell with his usual scowl, and Justin was good enough to know a power play when he saw one and oh, it was going to be that kind of mess, wasn’t it.

In the five minutes he’d had the dubious pleasure of meeting him, Seagate Penitentiary’s warden had come across as a jackass who liked to boast about running a tight ship but didn’t actually do anything for it— the epitome of a big fish in a small pond. Which was typically something he could get away with, but if this Director Fury was anything like the one Justin dealt with, then this particular encounter would be the only thing the guards’d be talking about for months.

And then.

The lights flickered for a second, and Justin froze.

So did the guards who’d been about to escort him back to his cell, some of whom were already reaching for their taser guns and he could already feel one of the guards starting to shove him forward when an unholy screech tore through the air and Justin knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what was happening as he caught a glimpse of familiar silver moments before the entire area plummeted into darkness.

Cabal was here.

Victor von Doom was a practical man.

So when his part of the plan had him working with a Winter Soldier who was still in the early stages of recovery from the mindfuck HYDRA was responsible for, he didn’t so much as bat an eye, just made sure he had a few extra backups for if things got hairy.

Which they did, but not for the reasons he or Soldat had expected.

For one, the interference of SHIELD— which had been something they’d picked up some chatter on, but not enough for concrete dates and he was not happy to find that if they hadn’t broken in when they had, Justin would’ve been snatched up and disappeared off to somewhere even harder to reach.

...if not for the fact that their plan required surgical precision, Victor would’ve given into the temptation to shoot something. Or someone, he wasn’t picky.

But needs must, so he gritted his teeth, coldly noted who said what during their eavesdropping, and stuck with the plan he’d formulated because Justin and the others were counting on him.

For his part, Soldat was a great partner for this aspect of their mission; even though he’d never done fieldwork like this before, and was not used to working with a magic user, he rolled with the punches and the guards never saw him coming.

Sometimes literally, because one of the few things Victor had mastered was a basic illusion— the magical equivalent of a flash-bang, sure, but it worked. Sure, it took a lot of focus for both of them to pull it off, but the important part is that it worked and their exit was as clear-cut as they could make it.

So when he and Soldat approached, he gave the signal and Soldat tapped his comm with a muttered, “objective secured,” and Victor didn’t question the odd echo because they had far more pressing matters at hand.

Such as the sight of his oldest friend in a prison jumpsuit, face slightly gaunt and glasses cracked and just like that, Victor found himself regretting telling Soldat about Cabal’s usual ‘no-kill, minimal collateral damage’ MO.

But.

They were on a time crunch, shift change was coming up and it took everything Victor had to stick to The Plan.

One flash-bang later, and Soldat did his part beautifully, a whirlwind of chaos and Justin’d helped him and Winter plan out theoretical combination attacks well enough to know to duck to the side and with that, the most vital part of this entire operation was secured.

“Victor? I’m assuming it’s you.” Justin blinked the stars out of his eyes even as a familiar hand reached over to help him up, and he took it gratefully. “Good to see you too, Winter—”

“It’s Soldat,” the man corrected gruffly even as he ushered him along, and Justin blinked.

“Oh, my apologies. Thank you, Soldat.”

“Introductions later, we’re on a time crunch,” Victor cut in, voice unusually flat and the last time Justin had seen him this angry had been during that HYDRA mess— what was going on?

Seeing his concern, Victor’s expression lightened for a moment and he gave him a quick smile. “Catch you up later, but we really need to go.”

Victor stared.

He couldn’t help it— just.

At his side, his Justin looked at the rest of their allies with concern, even as his counterpart started to pale and hyperventilate and how was this his life?

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#schrodinger's canon #My writing

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ravennm84 · 4 years

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Lyre Festival Justice

Here is the sequel to Lyre Festival Fraud where you get to see exactly what happened to Lila during her long weekend after she went back to Italy. I thought, at first, that I may have gone to far with the salt... But it’s Lila and I really don’t like her character. So, Warm-Fuzzies and enjoy this salty goodness!!

It was a beautiful day in Rome and Lila was enjoying her shopping spree around the city. She and her mother had spent the first few days after moving back to Italy unpacking and getting settled. It was Sunday, and her mother had to go to the embassy to make sure that all of her paperwork had transferred from Paris, which gave Lila the opportunity to spend the money she’d gotten from the idiots from her old class. Really, she couldn’t believe how stupid they all were to have just handed her over €2,000 for a luxury vacation in Venice. She should have gotten at least €3,000 from the class, but that Mari-brat and stick-in-the-mud Adrien had convinced some of them that she was lying. Oh well, €2,000 was better than nothing.

Best part, none of it could be traced back to her. They travelled to Venice on their own, nothing had been written down, her old mobile phone was disconnected and in a landfill somewhere, and she would just tell her mother that she had gotten all her new clothes at a thrift shop she remembered from the last time they’d been living in Rome. And if the idiots got in trouble and tried to say that she was involved, she’d turn on the tears and her mother would side with her like she always did. Seeing a little cafe, she stopped in to get a good cappuccino, it had been too long since she’d had a deceit cup of coffee.

It was mid afternoon by the time she got home. She had made a stop at the thrift store to grab a couple of their shopping bags to hide the real ones inside. It felt wrong to put a Versace skirt in a bargain bag, but one does what one must to keep her life going smoothly. Opening the door to the apartment, she barely caught sight of her mother sitting on the couch before Lila started gushing about how great it was to be back in Italy and all the things she’d missed.

She prattled on for a couple minutes before noticing that her mother hadn’t said anything. Turning to look at her, Lila flinched when she saw her. Something was seriously wrong, the last time she had seen her mother so angry was when she’d told her that her dad was cheating on her. That hadn’t been true but they had ended up getting divorced anyway, which was to Lila’s benefit since the man had always called her out on her lies.

“Is everything okay, Mama?” She asked cautiously, doing her best to sound and appear small and innocent.

“Sit down.”

Her tone left no room for argument. Lila set down her bags and sat in the chair across from her mother.

“Mama, wha-”

“Be quiet!” She snapped, and Lila shut her mouth. This actually seemed worse than the fight her parents had before they divorced. “I received a very strange email on Friday night, from a former classmate of yours in Paris. It seemed that the majority of your class was under the impression that we were throwing a party for a lot of important politicians, celebrities, and musicians on a private island and you had invited them. I told myself, ‘not my daughter, she would never do something like that’. But the email went on, with a list of the students that were supposedly going on this trip and gave you money for the expenses. Again, I thought ‘Lila would never be so cruel as to steal money from her friends right before we left Paris’. So I told the person who sent me that detailed information, that I would handle it. I still thought it was a joke.��

The teenage girl didn’t even have to listen to the end of this story, she knew that goody-two-shoes Marinette had ratted her out. Lila was fighting every instinct she had to run and lock herself in her room, but if she moved even a little her mother would stop her. She could only sit there and hope that she could come up with some kind of lie to convince her mother that she was being set up.

“Then when I went into the embassy today, my boss pulled me into his office and started grilling me as to why I allowed seven unaccompanied minors entry into the country. I tried to explain that I had no idea what he was talking about, and then he started reading off the names. Do you want to guess why those names sounded so familiar?”

By this point, Lila was practically curling into herself to make herself appear smaller. She had to say something, any lie that would make her mother believe her and only her. Turning on the tears, she buried her face in her hands and spoke between sobs. Fake crying always gave her a few extra seconds to think before she had to speak. “I swear, Mama. I didn’t want to do it. Marinette forced me to take those papers from your office to give to our classmates so they could get into the country without their parents. I never took any money from them, I swear! Marinette was bullying me the entire time we were in Paris, I was scared of what she’d do to me if I didn’t do what she said. You’ve got to believe me!”

“So you’re saying that you didn’t tell your class about some non-existent party on a private island, had no knowledge of who was coming into Italy, where they were going, or anything like that?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she brought out her mobile phone.

Her hands were shaking as she kept her face buried in her hands, something about her mother’s tone and the way she spoke made this feel like a trap. But she couldn’t backtrack now, Marinette was her way out and she had to stick with it. So she nodded as she continued to sob into her hands.

“Then please explain this to me.” Her mother turned the phone towards her and Lila looked up, her face falling in horror when she heard her own voice. It was a video of her telling her class about who was going to be at the party that she and her mom were organizing, how she was going to need to know for sure who all was coming before the weekend, and Marinette had somehow gotten video of Alya and Nino each handing her €300!

It took longer than she would like to admit for the shock to wear off, but she was smart enough to stick to her original story. “It’s fake! Marinette must have made it to get me in trouble. Max probably helped her, he’s really good with computers. It’s all too convenient to be true. I mean, she sends you all this information about which people are going, how much money they gave me, and a story about a party on a private island in Venice, that anyone would be able to see is clearly fake. Can’t you see that I’m being set up?”

Her mother’s eyes grew harder as she stood from her chair, causing Lila to shrink even further into her own.

“You say that this is all a set up and you had no idea where your classmates were going in Italy, but you just told me the exact city where they were found. You left them waiting on a dock for you to come ferry them to that non-existent private island, and don’t even bother saying that you know which city because of the video I just showed you, because it never names the city they were in.”

Well, crap. She was about to try another tactic, but her mother cut her off before the first syllable left her mouth.

“Young lady, do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?” she yelled, her face beginning to turn a purplish-red and began pacing the room. “You forged my signature on multiple federal documents, endangered the lives of multiple minors, committed theft, and god knows how many other laws you’ve broken. I can’t protect you from this! You will be facing federal charges for what you’ve done!”

Lila felt her stomach drop to her ankles. “But-but that was all in Paris, and I had diplomatic immunity while I was there!”

“It became an international incident when you forged an ambassador’s signature on federal documents that endangered minors! My boss gave me a choice,” her voice grew even harder and colder than before. “Either you answer for what you’ve done and plead guilty, or I lose my job and we both go to trial for what you’ve done.”

“You’d let me go to jail for one little lie? It’s not like anyone got hurt!” Lila screamed, standing from her chair in a panic. This was much worse than she’d imagined.

“And what if they had been?” Her mother screamed back. “What if they had been kidnapped and sold into human trafficking? What if one of them had fallen off the dock and drowned in the channel or hit by a boat? I would be held responsible for that because you forged my signature! Do you not care about the people around you at all? What is wrong with you?”

“But nothing happened to them! It’s their own fault for being stupid enough to believe such an obvious lie. And you’re taking their side over mine? How dare you call yourself my mother and claim to love me!”

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your bad behavior!” Her mother yelled back as she advanced on her, making her fall back onto the chair. Mme. Rossi looked back at the shopping bags she had knocked over when she had turned, revealing the Versace bag. Tilting her head back, she took multiple deep breaths before looking at her daughter.

“This is what’s going to happen. You are going to return everything you bought today, and you are going to explain to the managers of each store exactly why you are returning everything.” Lila was about to protest, but one look from her mother had her mouth snapping shut. “We will also be clearing out your savings to pay back your classmates for the money you took, their travel expenses, their parents travel expenses, and any money they lost while being away from their jobs to retrieve their children. After that, you will be standing trial for forgery and fraud. If you know what’s good for you, you will go before the judge and apologize profusely for what you’ve done and listen to everything the judge tells you. If you’re lucky you may receive a lenient sentence; but either way, you can expect your next school to be a reformatory school. And if you try to fight me on any of this, I will let a court appointed attorney with no experience handle your case instead of the family lawyer. Have I made myself clear?”

No longer having to fake her tears, Lila nodded to her mother, resigning herself to the fact that her life had been ruined because her mother didn’t love her and Marinette didn’t know how to keep her nose out of where it didn’t belong.

~oOo~

The rest of the day, Lila was forced to return everything that she bought back to the stores and tell the managers how she had stolen the money from her classmates and then abandoned them in a country and city that they weren’t familiar with. The people that overheard her were horrified by what she had done and the managers banned her from ever shopping in those stores again. After all, if she was willing to steal money from her friends, there was little doubt that she would steal from the stores.

After everything was returned, she was taken to the embassy where they recorded her confession on how she lied to everyone, forged her mother’s signature on the documents she stole, and how she scammed over €2,000 from her former classmates. After the confession was taped, she was taken outside of the embassy and handed over to the police to be kept in a juvenile detention center. She screamed at her mother, not believing that she would just hand her over like that, but the woman looked down her nose at her and said, “It’s time for you to face the consequences of your actions, young lady.”

When she arrived at the police station, she was relieved to see their family lawyer was waiting for her, although he was less than thrilled by what she had done. He explained that even as a minor, she could be serving 2-6 years just for the forgery of the documents, that wasn’t even factoring in the scam or reckless endangerment of seven minors. If she were to be tried as an adult, she could be serving 6 years for each document, facing serious fines and more time for each classmate she endangered.

After hearing that, Lila had to rush to the trash can to throw up. She couldn’t believe that one little lie could get her into so much trouble. But this wasn’t her fault, none of it was. If there was anyone to blame, it was that goody-two-shoes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all the effort she went through to destroy that girl, she just wouldn’t back down. She would make that girl pay for what she’d done. As soon as the charges were all dropped, she would do everything she could, use every dirty trick in the book to force the nosy girl to end her life and stay out of hers.

But that would have to wait for now. For the time being, she would do what her mother said and play her part. Act like the innocent girl that had gotten caught up in her own fibs while trying to make friends in a new country. She didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or in trouble, she was just so overwhelmed and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She would need to cry a lot, that was a given, but she could do this. Just fake it until she could get her revenge on the girl that ruined her life.

~oOo~Three Months Later~oOo~

Lila hadn’t meant to lose control in front of the judge. She’d spent months locked away with a bunch of low-class delinquents, talking to different lawyers and quack-doctors before going to court. She had been the picture of innocence and childhood regret the second she walked into the courtroom, she was sure to get off all the charges against her. But she and her lawyer had been blindsided.

The quack-doctors had called her a narcissist and a sociopath, in need of desperate help. To prove that, all of her lies, everything she had said while in Paris had been brought into evidence against her. They’d exposed her truancy and forgery at her old school, found proof of her purposefully getting Marinette expelled, and faking interviews on the Ladyblog which brought her more lawsuits from a bunch of the celebrities she’d lied about.

Some of her classmates had come to give testimony on what she had done and said during her time in Paris. The goodie-two-shoes brat had even come to Italy to give testimony against her, though Lila hadn’t been allowed in the courtroom while she was there, as Marinette hadn’t felt safe to be in the same room. Lila’s lawyer had actually agreed, probably so she wouldn’t cause a scene. And she probably would have. She would have stabbed her in the face with a pencil, in front of the entire courtroom, if she had the chance.

But the worst had to do with the school security cameras. After M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier had been fired for neglectful and abusive behavior to their students, which had been brought about by the investigation into Marinette’s expulsion, the Board of Governors went farther back through the recordings to see how long the bullying had been going on. What they found was video evidence of Lila grabbing an akuma out of the air and putting it into her earring, and then willingly working with the known terrorist.

To make matters even worse, Ladybug and Chat Noir had sent a video as testimony of the times Lila had purposefully interfered with their rescues and had led Chat away from Ladybug to make her more vulnerable to the akuma Oni-chan. Her lawyer tried to get the video stricken from evidence as he couldn’t cross-examine the two heroes, but it was denied.

Her parents had been sitting behind her when they showed those videos. When her mother saw them, it was like she completely shut down. She heard her say that she wanted to leave, and Lila watched as her father helped her mother to her feet and lead her out of the courtroom without looking back.

The judge had been absolutely disgusted with her, going as far as to call her a monster for willingly aiding a terrorist. Since she had already confessed to multiple counts of forgery, fraud, and reckless endangerment of minors, and would now be adding slander and other charges from her time in Paris, the most notable being terrorism; he declared that she would be tried as an adult and was likely to spend the rest of her life in prison.

She’d completely lost it at that point, screaming at the top of her lungs as she jumped over the table to attack the judge. She didn’t remember smashing the water pitcher against one guard's head, scratching another guard across the face, or getting tasered in the back. When she woke up, she was strapped to a bed by her wrists and ankles, her head felt really foggy, and there were a bunch of nurses and orderlies that were keeping keen eyes on her.

Lila Rossi spent the rest of her life heavily medicated in a maximum security mental health hospital. Most every night, the nurses would hear her plotting some kind of scheme to show everyone what a loser Marinette was, but then she would trail off about how she wanted to hear the song Jagged Stone wrote for her or the album she’d help Clara Nightingale write. When she saw people, she would ramble and lie about being a princess or a secret agent, and that she was only here to keep her safe until they came to get her. Over the years, it was all written off as the insane ramblings of a very disturbed girl that would be remaining at the hospital for the rest of her life.

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #ml fic #lila lies

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achliegh · 3 years

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Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 7:

Fast!

Bar Playlist: Youtube, Spotify

Fishing In the Dark

“Okay Logan, we are going to be on Peanut together. Sound good?” Leo held a kiss dazed Logan’s face in his hands as they spent the last hour convincing Logan to go on the trail ride with them. Kissing him until he couldn’t focus on his fear was seeming to work the best. Finn got in on it too before he had gotten on his own horse, along with most of the team. Celeste and Dumo decided to stay behind and help Judy clean up.

Leading a still dazed Logan over to Peanut he helps him up, Leo following soon after. Hands under Logan's arms holding the reins. Lo was leaning back into Leo’s chest and only noticed they were on a living vehicle when said vehicle started moving to join the others.

Leo rubbed a soothing hand over his side to let him know he was okay. Finn and Clay trotted over to Leo and Logan with a smile on their faces. There was a brown Burmese cat that was lazily stretched across Leroy’s rear behind Clay.

“It’s about time! From what I’ve heard Logan is pretty good at riding, should transfer over to equine.” Clay winks and Logan smacks Leo’s arm as he tries to hide his laugh. “Just know that Leo tells me everything… even stuff I don’t want to know. But I do the same with him.” Clay shrugs and turns around going over to Thomas, Noelle and Reg, the cat just fully relaxed as Leroy bumped it around.

“How long have you had him?” Thomas vaguely gestures to Clay and his posse.

“About 4 years, found him in the woods eating a rabbit.” Clay smiles at him as they ride side by side down the trail Leo and Logan were leading. Jerry, a little song bird that loves to ride with Leo anytime he goes down the trail perching himself on the rim of Leo’s hat.

“Wha- I thought horses were herbivores!” Clay looks up at a confused Thomas and raises an eyebrow, then it clicks.

“Oooohhhh, you think Leroy is a HE! Nope, she’s a mare! Had her since I was 9 years old. Tina is a man though, fathers all the kitties around the farm.” Smiling his million dollar smile at him. “I also have a sand boa named William-”

“Snakespear?” Clay blinks a few times and laughs nodding.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe to some of us who… maybe still browse Tumblr on occasion.” Thomas winks at him causing Clay's face to heat up, swallowing the happy feelings that he knows he can’t have. He smiles back and trots ahead to be next to Logan and Leo.

Logan was gripping Leo’s wrist the entire trail ride, Finn was so distracted at one point Kuny let go of a tree branch and it smacked him across the face because he didn’t listen when he was told to duck.

It was a nice relaxing ride through the countryside, nothing fancy, just an easy going adventure. Everyone made it back to the pasture in one piece, thank god, everyone was hopping off and unsaddling the horses.

Leo got off Peanut first just for a moment, in that moment he watched Logan completely freak out when Peanut took three steps to the left to graze. Hiding his smiling by sucking his lips in between his teeth, walking over to Lo he helped him off of the horse. Logan was clinging to Leo like a koala, and tight enough it was hard for Leo to breath.

“You okay?” Leo put a hand under Logan’s booty to support him and ran his other hand through his soft curls. Hoping he felt safe now.

“I am now.” Logan looks up at him and smiles before lightly nipping at his jaw. Leo laughs a little and nods a thank you to Reg who is un saddling Peanut. Leading everyone inside to relax until they go out later tonight. Walking into the entrance hall and kicking off his boots all while holding Logan still.

“I thought these were school pictures!” Jackson, or Nado as the team calls him, points to the bunches of framed photos of Leo. “Are these… mugshots!?” He laughs in disbelief. The rest of the team starts to examine the pictures more closely. Some pictures had Leo with bruises or blood, some had him smiling with a middle finger up or peace signs, others had him looking annoyed. His younger one from when he was like 12 -13 years old were of him looking scared or crying.

“Yeah, they are all my mugshots from when I was, I think, 12 to this year. The Sheriff doesn't like us at all, arrests Clay and I for random reasons and even if, like when we were younger we would call the cops because someone vandalized the gate to the ranch and tried to break in. I got arrested for a false call. I was 14 I think. The cops are definitely not afraid to use force with us either… I hope he fucking leaves us alone while y’all are down visiting.” Leo is looking at his first mugshot ever of him sobbing at 12 years old. The week of his birthday, someone threw a rock through a window at a shop and blamed him.

“Is this your sister?” Timmy points to a mugshot of Eloise from last year and Reg bursts out laughing, Clay snorts and Leo looks confused.

“That’s my mom…”

Hours later, the drunk trio had already left for the bar to get a table and to talk to some of their friends they haven’t seen since the beginning of summer. The team was in their little ranch hand house getting ready, the speakers in the house all blaring Fast! By Sueco the Child because they know… they know there will be nothing but yeehaw music to assault and molest their ears tonight.

Thomas was pulling his grey shirt over his head, smoothing the fabric down as Noelle chills in her sweatpants and his t-shirt. People who didn’t want to go out are going over to Clay’s house to learn a bunch of mixed drink recipes and to talk shit. It was mostly the girls who didn’t feel comfortable getting harassed by middle aged men with beer guts, Dumo and Celeste who have become close friends with Judy overnight, and people who didn’t like going out in general. Like Olli, Adam, Timmy, and Sergei.

“We should talk to him.” Thomas sits down next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. Looking at the ceiling all he can think about is how easy they got along with Clay. How his smile and Noelle together made his heart speed up. When they both turned to look at him earlier he thought he was going to have a heart attack.

“I think you need to talk to him first, this is something new for you. To like a man. I- I’m not going to lie the thought of Clay and you separately give me the same feelings, but you two together. It makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt. Do you maybe want to talk to Lo or Finn before we talk to Clay? To make sure this isn’t just us… I don’t know, using Clay in a way we don’t mean to?”

“Yeah, I think that's a good idea. But when can we get them away from Leo long enough to talk to them?” Looking at his watch and hearing all the thumping down the stairs he gives her one last kiss before standing up and stretching.

“You could try to corner one of them tonight?” She smiles at him and winks at him as he shakes his head. “Have a good time tonight, Babe.”

“You too.” He heads out the bedroom down and down the stairs. He was riding with James and Coops to the Bar but maybe he would try to switch and ride with Finn and Logan.

“Red-ay!” James slings his arm around his shoulders and ruffles his hair. He thinks for a moment, then sees Finn swinging the keys to his rental car on his finger as Logan is on the ground struggling to yank his boots on. He was wearing heavy combat boots to dance around at a ‘Honkey-Tonk’ as Leo calls it. Seems like a bad idea.

“Actually I think I’m gonna tag along with Finn and Logan.” He smiles at James who shrugs and slaps his back before running off. Walking over to Finn, he looks down at Logan and gives Finn an ‘is he serious?’ look.

“He doesn’t want to be called short by all the hot cowboys and these are the tallest shoes he owns.” Sighing he looks back at Logan who is laying flat on the ground out of breath from fighting with his shoes. Reaching out he helps him up. “What’s up?”

“I’m gonna ride with you if that's fine.”

“Sounds good, let's go.” Finn skips to the car while Thomas and Logan walk side by side. Getting in the car, Thomas was squished into the backseat. As soon as the doors close he is asking questions.

“How did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Logan looks back at him as Finn starts the car. Thomas looks out his window watching the other cars pull out and start driving towards the gate.

“Know that three was the perfect number for you…” He looks back at them and sees them share a look for a moment, having a silent conversation before Logan climbs into the back with Thomas.

“It took us a long time to figure out, but we knew that Leo was for us because we could barely function as a couple without him. Like we could do it but, it just wouldn’t be the same. There was always something missing after we both started getting feelings for him.” Logan sighs a little. “It's hard to explain but it was like there was always a perfect Leo sized gap wherever we went. Once we both realized we wanted him, and he wanted us… it was a no brainer to ask him to be with us.”

“It’s definitely a feeling of loss when they leave and it's just you two together. So maybe it will cement your feelings when you get away from that person for a while. If they are the main topic of conversation when it's just you and Noelle… maybe three is the perfect number for you as well.” Finn smiles at him as he drives past the gate and follows the google map to the bar.

“What if we have already had time without them and.. We- I don’t know, we want to talk to them but I’m scared because.” He gulps and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Because I’ve never felt this way towards a guy before.” Finn blinks a couple of times and Logan nods, making a noise of understanding.

“ It’s a scary feeling at first, I freaked out for a long time until I finally met Finn. Then I freaked out even more and actually tried to leave the Frat. Then I finally let myself fall and I fell fast and in the stupidest way.” He laughs a little remembering when he realized he was in love with Finn. “Basically Finn had this mini basketball hoop in our dorm room the first year we had to share a room. Second semester I finally gave in to my desire for him. We had sex, honestly it was terrible because neither of us had any fucking clue what we were doing. But after, this bitch!” He starts laughing as Finn starts getting red on the tips of his ears from embarrassment. “He got up after like two minutes of cuddling because he had so much energy and started playing basketball! I was curled up in my duvet watching him with a sore ass, and a stupid smile… That's when I knew he was for me.” Smiling at Finn, just absolutely in love he turns to look at Thomas who is still laughing a little.

“I think I realized I liked… This person after they sent me a video of them playing a harmonica really annoyingly and another person in the car threw it out the window and he pulled another one out of his pocket.” Snickering, he smiles at them. “Thanks for not freaking out on me, Noelle told me to talk to you guys because she also really really likes Clay.” He realizes he just said the name he was trying to avoid and looks at them a little worried.

“It was pretty obvious how she was flirting with him all afternoon, and you just kind of watched and looked like a little puppy following them around.” Logan moves out of the way as Thomas tries to smack his arm and puts his hands up in surrender. “Sorry! Sorry! I meant like the big strong manly man you are.” Laughing, Finn pulls into a parking spot in front of the bar and shuts the car off.

Walking into the bar the smell of sweat and beer washed over them, making them scowl for a moment. They spot Reg talking to a blonde girl with a red cowgirl hat on. Leo and Clay are already hustling a game of pool with some people who look about the same age as them. The team made their way to the tab Reg was at and got comfortable. Ordering drinks and listening to music. Leo and Clay stopped by after losing $100 on the pool game. Chatting for a few moments when suddenly a sound like bagpipes came over the speakers.

Thomas watched as Clay's face completely lit up, dragging Leo out onto the dance floor. Everyone got into orderly lines and started stepping and dancing to the song all the same. It was mesmerizing. Thomas would be lying if he said he didn’t watch Clay completely lose himself in the music and didn’t have to take a drink to cure his cottonmouth. Especially when those goldish lights would land on them.

Making them even brighter than before, the lights giving Clay’s skin a bronze glow. When Clay pulled his tank top out of the waistband of his jeans, he choked on his beer. Patting his back Finn was chuckling as he watched Leo dance.

He moved so easily, like it was second nature, the dance didn’t look hard but Finn was known to have two left feet off the ice. The lights were amazing, making Leo’s hair poking out from under his hat look like gold leaf.

He was beautiful.

It was obvious that Leo and Clay were platonic soulmates, they mirrored every move perfectly. They had fun and acted like they were the only ones on the floor and whipping their heads back and forth to the beat of the music made Clay kick Leo by accident and he would just laugh.

Once the song was over Logan, Leo, Sirius, Thomas and Clay all went to smoke outside. Sirius and Thomas were out there to get some fresh air while Logan and Leo traded a cig back and forth. Clay puffed on his own and closed his eyes looking up to the sky. Hearing Footloose come on over the speakers Logan and Leo rushed inside because that was one song Logan actually knew how to dance to.

Leo joined him on the floor and would laugh but catch him anytime he would stumble with his boots. He would end up spinning Logan back into place and singing off key from behind him.

Reg was watching his friends as he spoke with Kuny about the wildly different styles of boots and hats people were wearing when a panicked looking Clayton came up to him. Grabbing his arm and walking towards the one dark lit corner of the bar and kicking a couple who was making out, out of the corner. He turns to Reg. Watching someone behind Reg walk towards the door and leave.

“You alright?”

“Thomas just kissed me…” Looking at him with wide eyes looking so lost, Reg grabs his arm to make sure he doesn’t bolt. “He kissed me and he has a girlfriend Reg! I- I’m not a homewrecker I swear!”

“Whoa whoa, hey Clay. Look at me.” Clay makes eye contact with him and starts to relax. “Thomas isn’t the type of person to just kiss someone out of nowhere, and I bet he is going to tell Noelle right away. It’s okay.”

“But Reg, I really like them… like in the way Leo likes both Logan AND Finn. I don’t want to lose them. I just figured it out the other night. I was never going to act on it because, its pretty fucking rare, but now Thomas did and- and what do I do!”

“How about we go and sit down for a couple of songs? Maybe dancing might help you out because it always seems to relax you. Okay?” Clay nods and follows Reg back to the table, after a few fidgeting moments he goes to the bar and orders a couple of shots and takes them all in a matter of seconds. Taking a deep breath he starts to relax. He feels a familiar hand run from his shoulder to his hip.

Ashley.

“Long time no see, huh.” She smiles a sly smile at him and leans her back on the bar. She was wearing a low spaghetti strap tank top and painted on blue jeans with red boots that look like Clay’s. He swallows a little. She did look good, and he was getting to be just drunk enough to be horny.

“What do you want?” She catches him looking at her boobs and smirks; he flushes red and turns around to also lean his back on the bar, looking out to the dance floor where some of the team has joined Leo in dancing to Hillbilly Bone by Trace Adkins. He looked at the table and noticed Reg staring directly at him.

“I just wanted to say hi, looks like you’ve really been taking care of yourself.” She feels his arm that he unintentionally flexes and she squeezes his muscle. He looks at Reg one last time, making his decision, he looks back at her and nods towards the door.

He leaves with her.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Reg watches him leave. Absolutely shocked. He gets up from the table and walks onto the floor, walking over to Leo he taps his shoulder. Leaning down so Reg can talk into his ear, Reg tells Leo exactly what happened.

Looking up and around the bar he can’t spot Clay anywhere, he excuses himself from the group and walks outside with Reg. Seeing Clay’s truck is still there they walk over to it and knock on the window before looking in. Empty. They left.

“Fuck. I’m texting Judy.” Leo does exactly that.

Leo, having taken a few drinks to calm down, lets himself relax. He was at a bar with his friends and boyfriends, he could have a little bit of fun. They all decided they were leaving in an hour anyway.

So when Fishing in the dark by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band starts he grabs Finn and pulls him close swaying to the beat of the music as he mumbles the words into his neck, still stressing about Clay leaving like that. Holding Finn as close to him as he could he let himself just forget about anything but the man in direct contact with his body.

Once the song had finished he stood there still holding Finn for an extra couple of moments, letting Finn kiss the top of his head, his hat being on Logan’s head who was sitting at the table because his feet hurt. They eventually pull apart and start back towards the table.

“Oh fucking Christ!” Leo sighs as he notices who has taken his chair at the table. Ashley’s brother and the Sheriff’s son. David. He walks over and stands next to the chair. “What the hell are you doing over here?”

“I’m socializing with some new people, you didn’t bring them. Why would they want anything to do with you?” He laughs and his lackeys on the other side of the chair also laugh and slap his shoulder.

“Actually they did come here with me.” He crosses his arms and the rest of the team is looking a little uncomfortable and confused. “So if you and your shithead friends would oh so kindly leave. I would appreciate it.” Narrowing his eyes David stands up in a way that is sizing Leo up. Leo raises an unimpressed brow because David is a good five inches shorter than him and a scrawny man.

“Do they know you’re a fucking faggot? That you’re a cockslut? A fairy?”

“Why do you think we are here?” James pipes up and the three idiots across the table look at him in shock.

“You’re a whore, I could never!” David looking back at Leo and jabbing a finger in his chest. Looking David up and down slowly with a cringed face he nods.

“Yeah, you couldn’t. Now, I believe I asked y'all to leave.” Leo points with his thumb behind him.

“You’re dad would be so proud.” Leo grabs him by the collar of his shirt and aggressively pulls him closer to him with a look of pure fury on his face.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said. you’re disgusting dad-” Leo is pulled away from David by Sirius.

“At least my dad wasn’t a murder!”

“AT LEAST MY DAD DIDN’T KILL HIMSELF!” Leo stops fighting against Sirius’ grip and calmly gets away from him, storming out the doors, kicking them open and walking towards his truck. Kicking rocks up and trying his best to hold himself together. Getting into his truck he slams the door and grips the steering wheel, pressing his forehead against the hot plastic and squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he can.

Minutes later Finn and Logan crawl into the truck in silence. Leo goes to apologize but they hush him and just give him understanding smiles and both of them cup one of his cheeks. He was so close to crying but he just couldn’t. Not in front of them, the people who are supposed to see him at his best.

Once they get home everyone goes to their rooms and Leo walks down behind the barn to the pond.

He spends the night by himself under his dad’s tree.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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jojoboisimagines · 3 years

Text

Josuke x Reader :: Promposal :: Ch. 5

previous chapter next chapter

summary: A strange new transfer student has enrolled in Budogaoka High School. Josuke falls head over heels for her, but has a limited time to win her over before the school prom.

.::.

The accusations thrown at Josuke by his baffled mother were hard to listen to, especially with your face practically burning from it and hearing only ringing in your ears from the shock alone and having to sit in the midst of the two arguing. You decided your best bet was to hurry, pack your stuff and leave. You’d maybe call him later to let him know why you left and tell him that your time together was great, lest he get the wrong idea.

It was easy to sneak past them. They did seem like the types to block everything else out when stubborn. Perhaps that's why some considered him and his friends delinquents.

.::.

About an hour later, you found yourself dialing Josuke’s number (or well, his house number) while lazily lying on the bed of your temporary apartment. He had written it at the bottom of his love letter, which you actually bothered to keep amongst all the other ones.

“Yeah, I see. Thanks for calling me instead of just leaving me hangin’.”

“No problem...I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.”

“No no”, he was quick to disagree, “It’s fine, my mom just gets fussy like that sometimes, its not your fault at all. To be fair I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You frowned. He shouldn’t have blamed himself. You weren’t being entirely courteous as a guest either to fall asleep on him like that. He spoke up before you could say anything about it.

“Did you have fun though---er, get a good study in? I know I did. Cleared up a lot of stuff I was missin’ during class. Thanks a lot for that!” You could hear the grin in his voice. Admittedly, he had a nice voice to listen to. But you convinced yourself that was just a supplementary compliment rather than you starting to have a school girl crush on him like the rest of his groupies.

You wondered what drew them to him in the first place. Was it his hair? It would seem like he’d take pride in having groupies if it was for that reason, being so uptight about his hairstyle and all. Yet he would always look so annoyed whenever they came up to him, so that probably wasn’t the reason. His personality? No, they hardly let him get a word in whenever they bombard him. His height?

...Fair assumption.

“Hey, (Y/N), you there?”

Crap, had you been spacing out?

“Yeah, I’m here.” You replied, rubbing your eyes.

“Do you have time tomorrow for ice cream after school? Its totally cool if you’re not, I understand.”

You did have a bit of studying to do to keep your grades up (and to keep up appearances, but that was less important) but keeping Josuke happy in your friendship did also mean something to you. Skipping one study session wouldn’t be that much of a deal, you could skim through it once you get home anyway.

“Oh no no, I’m down for it.”

Josuke’s tone noticeably turned up an octave after hearing that. “Cool! You wanna come by my house or I’ll come by yours?”

After saying he could pick you up from your own house (especially thinking about how Tomoko would react) he joyfully lets out a ‘sweet!’ and you exchange your goodbyes before hanging up.

One thing you could safely say about Josuke at this point is that he was certainly...interesting. If you had to weigh your options between giving everyone that sent you a letter an opportunity to court you and just only giving Josuke a chance for the time being, the latter set well with you far more.

.::.

Classes had passed by rather quickly. It almost seemed like a blur but you didn’t mind it. At first the thought of instantly going home and looking over the notes you took to refresh your memory came into your head, before Josuke and Okuyasu voices behind you made you realize what you had planned already. You had recognized the other two, but hadn’t bothered to hold a single conversation with either of them.

As far as you knew, they were just ‘the guy who looks like he’s still in elementary’ and ‘the guy that looks like he’s committed a crime before’.

However you would withhold your assumptions for the time being and attempt to get to know them truthfully. They seemed excited to see you, anyway.

“Glad to see you waited for us (y/n!)” Josuke happily said.

You didn’t really. But you forced a smile as if you did anyway.

Josuke stopped behind you and contemplated putting an arm around you like he would his other buddies, but decided against it, thinking maybe the two of you weren’t at that point yet. You didn’t exactly seem like the touchy type either. Instead his hand firmly rested on your shoulder, his face offering a kind, genuine smile towards you.

Gesturing toward his friends, he began to introduce them. “(Y/n), this is Okuyasu Nijimura and Koichi Hirose. They’ve kinda been excited to meet ya ever since we started hanging out.” Josuke lets out quite the cute chuckle as his free hand finds itself sheepishly behind his neck now.

“Yo!” Okuyasu was quick to greet you with quite possibly the biggest grin you’ve seen anyone sport since you’ve gotten to this country. Koichi on the other hand seemed a little more calm and reserved, saying a simple ‘hello!’ with a wave.

They didn’t seem too bad now as you had thought before, but you’d keep your eye on them. After the introduction Josuke had mentioned that itd be wise to get to the ice cream truck as soon as possible, seeing that it might leave the neighborhood soon. You still were a bit unfamiliar with the area, so you followed behind the other three and let them lead the way.

.::.

When the four of you finally arrived to the spot of the parked vehicle, you had just noticed that you’d tuned out the conversation that was had on the way here. Now that you think about it, Okuyasu was pretty swift to wrap an arm around his taller friend’s shoulder and immediately start talking about something else. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you had thought Josuke would’ve been inclined to talk to you during the brief walk. That’s what you were invited for, right? Or is this just what he does with all his friends?

The lack of attention didn’t bother you that badly, as you’re generally used to it, but you still couldn’t help but wonder.

You had walked up to the window to get your own ice cream, before Koichi promptly stopped you, pulling out his own wallet.

“Hey, I can pay for your ice cream for you!”

You blinked, not exactly sure how you were supposed to respond to that. “It’s alright, you don’t have to.”

“No I insist! Don’t worry about it okay?” The small boy smiled at you, a face that was pretty hard for you to resist. Giving a slight nod, he proceeded to pay for it. You did get the biggest size they offered though, who’s to say you couldn’t after he graciously agreed to pay?

You and Koichi walked back to the others, already sitting down in the park with the ice creams and chatting. As you were making your way over there, Josuke looked back at the two of you, his happy grin melding into a guilty wide-eyed frown.

He turned back around when you and his other friend walked past the bench he and Okuyasu sat on to go to another one across from them. Without even glancing at him, you started to eat your ice cream. From the corner of your eye you could see the pompadoured teen lightly tap his clueless friend, motioning them to move to the same bench you and Koichi were.

Trying to prevent things from becoming awkward, Josuke immediately started talking to you as he sat down. “So, (Y/n), is that your favorite flavor?”

You nodded, not trying to get distracted from your melting ice cream.

“Cool, I like that flavor too. I really really like strawberry though, especially the kind they have at the truck.”

“Strawberry’s a good flavor.” Okuyasu chimed in. “But Koichi likes nasty shit, like pistachio. Bleh!” He stuck his tongue out to emphasize his disgust. The shorter teen was slightly offended.

“Hey, its good with the right toppings! At least I don’t bombard my ice cream with everything, if you’re careless like that, you’ll get a cavity!”

Oku dismissively waved his hand. “Whatever. I’ll just go to Tonio’s again and it’ll be good as new, so there’s no problem!” He grinned.

Koichi sighed, and you were left wondering what kind of place “Tonio’s” was.

“Oh right, we need to take (Y/n)-chan there someday!” Josuke added. “Maybe we should do a little tour thing of Morioh for you, would you like that?”

You happily nodded, almost at the end of your ice cream. The three of them had gotten along so naturally

Eventually everyone else got done with theirs and began to throw everything away. Koichi had started on his way home, saying that he was going to start on his studying before his goodbye. Thinking you should do the same, Josuke walked in front of you.

“Hey me and Okuyasu are gonna hang at my house, so we can walk you home first okay?”

“Okay.” Probably the first time you said something in about an hour. You saw Okuyasu about to walk up with Josuke again, but was stopped immediately and whispered something by Josuke. After which, he hung behind the two of you for the remainder of the walk.

When your apartment was reached, The boys asked if you enjoyed yourself and you happily responded with yes and that you’d love to hang out again, before going up the stairs and waving goodbye.

The two of them stood there for a while, making sure you were safe up until you got inside the house. As you closed the door, Josuke let out a groan and his head sunk into his hands. Okuyasu, obviously concerned by this, put a hand on his shoulder.

“Bro? You okay?”

Jojo shook his head. “Ughh..I can’t believe I let that happen. She must’ve felt so left out. I didn’t even pay enough attention that Koichi paid for her stuff..god..That didn’t look good at all.”

“Hey, you’re not obligated to treat her like a queen or anythin’. You’re still just friends right now right?” He tried to reassure his downtrodden friend.

“Yeah but...I still feel like a dick. I invited her there..Plus there’s also the fact that she’s got a limited time here in Morioh..” His blue eyes widened after saying that statement, the realization just now hitting him. It was so silent all the boys could hear was the slight breeze ruffling the trees.

“Huh, now that I think about it, why are you tryin’ to woo someone who’s a transfer student? Seems kinda rough to get someone to fall for you in a few weeks...unless you’re Yukako.”

“Goddammit Okuyasu, I don’t get to choose who I fall in love with!”

His fist balled up again, lips going dry as he resented saying things before thinking about them first.

“Woah...Josuke..”

Before he could say anything else, the teens noticed a slight shift in the window blinds where a light was on in your apartment.

‘Holy crap, i hope thats not her, i’d shit myself if it is!’

“C-C’mon Okuyasu, lets get out of here, I-I’ll race you!” He bolted down the sidewalk in the direction of his house, with his best friend in tow.

It was you who had peeked out the window from your living room, but only because you were startled by the sound of someone shouting. You didn’t see anyone when you fully pulled the blinds back, must’ve been your imagination. Putting the window back as it was, you returned to your studying.

#josuke x reader #Josuke Higashikata #josuke imagine #josuke higashikata x reader #jjba x reader #jjba imagine #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

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mendesblurb · 3 years

Text

WHERE IS THE LOVE

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning: fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors and maybe typos

GIF Credits to owner and maker @tannerandthesociety-backup

It felt like it was just yesterday when you were a new transfer student entering a high school in Toronto.

You were forced to relocate to another country because your dad was offered a promotion at work. You were so happy when he conveyed the news even though you were a little sad that you had to move to another country.

First day of school was tough as nobody wanted to get to know the new kid. You were about to give up when a group of guys asked whether they could sit with you during lunch.

Because you were lonely and desperate for friends you said yes. Those guys were Shawn,Brian and Connor. Soon the four of you became inseparable, you see the thing is for other people at the school they were the three weirdos and now you were their newest member.

The three of you were there from the beginning of Shawn's music career. You were there when his vine blew up and you were all so proud when stitches went trending.

Fast forward to now, you are currently on a summer break from university and what better way to spend your break than joining your best friend’s world tour.

Today you were off to the land of the rising sun aka Japan. As soon as you reach your seat, all you want you to do is take a nap. But unfortunately that was just impossible as you were sitting in next to Brian and Connor.

“Guys please let me sleep.” You whinnied

“Nope, Y/N you're so busy with boring University assignments and now we can finally catch up with each other .” Brian said

“Hey Y/N, what’s stopping you two?” Connor asked

“What do you mean?” You said in lazy tone and eyes still closed

“Let me rephrase it for you my dear, do you or do you not still have feelings for Shawn?” Connor said cheekily

You opened your eyes immediately and said, “Connor wtf?” You said while elbowing him

“Owww, but seriously that sounds like a yes to me, right Brian?” Connor said

“Uhm without a doubt.” Brian nod his head

“Look Y/N, all I’m saying is It will be a dream come true if you and Shawn finally decide to take your friendship to the next level.” Connor said

“What are you trying to say Con, stop giving me riddles.” You whined

“All I’m saying is I know our Shawnie like you too and I have a plan to make him confess his feelings to you.” Connor said

“Whatever brilliant plan you think you have, I don’t want to know because whatever feelings I have towards him will just ruin our friendship.” You replied

“Cmon Y/N, please!” He said while giving you his puppy eyes

“I just don’t want to ruin our friendship, Con.” you said

“I pinky promise, your friendship won’t be ruined.” He said

“Fine, tell me your so-called amazing plan” you replied

“Brian, will you do the honours of explaining the plan to this amazing lady here.” Connor said

“ it would be my pleasure.” He said while giggling

The next few hours flew by and soon you were arriving at theHaneda Airport. Upon arriving the four of you and all the crew rushed to the hotel.

————The next morning———————————-

“Good morning Y/N and Con.” Shawn said in a clearly still sleepy face

Shawn was sleepy but not blind as he saw his 2 best friends standing rather close to each other. Connor’s hand was wrapped around your waist and his face was buried in your neck.

“Oh hey Shawn, didn’t see you there.” You said and immediately you turned your attention back to Connor and he whispered to your ear,”pretend I said something funny and you loved it.” In response you just giggled and Completely ignored Shawn.

Shawn felt annoyed and decided to go and find Brian. After spotting Brian, Shawn decided to approach his table.

Shawn plopped on the seat next to

Brian, resting his head in one of his hands while the other aggressively stabbed the watermelon in his bowl with a fork.

“Dude, don’t blame the watermelon when you have a jetlag!” Brian said

"I am not jetlag" Shawn mumbled through gritted teeth and annoyed expression, lifting his eyes to look at you again, gripping the fork tighter when he saw who you were with.

Brian followed his friend's eyes, and he was crossing his fingers and hoping his plan worked when his eyes landed on you. But for now he just sighed and put his hand on Shawn’s shoulder, to somehow give him support over the image of his two best friends acting all flirty toward one another.

You made your way through the hotel restaurant to find Brian’s table while holding Connor’s hand. This was part of the whole plan, you and Connor had to act all flirty with each other during breakfast.

Hey guys" You playfully greeted, reaching the table, a big smile on your face as you sat across from them.

Before Connor could sit down next yo you, he got a phone call from Andrew saying that he needs to finish editing the video now so he excused himself and went back to his room.

"Hi Y/n" Brian happily replied, lightly nudging Shawn’s elbow when he didn't say anything.

Your smile instantly replaced by a frown, when you noticed Shawn was just focused on his watermelon , avoiding your gaze. By now you wonder, whether the plan actually worked because the last thing you want is to ruin your friendship.

"So how did you guys sleep?" You awkwardly asked, focusing your curious eyes on Brian, waiting for him to tell you what was going on with Shawn.

“Uh ... not much but managed to get 6 hours" Brian said. "So, when did you get all lovey dovey with Connor?" He asked to take the attention away from Shawn, but he mentally he knew that's probably the last thing Shawn wants to hear right now.

"Oh last night Connor confessed his feelings and I said I felt the same" You smiled back again, meanwhile Shawn just choked at his glass of milk.

By now Shawn was coughing and you quickly asked, “ Shawn you okay, here have my water.”

“I’m good Y/N, thanks.” Shawn replied but still avoiding your meet your eye

“He confessed his feelings and now you guys are showing all the PDA" He teased in a mocking tone making you frown for the second time, because it wasn't a sarcastic mocking tone, it was a mean mocking tone.

"I mean he is proud to say that He has feelings for me and now he just wants other people to know about our love too so I will say it’s a sweet gesture he likes and I really enjoy it too" You defended yourself, and Shawn just chuckled.

"I'm pretty sure that's just a rebound,I mean we're talking about Connor, He makes everyone think he has moved on from his ex and Y/n, I'm sure he just wants to have a tour fling to show his ex." Shawn proudly said

"So you're saying I'm just some fling for him?" You asked, ignoring the way your heart ached from Shawn who was thinking so low of your other best friend.

"What I'm saying is the guy still constantly talks about his ex , so my advice is you shouldn't be that excited about your new relationship status because he'll just end up going back to his ex.” He stated while obviously still clouded by jealousy.

"Seriously why can’t you be happy that I end up with Connor, Mendes" You painfully said, before getting up from the table and leaving your bowl of cereal behind and you went back to your room.

Jealousy could trigger many things and you certainly didn’t expect Shawn would say that about Connor.

“Mendes, when was the last time she called you that?” Brian said

Mendes, you only call him that whenever you are upset with him. And now he realised that he too was blinded by the jealousy that he didn’t monitor all the words coming out of his mouth.

“ You know what I still can’t believe, I am still surprised that a guy like you could write so many songs but can never truly say anything to the person who inspired all the songs.” Brian shook his head in disapproval and left Shawn all alone at the hotel restaurant.

…………………….Later at rehearsal…………………..

Part B of the plan was for you and Connor to arrive together at the rehearsal but also you need to arrive a little late to build some type of tension, at least this theory was stated by Brian.

“Okay everyone let’s take 5, before we start.” Shawn said to the band, “Brian where‘s Y/N?” He asked

“I don’t know probably, with Connor.” Brian replied

After rehearsing for 2 songs you finally arrived at the venue with Connor.

Usually during all rehearsals or concerts you will give your full attention to Shawn and after every song you would give him a thumbs up and clap for him.

Today however it was different as he looked across the stage he saw you sitting in Connor’s lap and giggling at his cheesy jokes.

Shawn felt heartbroken when he saw you, his girl, well not exactly, his girl that isn't his but is his ... the girl he loved forever... anyway, when he saw you laugh with someone that wasn't him his heart instantly dropped.

Especially when that someone was Connor Brashier, I mean he knew that Connor was aware of his feelings toward you and he didn’t expect this type of betrayal from Connor of all people.

———- The day of the concert——————————

Today was the big day, usually Shawn felt excited because he was about to meet all his fans but today he couldn’t concentrate, he kept thinking whether things could turn out differently if he confessed his feelings sooner. Would you feel the same? One thing for sure is he would be on cloud nine if you felt the same way he did.

“Shawn, you ready?” Andrew asked

“Yeah, yeah sure.” He said clearly distracted

“Hey.” You said entering the dressing room

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Shawn asked

“Am I not allowed to wish my best friend a goodluck?” You asked.

“Whatever Y/N just go and be with Connor.” He said

“Look Shawn I think there’s something you should know.”

“Look Y/N, I need to focus on rehearsing my lyrics so please don’t distract me.”

“Shawn I’m sorry if I ever was a distraction, I’ll be outside if you need me.” You said trying to hold back your tears

“Y/N wait! I’m sorry I didn’t mean that it’s just you’re a distraction because dammit I am in love with you and I understand that you’re with Connor now and I just think you should know how I feel about you .” He said

“Shawn I’m not with Connor, I mean the whole thing was them trying to prove to me that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way towards you… the truth is I have loved you since high school if I’m being honest.” You confessed

The next few minutes was a blur as Shawn got up from his seat to kiss you…. what you didn’t know was that the dressing room door was open and Connor and Brian were standing there.

Seeing that Brian grabbed the door handle and closed the door.

Standing at the side stage, Connor happily said, “we did it bro.”

“Damn right we did.” Brian sighed happily and they fist bumped each other.

@itsalwaysbeen305

#Shawn #Shawn mendes #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes oneshot #Shawn mendes stories

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zoyalais-moved · 3 years

Text

Going Back the Way We’ve Come

World: modern au, lawyers au

Ship: Zoyalai

Word Count: 7785

AO3

Zoya set her briefcase on her desk, taking a moment to remove her coat and glance at the paperwork that’s been left there by her secretary, Genya, before speaking.

"The sign outside says Zoya Nazyalensky, so unless you’re my long lost twin, I suggest you leave," she said, investigating a folder that had been tossed onto her desk. Zoya picked it up, paging through it for a moment.

"Would you really let a long lost twin into your office, Nazyalensky?" Lantsov’s irritatingly smooth voice responded. Zoya lowered the folder enough to glare at him.

"No, but if you were, I would have liked to see you in my office. Gauge the competition."

Lantsov’s brows went up in easy surprise, but he made no move to leave, one leg thrown over the other, as if more comfortable here on her couch than anywhere else. And now she was left wondering why Genya let him into her office at all, when she was usually so careful about who goes in and out. Perhaps she thought Zoya might have grown tolerant of her insufferable co-worker.

Saints, was she wrong.

"So, what is it you want?" she asked, dropping the folder onto her desk and making a mental note to remind Genya not to accept cases without her explicit approval.

"Just the pleasure of being greeted with your scowl at 7 am" he cocked his head at her, a grin spreading over his face. "That’s the one!"

Zoya rolled her eyes, "you’re here to waste my time then? Lantsov, some of us have actual work to attend to."

He snorted, "the Sobol case? Please, if you needed time to solve that one you wouldn’t be at this firm."

Zoya crossed her arms, leaning back against her desk so he could feel the full force of her glare, "how do you know about that one?"

She’d only just gone through the file herself, and Lantsov can’t have arrived more than five minutes ago.

He glanced at his watch once before standing up and straightening the jacket of his suit, that ever-present grin still on his face, "because I’m the one who rejected it."

Great. Now she was getting Lantsov’s reject cases? This would not do at all.

"And you came to boast about a much better one, I take it?" she tried not to sound too resentful.

"There’s always something to boast about—in this case, the pool going about which of us will make senior partner."

This caught Zoya’s attention, and she straightened, her eyes going wide. She had suspected for some time that a senior partner would be chosen soon. She hadn't expected to have any competition, though. But it seemed he’d only come to drop a bomb and see how she responded to it, because his hazel eyes swept her with a calculated look, turned almost amused.

Zoya had wanted this position ever since she’d come to the firm—because it meant she wasn’t a replaceable part in the firm. It confirmed that she was the greatest. Nikolai Lantsov would not be the one to take that from her.

"how do you even hear about these things?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I have my ways," Lantsov said with a shrug, glancing again at his watch again before starting towards the door. She had wanted him gone since he'd appeared but now she wanted to smack him for leaving without giving her more details.

He paused at the door, turning to give her another self-assured grin, his words punctuated with a wink, "It’ll be a pleasure to beat you again, Nazyalensky."

His head disappeared seconds before the briefcase hit the office door.

Here’s how Zoya remembers it.

She had just been hired as an associate to the firm, fresh out of law school—first in her year, naturally. Juris had been her mentor, had been the one to shape her into who she was now, the greatest lawyer in the country.

That is, until the young attorney from the Lantsov firm was the opposing counsel during her very first case—and her first loss.

The one thing Juris was sure to remind Zoya of was this: never underestimate your opponent.

But once she’d discovered that her first case would be against Nikolai Lantsov, ivy league graduate, and spoiled rich boy working for his dad, Zoya hadn’t let the possibility of loss even cross her mind.

Which had been her first mistake.

Her second, the one she would spend so long regretting, was thinking that justice was ever served in the courtroom.

Her client had been innocent, which somehow hurt even more than Zoya’s pride when the evidence started stacking up against her. But Nikolai Lantsov had arrived ten minutes late and wooed both judge and jury to his favor even before he began presenting his evidence.

Which had also been the first time Zoya had witnessed his shift. It was the moment those sparkly eyes turned from arrogant to clever. He had called on his witnesses. And then on her’s. And then on her client. And then he’d grilled each of them until he twisted a new, elaborate story into their view.

And by the time it was Zoya’s turn to defend her client, their minds had been made. She had lost before she had the chance to even begin.

To make matters worse, once the gavel had banged, sentencing her client to eight years in prison, Nikolai Lantsov had strolled up to stand beside a struck Zoya, eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Am I your first?" he almost sounded excited, "You never forget your first."

He would have been right, even if she had never had the misfortune of seeing him again. But three months later, a new attorney had transferred to their firm, and the second Zoya had met those hazel eyes again, she knew she would spend every moment of her life making up for that loss.

"Why was this on my desk?"

Zoya dropped the stack of folders onto Genya’s desk, right on top of her phone, which was open on a video call to what appeared to be a mess of brown hair with glasses just visible underneath. David.

Genya sighed dramatically, fluttering her lashes at Zoya prettily, "I know you aren’t the smart one around, Zo, but use context clues."

"No, why are there eight cases I know even you could win on my desk, Genya." she replied, folding her arms and glaring at the red-head, who was now busy digging out her phone from beneath the piles of paper. Then something occurred to Zoya, "wait, is this because of the pool? Are you trying to up my wins with kiddy cases so I’ll get it?"

Genya dropped her phone, eyes going wide, "you know about that?"

"About the pool? Of course, I do, Lantsov told me."

"He… he just told you?" Genya’s penciled brows drew together in either shock or surprise, or some mix of the two.

Zoya quirked a brow, "don’t change the topic, Safin. Get me some real cases and stop letting Lantsov into my office."

Genya blinked twice before plastering on a smile, "of course, Your Highness."

Zoya didn’t miss the few choice words muttered to David as she walked away.

The only issue Zoya had with clients was that they were a nuisance.

But then so was half of humanity, and at least these paid her for her wasted time.

In this case, though, she just wished they would arrive at the set time. Zoya had been waiting at the cafe for nearly an hour, a now-empty cup of coffee in hand. She clicked her phone on to check the time. An hour and ten minutes.

Maybe I’ll just put him out of his misery and let him join his dead wife, she considered. Zoya thought she would make an excellent criminal—she, at least, would never get caught.

"Shall we order?"

Zoya’s gaze snapped up and met a pair of hazel eyes. The Saints had chosen hell for her today, she knew, as he settled in the chair across from her.

"Lantsov, disappear, I’m working," she said, picking up her phone and making a good show of being very, very busy. She could feel his calculating gaze on her but refused to acknowledge it. She texted Genya.

Z: who’s winning?

G: me, at any given point.

G: but if you mean the pool, it’s even.

Z: hm. who’s your money on?

G: technically both ;)

Z: I’m your boss, Safin

G: wtvr. give Nikolai a kiss for me ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Zoya rolled her eyes. Genya could be nearly as insufferable as Lantsov on some days. Lantsov, who currently had his head propped up on his hands, pouting in her direction. Zoya huffed—did he even realize how messy he looked then? His golden hair looked like he’d run a hand through it a dozen or so times that morning, and he was in a blue short-sleeve button-down and jeans. It occurred to Zoya that she’d never actually seen Nikolai outside of work. Never in anything less than a twelve hundred dollar suit. He looked good.

"Who’s making the great Zoya Nazyalensky blush?" came his teasing voice, intruding on her thoughts. Was it her imagination or was there an edge to even his casual tone?

She shook her head, setting aside her phone and forcing all thoughts of messy golden hair out of her head.

"None of your business," she snapped, "and you need to leave before my client shows up."

"Why’s that?" he asked, cocking his head to the side like a lost puppy.

"Because I need plausible deniability when I strangle him for being this late."

He surprised her with a hearty laugh. Then he was sitting upright, leaning across the table as if to whisper a grave secret, "well isn’t it great that you could have me as your defense attorney?"

Zoya almost smiled, but the words tugged at something in her memory, making something in her chest tighten. "Who else would defend a guilty person with such conviction?"

Nikolai looked taken aback, a flash of hurt crossing his features, but Zoya had already stood up, making up her mind to leave and grabbing her briefcase.

"I have things to do," she said, not glancing at him as she plucked her phone from the table and turned to leave. She knew without looking back that he hadn’t moved long after she’d left him.

Back at the firm, Zoya made everyone aware of her presence with the rhythmic clicking of her heels. Mainly Genya, as she stopped in front of her desk, located just beside Zoya’s enclosed office, and dropped a few forms in front of her.

"Fill those out for me, and call back Antonov- since he didn’t bother to show up today, I’ll be working late. Which means you’ll be working late. And find me some coffee before I end up on trial for murdering someone in this building."

Genya glanced at the forms in front of her, toying with a strand of hair, "oh, he called and rescheduled for tomorrow. Said he had some business to attend to."

Zoya had reached her office door and paused in front of it, turning to glare fully at Genya, "and you didn’t think to mention that?"

She shrugged innocently, "slipped my mind."

"Two coffees, Safin." she managed to grind out, "and quit telling Lantsov where to find me."

She ignored Genya’s protest, marching into her office with even more anger on her mind than there was before. Zoya tossed aside her belongings, slumping onto the couch across her desk.

She had less than two weeks to prove herself worthy to become senior partner, or Nikolai Lantsov would become her boss. Somehow even losing to him hadn’t felt as horrible as the idea of working for him. Worse than that, she knew he was a good attorney. She’d attended dozens of his court cases, hidden in the back rows, as well as spoken to old clients. And he had already had that position at his old firm, the same one he’d left to work here instead only three years prior.

Zoya wanted to believe she was the only one for the role, but Lantsov was a competition like nothing she'd dealt with before. The single person she couldn’t decide how to feel about until today.

You never forget your first.

Saints, he was right.

By the time the words on her screen began to blur together, it was past midnight, and Zoya was still inside her office, still trying to scrape together a good defense for a client that couldn't even provide decent evidence. She sighed, tearing off her glasses and rubbing at her tired eyes.

Saints, when had she last slept a full night?

Coffee. I need coffee.

There was probably some at the cafeteria, she considered, ready to call out for Genya. But through the glass walls of her office, she could see the dark corridor, and Genya's empty seat. She'd forgotten that she'd sent Safin home early.

Zoya sighed, forcing her legs to stand. She slipped on an extra pair of sneakers she kept in her office rather than her heels. It was far too late for that, and besides, no one would be around to hear her.

The cafeteria was just down the hall to the left, and Zoya was almost never there. She preferred having her food in her office, or going out to eat. And Genya provided everything else. She really deserves a raise , Zoya considered, making her way down the dark hall.

The lights were dim and Zoya didn't bother turning them on, making out the vague shape of the cabinets and a refrigerator, the coffee machine was located just beside the old microwave that had been there since she'd first come to the firm. Someone must have made coffee hours ago, the machine was half full and the glass was cool to the touch. Zoya sighed, feeling for a mug and pouring it inside, too tired to make more.

She sipped at her cold coffee, which did little to prevent her eyes from dragging downward, her mind from straying.

Right now, she needed to find at least two witnesses that would be willing to account for her client. Only, Antonov had not exactly been well-liked, and his pitiful relationship with his wife seemed to be common knowledge. While hate can't by any means be considered proof of his guilt in her murder, it certainly made for good motive.

Especially if somebody needed him out of the scene .

A sudden crash sounded, almost making Zoya drop her mug, heart pounding in her chest. She frowned, setting it down and slowly walking closer to the source. But the halls were empty, and what little she could see was just a bunch of abandoned cubicles where the associates worked. The only other office on this floor was…

She crossed the hall, turning right just as another crash sounded, this time shattering into a million little pieces.

With Nikolai Lantsov standing over them.

Zoya watched for a moment as he pressed his hands together around his nose, shut his eyes tight.

Saints .

His office was a mess. His normally disorganized desk had been sweeped clear, all the junk he kept there now littering the floor around him. Papers and files, an open briefcase, a broken vase all around him. She watched him run a hand through his hair in frustration, his shoulders heaving with nearly palpable rage.

And she'd forgotten glass walls worked both ways.

He froze when he first caught sight of her, but Zoya must've had on a similarly shocked expression as well. For a second neither of them moved, and then she crossed the hall to his office and opened the door, not sure what she was doing there, but certain that he should not be left alone right now.

The mess was far worse up close, and Nikolai Lantsov seemed to be the worst of it. His normally perfect attire was torn, his shirt wrinkled and the buttons only half done. His tie seemed to have suffered the fit of anger, now left abandoned on the ground. And the source of the first crash appeared to be his shoe, since only one currently covered his foot, the other lost somewhere in the mess.

He swallowed, his throat bobbing, "I thought everyone had left."

Zoya raised both brows at him, "so you thought you'd ransack your own office? Just for sport?"

Nikolai sighed, his eyes taking in the room for the first time. " Saints ," he breathed, but made no move to pick anything up.

Zoya shrugged, turning to dust some glass off the very nice set of couches in his office and taking a seat.

"I'm not here to help you clean," she informed him.

The ghost of his usual smile twitched at his lips, "no? Then why are you here?"

Zoya paused, not quite sure how to respond. Because you're supposed to be perfect. Because if you aren't then what on earth am I?

She shrugged, "just be glad for the company, Lantsov."

He nodded, allowing it, and then chose to sit on the single couch beside her, not bothering to check for any shards before slumping into it.

She watched perfect Nikolai Lantsov, son of Alexander Lantsov, golden boy, mock trial champion, and ivy league graduate completely fall apart. And somehow she got no relief from it. Somehow, it didn't make her feel any better than before.

"So, who's winning?" She asked. His eyes snapped to her, wide and haunted. There were dark smudges under his eyes that she hadn't noticed that morning.

"What?" He managed, still looking shaken.

"Senior partner. Any news on that? I'm guessing everyone is betting on you, since you're the office favorite." She said. He looked tired. Lost. But they weren't even friends, barely co-workers that couldn't stand to be around each other. Surely he didn't want to discuss whatever this was with her .

So why did she want him to?

Realization dawned on him and a wave of something akin to guilt washed over his features.

"Oh, Nazyalensky." He muttered, shaking his head. He didn't elaborate further.

Zoya was not going to ask. They didn't ask each other these things. She didn't ask who he'd gone out with or why he'd left his father's firm. He didn't ask about where she'd come from or why she never went home in the summer. Asking wasn't their thing.

And yet. "Any particular reason you took it out on the office?"

Nikolai slumped further into his chair, his messy golden hair catching the dim light of his office, making his features seem almost ghostly. She'd never seen him like this, and it was partly scary, but also partly relieving. As though this were some revelation that he was, in fact, human.

"I won't tell you it's going to be okay, Lantsov. I'm a criminal attorney, I've seen the shit this world pulls people through. I've seen how many don't make it out. But right now, I'm here, so you can either wallow alone in your misery, or be glad of the fact that I bothered to ask to begin with."

He blinked at her with some surprise, and then huffed a laugh. "Alright then," he said, nodding to himself, "I just found out my father's going on trial. And I've been tasked to be the attorney against him."

Whatever sharp words Zoya had been preparing abandoned her in an instant. She frowned, "I wasn't aware you were a big fan of the guy."

Nikolai laughed, "no, but I'm not exactly thrilled to be the one to try and put him behind bars. Especially not if he has Vasya represent him— the man can't work his way around a car, but he's a snake in court. I'm not even sure I can win a case like this, even if my clients are the victims."

Zoya nodded, her mind trying to make connections. She'd heard of the case against the Lantsov firm, women stepping forward about sexual harassment in the workplace. She hadn't realized who it was, or how Nikolai would somehow be dragged into it.

"You're an idiot, you know." She informed him.

Nikolai blanched, looking at her with confusion. Zoya gave him a one-shouldered shrug, "you're the best attorney here, Lantsov, as much as I hate to admit it. You've beaten me , and I thought I was the best. So quit worrying about your own competence and concern yourself with how awkward Christmas is going to be from now on."

He laughed with surprise, his hazel eyes almost returning to their normal gleam.

"Nazyalensky, I-"

"No, those were not compliments. You're the best until I make senior partner or you somehow become unlucky enough to oppose me in court again, which I doubt will happen in the near future. I haven't lost a single case in the full five years I've been practicing," she caught his gaze and leaned forward so her last words were very clear. "And that record won't change."

Nikolai considered her, his eyes flicking over her face. She wasn't sure when the space between them had become so little, just that they were closer now. Just that her heart was beating faster now.

"Well," he said softly, close enough that his words brushed against her cheek, making her lashes flutter, "imagine how it feels knowing I was the only one to beat you."

She let her lips curve into a smirk, and whispered, "don’t get used to it."

Then she was standing, forcing her gaze away from him and marching out of the office. It was probably time to go home by then, but with the way her heart was beating and the heat in her cheeks, the only thing Zoya wanted to do was keep her mind off of Lantsov, and on anything else.

Witnesses were a pain in the ass. They were all so saint-forsaken weak when it came to testifying. She saw the way Nikolai dealt with them, the one time they’d had to work together for a case. He played every part they needed— flirtatious attorney, gentle soul, rich golfing guy, drinks-on-me, and somehow they all worked.

Zoya had exactly one method of dealing with people in general: scaring the shit out of them.

And that worked, too.

"That’s the court date. I will see you on that day, won’t I Mrs. Krupin? Without a subpoena order this time."

The woman bobbed her head in understanding, and Zoya tried not to roll her eyes until she had turned around fully and began walking away. She needed this case out of the way so she could sleep. Or focus on other things.

Like last night. Like Nikolai Lantsov.

She shoved aside the thought, but her steps had barely gotten her out of the park when her phone rang. Of all the people…

"Make it quick, make it short." she answered swiftly.

"That’s no way to speak to your favorite co-worker," said Nikolai on the other end, but even she could tell his humor was strained.

"Oh, sorry Alina I didn’t realize this was you,"

"Very funny," said Nikolai dryly. "Listen, would you mind meeting me real quick? I could use some advice about yesterday's dilemma."

Zoya stopped walking, figuring a taxi wasn’t worth hailing if she was just going to turn back to the firm. She sighed, "and why would I choose to help you instead of take a well-deserved nap?"

"Coffee on me?"

Zoya considered this. "And cake."

She could practically hear his smile, "and cake."

"What do you mean Friday?" Zoya nearly dropped her cup in surprise.

Nikolai winced, "I may have let this gather dust on my desk for a few weeks when I saw my father’s name on it. I had no idea what the file actually contained."

Zoya stared at him, trying to figure out how someone so well put together could also be so stupid. And have such stupidly nice hair.

"I’m going to try very hard not to strangle you right now, Lantsov." she said, shaking her head.

Nikolai pushed the plate with a slice of half-eaten chocolate cake towards her with a grin, "that’s what the cake is for."

She sighed, dipping her fork back for another bite. He was very lucky this place made the best cake.

"Okay, well give me some good news. Have you talked to anyone from the firm yet?" she asked.

Nikolai sighed, leaning back in his chair and making a good show of appearing very comfortable, and totally at ease. "I can’t do that."

Zoya froze, "you can’t what?"

"I can’t go to the office—legally, I can’t even step foot inside."

Zoya watched him, searching for signs to discredit this fact. But Nikolai was a perfect actor, she’d discovered as much on their very first trial. He could be completely terrified and still smile and crack a joke.

Not last night. Not with me.

"What about the people? Have Isaak find you their numbers, maybe if you ask them to meet you—"

"I tried that," said Nikolai, "and that led to a much bigger problem."

"Which is?" Zoya was almost afraid to ask.

"None of them want to testify. They’re willing to give anonymous statements, but that’s as far as they can be pushed." he sighed, a crease forming between his brows. "They’re scared of him, Zoya, far too scared to actually do anything. And anyone who wasn’t directly harmed by the man is too afraid of losing their jobs to say anything helpful. In every way, it’s a losing case, and it’ll be on my head."

Zoya tapped her fingers restlessly against the table, watching him.

"Why’d you leave?" she asked finally.

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"Why did you leave your father’s firm. You had a good position there, you were definitely making more money, and I know you aren’t some schoolboy desperate for independence. So, why?"

Nikolai sighed, straightening in his seat. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she was growing to appreciate, and also take note of. He was nervous.

His hazel eyes focused on her, and there was something of a secret behind the natural gleam. "I was fired."

Whatever Zoya had been expecting, that had certainly not been it.

"What?"

"Yeah," he said, his gaze roving over the cafe around them, words dropping lower, "about a month after my case against you, something happened with one of the secretaries. With what I know now, it must have been a similar situation, but I had no clue back then. Still, something smelled off, and I had to know. I just had to."

Zoya couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward as he grew more intent, animating his words with his hands.

"My honest guess was that my dad had dropped her salary, or had bullied her out of the job—you never had the displeasure of meeting him, but it wasn’t uncommon. Only, he wouldn’t tell me, and Vasya seemed aware of whatever it was, but it was all so far under wraps the most I got out was her name. We got into it, me and my father, and I did what every reasonable attorney does when faced with matters regarding the law. I threatened to sue."

He swallowed, throat bobbing. "I never got the chance to. Not long after, I had transferred to your firm," a smile twitched at his lips, "hard to forget the last time someone really gave you a run for your money."

"In case you forgot, I lost that day," Zoya said, but it was the first time she’d recounted the memory without copious amounts of rage.

"That didn’t make you any less of a good opponent," he said, his bright eyes swearing his words were true. Zoya hoped the heat in her cheeks was from the sun.

Then something seemed to click in Nikolai’s mind, and she could practically see he cogs in his brain working, "oh, Saints,"

Zoya frowned as he rushed to stand, snatching his briefcase from the chair, a wide grin spreading over his features.

"Nikolai, what is it?"

"Two good things just happened, Zoya," he announced proudly, "the first? I figured out exactly how I’m going to win."

Zoya crossed her arms, looking him over once. She raised a brow.

"And the second?"

Nikolai gave her his most charming grin, as though he knew the words would earn him a sharp glare and wanted to revel in saying them. "You finally called me by my first name."

G: did you find her? How'd it go?

Zoya frowned as she approached Genya's desk at the same time she received a cryptic message from her secretary.

"Who am I meant to find?" She asked.

Genya glanced up from her phone long enough to frown, "what?"

"This," Zoya spun her own screen so the other woman could read it, and watched Genya's eyes go wide.

"Oh, that's not meant for you," she said. "It's something a friend and I were planning, just ignore it."

Zoya raised an unamused brow, "okay, plan it later because we need to get a court order by the end of the day, and I'm going to need you to do that for me, Gen."

"It's always 'Gen' when you need something," she said sadly, "never 'Gen, I've come to confess my undying love and devotion for you', always such a disappointment, Zoya."

Zoya looked back at her, exasperating, "you're married! "

"That's not the point."

Zoya rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile touching her lips as she entered her office. For once, there was no stack of papers awaiting her on the desk. Just a single envelope.

Zoya scanned it's contents once, releasing an exasperated sigh. The court order had apparently been sent, courtesy of Genya Safin, who hadn't bothered to mention the fact. Saints.

And it was for Friday morning, the same day as Nikolai's court date. Which meant she could either attend her own case and win, or blow it off to support him.

He doesn't need me there.

But she'd been the only one to see Nikolai's state the night she'd found him destroying his office. He would never let anyone see him crack like that. And for some reason, Zoya Nazyalensky was finding it harder and harder not to care about it.

About him.

It was nine o'clock in the morning and Zoya Nazyalensky was running in heels.

It was a task she had mastered in college, when the overload of classes she had taken overlapped in time and happened to be full campuses apart, but she had grown rusty over the years, and her toes were already screaming in pain by the time she reached the hall.

Zoya had not lost a single case since she'd gone against Nikolai Lantsov, and she wasn't going to lose one because of Nikolai Lantsov.

So when she'd strongly recommended that her client go for a change in counsel, had convinced him he'd lose the case with her as his defendant, it hadn't hurt Zoya's record nearly as much as her pride.

Her heels clicked loudly in the empty hall when she entered, the building distantly familiar to her mind, though she couldn't place it just then.

She found the door she was looking for, once again struck by a sense of deja vu that she absolutely had no time for. And then she was slipping inside as noiselessly as possible.

The hall was fuller than most cases she'd been privy to attend—but then Alexander Lantsov wasn't most people. Zoya sat in the last row on the left, where Nikolai was visible leaning back against the table, seemingly at ease to everyone else. Only Zoya noticed his stiff soldiers and the way his gaze kept flicking back to his father.

"-is that all?" The judge was saying. Zoya realized there was someone currently giving a statement, though Nikolai's broad shoulders were positioned so she couldn't see the person themselves.

"No further questions, your honor," came a smooth voice that made her gaze snap to the right. Vasily Lantsov. He was shorter than Nikolai, and far less attractive, with paler hair and a weak chin, his suit buttons struggling against the curve of his stomach.

But he was also grinning as though he knew he had already won. Saints.

"If Mr Lantsov would like to call any other witnesses…" continued Vasily, his eyes scanning the rows of seats behind Nikolai. Most of them were men, many of which she didn't think had anything to do with Nikolai's side to begin with. She frowned. "Unless of course, there are none? I believe we were promised an abundance of evidence, plenty of victim accounts, and yet… none appear to be present."

This was the part where she expected the judge to side with Nikolai, or to at least tell off Vasily for speaking out of place. But he must have thought the same thing everyone in that room was thinking, the same thing Zoya was thinking.

Nikolai Lantsov had no other victims to call on.

Nikolai straightened, beginning to pace towards the jury, "you're absolutely right, I have brought no one else. But, your honor, I believe any evidence, if it can be tracked to the appropriate person, with a time and date stamp, would be just as honest, would it not?"

The judge considered Nikolai for a moment, the lines of his face drawing into a scowl, "how so?"

"Say, if I had accounts from every single victim, their own story and a way that connects it to them, would that be considered reasonable evidence, accepted by the court?"

He spoke like he knew the answer. Zoya tracked him with her eyes. He was watching the judge intently as the man thought of this new statement. "Yes, it can be considered reasonable."

"Objection-" began Vasily, the voice of whom was quickly turning Zoya's mood sour. No wonder Nikolai doesn't talk about him much.

"Overruled," the judge said, folding his hands over his stomach to watch the proceedings. He must have seen Nikolai in action before, just as Zoya had, because they both anticipated a performance.

"I'd like to call on the same witness, Your Honor. She has all the evidence you need with her."

Zoya frowned. No clever remarks, no finding holes in the system. Her gaze followed Nikolai back to the seat where a witness was seated. Only this time, she was in clear view, and there was no way Zoya could mistaken her for anyone else.

Not with that red hair, those amber eyes she saw every single morning.

Genya Safin raised her chin as everyone's attention settled on her. The most I got was her name.

Oh, Saints.

Genya didn't even flinch as she picked up her phone and settled it on the desk in front of her.

"Miss Safin," said Nikolai, "please recount to the jury what evidence you've gathered."

Zoya noticed the way her fingers shook slightly as she opened her phone. "As I said, I worked closely with Mr. Lantsov, but I had many friends in the workplace. I was the one people went to when they had trouble, when they needed help, or when they were looking to have a good time. I knew everyone because it was my job to know. I spoke to everyone because I had to."

She let out a shuddering breath, but when she spoke again, her voice was steady, and strong. "And I never delete a thing."

Then she set down her phone so the speaker was directed at the microphone, and began playing a recording. It seemed to be an audio message, a woman's broken voice speaking. "Genya, I know you've been through this too. I heard the stories, please, please. Tell me what to do. How do I fix this? I'm scared, Gen. Help me, please."

The recording ended, and then she played another, and another. Some of them were messages she read out, others full two-sided phone calls she'd recorded. And each of them a new voice confirming Alexander Lantsov's guilt.

And by the end of it the change in the room was clear. Vasily's face was white as a sheet, Alexander looking just as shaken as his son. The jury had various reactions from horror to anger to some with tears streaming down their faces. And Nikolai Lantsov stood ramrod straight, not daring to look left, his entire posture stiff.

"Is there anything you'd like to add before we adjourn?" Asked the judge. The words were meant for Nikolai, but he only glanced once at Genya. She nodded, and when she spoke again, her voice was loud and clear, her eyes glaring daggers at Alexander Lantsov.

"You told me once I was ruined. But I am not ruined, I am ruination." She narrowed her eyes at him. "And I hope you rot in hell for what you've done."

Zoya didn't get a chance to see Genya once the hall was cleared up, and Nikolai seemed to disappear just as quickly. It wasn't until hours later that she found the latter wandering around the park a few streets away from their firm, still dressed in that morning's suit, his countenance just as shaken as it had been earlier.

"What, no celebratory drinks for the win?" Asked Zoya as she approached him. Nikolai looked up with surprise, his features relaxing into a smile when he saw that it was her.

"The drinks part I'll admit is tempting, but I don't see much of a celebration to be had." He admitted.

"Don't tell me you're feeling guilty about this morning," she said, eyeing him warily.

Surprise crossed his features, "saints, no, I'm glad to be rid of the man. Granted, my mother won't so much as look in my direction, but…" he shook his head.

"Out with it, Lantsov," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He sighed, "it could have been sooner. It should have. If I hadn't left the firm so quickly, if I hadn't let him force me out…"

Zoya swept him from head to toe with a sharp look, "self-pity doesn't suit you, Nikolai, so drop it."

"That's not-"

"Yes, it is. And I don't want to hear it. You did a good thing back there, you can stop dwelling on the past and start working towards something bigger. Like making senior partner."

He straightened, "what are you talking about?"

Zoya forced herself not to avert her gaze from the intense look in his eyes. "My client asked for a change in defense. I lost someone for the firm on the same day you cracked a big case, Nikolai, it doesn't take a genius to connect those dots."

Realization dawned on his face, then to her surprise, a smile spread across his lips. "Tell you what, meet me back here in two hours—and trust me, it's worth it."

For the second time in her life, Zoya Nazyalensky was waiting on Nikolai Lantsov.

He arrived fashionably late, back in something more casual, jeans and a dark collared shirt. Zoya raised a brow, "it's even more surprising when you're late now that I know you own a watch."

But he didn't wait for Zoya to make her way through the list of snarky comments she'd been preparing, a grin already on his face. It was dark out, and it was definitely getting to be too chilly for the skirt she had on.

"You make quite the sight outside of work, Nazyalensky," he said, looking her over appreciatively.

Zoya rolled her eyes, "I hope you didn't drag me out here for more of your fruitless flirting, Lantsov, because I'll just walk away now."

A smile spread over his features.

"Believe me, you don't want to just yet,"

Without warning, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her along with him as he turned back down the street towards…

Zoya frowned, "where are we going?"

He didn't answer until they were standing directly in front of it. The same hall they'd been at that morning, the one she'd felt was familiar. It was a plain building with steps leading up to it and large glass doors currently closed.

For reasons unbeknownst to her, Nikolai dropped her hand. Zoya tried not to be disappointed.

"Believe it or not, I have seen the city before so it'll take more than that to impress me," said Zoya with a raised brow.

His grin never faltered, "I brought you here for two reasons, Nazyalensky. Let me at least get to the first without you threatening to murder me once, will you?"

"I'll do my best," she said with a sweet smile. But she had to admit her curiosity was piqued.

"First, I figured out why you hate me."

If he didn't look so certain of his statement, Zoya might have laughed. And to her own surprise, she found that her automatic response had been to rebuke it immediately. How could I possibly hate you, you idiot.

"Did you find my secret list of reasons to hate Nikolai Lantsov?" She asked dryly.

"No," he nodded back at the building. "Recognized it, didn't you? This was where we held our first trial. The one you lost. See, I thought you were angry because you lost, but you weren't, were you?"

She swallowed, her own words echoing back to her from only a few weeks ago, who else would defend a guilty person with such conviction?

"You were angry because you thought she was innocent."

Zoya folded her arms over her chest. She had expected something ridiculous, but this had exceeded even those thoughts. Yet something in her wanted to listen. Wanted to hear what he had to say. Because maybe, just maybe, he was right.

"Which is exactly why I brought these," he announced, teaching into his pocket to retrieve a few folded papers, reaching them out to her with a pleased expression on his face. But Zoya caught the bit of nervousness in his eyes as she took the papers from him.

"I was there at the trial, Nikolai. I've seen all the evidence."

"This one's not for the court," he said, "this one's for you."

It was a list. A list of names she was surprised to find she recognized, and beside them, various amounts of money. Transactions.

"Nikolai, what is this?" She asked quietly, rereading each name with disbelief.

"Backup," he admitted, "something I never ended up using because my claim was strong enough without it. But there's the list of witnesses you called, and the amount of money they'd been paid off to give their statements for your client."

Something like relief, but far more intense, exploded in Zoya's chest. Eight years in prison, and she'd been counting them down, certain she'd made a mistake. How many pro bono cases had she taken just to make up for that loss? She'd come to serve the justice system, and had been so sure it had tricked her somehow.

"I never would have taken my client's case if I'd known he was in the wrong." Nikolai's words were quiet, his bright hazel eyes intense and honest.

Saints, they were beautiful. He was beautiful.

"And the second thing?" She managed, forcing her thoughts away from how the moon's light caught Nikolai's features at just the right angle, the way his golden hair was mussed just right. The urge she had to thread her fingers through it.

"Ah, that," he said, and now there was definitely a hint of nervousness in his voice. Maybe more than a bit. Were his ears going pink?

"Nikolai, what is it?" Zoya asked with a frown.

"I might have… lied about the senior partner competition. And the pool."

Her brows raised in surprise, "you made up a bet to make me feel better about losing?"

"No, the bet was definitely real. And the fact that Juris is searching for a senior partner is also true," Nikolai swallowed, glancing away. "But he already found one. He told me as much. You're getting it, Zoya, the position has been yours for months now, he's just waiting for the other partners to sign on before asking you."

Zoya gaped at Nikolai. Everything she had worked for ever since she'd started working at the firm had been this—the chance to become more than just a small piece in the elaborate clockwork of the workplace. She wanted more, had always wanted more. And now…

"What do you mean the bet was real?" She asked, eyeing him with distrust.

Nikolai ran a hand through his hair, a telltale sign that he was nervous. "The bet was about you and me. About how long it would take me to convince you to go out with me."

Zoya stared at him for a long moment, "why would anyone bet on that?"

Now, he looked less nervous and more… exasperated. "Come on, Nazyalensky. The entire office figured it out, I didn't think it would take the best attorney in our firm so long to catch on."

Oh. Oh.

Zoya was left too struck to speak for a moment. But this was Nikolai. Stupid, stupid Nikolai, the one who'd become her first nemesis and her competition. The same one she'd fought to win against in every single mock trial, and still debated with on every little thing.

Saints above, it was Nikolai. Always, always Nikolai.

"You idiot," she said softly.

His brows drew together in confusion, but whatever he was about to say was silenced when she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, catching his lips with hers.

Nikolai froze for a moment before his mind seemed to catch up with his body, and then one hand came up to cup her face, the other tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer to him, as though he were afraid she'd disappear if he just let go, his lips writing a promise onto hers.

All thoughts seemed to abandon her as they broke apart, Zoya feeling slightly dizzy from the kiss and Nikolai's expression dazed.

"Zoya…" he began, a crease appearing between his brows.

"What?" She asked in the space between their breaths.

"I owe Genya so much money," he admitted. Zoya rolled her eyes, effectively shutting him up by pulling him back to her, his lips expertly parting around hers as she linked her arms around his neck, determined to keep him close.

She knew she now owed Genya a decent some of money too, but Nikolai didn't need to know about that.

#my writing*#m:fics #sh:zoyalai #zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #grishaverse #king of scars #rule of wolves #lit:tnd #tndfic #usersana #userhannas #usersai #useramma #tuserkaelyn #zoyalai-network

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ghostofstudentspast · 4 years

Text

One of a kind

Charlie x Reader

Prompts: “Please shut up, I can’t stand how appealing your voice is.”

I have such a soft spot for Charlie Weasley, I think he’s so underrated and deserves so much more love!! So I wrote this little piece that’s completely and utterly filled with fluff. I also wrote it for @summer-writes writing challenge (and you should check her out too because she’s lovely)!

Three days. That’s how long it had taken for you to develop a crush on Charlie Weasley. You’d vaguely remembered him from your days at school but he was two years above you and let’s face it, Hogwarts is a big school.

Now, it was rare to see the two of you apart. You’d joined his team in Romania almost two years ago now. Starting as a glorified intern, you were more than happy to just be around the dragons. Today you were counted as an integral part of your research team. While Charlie focussed more on the handling and transporting of dragons, you were at his side to monitor the creatures’ health. Always the first to clock injuries, diet changes and sicknesses you really were an expert in the dragon department.

Not only were the two of you a wonder team but you got along like old friends. His happy go lucky demeanour sparked your creative side which meant work was never boring. Your sharp tongue counterbalanced his quick wit which meant you were always tossing back and forth a little ball of banter.

You worked together and you were known to take work home. It only made sense when the two of you moved in together a few months into your partnership. You set basic boundaries and you mostly managed to squash the tiny little voice in your head that begged for him to make a move. If being platonic meant you could have Charlie in your life, you were happy to just be friends.

Living together worked out to be a blessing, the only problem was his singing. Not because it was bad, oh no quite the opposite. His voice was gravelly and had such a warm tone to it that it was like fire whiskey to your ears. He was constantly singing, while he cooked, in the shower and even on the job. It got to the point where you would just zone out as soon as you heard his voice. It always gave you butterflies. No not butterflies, they were fully grown dragons flying around in your stomach.

“Y/N!” the object of your thoughts came bursting into your living room, full of energy as always, “there’s a rumour going around that we might be getting a Hungarian horntail in sometime this month!”

He dropped onto the sofa across from the chair you were currently perched on and grinned. The two of you had been busy at work preparing to transfer some dragons in from a sanctuary across the country. It was always exciting when you had new dragons to study and look after but Charlie was especially thrilled each time. You’d never met someone who loved their career as much as he did.

“That’s fantastic Charlie!” you closed the book that had occupied you and watched the curly headed man toss a ball up in the air as you chatted. He always needed something to keep him busy, he always had energy to burn. “I heard there’s some babies coming along as well.”

“I know, it’s fantastic,” he shot you a quick grin, “it’ll be like a brand new addition to our little family.”

“Our family?” you chuckled and raised your eyebrow at him, “that makes you what? Their uncle?”

“Mm yeah, you’re right, we’re like the fun uncle and aunt that the kids can’t wait to see at Christmas,” he stuck his tongue out at you and tossed the ball up again with ease.

“You’re one of a kind Weasley,” you shook your head and stuck your tongue back out at him.

“Then aren’t you lucky you know me?” he winked at you and rolled off the couch to stand up. You weren’t too phased by his flirty personality as much as you were when you first met him but it still kicked up a little blush on your face when he caught you off guard.

“I’m gonna shower and then I’m thinking of making pasta. You know, in case you’re interested.”

“In what, the pasta or the shower?” you flirted back and smirked up at him, “cause those are two very different offers Charles.”

“Hey, I’ll leave that for you to decide darling,” he wiggled his eyebrows and tossed the ball up and down again as he backed out of the room. He turned to leave and yelled a quick, “I’ll be in the shower!”

You smacked yourself in the forehead with your novel as your cheeks coloured red. You let yourself take the five seconds to consider following him before putting the book back in your lap and distracting yourself with the text. He just couldn’t help being flirty, you knew that, it was a part of his personality. You’d be a hypocrite if you didn’t say the same about yourself. But with Charlie it was always slightly different.

“Carbs will fix this,” you muttered, choosing to let your thoughts drift to pasta instead.

And there it was, as if on cue, Charlie singing in the shower. You couldn’t help but smile a little bit as he loudly sang along to whatever was stuck in his head today. He was far from shy and you loved that about him. The man could be comfortable anywhere and never had any shame for being a bit strange.

It was easy to fall in love with him the way you had. He was kind, fun, handsome and practically your best friend. You would be shocked if anyone managed not to fall in love with him if they were in your position. You knew you were basically an old married couple at this point anyway. Last Christmas he’d even taken you home to the Weasleys for a few days to meet his family. Normal, colleague behaviour, right?

“Hey,” Charlie stopped in the doorway on his way to his room, towel wrapped around his waist. It wasn’t rare to see Charlie walking around without a shirt, just as you would often walk around without pants. It was your house. But still, your eyes skipped over his torso and you forced your eyes to stay on his face. “so, yes on the pasta? Maybe some ice cream?”

“You should know you don’t even have to ask at this point Charlie,” you grinned and shooed him out of the room, waving your book at him.

His humming made nice background noise to your reading, trying your hardest to stay focused on the words on the page. Eventually you gave up and decided to see if you could help in the kitchen. There you found Charlie stirring a pan on the stove and humming along to the radio he had playing from the counter.

“You know you have a wand right?” you crossed your arms with an amused smile playing on your lips.

“You know, somehow this seems safer for me,” Charlie barked out a laugh and turned to grin at you, “don’t exactly have a great track record with household magic do I sweetheart?”

“Can’t deny that,” you laughed and pulled some plates out of the cupboard and started setting the little table in the centre of the kitchen. The two of you sitting down to gorge yourself on cheesy goodness.

You often split the chores between you, alternating who cooked for who. It wasn’t really a competition to see who was the better cook between you but if there’s one thing he could cook well it was comfort food. Something that came naturally to the Weasleys was a creating comforting environment so it was no surprise.

“Nope, I got it!” You grabbed Charlie’s plate before he could get up and put it away, “You cooked, I clean.”

“You’re too good to me,” Charlie chuckled and helped bring everything to the sink, “one of these days my mother will demand I marry you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and turned towards the sink so he couldn’t see your eyes widen. Wouldn’t be so bad Charlie, you thought to yourself. You could hear him continue to hum along from the living room as you flicked your wand over the dirty plates to clean them. He came waltzing back into the kitchen as Frank Sinatra played over the speakers. Reaching out his hands dramatically to serenade you as you leant against the counter and crossed your arms with a smirk.

“Please shut up, I can’t stand how appealing your voice is,” you pretended to plug your ears.

Charlie just shook his head with a grin and continued singing, grabbing your hand to pull you into the kitchen to join him in his dancing.

I could be a king on crown

Humble or poor, rich or renowned

There is nothing I couldn't do

If I had you

You let out a laugh as he spun you towards him and rocked the two of you back and forth. Your hand clasped in his, the other on your waist he danced the two of you through the small kitchen. Resting your head on his shoulder, eyes closed as you listened to him sing along. He smelled like fire and cinnamon and Autumn. A smile was permanently stuck on your face even as your heart skipped a beat.

His hand was warm against yours, scars littered his fingers and forearms along with light freckles from the sun. His thumb stroked the back of your hand as you swayed comfortably, the music fading out.

You opened your eyes to look up at the man who held your heart and were surprised to find him looking back. His hand travelled up to your cheek and his calloused thumb stroked your cheek gently. You held your breath and nuzzled your cheek into his hand.

“I am so insanely in love with you,” he whispered. It was so soft, you’d feared you’d misheard him somehow. “It’s driving me crazy Y/N.”

Without second thought you stood up on your toes and pressed your lips to his. Your arms easily resting on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you as his hands gripped your waist and steadied you. His lips were soft and moved perfectly against yours. You smiled into the kiss and let out a soft chuckle as your forehead came to rest against his, the two of you smiling and laughing breathlessly.

“I love you,” you smiled, “I’m so in love with you,” you let out a joyful laugh as Charlie picked you up with a dopey grin on his face and kissed you again. You wound your hands in his hair as he held you against him.

“Thank god,” he laughed as he set you down, your feet touching the floor again. “there was a moment there where I thought I’d have to find the dragons a new aunt.”

You slapped his chest with a laugh and rolled your eyes at him. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead it’s a smile. It was everything you could have possibly hoped for with Charlie.

“So you really think my voice is incredibly appealing huh?” he asked with an innocent expression in his face, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

“Oh shut up,” you laughed as your face flushed again.

“No, In considering a career change now,” he teased, “Yeah I can see it now, Charlie the dragon taming pop star.” he squeezed your hip with his hand.

“Right, you call me when that works out,” you snorted and patted his chest with your hand.

“What if I can’t wait that long to call you?” he smiled at you and kissed the tip of your nose.

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” you smirked and tugged him down by the front of his shirt to kiss him again.

#summerswritingchallenge #harry potter #charlie weasley #charlie x reader #hp headcannon #hp blurbs #hp writing #hp fanfic #harry potter headcannon #harry potter blurb #one shot #dragons

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muwur · 4 years

Note

If requests are open.. Suga x reader -3rd year student- where friends to pining where reader is a exchange student mid year -parent’s job- and reader is new to the school, can barely communicate Japanese and is too shy to meet new people.. reader is welcomed as a co-manager for vb club and all the other boys adopt her has their sister. She tutors them in their English lesson too.. also how would Suga help her open up from her shyness..

request: sugawara x fem! reader who is a shy exchange student!

another beginning.

✩ one-shot ✩ for sugawara bb

❧ fem reader

✎ 4.9k words

a/n: FINALLY GOT THIS BBY DONE, ty for being patient requester <3 i hope its ok, lmk if u would like smth different!

also curious but do yall listen to music when you write or read? i dnt always but when i DO i listen to some boppy music so i can shake mah ass (unles im depresso AHAHA) LMAO rec me some pls--

send me asks--

current listen: juicy by doja cat, gasolina by daddy yankee, 11 PM by maluma

A pencil dangled between two of your fingers, gently swinging back and forth as you tapped the eraser’s tip against your chin in thought. Looking over Hinata’s shoulder at the worksheet laying on the table, you extended your hand and made a neat scrawl on the page. “That’s good translating, Hinata! However,” you dragged your pencil across the surface, marking a line and arrow to point at a space near the beginning of his sentence, “keep in mind that although gerunds look like verbs, they act as nouns. So, this word should go here.”

Yachi, who was seated to your right, nodded in agreement. “I looked through his notes doodles, and it looked like they were going over gerunds in class!”

With narrowed eyes, Hinata scanned the page, muttering the sentence underneath his breath. Suddenly, his hazel eyes lit up in understanding and his lips morphed into a round “O.” “Ohhhh, that make a lot more sense! Thanks, (y/n), you’re a big help, especially in English! Also, look, guys!”

He rummaged through his cluttered backpack and fished out a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper with a red “14/50” marked on the top right corner. Holding it up proudly, he declared, “I got a better score than last time! By nine points!”

“That’s still an F,” Tsukishima pointed out, eyes glued to the pages of the book he was reading. Yamaguchi and Kageyama tried to stifle their snickers.

“Y-You’re not even looking!” Hinata defended. The ginger was met with a shrug. “I don’t need to see the score to know you failed.”

Before any fighting could break out, however, the door swung open, revealing the remaining third-years. Bags of snacks in their arms, the four of them stepped in. “We’re back! Your parent/guardian let us in, (y/n),” Sugawara announced, setting his bag down on the table. The rest followed suit and set the goodies down. Rummaging through one of the bags, Daichi pulled out a meat bun.

“Hinata, here’s your meat bun,” he said, handing the snack to the excited first-year, who had long-forgotten Tsukishima’s snide remark about his lack of intellectual aptitude. Kiyoko offered Kageyama his milk, the slight brush of their hands being enough to stir Noya and Tanaka into an envious craze. Asahi tried to settle them down, nervously reminding them that they needed to act respectful in your home, especially after your family had agreed to let you all study there. You stifled a giggle as Sugawara and Daichi joined in, scolding their underclassmen for their poor behavior and threatening them with a time-out.

With an exasperated sigh, Sugawara took a seat next to you on the mat. “Ah, I can’t help but worry about how Ennoshita’s going to handle both of them on his own.”

Giving a sidelong glance to the second-year, who was now forcing Noya and Tanaka to complete timed practice problems, your lips formed a small smile. “Looks like he does a pretty good job at it, though.”

Sugawara let out an amused huff. “Guess I’m worried over nothing. Oh, also,” he dug into the plastic bag in front of him, taking out your favorite snack and offering it to you. “Here you go.”

(can u tell from my stories yet that fav snacks aka actions are my love language--)

“Oh, thank you, Suga, I didn’t even ask for this…” you flashed him a grateful smile and took the package from his hands, suppressing the blush that threatened to overcome your cheeks as your fingertips brushed. He gave a sheepish smile and glanced to the side in response, giving the back of his neck an anxious rub.

“Ah, it’s the least I could do to thank you for letting us all come over to study. It’s really helpful. I appreciate it, (y/n).”

“It’s not much, really. I’m more than glad to help you all (read: Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, and Noya) out with English and offer my place. Having everyone together makes it easier. They need to pass these exams so you all get to play.”

Your offer to help the team with their studies may have seemed a simple gesture as both their friend and co-manager. On the inside, however, you really were more than happy to have everyone over for whatever reason. It left you with a feeling of awe. The last thing you would’ve expected 3 months ago was to be sitting in your new home in Japan, surrounded by a group of people who accepted you despite your poor Japanese and late appearance to Karasuno. Just 4 months ago, after you learned about your parent/guardian’s job transfer to Japan, you were left feeling an array of mixed feelings:

Anxiety – a whole new country? With a language you could barely even speak or understand? How was that going to work? Could you even make friends at school? God knows how long it took you to make the friends you have now.

Disappointment – you were looking forward to graduating high school with the friends you’ve made throughout the past few years. Having to say goodbye would be difficult, and you’d miss them.

Yet, you felt a sliver of hopefulness – new experiences were waiting for you. You had the opportunity to lead a new life in a foreign place. It filled you both with fear and exhilaration.

On the night before your first day at Karasuno, you could barely sleep after spending hours religiously practicing how to introduce yourself in Japanese. Having to introduce yourself to the class and speaking with your new classmates was inevitable, after all. And so the next day, you found yourself standing in front of the classroom, trying to suppress the nervous shudder that threatened to rack your body and ignore the prickles of sweat on your palms. Despite how much you mentally recited your introduction that morning, your current situation left your mind blank, unable to conjure any words. Fueled by the awkward silence, the numerous gazes focused on you, and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, what came out was a quiet, jumbled form of what you intended to say.

“Hello, (y/n) (l/n). I’m (insert your original country name here). I can’t Japanese, but I hope friends. Everyone, nice to meet,” you bowed, both in respect and so that you could hide your face, which was red from embarrassment. You knew you messed up, but you pretended otherwise, hoping that nobody would point out your mistake.

You straightened up after a few moments of silence, registering the confused looks of your new classmates and feeling another stab of shame. In response to your introduction, the teacher raised her eyebrows and blinked in confusion. Then her eyes warmed, and she offered you a smile as she spoke up. “Class, this is (l/n) (y/n). She recently moved here from (insert OG country here). She’s still learning Japanese; however, her English is perfect, so I’m sure you can all learn something from each other. Please make her feel welcome. Your seat is over there, (l/n).”

Shoulders sagging, you made your way to your desk, avoiding eye contact despite the pairs of eyes that followed you to your seat. Focusing on the lecture was a struggle. Not only could you barely understand anything the teacher was saying; worries about how the rest of the day would go also flooded your mind. This was only the morning; how could you navigate your way through the halls? Ask for directions? Would you meet people? Where would you eat lunch? How could you survive?

The remainder of the classes went by gruesomely slow. Too embarrassed from your slip this morning and too shy to meet new people despite wanting to make a friend, you successfully dodged conversation with any of your classmates. You were relieved that finally lunch came by, yet that presented another problem. You weren’t sure where to go, but you were sure that you were going to eat by yourself.

After a few minutes of walking around the hallways, you settled for eating lunch in the classroom. At least it meant you didn’t have to rush to class after the bell rang. Taking a seat, you pulled out your boxed lunch and set it out in front of you. Painfully aware of how alone you must have looked, you pretended to look really interested in your meal (am i the only one or--). You poked it, broke it into pieces, then brought each sliver to your mouth and chewed slowly. If only your family had switched your phone plans earlier, then you could at least spend time scrolling the internet or lament to your friends back home about how your day was going.

Still “engrossed” in your meal, you failed to notice a figure standing in front of your desk. Only after you saw a hand situate itself on the edge of your desk did you look up.

You met the chestnut eyes of a boy. He bore a warm smile that made a small crinkle in his eyes and beauty mark. Strands of grey hair draped naturally in front of his eyes and framed the sides of his face. Despite your unease, his soft features helped to calm your racing heart and mind. He seemed a friendly person; after all, he was able to approach you.

“Hey, you’re (l/n), right? I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga. I’m in your class,” he introduced in pretty darn good English.

‘Man, that means he heard me this morning…’ you thought miserably. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some relief. Perhaps you hadn’t given others or yourself much of a chance before jumping to the conclusion that you were incapable of meeting new people.

Clearing your throat, you shyly extended a hand to him in greeting. “Yes, I’m (y/n) (l/n). Call me (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Suga,” you replied hesitantly, finally using the correct words in Japanese that you had been practicing the previous night.

Shaking your hand, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Your Japanese sounds pretty good! You just moved, so you’re still learning, right? How about I help you improve that while you help me with English?”

You were about to nod eagerly in appreciation when you both overheard some snickering across the room. Two boys and a girl sat together, whispering quite loudly and sneaking oh-so-inconspicuous glances over at your desk. Taking notice that they were caught staring, they presumed to loudly munch on their meals and talk about the weather.

Suga only shot them annoyed glare and shook his head before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, those are my… Friends.” The strain in his voice after saying that last word made you question if they really were on friendly terms.

After that day, you found yourself spending every lunch period with Suga and his other third-year friends Daichi, Asahi, and Shimizu. You initially felt unsure of how to talk to them, but after Sugawara’s efforts to include you in his circle and some reassuring words about being yourself and not letting a small, temporary language barrier hold you back from making friends, you earned a bit of confidence. While you spoke a hybrid of English and Japanese with them, you eventually managed to pick up a lot of Japanese from talking everyday, and after these few months of constant exposure, you were able to hold decent conversations. Additionally, the extra help you sought from the teaching staff allowed you to be able to keep up in class, and your instructors were understanding enough to give you some leniency on your assignments during this adjustment period.

Hanging around your new friends often, it was only a matter of time before you were introduced to the rest of Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team. It occurred one lunch period three weeks after you first arrived, when Asahi suggested that you join some club activities. You were discouraged, however, considering that it was already halfway through the year, you didn’t know enough Japanese yet to converse with just anyone, and you were a tad shy, which made joining clubs a bit difficult. At that moment, your new friends all made eye contact with each other, then looked at you.

“Why not join our volleyball club?” Suga asked. “Shimizu could always use the help. She’s our only student manager.”

Shimizu nodded in agreement, her blue gaze soft. “Your help would be really appreciated. There’s a lot to this job, so having someone to split the work with would be relieving. You can also help me look for someone to take my place when we graduate.”

Later that day you found yourself in the gym being blocked by Sugawara, who was protecting you from two crazed boys whose collars were held back by Daichi. A ginger-haired boy looked at you with curiosity, excitedly introducing himself as Hinata and pointing out the names of the other members on the court (“This is ‘Bakageyama’ and that guy’s ‘Four-eyed Jerk Face’—").

Upon their release (which was granted only after they promised to behave), Tanaka and Noya dashed over to you, tears in their eyes as they held your hands and expressed their gratitude for your presence. “Oh, (y/n), you kind soul, helping Shimizu with the managerial work. Better yet, now we have two cute girls to support us, this is amazing!”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting with your new friends in your living room and feeling grateful for their vibrant personalities, kindness, and acceptance. You couldn’t have asked for a better batch of friends to end your year with. Though, you were most grateful to Sugawara. If not for him, the last several months of your highschool experience may have gone by miserably, with nothing special to note and no new friends to celebrate with. His gentle, understanding nature had done nothing but support you and make you feel welcome. He helped introduce you to a new, comfortable life you had trouble imagining before your arrival to Japan. He dispelled your doubts and fears, instilling in you a newfound confidence in your abilities. It certainly helped that the team was just as supportive and patient with you.

You could recount the events of the past few months that brought warmth to your heart. These people were growing on you, making you feel like you could be yourself more each day. Daichi provided you a sense of security and leadership. Asahi was empathetic, quick to detect your feelings of uneasiness and asking you if you were okay. Shimizu made sure to make you feel welcome as a friend and fellow manager, even inviting you to a café over the weekend to brainstorm ideas on recruiting a replacement (who you both later discovered to be Yachi) and try out some desserts. Tanaka and Noya tried to teach you all the Japanese curse words they knew, initially lying to you about their meanings so they could see the rest of the team’s reactions when you would blurt things out in the middle of practice (Let’s just say that Daichi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Tsukki knew whose fault this was, and Asahi was real shook hearing a string of curse words from your mouth while you sat there, no ill intent emanating from you whatsoever). Ennoshita gave you a comforting, easygoing presence. Tsukki was… Tsukki (LOL). But he could carry on a conversation, often genuinely interested whenever you talked about the culture back in (other country). And you knew he was soft. Hinata was a burst of energy, and you found his bickering with Tsukishima and Kageyama silly and quite precious. You often stayed with Yachi to toss balls to Kageyama late at night, much to his appreciation. Yachi and Yamaguchi were some of the biggest sweethearts on the team, and all you could think about was needing to protect them.

There was definitely something different in your interactions with Sugawara, though. You found yourself closest to him out of everyone. It may have been because he was the first you talked to, or maybe it was because he was one of the most easygoing people you’ve ever met. That, and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. You wanted to know more about him.

Sugawara chuckled in response. “I suppose you’re right. We wouldn’t have made it this far without everyone,” he said softly, a tinge of fondness showing in his brown eyes. He proceeded to take out his schoolwork and pen, resting his chin in his palm as he read the words across the page of his assignment. Occasionally, you glanced over at him, admiring the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and how his hair brushed his cheeks whenever his head shifted in its position. How the grey tips of lashes kissed his bottom eyelids with each flutter of his chocolate hues. You even took a mental note that his lips, currently pursed in thought, were rather smooth and full in appearance.

A rogue thought about how those lips would feel against your own flitted across your mind. It brought a small pang to your chest, and you had to mentally slap yourself back into reality. You noticed these new feelings were starting to become more prevalent the longer you hung around Sugawara. You consulted your friends back home about it, and in their excitement, they insisted you had a crush on this guy (and demanded photos). Heart palpitations, heat-flooded cheeks, covert glances, and a desire for closeness in all aspects possible? All symptoms of infatuation, your personal love doctors concluded. You recalled when these signs first appeared about a month ago, after he offered to walk you home when practice had gone late into the night. Initially you declined, not wanting him to go out of his way when it was already dark outside. However, after seeing the soft look in his eyes as he declared he wanted to ensure you got home safely and that he didn’t mind the walk, your heart couldn’t help but give in and agree.

It was a tranquil night, accompanied only by the sound of crickets chirping and a cool, whispy breeze. About 15 minutes after having left campus, you were both seated on an aged bench at a small park, snacking on recent convenience store purchases to satisfy your growling stomachs. A comfortable silence settled in the air. The nightly surroundings were illuminated by the gentle glow of several nearby lampposts and stars that burned lightyears away.

Your gaze followed the tracks of a small bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of your feet. It skittered soundlessly against the pavement, eventually disappearing in the security of a bush. A gentle sigh took hold of your attention, and your eyes flickered over to your friend, who was peering up at the star-dusted evening sky.

“Do you know what you’re doing after graduation?” he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You shook your head. “No clue, to be honest. You?”

He pursed his lips and took a sidelong glance at you before focusing back upwards. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a teacher…”

“Seems fitting. Your Japanese lessons have been really helpful,” you pointed out, smiling.

The tips of his lips curved upwards as well. “Really? I’m glad. You’ve improved a lot, too. You’re a quick learner.”

“Heh, well I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another comfortable silence fell upon you two before he spoke again. “I was thinking about how to keep in touch with everyone after we left, and how it’s a shame we’re leaving so soon after you arrived. I would’ve liked to know you better, too, but there’s only a few months left...”

His genuine words left a rosy tinge on your cheeks. As you were thinking of a response, you looked down, noticing how close your hand lay next to his. Heartrate quickening, you stammered, “Y-Yeah, I wish we had more time, too.. T-To hang around each other, I mean. But graduation doesn’t have to mean goodbye, right?”

“That’s true... You always know just what to say, you know that, (y/n)?” he turned his gaze on you and held out an extended pinky. “Promise to talk to me after graduating, then?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and huffed in amusement. Taking your own pinky and intertwining it with his, you nodded. “So long as you keep your end of the promise, too.”

“Of course.”

Sugawara’s voice brought you out of your momentary flashback. “(Y/n)? Can I ask you a question?”

Blinking your previous thoughts away and calming the warmth on your cheeks, you responded, “What’s up?”

He slid his assignment closer to you, pointing at a section he was having trouble with. “Here. I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly..”

You leaned in, scooching towards him and closing in on the gap between you. Focused on the homework, you failed to notice how the brush of your shoulders made Sugawara’s body stiffen slightly. With your proximity, your scent easily wafted to his nose, and he could observe the closer details of your appearance. The hair tucked behind your ear exposed your cheekbone, looking soft to the touch. Your determined hues scanned the page, and he could visualize your thinking through your small, occasional self-nods. You looked cute and comfortable in the casual hoodie you wore, bringing him a strange, mixed sense of bashfulness and ease. His mind wandered, trying to envision how you would look if you wore any of his jackets, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of your sweet voice and scribbles against paper.

“It sounds great, Suga! I just made a note there on how you can fix it; otherwise, it should be okay,” you gave him a reassuring smile as you slid his work back to him. You, however, didn’t shift back to your original position and instead stayed seated mere inches from the boy. Not that he minded, but…

“O-Oh, alright, thanks!”

It made concentrating during the rest of the study session a little difficult.

Occasionally you did get up, helping mostly the first and second years with some of their English assignments. His eyes would secretly (but c’mon, everyone but Hinata and Kageyama could tell) follow your figure, admiring the way you looked as you interacted happily with the others and did whatever you could to assist them. Yet you always returned to the same spot, near Suga. Close enough that everyone else on the team took notice (if they haven’t already), relayed the information via mental telephone, and secretly agreed to depart a bit earlier than they had anticipated.

“Oh, you guys are leaving already?” you asked everyone as they were packing up their belongings.

They all nodded in response, offering up their reasons for leaving earlier than the original time you set, which ranged from, “My parents wanted me home for dinner” to “My sister’s wasted and locked out of the house, nobody’s home—” (u good der Saeko)

Standing at your doorway, you waved to your friends, sending them off with a “I’ll see you at school!” as they waved back and filed out of your home. Looking over to Suga, who was still standing beside you, you wondered, “Oh, you’re staying?”

“Oh, yeah! I was surprised to see everyone leave so soon, but I was planning to head home in another hour. B-But I can go now if you need me to..!” he answered a bit shakily, waving around his hands in small, bashful gestures.

You shook your head and you waved your hand dismissively. “It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you need to.”

Settled back in the common area, you both tried to resume your schoolwork, but to no avail. Groaning, you leaned back, using your arms to support you from behind. “I’m tired of workingggggg.”

He sighed in agreement, resting an elbow on the table and propping up his head in a closed fist. “Same. Do you want to do something else?”

“Hmm..” you pondered aloud. “Do you want to see my room?”

Shrugging and responding with a “why not?”, you both stood up, leaving the common area to go to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, Suga closely trailing behind you.

“Welcome to my room. Make yourself cozy,” you insisted as you sat on your bed and pat the spot next to you. He took your offer, taking a seat beside you and looking around your bedroom in curiosity.

“Something about this place really seems like you, (y/n).”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. “Is it the messy pile of clothes in that basket or the neat desk I cleaned up this morning?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you could say those are part of it. I just meant there’s a lot to you that you should feel comfortable sharing with others. People are complex and there’s so many sides to a person we discover along the way. I remember how timid you were in our first weeks of knowing each other, and now you’re getting along great with everyone and work hard to improve everyday. You were able to overcome a stressful repeat of entering highschool, but this time in another country, and adapted just fine! Your kindness and determination is admirable.”

Twiddling with your fingers, you felt a sheepish grin form on your face. “Aha, you’re too kind, Suga. You know I couldn’t have made these friends or adjust so well without your help. I was too worried about talking to anyone until you came up to me, so… Thank you.”

You risked a glance towards the boy, finding his chocolate gaze already set on you. If none of your interactions in the past month had set your heart ablaze, then certainly this moment would take the cake. Sugawara’s eyes flickered downwards briefly in a moment of hesitance, then locked again onto yours with a hint of an undetectable emotion lurking behind those irises. Neither of you could bring up any words to say. The only sounds present were the soft hums of your breathing and the low creak of your bed as you found yourselves shifting your weight in order to inch closer to one another.

His mind flooded with a cacophony of emotions, from crippling nervousness to an allure for risk-taking. He could barely come to terms with the current situation and what might happen. Maybe he was overthinking it. Surely being this close face-to-face with someone who you just happen to like doesn’t automatically mean they like you back and want to kiss you just as much. Perhaps you were just leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder; after all, you did seem tired from the events of today. Or, you were scooting close for a better look at his face so you could point out, “hey, you got a little something on your face.” Perhaps a crumb from the cracker he had earlier?

But when he took note of the way your eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes caressing the tops of your dusted cheeks, his doubts began to waver. Maybe this was the chance he’s been seeking out lately. Once Daichi deciphered Sugawara’s affections for you, eventually the whole team found out and began to silently root for him. Thankfully, despite their blatant attempts to help him out, you hadn’t noticed a thing. It made him wonder whether you were oblivious, or just didn’t like him, or both. However, in this moment, when it appeared as though maybe you returned his feelings, he felt he should—as Tanaka would say—shoot his shot.

A sudden knock on the door sent you both jumping 5 feet away from each other. Frazzled and wide-eyed, you choked out a weak, “H-Hello?” in response to the interruption. The door opened, revealing your parent/guardian, who peeked inside.

“Dinner’s ready. Would you like to stay and have it with us?” they were asking Suga.

Heart still racing from the fear that gripped it, he blinked in surprise. He piped out a polite no thank you, reasoning that he didn’t want to intrude.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you. Come soon.”

They closed the door and left, leaving you two in an awkward silence that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cough. “We should, uh, get going…”

Standing up, you reached for the door with Suga in tow. The tension in the air remained between the two of you throughout dinner. Nevertheless, Sugawara was able to leave a good impression on your family by being a good conversationalist, even earning a few laughs from your parent/guardian. It made your heart swell at how natural it was for him to be able to get along with others.

After dinner ended and he packed his things, you stepped outside with him to send him off, closing the door behind you. He was about to salute you with a “thanks for having me over” when you gave him a peck on the cheek so sudden that he didn’t have time to react before you were already making your way back into your house.

“Thanks for coming, Suga! I’ll see you at school! Let me know when you get home!” you exclaimed animatedly, shutting the door quickly to hide your embarrassment from your sudden actions. You leaned your back against it, instantly regretting what you did with tightly shut eyes. ‘Oh gawd how am I gonna face him at school tomorrow dhefjkg.’

But on the other side of the door, Suga stood dumbfounded, hovering a hand over the area your lips had touch. Though highly embarrassed, he felt a rush of elation pass over him like a humongous wave that never stopped crashing against the shores.

He was starting to really think it was a good idea to introduce himself to the cute new girl in class. Nice one, Suga.

#haikyuu x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader oneshots #hq reader insert #haikyuu reader insert #requests

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sunflowerhae · 4 years

Text

Lifeboat

N.J (2k)

A/N• this is purely indulgent. It also has quite heavy themes, but at this point are any of us surprised. I want to make something clear, the reader doesn’t do what she does bc of what happens with her and Jaemin (I’m trying not to spoil). I mean, that’s just a tip of the iceberg type situation. That being said, if you are having similar thoughts as our dear reader, please call your countries suicide hotline, and/or talk to someone you trust in your life. ALSO, I am not trying to romanticize any of the topics I wrote about, I’m trying to show that even the people that seem to have it all can be just as lost and broken as the rest of us, also that the most important thing you could be to a person is someone who asks them if they’re okay. Sometimes, that’s all a person needs - Someone to listen.

READ!⚠️angst, suicide,character death, drugs, heavy self-hating words, depiction of depression/mental illness, not specified, but insinuates⚠️

{🎵SOTS☁️; Lifeboat, Elle McLemore}

The world seemed to close in on you as you stared at the boy who stood before you with a hardened gaze in his eyes. While you only stood a good 3 feet away from him, you could feel the anger and helplessness radiating off of him, transferring itself onto you in sadness and heartbreak.

“Why?” Was the only thing you could manage to get past your lips.

“Y/n, it’s not that I don’t like you, of course I do. We’ve been dating for 2 years, but I’ve just been... uncomfortable almost the whole time. It’s not your fault, it’s just, your life. I can’t handle being with one of the most popular girls in school. You seem to have it all figured out, and everyone loves you, and I feel pushed to the side sometimes.” You didn’t understand why Jaemin was mad, but the small space under the bleachers where you both stood was enough to suffocate you to the point where you didn’t care to ask.

He didn’t understand.

They never understood.

No one.

You wanted to fight to save your relationship, but the words choked into the back of your throat, just like they did when Soojin would bully people in front of you, and you wanted to scream at her and pull the other person into your arms and whisper that it will all be okay and apologize apologize apologize, but you stayed rigid on her flank, silently trying to survive until you could get to Jaemins arms, or to the bottom of a beer bottle at yet another house party you were constantly forced to attend with your other two friends.

You choose to swallow your spit, and ask him, “is this because of soojin? Did she say something to you?” You knew your “dear” friend had a certain distaste for your long term boyfriend, because - as she had worded it - his kind doesn’t belong next to someone that Soojin had deemed acceptable enough to befriend (you); “His kind” being not necessarily the most popular. Him and his other friends were amazing people, and you wished you would have befriended them on the first day of freshman year, instead of the blonde girl in your Art 1 class that always had a red scrunchie. When Jaemin introduced you to them, you could tell they were hesitate to let you into their life - what with your position within your schools hierarchy system. You honestly didn’t blame them. However, after a while they warmed up to you, and you felt like you finally fit in with people. You thought these people would become your life long friends; long after you’ve left high school and forgotten all about the life you unwillingly lead.

You suppose that is no longer the case.

“No, yes, god I don’t know, y/n. It’s just, everything! You have friends that are bitches, and I never know when you’re just going to leave me and spread some terrible rumor about me!” He was silently yelling now. It was after school, and the football team was on the field - the other side of where you stood - practicing. There were people running on the track, cheerleaders practicing next to the field, leftover students wondering the grounds. Everyone was living, moving on with their lives and turning along with the Earth - why did you feel frozen? Why did you feel like nothing was ever going to keep moving and be okay and the world was never going to be beautiful again?

“Is that what you expect me to do, Jaemin? After two years of knowing me, is that what you think of me?”

“God, y/n, maybe! I see who you align yourself with so I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a bitch just like them!” You understood he was just hurting, like you, but that didn’t make the words hurt any less. You took a couple steps back from his figure with slow nods, before turning around fully and booking your way to your car.

Jaemin watched your retreating figure with tears curling into his eyes. He left not long after you did, still thinking about you on the way home. He didn’t know this at the time, but that was the last time he ever saw you. His first love, his first heartache.

You felt guilty.

You always did. You always had this insistent chewing at your intestines; this constant voice in your head telling you that everyone was better than you, and that you didn’t deserve the praise you got for being a good person.

You tried to fight the words and the icky feelings off with trips to the volunteer center - usually with Jaemin. You went that night, hoping that this constant pain in your heart after hearing jaemins smooth, venom-filled words would choke back and leave your system, like the terrible feelings usually did when you helped people. However, no matter how many people smiled at you, and no matter how many lives you got to help, the feeling only grew more and more.

You are worthless, y/n.

You only do charity work for your own need.

No one likes you.

You’ll never be loved.

Not even Jaemin loves you.

These ill thoughts were a normal occurrence for you. Usually, Jaemin would lay you down, rub your stomach, and whisper in your ear how beautiful you were to him, inside and out.

You were a nuisance and a waste to him, y/n.

The feelings never left, and you could tell people knew something was wrong with you, so you chose to leave the center early. On your way out, a familiar face had asked you where Jaemin was. You pretended you didn’t hear them.

Your room was dark. Usually, if you couldn’t have Jaemin, you would go to your parents. However, they were away at a dinner event for your mother’s work. You would never go to Soojin, and while you loved Haeyong, she had a tendency to tell Soojin about what you two privately talked about; always trying to get brownie points with the blonde girl who seemed to secretly hate her. You figured there was someone you could go to, and it didn’t hurt to try.

Y/n [10:57pm] u up???? I kinda need someone to talk to rn hAha. Read

Y/n [10:59pm] hello? 👉👈 Read

Y/n [11:02pm] Haechan why r you leaving me on read bro?? Ik he’s your best friend, but we don’t have to talk about him, I just need someone to talk to pLS pls. Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:02PM

Haechan [11:03pm] listen y/n we shouldn’t talk anymore, I’m sorry. You were a good friend, but Jaemin was and always will be first to me. And he’s right, we never know when you’re going to do a 180 on us and tell all of our secrets to everyone. We can’t - and never have been able to - trust you. I’m sorry, really. You’re a popular girl. You don’t need us, you’ll forget. When we became friends with you, we didn’t really want to, Jaemin kinda forced us to, I hope u understand. :/ we’ll forget about u, u forget about us. Deal? Read

Y/n [11:04pm] um ok. Sorry for bothering you all, have a good night Read

Y/n [11:03pm] when will u be home?Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:04PM

Mom [11:06pm] not for a while, ask Jaemin to come over if you’re scared of being alone. Read

Y/n [11:06pm] mom i hate to be annoying but can u and dad come home rn??? I need u Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:06PM

Mom [11:08pm] are you dying? Has someone broken in? Are you unsafe?Read

Y/n [11:08pm] um,,,,no Read

Mom [11:10pm] well then no y/n. You know how much this award means to me, I’ve been constantly working lately and finally might get recognized for it. If I leave now, I might not get it. Can whatever you need wait? Read

Y/n [11:11pm] Um yeah. I love u Read

Mom [11:12pm] u too💖 Read

Why were you never first?

Why was there no one who asked you if you were okay?

If there was, what would you say?

See y/n? No one likes you.

You’re a bother to them.

Maybe you should fix that.

Maybe if you made their lives easier, they would love you.

You didn’t deserve their love, but maybe?

Maybe the pills could love you.

They were always there for you.

Maybe, they could help others love you too.

Love love love love.

Maybe.

They say your parents found you in bed.

They thought you were sleeping. I mean, all your lights were off, it was late.

But in the morning, when your mother came to wake you up and saw that your eyes were wide open, well....

They found the note on your desk across the room.

It was dated a year before.

You had written it a year before.

Everyone admitted that it was such a beautiful note. Heartbreaking? Yes. gut-wrenching? Of course. But beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

They gathered everyone into the gym the next day in intervals. Freshman, who didn’t understand what was really happening, but had heard your name and definitely knew who you were, and could put two and two together.

Next, the sophomores. Like the freshman, they only had heard of you. Some had met you, some cried. You were kind, they knew.

After them, the juniors. Chenle and Jisung were sitting in the corner. Jisung was sobbing into Chenle’s lap, while silent tears fell down the olders’ face. You had always been willing to play video games with them, and were such a kind hearted person. They remember last night, when they were all sitting together and haechan had read your texts you sent out loud, and all of them were so busy feeling for Jaemin, that they blindly informed Haechan on what he should say. On how to break your heart. Chenle wished Haechan had called her.

Finally, the seniors. Soojin and Haeyong sat in the back, as always. They were both upset because you had not been answering their texts.

Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin were sitting on the other side. They had not been told what the assembly was about, but when the teacher got the call about it, halfway through math, she sat at her desk for a couple of seconds with her head in her hands. They knew whatever the assembly was about was not good.

Haechan was the first to react out of the four.

He whispered your name silently with wide eyes rounded on his face. His mind went to the first time you met him. You played him in a round of Overwatch to get him to warm up to you, and easily beat him. Besides Jaemin, he was probably the one you were closest to.

Jeno just kept looking at his lap with evident tears denting dark spots onto his jeans. Renjun, who was sitting next to Jaemin, couldn’t take his eyes off the boy to his right, terrified that he would faint.

Jaemin felt sick. He knew he looked pale, and his head felt a bit dizzy. He tasted metallic in his mouth, and finally registered that he was biting the inside of his cheek so hard, he was drawing blood. He wanted to leave, but he was too far up on the risers to get down.

Soojin cried. It was uncharacteristic of her, but at this point she didn’t care. How had she not seen it? Was she that self centered that she had really not seen it on you? Her best friend?

Haeyong wished you had called her, wished you had told her. But why would you? She knew she didn’t deserve to hear your heartache, but she still wished.

They read out your note. Your beautiful, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching note. They read it. And the student body listened.

I float in a boat

In a raging black ocean

Low in the water

And no where to go

The tiniest lifeboat

With people I know

Cold,

Clammy and crowded

The people smell desperate

We’ll sink any minute

So someone must go

The tiniest lifeboat

With people I know

Everyone’s pushing

Everyone’s fighting

Storms are approaching, there’s no where to hide

If I say the wrong thing

Or I wear the wrong outfit

They’ll throw me right over the side

I’m hugging my knees

And the captain is pointing

Well who made her captain?

Still, the weakest must go

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

Lemme know if you’d like a part two? Idk. Like I said this is purely indulgent so it’s not that good sorry :///

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Mattie & Lulu & Dolly (mostly)

PlanityPlan: Okay, so we wanna get down what Mattie, Lulu and Dolly are like, that’s the main point

PlanityPlan: but then we wanna pinpoint the time of this reunion for their storyline together, so we can then say what Jay is up to, Beckett not really ‘cos he’s a child but we could also say what we wanna do with you eventually here because we are planning to use him but yes, kind of unrelated but not

PlanityPlan: So it’s like, individual story, what they’re like, the lives they’re living, and then the storyline we’ll do with them together

PlanityPlan: OKAY so Mattie doing an accelerated 2-year Maths and Computer Science degree at Greenwich (57, 58) and then her PGCE which takes a year and in this year you do 2 school placements, 2nd placement at the girl's new school after gay teacher drama in Surval, so this 2nd meeting after first failed attempt at contact, in 59

PlanityPlan: Basically, energy being, making contact before starting Uni and the twins are like nah and then we show up at their new school (accidentally) and the twins relationship has suffered so now we have an in

PlanityPlan: OKAY OKAY so Mattie reaches out Summer 57, she's about to start Uni, the twins are 14 and just finished year 10, 58 teacher stuff to happen and come out year 11, 59 we move to new school year 12, Mattie starts placement too

Junie B Jones: The school I found for the twins is called Surval Montreux in Montreux Switzerland and they’d have been going there from age 12 (and leaving at 19) it’s obviously an international school but there’s a heavy focus on French in lessons as obviously because English is usually a 2nd language, but don’t even worry ladies cos there is only a maximum of 10 girls (cos it’s only gals) in your classes and 60 in the entire school

Junie B Jones: worth noting the finishing school bit from 17-19 cos your mother would love that for you and you can share a room no problem as it’s usually 2 or 3 anyways

PlanityPlan: So, do we be evil and say they have to share with another poor gal?

PlanityPlan: ‘cos we could run with that

Junie B Jones: that poor girl requesting a transfer cos they are so odd hahaha but yeah I say there’s potential there even if it was only for a while like maybe it’s lowkey a version of how they put me and Trace in separate classes cos the teachers are like UM

PlanityPlan: I see that, forcing you to stay involved, ‘cos with 60 people you’d have to be all up in each other’s business, like you’re for sure meant to see the teachers as friends/fam too

Junie B Jones: the website was very culty and that energy

PlanityPlan: which brings me to my first idea ‘cos I think it works on many levels beyond being a cliche

PlanityPlan: Okay so, I thought it’d be interesting to have a secret between them ‘cos how hard it’d be to keep

PlanityPlan: and then I thought that it’d be hilarious karma if Dolly had an affair with a female teacher but we actually let it go there

PlanityPlan: ‘cos it’d be a massive scandal even your parents can’t ignore and the girl gives off some gay vibes and it’d be like, a thing they can’t share in if Lulu isn’t gay like we share a boyfriend but we’re not sharing this teacher moment

PlanityPlan: and it’d probably get you both kicked out so we can time it when we want it and Chloe would be fuming about this lesbianism lmao

PlanityPlan: so with the whole culty school like this would be NEWS ‘cos they’re tight with the teachers clearly so it’s like ARE THEY ALL BEING GROOMED lmao

Junie B Jones: Lulu gives off the straightest vibes EVER so I am down & also the vibe that she would love that culty school

PlanityPlan: right so not only have you kept a love affair and gay from me, you’ve also ruined our school moment, it’d really shake them and their weird twin energy to it’s core, which is the fun of it all obvs

Junie B Jones: I see now why you agreed to share a boyfriend hun, also the potential for her to have a gay awakening with the roommate so hitting all those cliches

PlanityPlan: right, I’m not being gross but it’s true that all-girls school girls experiment together, facts, like Lulu probably joined it with it too but it’s like oh you actually like girls for real

PlanityPlan: but if Dolly isn’t just then living her best gay life and is trying to get shit back to how it was, I think it makes it different

Junie B Jones: the tea and also it seems like the kind of school where a teacher would go there, especially if it’s a younger/artsy one like that film Cracks that Imogen Poots was in, soz Nancy but most teachers won’t

PlanityPlan: it’s a cliche with posh schools for a reason, the bond is closer by the fact there’s not 30 kids in a classroom, there’s more opportunity for it to happen because you have actual relationships with all your teachers, whereas in normal schools they barely know your name lol

Junie B Jones: gross but necessary question being how long do you see the relationship spanning in secret before the big reveal

PlanityPlan: it should probably be somewhere between enough that it’s an actual thing that happened and not like, it happened once, like the teacher probably thinks they’re gonna be together if she doesn’t go to jail lol, but not so long that it is like, how’d you not know

PlanityPlan: it’ll be fun to like, play out, see how long we feasibly could

PlanityPlan: and if Lulu finds out before EVERYONE finds out, then she has to decide what to do with this info for a bit too, which would also be good

Junie B Jones: I love that because the twin vibe is very much like oh we can read each other’s minds haha bitch you thought

Junie B Jones: totally can picture Lulu snitching on you ngl gal

PlanityPlan: accidentally fucking yourself over when they kick the lot of yas out, a mood

PlanityPlan: NEW CO-ED SCHOOL IN SURREY, STILL BOARDING

PlanityPlan: maybe Lulu does care more about school in general, but also specifically that school and being one of the girls forever

PlanityPlan: ‘cos then it’s gonna be hard to win her back when you end up in another school, with boys dundundun

Junie B Jones: she very much comes across like that to me, not only because she’s clearly the clingy controlling twin here but I think she clearly likes how small and family like this school is trying to be cos of how chaotic and lacking their home life is, she’s definitely scared of boys & navigating socialising with them without making a tit of herself because of how little dealings she’s had so it’s gonna be a SHOCK

Junie B Jones: dobbing her sister in because 1. You think the teacher will get sacked and it’ll be over 2. You think you can score some points back and stay in the school’s good books

PlanityPlan: It’s honestly sad how much sense it makes, like you really buy all in with the family vibes and then ya twin fucks it all up, rude

Junie B Jones: okay idk how plausible this is but remember in Wild Child aka the greatest film of all time that boy is like the headteacher’s son, what if the boyfriend (Danny Griffin is his IRL name but I’ll give you a french af one in character boy) they share is like the son of someone who works at the school (obvs he doesn’t go there but like he’d have to live nearby and generally loiter) which is part of the reason Lulu picks him cos all the girls would want to but also she could tell him something about this and he’s like UM you have to dob her in

PlanityPlan: I see that, they can’t all be spinsters like this is an enid, they’d have families and stuff, I can vibe it because again, a thing if there’s any male in the vicinity we all lose our minds lol

Junie B Jones: and like obvs that’s why she got with him but there’s potential for an actual relationship to form with this boy on some level if we want

PlanityPlan: Yes, maybe you actually like him, because clearly Dolly doesn’t, have him to yourself hun, but also then you’ll have to move so rude

PlanityPlan: Another reason to be fuming when you were the clingy twin before, role reversal

Junie B Jones: and another reason to not want to leave because I can’t imagine that your parents will move you to another school in Switzerland because it’s tiny and the scandal so literally in a different country

PlanityPlan: yeah, we’d probably move you to the uk like we’re going to be more involved like doubt that lads but you know

Junie B Jones: my thoughts exactly

PlanityPlan: so the question is do we want to do this before Mattie gets in contact or after

PlanityPlan: I’m leaning towards before so then 1. You’ve got a chance of getting in but 2. You can also help or not help them get on better terms, whatever we vibe

Junie B Jones: maybe when she first gets in contact it’s a secret still so we get the best of the both worlds, cos like you’re gonna get stonewalled then hun but when it all pops off you can be there

Junie B Jones: just cos I’m thinking if it’s all happened by the time they’re 16 that’s slightly drama but then again we’ve done worse lol

PlanityPlan: That’s a good idea, it makes the most of it for sure

PlanityPlan: I’m not sure what the age of consent is but that might affect how in deep shit this teacher gets

Junie B Jones: it’d be a way to show how their dynamic and relationship changes from a POV that isn’t just their own

PlanityPlan: for sure and then we can have the outcome be not just down to their new school and their parentals

Junie B Jones: poor Mattie getting way more drama than she expected

Junie B Jones: are you having her go to a UK uni because obviously relevant because this isn’t getting resolved in a summer hol

PlanityPlan: I’m kind of vibing no uni, honestly

PlanityPlan: because a lot of gen 4 do go and it isn’t the only option

Junie B Jones: love that for her tbh

PlanityPlan: So yeah, you’ll be around for sure

Junie B Jones: do you have a job/career in mind yet?

PlanityPlan: not really, like I see you being a bit lost in that sense, which is fine because you’ve got a lot in other respects and you’re looked after, but it’s definitely a vibe of not knowing what you want to do, but not just doing uni ‘cos as most people in that situ do, so you probably have lots of random jobs

Junie B Jones: that’s legit cos loads of people don’t know what they wanna do but don’t have the luxury of taking time to figure it out but she does & lowkey it doesn’t matter if she never does cos like you said she’s fine in a lot of other ways

PlanityPlan: like I won’t let you be insufferable with it and not work and just bum about but you’re just striking me as work-driven, which a lot of characters are again, so I’m not mad

Junie B Jones: I like it

PlanityPlan: So it’s just working out what your actual main motivation is, which I think could be tied into getting in contact with this fam

PlanityPlan: as we’re saying Jay doesn’t really want to, so it’s a difference there

PlanityPlan: and it’ll be good to have it not a total failure if you do make something with the twins but we know you won’t with Chloe so there’s the struggle with that

Junie B Jones: it pleases me because the obvious and cliche thing to do would be to have Jay be the one trying to do this as she actually has memories of and issues with Chlo whereas Mattie is basically Ava’s child

PlanityPlan: and I don’t think it resembles like, Edie’s feelings about Drew and Caleb etc either, it’s not like I NEED you to be my mum because you biologically are

PlanityPlan: it’s just lowkey a curiosity like, people can’t just vanish from our lives like that, like what are they doing, ‘cos you know their main house is still in London too, like it’s just like, why shouldn’t I look into this

Junie B Jones: agreed, it’s not coming from a place of having a deficit, she’s happy and has everything she needs in that sense, so it makes sense for her to only gain from it

PlanityPlan: and it is naive but that is how I vibe her being in a not really annoying way lol, not a jaded character though

PlanityPlan: and it will be shit when Chloe is Chloe but it won’t destroy her or anything it’s just like oh god, what is wrong with her though

Junie B Jones: and that’ll strengthen her relationship with Jay because she doesn’t wanna talk about all of that and you’ll get why in a way that you can’t unless you experience the crazy that is Chloe for yourself

PlanityPlan: exactly, like that can be a source of strain between you when you’re first deciding to do this

PlanityPlan: and you’d give Chloe a few chances ‘cos like I said you aren’t looking for a mum so you’d be trying to lowkey work it out and being empathetic so she’d probably actually love that ‘cos she’s a narcissist so it’d be a bit dicey

PlanityPlan: suddenly wants to tell you every drama in her life like poor me

Junie B Jones: how real

PlanityPlan: ‘cos you can think you’re like objective and just putting the mystery together but you’re gonna get dragged in, clearly

PlanityPlan: especially combine this with the twin drama which you do genuinely care about

Junie B Jones: mhmm, Lulu is gonna drag you in gal, not like she can bring these emotions and drama to her new school when it’s a scandal and this is supposed to be a fresh start

PlanityPlan: which is what you were warned about/one of the reasons we left it ‘til you were grown but you’ll have to work this all out, which will be good

PlanityPlan: ‘cos you can’t be dealing with your younger sister’s drama instead of living your own life but clearly at a point here we are ‘cos bit lost

Junie B Jones: you’re so clever boo, this is such a good idea that flows

PlanityPlan: heheh, I think it makes sense if you’ve had such a chill upbringing and the twins have not that this chaos can take over your life and drag you in

PlanityPlan: I’d like to think we all get to a healthy place gals but we’ll see tbh

PlanityPlan: as for who Dolly is… I think she never bought into the school as hard, like it’s probably better than home, not that we’d know, but we’re not like omg this is IT

PlanityPlan: same with the boyfriend clearly, none of it is as real but the twin bond is so like may as well until the gay drama comes along

PlanityPlan: but then that’s lowkey over before it’s begun so then we go into overdrive of trying to win her back

Junie B Jones: which Lulu is not having sis

PlanityPlan: like in reality we should accept our truth and start working on separate personalities but we’re like no no

Junie B Jones: potential for how far aka too far she can try and take winning her back, like that creepy book energy

PlanityPlan: deffo, like we’ll have to think of ways but if we’re going all-in on this, there isn’t reason not to

PlanityPlan: ‘cos we don’t care about school or whatever mum and dad are saying or doing

Junie B Jones: not gonna kill you off gal but oh the possibilities for danger cos lbr your grandparents can’t stop you either clearly

PlanityPlan: bless them they’re alright people but obvs a bit useless for all this to happen lmao

Junie B Jones: hence I vibe that Lulu totally walks all over/ has them wrapped around her little finger like Chloe did but more subtly because she has no nuance

PlanityPlan: deffo, oh lads

Junie B Jones: which is a shame when they could literally give you the family energy you want without need for a creepy cult school but hey, you’ve been taught to treat them like that

PlanityPlan: exactly

PlanityPlan: they should’ve lowkey took you in but we’re too posh for that and you’ll probably be fine right lmao

Junie B Jones: at least Dolly can stay with them when her parents are literally hate criming her

PlanityPlan: sad that you won’t ‘cos getting back in that closet so hard like will you forgive me if I’m straight and we’re still the same

Junie B Jones: it’s really sad like this isn’t sustainable huns and shouldn’t have been allowed to be a thing for this long

PlanityPlan: at least Mattie does have fresh enough eyes to be like, respectfully, maybe let’s not do this

Junie B Jones: just like Lulu don’t haze your sister thank you

PlanityPlan: right, I think this gives us energy to go on for all y’all

PlanityPlan: *** so the energy now is she can get more drawn in because she's literally there living at the school too, and after the placement, she's getting a permanent position at the school, so we can actually work through this together and have relationships etc etc

#gen 4 #mattie pemberton howard #dolly blossom farrington stone

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