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smusherina · 15 days

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yard work - chapter 6 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): 2004 was not a good time for the gays. homophobia persists. insecurity about weight and insulting oneself about it.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 7

You dipped into your savings and got Regina a new, fancy moisturizer. You couldn't count on her using it instead of the lard, but well. Guide a horse to water, can't make it drink, and all that.

You didn't tell her about the Homecoming prank, though. She'd been pissed about that. Not for long, because then it turned into a sort of trend at Northshore and it only boosted her popularity.

You were perhaps more upset about it. Upset you'd let it happen, upset they'd done it in the first place, upset Regina stood there with Aaron. He didn't even look like he wanted to be there.

Regina managing to turn it around for her benefit didn't stop you from feeling bad. It was the principle of the thing. You'd taken some distance from her. Everybody, actually. People just didn't feel all that great to be around. You were betraying Regina by letting her be essentially bullied by Janis, you were tolerating Regina's abusive reign over the student body, Aaron was getting on your last nerve by simply existing, and your mom's death anniversary was coming up.

You went to the Georges' less. Regina came to yours when you didn't lie about having to catch up on homework or doing a project. You did do some yard work for them since you still needed the extra cash. Just basic things like raking leaves and doing small repairs here and there. You also covered the pool with Mrs George's help.

"Whew, I forget what a chore that is every year!" She wiped at her forehead. You laid on the grass, chest heaving. You'd carried maybe seventy per cent of that thing.

"You said it, Mrs George." You managed to get out.

"How many years have I been telling you to call me Jude. Or just mom." You looked up at her. She looked so much like Regina. Or Regina looked so much like her.

She'd known your mom. Cried harder at her funeral than your dad or even yourself. You hadn't really gotten it, at that point. She'd hugged you tight and told you what an amazing woman she was, that she hadn't deserved to go yet. She sent you food for weeks after, which you appreciated because dad was too busy sorting stuff out to cook for you.

She'd been more of a mom to you than your own had ever gotten to be. Still, it felt wrong to call her anything other than Mrs George. It was weird. Word association gone all wrong. Mom meant a casket being lowered into a hole on a bleak November day, an echoing house and an empty kitchen, sad and wistful things. Mrs George meant afternoons spent running around in the backyard, eating 'till your belly was full to bursting, happiness and summer.

"Many, many years." You groaned as you got up. "Is Reggie home?"

You figured it would be weird if you didn't go say hi, at least. You didn't want to cut her out entirely. It was just hard being around her when the weight of your own actions, and inactions, weighed on your shoulders.

She smiled in a way that told you she'd noticed your deflection. "In her room."

"Great. Oh, by the way, what did you do with the apples this year?"

"I convinced Rick to donate them to the women's shelter downtown. They'll be put to good use there."

"That's awesome," You put your hands to your hips and looked around. "Anything you want me to do?"

"I'll just hose down the rose bushes, you head on inside. Avoid the living room, Rick's on a conference call." She waved you off with a smile.

You trod through the house carefully, shoes in hand. You knew the Georges were a shoes-on household, but it just never felt right for you to walk on carpeted floors with your shoes on. What if you had stepped on dogshit? What then?

"Reg?" Her door was open a crack, so you peeked in. "You decent?"

"Yes, I'm decent." You could hear the eye roll in her voice. "What do you want?"

Yikes. She wasn't happy.

You walked in and closed the door behind you. She was on her bed, reading a book on her belly. She was snacking on some candy bar.

"I just came to say hi. I put the pool cover on with your mom." You walked up to her. "What're you reading?"

"I could hear you huffing and puffing all the way up here." She turned on her side to look at you. "The Catcher in the Rye. It's boring."

"I dunno, I liked it." You climbed in hesitantly. When she didn't protest, you settled down on your side facing her, head leaned against your palm.

"You've read it?" She tossed the book on the floor next to the bed, now giving you her full attention. "Can you write my paper?"

"Depends on how much you'll pay me." You grinned and rubbed your fingers together like you were handling cash.

"Boo, you whore." She pouted. "Aren't we supposed to be beyond that?"

"I don't do charity, my friend." You flopped onto your back and crossed your arms. Shit, she had a comfy bed. So soft but just firm enough, too. You let your eyes close. You were so tired from all that physical labour.

"Get off my bed, you traitor." You opened your eyes too late. She was already on you, pushing you, and you had no time to resist until you were toppling onto the floor. You clambered down in a mess of limbs and sheets, which you'd grabbed in your desperate attempt to stay aboard.

"Reg! Your bed is actually high up! Help me!" You felt like Mufasa clinging to the face of the cliff, fingers digging into the slippery bedding. One of your legs was still on the bed, but not securely enough that you would've been able to pull yourself to safety.

"Just put your leg on the floor, dumbass." She cackled, watching you panic over such a small drop.

"No, look, it's not that- close." You lowered your leg and your knee made contact with the floor. Regina fell back, gasping as she laughed. "Shut up, you teapot!"

"No! I'm not-" She tried to stifle the laughs escaping her, the real wheezing ones she didn't let out of their cage willingly, but one look at you set it off again. "Your hair!"

You lifted your hands to your head. "It's not my fault your sheets are fucking static."

By the time Mrs George came to inform you that she'd be starting on dinner, thus signifying you should probably go, Regina had stopped laughing, if just barely.

"Have you been using the moisturizer I gave you?" You tried to analyze her face. It didn't look any less flawless than usual.

"Yeah, it's really great. My old night lotion started smelling weird for some reason. Maybe it expired early or something." You just hummed in response.

"I should probably go home and make myself dinner too."

"I'll walk you down."

You walked down the stairs and to the backdoor, avoiding the living room despite the blaring of the TV. Mr George was definitely not on a call anymore.

"What're you making today?" Regina asked, standing somewhat awkwardly on the porch.

"Probably tacos. I found a great deal on some corn tortillas at the store. They're all going bad today, so. Gonna stuff myself."

"Save some for me, yeah?"

You weren't sure what she meant by that. "Sure."

You walked home and as you'd said, got started on dinner. Moving around the kitchen without Regina there in the way, chopping whatever vegetables into misshapen cubes, felt weird. She wasn't over that often, but you'd gotten used to it regardless.

It was perhaps your biggest flaw as a person, how intolerant you were to being alone. Ironic, considering how much time you had to spend alone.

If it was up to you, you would've made Birria tacos with a good cut of sirloin, but you didn't have the money for fresh cuts of beef. Besides, you hadn't even started on the stew, and that took a whole day. So, you settled on some basic ground beef filling. You had made Pico de Gallo earlier that day, so it was nice and flavourful by the time you were constructing your tacos.

Back when you'd still needed a babysitter, there had been this one Mexican lady who appeared on the roster most often. It was so long ago you couldn't remember her name. She'd made you call her Abuela. She was sweet and taught you the wonder of Latin American cuisine. From what you could understand, she'd been well-travelled and really loved food everywhere.

She stopped coming when all of your babysitters did. The last time you saw her, you hadn't known it would be the last time.

This time of year really made you a monster. A dull grey, depressing monster. You'd have to find some exciting hobby because even you were getting sick of this. Maybe cliff jumping?

A knock on your door was the last thing you expected when you were finally ready to chow down. Making such a huge amount of food took time.

"What?" You barked to whoever dared to disturb you. "Oh, shit."

"Is that how you greet all your dinner guests?" Regina asked, batting her eyelashes. She had on a deep red dress, shiny satin that licked at the curves and edges of her body just right. It reached all the way to her feet, where you could see black heels peeking out from under the hem. She stood taller than usual, but still so short you could see above her head. The dress was strapless as far as you could tell as her jacket was covering her shoulders. Sweetheart neckline and a clutch to match. She had a thin gold chain around her neck with a small R-charm on it. Gold hoop earrings, hair done up in curls.

A grin crept up onto her face as you continued to gape at her visage. "I know, right?" She posed, one hand holding the clutch at level with her thigh and one poised at her waist. "I'm so sexy."

"Yeah, uh, yes, you are." You stuttered, stunned and flustered. You wanted to touch her, feel the fabric of the dress with the tips of your fingers, grab a hold of her and press close to her. She looked so fucking good.

"Thanks, baby." She took a couple of steps forward to reach you and, nonchalant as could be, brushed her hand at your shoulder as if she were brushing off dust.

Your knees wobbled.

"I have dinner for us." You blurted out. "I, uh..." You needed to pull it together. "I'm gonna go change."

"You do that," Regina said with an indulgent smile. You shot up the stairs.

When you came back down, still tucking your shirt into your trousers and tie undone, Regina was sitting on the couch perusing a magazine. It was probably from last year or something, you didn't exactly update the stuff under the coffee table.

You coughed to get her attention. "Ready for dinner, Reggie?"

"Ugh, don't ruin the moment. Anything other than that."

"I'm Jorts and you're Reggie, that's how it's been." You reminded and gently plucked her clutch from her hands before gesturing for her to turn around. She did, looking a little confused. When you reached to take her jacket off, she recoiled.

"Um, I would like to keep it on." She said, the confidence from before diminishing.

"Oh, why?" You asked. "Are you cold?"

"No, it's just, um..." Regina George stammering. You didn't think you'd live to see the day. "I don't look like I used to before."

"What does that mean?" You checked her out, toes to forehead. Drop-dead gorgeous as always.

"I've gained a bunch of weight." She looked down as if she needed to be ashamed. "I barely fit into this gown. I had to suck in even with the Spanx. And I still look like a whale."

As much as you would've liked to be incredulous and loud about just how wrong she was, it didn't seem like the right course of action. She was being open and vulnerable with you.

"I don't think you look like a whale." You stepped close to her tentatively. You set the clutch on the coffee table. Then, just as tentatively, circled your arms around her. You slotted your fingers together at her lower back and pulled her to you so that your bellies touched.

"I couldn't hug a whale." You pointed out helpfully, leaning back slightly to still look her in the eyes. "I'd love to see the dress in its full glory."

Regina, hands fussing with unmade your tie, bit her lip in contemplation.

"Careful, don't mess up your lipstick." She rubbed her lips together at that, a smile threatening to break out.

"Fine. But you can't laugh or stare or anything."

"I swear." You put one hand on your heart and the other up. "Now turn around."

She did as you asked. "You're being awfully chivalrous."

"It's what you deserve, Reggie." You crooned jokingly, pulling the jacket from her shoulders. The dress was cut elegantly so that there were no straps, but bits of fabric hanging by her upper arms. Cold-shoulder. You hoped the jokes in your tone hid how nervous you were.

"What did I just say?" As if that little moment between you two hadn't even happened, she was right back to her normal self.

"Fine. But you'll always be my Reggie. I guess tonight we can pretend." You sighed. "Whatever you say, honey."

"Better." She turned and tugged at your tie. "Now, let's get you sorted."

"I had very little notice, okay?" You grumbled but bent down obediently so she'd have an easier time tying your tie. You'd used to play dress up mixed with house all the time. You'd nearly always been the dad and so, you had to wear a tie. Obviously. Mrs George had gotten tired of constantly being asked to do it, so she'd taught Regina.

Now, it felt a little different. For one, you were taller. Secondly, this wasn't a children's game. Maybe you were playing a little bit, pretending, but it didn't quite feel like that. There was something undeniably real about this.

"There." She said once she was finished, smoothing it out against your chest. "You couldn't find one matching the dress?"

"You're impossible to please." You chuckled. "I'll make sure to go tie shopping as soon as possible."

"Good." She liked to ignore your sardonic tone pretty often. "Now, what's on the menu?"

You tucked the rest of the shirt into your pants and, voila, you were done.

"Tacos, my lady." You offered up your arm half in jest. She hooked her wrist into the bend of your elbow with an incline of her head. Clearly, she was a girl that liked to be wined and dined.

You snuck a bottle from your dad's wine collection, hoping it wasn't some speciality. Looking at the label, it wasn't very old. Wine quality was assessed like that, right?

You ate your fills and then some, drinking wine all the while, then retreated to the couch to recover, and turned on the TV to watch while eating dessert. Sharing a pint of ice cream, curled up on the couch in fancy clothes, warm and away from the cold of late November, you wondered what had brought this on.

It wasn't an official date, that much you knew. Regina wasn't a lesbian like you. Maybe she was indulging you. That would mean she knew you had a crush on her. You hoped that wasn't true. Regina was an observant person, though. Fuck, that'd be humiliating.

It didn't feel like she was playing with you. It looked like she was having as much fun as you. Maybe she wanted to have a nice, romantic dinner without the pressure of having to impress or perform for her date.

It was nice she'd chosen you. Regardless of why she'd come here tonight, you were just glad she was with you. You'd had a lot of people leave, most of them never coming back. The exceptions to the rule were Regina and your dad. They were similar in that, but nothing else. When dad came back, he brought with him a never-pleased frown and a stifling presence. When Regina came back, she brought light.

She had her flaws. You had yours. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and Christmas would soon follow. You had no doubt that Janis had something nefarious planned for at least one of those events. Nothing was sure, things were undecided.

"I'm going for a smoke." You said when the episode ended.

"I'm coming with."

"You won't be getting one."

"I don't want it anyway. Cigarettes taste like shit."

You laughed and walked to the backdoor. Through it and onto the patio, you slumped onto the bench swing. Regina followed a lot more gracefully, heels chucked somewhere in the house, bundled up in the blanket she'd claimed as hers since the first time she slept over. She sat next to you and spread it over both your laps. You hummed in thanks and lit up.

Regina might've been a massive bitch. She had, and there was no denying it, done some awful things. And maybe it was fucked up for you to like one part of a person and not the whole of them, but did that count if you were sure that the undesirable part was all a facade?

"So..." You started. "Better than any of the dates Aaron took you to?" You couldn't help but ask. Veiled under a joke, you hoped your jealousy didn't show.

"Don't be cocky." She admonished, resembling her mom almost creepily. "He didn't really take me out."

"What? Why?" If you could openly date Regina there wouldn't be a limit to how much you'd be taking her out, showing her off to anybody who'd listen.

"How should I know?" She shrugged indignantly. "We broke up a little after Homecoming."

"What? I didn't hear about this."

"Really? I thought you would've since it was pretty big news for a while." You didn't want to admit you'd been purposefully avoiding rumours about the couple for the majority of their relationship. "He outlived his purpose."

"The Halloween Party and Homecoming." You clarified and she nodded.

You took a drag. Regina pulled what seemed like a candy bar out of her clutch. It was the same brand she'd been eating earlier today.

Considering she'd been insecure about her weight, you didn't comment on it. You took another drag. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something weird.

"Hey, can I look at the packaging of that?"

Wordlessly, Regina handed it over. You looked at the product info. Great, it was all in Swedish.

"Where'd you get these?"

"Cady got me a box of them. They're good for weight loss. Like, they just burn all your carbs." You furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at the product info. The numbers didn't seem like that of a weight loss product.

You didn't like she was eating something that would empty her stomach right after dinner. That couldn't have been healthy.

"You're trusting something Cady gave to you?"

She tilted her head, as if about to question you. Her mouth opened, then closed, and opened again.

"Shut up. Shut up."

You took a long drag.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared

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#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #renee rapp #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #mean girls musical #mean girls movie #mean girls broadway #wlw #fic: yard work

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cozage · 1 year

Note

OMG HIII I LOVE YOUR WRITINGGG this is gonna be my first request ever (literally having a nervous breakdown) but I wanted to request a fem reader who is the bio daughter of whitebeard and comes back after 2 years of shinobi training to meet the new crew member Fire fist ace! and can you pls make it a short fic (I cannot fathom the words of how obsessed I am with this man IFDFJDKDGJK) (also can she have a DF that's associated with lava? pls and thank you *literally bowing*)

A/N: God this was so adorable to write. I'm so obsessed with this fun little story. Literally once I started writing I couldn't stop. thank u

Characters: female reader, Ace, Marco, Whitebeard & Crew

Cw: alcohol, drunk reader

Total word count: 2.3k

Part 2 | Table of Contents | Read on A03

The Daughter’s Return Chapter 1: The Promised Position

The vivre card in your hand continued to move forward, but you could see the familiar outline of the Moby Dick ahead of you, and you grinned at the sight of being so close to your family again. You had been training for two years, and you couldn’t wait to catch up with your friends and your father after being apart for so long.

Your small boat looked even tinier as the giant ship loomed closer to you, but you weren’t concerned. Blue flames shot into the sky from the blue ship, and you sent out a stream of lava into the air in return. It was your code to the first division commander and friend, proof that you were who they were expecting.

You saw a creature with blue flamed wings shoot into the sky, and you gathered up your things. You only had a small backpack and a few bags of food, so there wasn’t much to pack up. You said goodbye to your small raft, thanking it for its usefulness during your journey.

Marco landed on your boat, and you squealed in delight seeing your brother again. He wrapped you up in a hug and spun you around, laughing gleefully at your return.

“Pops is going to be thrilled to see you,” he said, sitting you down. He ruffled your hair affectionately, smiling at you. “Missed you, kid.”

“Missed you too, Marco,” you said, grinning at him. You picked up a bag, handing it off to him to carry back to the ship.

“You’ve grown!” he commented. “I can’t look down at you anymore.”

You gave him a cheeky grin. “I’m stronger too.”

“You better be!” He laughed. “Pops didn’t smuggle you into Wano for you to come back the same!”

“Maybe he’ll finally make me commander now.” You stared up at the ship, thinking of the goal you’d been working towards since the beginning of your training.

“About that…” Marco trailed off, and you shot him a suspicious look.

“What?”

He sighed, deciding to prepare you. “Pop’s filled the second division commander seat, actually.”

“What?” you hissed. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“With who?” you demanded. You refused to believe him. “I thought nobody wanted it.”

“It’s a new guy.”

“A new guy?” you scoffed. “You’re pulling my leg, Marco. It’s not funny.”

Marco looked nervous talking about it. “Let’s go see Pops, alright? He’ll explain.”

You scowled, and your stomach clenched in anticipation. “Yeah, let’s go. I have some words to say to him.”

Marco wrapped his arms around your torso and extended his phoenix wings. “I’m glad to see you’re still a hothead.” You could hear the teasing in your voice, but you weren’t in the mood for jokes anymore.

“Shinobi training can’t fix everything,” you grumbled. You could feel your skin getting warm, a sign you were letting your emotions get to you.

You heard a lot of low whispers and mumbling, but you paid the new recruits no mind as you stormed across Moby Dick. Your father wasn’t on the deck, so you continued on to the command room.

“DAD!” you screamed, and you could see some of the newer members slink away from you in fear. A part of you felt some pride to have such an impact, but you were too pissed to revel in it.

You slammed the command room door open to find your father speaking with another man you didn’t recognize, but you paid the guest no mind. You were too focused on settling the score of the second division commander seat.

Whitebeard smiled at you. “Y/N! You’re-”

“You bastard!” you shrieked. You pulled out a kunai, pointing it at your old man. “You promised!”

The unknown man threw a knife and knocked the kunai out of your hand, and you turned to glare at him. He was shirtless and was wearing an obnoxious orange hat, and he was returning your gaze with a look of equal irritation.

“Stay out of this, newbie,” you hissed at the man.

You reached into your pouch to grab another kunai, but he lunged at you, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“I don’t know who you are,” the man said in a low, dangerous voice. “But you have no right attacking Pops the moment you get on our ship.”

“Stay out of my affairs,” you snarled.

You turned your wrist to lava rocks to burn his hand, but at first the man didn’t react. You frowned, turning up the heat to liquidize your arm into magma, and finally the man pulled away in pain. He looked down at his hand in shock, as if he wasn’t expecting to be burned. You couldn’t blame him. It’s not everyday someone’s skin turns into boiling liquid.

Whitebeard laughed loud and hearty, breaking the tension between you and the man, and you refocused your anger back to your father.

“Never a dull moment with you around, kid! It’s great to have you back,” he laughed, and your face flushed with anger.

“You promised me a commander position when I got back,” you yelled at him. “Who the hell did you give it to instead?”

Whitebeard laughed even harder. “That would be Ace.”

“Who the hell is Ace?” you hissed.

The shirtless man raised his hand. “Uh-”

“I said stay out of my affairs!” You could feel steam coming off your head. Sometimes that happened when you got too angry.

The man pointed at himself. “Me. I’m Ace.”

You could feel your insides turning hot, lava coursing through your veins.

“You’re joking,” you said. You glanced at your father, who was still smirking at the two of you. “He’s joking, right?”

You father raised his eyebrows, his gaze darting between the two of you, but he said nothing.

“Portgas D. Ace,” the man said, holding out a hand to you. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, facing your father.

“This guy?'' Your voice was full of skepticism.

“Hey!” Ace yelled from behind you. “Don’t underestimate me!”

“I could squash you like a bug,” you shot back, still refusing to look at him. “Dad-”

“The decision was made with good reason, my girl,” Whitebeard said. “You’ll be working alongside him closely in the second division.”

“No, I won’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at his suggestion.

“Yes, you will.” You could hear the seriousness in your father’s voice, the warning of consequences thick in his tone.

You decided it was best to not outright defy him, and you switched your tactic from stubborness to logic.

“I’ve always been under Marco,” you reasoned.

“You’ll be better suited in the second division now.” You could feel Ace smirking behind you, and you resisted the urge to turn around and punch his teeth out.

“Let me get this straight,” you said, trying to keep a level voice. “You give my commander position away and then tell me I have to work under the guy who took it from me?”

Ace laughed. “The second division position has been open for-”

You flicked a volcanic rock back at him, and he yelped in pain.

“Marco is a fire user like me,” you worked to plead your case further. “And I know him. I would work better under him.”

“The first division is a medical division now,” your father explained. You could see you were testing his patience, but you didn’t care. “Your talents are better served on the offensive front, which Ace leads.”

“But-”

“Plus,” your father added, cutting you off. “Ace is a fire user as well.”

You felt warmth spring up behind you, but you refused to give Ace the satisfaction of being acknowledged.

“Dad-”

“I’m not wavering on this decision,” he said with finality.

You felt your father’s conqueror’s haki spread out over the ship, and you knew that you had lost the argument. You could hear Ace stumble slightly behind you, and you resisted the urge to argue even further over the man’s weakness. At this point it would only make your father angry, even if you were right.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed, giving up. There’d be plenty of time to talk with him about the position and prove your worth. “Can we at least have a party?”

Whitebeard’s overwhelming presence disappeared and his jolly laugh returned in an instant, already forgetting your alls squabble. He stood up, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, leading you past Ace and out onto the deck.

“My daughter has returned home!” he shouted, and the crew cheered. “Prepare a feast!”

At least the party life on the Moby Dick hadn’t changed at all. You could still beat just about anyone in a drinking contest, and by halfway through the night, your mind was cloudy from the alcohol.

You took a step away from the party and the fun to get a moment alone with the stars. You took a drink of the ale in your tankard, staring up at the million lights in the sky and thinking about how different the constellations looked during your time in Wano. You were so close to that country and those people, yet so far.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” a male voice said behind you, startling you from your thoughts.

You glanced back to find Portgas D. Ace walking towards you, looking up at the night sky. He was attempting to be casual about the whole thing, as if he had randomly found you here, but you could tell that he had most likely searched you out on purpose.

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. He wasn’t even worth giving the time of day. He hadn’t done anything to prove he was anything special yet.

But Ace obviously wasn’t willing to give up that easily, because he came and stood directly next to you. His eyes were still on the sky, just like yours were.

“I just feel like since we’re going to be working together, we should probably get to know each other a little better,” he said.

You thought of plenty of snarky responses, but said none of them. You knew the silent treatment would be the best way to shut him down. Portgas D. Ace was not your friend. You wanted nothing to do with him.

“Are you happy to be back on the ship?”

Still nothing came out of your mouth. You didn’t even look his way, you simply took another long drink. But you could see him starting to pout. It was only a matter of time before he gave up and returned to the party. You just had to keep your mouth shut.

“All the guys said you had a pretty smoking ability. But I dunno, I think my fire ability is pretty hot.”

You scoff at that. “I’m hotter,” you shot back.

Damn him. He could rile you up, and he knew exactly how to. You could see him smirk in the corner of your eye, and you cursed yourself for being so easy to manipulate.

“That’s what they all said too,” he said quietly, a smile still lingering on his face.

You turned to look at him, your face full of frustration. “What do you want?”

He seemed surprised by your question. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you speaking to me?” you demanded. “What do you want?”

“Wh-No-I just-” Ace stammered, trying to find his words.

You stared at him, your scowl deepening every time he started his sentence over.

“You’re Whitebeard’s daughter, aren’t you?” he finally asked.

“Yeah. And?”

“I’ve just heard a lot about you,” he said.

“And?”

“I dunno,” he said. “You intrigued me.”

You scowled at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I dunno!” He let out an exasperated sigh, turning his gaze to the stars. “You were just this larger than life story people always told since I got on this ship. Everyone always had something to say about you. I guess I just wanted to know how much of it was true.”

“All of it is true,” you said.

Ace let out a laugh, and then clamped his hand over his mouth to stop himself. “I really hope not.”

Your eye twitched, and you could feel your skin starting to tingle. “If people are lying about me, they’ll pay for it.”

“Marco talked about you like you were this sweet little kid.”

“Marco’s delusional.”

Ace laughed again, and this time he didn’t stop himself. You found yourself smiling along with him.

“He definitely sees the best in people,” Ace said.

You shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You could see Ace tense. “Oh, nothing! I-”

You let out joyous rings of laughter now, and you see Ace give a strained smile, mostly unsure of how to react to your sudden friendliness.

“You’re funny, Portgas D. Ace.” You go to take another sip of alcohol, just to find your cup empty. You frowned at it, and turned to go find more booze.

“I’ll get it,” Ace offered, holding out his hand to take your cup. “I’m empty too.”

You nod, handing it off to him. The party was so loud anyway. You preferred the quiet atmosphere this late in the night. He strode away, and you watched him go, your father’s emblem displayed proudly on his back. He still wasn’t anything special, but at least he wasn’t scared of you like half of the crew.

You hadn’t realized how much alcohol you had drank throughout the night until you were alone, and suddenly the world was spinning. You laid down on the deck to get your bearings, and then found yourself stuck there.

When Ace came back, he found you sprawled out, staring upwards.

“You okay?” he asked. He bent down to look at you, his face obscuring part of the sky.

You giggled. “Your freckles look like stars.”

“You’re drunk.”

“No you’re drunk.”

He chuckled. “Your insults get worse as the night goes on.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and then patted the deck next to you. “Come lay down.”

He obliged, his head resting next to yours. “What are we looking for?” he questioned.

“Shhhh!” you hissed, pressing a finger to his mouth. “You’ll scare them away.”

You felt his lips turn upward against your finger, but he was quieter when he spoke.

“What are we looking for?” he whispered.

“Shooting stars!” you whispered back.

“Oh,” Ace whispered. “Of course.”

“Tell me when you find one,” you said quietly. “I’m going to rest my eyes for a minute.”

You’re not sure if he ever found one. You were asleep before he responded.

#im a sucker for stargazing SUE. ME!!!!#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d ace x you #ace x reader #ace x y/n #cozage #the daughters return #✧˚ace✧˚

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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Partners in Crime

Pairing: Mob!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: A night out with one of your father's most trusted associates puts you on a new and dangerous path. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Implied e/xplicit s/exual content, d/runk s/ex (con-sensual), d/rinking, talk of v/iolence, p/ossessive behavior, possible soft!dark vibes if you squint, engagement, not-so-great dad, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Nick edit - Nix, Moodboard - yours truly A/N: Welcome to my Wicked Arrangements AU! For @the-slumberparty 's April Writing Challenge (prompt in bold italics) and we'll see a few other characters down the road. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby and pre-read by @slyyywriting , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first thought that entered your mind when you woke up was that you were never drinking whiskey again. You couldn't even remember how much you had, but you weren’t going to bounce back immediately from this hangover. You tried to avoid getting drunk whenever you could. At least it wasn't at your dad's party.

Not that you stuck around for most of it anyway.

Nick Fowler, one of the most powerful men in the city and your dad's most trusted associate, was waiting by your car when you left.

"Why don't we have a real party?

A man as ruthless and dangerous as he is beautiful, there was a reason why so many wanted him on their side. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty or the kind of man to cross. Though he didn't say much to you with your dad around, it didn't stop him from eye fucking you every chance he had.

It was only natural that you wanted him.

"Sure. I could use a distraction."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'll give you much more than that."

With a groan, you cracked one eye open and then the other. The pounding headache made it difficult to see as you tried to blink away the spots in your vision. If you had to choose an equivalent to what your throat felt like, sandpaper would be the closest. At least you didn't get sick. The bed you laid in was also comfortable and the sheets kept your naked body warm enough.

You forgot about the pain in your head as the ache between your legs grabbed your attention.

Oh, yeah. That happened.

Closing your eyes, a blurred vision of tangled limbs surfaced, the blue eyes of Nick piercing through the fog.

“Knew you’d take my cock like a good girl.”

And you did over and over.

Doing your best not to move too fast, you carefully turned your head and opened your eyes again. You expected to see him sleeping beside you, but he wasn’t there. Gently touching the spot, you noticed it still had a bit of warmth. Maybe he went to the bathroom or decided to get breakfast.

It took a moment to register that something sparkled on your left hand as sunlight peeked in through the curtain. “What the hell?” you mumbled as you stared at the diamond ring on the fourth digit.

A ring that looked suspiciously like an engagement ring.

No, no, no, we did not.

“Morning, sweetheart,” a familiar voice gently pierced the air as you kept staring at your finger. "Surprised to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

You tore your gaze away to look at Nick, who had an all too smug look on his eyes.

"I don't know yet," you said honestly, clearing the scratch from your throat.

Nick hummed as he walked across the room in just his underwear. A hint of a smirk formed on his handsome face as you admired him. The black suits he normally wore hid how broad his shoulders and chest were. They also hid most of his tattoos, which you vaguely recall tracing a few with your fingers and tongue. Your gaze trailed down his chiseled abs to the front of his boxers, the throbbing ache between your thighs intensifying.

No. Focus.

"You did say too much whiskey would give you a headache," he said, handing you some aspirin and water.

You quickly took the pills with a generous gulp, the cold liquid soothing the slight burn in your throat. "Did we…?" you trailed off.

"Did we what?" he asked, running a hand through his short hair. You were pretty sure you tried to pull it while you rode him. "We did a lot of things last night, so you'll need to be more specific."

Your cheeks flamed as you held up your hand, proud when it didn't shake. "This."

He slowly ducked down and you couldn't stop the hitch in your breath as his lips touched your forehead. "Get married? No," he said, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

You could breathe a bit easier. While your dad wouldn't lay a hand on you if you married without his permission, he could and would wreck the life you tried to have beyond the bubble he put you in. Piece by piece.

"But you also said I couldn't have you unless I put a ring on your finger, so I did."

"I was kidding!" you said. No way he actually believed that.

"I took it seriously," he murmured, moving his mouth to your ear. "And it's a perfect fit. Just like my cock inside you."

"Oh, my god," you whispered.

"You said that, too," he whispered, dragging his lips down the column of your neck. The scruff on his chin left a delicious burn in its path. "I reminded you to say my name instead."

The gravel of his voice sent a shiver down your spine before you moved to the other side of the bed and out of his reach. "I need a minute," you said, feeling his eyes on you as you stood up.

"I'll be waiting."

You didn't bother to cover yourself up as you went to the bathroom, your head not spinning as much as you expected it to. Nick saw everything last night and into the early morning, so you had no shame if you watched your hips sway. Splashing some water on your face, you had no idea where to go from here. While Nick was fun and a wonderful distraction, you couldn't help but wonder if last night was a calculated move.

It wasn't a secret that your dad wanted a son to take over his empire one day. He got you instead. He should have been a good father who loved and cared for you, but he treated you as an investment. You had a good education after you chose a college from the options he provided you. The same with your job as he limited the places you could apply to.

While he didn't keep you in a cage, he certainly kept you on a leash.

Maybe if mom was still around, things would be different.

You would only take over his businesses with a man of his choice by your side. He usually only had you around his inner circle of men long enough for them to flirt and leer at you. You were certain he was prepping you for the highest bidder.

Are you that bidder, Nick?

"Why were you waiting for me last night?" you asked once you went back into the bedroom where Nick was now on the bed. "Did my dad ask you to?"

"I was waiting for you because I wanted you. I thought that was obvious," he answered, unashamedly looking you over as you joined him. He reached for you, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he touched your cheek. "And I got tired of waiting."

Nick Fowler got whatever he wanted.

"But did he ask you to?" you repeated, showing him your hand again. "And how the hell did you just happen to have a ring on you my size?"

"Your dad had nothing to do with it. I've had that ring on me and my eye on you for some time," he said, kissing your hand and drawing a gasp from you as he put you on your back. "In case you forgot, I slipped it on after you drank the rest of my Jack Daniels and gave me a lap dance in my private booth. You didn't complain."

You recalled grinding to the beat as Nick sat back and watched. He looked like a modern king on a throne as the lights pulsed around him. No one would have bat an eye if he fucked you in his VIP section.

Which he did.

"We're not actually engaged, Nick. I said I was kidding about putting a ring on my finger."

His eyes darkened as he stretched over you, his muscles rippling before his weight settled. "You said you'd be mine."

Your heart raced, but it wasn't out of fear. "You don't even know me. Not really," you said, thankful that tears didn't fill your eyes.

How could he when no one was able to get close to you?

His knuckles caressed your cheek and you tried not to lean into his touch. "Told you I've had my eye on you for some time, dulceata. I know you better than you think."

You wanted to believe he did, but could you trust a man who worked with your dad? Did he want you simply to gain access to more resources? Gain more power?

"You're manipulative."

"I prefer calculating and there isn't anything wrong with that," he said before his lips touched yours.

His kiss brought back a reminder of the pleasure he gave you, your body humming with the promise of more. The man had layers to him, but something inside you said he wouldn't hurt you. He may be more inclined to hurt anyone who hurt you.

Maybe.

"I guess you have to be in your line of work," you said, a bitter laugh escaping. It was better than crying. "But if you're serious about whatever this is, do you really think my dad will let us be together? Well, he might if he thinks he can get something from you. He does value you. Pretty sure he even likes you more than he likes me."

It didn't hurt to say that as much as you thought it would.

"I don't give a fuck what your dad thinks," he said, his handsome face gazing down at yours. "I know he thinks he can control your life, but he's in for a rude awakening. And I can promise you I would never be that kind of father to our daughter."

"Please, don't talk about us having kids," you begged. You still had too much of a headache for that, but your womb clenched of its own accord.

"Why not?" he smirked. "You're going to be my wife."

I'm not even going to argue for the time being.

"Well, I need to rest, future husband," you said before he suddenly slid down your body and parted your legs. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just looking at the pretty pussy I ruined," he said, tracing a finger along your slit. Your body quickly responded to his touch and you weren't ashamed of the small moan you let out. "Which belongs to me now. If it wasn’t meant to be, you wouldn’t fit me so perfectly.”

"Is that right?" you asked, clenching around nothing.

Should I beg him to fuck me or play a little hard to get?

"You know it does. And if you want to go back to sleep, go right ahead. I'll fuck you until you're stuffed with me and wake you with my tongue," he said, making your back bow as his warm breath skimmed your folds. "You'll be begging me to fuck you all over again."

Your body went pliant against the sheets. "Nick?" you breathed out. "How do I know I can trust you?" You questioned before you would allow him to distract you.

"I guess I'll have to prove my loyalty to you," he replied, his eyes dark and calculating as he looked up at you. "I'll start by killing your father".

Surely Nick doesn't mean that. Right? Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #mob!nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #mob!nick fowler #navy and roo's sleepover #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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poetry-protest-pornography · 8 months

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Okay, okay. I can't stop thinking about Kang and his approval seeking.

He plays a part to maintain his grandma's adoration, he tries so hard to do things that his dad will be proud of only to have the man shoot down every attempt.

And then, there's Sailom.

Even when he was actively bullying him, he was mostly angry that Sailom wasn't reacting the way he wanted him to. Sailom wasn't afraid of him, he wasn't giving in, he wasn't even properly mad. Sailom didn't give Kang a good grade in bullying him.

And now that they're... Whatever they are, Kang has rapidly shifted to wanting Sailom's positive attention and approval.

They do the money dance again when Kang leaves Sailom's house, only this time, Kang frames it as an almost apology:

When Sailom insists he won't keep the money unless Kang accepts his tutoring, Kang has a whole little moral crisis about standing him up (after carefully smiling and laughing off the comments from Max about how much he enjoys his own hot tutor), Kang shows up to the library hours late, and (after a fortifying breath) actually apologizes:

And then, when Sailom assures him that he wasn't waiting on him, Kang asks to dive into studying with this face:

After completing his assessments, we get this:

Look at those pleading eyes. Please please please tell me I did good.

And when Sailom's first reaction is confirmation? Look at how happy Kang is? Look at how he lights up!:

And then, the reveal:

He failed to get Sailom's approval, and he's devastated.

But it's more than that, too. He's realizing -- a little bit, at least, and it really comes together for him later with his dad -- that the way he's skating through life, the way he's letting his dad's lack of expectation and faith in him turn him into someone without direction, someone who can't meet simple expectations, even when they really want to, is making him miserable. The lack of effort has put him at a real disadvantage, he is woefully behind in school.

And for someone who puts a lot of work into coming off as the smartest, coolest, most in control guy in the room, he is at a loss. And all that wrong-footedness gets all wrapped up in his getting about Sailom. So first, he runs, and then, he doubles down on needing Sailom ('s approval).

We get the renewed commitment for tutoring when he shows up early. We get "let me drive you home", complete with "hold on tight " and both of them looking unbearably soft while the other can't see them. We get the dinner date with extra takeaway to share with Saifah. We get ... This:

And then later, after so much vulnerability and a whole ass chase, and a disaster of a surprise party, there's this:

Kang, getting a taste of what Sailom's attention feels like, of what meeting his expectations might gain him, and looking absolutely lost about it.

Kang has been trying to do well to prove himself to his dad, and his dad just constantly undercuts his efforts, and we see him give up, even after spending this whole episode fighting against the apathy and associated failures and disappointments that that has gotten him so far. But Sailom won't let him.

Sailom literally fights him in order to get him to keep going, to keep trying. Sailom sets himself as the motivation, as Kang's reason to keep going (Sailom took a very long pause when Kang asked "Do you want me to say I want you to be proud of me?" and let that particular word problem start working itself out in the background, and the answer came out "Yes" sometime thereafter).

And Kang is overwhelmed by the prospect of having someone's expectations, of being able to earn someone's approval.

And Sailom is overwhelmed by all the things he's feeling for this boy he literally spit on last week, but has now discovered is a whole mess, and also soft sad-boy under all that (I am on the fence as to whether he knew Kang was Umbrella Boy before he saw the picture).

They are both feeling so many things, and half of them are confusion, and I am also feeling many things.

#dangerous romance the series #dangerous romance #kangsailom #sailomkang

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powderblueblood · 3 months

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YES, NURSE RATCHED - a hellfire & ice retelling of chapter eight's most pivotal moment, from eddie's pov

a special treat for my love @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, reader's last name is also mentioned, this is lore-filled and handsy so if that's not your thing keep it truckin, minors dni i do not like you go away warning for strong language, smut inthe form of public fingeringgggg, drug usage, extremely bad parenting (al munson klaxon), evoking the feeling of a comedown, billy hargrove gets his shit rocked, excuse all typos it's redacted o'clock and i'm a little buzzed word count: 2.6k

The first thing you should know about the following occurrences is that they are preluded by a whole lot of next thing Eddie knows. Things snapping his attention to the left, to the right, knocking him over the head, rearing up on him with little to no warning.

Number one? His dad showing up at Reefer Rick’s, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived and frantic, putting on a pantomime of being so psyched to see his boy! Rick snapping to attention and falling into his role of affable associate of Munson Senior immediately, despite the apology he’d tried to press against Eddie right when Al crunched the gravel of his driveway. What followed was a bender that Eddie couldn’t help but give into. Al has that effect on people, even him, even Eddie in his angry, angsty resoluteness that he should know better.

You try knowing better when you're all bewitched, bothered and bewildered and shit.

Cue cut lines and records blaring until daylight broke over Lover's Lake– then Eddie, rising at noon but barely landed from his previous (ill-advised and bad-parentally-supervised) high, got it in his head that he ought to show up for school. At least for a little bit.

Because they’d tossed your last name around a little last night, Al and Rick. Doevski this, Doevski that, in weird, vague terms that Eddie didn’t all the way understand. And the more weed he smoked and the more Jim Beam that got passed around, the less he remembered.

Which, dumb, right?

You’d tell him that was dumb.

You’d tell him he should have stayed sharp, listened up, gathered information.

He passed out on Rick’s sagging couch, mind searing with nothing but thoughts of you nagging him for intel.

Eddie woke up cotton-mouthed with your name on his lips.

He needed to see you.

To catch one of your avoidant, barely-there glances as you flit through the hallway or maybe even spy you smoking a cigarette on the outdoor bleachers, reading in silence with Ronnie or Wheeler.

He’d think of what to say to you in the moment; probably spurned on by the sneer you’d give him– which he’d totally have earned, for having the nerve to ignore you for so long.

Forgive me, he'd say, hands held aloft in Christlike composure, I just couldn't look you in the eye knowing you were getting willingly boinked by some Ivy League sweater monkey.

And then you'd have to admit your little bullshit college boyfriend wasn't Ivy League, and he'd prod you with that for a while, and things would eventually ebb back to whatever shade of normal you two were pretending to be. So? Okay!

But.

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s peeling into the parking lot and the first thing that he sees, bada bing, is you. All however many feet of you, steel true and planted on the hood of Billy Hargrove’s fucking Camaro, wielding a baseball bat like a sword.

Eddie’s heart stops for the full entirety of a what fresh hell is this filter-focused second before he skids the van to a halt and launches himself from it.

He advances this helluva scene just in time to hear you holler out, right in front of God and everyone,

“One thing you can say for Eddie Munson, is at least the motherfucker can get hard!”

Eddie’s tread stutters and he wonders if this is what people mean when they use the expression taken out at the knees. Can he get a fucking encore, please?

But then there’s the issue of the rabies-ridden Hargrove, the kid who’s snorted so much of Eddie’s dubiously cut supply that it’s no wonder that word has gotten around that he can’t keep his johnson rigid. There’s a thread dangling somewhere that makes Eddie wonder how familiar you are with that concept but. Alas. Digression.

Hargrove calls you a cunt, and Eddie’s vision is replaced with a swathe of red.

How ‘bout you try playing it cool, hearing someone talk to your girl like that, after a night of fun family drug-taking?

Wait. His what? Hold on--

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s side-swiping Hargrove like a dirty bumper car, yak yaks something kind of funny (he hopes) and does not turn to look at you standing backlit like a holy fucking statue. Because he knows you’ll look beautiful up there, white hot with rage, holding a weapon poised for minor automotive destruction. He can’t handle beauty, not right now. Because of that thing from before with his knees.

“...now her snooty ass is spreading it for half of Hawkins! Desperate! Stringin’ you along like the dumb piece of shortbus shit you a–”

It’s impossible to say whose hair trigger that tugged first, yours or Eddie’s. That’s like chicken vs egg. That’s like Han vs Greedo. That’s like, irrelevant.

That baseball bat clatters to the pavement, a hearty overture to Eddie’s surge of empowerment, of rage, of insisting that she isn’t, I’m not, she isn’t, I’m not, nobody talks about her like that–

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s sitting beside you. Outside the principal’s office. Hand split open and aching, nose backed up and a little bleeding, coming down like the fucking Hindenberg. Reckoning with the fact that he wouldn’t need to be a little morning-after zipped on coke to throw a punch for you, if it came down to it. If it came down to it, he would have tried caving in Billy Hargrove’s other eye socket. He would have made him look like the Elephant Man if you needed him to.

He liked that Eraserhead movie you made him watch.

“He needs an ice pack…”

The soft mumble from you makes Eddie take this breath that makes his chest feel like it might concave. You, you. Reckless, unbuttoned, unlaced, off-kilter you, that still had time to snap at him after he’d tried to freeze you out, that still had eyes that asked him did it hurt?

Eddie eavesdrops on as much of your grilling with Higgins and the hot guidance counsellor as his damaged eardrums will allow. Temporary insanity. Disgusting prank. He wonders what that’s about… and again, didn’t even think to question what brought you onto the hood of Hargrove’s car. He just saw you. He just acted.

He just keeps doing that.

And then he hears. College. Application deadlines are within touching distance.

“I can turn this around.”

Of course. Eddie hadn’t even thought about that, because he’s him. And it was something you were probably worrying yourself sick over, because you’re you– you wanted out of here. To get up, go, be someone great.

“New York, ideally,” you’d said to him once, tightrope walking across the broken bleachers outside; you’d been waiting around for him to give you a ride home, but he had a deal to make first. You were weirdly patient, weirdly pensive that day. “Someplace I can go and burrow in and absorb everything and grow out of a crack in the sidewalk, new.”

Eddie’d held your hand, helping you step over a gap in the bench, “Not taking Manhattan by storm? Hurricane Lacy?”

You–and he remembered this–had held onto his hand for a few more minutes, a cigarette dwindling in the other. Your fingers were cold; they clutched at his a little tighter when you spoke again.

“No. Not Manhattan, not midtown, not big business. I have precipitated a change in my weathervane.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means that someone taught me the difference between being important and being significant.”

Back in the room. Eddie drawls out some stupid crack to Higgins, who he’s still supplying with enough benzos to take out Jonestown a second time, which is the only reason he hasn’t been booted out of Hawkins High for absolute and final good. And then you’re alone again, the two of you. Together.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s spending the last of his energy like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, horsing around on the nurse’s saddle stool while you rifle through her office. You are all edgy and commanding because you have no idea how to say sorry you got wailed on by Hargrove for me.

Good. He likes you better like this, at least for right now. Likes to watch you attempt to pirouette on the razor’s edge of your relationship to one another, mostly because your attempt is more graceful and easier to watch than his is. And he likes to watch you. Watch you do anything, really.

Watch you snap at him to get on the bed. Fuck.

Watch you tear and dab at his busted knuckles. Fuckfuck.

Watch you talk about Cat People and press his hand to his chest and tell him he’s injured and wrong and watch you watch searing, singing alcohol on his split lip dry up. Eddie watches your eyes brighten and darken with curious affection, like those twinkle lights that fade in and out, steady as breathing. His breathing is anything but steady. His knees have come apart, letting you stand between them.

You dab and he lets this broken sound loose from him, because the proximity of your body to his feels like a fresh fucking spring breeze and god, god, the way you’re touching him with such gentle, measured movements, like you’ve choreographed every one–

You’re so exact. You’re so organized. He wants to unexact you.

Eddie uses his good hand, not that either of them are really any good, and presses as much of you into him as he can. The flush of your front, the flush of your mouth, he even has to stop those shorn denim-sheathed legs of his from wrapping around your hips. Eddie’s grip, it travels, hitching tweed up the curve of your ass.

You don’t push him away like he figured you might, you don’t indignantly demand what is going on?! You don’t. You weave your hand up the line of his thigh, to the hard edge of his crotch where he is straining, a rigidity that’s been building since you went all Nurse Ratched on him.

A rigidity that’s hard to keep down around you, badum-tsssss.

Fuck.

Eddie almost knocks the word loose with a low groan that’s pressed into the supple flesh of your cheek, your lovely blushing fucking cheek, a cheek he goes to kiss or bite or something but misses by a hair because you’re straining your neck back. To look at him. Not soberly, he hopes.

Someone down there is wishing him death by dick.

Not the wettest, wildest, filthiest dreams that he’s had about you (and categorically, there have been many) could have prepared Eddie Munson from the earth-shattering consequences of this tiny gesture. Your tongue, perfect and pink, darts to his lip, stinging and sore and comes away with the tiniest drop of ruby-red blood sitting on its tip.

And you suck his bottom lip between yours, eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie’s cock jumps as his heart does, not a second out of time, as you clamber up, into his lap– so completely un-Lacylike, so totally… unexact. How, in all the vastness of Heaven and earth and Middle Earth and Hell and the Bookstore and the closet and his bedroom and the van could he be so fucking stupid?

“Just friends, right?” Eddie is deaf to how pained it comes out sounding.

His good hand travels. He finds your thighs, the softness there giving way to easy indents for his fingers and he knows, he knows that this is where his hands should be–unless, higher could be good? Higher, high up past those offending, incriminating lace top stockings that drilled through Eddie’s mind like an ice pick, giving him whatever the opposite of a lobotomy is. Haunting him with a fervour, begging him to snap them, but there’s no fucking time for that, god it hurts but there’s no fucking time for that because you. Two. Are. In. The fucking. Nurse’s. Office.

But the world has ceased turning.

Eddie’s mouth opens in a silent attempt at a moan as his fingers push past to the beating, radiating core of you that the throbbing, radiating core of him longs for.

You’re so wet, and soft and lush and it rings through is head like a fucking hallelujah, you’re wet, you’re wet for him.

More than anything, he needs your encouragement–he needs to know that you want him to keep going. That you want him, that you want him, that–

You nod, frantic and undone, and Eddie kisses you for it just before he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing. But nothing in his body tells him to zoom out–in fact, the only thing he wants is more in. More you, more of you wrapped around him. He moves his hands with a clumsiness usually uncharacteristic of him, fucking guitar guy, fucking painting miniatures and shit guy. But it works, according to you and the way you keen against him with your beautiful, spit-shining lips parted and pulling against his.

These little noises, chirps and swallowed moans of yours– it’s like music. He wants to choke on them.

Eddie’s voice kind of cracks open again, letting a little air and a touch of begging out. He strains, pained, cock aching against the hitch of denim. “Does he do this? Does anyone do this for you, Lacy?”

Because you’re lonely, and Eddie knows that, with his fingers stroking you deep. You’re lonely, or would be, were it not for him. And it feels like now, in the heady swirl of these few moments that are stretched into an infinity, that he’s using it against you, but he’s not. He should be the one doing this for you, he should be the one making you feel this way, making you tremble even as he clumsily thumbs at your clit, because he thinks knows you and he thinks you want it unmeasured and unshackled and washing over you in a wave of sheer blind devotion and that’s why his tongue is all over your neck.

That’s why his knuckles are split.

That’s why there’s no malice in Eddie’s voice when he croaks, “Just friends? Lacy?” as you rock and spasm, hands clutching him around the shoulder and whimpers barely deadened against his lips. He can feel the texture of your pinched brow against his own.

He wants to clutch you as close as he possibly can, but he’s got one good arm and it’s between your legs.

Between your legs. Jesus fucking Christ.

Sobriety hits like a tidal wave as your breath returns to its normal rhythm; Eddie’s doesn’t quite have the same rebound. He’s still huffing a little, out of exertion or out of nerves, as he slips his hand out from under you, brushing what was off on his jeans. A small patch of his own bodily fluid collected there too, making sure he’s wearing the both of you like Hester Prynne’s scarlet letter as he walks around for the rest of the day.

Eddie, throat starting to tighten up, pulls you in for one kiss, to give you one last taste of where he’d been split open for you. Melodrama dances around it; shades of we shouldn’t have, but we did, but we can’t, but now I have to fucking live with the fact I cracked open this Pandora’s box and I’m sorry.

Or something to that effect.

And you see right through him, because you always do. Hair in a muss, lips flushed, adjusting your skirt, re-exacting yourself, you clean up any evidence that this had ever happened. At least, on a surface level.

Eddie dares to look at you once more, and you dare to look back at him. And thank god he’s sitting down, because that look shoots him right through the fucking aorta. You, wide-eyed and small-looking, pupils darting and unsure, are asking him why. Pleading with him, why. Why do this. Why now. Why at all, ever, why did you have to. Even though you know.

“I–”

“No, I know. I know. I certainly know.”

Because you’re Lacy. You know everything.

Eddie does think about going after you for a second, after your curt nod and dash through the door but he knows that it’s a zero-sum game. He has nothing good to say. It’s not even you that’s rendered him speechless– funny thing, you usually do the opposite. You always give him something to say. He just has nothing good to say. Nothing worthy of you.

So he sits there, on the examination table, waiting for the mythical Nurse Lydia to tend to his wounds.

First he’ll will himself soft, then he’ll will himself sane.

Famous last words.

#published by powder #e. munson by powder #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #blurbs #edlacy #hai brainrot #this actually helped me crack a little thing i've been stuck on in chap 9 so thank you for that!!!#Spotify #l. doevski by powder

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padsmoony04 · 1 year

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For the very obvious reason that there aren't many fanfics or stuff related to Jack, I've decided to share with you how I think he is like, so i hope you enjoy it :)

Disclaimer: sorry if there are any grammatical error, english it's not my first lenguaje. Remember most of this is made up.

Jack Champion it's like...

First things first, he's a theater kid. He has said it in a few interviews so I'm going to a assume that he probably (most likely) also like musical theater and that goes to the other theory wich is that he likes Hamilton, and it's also most likely that he has a couple (multiple) of the songs in he's playlist.

I wish I could also said that he's a swiftie, but I big part of me says that he's not a fan, but what I do think is that he does likes a few song's, like the mainstream one, for example shake it up, you belong with me, etc, etc, etc.

He's a fan of old school rock or old school music, like the beatles, queen, Fleetwood Mac, Michael Jackson and anothers. I meanly assume this for the fact that he's favorite song it's lest groove.

A true gentleman and no one can tell me other wise, that boy was raised by he's mom and he's mom alone, so I just know that he's sweet mother teach him how to be respectful to women and to treat them as equals.

He's a little dorky, but in a cute way. I mean have you seen the interviews..? Lmao.

Jack very confident: do you know what blowing a raspberry is? 😏

Bailey laughing her ass off: that's the definition!

Jack: What?...

Bailey: That's the definition..! *still laughing*

Jamie: But I still don't know what it is! 😀

Jack:..Oh...

The way that I have seen how he's friendship with Trinity is, I'm going to say that he's a really gentle boy and honestly really sweet.

Also he does a lot of dad jokes or better said bad jokes. I mean, I saw a video of him when he was younger saying "do you know why the chicken cross the road?... to prove it wasn't chicken!".

He's very carismatic but I also feel that he has a shy side.

He loves to cuddle (something that he also said).

I have a theory that he's the type of boy that, when he has a crush, he does a lot of silly things to make he's crush laugh.

He didn't like scary movies until he was sixteen, but that doesn't mean he can get scared easily with some of those movies now.

My next assumption is that when he likes something he turns it in he's whole personally (and no, I'm not projecting wdym?)

He's a Scorpio, so I just know for fact that he doesn't have patience, like at all, and also he has a short temperament.

Loves dogs and cats, but I feel he's more of a cat person.

He definitely had that fase where he used to film videos for his "YouTube channel" like almost all 2000's babies did.

Cookie lover, don't ask me why I think this he just gives me the vibe.

Obviously he's a marvel fan, and he's favorite superhero it's Spiderman (and something tells me that when he got the role for spider he's brain associated the word immediately with the superhero)

He's Favorite holiday is Halloween.

He also gives me the vibe that he's a ride or die type of friend.

Definitely the one how's always joking around in he's friend's group.

When he gest nervous he laughs.

A completely softie.

Nature lover.

He said that when he gets older he would like to settle down and have a family of his own, and live close to nature in a really calm place.

He prefer small towns rather than big cities.

He gives the impression that if he gest a girlfriend/boyfriend (to not assume directly what he's attracted to) he would follow them averywhere like a little puppy.

Probably would like to post things about he's partner, but not too much to not over share with the internet.

Also a little bit clingy as well.

He also looks like he would used the pet name "baby" a lot.

He cursed almost all the time, but like unconsciously, it just comes from him naturally. And when he's not supposed to curse and can find himself to stop doing it he would cover he's mouth with both of he's hands (something that it's really cute if you picture it).

Even though he's carismatic, he would get all shy and smiley when someone gives him a compliment.

Anyways! I think that it's it! Hope you guys like and enjoy my little theories about the lovely boy Jack Champion <3.

If you have more ideas about him don't be afraid to share it, I would love to know what theories you have about him.

And again, sorry if there are any grammatical errors :)

#jack champion #jack champion edit #jack champion imagine #jack champion fic #jack champion fanfic #jack champion x reader #scream vi #ethan scream 6 #ethan landry #avatar the way of water #spider avatar #jack champion headcannons

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gadriezmannsgirl · 11 months

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Own The Pitch -P.G

Dear anon, I had a little trouble whilst writing, I had the "Publish" thing on and not the "Save draft" thing. So when I went to look for a Pablo pic, I pressed the button to "save" my work and it published 😭☠️ I had to delete it!🥴😭 I hope you see this and tell me what you think of the fic😊 I couldn't help but associate this request with Gender Reveal's world.

ALSO KNOWN AS GENDER REVEAL (5)!

Summary: It's time for Helena to own the pitch

You smiled watching your fourth year old daughter, Helena, run around the whole pitch with her father behind her as she tried to "escape" his ticklish hands, her laughter echoing the Camp Nou stadium as the guys celebrated another El Clásico win 5-1.

"Helena María, watch out, hija" You said watching how she stumbled a little not really paying attention to it but keeping on playing with her dad.

"She's crazy for Pablo"

"And she's also crazy for her uncle Pepi" Pedro laughed nodding

"How's baby?" You smile remembering the get together of three weeks ago

"Great! It's really good, other than a few morning sickness, constant cravings and several mood swings, we're incredible" You smiled discretly putting your hand on top of your non-visible stomach

Baby two was 15 weeks old, your tummy wasn't visible, barely starting to appear and it could be appreciated when you were on bra and panties, something that only Pablo got to see being honest and not always in a sexy way.

"What do you think it'll be?"

"A little angry bird has told me that he, along with all of the team, wants it to be a boy" He laughs "And I would like to be a boy too" You smile taking your hand off your stomach "But I won't mind either if it's a girl"

"As long as it's healthy" You nod smiling

"That's the most important thing"

"Mami, I can kick just like papi!" Helena said coming over to you both, high fiving Pedri and kissing his cheek, before grabbing your hand "Wanna see it?"

You wink to Pedri as he smiled ruffling your hair lightly, and you picked Helena up making your way towards where Pablo was playing with the ball

"Next female football player I heard?" He stopped playing looking at you both with a smile on his face

"Amor, you shouldn't-"

"Let me enjoy it while I can" You cut him off talking about lifting Helena up, he raised his hands lightly

"Papá, vamos a enseñarle a mamá mi tiro" She got out of your hold taking the ball from his dad's feet

"Ready, ladybug?" She nods and kicks the ball a little to hard because it goes straight to Pablo's face but he dodged it easily "Maybe try to not hit it that much, Lena" You laughed at his face

She did several times that shot until Ter Stegen came with a smile

"Nice shot, Lena. Think you can do a goal with me in front?" She looks at her dad

"Can I?" Pablo nods smiling

"It's the same like you play with me at home, ladybug. You think you can score against Ter Stegen?" She looks at you

"It's what you and daddy do all the time, bonita" You say smiling at her and then she nodded

"I think I can" She mumbles playing with her fingers while looking at Ter Stegen

"You think?" She furrowed her eyebrows not sensing the playfulness in Marc's words

"I know I can"

"Then let's do this" He clapped his gloved hands and winked at you both.

"Mami, can you tie my hair, please?" She asked after pushing it back several times only for it to end up on her face again. Pablo and you raised your eyebrows at each other surprised.

"She's tying her hair" You said laughing

"She got that from you" He said as you blushed, whenever you got competitive you pulled your hair up in a bun or ponytail.

"THE MISSY IS TYING HER HAIR UP!" One of the guys yelled "THIS IS GETTING SERIOUS!" You looked over and saw Alejandro Balde, being the owner of the attraction of the lads. Pablo joined and started talking to Helena on how to do shoot the ball into the net besides teaching her how to several times.

He spoke it the little girl's ear acting as if they were playing a real match, with the tapping their mouths with their hands and everything.

The guys were forming a circle and they were still a few of the fans recording the moment.

"Whenever you're ready, ladybug" Pablo said stepping backwards to be next to you, hugging you by the waist as you wrapped yourself against him watching your daughter prepare to shot.

She looked behind you and you both did thumbs up, she smiled and ran to kick the ball.

You knew that little girl had power in her legs whenever she kicked while being inside of you.

The ball flew flying hard at first but then it lost force, meaning Ter Stegen could easily stop her ball. But he didn't.

Instead, he throw himself a bit later, acting as he didn't know where it could go and preparing himself for it, to the floor letting the ball pass underneath his body by centimeters. The ball hit the back of the net and instantly roars were heard in the whole stadium. You and Pablo ran towards your babygirl, congratulating her as the guys cheered and hugged you three

"Helena owns the pitch!" Ansu had yell being followed by Robert, Pedri, Alejandro, Eric, Ferran, Torre, Raphinha and soon everyone was chanting it

"Looks like we've got a potential football player in our lives" Pablo said as you smiled nodding watching Helena in Ter Stegen's shoulders

"I never doubted her kicking skills" Pablo laughed knowing what you meant

"Hopefully this one isn't that hard on you"

"Are you kidding? I've got the feeling if it's a boy it'll be worse than ever" Pablo laughs hard once more shaking his head you felt him kiss your cheek

"I can't wait for Baby to be here with us" Pablo murmured as you hummed leaning into him "I can't wait for this to happen over and over again"

Your eyes locked with Helena's, her happy smile instantly making you smile and heart swell in happiness. You loved your family.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

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transhawks · 1 year

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A Coward Called Endeavor

I'm wary of wading into the discourse because I'm seeing the unhinged bs my friends are getting, but from my viewpoint I think people miss something important about Dabi-Enji-Shouto and Enji's role in saving Touya -

Enji only tried to be an actual father for one of them and it wasn't Shouto.

No, I know that sounds crazy but we had a toddler whose immediate reaction to seeing his father was being upset and alert that the father would bully his mother. Shouto has never seen Enji the Father, he's only seen a monster named Endeavor.

That's important. Natsuo, heck, Fuyumi to some extent since she was really Rei's girl, none of them had this:

We only see this smirk head on in the manga, but I think this anime shot put it into perspective for me what I'd been mulling over for years, too uncomfortable with the simple truth of what's going on here:

The only Todoroki child who had Enji as a father was Touya.

For a brief few years, Touya was the apple of his eye. And, no, he wasn't replaced with Shouto, not in Enji's eyes. Because Enji uses the word livestock for Shouto. Because Enji was an aggressor from the beginning with Shouto. There was never a moment where this simple sort of moment, a little boy looking up into his father's prideful face as he copied his movements, happened between any of Enji's children besides Touya.

That's why Dabi's like this. It's harder for him to forget Endeavor when he isn't Shouto; he was never "an extension" of Endeavor's drive, but for a short period, he was treated as his actual son before he was thrown away.

So - what does this even mean? Why is it important that the only one with an actual "father" until Endeavor got some sense knocked into him via seeing the Pillar of Peace crumble is Touya?

Because it means Todoroki Enji is a fucking coward, that's what.

We know he's ran away from facing his failures time and time again, but never is more indicative of his cowardice when he got too scared to be a father and decided he wouldn't be. You see, that's why the other three didn't have him as a father - he doesn't know what being a father is. It's likely his own father died on the job, and so the associations of fatherhood in Enji's mind are just... being a hero. Being good at your job, so your kids can be proud of you. The actual parenting, the supporting your child, all that was too much for him.

This is Enji giving up, tail between his legs. He doesn't know how to be anything but "Endeavor", so he's not even going to try.

I really feel like people missed Rei calling him out here. He's running away from his duties and responsibilities to be a father. He fucked up with Touya and doesn't know how to fix it, so he runs off, and ignores all his other kids, and then just trains Shouto like a tool and an extension of himself. He lost his mind and saw his youngest as a simple extension of himself, like a hand or a leg. But when he looked at Touya, once, he saw a person.

A person he failed so many times. Failed to father, then failed to save.

I have a lot more to say about this on Dabi's point of view that also discusses the nuances Western readers aren't getting (like the ie system and his place in it), but when people say that they don't think Endeavor needs to do anything in this Dabi-saving discourse, I think they're forgetting that time and time again we've been shown that Todoroki Enji is a coward and if Horikoshi is serious about any resolution to this man and his "redeeming", it's about time he finally stops being one and faces his fucking son.

All of this has been leading up to him realizing it's nothing but himself that has caused this. That his own cowardice and hatred of himself has torn apart his family. That it's not about him as a hero.

These are the words of a man ready to finally start start being a dad, guys. Took him a quarter of a century.

A caveat: many of us have issues on the Doylist aspect of all this. I've said a few times that most of you are less upset about how Endeavor is being redeemed but the fact he's being redeemed at all, and I get it! The question is always about whether we need more narratives in media of abusers getting redemption, of victimized children reconciling with their parents. I agree fully that those of us who choose to not reconcile, who are unable due to the parents' beliefs or decisions anyway, are underrepresented in media. I know we want to see people like Dabi move on, stop hoping for a man who never knew how to show love for him to love him and apologize. Most of us, in real life, just give up and find love and healing outside of our parents. In many ways, it's healthier to go minimal or low contact with parents like Enji.

But I think that's not the story Horikoshi wants to write. He's writing what is essentially a trauma vent-work and wish fufillment all in one. In his fantastical world, families like the Todoroki one can reconcile, abusers can apologize and strive to make amends. It might be because he wishes this was the case more so than the reality that abuse victims know. He's made missteps with the Todoroki narrative yes, but I don't think what amounts to wish fulfillment on Horikoshi's part is bad-writing just because it's wish fufillment. It's just a very "happy-ending" solution to issues that in real life aren't going to usually see them and I think a lot of us are sick of them.

So, just keep that in mind when people say Dabi needs Endeavor involved. Enji created this problem, he has to fix it, not Shouto. You can't have a Touya at peace with his family if Endeavor gets to shirk his responsibility and keep being a coward.

#endeavor #endeavor tw #enji todoroki #todorokis #my meta #just something quick

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justminawrites · 16 days

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None of you understand Amber Bennett: She's just a girl, your honour. A review of the show writers' least favourite love story from Invincible season 1.

Now let me just preface this by saying I have 2 points to make. Just two, very long, super rambly points that does have mild spoilers for Invincible season 2. Read at your own risk.

Point 1: Amber isn't "understanding" enough is utter bullshit.

There’s no indication that civilians outside of the ones associated with the GDA have any idea how brutal fights are for superheroes. Amber quite literally has no idea what the hell Mark is going through, even after the superhero reveal. The only thing she has a smidgeon of understanding of is his dad beating his ass on live TV. And even that is a heavy maybe because we don’t know how much of the fight the cameras could cover and how much was broadcast to the general public.

Point 2: Amber’s dated Losers before.

This is stated explicitly in canon, she's “been down that road." Furthermore, she’s also the daughter of a single-parent household. She used to hang out a community centre as a kid because her mom did late hours. Daddy Issues anyone? She’s got a lot of her own problems that we never get to unpack or linger on because the writing decided she wasn’t going to end up with Mark.

What if she’d already dated an absolute bastard before Mark? Someone who seemed sweet and genuine at first, but then he started slacking. He’d be late to dates, stop taking an interest in anything she did, and just never show up for her in any way that mattered. Amber would make up excuses with her friends and family, oh he’s busy, he’s studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it.

Her friends and family don’t believe her completely but they humor her because she really seems to like him. And the ex-boyfriend isn’t a douchebag the whole time.. he brings gifts to make up for being late, he plies and pacifies her with honeyed words and promises to be better.

But each time the lies get more and more difficult to believe. Traffic and science projects, traffic and science projects, even when he shows up smelling like weed and alcohol. Her friends and family give her tight-lipped smiles when her ex-boyfriend gives her sloppy kisses and proclaims over and over “She’s too good for me, this one.”

She tries to be empathetic, she tries to be understanding when they’re alone, he can tell her what it is that’s wrong. But every-time she brings up giving them some space, he takes it as an indication of her not believing him and he guilts her with one sob story or another— she knows him, he was so gentle and respectful before they started dating, does she really think he’d do this to her if he didn’t have a good reason? Just a masterclass in gaslighting. So she gives him a second chance, third chance, fourth even.

But then he begins cheating on her. Whenever she confronts him about it, he plays victim and accuses her of being “crazy” even though the entire school knows otherwise. She catches him one fine day, and dumps him on the spot. For a short while, Amber’s very proud of this but as time passes she starts to feel extremely embarrassed that it took that long for her to catch on.

No one blames her, of course, but they all say something along the lines of “We never liked him anyway” which makes Amber doubt the perception of him she had. She internalises their support as a failing on her part to be vigilant, she didn’t want to end up making the same mistakes as her mom, after all.

Amber becomes guarded. She doesn’t entertain male attention (from Todd, for example) but then she finds out resident wimp Mark Grayson takes a beating for her and she feels bad.

So she gives him a chance. Mark was a nonissue, a nobody with no track record of being amazing or awful, just an in-between, normal guy who was maybe a little soft spoken and needed to stand up for himself more.

But every time they try to hang out, something comes in between them. The excuses are laughably obvious this time and Amber is caught between trying to understand if Mark Grayson is trying to let her down easy because he’s not interested or if he’s just another douchebag taking her for a ride.

He leaves her alone during their study date for an hour to do something shady and/or potentially related to Eve (I know she overheard him yelling at Cecil in his bedroom); Mark tells her he’s been to Mount Everest, but can’t tell her How he got there, and leaves on a non-specific trip for two weeks, right after their first date, and can’t even tell her Where he’s going or what he did when he was there?

So she does what she’d wished she’d done in her first relationship, she sets her boundaries. Firmly. She gives Mark multiple chances to come clean when she tells him she’s not riding that wave again. It’s been brought up a few times that Amber has lingering relationship-trauma.

During their study date Amber tells him she’s been in relationships with violent potentially abusive guys (“Met plenty of guys who were willing to throw a punch for me.”); or when he stands her up for the Dinner with her mom she tells him that he needs to make a choice because she’s “Been down this road before, and once was enough.”

But he still keeps at it and she starts getting tired of defending him to her friends and her mom. He’s just busy, he’s just studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it. And this time they shake their heads and lightly imply that she’s stuck in a pattern. Amber can feel them comparing Mark to her old boyfriend and it all becomes a bit too much.

Either he’s a no good drug dealing prick or he’s just wasting her time, whatever it is, Amber’s had enough of being left in the dark.

The soup kitchen is the final straw, but then she finds out that he gets run over by a bus. He actually gets hurt, this is the first time Amber’s seen him hurt, and she feels awful because if she hadn’t pushed him to show up for her again and again maybe he would’ve been more careful.

He doesn’t let her visit him in the hospital. A hit and run on the wrong side of town was the story this time— he can’t even tell her this, the specifics of his accident! Eve was his first point of contact after his parents?! At this point Amber is convinced that he’s involved in something violent or something to do with Eve, or both and she’s not sure she wants to keep going with this.

Amber is confused and hurt but she also feels responsible for Mark’s injuries. Maybe she Was too paranoid, maybe she Was projecting all her relationship-trauma on him and he would tell her what happened at his own pace. So she backtracks, gives him another chance.

College is really the best of all worlds, Mark makes her promises that this time will be different, and Amber tentatively agrees to college together. (She’s still stressed out about his injuries and on edge the whole time though and asks if he has a concussion).

This is really important because Amber ends up at Upstate U later. She decided to go to college with him, basically because of Him. This wasn’t any specific plan she had before, this was her making room in her life for this boy and potentially everything their lives could be together.

Then the Reanimen Incident happens. And she loses her shit. Mark Grayson is not the flakey but well-intentioned boyfriend she thought he was.. Mark Grayson is not even a good person! He LEFT her and William at the drop of a hat to save his own slimy skin, that bastard! Her intuition was right, she never should’ve given him a chance.

Amber was no longer going to give Mark Grayson the time of day, much less share a bed with the self-serving jerk; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of spinning another tall tale. Or seeing her cry. She closes the door to the shower rooms behind her, and overhears Rick leaving to get them all some beer. Dorm room walls are thin, after all.

Then she hears something else.

“You’re Invincible!” William’s voice carries over excitedly, “And you never told me?”

Here goes the "problematic" bit.

I think Amber was lying when she told Mark she knew he was Invincible weeks ago. Amber didn’t even know who Invincible was until a few minutes after the Reanimen attack. She isn’t acting for anyone around her, she’s genuinely confused when the superhero jets off because she’s never seen him in her life.

I think she overheard William freaking out about it in the dorm room and she pieced together Mark’s absences with his vague excuses and why couldn’t visit him at the hospital. She takes a shower to cool off but sitting and stewing on all of it just makes her angrier and she decides to go to the frat party just to get away from Mark for a while.

Now why wouldn’t she just tell him she overheard them talking?

Amber is an assertive independent character with a lot of pride. And that’s not a bad thing. Amber has a lot to be proud of. She has a strong sense of justice, she doesn’t take crap from anyone and she has too much self-worth to put up with liars.

You can clearly see this in the way she approaches Mark in the beginning. She asks William if he’s dating Eve, and then instead of calling him herself, she gets Todd to give Mark her number so he can call her if he’s interested, despite the fact that she already is. She has too much pride to chase him. It’s one of her fixed flaws, and it’s consistent to her character.

So finding out that Mark is actually Invincible almost by accident, is kind of embarrassing for Amber. Not only because she yelled at him for disappearing but for all the times he misled her and lied to her only to actually have a good reason for doing it. There’s a lot of mixed emotions there, shame, guilt, concern. Guilt.

Admitting that she overheard he was Invincible would be like admitting she was a stupid, nagging girlfriend who had no right to be a part of his life (the way the fandom perceives her) so she doesn’t. She tries to distract herself with the party, flirts with someone she just met not ten minutes ago, and feels awful because he immediately drops the girlfriend bomb.

Now she’s forced to confront the fact that she has a boyfriend, and her flakey, well-intentioned superhero boyfriend is sitting and moping in the dorm room because she doesn’t have the guts to tell him she knows. Because telling him she knows would remove the choice he’d need to make when deciding whether or not he was serious about their relationship.

Amber was serious, Amber was going to change her life and potentially open her future to college with him, but was Mark really sure about Them if he couldn’t even tell her of his own accord?

Telling him would be like giving him another out. And Amber was done giving him an out.

When he finally confesses he doesn’t see why she’s mad at him, because he doesn’t see her at all. He can’t even begin to imagine what this roller coaster of a weekend has been for her because she’s been serious about him all this time and it took them breaking up completely for Mark to choose her back in the first place and go all in.

Now it’s true that Mark is entitled to his secrets but Amber is also entitled to being upset that he can’t tell her 1 solid thing about his life. Not one thing does he trust her enough to explain, and at that point why should they even be dating each other? Why should she change the course of her future for a guy who can’t tell her where he was last weekend?

Then Omni-man beats him up on live TV, and now that she knows that he’s Invincible, she finally gets a glimpse into the bloody, gruesome world that is Mark’s. His Dad isn’t a superhero, his Dad is a Monster, and Mark is discovering this the same time as the rest of the world.

So she freaks out because she cares, and she’s so relieved to see him not beat to a bloody pulp like on TV that she kisses him. She likely had no intention of getting back together with him before that, but world-ending fiascos often come with heightened emotions, and they’re just kids at the end of the day.

She’s not a manipulative, narcissistic villain, she’s just a proud girl, in love with a boy who can’t decided whether or not he loves her back.

Now do I think Mark is a terrible jerk who doesn’t deserve Amber? No. I watched Invincible the same way it was intended, almost entirely through Mark’s eyes, and it’s hard to assign blame in this case because we see how horrifying and traumatic being a superhero actually is. But that’s the point, we only see one half of the story.

We see Amber through Mark’s eyes and in his opinion she could afford to be more compassionate to his excuses the moment she finds out he’s a hero, the way Eve can, but that’s not true at all because Amber has no idea what being a hero is like. Eve does, and that’s the difference that Mark is wilfully blind to.

But Mark also has no idea what Amber’s life is like and it’s easy to get lost in the sea of all the lives lost and villains fought, that he genuinely hasn’t spent any time with his girlfriend as a person beyond his Girlfriend. Amber isn’t a person to him, like William stopped being eventually; they became sort of tethers to Mark’s humanity, a way to distinguish himself from his Dad. A way to ground him.

Seriously? When was the last time Mark even talked to William, his once Best Friend? They’re not his Mom, they’re concepts to him. They’re civilians, potential victims he could end up losing if he doesn’t police himself and his powers. Mark slowly becomes disillusioned to his own life as a human, the more the leans into the Viltrumite half of his parentage.

It’s a little tragic but it’s the story we’re seeing. In season 2, when Mark and Amber break up and he gives up his dream for college, these two things are almost explicitly correlated. Mark is coming to terms with the fact that he’s going to outlive everyone he knows, even his new baby brother and that is just the most chaotic example of a slow-burn trauma if I’ve ever seen one. He’s giving up being human, but maybe not giving up his humanity.

______________________________________________________________

TLDR: None of you understand Amber Bennett because the writers decided that Mark would outlive her before he ever had the chance to see things from her perspective and I am SALTY about it

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epithet-beloved · 2 months

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Could we get some parental Percy and Ramsey? If not that’s fine

PARENTAL PERCY + RAMSEY HEADCANONS

synopsis… Percy and Ramsey as your parents

ft. Percival “Percy” King, Ramsey Murdoch, Howie Honeyglow (mentioned), Meryl Lockhart (mentioned), Sergeant Eros (mentioned)

tags… parental imagine, Percy and Ramsey’s relationship is unspecified, goofy family shenanigans, some anime campaign references but no spoilers, relationship study

word count… 702

a/n… I FINALLY GOT MY WRITING SPOONS BACK BAYBEYYYYYY. Apologies for the long hiatus, but I hope you all enjoy these imagines! ✧ 🦄

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Even if Ramsey is your actual father, he still gets treated at least a little bit like a weird uncle that the rest of the family doesn’t want you associating with.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite some general banter, Percy trusts Ramsey with your care quite a lot after he helped her in Redwood Run, and is always fair and never presumptuous. She has quite a few ground rules, some of them a bit odd, but never unfair.

“Uhhh….Percy?” Ramsey’s confusion was met by the policewoman’s polite smile.

“Yes? Is there something you’d like to ask me about the rules?”

A nod. “Just one thing.” Despite the fact that she couldn’t see what he was pointing to, the Australian pointed to one of the lines with his index finger. “I think ‘no crayons of debauchery’ is a bit unnecessary.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Your time between the two is divvied up almost perfectly evenly, as expected of Percy’s scheduling. Sometimes, Ramsey can even go somewhere with you as long as an officer (typically Percy) accompanies you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 On occasion, you’ll also get ‘babysat’ by Meryl or Sergeant Eros when both your parents are unavailable. Meryl can be a bit…jumpy, but typically well meaning. And Eros will let you ride shotgun if he takes you to work with him (given that the work is appropriate and something you can tag along for).

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Ramsey makes drawings of your OCs and Percy hangs them on her fridge. It’s kind of comical to see your fursona or the like hung up in her otherwise rather plain kitchen, but it’s also a sweet reminder of how she’s invested in your interests.

“I must admit, I am curious.” You perked your head up at the sound of your mother’s voice, watching as she admired one of the papers hung up with a magnet on her fridge. When she was done examining the drawing like it was some sort of specimen, she’d stand up to her full height and look your way. “Why am I drawn as a beaver in this picture?”

“Oh,” you explained between bites of food, “I always thought if you were an animal, that’s what you’d be, because you make all kinds of buildings when you’re working.”

This answer seemed to leave her pleased, almost glowing in response to your perception of her. With a hand over her heart, she spoke in a calm voice. “Ah, the beaver. Truly an industrious creature. Nature’s architect, presiding over the flowing waters, arbiting their path….”

….Well, that probably meant she was happy about the fursona you came up for her.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I wouldn’t call Percy overprotective per se, but she is very cautious. Like if you want to ride a bike, she’ll make sure you have a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, shoulder pads….overall, just makes sure to take all possible safety measures in a situation. She’ll never stop you from doing something you want to do within reason, she’ll just make sure she’s there to keep an eye on you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’ve also likely met Howie once or twice because he’s a good friend (slash business rival) of Percy’s. He gave you a honeyed snack once. It tasted good, but the texture is…..questionable.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite Percy being classic lawful good, Ramsey can actually be the more reasonable one, aka having more common sense in a situation. Sometimes, parent-child bonding is just being surrounded by wackiness while both expressing complete and utter exasperation.

“Hey dad, do you know what is happening right now at all?” You loved your mother to death, but her idea of a ‘fun activity’ could often be rather strange. Like now, where she was currently trying to enforce road safety laws to the Mario Kart CPUs. While losing.

All the man could do was shake his head and crack a grin. “Eh, just roll with it, kiddo. You get used to it after a while.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They both give headpats, but Percy’s are a sort of stiff “pat pat” while Ramsey’s is more of a noogie that messes up your hair. You don’t have the heart to say either one is better than the other, though.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They’re both wonderful, really. Both a little weird, but that’s part of what makes your family so great.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 request !#🦄's writings #epithet erased imagines #epithet erased #epithet erased x reader #ramsey murdoch imagines #Ramsey Murdoch #percival king #Percival king imagines #familial imagines

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femsolid · 7 months

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There was a talk show on french TV the other day about trans parents and their children. One of the guests was a butch lesbian truck driver and her daughter. The show's host asked the daughter if there were any telltale sign that her mother was a man and the daughter said that her mom ("dad" she called her) had interests and hobbies that were traditionnaly associated with men. I still can't believe I have to hear this shit in 2023. The mother said that she just couldn't bear the thought of being a "masculine woman". She just could NOT be a masculine woman. No way. Being a butch lesbian was unacceptable to her. Therefore she had to be a man. She said she had nothing against masculine women, that she even fell in love with one, it just couldn't be her. But sitting there on the couch... she was exactly that. She was not feminine, she was not a man either, she was a butch lesbian. She just had to pretend (and make everyone pretend with her) that she was a straight man for her to be okay with who she was. And that was pretty sad. Because in the end it means she still isn't okay with who she is. An interesting thing she said was that she only started thinking of transitioning after she heard some french idiots use the word "queer" and she looked it up on the internet and discovered all the propaganda associated and then here she was, boom, a man. An online epiphany. I'm happy she found a way to let go of the pressure of femininity and hope she's happier this way, but the thought process behind it is so incredibly regressive, sexist and homophobic it's hard to stomach.

There was also a transbro invited with his daughter. She said that she and her little brother found out about their dad by discovering his secret instagram account on which he was pretending to be a woman. She also explained that since he had started his transition he was making his children's life a living hell at home. She justified and excused it by claiming he was going through female puberty. The father nodded with a big smile on his face. Haha cute and amusing. Apparently, his doctor told him that the hormones he's taking are turning him into a teenage girl. And teenage girls are annoying, emotional and irrational of course, we all know that, so voilà. The daughter of another transbro said the same thing, that her dad was going through his teenage girl phase and was therefore crying and screaming for no reason. The show's psychologist suprisingly intervened to say it had nothing to do with being female and everything to do with the artifical hormones intake causing mood swings. I would argue that narcissism and misogyny are at play as well.

Another interesting part was when they discussed the fact that trans identified parents have often fantasized about being a member of the opposite sex for a long time but their family on the other hand typically had no idea and is shocked when they discover it. The trans identifying person rushes everything because in their perception they've been waiting for a long time. So they're like: now you know! So pretend with me and be okay with it! But to the family it's completely sudden, so to be asked to forget about the person they know, stop using their name, be an unwilling witness to their sexual changes and be just fine with it is... an impossible task.

And on the topic of sexual changes there were discussions, initiated by the psychologist, about how disturbing it is for the children to become involved in their parents' sex lives. Because through talks of phalloplasties, vaginoplasties, estrogen to induce breast growth, etc, the parents are indeed making the children a part of their sex lives and all the (now adult) daughters agreed that it was uncomfortable to say the least. Like when your dad is recovering from turning his penis into a hole or getting fake breasts you're forced to become aware and part of it. It was interesting that only daughters were present as well. Of course all of them, no matter how uncomfortable, said we should support transitioning and that was the conclusion of the show. I didn't listen to everything because I was working at the same time but. Yeah. All in all, the usual.

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taeswolfie · 6 months

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𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆

☽︎𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏☾︎

Ch.2

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 9.3k

a/n: I started writing this in November of 2020 on Wattpad and finished a few years later, and although it's kind of old now it's still one of my favorite things I have written so far. I wanted to give it a bit of new life here on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had writing it. There were about 90 chapters so wish me luck on this massive, and probably slow, migration 😅

A teenage girl sits cross legged in the middle of her bed dressed in pajamas. A book is held up in front of her. The cover of black leather has no title but the Triple Moon is embossed vertically in the middle, a moonstone sewn into the middle moon. Her head moves slightly as she reads and she mutters the words under her breath. She suddenly looks towards her window, a flash of purple is reflected when her eyes meet themselves in the glass before she blinks and they're back to their original color. She tilts her head a bit as if listening for something and squints her eyes before she gets up. The book closes and plops down onto the covers in front of her as she gets up, her hands unfolding from their place in her lap.

She pauses a few steps from her window with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. She takes the last few steps and quickly pulls open the window, sticking her head out and startling the brunette boy currently scaling the trellis on the side of the house. "What are you doing, Stiles?" She asked once he regained his hold on the structure.

"God! Y/n! You nearly scared me to death! How did you know I was here?" He asked, slightly out of breath from the combination of climbing the side of her house and getting a scare.

She shrugged a shoulder. "I heard you."

"How?! I was super careful not to make a sound. Also why weren't you answering your phone?"

"Not careful enough, apparently. And I was busy reading. I didn't want to be disturbed. Now, again, what are you doing, Stiles?"

"I saw my dad leave like 40 minutes ago. Dispatch called, everyone from the Beacon Department and even State Police were called in because two joggers found a body in the woods."

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?"

"I mean no. School starts tomorrow and I don't want to spend my last night of summer traipsing through the woods looking for a body."

"Half body." He corrected.

"Let me rephrase. I don't want to spend my last night of summer traipsing through the woods looking for a half body. Go drag Scott out of bed and make him go with you."

"Uh, he already did." Scott's voice drifted up to the two and Y/n looked past Stiles to see Scott giving her a sheepish grin.

She gave him an unimpressed look before leveling it on Stiles. "There's no way I'm gonna get you to leave me alone tonight, is there?"

"Nope." He grinned at her when she rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Fine." She pulled her head back in her room and stalked over to her closet.

"What are you doing?" She glanced behind her to see Stiles now haphazardly hanging onto her window sill.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm putting on some clothes. I don't want to go out, but I don't want to go without proper clothing more. Now, you can either watch me change or get off my window, but choose wisely."

He flushed a bit as he started to stammer. "Uh-um- I'm uh- I'm gonna go. Down there. With Scott."

"Good choice." She squinted her eyes at him with a sarcastic smile. Once he was out of sight and on the ground with a quiet 'thump' she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Idiot." She mumbled under her breath but still couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her lips. She hurried and got dressed in a sweater and some pants before climbing onto her window sill and down the trellis, leaving her window ajar for when she came back. When she was on solid ground she made her way to the blue Jeep that she has come to associate as purely Stiles.

Stiles comes to a stop in front of a sign labeled Beacon Hills Preserve No Entry After Dark. All three teens hop out of the Jeep, Stiles holds a flashlight. "We're seriously doing this?" Scott asked with worry in his tone.

"You're the one who's always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." Stiles shot back with a pat on Scott's shoulder when he passed. Y/n comes up next to Scott with a sigh.

"He's kinda got you there, Scotty." She also pats his shoulder before reluctantly following behind the overly excited boy.

"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow." Scott also reluctantly followed.

"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort." Stiles retorted from five steps ahead of them.

"Hey, be nice Stilinski. Scott's trying to play this year."

"I will play this year." Scott corrected. "In fact, I'm making first line."

"Hey, that's the spirit." Y/n smiled at Scott with a nudge that he returned with a smile of his own.

"Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one." Stiles said.

"Like chasing after Lydia Martin." Y/n mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Stiles couldn't hear her over the crunching of leaves and Scott's scoff.

"I said 'how much can these woods darken?'' Stiles threw a questioning glance over his shoulder at Y/n's innocent expression. He then looked at Scott, but the shaggy haired boy just shrugged. Stiles shook his head and continued looking forward as Y/n smirked to herself.

"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" Scott asked.

Stiles slowed in his walking for a moment. "Huh! I didn't even think about that." He chuckled.

"I've got a question too." Y/n said with a finger raised slightly in the air. "What if whoever killed this person is still out here?"

"Also something I didn't think about."

"Of course you didn't." Y/n shook her head.

"It's... comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail." Scott joked as they climbed up a steep incline making him start to breathe a bit harder.

"I know."

"Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?" Scott leaned against a tree and pulled out his inhaler. Y/n stopped with him as Stiles kept going.

"You good, Scott?" She asked, concerned.

He simply nodded as he shook the inhaler and waved her on. She took a few steps still looking at him before facing forward as he continued to walk with her. Stiles stumbles to the ground to lay on his stomach, Y/n following more gracefully with Scott falling beside her like Stiles had. Scott wheezes as they watch several flashlight beams scan the area, the figures holding them looking for any sign of the other half of the body.

"Okay, come on!" Stiles suddenly jumps up and runs in the direction of the other people.

"Stiles!" Scott calls but he doesn't answer.

Y/n groans. "I'll go after him." Y/n also jumps up and starts running after him.

Scott takes a puff of his inhaler before he also follows. "Wait up!" The three run through the woods, Y/n whisper yelling at Stiles at how much of an idiot he's being. "Stiles!" Scott also tries to whisper yell at the boy.

"Stiles, stop!" Y/n's forceful tone finally gets him to slow to a walk, looking behind him for his friends. Y/n catches up just as a dog barks at him, scaring him into falling back, which happened to be right into Y/n, sending both teens to the ground.

"Hold it right there!" An officer yells, the dog still barking as lights are shined on the two.

"Hang on, hang on!" Another voice calls over the ruckus. "This little delinquent belongs to me."

"Get off me, you oaf! You're crushing my ribs." Y/n groans with effort as she pushes Stiles off while he tries desperately to get up.

"Dad, how are you doing?" Stiles greets his father once he manages to stop crushing his friend.

"Y/n." Noah Stilinski greets.

"Hello Sheriff." She gives an innocent smile as she stands.

"Does he know you're out here?" Y/n didn't need him to name anyone to know who he was talking about.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" He just looked at her and she looked away. "Yeah, thought not."

"So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?" He then asks Stiles.

"No, heh." Stiles tries to deny, but then, "Well, not the boring ones." Y/n shakes her head.

"Now, where's your usual partner in crime?"

"Who, Scott?"

"No, the Gingerbread Man. Yes, he means Scott!" Y/n sasses before she gives the Sheriff a polite smile. "Scott's not with us, right now. He said he wanted to get a good night's rest for tomorrow's practice and he didn't want to come." What she said wasn't a lie, Scott wasn't with them because he trailed behind and he had said those words earlier.

Stiles nodded in agreement with what she had said. "It's just us. In the woods. Alone."

She gave him a short jab in the side with her elbow and a look that said shut up. Noah raises his flashlight and scans the surrounding trees. "Scott, you out there? Scott?" He calls but gets no answer. He sighs and lowers the light. "Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car. And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy." He grabs the scruff of Stiles' clothes and pulls him along, glancing back at Y/n. "And you, missy, I'm gonna give you a ride back home."

"Yes, sir. That sounds great actually." She takes one more look out at the trees with a small frown before following the Stilinski's.

After Noah made sure Stiles got in his car and drove away, he led Y/n to his car where she got in the front seat. Thunder crashes in the distance as she stares out of the front window, a worried look on her face. Rain gently patters against the road. She fidgets in her seat, an uneasy feeling in her gut. Her head whips towards the passenger window as she faintly hears a distant howl, the feeling getting just a bit worse.

When Noah pulls in front of Y/n's home she winces at the sight of Alan Deaton on the porch and sighs. "Thanks for the ride, Sheriff." Y/n glumly says as she unbuckles.

"No problem." He waves goodbye when she gets out and she watches him leave, prolonging the time before she has to face her guardian.

"Y/n." He says in his normal cool tone.

She slowly turns to look at him. "Yes, Alan?"

"Why did I get a call saying that you were wandering around in the woods in the middle of the night?"

"Because I was." She responded plainly.

"Why?"

"Stiles, being Stiles, listened in on the Sheriff's phone call and he heard about a dead body being found, but it was only half, and there was a search party for the other half and Stiles wanted to be the one to find it. He dragged Scott out too, and what kind of a best friend would I be if I had let them go by themselves? But now what kind of best friend am I that I left one of them in the woods after we were caught." She frowned.

"Who?"

"Scott. The Sheriff didn't see him because he hid behind a tree."

"And you know that how?"

"I heard him."

"I see." He nods in understanding. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Scott's a strong boy, he'll be okay. Come on, let's get inside. School starts tomorrow."

"Yeah." She mumbled. He held his arms out and she obliged by hugging him. He pulls away but still keeps an arm over her shoulder. Just before she steps inside she looks over her shoulder, back to the woods.

"What's wrong?"

She shakes her head a bit, a frown still tugging at her lips. "I don't know. Just a feeling." She sighs as she turns away and follows him into the house.

…

Y/n rides into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School on her bike. She balances on one foot as she smoothly glides up to the bike rack, using her other foot as a brake once she's close enough. She notices Scott's bike and Jackson's Porsche as she's fixing up her bike lock. "Oh, yay, I'm parked next to him." She mutters sarcastically. She turns to face the school, fixing her bag on her shoulder, and takes a deep breath. "First day back to school. What a joy." With one more breath she makes her way to the front doors. She scans the crowd and spots Scott and Stiles, the former holding up his shirt to expose his side. Y/n squints and catches a red splotch on the gauze he has taped there before he puts it down and the two continue walking. She picks up her pace and jogs to the two, catching up when they stop again and she can clearly hear what they're saying.

"All right, well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not gonna believe me about when I tell you I found the body." Scott's tone lowered with the last few words he spoke.

"What's this about a wolf?" Y/n asked once she stood next to the two, her curiosity piqued.

"Did you not just hear him about the body? Are you kidding me?" Stiles directed the last at Scott.

"No, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month."

"Oh, God, that is freakin' awesome."

"Yeah, awesome. You saw a wolf?" Y/n looked at Scott in question.

"No, but I heard one howling."

Y/n's brow furrowed a bit in worry but her thoughts are cut off by Stiles groaning out a sigh. "I already said that that was impossible. There are no wolves in California."

"You'd be surprised." She pointed out.

"Look, enough about the wolves. How are you focusing on that more than Scott found the body? I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since..." He trailed off as he spotted a particular strawberry blonde head. "Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia... You look..." Lydia passes without a glance at Stiles but a small wave in greeting towards Y/n who returns the gesture. "Like you're gonna ignore me." Stiles sighs and looks at Scott. "You're the cause of this, you know?"

"Uh-huh." Scott 'agrees' with a smile.

"Draggin' me down to your nerd depths."

"Uh-huh." The three continue walking as the bell rings.

"I'm a nerd by association. I've been Scarlet Nerded by you. At least you haven't tarnished Y/n with your nerdy influence. How are you friends with Lydia, by the way? How did you get in there?" He rounds on Y/n.

She scoffs. "There's no 'in' to get to. We just so happen to be very best friends."

"I thought we were your best friends?" Scott points between himself and Stiles.

"You are, Scotty, don't worry." She pats his shoulder. "You're my guy best friends and she's my girl best friend."

"You think you could put in a good word for me so I can be her guy best friend?" Stiles asks with a hopeful tone.

"No." She shoots down immediately, giving a playful coo when he pouts and she lightly pinches his cheek. He bats her hand away with a laugh and the trio continue down the halls.

...

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night." Mr. Curtis informs as he writes on the white board. Scott shares a knowing smile with Y/n and Stiles, the h/c in the seat next to him with Stiles right behind her. "And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody," Mr. Curtiss turns to face the class, Scott throws a questioning look at Stiles who shrugs, "which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester."

Y/n picks up the paper to skim it over, barely glancing out the window when she heard the cell ringing outside. She sees a pretty brunette girl on the bench outside that she doesn't recognize yet doesn't really give it another thought. She looks back to her paper, but her eyes are drawn to movement beside her. She glances over and sees Scott looking around before rubbing his ear in confusion. She narrows her eyes at his actions and keeps watching him as his focus is drawn out the window and his eyes slowly sweep across the room until they stop at the door. A moment later the Vice Principal walks in with the brunette girl behind him.

"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome." The VP leaves and the girl, Allison, moves to sit in the empty seat behind Scott. Y/n watches as Scott grabs one of his pens and turns to give it to Allison.

A confused look flashes across her face before it lights up with a smile. "Thanks."

"We'll begin with Kafka's Metamorphosis, on page 133." The teacher started speaking again as they looked at each other for a minute before Scott turned around. Y/n raised a brow at the exchange and caught Allison's confused look return. With one more glance at Scott Y/n turns back to her own papers, noting to herself to watch Scott a bit more closely.

...

The bell rings and students flood the halls. Scott fiddles with his locker's lock and glances down the hall spotting Allison. She looks over at him and smiles. He just blinks at her in a slight daze as Y/n comes up behind him. "Hey, Scott."

He turns to her. "Oh, hey, Y/n."

"I was meaning to ask, I saw you had a bandage on your side as I was catching up to you guys? What happened? Are you okay?" She asked in concern and he gave her an easy going smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Stiles doesn't believe me but I think a wolf bit me. It was dark and I couldn't see well but I heard a wolf howl."

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Can I see? The bite I mean?"

"Yeah, sure." He glanced around before he lifted his shirt enough for her to see. She carefully pulled the top part of the bandage away and he winced. Quickly, but carefully, she put the bandage back and he let his shirt fall.

"Yeah, that's uh... That's some bite." Stiles came around to Scott's other side at that point and she tuned out their conversation as her mind swam with the new information and worry. She only snapped out of her head when Lydia called her name from down the hall. She was standing next to Allison and waving Y/n over. "I'll see you guys later." She said to the boys before she made her way over to Lydia and the new girl.

"Allison, this is my best friend, Y/n. Y/n, this is Allison." Lydia introduced.

"Nice to meet you." Y/n held her hand out which Allison took.

"You, too." Allison gives her a kind smile.

Jackson sidles up beside Lydia with an arm thrown around her. "Hey." She greets and gives him a kiss. Jackson spots Y/n and rolls his eyes.

"Y/n." He says in obligatory greeting.

"Jackson." She says boredly. The two proceed to ignore each other as they talk to Allison.

Across the hall Scott and Stiles watch the exchange as another girl stops beside them at the sight of the four. "Can someone tell me how new girl is here all of five minutes, and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?" The girl questions the two boys.

"Because she's hot." Stiles answers.

"Does that mean you think Y/n's hot?" Scott smirks at him.

"What?" Stiles looks at him almost offended. "I'm just saying beautiful people herd together."

"You just called Y/n beautiful." Scott's smile got wider as Stiles glared at him.

"Your point is?"

Scott shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing."

"I'm just stating facts. Y/n is obviously pretty hence why she's with Lydia and the new girl."

"I'm not saying anything." Stiles rolled his eyes as Scott just smiled at him and turned to the girl they were talking to. Scott's smile slowly fell as he looked back over at the four. His ears were able to pick up the conversation taking place across the hall.

"So, this weekend, there's a party." Lydia hints to Allison.

"A party?" The brunette questions.

"Yeah, Friday night." Jackson informs. "You should come."

"Uh, I can't. It's Family Night this Friday. Thanks for asking."

"You sure? I mean, everyone's going after the scrimmage. Even Hermit over there is going." Jackson gestured towards Y/n and she gave him a sarcastic laugh with squinted eyes.

"You mean like football?"

"Football's a joke in Beacon."

"The sport here is lacrosse." Y/n informed. "It's like... A big thing."

"We've won the State Championship for the past three years."

"Because of a certain Team Captain." Lydia smiled up at Jackson and fixed a piece of his hair.

"Well, we have practice in a few minutes. That is, if you don't have anywhere else-"

"Well, I was going to-"

"Perfect." Lydia cut Allison off. "You're coming." Lydia grabbed Allison's wrist with one hand and Y/n's with the other and started to pull them both along.

"Is she always like this?" Allison whispered to Y/n.

"You get used to it." Y/n shrugged with an unbothered expression.

...

Lydia leads the trio as they make their way to the stands and sit. Y/n spots Scott and Stiles already geared up and on the field. She gives them a wave when they look over although Y/n notices Scott wasn't looking at her but at the brunette next to her making her smirk to herself. Coach Finstock talks to Scott and Y/n sees him hand Scott the gear for goalie. Oof. That's gonna be rough. She thought as Scott takes position in front of the goal.

"Who is that?" Allison asks.

"On goal?" Y/n clarifies and when Allison nods she smiles. "That's Scott. He's one of my best friends." Y/n looked back at Scott to see him already looking in their direction with a tilted head and her smile dissolved into a slight frown. Coach blows the whistle and Scott grips at his head as if someone was shouting at him, Y/n's frown goes a little deeper. Another player throws the ball and it goes right into Scott's mask making him fall flat on his back. Stiles grimaces and Scott gets back up. He braces himself as another player throws the ball again, but this time he caught it.

He looks at it surprised and smiles. The lined up players all look around each other to see what McCall had done. Stiles sits up and yells, "Yeah!" Scott catches ball after ball and Stiles whoops. Y/n watches with raised brows and a disbelieving scoff.

"He seems like he's pretty good." Allison comments.

"Yeah, very good." Lydia agrees.

"Uh oh." Y/n mutters when she sees Jackson skip the line to take his shot at Scott. The air is tense as everyone watches Jackson run up and hurl the ball at Scott. But to everyone's surprise he swiftly catches it. Stiles jumps up, hooting in joy. Y/n stands with Lydia as the strawberry blonde cheers and Y/n cups her hands over her mouth. "GO SCOTT!"

"THAT'S MY FRIEND!" Stiles yells making Y/n laugh. Lydia screams some more cheers and Jackson glares over at her. When he catches her eye she just gives him a what? look and sits back down.

...

"I don't know what it was." Scott leads the way through the woods and across a small stream as his two friends follow him. "It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And it's not the only weird thing. I can... hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things."

"Smell things? Like what?" Stiles questions from behind Scott.

"Like Mint Mojito gum in your pocket. And Y/n smells like flowers."

"I do?" The girl muttered as she pinched her shirt and sniffed it, only smelling her laundry soap and a bit of animal from her time at the Animal Clinic. She then held her wrist up to her nose, focusing on her sense of smell, and there it was. A faint scent of flowers that clung to her skin like a mist. Something she had almost forgotten about because there wasn't anyone who would notice it like her.

The three pause as Stiles rummages through his jacket pockets. "I don't even have any Mint Mojito-" He cuts himself off as he pulls a slightly opened piece of gum from his pocket. Y/n raises a brow as Stiles looks up at Scott who gives him a see? gesture. They continue walking and Stiles shoves the gum back in his pocket. "So all this started with a bite."

"What if it's like an infection, like my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this- it's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?" They all stop again, Y/n looking between the two, nervousness flashing through her system as she realizes what Stiles is getting at, albeit jokingly, but this was anything but a joke to her.

"Yeah." Stiles puts his hands on his hips in seriousness. "Yeah, I think it's called Lycanthropy."

"What's that? Is it bad?" Scott worries.

Y/n folded her arms. "He's talking about Werewolfism."

"Yeah! You know, the full moon and the awrooo." Stiles howls. Scott lightly pushes him away and continues walking as Stiles laughs. "Hey, man..." He follows, an unusually quiet Y/n following. "Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling."

"Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me." Scott frets.

"I know! You're a werewolf! Ow!" He rubs his arm from Y/n's sudden attempt to make him shut up. He looks at her in question and she glares at him.

"Don't joke around like that, Stiles." She catches up with Scott. "Ignore him. I'm sure that it's nothing too bad, okay?"

Scott just sighs and Stiles speaks up. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, It's 'cause Friday's a full moon." While Scott ignores Stiles, Y/n bites her lip in worry. If it was just a random ordinary wolf, Scott should be fine. But if it wasn't... If it really was what she thinks it was, then things were going to get very complicated very soon.

Scott looks around on the ground but doesn't see anything. "No, I- I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler." Scott crouches to look through the leaves.

"Maybe the killer moved the body?" Y/n suggests.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like 80 bucks." Y/n chuckles a bit but when she feels another presence her head shoots up and she spots a broody looking man with dark hair and a black leather jacket. Stiles notices the man a second later and pats Scott to get his attention. Scott looks back and stands up to face the man.

The man starts walking closer to them at a brisk pace making Y/n take a few steps of her own to where she now stood in front of the boys. Used to her protectiveness neither of them give the action a second thought. "What are you doing here? Huh?" The man asks quickly. "This is private property."

"Sorry, we didn't know." Y/n speaks up for them. "We were just looking for something. You wouldn't have happened to see an inhaler around, would you?" Without another word the man pulls something from his pocket and tosses it towards Scott, but Y/n catches it from the air without looking away from him. She tossed the object back to Scott which he sees as his inhaler. After another moment of Y/n and the stranger staring each other down he turned and walked away. Once she was sure he wasn't coming back she turned to see Stiles gaping towards where he left and Scott frowning.

"All right, well, I've gotta get to work." Scott went to leave only to be stopped by Stiles.

"Guys, that was Derek Hale."

"Hale?" Y/n questioned, the name sounding vaguely familiar to her.

"You remember, right?" He asked Scott. "He's only a few years older than us. This was, like, a few years before you moved here, Y/n. His family burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago."

"That's awful." Y/n frowned.

"I wonder what he's doing back?" Scott mused.

Stiles scoffs and shrugs his shoulders. "Come on." He started to walk away, Y/n and Scott following after one more look towards where Derek Hale disappeared to.

...

Y/n sat at home that night, curled up in the corner of the couch and worrying at her bottom lip. She stared into space as her mind swirled in a mixed mess. It was only the first day back at school and things are already kind of stressful. She didn't notice the other person in the room until the couch sagged next to her. She turned her head to see Alan giving her a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know." She said honestly.

"Well, I don't think the wall will be alright if you keep burning a hole through it." She gave him a weak chuckle as she looked at the wall again. "What's bothering you?"

She sighed and shook her head a bit. "It's hard to explain."

"Do your best."

She was quiet while she tried to get her thoughts in order. "The other night, I heard a howl. It was distant but I know what I heard. And now I find out today, Scott heard it too and he swears a wolf bit him." She looked at him again, concern, worry, and a slight bit of fear written on her face. "He's been acting strange too. He's hearing things only I would normally hear, and he's smelling things like my natural scent of flowers. I think that... I'm scared that..." She sighed in frustration. "My thoughts are so jumbled."

He put a comforting hand on her knee. "Tell me what you feel, then, instead of what you think."

She closes her eyes for a moment and when they open, they glow a slight purple before dimming back to e/c. "I feel like he's been bit by an Alpha. He's turning."

Alan's face turns serious. "Well, if your feeling is correct, and I've never known it to be otherwise, then Scott's going to have a tough time ahead of him."

"Tell me about it." She huffed. "What do I do?"

He was quiet for a moment as he thought of what best to advise. "Just be there for him and help him. If he's really been bitten, he's going to need his friends more than ever."

"What if he or Stiles starts asking questions about what I know? I can't tell them about me." She frowned at the thought. She's never had a reason to reveal what she was and when they learn about the supernatural she'd be lying about it.

"They'll be too preoccupied with Scott's new transformation to wonder about it much. For now, at least, don't worry about it."

"I'll try. Thanks... For helping me." She gave him a small smile and hugged him which he returned. "It's what I'm here for." He patted her back and pulled away. He got up and left her to her thoughts again, but this time they weren't as stormy.

...

"Y/n! Y/n!" The girl looked to the spastic boy who was yelling her name across the lacrosse field as she sat on the stands. She squinted her eyes in confusion watching Stiles run like a bat out of hell and got off the stands so that he wouldn't pile-drive people just to get to her.

"Whoa, whoa!" She cried out when he nearly rammed into her and held tightly to her shoulders. "Calm down there, Speedy. What's wrong?"

"Scott was right." He blurted.

"What? Right about what?"

"Scott was right! About a wolf! There was animal hairs on the body, wolf hairs!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he rushed off as he spotted Scott, which was probably a good thing because she wasn't even sure what she would say. Her feeling is turning out to be more and more correct as the seconds ticked by. As the game started Y/n could only watch in concern and a slight bit of awe as Scott easily skirted around other players and flipped over three other guys blocking his path to take a quick shot. The team gathered around Scott, praising his score and patting him on the shoulders. Coach called Scott over and she listened in, smiling a bit when he put Scott on first line. Maybe being a werewolf wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for him. Maybe it'll actually be good. Maybe.

But the pit in her stomach told her that maybe it won't be as good as she hopes. She looked over to Stiles to see him with a worried expression. She went over to him and sat next to him. "What's on your mind?" She nudged his shoulder lightly.

"I think- and I know this sounds crazy- but I think I might have been right. That joke I made the other day. I don't think it's much of a joke anymore. I think Scott is actually a werewolf." He looked at her in worry and all she could do was put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Whatever is happening here, we'll get through it. I know it." Stiles didn't answer. Just continued watching Scott in worry.

Later that day Y/n pedaled to a stop in front of Stiles' house, Scott doing the same a minute later. "Hey." She greeted.

"Hey. Do you know what Stiles called us for?" He quizzed.

"Nope." She shook her head. Well, she had a pretty good idea what it was. They both made their way into the house and up to Stiles' room where Scott knocked loudly.

The excitable boy opened the door and sighed in relief when he saw it was his friends who smiled at him. "Get in. You gotta see this thing." Stiles closed the door. "I've been up all night reading- websites, books. All this information."

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked.

"A lot." Y/n and Scott shared a smile at that. "Doesn't matter. Okay, just listen." Stiles urged.

"Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?" Scott sat his bag on the bed and sat himself down on the edge, Y/n placing herself next to him.

"No, they're still questioning people, even Derek Hale."

"Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day." Scott realized.

"Yeah! Yes. But that's not it, okay?"

"What, then?"

"Remember the joke from the other day?" Stiles scoffed. "Not a joke anymore." When Scott didn't catch on to what he was saying he elaborated. "The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading. Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?"

"It's like a signal." Y/n finally spoke up, both boys turning to face her. "A wolf howls to tell its pack where it is." When they both just stared at her she raised her brows at them. "What? I live with a vet and I like animals."

"Right." Stiles agreed. "So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em."

"A whole pack of wolves?" Scott wondered.

"No... Werewolves." Y/n frowned. This had been exactly what she thought this was about. But, while she was nervous, Scott was unbelieving.

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this?" Scott got up and started to grab his bag. "You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

"Scott, maybe you should listen to him."

"Not you, too." Scott looked at Y/n, slightly aggravated.

"He's got a point. I mean, Scott, we saw you on the field today. What you did wasn't just amazing, it was practically miraculous."

"Exactly!" Stiles pointed at her excitedly.

"Yeah, so I made a good shot." Scott brushed it off.

"No, you made an incredible shot, I mean..." Stiles grabbed Scott's bag and put it back on the bed. "The way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. People can't just suddenly do that overnight. And- and there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore."

"Okay!" Scott interrupted. "Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?! What? No! The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do?" The tension in the room rises and Y/n stands, feeling the spiking emotions. The first moon is sometimes the worst for newer wolves. "I-I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"He's not trying to ruin anything, Scott. He's trying to help you."

"You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon that will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

"Bloodlust?"

"It's like an uncontrollable urge to maim and kill." Y/n provided the info again.

"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Y/n." Scott said irritably.

"I'm sure you are." Y/n muttered under her breath.

"You gotta hear this." Stiles continued to rant. He grabbed a book and searched for what he wanted from it. "'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.' All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date. I'm calling her right now." He moved around Scott to his bag and rummaged around for Scott's phone.

"Wait, Stiles. You shouldn't-" Y/n tried to warn but she was cut off by Scott.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm canceling the date." Stiles had finally retrieved the device.

"No, give it to me!" Y/n felt heat flush her body as she felt Scott's anger reach a crescendo making him grab Stiles and shove him against the wall, fist raised and ready to strike.

"Scott, stop!" Y/n yelled forcefully. Scott's fist shook and he yelled as he swiped at Stiles' desk chair making it clatter to the floor.

Scott panted heavily as he looked between Y/n and Stiles. The air was thick as Scott realized what he was going to do. "I'm sorry." No one spoke. "I-I gotta go get ready for that party." He, more calmly, got his bag from the bed and went to the door, pausing to look at his friends again. "I'm sorry." And then he left, closing the door behind him.

Y/n let out a breath to calm herself as Stiles leaned his head back onto the wall and she looked over at him. "Are you okay?" She asked. He didn't answer but nodded his head a bit. Even with his assurance she wanted to assure herself so she went over to him and pulled him into a hug, which he gladly reciprocated. The two teens stood in silence for a moment before he pulled away with a sigh. She raised her brows in question and he nodded at her again.

"I'm good. Thanks." He gave her a small, appreciative smile.

"Anytime." He looked at his fallen chair and went over to it. He crouched down and picked it up, sitting it back on its wheels, but paused in his movements. He looked over his shoulder at Y/n with furrowed brows and moved for her to see. She frowned when she saw the three slash marks that scarred the chair from Scott's hit.

...

Y/n sat in her room and bounced her leg anxiously. The party was soon and she didn't want to go, she wasn't much of a party person unless she was in the mood for it, but tonight was the full moon and so she had to. She had to watch out for Scott. The first change is often the hardest and it'll be no different for him.

She jumped slightly when she heard a honk from outside. She looked out her window and smiled when she spotted the blue Jeep, giving Stiles a wave when he spotted her. She took one more glance in the mirror and flattened out any wrinkles in her clothes before she went downstairs. She spotted Alan on her way and stopped in front of him. "How do I look?" She asked.

He twirled a finger and she obliged by turning for him. When she faced him again he smiled. "Stunning as always." He finally said.

She rolled her eyes but still smiled. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true." He was silent for a moment, a tender look in his eyes. She felt a nostalgic feeling from him as he looked at her but also at something else, something not quite in the same space as them. "You look just like her."

A sad smile graced her features as she looked down and remembered her face. It's been a long time since she last saw her mother in person. Yeah, she has pictures, but it's not quite the same. The camera doesn't quite catch the proud gleam in M/n's eyes when Y/n showed off her growing skills. All she has is the memory that she desperately holds onto. And that's enough for now until she can see her again, one day in the future.

She looked back up at Alan and gave him a sudden hug. He huffed a laugh in amusement but hugged her back. "Thank you." Her voice was soft but he still heard her. He just squeezed her a bit tighter before they both pulled away. "Okay. I should go now. Stiles is waiting."

"Have fun. And be careful." He warned gently.

"I will." She gave him one more smile before she turned and rushed out the door and hopped into the Jeep. "Thanks for giving me a ride."

"No problem. You look really good, by the way." Stiles complimented.

"You don't look so bad yourself." They smiled and he started to drive to the party.

Music pounded through the house as teens danced together, several of them holding red or blue cups. Stiles and Y/n stood in the middle of moving bodies and looked around. "I don't see Scott." Stiles yelled over the noise and looked at her.

She took one more glance around. "He's probably not here yet. Stay in here. I'll keep an eye out for him outside."

"Sounds good." With that Y/n made her way to the backyard where more people were having a good time together. She looked around for her friend, but spotted someone unexpected. Her eyes narrowed as she made her way to the mysterious Hale, his eyes already watching her cautiously.

"I know what you are." She said as soon as she was close enough and folded her arms. "All I wanna know is, are you an Alpha?"

"No, I'm not."

"Show me." He rolled his eyes before they flashed a brilliant blue. She frowned at the color but decided to ignore it for now. "Okay. Then what do you want with Scott?"

"I'm just looking out for him. There are Hunters here."

A rush of fear coursed through her and she nearly stopped breathing. "What?" It came out a little more breathless than she intended, but wouldn't you be breathless too if you were presented with one of your biggest fears?

He didn't say anything else as his eyes were drawn behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Scott had arrived with Allison. Scott spotted them, looking between his friend and the stranger as a dog started barking. Derek looked behind him at the dog and then back at Scott, Y/n giving the canine creature a glance. Scott kept staring until Allison had gotten his attention. Derek took this chance to leave. Y/n gave the moon a nervous glance before returning to the party. She wandered aimlessly until a pair of familiar hands grabbed her and she found she was inside the house again. She looked up to see Stiles giving her a worried look.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She opened her mouth to say something, but slowly shut it realizing she didn't really have anything to say. So she just settled with, "Yeah, I'm fine." A sudden pull in her gut told her that something was happening and that that something was Scott. "But I don't think Scott is." Not even a moment after she said that Scott had started to practically stumble into the house, sweat on his brow and breathing heavily.

"Yo, Scott, you good?" Stiles asked as he got closer.

"Are you okay?" Another girl asked yet he just bypassed everyone and made his way to his car, speeding off as fast as he could. He was gone by the time Y/n and Stiles made it outside and they just barely caught Allison getting into Derek's car and driving off.

Y/n huffed in frustration and grabbed Stiles' wrist. "Come on." She dragged him to his Jeep and he drove them to Scott's house. Melissa wasn't home as the two bounded up the steps and to Scott's door. That was probably for the best. She tried to open the door and found it was locked so she pounded on it instead.

"Go away." She heard his meak reply.

"Scott, it's us." Movement from the other side and the door opened just a crack. They tried to open it further but Scott wouldn't let them. "Let us in, Scott. We can help."

"No! Listen, you gotta find Allison."

"She's fine, all right?" Stiles assured. "We saw her get a ride from the party. She's- she's totally fine."

"No, I think I know who it is."

"You just let us in. We can try-"

"It's Derek. Derek Hale is the werewolf. He's the one that bit me. He's the one that killed the girl in the woods."

"Wait, no." Y/n tried to correct. "No, Scott, he didn't-" She was cut off.

"Scott.. Derek's the one who drove Allison from the party."

"Oh, shit." Y/n felt Scott's mood shift a second before the door slammed on them and was locked again.

Stiles banged on the door. "Scott!" Stiles kept trying the door as Y/n heard a thump. Her breath hitched when she heard a roar and she pushed Stiles from the door and out of the house. "It's too late. Just check on Allison. I'll try and follow Scott."

"Wait, what?! You can't go out there by yourself! You could get hurt! Whoa!" He nearly fell as Y/n practically shoved him into the Jeep.

"Don't worry, I can handle myself. Just go." She didn't give him anymore time to argue as she started sprinting towards the woods. There wasn't time to track him so she just went in the general direction she had heard him run for a bit before she resorted to getting some help. She stopped for a minute and closed her eyes. When she opened them they blazed with a violet glow and she looked around at the few people now standing around there. "Have you seen a boy run through here?" She got a few nods. "Please, show me which way he went." One by one the figures pointed and she continued running, now following the dead's guidance.

She felt them before she saw them, the wolves and the Hunters. Her eyes returned to e/c as she saw a flash of light and heard Scott's scream of pain. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw three Hunters there. Like a truck hitting her, memories flashed through her head. Running through the woods. She was crying and she heard her mother scream. "Y/n! Run, just run!"

She was snapped out of her flashback when she heard, who she assumed, the lead Hunter speak. "Take him." That's when she spotted Scott, shifted and pinned to a tree by an arrow through his forearm. Suddenly one of the other Hunters was yanked back and she caught a glimpse of Derek. A rush of adrenaline urged her forward and to Scott where she broke the arrow and pulled him away as Derek threw the second Hunter before following them.

The three ran through the woods until Scott collapsed to the ground against a tree, panting. When he turned around and sat with his back on the tree he was back to normal. Y/n dropped to her knees taking deep breaths, her hands gripping onto any fabric they could find to stop from shaking. Derek looked around to make sure they got away for now. "Who were they?" Scott asked.

"Hunters." Derek answered. "The kind that have been hunting us for centuries."

"Us? You mean you! You did this to me!" Scott jumped up from the ground and shouted angrily.

"Is it really so bad, Scott? That you can see better... Hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope? You've been given something most people would kill for. The Bite is a gift."

"He should have had the choice to receive it." Y/n spoke up, finally finding her voice again. She shakily stood up, clenching her hands to stand stronger. "It should have been his decision."

"There's nothing to be done about that now. He has it."

"I don't want it." Scott said.

"You will. And you're gonna need me if you want to learn how to control it." Derek bent over and placed his hand on Scott's shoulder. "So you and me, Scott... We're brothers now." Derek walked away, leaving the teens by themselves. Scott gripped his injured arm and leaned his head back.

Y/n looked at him and his arm. She carefully made her way to his right so she could see it better. "Can I see?" She asked. He looked up at her like he was just realizing she was there but nodded and moved his hand. She gently took his arm and inspected the wound. It wasn't too bad, she could easily heal it. But the problem was healing it would raise more questions than she was willing to answer so soon. So instead she tore off a strip of her clothes, not really minding since she could always fix it later. She tied the fabric around his arm and he hissed at the contact. "Sorry." She pulled her hands away when she was done and looked up at him. "That should do for now. It might take a while, but you'll heal."

"Thank you." She gave him a small smile and a nod. She looked around with a sigh and stood up, holding a hand out to him.

"Come on. It's a ways before we get back home. Better start walking now." He took her hand, she helped him stand and they both started to trek through the woods.

...

By the time the sun was up Y/n and Scott were going down the side of the road, Scott still babying his injured arm. The sound of a car coming drew her attention and she looked over her shoulder, smiling in relief when she saw the most beautiful blue Jeep she had ever seen. She tugged on Scott's good arm to get him to turn as Stiles pulled to a stop next to them. Scott got into the front and Y/n happily hopped in the back, tossing a spare blanket at Scott before curling herself up in one and sprawling in the back.

"You know what actually worries me the most?" Scott asked after a while.

"If you say Allison, I'm gonna punch you in the head." Stiles responded.

"Leave the boy alone, Stilinski." Y/n mumbled tiredly from the back.

"She probably hates me now." Scott practically lamented.

"Ugh." Stiles sighed. "I doubt that. But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology. Or, you know, you could just... Tell her the truth and... Revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a frickin' werewolf." Scott gave him a look and Stiles backpedaled. "Okay, bad idea. Hey, we'll get through this." Stiles patted his arm. "Come on, if I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I could do it."

"I'm pretty sure l could get some puppy chow from the Clinic." Y/n offered with a sleepy smile. Scott scoffed at them with a smile and they continued their drive in silence.

After Stiles dropped Y/n off at home a few hours before school she closed the door behind her and just stood there for what felt like hours but was only a few minutes. Her eyes were glued to the floor, her mind filled with white noise. Alan had been waiting for her to get home and when she didn't come through the living room a bit after the door closed he decided to go to her. When he spotted her her expression looked almost exactly like it had years ago when she was a terrified little girl in front of his door, eyes watery with shadows of the past flickering in the e/c depths. This worried him because she wasn't one to be scared so easily. Something had to have happened that truly shook her.

She didn't seem to notice his presence, even when he was stood right in front of her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders as if he was handling a scared animal, and by all rights, he was. Her eyes flicked up to his and she just stared at him for a moment. Then it seemed like the night's events finally caught up to her as her breath hitched and tears spilled down her cheeks.

She practically fell into him and he held her up, not asking any questions because right now, all she needed was to be comforted. He would get answers later when she calmed down and was finally able to tell him what happened without choking up. It was moments like those she was thankful that she had found Alan and had been taken in by him and she would always be grateful for it.

Ch.2

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