#Scott is the mom friend come and argue with me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

georgiapeach30513 · 4 months ago

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Two Good Reasons, Part 2

Summary: The truth comes out

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, mention of fertility issues, depictions of depression, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Your leg bounces up and down when you look at your phone. You are late. And knowing Scott, he’s going to use this against you. You rarely went out. But this…

You look down at your clothes. His clothes. What else were you supposed to do but grab his button up, and some sweats. It still smelled like him, and you’re swooning. You can still feel him in your body. On your body. He didn’t just fuck you, he made sure to implant his entire soul in you, and it leaves you longing for more. Things with Andy have always been good enough for one time.

It was beautiful, and perfect, and just like how you would imagine seeing him again. But you can’t want him. Your life is a mess, and you can’t bring him into it. You give a nod to the Uber driver as you get out of the vehicle. Your heeled shoes oddly matched with his clothes, and make too much noise as you walk up the front steps.

Walking into the house, you’re met with Scott glaring at you. You don’t answer. You want to see your babies. But he makes a show out of looking at his watch. “You’re over an hour late.”

“Sorry, I ruined your Sunday morning, Scott.”

“And what the hell are you wearing?” His hand gestures down your body, and you feel your cheeks flare up in anger more than embarrassment. Like he had any room to talk. He smirks. Reaching across the counter to slide your wallet towards you. “The District Attorney dropped this off for you. Guess I know whose clothes you’re wearing. My god. How can you be so fucking stupid?”

“I’m stupid? How’s Taylor? Your twenty-three year old fiancé? She’s just waiting for the damn divorce to be finalized, huh?” He hates when you bring up the engagement, or her age. Hell, everyone could tell she was young. Most thought she was younger than twenty-three.

Scott takes a deep breath. His fingers tap on the counter. “If you give us the house, I won’t fight you for full custody.”

Your eyes immediately well with furious tears as you stare at the man that you loved so much. You gave up everything to give him the family and home he wanted. The only thing you couldn’t give him anymore was children. Taylor could. He made sure of it. Plus her boobs weren’t droopy from breastfeeding. Her hips weren’t wider from bearing children. Her hair wasn’t thinner because you gave to your babies.

“Why are you always crying? My god, we’ve been over this. You’re getting alimony. Why do you need this house?”

“Why do you?” you counter immediately.

He sighs, shaking his head, “Because we’re going to have a family. You’re — not.”

“You son of a bitch. You're bargaining my kids for this ugly house? You think you have a leg to stand on for full custody?” This is the thing that infuriates you most about Scott. He was a good father, but now that the veil has been removed, you see that his children were more of a show for him. Something to talk about at meetings. Brag about when Audrey got into the best Pre-K in the city. Not because he actually enjoyed them. That was you.

“I have a career. You have…”

“I was your wife, and their mom, nurse, teacher, friend, entertainment, cook, maid,” you would do it all again to spend time with them. Them. It pains you knowing that Suede is at a center, when with Audrey you spent every waking minute with her.

“Yeah, I get it. You did all that for me, but that still doesn’t mean anything. I paid for this house. I’m the one that makes the money.”

“Get out,” you answer blankly. Don’t argue with him outside of the courtroom. That’s what your cheap lawyer told you. Don’t give him ammunition to take your children away. He wanted you to stay at home. He wanted you to not use your college degree. He wanted you to give everything for the family.

“We’re not finished. I am trying to negotiate things with you. Especially since you’re running around sleeping with the DA. You think that’s going to actually help your case? Seriously?” Of all the things to say, this was the worst. To think he thought so little of you that you would sleep with someone that could leverage the case. He’s an ass. But he also knows about your Andy. Too bad, he didn’t realize they were the same person.

“Andy is not just the DA,” Scott looks over your features, and your mouth turns up into a smile. Is he really lecturing you about sleeping around? At least you chose someone that was more than a tight body and big tits. You chose someone you loved, could see a future with. And you were pushing him away, “Andy is an old friend.”

“You bitch,” you shrug, starting to walk backwards towards your children who should be taking a nap. “Are you fucking kidding me. That’s — you — don’t tell me you fucked him so…”

“Mommy!” You shoot him a glare as Audrey comes running down the hallway. Jumping into your arms, and you hug her so tightly. “You smell nice,” you hope Scott hears her. You weren’t into playing games where your children are concerned, but you hope he feels even a tiny prick of the pain you felt when you found him fucking Taylor in your bed. “Me and Suedey missed you.”

“I missed you, too, baby. You want to go get Suede, so you guys can tell daddy, bye?” She furrows her brows, while she looks at you confused. “Baby what is it?”

“It’s nothing. Audrey, go get Suede,” he gives her a little wink, and you place her back on the floor, and turn to look at him. “It’s nothing.”

“If that woman was in my house again, so help me God, Scott,” it’s the one thing you hated. Her being here. Of course you didn’t want them at her apartment either, and neither did Taylor. It was too small and they caused a mess, which is why overnight stays with their dad were few and far between.

“She doesn’t like being alone.”

“And the agreement was for her to not be in my dwellings. This is my dwelling.”

“And it should be ours! You don’t even want it. You hate it here. You’re just doing this because you don’t want Taylor and I to have it.”

“I’m doing this? Who is the one that said you won’t go for full custody if I give you the house? Taylor put you up to that?” Scott stops his retort as a swollen eyed Suede comes waddling into the room, and you lift him up. “Why is he snotty? I was gone one night, why is he snotty?” You hate being that mom, but with Suede, you have to be careful.

“He petted Trixie,” you look up at Scott dumbfounded. “It was just for a little bit and then…”

“Audrey,” Scott warns, and you want to throw things at him, and scream. She did nothing wrong. She is the child, and he is the adult. “Come give me a hug. I need to finish talking to your mom," you let your chubby toddler waddle off to his daddy. And Audrey gives you a lingering look before grabbing her brother’s hand. Apologizing as she drags him to the play room.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“He’s allergic to cats.”

“I gave him a Benadryl. He’ll be fine.”

You hate him. It isn’t much to ask for Taylor not to be here. And for her not to bring her fucking cat. “And what happens if she feeds him something with eggs?” Scott looks at the counter, and you wonder if he ever regrets getting involved with her. He’s the type of man that will force something to work. Because you didn’t stand for cheating, so he didn’t have another option.

“What happens if she gives him walnuts? Or milk? Or…?”

“Or gives him shell fish? Or strawberries? Or pineapples? Or whatever made up bullshit you have for him. She’s a kid and doesn’t know how bad his allergies are.”

You stare at him, and let him think about his fucking words. Seething because he sure knows how to piss you off. This was a good day. You stared at Andy’s sleeping body for too long before you tiptoed around his bedroom. Having sex so many times exhausted him now. “You’re right, she’s a kid. And had no business being with you. But our son’s health is not made up. I held his body when the nurse pricked his skin forty times, and he was wailing in my arms, and not understanding why his mommy was forcing him to do this. Don’t tell me it’s fucking made up Scott. Get out.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Get out. Leave. I can’t even look at you. This isn’t the you I married. You would never put our children’s health at risk,” he continues to stand there. Opening his mouth a bit, but you’re tired. You’re sore. And all you want is to play with your children. “I don’t need you to ask me if I’m going to use this against you. Yes, when it comes to my children’s lives and their safety, you’re damn straight I will make sure my children are alive to see another day, and not because some tramp thinks Seude’s allergies aren’t that fucking serious. Get. Out.”

He bites his lip before spinning on his heels quickly. You watch him walk out of your house, and life again. Sniffling when you lock the door. You take a few deep breaths before you have to put on your mommy shoes. It isn’t easy being a mother. Especially a single mother. It’s not easy seeing the man that you built a life with walk away so callously. To see him building a life with someone younger. Someone who can give him what he wants.

Someone who didn’t spend months and months on fertility treatments that made her feel like her skin was crawling. Like her mind was shattered. Having to schedule sex, and hope and pray that it will work. All the useless damn pregnancy tests that were always negative. Stressed, and trying to be what he wanted, only to find him fucking the babysitter, while your children slept in the next room. And it was your fault you caught them, you got back home early.

Scott didn’t even begin to understand stress. He could never understand the ups and downs your mental state went through just trying to give him what he wanted. You had Audrey and Suede. One of each, you weren’t greedy. But everything you ever did was always for him. Put on a smile when you’re hurting so bad internally. Smiling to the neighbors because everything was perfect. And you had a perfect home, and inside you were screaming because that wasn’t happiness.

The only happiness you currently have is your kids. They’re enough. They’re the reason you wake up every morning, and take them to the nursery school. They’re the reason that you get excited that Audrey wears a little uniform now that she’s in Pre-K. They put a smile on your face everyday. And those hard days when they test your every patience, and you are the one that has to be the positive one and get them in the bed, but who takes care of you?

You wanted a family and a partner. Someone that would team up with you, and take some of this load off. Someone that could entertain the kids, while you had one hour to yourself, just so you can take a bath and read. You wanted someone you could trust to be around your kids, and you’re wondering where things went wrong with Scott. Yeah, you’re sure he was stressed, but what about your stress? You’re the one who didn’t even enjoy sex anymore because it was a chore. And you did it for him.

Gods, Andy wasn’t a chore. Minus the ache in your core, that you know is going to be there for awhile. Bruised, raw, stiff, sore, and stretched. He fucked you, and fucked you so hard and deep. But then — later in the night, he kissed you. He kissed you so hard that your body prepared for him in seconds. You craved him. But he didn’t fuck you. He pushed into your warmth so slow that you knew he was making sure your body memorized him. That wasn’t fucking. That was claiming. It was euphoric. It was making love, and hoping that his body can make you change your mind. He still wants you.

That is what you want with sex. Not to just lay there, and let them take what you want, while you count the cobwebs on the ceiling. But Andy didn’t deserve whatever is going on between you and Scott. Andy deserves the world. He always has.

It isn’t anything, really. Just the average separation, and fighting for custody that Scott didn’t deserve. But you want to be divorced. You want these conversations to be done with. You want him to man up, and just be the part time dad. It’s what he was anyways. But you made it clear that Andy had you for one night. And even now saying it out loud, you hate yourself. But it’s the right thing to do. Because had Andy been present for this, his usual calm and collected demeanor would have been tested.

“What are you two doing?” You jump around the door, and both kids squeal. Suede gives a few strides before he’s crashing into your legs. “Bubba, I think you’re going to have to get your nose cleaned out at bathtime.”

“Nope. Me pay Sis,” he hates getting his nose cleaned out, and you hate that he has done it enough to know what you’re talking about.

“Mommy, I didn’t mean to get daddy in trouble.”

“Shh,” you sit on the floor, and pull her close to you. Kissing on top of her head, and she fumbles around with her little figurines. “The important thing is you told mommy that Suede was around something that can make him sick. That’s called being a good big sister, okay?”

“You promise?”

“I do,” and you curse Scott for making her worry about a grown man. It was something Scott wouldn’t have told you. Bending the truth because Suede was fine. Audrey, your strong sweet girl, knew it was wrong, and knew it could make her brother sick.

“Can we go to soft play tonight?” You look at her confused. Scott said that he was going to take them there with Taylor. Since she was supposed to be here. “Daddy said that they were closed. Do you think they’re closed today?”

“No, baby. They’re not today,” you always had to go with Scott’s lies. Taylor never wanted to do ‘baby things’. You wondered how that was going to work when she had children of her own. “You think mommy can take a shower with the door open and you and Suede not get into trouble?”

“Can we get ice cream, too?” She gives you a devilish grin, and you nod your head with a smile. “Are you going to use your bathroom?”

“No, I’ll use yours. That way I can still hear you, if you need me,” Audrey isn’t dumb. She knows you’re lying. In reality you couldn’t use yours and Scott’s bathroom anymore. It had the beautiful tub that was part of the reason you and him decided on this house. You couldn’t even sleep in your bed. Not after they defiled it.

You knew that was the real reason, and still you made excuses as to why you slept on the couch. Your favorite was to make sure nobody came through the front door. Whatever lie helped you sleep at night. Maybe you should just give Scott the house. But it’s the principle of the matter that he used your children as leverage. You want him to pay, and you want him to be their father, you want them to have a good relationship with him and Taylor, and you want things to not be so fucking difficult. You never get what you want.

You remember the most beautiful parts of your marriage. Audrey in a world of her own, while Suede goes from watching her to rolling his cars around. They were your sanity. Your saving grace, and the only reasons you’ve survived thus far. Your thumb trails over your naked ring finger. You didn’t realize you would miss it so much. But was it the ring you missed or the husband you had? You can’t even think of Scott in the same way as before. He sullied your relationship and has proven too often that Taylor is more important than your everything’s.

“So,” Sloane says as Andy walks past you and into Ransom’s office. You didn’t question why Andy needs to meet with him. It goes with the territory and the less you know the better off you are. “Big dick daddy doesn’t pay you any mind anymore?”

You choke on your coffee as you glance up at her. How the hell would she know about Andy’s dick or your involvement? “I mean, the man prances around the courthouse like he’s got a dick made out of lead. Acts like he owns the whole court system. And for a while, he always made a point to ask you for coffee, or dinner, or brought you pastries. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” you go back to your work. Sloane could be a nosy woman. Always digging for more information. And even now, she’s eyeing you like you’ve done something wrong.

“You when I think that things changed?”

“Nope,” you sigh, but she sure is going to tell you. Andy respected your wishes for just one night. But you hoped that he wouldn’t. And you know you’re acting silly. There was this part that is bigger than you really want to admit that hoped he wouldn’t give up on you. Because maybe once things are settled with Scott you might consider it.

“It might have something to do with his celebration of another year as District Attorney, and the two of you not so casually leave together. You kinda forgot your car here,” your fingers freeze, and you look up at her curiously. “You two left out the door together, and your car was here? Seriously?”

“I had a flat tire.”

“No, you didn’t,” there isn’t another way you can lie, so you just sit at your desk, staring at her. “So how was it? I’m assuming that you had sex. You’ve got kids, you’re not a virgin. So why not? Is he as big as people think?”

“People talk about his dick size?”

“Not just talk about his dick size, but have tried to break his impenetrable force field of his private life. And you come in here, and everyone is envious because he immediately showed interest in you. Why?” Her eyebrow cocks up, and she smiles. “Keep your secrets. Cause I know you fucked him, and I know now that he barely even looks at you. So either you told him how it was going to be, or…”

Her voice trails off as she walks away from your desk, “Or what?” That sounds ominous, and you didn’t want an or. You want to know that Andy doesn’t hate you. But what could make him hate you that much? The only thing would be, “Scott…”

—

“Stop moping,” Ransom rolls his eyes, but Andy is so far lost in thought it annoys Ransom. “You’ve been like this for a couple of weeks,” Andy ignores Ransom, stirring his coffee. “What’s wrong, your highness?”

“Your office manager.”

“Was the sex that bad?” Andy looks up at him confused. Scrunching up his brows, while he wonders when Ransom thinks he had sex with you. “You two weren’t subtle. She was all giggly, and you were dragging her out the door. Liquid courage I guess. Not to mention, Sloane said that her car was here once everyone left. Office hookups are severely frowned upon, but you needed laid. But I guess…it was bad.”

Andy shakes his head no. “And we had agreed on sex while she was sober,” you were sober. And cute. And flirty. And Andy was not going to miss an opportunity. Until he found out you are married.

“How romantic. Now, since the sex was good, let’s get to work.”

“She told me that I could only have her one night. We have a bit of a history, you see,” Ransom rolls his eyes, twirling his hand and motioning Andy to speed up the conversation. He didn’t care what kind of history you had. He just wants the conversation to end so he can get down to business. “She’s married.”

Ransom shakes his head no, and leans to reach in a bottom drawer of his desk. Grabbing up a file folder, he drops it on the desk in front of Andy, and he pulls it towards him. Opening up the folder, he reads through it, and looks at Ransom, holding his breath. “Yeah, that’s a petition for full custody of her kids from her wonderful estranged husband, Scott Huffman. Her working here wasn’t just because she needed a job. She actually went to college to be…”

“A CPA. I’m aware. We have a history.”

“And didn’t know about her legal separation?” Ransom is annoyed. Ransom hates getting off track. There is a schedule, and Andy isn’t sticking to it. “Her lawyer is one of the cheapest ones. She needs new representation, and for some godforsaken reason, I pity her. Scott doesn’t need his kids full time. He’s got him some blonde that’s too young for him, but he’s got the money. She was a stay at home mom, and she deserves her kids, so I’m trying to make that happen. And no, you cannot intervene. You actually met him didn’t you? Scott?”

“I’ve met him in court a few times.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t get involved. She’s not married. Well, she’s legally separated. So if that’s what the issue is, get over it,” Ransom is sometimes way to blunt, but it’s the reason Andy admires him. His pension for being a spoiled brat helped him be a better ADA. “That fucker is still calling her his wife isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Men like him love to show that they still own her. Using her kids against her, no doubt. But,” Andy holds his hands up in surrender. He knows Ransom can see right through him concerning this situation. “I won’t interfere.”

“Was her pussy that good?”

“It was always that good, but it was never about the sex,” he meets his eyes before he closes the folder, and extends it to Ransom. He misjudged the situation. And then he probably has been making you feel like a wet hole by ignoring you these past couple of weeks. “God, I'm an idiot.”

”Yeah, now if you can stop ignoring her, and go back to your obvious shameless flirting. It sounds like the two of you, if you want a future, need to fucking talk. Just like we’re supposed to be doing.”

Ransom is right. About a lot of things. He pushes the urgent need to talk to you aside. He wants to apologize for ignoring you, and even the horrible things he thought. He wants to understand what really happened in your marriage, if you want to talk. He wants to let you know that you have a friend in him. Not just a sexual need. He cares about you. And knowing that a ruthless man is trying to get full custody of your children, sickens him. Scott worked too many hours to ever need those children.

But mostly, he wants to know the new you. The one you kept hidden, and the one that grew up and created a new life. He wants to know that you are okay. And that you have someone with a steady head to lean on. He wants you. He always has. And he’ll be whatever you need. If you’ll let him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

#two good reasons #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fic #andy barber fics #chris evans #chris evans character #defending jacob #scott huffman

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okay-j-hannah · 5 months ago

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Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, Stiles pining, slight NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, talk of scars {good and bad}, dementia, hospital death, abuse

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: I COULDN'T RESIST 😭 Their chemistry is TOO GOOD

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar {You Are Here}

Part 7: The Summer Filter

Scott was frantically searching his bedroom for his phone, arguing with Stiles along the way. “The Argent’s plan was to use Derek to get the Alpha. They’re not gonna kill him.”

Stiles sways in a swivel chair, blatantly not helping. “Alright, so then just let them do what they’re planning, you know? They use Derek to get Peter, problem solved.”

“Not if Peter’s going after Allison to find Derek!”

Frown growing on his face, Stiles picks at the weathered wood of the chair, “You know this wasn’t why I came over.” He waits for a reply that doesn’t come – Scott is under his bed, throwing socks and crumpled papers out of the way. Stiles huffs, “We’ve had a major (Y/N) development… hello? Earth to Scott! (Y/N) slept in my bed last night!”

He grinds his teeth at the lack of a reaction, “And she asked me to take Allison to the formal, which is stupid because we could get Jackson or another lacrosse meathead to do that. I should be taking (Y/N) to the formal!”

Scott bangs his head on the underside of his bed, scrambling to get out, “Shut up!” he hisses.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?!”

Scott hushes him, “I hear voices in the driveway.” He cocks his head to the window and squints his eyes in concentration.

“Who is it?”

“My mom coming home from work… and she’s been crying,” Scott deflates, sinking in on himself. “And (Y/N)’s with her.”

Stiles wheels the chair towards Scott, looking ridiculous with his legs spread out and paddling against the hardwood floor. “What are they saying?”

“(Y/N)’s trying to cheer her up. She’s asking to see me. She’s worried.” He doesn’t even have the energy to groan his sorrow as he sits on the bed, void of dramatics.

Stiles takes a breath, hearing his friends anxiety without needing the words. “Scott, you can’t protect everyone.”

The beat that follows is short and tense, resignation in Scott as he says, “I have to.”

“Well, we’re going to have to put a pause on that because (Y/N) is probably coming inside any second now.” Stiles straightens his jacket, “And she doesn’t want to be involved in any werewolf stuff, remember?”

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to be friends with her and keep her from all that,” Scott sighs, laying on his back and covering his face with his hands.

“Like it or not, she may be the eventual love of my life, meaning you have to suck it up and deal with it.” Stiles chokes on his breath as you knock on the wall before entering the open door.

You wince at the coughing fit Stiles is in, “Good morning.” Your eyes fall on Scott, “I hear something went down last night,” you fold your arms, “Melissa just told me outside. She’s seriously torn up about it.”

Scott finally is able to groan his frustrations, “Everything is going to shit.”

“Someone’s down in the dumps,” you smile, but stop upon seeing the lack of enthusiasm on Stiles’ face. “Any updates?” You play with your fingers, worry evident in your stance as you look between the boys. “Look, just because I don’t want to be there for the werewolf crap doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about it afterwards.”

“Derek took Jackson to the Hale House and drew Scott out,” Stiles resigns, “It turned into a giant werewolf battle that ended with Scott being shot by the Argents and Derek going missing.”

You whip your head to Scott, lines of worry in your brow, “Are you okay?”

Scott lifts his shirt in a silent reply – no bullet wounds in his torso. He rolls over onto his feet and grumbles, “Deaton patched me up.”

If it was possible, your brows arch even closer to your hairline, “Deaton like your vet boss Deaton? He knows about all this too?”

“Evidently,” Stiles shrugs his shoulders.

“And Peter showed up to threaten Allison’s safety. He thinks the Argents have Derek and now I have to be on guard 24/7 to make sure she’s safe. Not to mention my mom went out with the maniac last night and you are the number one first target should a werewolf want to kill my pack…” Scott was tangling his fingers in his shaggy hair, “And with not going to the dance I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep her safe.”

You walk to stand in front of him, “Scott,” you say softly, “Noone expects you to be a guard dog for all your friends 24 hours a day. That’s impossible and too high an expectation for yourself. You’re just a sophomore in high school.” You raise your arms to grab Scott’s wrists, easing them from his head, “You shouldn’t have to be worrying about all this – it’s why you’re failing your classes.”

He lets you hold onto his arms between you, “But I have to worry; it’s all my fault. And I’ve screwed myself in the long run because now I’m banned from a whole night where anything could happen to you guys.”

You listen, eyes soft and sad, “I wanted to talk to you about who you think should take Allison to the dance, just so you feel more at ease about it.” You finally let go of his arms, returning to your finger picking. “Any ideas?”

“Jackson,” he says, ignoring the silent cheers coming from Stiles behind you. “He likes her, and they have a decent friendship, even if he won’t admit it.”

You nod, “Sounds good. Do you need me to help in any way?”

“Are you going to the dance with Andrew?” he asks, checking all his boxes.

“I don’t know,” you say, “He hasn’t asked me yet, but I have a feeling he might after our date tomorrow.” The smile on your face says it all and Scott again ignores the despair hitting Stiles – the poor boy banging his head into his crossed arms on the chair.

“Let us know,” Scott says, now fixated on finding a way to protect his mom, “We still have a week until the dance.”

You smile, but your eyes are pinched with empathy, “I’ll try to have as many sleepovers as possible with Allison and Lydia this next week,” you say determinedly, “I know you were thinking about stalking her house at night.”

“Only to keep watch,” he says with a slight upturn of his lips.

“But you need your sleep,” you pat his shoulder, turning around, “Doctor’s orders.” You spy on the last remnants of Stiles’ despair as he wipes his face of emotion. You grimace at the terrible unevenness of his hoodie strings. “And have you figured out someone to ask to the dance?”

You move to pull on his hoodie strings, evening them out as you adjust the fabric around his neck. He gulps and takes a second to respond.

“Not yet,” he gasps out a laugh, “We’ll see.”

“There’s always Lydia,” you smile, flattening the fabric against his wide shoulders. “Or you could just go stag.”

~~~

You drive with Lydia that night. It had been so long since the two of you hung out that it was almost awkward visiting the strip mall together – the same one you went to on your first date with Andrew.

The white fairy lights were just starting to turn on as you enter a beauty shop. Lydia goes right for the latest face serums while you follow along. “Don’t you already have every skincare product alive?”

“You can never have too many,” she says, holding up something pink and shiny.

“Actually, too many products can mess with your skin barrier and…”

Lydia holds up a finger, “That doesn’t stop me from having them sit pretty on my vanity.”

You giggle, running your eyes over the pretty packaging of various bottles. They really knew how to draw your attention. “I need a new lip gloss,” you say, encouraging Lydia’s shopaholic tendencies.

“Let me show you some of my favorites,” she says quickly, purse hanging from the crook of her elbow.

Shopping with Lydia was fun, especially when she made you feel beautiful and offered to buy things for you. She had you holding a few things for herself, but also a couple products for you that she refused to let you buy.

“Have you found someone to go to the formal with?” you ask nonchalantly, checking Lydia’s mood.

“I’ve narrowed it down to a couple lacrosse players. We’ll see who asks me by tomorrow.” She purses her lips and leads the way to the checkout line. “Do you know who Allison is going with?’

You hum your response, “Um… I think Jackson might ask her.”

Lydia takes a deep breath, “Sure. Why not.”

“Are you not okay with that?” you ask quietly, “I’m sure Allison will say no if you want her to.”

“I’m not going to control what that conceited little man wants to do. He was a moron to let me go – clearly I’ve been doing better than him since. You know after every lacrosse practice he just goes home? I haven’t seen him at a single after practice party.”

You pull your card out to pay for your things and she smacks your wrist. “How often does the team meet after practice?”

“Like once or twice a week,” she shrugs, “Jackson never liked to go, though. He doesn’t like doing things for popularity’s sake.”

“I’ve noticed he kind of just does things that serve his own best interests.”

“Exactly,” she says a little exasperatedly, handing you the shopping bag. “He’s so full of himself. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

You hold open the door as Lydia storms out, shoulders tense at the thought of him. “Hey, crazy thought…” you say with a giggle, “Do you want to go spy on him?”

Lydia stops on the cobblestone sidewalk, giving you a dose of skepticism. “Are you crazy?”

“Come on, we could just drive past his house,” you say, still smiling, “It’s what girls do after a hard breakup.”

Consideration fills her gaze, slowly starting to walk again. The click of her heels builds a rhythm as her confidence grows, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to see what he does on a weeknight. I swear he’s become so boring now.”

You laugh, linking arms with her and going for the car. You think about what Stiles said at the hospital. Jackson was focused on getting the werewolf bite. He was becoming an obsessive recluse in his hunt for power. It was no wonder that he avoided people that wouldn’t help him with his mission.

The drive to the upper class part of town was fast and full of loud music. Lydia looks determined as she turns into the neighborhood, headlights blinking off. You turn down the radio and look upon the grand estate that was the Whittmore house.

It looks renovated in comparison to some of the other houses on the street.

“They sure like a clean and modern look,” you remark at the plain white walls and geometric windows.

Lydia scoffs, parking across the street a little away. “He was always so proud of his money. Like it made him something he’s not.”

You feel a twinge of pity. “The poor thing. His Porsche is here – I bet he’s brooding in his bedroom.”

Pointing a finger, Lydia picks the window to Jackson’s room, “He’s up there; the lights on.”

The pair of you deduce what the reclusive boy might be doing. You were just laughing about anime porn and edibles when a loud voice starts yelling within the house you’re parked in front of. Lydia stops her laughter, looking to her right to peer out your window.

“Someone’s having a fight inside.”

You wince at the persistent yells, “Sounds pretty serious.” There was a crash and a boom. It made you jump being the closer of the two to the house. “Oh my god, what are they doing? Breaking things?”

A breath catches in Lydia’s throat when another bellowing yell seems to shake the windowpanes. “Maybe we should get out of here.”

Your mouth falls open when it sounds like someone slams into the front door. “Maybe we should call someone for help.”

The front door opens and a teenager falls out onto his side. He scrambles to get away from whatever was happening within. He trips down the concrete stairs of the front porch and finally makes it to his feet.

You audibly gasp, recognizing the teenager as Isaac Lahey. “Holy shit, I know him!” You go to open the door and Lydia cries out.

“Wait! We should…”

“Lydia…” you spot something bleeding on the side of Isaac’s face, “He’s hurt and he needs help.” You don’t even let her begin a retort as you leap out of the car at Isaac’s retreating form. “Isaac!”

He flinches, turning around in a frenzied motion. He looks wild with fear, holding his hands out like he was going to stop whatever was after him. In a second he looks even more uneasy, “(Y/N)?”

“Get in the car,” you say, keeping your distance, “We’ll get you out of here for a while.”

He looks at the slightly open front door and the look of desperation on your face. He swallows hard and seems fidgety with adrenaline.

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, taking a step forward. “I can help, Isaac. I work at a hospital – I can fix you up. Let’s go take a break somewhere else. Somewhere safer.”

Isaac looks to be choking on something – whether breath or words, you weren’t sure – but you feel a drop of relief as he follows your lead into the car.

Lydia looks petrified as she faces forward, two hands on the wheel. “This is not how I expected tonight to go.”

You put on your seatbelt and ask her firmly to drive to your house. “Is that okay, Isaac? My dad is at the firehouse and my mom is probably napping on the couch. She always does after having some of her tea.”

“Um…” Isaac wraps his arms around himself, trying to hide just like he did in the computer lab. “Yeah, sure.”

In those few seconds you look over your shoulder, you check the bleeding to the side of his face. The skin must’ve split open from some kind of force. In another second you notice the bruise around his eye.

It was yellow and green with age.

It’s quiet as Lydia tensely drives the car to your house. You try to silently thank her for going along with your plan. You were concocting scenarios in your mind as to why Isaac was so hurt. The yells, the bruises, the crashes and bangs, the fear as he scrambled away.

You think, sadly, of how alone Isaac always was. You realize that there wasn’t a single instance you could think of when he was with anyone. There was just that one time you spoke with him in the computer lab.

What was he actually dealing with at home?

Lydia was curt as she drove away from your house, no doubt brewing a passive aggressive text for you. Isaac, though extremely tall, seems to shrink beside you. He doesn’t look up as he follows your footsteps.

“Is this okay?” you ask gingerly, stopping at the door. “I just want to take you upstairs and have a look at that cut. It’ll be a quick bandage and then we can do whatever you like. We’ll take a break for a while.”

He seems to stew for a few seconds, not daring to look you in the eye. You suddenly wish to see them bright blue with the smile he got from laughter. The one you complimented him on. He finally speaks in a quiet tone, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Good,” you say, opening the door and going for the stairs. Peering over the banister you see just as you predicted. Your mother is fast asleep with a book resting open on her chest, and an empty mug of tea on the side table. “I swear that chamomile one she has puts her right to sleep.”

You walk upstairs and to the hallway bathroom. You put the toilet lid down and gesture for him to sit. Under the sink, and next to an array of things that sometimes help you when you feel faint, is a first aid kit.

Isaac looks wary as he holds his hands in his lap. It seems pretty plain what was going on. Something to do with an angry dad at home. You suddenly remember how apprehensive he was when you mentioned asking his dad for permission to go on the spring retreat.

“What was it that split your cheek open?” you ask gently, just a few inches taller than him as he sits.

He looks fearful to admit the truth. “I uh… fell.”

You nod, knowing it was a lie. “Pretty hard fall,” you give him a sad smile as he appears relieved you don’t question further. “I’m just going to clean it and put a butterfly bandage on, okay?”

He swallows again, wringing his hands, “Sure.” He winces as you swab a disinfectant wipe along his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

“It’s okay,” is his reply. He continues to be on edge as you pinch the cut closed and place a butterfly bandage on it. You let the silence continue if that is what he wants to do.

You’re throwing away the used wipes now, “Is that what happened to your eye?” you ask, “Another bad fall?”

He looks at you and seems to soften at the understanding in your gaze. It was warm and safe. He takes a deep breath, “Yeah. Another fall.”

“Would you consider yourself pretty clumsy?” you ask vaguely, stating the obvious without saying it out loud.

He catches on pretty quick, “It depends. Some days are better than others.”

You nod again, “Would you like something for the pain? I’ve got some ibuprofen or Tylenol.”

He agrees and follows you down the stairs again to find your mother groggy on the couch.

“Oh, hello sweetie,” she says, rubbing her eyes, “Who’s this?”

“This is Isaac,” you introduce, filling a glass with water. “He lives by Jackson Whittemore.”

Angela smiles though her eyes are droopy, “Nice to meet you, Isaac.” She suddenly squints, “What happened to your face, dear?”

He freezes as you open the medicine cabinet, “Oh, just lacrosse practice.”

He looks grateful, adding quietly, “I uh… got tackled without my helmet.”

“Boys,” Angela says funnily, “Well, hopefully it heals fast.”

Isaac gives a half smile before accepting the medicine from you, “Thank you.”

You’re still gentle as you reply, “You’re very welcome.”

~~~

The next night turns into a better one as you go on your second date with Andrew. He takes you to a Barnes & Noble, buying you a book and a coffee inside. Sitting in the little indoor café, sipping hot drinks and nibbling on pastries, you discuss your favorite genres.

Andrew listens to you with bright eyes, a sweet smile on his face. He takes you back to his house after that, turning on a Disney movie like you agreed on the last date. It only took about twenty minutes before he was pulling your chin towards his.

The night ends with a long-winded makeout and a winter formal proposal.

You were fit to burst with the information the next day, wanting to talk to the girls about the whole thing – but Allison had been off the radar the last couple of days and Lydia was attending after practice parties with the lacrosse team.

No doubt scouting for her next boyfriend (and date to the formal).

The next best option was Stiles. He picks you up and takes you to the nearest gas station for drinks and treats. You grab all your favorites, including peach rings and a large orange creamsicle.

The perfect summer treats to remind you of your favorite season.

Stiles insists on paying for the load, throwing his gummy worms and sodas on the counter. “I’d slip you cash anyway if you tried to pay.” He’s amused by your sweet smile as you open the creamsicle.

He even opens the jeep door and holds all the packages before dumping them on the floor between you.

“You’re going to step on them as you drive,” you cry, reaching down to shove all the snacks towards your feet. You almost lose a line of melting orange from your creamsicle. You lick a long stripe up the cold pop, “Should we just stop at the park?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah sure,” he says, putting the jeep in gear. “You enjoying that popsicle?”

Your lips kiss the tip of the pop, embarrassed when it makes a slurping sound, “Of course, it’s the best desert besides cheesecake.” The park isn’t far from the gas station, Stiles parking in front of the field and playground, turning off the engine. You continue to kiss and lick the creamsicle until orange and white ice cream is coating your lips.

Stiles wonders what it would taste like to kiss it off.

“My mom used to take me to this park when I was little,” you say, settling against the door and kicking your feet onto the seats.

Stiles does the same, one leg bent onto the seats and the other off the edge, able to bounce if needs be. “My mom did too,” he adds, a finger at his temple and thumb at the beginning of his jawline. He considers you, “I can see you just dying to tell me what happened.” He says it with convincing eagerness, but his face is placid as he says it.

He chooses to focus on how you lick the last remnants of ice cream off the wooden stick. It made him squirm within five seconds.

“Well, Andrew did ask me to the winter formal,” you say in hushed tones, “But that isn’t the best part. We kissed again and not just a goodbye on the doorstep kind of kiss – like a on the couch with a movie in the background kind of kiss. It must’ve been like forty-five minutes before his parents got home.”

And before you knew it, you were delving into the details of the entire night, focusing on the exciting kiss at the end. You start to compare the kissing with other boys you’ve been with before, critiquing the skill level and any corresponding downsides.

You open the sugary peach rings, chewing on them as you say, “Overall, I’d give it a solid B or B-.”

“You’re kidding!” Stiles retorts, stretching a gummy worm between his fingers, “You just went off about how great it was.”

“Yeah, but…” you shrug, sticking a peach ring on the tip of your finger like it was a life preserver for it. “… his technique was a little much.”

Stiles bites the head off his gummy worm, “What do you mean?”

“He was kind of abrasive, I had to keep telling him to slow down.” At the look of confusion on Stiles’ face, you keep going – you forget that he’s never kissed anyone before. “From the first kiss it was like he was eating my face. They were very open mouthed, and he kept trying to use tongue. I finally told him to slow down after I felt our teeth knock a couple times.”

Stiles grimaces, “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“I didn’t peg him for being the aggressive kisser,” you shrug, “It might’ve been nice if I wasn’t so surprised – like I could’ve matched his energy a bit better.”

“So, you… wait – what kind of kissing do you like?”

You ponder the question, eating the peach preserver on your finger, “I like it slow at first, you know – like you hold a cheek and draw each other in. Then it should get heavier, like more firm kisses, and you usually start moving at that point. Like… you get closer and I might sit on his lap or something.” You pull apart another peach ring, playing with the sticky gumminess between your fingers, “Then I like it when… oh my god, this was another thing! He never left my mouth.”

Stiles was only able to listen because of (1) his feelings for you and (2) the possibility that he could get some pointers on how to charm you. He had to listen to your previous encounters – a very real knife of white hot pain stuck in his collarbone and digging down his sternum – but he was getting a front row seat to your kissing preferences.

“I thought that’s how kissing works?”

You throw a candy at him, and he chases it down his chest. “Yeah, one type of kissing. But that gets boring after ten minutes. I like it when they start to kiss my neck and chest. How did you think people got hickeys?”

Stiles grumbles, head drifting to not just your ice cream lips, but the warm pulse at your neck, and the beauty marks on your skin below that. He quickly understood the desire to kiss other parts of the body.

“I get it,” he says, taking another sip of his soda. He kept finding his throat going dry, “So start slow, get more intense, and don’t forget to kiss other areas.” He nods to himself, “And the tongue thing?”

You grimace, “It can be nice if they know what they’re doing.” You sigh, slouching against the car door, “Easton from down the street was a heavy tongue guy. Like he saw one couple frenching on tv and decided that was the best way to kiss. It was like… so so wet. My chin was covered in drool by the time he left.”

Stiles was already hot around the collar, skin splotchy with red and pink. But he was starting to get an awful anxious feeling in his stomach, “There are so many things to remember.”

You look endeared as you lean forward, “But when you’re with the right person, it just feels natural. You click like all the puzzle pieces fit between you. You stop thinking about all the details and just go with what feels good.”

He tilts his head, and he looks so nervous and curious, “Was that Adam from San Fransico?”

The breath catches in your throat for a second, “Nearly. It was like a first love. It did feel natural with him, but our puzzle pieces didn’t all fit right.”

Stiles bites at his lips, “I think I had something similar to that. Never to the point where we kissed, but… I kind of obsessed over Lydia for a couple years.”

Your eyes widen, “You’re kidding, our Lydia?”

He nods, embarrassed, “Our puzzle pieces didn’t fit right either. Come to think of it, it didn’t really feel natural either. I guess that’s a pretty crummy first love, huh?” He smiles like he pities himself.

You frown, so entirely endeared by him that you feel a warmth enter your chest at his somber expression. The desire to hold him and show him what it feels like to be natural and wanted came on hard and fast.

“You can always learn to be a good kisser,” you smile, “But yes, having your puzzle pieces all fit makes all the difference in the world.”

“And how did you learn to be a good kisser?” he asks, crumbling his candy wrappers and throwing them in the back.

“That’s a bold assumption,” you laugh, “I never said I was a good kisser.”

He shrugs, playing with the hem of his shirt now, “I can just tell. There’s no way you’re a bad kisser.”

You feel rosy at those words, “I just learned from trial and error. I never had a teacher or anything.”

“I bet you’d be an excellent teacher,” he mumbles. His eyes go wide, clamping his mouth shut, biting his tongue.

You’re giddy as you laugh, “There’s only one way to find out, I guess.” Your eyes trail around his mole-dotted skin, guiding you to his slightly chapped lips and the cupids bow that leads to his perked nose. You love how red and flushed his skin is.

“What are you implying, Miss. Westbrook?” His eyes are bright, but he is deadly still.

“I don’t know,” your hands go to your temples, laughing a bit breathlessly. “Must be a sugar rush, don’t mind me.” There is something hot and heavy filling the space of the jeep, and you suddenly want to open the window to let in some cold air. You feel Stiles’ eyes on you like a deer caught in the headlights.

The silence is deafening as you turn your peachy gaze to his. He is flushed and breathing heavy and…

You consider it.

“Friends can kiss.” You pout adorably as you reason, “Scott and I kissed.”

“Not willingly,” Stiles says in his breathless voice, a small smile curling his chapped lips.

You wave a hand, “It’s purely a teaching moment.”

“Exactly…”

“But we did already make a kissing pact.”

“We can null and void the whole pact. Make it invalid based on… new circumstances.” He looks deep into your eyes before snapping out of it, shaking his head. “Wait… no, I… kissing you (Y/N)…” he was really struggling, fidgeting in his seat. “I want to but… what if I’m a terrible kisser and you’re so nauseated by it that you never want to kiss me again? I don’t wanna – I don’t want to mess it up.”

You try to decipher the speech, fogginess entering your brain as you focus on the shadows dancing across his skin.

“It’s a chance you have to take,” a smile on the tip of your words, “I did say I would help you get your first kiss out of the way.”

He struggles for breath, “Does that mean the offer still stands… to happen right now?”

You inch across the seats, in the middle now and loving how Stiles was having such a visible reaction. He goes rigid, his mouth open and eyes turning desperate. He looks scared and wanting. It looks conflicting… and hot.

“If you really want a lesson right now.” You whisper it like a newfound secret, “Only if you want to.”

“If I want to?” he sounds disbelieving, “Of course I… I mean, I don’t think I could ever say no to you, (Y/N).”

Something blossoms in your chest and it’s warm and addictive, you chase after it – prompting you to get closer, “C’mere,” you say gently and smile at how responsive Stiles is. He moves forward like a puppy searching for a treat.

You raise a hand and pause right before touching his cheek, “You sure?”

“Positive,” he says immediately, nearly leaning into your hovering hand.

You smile, touching his face and winding your hand to under his ear, your thumb in the perfect position to rub along his cheekbone. His eyes flutter close and an inaudible sigh escapes his open mouth. With the tips of your fingers reaching the back of his neck, you pull his face closer to yours. You position him at a slight angle, and he responds to your direction instantly.

He opens his eyes to find your noses nearly touching. You’re both breathing shallow, sharing the air between you, feeling it breeze and dry against your lips. He smells like candy.

And you… you smell like orange cream and peachy sugar.

“Put one hand here,” you direct his hand to your waist. Your heads stay close, gazes flickering between eyes and lips. “And another here,” you put his other to the side of your neck. His hands are so large – his fingers so long – you feel them shake as they engulf the space between your neck and shoulder. His thumb rests on your jawline while the side of his pinky sits on your collarbone. “Do what feels natural,” you whisper. “It’ll come to you.”

One hand shakes on your waist, testing a light pressure while his other hand rests very warm against the side of your neck, afraid to move.

You tilt your head to match his and find his dark honey eyes illuminated by the park streetlamps. They were still slanted in nervous desperation. He didn’t dare move, but you can tell he wants to – wants to badly.

“Close your eyes,” you say quietly, and your lips barely brush against his as you speak.

His lids close instantly – he is so pliable under your hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, nervously twitching his fingers against your skin.

You smile, still looking at his eager expression as you brush your nose against his slightly upturned one. And then you slot your mouth on his bottom lip. You hold it there as he tenses, his hand gripping your waist suddenly – the other digging his fingertips in the soft skin of your neck.

You pull away a few inches and say, “There… you’ve had your first kiss.”

His lips search for you, leaning forward until his eyelids fly open, “What? That’s...” his throat bobs and he clenches his teeth so you see the muscle bulge on his jaw. “Any more things you can teach me?”

You lick your lips, giggles falling out of your mouth until he cracks a small smile. You put your forehead to his, smiling wide, “The night’s still young.” You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You need to relax. You’re super tense, mischief. I’m giving you permission to move your hands to whatever feels natural.”

At his quick question of hesitance, you continue, “I would tell you if anything made me uncomfortable. As long as you do too.”

He nods frantically, eager to go again with less nerves this time. Winding a hand to the back of his neck and into the short crop of his hair, you pull him towards your mouth. You kiss him softly but curiously.

You peck and move. Lip lock and switch sides. Press firmly and repeatedly. And slowly the tension falls from Stiles’ shoulders. He grips you with less anxiety and with more curiosity. A hand drags up your side, feeling the dip of your waist up to your ribcage and the line of your bra beneath your shirt. His hand drags down the same path, feeling all the same things before landing on your hips, thumb feeling the edge of your jeans.

His other hand finally relaxes, long fingers winding around your neck until his thumb is resting right on your artery. The pad of his thumb tickling under your jaw. He was being light and soft near your face, only using the pads of his fingers – while his other hand was searching with more pressure.

He was just going down to put his hand on your thigh to squeeze when your breathing hitches. He pulls away instantly, lips pinker than before and eyes wide with worry. His hands are off you in a second and you almost… almost… whine in protest.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

You take a calming breath, slumping your shoulders, “No, in fact you’re taking my advice beautifully. You relaxed and started exploring – that’s one of the best parts about kissing someone new.” You brush a few strands of hair behind your ear, made loose when Stiles moved his hand to the back of your neck.

“Then why did…”

“I…” it was your turn to be shy, “I liked when you gripped my leg.”

Stiles widens his eyes with wonder now, “I made you make that noise?”

“Like I said, you take advice beautifully… and it works.”

He smiles wide, his turn to laugh at your endearing shyness. “Can we keep going?”

You match his smile and reply by going in for more kisses. This time you cup both his cheeks between your hands and Stiles squeaks in surprise. Both his hands land on your thighs, squeezing them under his larger palms.

You take a sharp intake of breath instead of making a noise, and Stiles fucking smiles against your lips.

Your hands touch his abdomen, and he sucks in taut, probably never having been touched there before. You quickly move up to his chest to find the expanse of his pectorals. Like you expected, Stiles isn’t rippled with worked muscle, but there’s a kind of lanky natural muscle beneath his shirt. You trail your hands up past his collarbones and around his shoulders. With your arms there you can pull him even closer.

He has to move his hands to the small of your back to remove any more space between you. He’s able to press you into him from that position.

Your hands search for his shoulder blades, fingers applying pressure there. His fingers were spreading wide against your lower back, thumbs wrapping around your waist while his fingertips touch your spine.

Your lips still fall into an easy pattern of firmly pressed kisses, switching sides and from top lip to bottom lip. Some are quick and rapid, others are longer and deeply felt. Your noses brush and press into cheeks as you struggle for air at times.

“When can I…” he kisses you, “…move from your mouth?”

You smile, kiss him, smile again. “Whenever it feels like…” you kiss again, “…the right thing to do next.”

He hums deep in his throat, moving his hands up your spine beneath your shoulders. Then he moves his lips. He places two quick kisses along your jaw and lands on your neck, right beneath the bend in your jaw. Your head falls back as he leaves chaste kisses there.

“Is this good?”

You breathe with your chest pressed against his, “You see how my head fell back? That means I like it and I’m giving you more access.”

He makes another low sound and it sends tingles of pleasure down to your core.

You keep a hand on his shoulder, supporting yourself while the other hand scrapes against his head, short hair bristles tickling your palm. You love the sound it pulls out of him.

“Open your mouth a little more,” you say, “Bigger kisses.”

He responds eagerly, excited to see what the change will do to you. His mouth opens more, leaving big, wet kisses under your ear and down your neck. A shiver runs through you, making your shoulders tense a little.

Then your watch starts to blare with an alarm.

Stiles flies off you like he was killing you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he cries, backing away to assess you. “I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.”

You steady yourself by gripping the back of the chair, realizing too little too late that your breathlessness was catching up to you. Your heart was working overtime. You lift your free hand, eyes scrunched as it gets harder to force air into your lungs.

“God, shit…” Stiles mumbles, coming closer again. He puts one hand on your chest, over your sternum. And his other hand holds the side of your face, thumb resting at your temple. “You feel my hand? Do you see it moving with your breaths? You need to move your breaths to your belly – your belly should move with breaths, not your chest. Try to make my hand stop moving.”

You look at him with watering eyes, your heart beating erratically in your ears. Stiles was counting the seconds until you start belly breathing – breathing with your diaphragm.

“There you go, that’s better.”

You slump into his neck and his hand wraps to the back of your head, the other to your back.

“That was unexpected,” you say quietly, lips tickling his neck.

He laughs, “I’m guessing you liked the other kisses more than the grabbing the thigh thing?”

“Maybe just a tad bit,” you say, “I told you I liked it beforehand.”

“You did,” he says, pulling you back to get a good look at your face. “You’re okay.”

You smile, “I’m okay.”

He starts to get this giddy look, “We kissed.”

“That we did.”

“Like a lot.”

“It was a lesson in many things.”

He screws up his lips, “And you liked it.”

“You take direction well.”

“I don’t know why guys don’t ask more,” he marvels, “It would make every makeout exactly what you want.”

“You are a rare breed,” you bite your lip and his eyes dart to look. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it.”

His quick answer pulled a laugh out of you. And once you start, you can’t stop. Stiles finds it cute and finds himself laughing too. Just two friends giggling in the car after an impromptu round of kissing. It was warm and light and felt… good.

“I don’t think you need to worry about messing things up with the next girl,” you say, scooting back to your side of the car, “You’ll do just fine.”

His laughing stops abruptly. “The next girl?”

“Yeah…?” you smile with a furrowed brow. “You wanted to learn to be a good kisser, right? To have your first kiss out of the way for any future girls?”

He looks put out, slightly angry, and… defeated. “Right, we had that pact.”

“Right,” you say, wondering what was miscommunicated between you two. “Maybe we should… head home for the night.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, looking for his keys, “Andrew will probably be sending you a goodnight text any second now.”

You scrunch your brow, lips resting in a frown as he turns the jeep on. You’re quick to notice the steamy windows from your hot and heavy kissing. You would’ve laughed at it if you didn’t feel like something was off in Stiles.

With the air conditioning and heater broken, you roll down the windows and Stiles tells you to stay in the car as he wipes down all others outside.

You watch him with a finger between your teeth. Did you just mess up?

~~~

You spend the next couple days trying to convince yourself that kissing Stiles was simply practice kissing. There wasn’t anything past friendly feelings between you two. It was a no strings attached kind of makeout.

It had to be.

You didn’t have feelings for Stiles. You were going out with Andrew Wickstrom for gods sake.

And again you feel guilty. If you acknowledge any interest in Stiles, then kissing him was a betrayal to Andrew.

But it’s not like you were seriously dating Andrew.

But maybe to him you are.

You hadn’t found a reason to talk to Scott and Stiles outside your friendly conversations at school. Scott didn’t usually text you, but Stiles? If he couldn’t think of a good enough reason to climb the garden trellis, he would text you about the most random things.

Facts about honeybees, star wars memes, updates on a Dateline investigation you were following, werewolf puns, and links to things he thought would make you smile.

Recently? He hasn’t texted you at all. While he wasn’t avoiding you at school, he sure as hell was when you were home.

You are currently in the mall with Lydia and Allison, picking out dresses for the winter formal. All three of you are acting distant and suspicious of each other, which is not a good look for the pretty girls club.

Getting onto an escalator, you question Allison about her frequent absences.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says, “I just have a lot on my mind.”

You wonder if there’s been a recently discovered secret in her family – maybe like a kidnapped werewolf?

“But Jackson’s taking you to the formal,” you say, “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, just two recently broken up friends supporting each other by going to the school dance,” Allison says with smiling sarcasm. “And what dumb, roided-up jock did you say yes to?” she asks Lydia.

“Ben Manley,” Lydia sighs, “More of a himbo if you ask me, but he’ll look good in the pictures.” She drags you two towards the prom dress section, quick to pull dresses to try on. She’s four hangers in by the time you find one you like.

“Advice,” you say to Allison, “Do I care if my surgery scars show, or do I go with a collar that climbs up to my neck?” You hold up one deep blue dress that has a lower heart-shaped neckline and another soft purple dress with a small v-neck shape that stops just under the collarbone.

Allison considers for a second, “The blue is more flattering, and you’d look great in that color. I’d say screw whoever doesn’t like you for your scars. They’re the reminder that you’re still alive.”

“Damn, okay,” you smile, “I’m going to try the blue one on.” You fling the purple chiffon dress onto a mannequin display and head for the dressing rooms.

Lydia is there with a small pile of dresses she’s already said no to. You talk to her loudly between the dressing cubicles.

“How’s it looking?”

“The cream chrome one is promising,” she says, “Hey, are we hanging out after this? I’ve got a new foot soaker I want to try. We can do mani pedis before the dance.”

You shimmy into your blue gown, loving how it flairs at your waist in beautiful night sky sparkles. “Yeah, I’d love a sleepover! It’ll be the perfect way to get ready for the dance.” There are two thick straps of the same dark blue fabric that go over your shoulders. The neckline falls lower in a heart shape, outlining the curve of your breasts and revealing your arms and chest.

The scar from your heart defect correction is less raised, less discolored, and less noticeable – but you see it run down the center of your chest. The small, three-inch incision scar from last summer is newer and still red and raised above your heart. And finally the four deep claw marks that dig around your left shoulder and arm – they leave actual divots in your flesh, and you can’t help running a finger over them. They went up and down like tiny rollercoasters.

“Get out here, Westbrook. I want to see if it’s a keeper.”

You take a deep breath, shaking your fingers through your hair to give it more volume. You step into the hallway and find Lydia in a shiny cream colored dress, complete with a black flower in her hair.

“You look amazing,” you say, smiling, “And the dress really shows off your legs. You gotta pair it with a heel.”

“I look amazing?” Lydia gawks, “Look at how flattering that one is on you! It doesn’t flair out like a ballgown, but enough to give you an airy look. And the top is stunning, it fits your figure well.” She doesn’t even mention the scars.

You grin, “I think that settles it. We’ve got our winners.” Lydia goes to change, and you agree to show Allison since she picked the dress for you.

You walk out barefoot, lifting your dress a little to give you easier access to walk faster. You find Allison holding a funny feathered dress to a mirror. It takes you a second to realize that she isn’t alone.

A man is there holding a silver dress to her figure. A man you recognize at a second glance.

It was Peter Hale, one of your long-term patients at the hospital – and the Alpha.

You run over, calling for Allison’s attention, “What do you think?”

She looks grateful to be rescued, “Absolutely beautiful, (Y/N). That’s the one for sure.”

“(Y/N)?” Peter says, “Ah, yes – you look stunning.” He goes to shake your hand, “Peter.”

You hesitate. He’s playing the ‘never-met-you-before’ coverup. “I think I’ve seen you before. Maybe… at the hospital? That’s where I work.”

He has a clever smirk on his face as he retracts his hand, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Somewhere else maybe…” you stare him down. “Like the local video store perhaps.”

“Never been much into movies,” but he does look at your exposed skin to admire his handywork to your shoulder, “You’ve got quite the collection there.” He smiles, “Wearing them like badges of honor.”

“Like a friend said,” you say, chin held high. “They’re a reminder that I’m still alive.”

He still has that subtle smirk, otherwise very rigid and unsettling, “Yes, you are.” He sounds like he would add, ‘not for long’ to the end of that.

The PA system comes on and a fuzzy woman’s voice says, “Attention, shoppers. The owner of a blue Mazda, your car is being towed.”

“What?” Allison says, “That’s my car!” She runs to find the front desk or the car outside.

You’re left with Peter, barefoot and in a pretty starry dress. He looks to you with a plain expression that held sinister notions regardless.

“Well played,” he mutters, “Scott.” You don’t dare look away from him as he talks to the thin air. “Just remember… you can’t be everywhere all the time.” He looks to you with roaming eyes, “It’s been nice seeing you, (Y/N). I’m glad you like my addition to your complexion so much. It makes me think you may want more to add to this masterpiece.”

You hate the way he stays there to gauge your reaction. You stand firm, but your fingers dig into the fabric of your dress.

“You really do look stunning in that dress,” he smiles, “It’d be a shame if it got shredded.” He walks away, leaving you feeling strangely violated and targeted. You feel angry and unsafe.

Scott was at your side in seconds, grabbing your arms, “(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

You take a shaky breath, “He’s a persistent bastard.”

“Yeah, and he’s just threatened to attack you – probably at the dance judging by how he complimented your dress.” He stands straight, listening for Lydia or Allison. “Listen, I heard how you’re having a sleepover tonight. That’d leave me free to…”

“I’ll look after the girls,” you smile, still cold and shaky from the encounter. “You look after your mom and the boys.”

He gives you a look, clearing his throat, “Right, course.”

You squint your brow, “What has Stiles told you?”

Scott scratches at his head, looking anywhere but you, “Nothing much, he’s been quiet these days.”

“Impossible,” you snort, “You may be a super cool teenage werewolf, Scott – but you are a terrible liar.”

He looks defeated, “Look, he told me how you guys kissed and he’s… he’s kind of hung up on it.”

“In what way?”

He bites his lip, looking painfully awkward, “He doesn’t want you thinking it was a mistake. He’s… scared you regret it.” Scott shoves his hands in his pockets, “He realizes it might be weird trying to be friends, and you with Andrew… he’s trying to keep the friendship civil.”

“Civil?” you scoff, “It was a no feelings kiss.”

Scott keeps his mouth shut, nodding his head and backing away, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

Your mouth is left hanging open as he walks away. Did you feel regret for the kissing? You put one hand on the silken fabric covering your hip, the other hand going to rub away the worry lines in your forehead.

Did you feel guilty because you had been going on dates with Andrew? Had you ever set clear expectations with Andrew before? If he felt like this was taking a direction into serious relationship territory, you would definitely feel guilty.

And Stiles not being completely himself…? Was that really because he was worried you thought the kiss was a mistake? Or was it because of some other unknown reason.

Returning to the dressing rooms, you knew one thing was for sure. You were in desperate need of a girls night.

~~~

In the second story living room of the Martin house, you three spend hours into the night pampering yourselves and raving about whatever came to mind.

When Harry Met Sally plays quietly on the tv in front of you, Allison leaning onto the couch and painting her toes a white color.

“I hope I don’t smudge these before they dry.”

“Here’s a fast drying topcoat you can put on them,” Lydia tosses a small clear polish. She was stuck in the armchair beside the couch with her feet bubbling in the new foot soaker. “I think I’m going to go with black for my toes. Maybe black French tips with my fingernails.” She admires her hands as you place the black polish bottle near her for later use.

You sit between the two, your toes drying an inky blue color while you prepare to paint your nails. You unscrew a pretty sapphire blue. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Please,” Lydia pouts, leaning back in her chair.

“Do you consider Andrew and I in a serious relationship?”

Allison frowns, focusing on her brush strokes, “Um… maybe? You guys have been dating exclusively, right?”

“Only two dates.”

“No,” Lydia clicks her tongue, “You guys have had two dates and a few noncommittal kisses. I don’t think that means you’re dating seriously.”

Allison dips her brush again, “But if you’re not seeing anyone else then people will think you’re exclusive.”

“But what if I have seen someone else,” you shrug, “I guess that doesn’t matter if Andrew thinks something different.”

There was a splash, “Hold the phone. Are you saying you’ve gone out with someone else recently?”

You pull an indecisive face, “Well, no – just maybe had a… makeout.”

Allison gasps while Lydia giggles, “Oh my god, with who?!”

“I don’t know if I want to talk about it yet.”

“Well, if you’re kissing other boys then you definitely don’t think you’re seriously dating,” Allison shakes her head, “Does Andrew?”

Your shoulders tense as you focus on your nails, “I don’t know. We never had a ‘what are we’ talk. And I never told him I didn’t want anything serious.”

“Ouch,” Allison grimaces, “I think he really likes you.”

Lydia has her arms folded tightly, “Was it Josh Arnett?”

“Gross,” you accuse, “Absolutely not.”

“Tanner Humphries?”

“No, Lydia,” you huff, “What do I tell Andrew?”

Allison stretches her legs out and wiggles her newly painted toes, “You tell him the truth. At least, you tell him you don’t want anything serious.”

“I bet it was Lucas McCrary,” Lydia muses.

“Should I do that before the dance?” you ignore Lydia. “I think it’ll hurt him.”

Allison fishes in the bucket of self-care on the couch cushion, “It’s better than leading him on further.” She extracts an avocado sheet mask.

“Was it at least someone on the lacrosse team?” Lydia interjects.

You give a tired smile, “Because those are the only boys you know?”

“The only boys I care about.”

You finish one hand and ask Allison to help with the other, “What if Andrew decides he doesn’t want to take me to the dance anymore?”

“Then…” Allison takes the sapphire blue from you, “You go stag and hangout with us. I have a suspicion that Jackson isn’t going to be the most enjoyable date.”

“Oh! Please tell me it was Tyler O’Connell – no girl can get her hands on him.”

You laugh and faceplant into the couch, “Tyler O’Connell is gay. Danny has had a little crush on him for months.”

“Huh,” she huffs, “I’m usually good at catching those things.”

“I think I’ll talk to him after school tomorrow,” you rub your worry lines with your free hand. “If anything Allison, you and I could just be each other’s dates.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be abandoned by the end of the night with how Jackson’s been acting,” she sighs, doing a second coat on your nails. “I wouldn’t mind a sweethearts dance with you.”

Lydia is having an existential crisis in the armchair, confined with her feet in the soaker. “Well, it can’t be Cameron Sanchez because he’s going with that Brittany girl in homeroom. It’s not Henry, is it?”

“What’s with the tone?” you giggle, “I like Henry Greenburg even if Coach is a little harsh with him.”

“What about…” she widens her eyes, “What about dork #2?”

Allison freezes with the paintbrush still on your nail. You take a moment to decipher what Lydia just asked.

“Who is…” you clamp your mouth into a thin line.

“Oh my god!” Lydia stands with her feet still in the soaker.

Allison flinches, “Holy shit.” She looks at your nails, “Oh, shit – I’m sorry, (Y/N).” She takes a cotton swab to fix the smudge of blue going down your ring finger. “I just… I mean…”

“What was that dorks name?” Lydia squeals, waving her hands frantically and snapping at Allison. “He’s – god, what’s his name!” She looks ridiculous being rooted to one spot but moving her upper torso like a madwoman, “He’s the little weirdo… the idiot in love!”

Your face is positively blooming red, it’s scorching, as you bury your face in a couch pillow. Allison is quick to correct her mistake to your nails, replying in a much calmer and heartwarming voice. “Stiles Stilinski.”

“Stiles!” Lydia cries in triumph before frowning, “That’s his name?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “Yes, Stiles. And it was another noncommittal kiss. It was absolutely no feelings. I was just helping him out.” In your embarrassment you slap your free hand to cover your mouth, “God, don’t ask me why,” you mumble.

Allison waits for Lydia to ask – like she knew she would.

“Why?” Lydia says, still standing in the foot soaker.

“It doesn’t matter,” you pat at your flaming hot cheeks, “What matters is that I did kiss him, and I need to clarify with Andrew that I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“I knew he was going to grow on you,” Allison mumbles with a sweet smile on her face. She finishes doing your nails and sits back on the couch. “He’s been obsessed with you for months now.”

You shake your head, “Stiles is just… very enthusiastic. He was just excited about getting a kiss.”

“From you,” Allison smirks.

Lydia is jumping out of the foot soaker and toweling her feet, “At least he’s on the lacrosse team.”

You blow out a breath and hope it calms the redness in your face. “It’s not like that. He’s…” you hesitate. “He’s a good friend.”

Allison grimaces, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

~~~

You wring your hands as you pace at the end of the hall, next to the vending machines. You wait for Andrew to leave his last class, the bell having just rung. It was eating at you thinking of a way to talk to him without hurting his feelings.

But there was no way around it – even if the dance was in two days, you weren’t going to continue playing with Andrew’s feelings.

The tall, dimpled boy comes out and sees you instantly. He smiles and jogs to reach you, excited to see you waiting.

Shit.

“Hey,” he gives you a hug and a kiss to the cheek, “How are you?”

You swallow hard, “I wanted to talk to you about something.” You pick and pull at your fingers, looking up at him with a face that scares him.

He furrows his brow, nodding his head toward the empty ceramics classroom. There weren’t any art classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “Then let’s go talk.” He guides the way and opens the door for you.

You have a terrible guilty feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had to let someone down before.

Among the desks with spinning wheels dusted with dry clay, you stand in the middle of the room. “Andrew… I wanted to ask what you see between us… for the future.”

He still looks skeptical, but there’s a smile enveloping his face. “Well, I’ve liked how our dates have been so far. And I really like you, (Y/N).” His dimples are out full force, shadowed by the dim lighting. “I want to see where this goes. I think we could get serious. I’m – I’m looking for something serious. But… I want to hear what you have to say first.”

You pinch your fingertips, “Um… well I’m glad we’re having this talk.” You swallow thickly and the smile on Andrew’s face dips. “I… I’m not looking for something serious.”

“Oh,” Andrew says dryly. His face is in full shadow now. “I see, uh… have you always felt that way?”

You nod while you try to find your voice again. The look of hurt on his face was making the guilt in your stomach flare tenfold. “I don’t want a boyfriend in high school.”

He nods slower, looking to the ground. “I wish I knew that sooner.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I should’ve been more clear in the beginning. I thought we were just having some fun.”

“Fun,” he laughs sardonically. “No, I should’ve been more honest with what I was looking for.” His eyes were sad, but he put a smile on his face. “I’m glad you told me.”

You nod, desperate for his words. “I totally understand not wanting to see each other anymore…”

“That would probably be for the best,” he runs a hand through his curly hair.

“And… and we can go separately to the dance,” you say quickly, “I don’t mind.”

He looks at you with slight concern, “I don’t want you to go alone.”

“I have some friends I can go with.”

The room feels smaller, colder than you remember. It was an awful feeling telling someone you don’t like them in that way. You did not like hurting people.

Andrew was nodding to himself in agreement, “Then I hope you have a good time with your friends.”

He was being so kind to you when you felt you didn’t deserve it. It was your fault he was sad. Your fault that he didn’t have a date for the dance. Your fault that his feelings were being hurt now.

A stinging was building behind your eyes. “Thank you. I hope you do find someone to be serious with. You deserve it.” A lump builds in your throat, “You’re a good guy, Andrew.”

He sighs deeply, “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Sure,” you say quietly, voice being overtaken by emotion. And you’re left in the dark, cold room. Guilt eating at you and shame whispering terrible things in your ear. You almost wish he had blown up about it; yelled at you for not being completely honest in the beginning. It hurt worse hearing his quiet acceptance of the rejection.

You’re grateful the classroom is abandoned when a tear falls from your eye.

~~~

“Why didn’t you stop by Lydia’s house?” Stiles accuses, arms in the air, “That was prime time to overhear girl talk!”

“I wasn’t going to spy and eavesdrop,” Scott scolds, leading the way out of their last class of the day. “That wouldn’t be right when I still need to keep you and Jackson safe.”

Stiles rubs harshly at his face, silly noises of outrage spilling out, “But how else am I going to hear how (Y/N) feels about the whole jeep-makeout thing?!”

“I don’t know, talk to her?” Scott deadpans.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles scoffs, “I’m such an idiot. How else is she supposed to feel about it? She told me she doesn’t date seriously, and she told you how it happened with no feelings…” A white hot pain stabs his sternum, his heart roiling excruciatingly. “I just… I wanted it to be real.”

Scott sighs, pulling at his too long hair, “Listen, if she is seeing you in a friends with benefits kind of way, I don’t see why you can’t give it a shot.”

For a few moments Stiles dwells on the thought of having all the benefits of a relationship without commitment. It was tempting but... “I want more than that.”

“Wow,” Scott raises his eyebrows, “I’ve never heard such mature words leave your mouth before.”

“Shut up,” Stiles groans, “I just wish she’d talk to me!” He goes for one of the back doors by the vending machines, “She does this thing where she tells me the truth without the whole truth.”

“You mean with her heart?”

Stiles rubs hard at his eyes, “It’s got to be the reason for everything. I tried to get my dad to tell me about it and he pulled the ‘doctor-patient-confidentiality’ thing on me.” He grumbles, letting his backpack drop from his shoulders, “I’ve never… I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on like this.”

Scott sits on a hallway bench, watching his friend wallow in his self-pity and broken heart. “It starts out that way. But it gets easier.”

“What do you know about unrequited love, genius?” Stiles puts his hands on his hips, “You got to be Allison’s boyfriend with the dating and the kissing and the feeling her up…”

“Watch your mouth,” Scott points a finger.

Stiles slumps to the floor and against the stone wall. “And now we’re all targets in a major werewolf operation. How do you think the dance is going to go?”

“I don’t know. I’m still going to be there,” Scott says with a sad smile, “Even if Coach is up my ass.” He stands from the bench, “I should probably find a suit before my shift at the vet clinic.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbles, lifting a few fingers in a goodbye, “I’m gonna grab a snack before I go – see you later.”

It took another minute before Stiles could get off the ground. Thoughts of you swirling permanently there. The feel of your warm, soft skin. The pressure of your lips on his. The thrill of hearing you react to the things he was doing. He could still smell the sweet fruity scent of your hair, your lips sticky sweet with sugar.

Had it all been a dream? You sure acted like it with how the whole night was yet to be a topic of conversation.

But the feel of you, as dreamlike as it had been, was grounded in his mind like a chain to a wall. He would never forget how your head fell back, how your fingers went through his hair, how your lips fit so well between his own. Fit like a puzzle piece.

He thought that the kiss would lessen his ache of unrequited love – that he would have at least gotten a taste. But sitting there with the deep ache beating a little stronger in his chest – he knew it was going to be even more painful to be around you and not spout what he was feeling.

Like he told Scott, he wanted more. It was more than the sugar left on your lips. It was the way his dad smiled at the homecooked meal. The way he felt he could mention his mom around you. The fact that you were the first girl he could be alone with and not feel completely at a loss.

He rubs his forehead again, standing as though lead was in his stomach. He felt nauseous. It was making him sick how much he wanted you.

Then an empty classroom door swings open and Andrew Wickstrom walks out, head down and expression bleak.

He walks right out the back doors into the late afternoon light. And the slump in his shoulders made Stiles curious. All thoughts of a snack out of his mind, he stands, abandoning his backpack, and inches toward the empty classroom.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but seeing you standing there, holding yourself as tears fell from your eyes was not it.

The deep ache in his chest pulses like it yearns for you. Having you in his vision was enough to make the roiling in his heart pucker with hope. But the lead in his stomach becomes heavier as he pushes the door open.

“(Y/N)?”

You snap your wet eyes to him, “Stiles, what are you doing here?”

He continues to inch forward, eyes never leaving your face, “I was just going to stop by the vending machines before heading out.” He stops a few feet from you, “What happened?”

You sniff, wiping at your eyes that just continue to stream. “I told Andrew I don’t want anything serious.” Your brow is furrowed into permanent lines, face screwed up like it’ll stop whatever emotion is trying to get out. “And he was pretty hurt by it.”

Stiles takes another step forward, fingers twitching at his sides. Was it okay to touch you? “Andrew doesn’t seem like the type to get real upset by a breakup.”

“He was being so kind to me,” you hiccup as you continue to hold back, “And I was hurting him.”

“But you were being honest, which is better than leading him on,” Stiles says quietly. He’s now just a foot away from you.

“I’ve never had to turn someone away like that,” more tears were cascading down your face, much to your chagrin, “It did not feel good.”

Stiles lifts one of his hands, meaning to touch your shoulder, but you accept it as an invitation for a hug. He almost sighs in relief and wraps his arms around you tightly, keeping you pressed to him like it would staunch the ache in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your strawberry scented hair, “If it had to be with anyone, though – I’m glad that it was Wickstrom. He is a good guy.”

You sigh and it stutters with emotion, “It’s all my fault.” You nuzzle into his shoulder, “If I was braver I would’ve kept it going.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles was holding your waist with one hand and rubbing up and down your spine with the other.

“If I was braver, I’d get into a relationship.” You let the tears run from your cheeks and soak into Stiles’ shirt. “I’m a coward.”

Stiles runs his fingers down your back in a soothing motion, “It’s okay not to be ready for a relationship.”

“That’s not it,” you pull away, wiping at the tears making your skin itch. “I’m sorry, I’m talking nonsense.”

“No! No, wait…” Stiles was getting desperate, “You don’t have to stop there. (Y/N), I want to know what’s wrong. I want to know why. Please don’t brush it off like it’s nothing – I can see how it bothers you.”

You shake your head, trying to swallow past the lump in your throat. “Trust me, this is not the time and place for that conversation.”

Stiles pinches his lips together, finding it more difficult to be patient. “What could be so terrible that you avoid it this badly?”

There’s a heavy silence and you open your mouth like you’re about to say something. He can see it on the tip of your tongue, eyes shiny and cheeks raw. It looks painful for you to say it out loud. He feels instant regret for trying to force it out of you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, walking over to pull you into a quick, but firm, apology hug. “I’m sorry, I just want to help. I hate seeing you like this.”

You gulp, “I… I think I’ll be able to tell you soon. I just… right now with… it’s not the right time.”

He nods quickly, “I get it.” He puts some space between you, watching your face carefully, ready to catch you should your heart give out. He puts a thumb between your brows and wiggles it around like it’ll ease the tension enough to remove the lines of worry.

You melt a little, a smile curling the sides of your mouth, “I’m sorry you walked in on that.”

He shrugs, “I’m not sorry at all.”

You take a deep breath, remembering to fill your belly with it and not your chest. “I guess I’m going to the dance without a date now.”

There’s a leap in his chest and Stiles wonders if his heart was the one about to give out. “I can take you!” he says before you even finish your sentence.

You smile wide this time, “I probably shouldn’t go with another boy after just breaking things off with Andrew. I am going with Allison and Lydia, though.”

His leaping heart crash lands, “Sure, right – that makes sense.” He’s grateful for the dimly lit classroom keeping his embarrassment blush in shadow. “I’ll still be there though, for a dance or two.”

“I’d like that,” you grin, eyes bright but no longer tear-filled. “Could I get a ride?”

“Always.”

~~~

Melissa trades patient files with you at the newly refurbished nurses station. You exchange some words of note about certain patients on the floor. She reminds you to drink more water and you remind her to take a break.

She smiles at your avoidance, “How are the dance preparations going?”

You show her the shiny blue nail polish on your fingers.

She squeals and admires them, “Ah, I miss dances. And the dress?”

“Like starlight,” you breathe, taking a twirl around the hall, “But with flats because I am not venturing into battle in four-inch heels.”

Melissa sighs, “Dances are so much more fun with girls. Scott refuses to show me his suit and he’s never home anymore.” She leans against the counter, “I hope he’s okay.”

You give a thin smile, “He’s doing his best. With Allison and lacrosse and his grades… he’s doing his best. Trying to do more than that actually.”

“He expects a lot of himself,” Melissa nods. “I’m glad he has friends like you with him.” She checks her watch when she asks, “And the Andrew thing?”

“Over,” you shrug, a day after the breakup and still a little tender. “We wanted different things, and I thought it best not to drag it out.”

“Man, better than just ghosting him,” she says with a bitter tone, “How mature of you.”

You remember the terrible date she went on with Peter Hale. Jackass. “It was the right thing to do. And I’ll just save a few dances for my friends. It’ll still be a nice night.” You sit in a swivel chair, arms folded, “There’s no way I’m going to miss my chance to go to a school dance.”

Melissa gives you a soft, sad smile, “Well, kiddo – I’m off to make my rounds. Mr. Hendrickson has been calling my button for the last ten minutes. I swear I’m going to take his tv away if he keeps asking me how to change the channels.”

You laugh, saluting her off, and returning to the rest of your charting. You were just marking when you administered medications when a soft tap to your counter caught your attention.

Standing there was Scott and Stiles.

“Hello,” you say cheerfully, “How are my boys?”

Both lift their hands to reveal brown paper bags. Scott grins, “We might’ve brought you guys dinner?”

“Greasy takeout,” Stiles corrects, “But edible enough for dinner.”

You sigh, heart warmed, “Well, your mom just went into room 18 down the hall,” you point, “But we can take our break when she gets back.”

“No, I’ll wait for her,” Scott says quickly, already down the hall, “We’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Stiles shrugs at your look of suspicion, “Where do you usually eat?”

You lead Stiles from the elevators to the hospital cafeteria. There you find a round table by the windows to sit. It was dark outside with the perfect view of the moon over the mountains. Stiles seems a little uncomfortable as he follows you through the building.

He keeps looking behind his shoulder and peering into patient rooms with big eyes.

“Burgers and fries?” you ask hopefully.

Stiles lays the meal out on grease stained napkins, “Bon Appetit.”

You lean into him, “Thank you, I wasn’t planning on dinner tonight.” You start with your fries as he looks at you with contempt.

“Because that’s a great idea with your prone to fainting condition.”

“Why did you guys really stop by?” you always start with your fries, saving the main meal for last. You focus on them as Stiles thinks of something to say, eating his hamburger like it was his first meal in days.

He gives a funny half shrug, “Scott needed to check on his mom with his whole ‘patrolling-the-pack’ schedule. He asked if I wanted to come, and we came up with the excuse of getting us all dinner.”

“Brilliant,” you say, finding that the drink he brought was filled with your favorite soda. “Any news from the Alpha?”

“Not since you guys went dress shopping,” he wipes at his mouth with his sleeve. “Which, by the way, I would’ve loved to come to.”

“No you wouldn’t of,” you laugh, “Helping girls carry their dresses and waiting forever to critique every outfit with the same indifferent words… sounds terribly boring.”

He takes a deep breath as he downs his drink. “Sounds like fun. Helping you pick out a dress? I’d run out the red carpet so you could practice your model walk. We’d play montage music with different colored lights. We can make trying on dresses fun.”

“I don’t know how to model walk,” you giggle.

He nods in mock seriousness, “You just have to look like you’re about to sneeze and the thing you’re wearing is giving you a massive wedgie.” He moves his shoulders around in a pretend walking motion, his face slightly pinched like his nose was itching.

You were laughing by the time he coached you into making the same ridiculous face. Then he flinched when a group of resident doctors walked in loudly, ready for their dinner. He looks uncomfortable again, picking at his fries half-heartedly.

You consider him for a minute, “You don’t like hospitals, do you?”

He huffs a laugh, “What gave you that idea?”

“You’re being more twitchy than usual.”

He eyes you, “I’ve been here plenty of times, you haven’t made that observation before.”

“You’re really thinking about it today,” you press, “Is something wrong?”

He ticks his jaw, playing with his fries. “I used to eat in here a lot… when my mom was here.”

Your chest goes tight. Of course it has something to do with his mom, “Stiles, I’m…”

“My dad used to leave me here when he went to work,” he keeps going, “The nurses were all my friends, and I ate dinner in the cafeteria all the time. They would save an extra chocolate pudding for me sometimes.” He smiles in painful fondness, “I was alone when… when she…”

He couldn’t say it.

You scooch closer to him, letting him talk without you interrogating him. He looks at your eager expression with a soft smile, “She had frontotemporal dementia.” He leans closer to you subconsciously, enjoying the security he felt near you.

“It started with little things like she couldn’t pick up her keys and she wouldn’t sleep at night. Then she couldn’t function at her job, so she stayed home. Then she started to get… scary.” He takes a deep swallow, “She started seeing things – hallucinations – and became paranoid sometimes. We had to hospitalize her soon after that.”

You knew the symptoms of frontotemporal dementia. Some of the long-term patients at the hospital had dementia. But you let him continue to talk without your input. You could guess that he didn’t talk about his mom very often, especially her death.

You put a hand on his arm as silent support.

He takes a breath at your touch, “When I’d visit, I didn’t know if I’d see my mom or the patient dealing with dementia.” His eyes look a little glassy as he continues, “It was hard spending so much time here. I knew she wasn’t going to come home. And then one night when my dad was on call… it was just me at her bedside.”

You rub your thumb into his forearm, “How old were you?”

“Eight,” he says, sniffling as the emotion burns his throat. “Seeing her deteriorate that fast… it was awful.” His lip trembles, “That was my mom, you know?”

You move your arm around his back, resting your head on his shoulder. It was a hug you could give while sitting at a table. “I know.” You squeeze him tight, “It must’ve been horrible.”

His breathing was shaky, “It was,” he rubs roughly at his eyes, “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Not even Derek Hale.”

“What about Mr. Harris?”

He makes a considering face, a smile curling his lips. “Maybe.”

You pinch him, “That’s terrible.” You trail your fingers across his back, looking for more tears, “Why tell me?”

He watches you wipe away a tear before it reaches his chin, “Because I wanted you to know.” He shrugs, eyes a little redder, “I like you, and I trust you.”

You watch him with rosy cheeks. An immense feeling of pride was swelling in your chest. Stiles chose you, out of dozens of people, to talk about the death of his mom. A horribly sensitive subject for him. He had gone out of his way to be in an environment that reminded him of uncomfortable things to bring you dinner. He opened up to you and gave you a large part of his heart.

He was doing it partially to tell you things he wanted you to know – things you needed to know to be close to him – but also to partially tell you that it was okay to open up about horribly sensitive stuff.

He wanted to hear your story too.

But how could you now? You feel a pang in your chest. How could you explain to Stiles that you would reach a similar end before too long. An end like his moms.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912 @iloveyou2mia @everrrsincenewyork @gisellesprettylies @dullypully @taylordaughter @greenoliveslover

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #okayjhannah #fandomfantasia

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chloe-skywalker · 8 months ago

Text

Not My Decision - Stiles Stilinski

Stiles x reader sister

Derek x reader-ish

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,085

Requested: TW imagine the reader is Stiles sister and u get into an accident and Derek turns u into a wolf and Stiles goes against ur wishes and u get pissed at him for doing so and Peter actually takes care of u - @cokecola4211

Authors Note: I enjoyed the concept behind this request, it was ajoy to write. Maybe a Part 2?

Masterlist

Teen Wolf Masterlist

******************************************************************

“Help!” Stiles yelled out carrying Y/n into the hospital. She was covered in blood and therefore so was Stiles.

“Stiles what happened?” Melissa asked as she called a team over with a gurney.

“Just please help her.” Stiles pleaded as he placed her on the rolling hospital bed. He had to watch as they rushed into emergency surgery. Scott had come running in after he had parked the Jeep for his friend. They Both sat down in the waiting room. It didn’t take long for the others to hear about what happened and soon pretty much the entire pack were in the waiting room.

Melissa came out a few hours later with a sad expression. “She’s stable for now.”

“For now?” Stiles asked with extremely worried eyes.

“I don’t know how long she’ll stay stable for.” She hated having to tell Stiles that his sister was basically dieing. Two kids she’s known their whole lives and practically considered her own at times.

“Mom?” Scott stood up with eyes that begged his mom to not say what he thought she was going to say.

“Its not looking good, hunny. I’m sorry. We should probably call your dad, Stiles.” Melissa bit her lip in solace that they’d probably all have to say goodbye.

“What if I could help? The bite.” Derek spoke up, he was very close to the female Stilinski. They were really good friends and if he was being honest he had a bit of a crush on her. Maybe he could save her.

“No. That could still kill her.” Scottt shook his head protesting, not liking the idea at all.

Derek shrugged his shoulders, trying not to show how much the possibility of Y/n dying affected him. “I’m just suggesting. It would be better to try then do nothing and lose her anyway.”

“That’s not what she would want.” Scott argued back. Truthfully he didn’t know if Y/n would want it or not but she would make comments about how it'd be hard being one would make life. Wasn’t that enough? “Stiles, you know that.”

“Do it.” Stiles didn’t care at the moment what anyone thought. He just couldn’t lose his sister.

“Stiles-”

“No Scott.” Stiles turned his head to look at his best friend. Stiles glanced down for a second before he continued. “I know it’s not what she’d want but I don’t have a choice. We don’t have a choice. Plus she trust’s Derek…”

Stiles knew Y/n probably wouldn’t want the bite, not without real thought put into it. But there was more of a chance for her to live. If they don’t do it, she dies. If Derek at least tries she might live.

“We have to try. I can’t lose my sister, Scott.” Stiles pleaded with his eyes.

“If the bite doesn’t take, then we still lose Y/n, Stiles.” Scott tried one last time, but truth be told Scott did think it was worth a shot. Y/n was like a little sister to him, he didn’t want to see her die either.

“At least we tried, because Scott we’re gonna lose her anyway if we don’t.” Stiles stated before turning his attention back to Derek. With a nod he stated. “Do it.”

“Follow me.” Melissa nodded at Derek and he followed her.

It was around 45 minutes before they came back out of the room. This time their faces looked more relieved.

“She's stable and improving.” Melissa smiled, happy to be sharing good news.

“The bite worked?” Lydia questioned the older wolf. Hoping she didn’t have to bury another friend.

Derek nodded with relieved eyes. “It worked. I can sense it. Feel it.”

After all, she was his beta now.

“Good. Good.” Stiles nodded, running his hands through his hair.

“You know she might be pissed.” Lydia looked to Stiles with a knowing look.

“Oh she’s going to be pissed.” Peter stated tauntingly, although he too was glad the girl was going to live. She didn’t treat him like the others.

“Then at least I made the decision that saved her life.” Stiles knew he made the right decision. But he really just hoped she would eventually forgive him.

Eventually everyone went home to get some sleep. Derek stayed and eventually Mr.Stilinski showed up. He showed up just in time when Y/n woke up. He was in there for a while before he asked Derek to come into the room. Which really made Stiles nervous.

Derek left the room not long before their dad did. The two shook hands and Derek left the hospital. Stiles was finally told by his dad that he could go see his sister. For a while the two siblings just sat in silence. Till Y/n spoke up.

“I’m different now. You made that choice for me.” Y/n stated looking down at her hands placed on her lap.

“I didn’t have any other choice.” Stiles stated back. Y/n nodded in understanding and Stiles was grateful that she did. But he still had a bad feeling.

“I need a break Stiles.” Y/n said looking at him with eyes Stiles couldn’t dechirer.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, confused, now sitting up in his uncomfortable hospital chair.

“I’m going to stay with Peter and Derek for a while. I already talked to dad about it.” Y/n explained biting her lip. It wasn’t an easy decision for her to have made but she needed space right now, and she needed Derek to help her learn to control her new abilities. Peter too, oddly.

“Y/n-” Stiles tried to interject but Y/n shook her head.

“I need time to adjust Stiles. To get used to my new life, the changes to my body and mind.” Y/n told him hoping he’d get why she was doing this. Why she had to do this. Y/n loved her brother but this? She needed time. “I also need time to understand your choice for my future. To calm down and be able to control myself. I don’t want to get angry at you and hurt you. You're my brother, we’re closer than close Stiles. We alway have been. But right now, I’m afraid I’m gonna hurt you.”

“Ok” Stiles couldn’t say anything else. She was angry at him and was afraid she’d hurt him because of her anger. Anger at him for the choice he made for her. Even though she was pissed, she was still protecting him.

Taglist: @padawancat97

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mummybear · 1 year ago

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Chapter One - Unexpected Night

Words: 4079

Warnings: Swearing, Dirty Talk, Attempted Assault (Implied Sexual), Possessive Stiles, Protective Stiles, Grinding, Talk Of Marking, Protective Scott. Think that's it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Travis(OC)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski has always been your weakness, but since he was your brother's best friend you'd stayed away. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills fresh from his time in the FBI Academy something is very different about the boy you once knew.

A/N So hey guys! I know it's been a while hopefully this is the start of me getting back into my writing! We shall see. I really hope you guys enjoy this, any feedback is encouraged as always, and please let me know if you would like a tag as I update.

Chapter 1 - Unexpected Night

I can’t believe this goddamn party is still going on. I am far too drunk right now, I just want to sleep. However, as usual, my dumbass brother is too busy making out with his girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong, Allison is amazing, and I’m so happy for them. They had realised that they belonged together not long ago, after years of dating something happened. Scott didn’t explain it further than saying it was a wolf thing, that apparently I wouldn’t understand.

Mom always tells me never to go home by myself, however, right now I’m seriously considering it. I don’t even know why I came here tonight. It was stupid, they’re all his friends anyway, the great Scott McCall, I’m pretty sure people forget that I even exist. Not that I have any ill feelings towards him, he’s my brother, yes he might be a giant pain in the ass but all he’s ever done is protect me and look out for me.

If I’m honest with myself, I do know why I came here tonight, Stiles is here. He’s finally back from his FBI training, I hadn’t asked Scott too much about the situation, or how long he was back for. In fact I hadn’t even seen him yet.

Yes it’s one giant cliche. I have the world's biggest crush on my big brother’s best and oldest friend. I think I have since I was ten and Stiles was fourteen, I’ve been following them around for the better part of ten years. Before that I’d avoided them as much as possible. Then one day everything changed, as soon as I started hanging out with Scott and his friends, I finally felt like I fit in. I’m not sure what changed exactly, but whatever it was made it easier for me to become part of their group. Scott’s probably everything a big brother should be, and I know if he knew what I felt for Stiles he’d try and talk to me about it. Probably try and make me see what I’m already afraid of, that Stiles and I wouldn’t work.

Not really sure why I’m having these thoughts, probably has something to do with the fact that I’m drunk off my ass, in this random ass house. And while it may not be the best time for it, when I’ve been drinking my mind tends to wander.

After finally traipsing my way upstairs I find a bedroom, one that doesn’t really appear to belong to anyone, at least not permanently. Maybe it’s a spare room? People still have those, right? I close the door softly behind me. I’m unable to find a lock for the door, so I opt to just lay down for a minute or two, just to rest my eyes. I quickly climb up onto the bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I let out a sigh of relief, finally giving in. I close my eyes, hoping that both the room and my head will stop spinning at some point soon. I can hear some kind of arguing going on behind the door, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, it feels like they’re being weighed down, I hadn’t had a drink in such a long time, but I don’t remember it ever hitting me like this before.

Suddenly there’s the sound of the door crashing open, as it bounces hard against the wall, before it slams closed again. I wince, feeling a throbbing in my head suddenly and manage to wrench my eyes open. However, they snap all the way open in fear as soon as I register the big body standing in the corner of the room. I can feel eyes on me as a tense silence settles over the room. Clearly he knows I’m awake, but he’s yet to make a move.

A sudden sickness overtakes me, when I hear Stiles on the other side of the door, quieter, but still audible, shouting my name, or his nickname for me. Mini or Mini McCall was the go to name for me among most of Scott’s friends. He sounds worried as he calls for me, and my head is so foggy that I can’t concentrate on anything, I can’t even tell if I’m imagining Stiles calling for me, why would he want to find me? He hadn’t so much as texted me since he’d been home, much less tried to see me or speak to me in person. It was strange, almost like he was avoiding me, even Stiles’s dad hadn’t seen him yet.

I clear my throat, testing out if I can speak or not, but the nerves are clear in my every word. “W-Who are you?” I manage to stutter out, my throat a little sore and my voice a bit hoarse.

“Don’t you worry about it, Doll. Just close your eyes, don’t worry about anything, I'll take real good care of you. Go back to sleep,” there’s a clear threat in that deep voice, one that makes me shudder.

I quickly sit up, doing my best to ignore the way the entire room blurs and moves once again. As I try to back myself into a corner, trying to make myself as small as possible. I know it’s stupid, but I also know I don’t stand a chance in hell of standing up right now, I’m scared and drunk off my ass, feeling like a fucking idiot for isolating myself in a freaking bedroom of all places, I should’ve just found Scott, or even Lydia.

He smirks at me as starts to walk closer and I can finally see his face. I don’t recognise him, but that isn’t really a shock, he’s definitely older than me, not sure if he’s older than my brother though. A sickness coats my throat just seeing the look on his face, the sick twisted grin. The door hasn’t stopped rattling since he stepped inside, so I keep my gaze fastened to it.

I’m hoping for a miracle, however unlikely it might be. He closes in on me until I can no longer see the door behind him, because this guy's huge hulking frame is blocking my view of anything but him. On instinct I close my eyes and hold my legs tighter, and I finally let out a scream.

“Stiles!” The scream sounds helpless and terrified as it’s ripped from somewhere deep within me, which makes complete sense, given the current circumstances.

He reaches for me, I can feel his large moist palm as he grips my knee squeezing roughly, trying to pry my legs down or apart, with enough force to leave a bruise. But before he can get too far, the door smashes open against the wall once more, revealing a much more welcome intruder. My heart thuds even harder in my chest, because the guy releases me in surprise and whirls around on my saviour.

I see him then, Stiles Stilinski in the flesh. And what flesh it is, he’s put on muscle lately. Muscle that could rival even that of my big brother, the true Alpha. But this guy is huge and I can see Stiles gulp from across the room, but his eyes harden as the flick between me and the guy who still has his hand firmly gripping my knee.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off of her!” Stiles shouts, taking another step into the room.

“Nah. Not gonna happen.” The guy states with a slimy grin, as his eyes slide over me, making me wish I was anywhere else.

“I said get the fuck away from her. What the hell is wrong with you?!” Stiles growls, stepping closer to this giant of a man. But I can only watch from where I sit, still paralysed with fear.

“Get over yourself, Stilinski, we were just gonna have a little fun. Stop being so hard up, go find your own pussy. This one's mine tonight, maybe I’ll let you have a go tomorrow. After I’ve used her up, such a pretty little body, bet she’s gonna feel real fuckin’ good.”

The words almost make me throw up, but my tongue feels swollen and I can speak. My eyes lock with Stiles for the first time in years as a tear slides down my cheek.

“I’ll make you fucking eat those words, Travis. The only thing you’re about to feel is my fist,” Stiles snarls, “take your fucking hands off of her.”

“Whose makin’ me? Your pansy ass?” Travis laughs, removing his hands and taking a few steps closer to Travis.

Suddenly those deep brown eyes draw me in like never before and my heart stills in my chest. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a few months. The FBI program has kept him so busy lately that we haven’t seen much of him. But still, I could swear there’s something a little different about him, other than his size, but there’s definitely something different about his eyes, something that I can’t quite place.

I can’t tear my gaze away, instead they fall to his lips and I shift uncomfortably where I sit, suddenly a growl tears through the room. My eyes widen and I look to the doorway behind Stiles, expecting to see my brother, but he isn’t there. I swallow thickly as my eyes automatically snap back to Stiles, and I see it, the flaring of his nostrils, the way his eyes are focused entirely on me, then I realise the sound could only have come from him. But he doesn’t share the same wolf affliction that my brother has, at least, not that I know of. How much has changed since I last saw him!

Stiles steps closer, body tense and unflinching. All traces of fear have disappeared from his face. Now he just looks furious, more so than anyone I’ve ever seen before.

“Mate.” Stiles snarls, shoving the guy as soon as he’s close enough, and to my utter shock and surprise the guy slams back into the wall with a crash, leaving behind an imprint of his giant body as he slides down the wall with a groan. Everything happens so fast, I don’t have time to analyse what the hell Stiles meant when he’d growled that one word. But I can’t help but shudder with excitement at the way my body responded.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps hammering up the stairs, and before I know it Scott has Stiles pinned against him, as Liam all but wrestles the other guy from the room.

“Stiles, you need to calm down, breathe buddy. ” Scott instructs calmly, his deep red Alpha eyes flaring to life, like they would when he’s trying to calm the other members of his pack. Something flits across my brother’s face as he relaxes his grip a little. Whatever it is, seems to register with Stiles that other than my brother we’re alone in the room and safe once again.

His body goes completely lax and Scott releases the tight band he’d been holding around his best friend. I can’t help but stare as Stiles staggers towards me. Safe to say I’ve sobered up in the last five minutes.

“Can one of you tell me what the hell just happened here?” Scott asks carefully, but I can’t take my eyes off of Stiles.

“Just give us a minute, Scott. I, um, I think I should talk to Stiles.”

I hear my brother huff out a breath before he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

“I’ll be back in ten if you’re not downstairs before then, we’re going home.” He calls through the door. Then the door opens again and Scott smiles at us both, “oh and thanks for having my sister's back, buddy.”

Stiles turns towards the doorway with a slight smile as his eyes lock on his Alpha, “Always, Scotty, you know that. We won’t be long.”

I finally let myself relax a little when the door closes. Stiles crawls on the bed and sits in front of me. He rests his hand over the reddened skin on my knee, and lets out another quieter growl. “I’m gonna fucking kill him. He won’t ever touch anyone ever again.”

“Hey, I’m okay,” I whisper, resting my hand on top of his, “you saved me.”

He runs a shaking hand through his thick hair and his eyes lock with mine once more.

“I should’ve been here. I’m supposed to protect you, I’m so fucking sorry, Mini. If that sick fuck had touched you…” He sounds so defeated and my heart squeezes at his words.

“You got here in time, you’ve always had my back. This time wasn’t any different, except maybe that,” you giggle slightly, as you nod toward the dent in the wall.

He shifts closer to me and drops his forehead against mine, letting out a contented sigh. I let my eyes slip closed for a second. For once I give myself the freedom to enjoy the closeness, I open my eyes again and those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes are focused on mine. I lick my lips and feel the shuddered breath that escapes his lips.

Ever so gently he reaches out and his thumb brushes my bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking beatiful. Please tell me you feel this, Mini, because you smell so damn good, I don’t know If I’m strong enough to stay away.”

I swallow thickly as his nose nudges mine gently, my entire body practically vibrating with need.

“Y-Yeah, I feel it,” I reply quietly, scared that if I talk too loud this dream will end, I don’t dare to tell him just how long I’ve felt these things though.

“Then we should probably talk. Because I need to tell you some things before this goes any further,” he replies, voice hoarse and strained, like it’s painful for him to speak these words. But then he goes to pull away and all my instincts go into overdrive, and I finally give in to what I want, I clamp onto him and don’t let go.

Nor do I fight the need to keep him close to me. Right where he belongs. My fingers push into his thick hair and I gently tug him back towards me, just those last few millimetres. Until his lips brush mine ever so briefly. He doesn’t even try to fight me, and I can feel the shudder that runs through his entire body when I push him back and straddle his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. I think there’s some kind of trick of the lights because I could swear there’s this purple glow in his eyes for a few seconds before they settle back on brown. But I push the thought away for now, and press myself a little closer. So that every part of our bodies is connected.

“Tell me later, please Stiles, I need this.” I hope I don’t sound as desperate as I feel, Stiles doesn’t move, but I hear how hard he swallows, almost like a gulp as he lets his eyes slip closed. Following his lead I let my own eyes close when his hand cups my cheek, the other hand slips somewhere much less innocent. When he cups my ass his long fingers curl and he squeezes slightly, letting out a groan of pleasure when I grind down against the obvious hardness pressing against me.

Suddenly his lips are on mine, insistent and urgent, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Our lips are in perfect sync, and a shudder rolls through me when his tongue nudges my lips, seeking permission that I happily and easily grant. I’m rocking my hips in a steady rhythm now, and the kiss grows deeper, his fingers dig harder into my skin as he urges me to keep moving.

Holding me as close as he physically can against his body, Stiles sits up, turning us so that my back hits the mattress and he’s hovering above me. He breaks our kiss and I gasp for breath as he drags his lips across my cheek and down into the crease of my neck. He groans as he inhales deeply, “smell so good. My mate. Just wanna mark you up, make you mine the right way.” His voice vibrates against my skin and I shiver as he laps at the soft skin of my neck.

Confusion sweeps through my lust-addled brain at his wording.

“What do you mean?” I ask breathlessly, more confused about his words than I’d care to admit.

Pulling back to meet my eyes he smiles, and ducks his head looking a little more like the Stiles I remember. I cup his cheek gently, urging him to look at me again.

“This is why I said we should talk. I can’t do what I need to. Not without you knowing what you’re letting yourself in for. I’m not the same man I was the last time I saw you, something happened, I just…I don’t know how to begin to explain this.”

It hurts me that he sounds so defeated already, almost like he’s worried about what he has to tell me.

“Don’t you know by now, nothing you tell me will change how I see you,” I tell him honestly, pulling him closer so his body is pressed against mine, and he finally lets some of his weight rest on me.

“I wanna believe you, but I’m scared. This is huge, and I can’t let anyone down, but especially you, I can’t lose you. Especially not now I know what you are to me, not now I’m so close.”

Before I can ask what he means there’s a hesitant knock on the door, before it slowly creaks open. Liam stands there, watching us sheepishly for a few seconds before Stiles growls at him, I can’t help but frown as I look up at my protector. But then I see it again, the purple in his eyes.

The gasp falls from my lips unintentionally and as soon as it does Stiles snaps his gaze towards me. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, his fingers tightening their hold on me and I can only stare up at him.

“Liam, get the fuck out. Now!” Stiles snarls.

“But, Scott said…”

Stiles is off the bed before I can react, when I do finally open my eyes I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Stiles has Liam pinned to the wall by his throat. And Liam is trying to get free, but he’s stuck fast. I can’t help but wonder, how the hell is that possible!

Mouth agape I watch as my brother’s Beta looks over at me, “little help here, mini. Calm your man down, please.”

My man? I inwardly ask myself, we’ve fooled around for all of 5 minutes and suddenly he’s mine. While I can’t fight the pleasure at hearing those words, I also can’t help but fight the confusion, maybe he wants me to calm Stiles down so he doesn’t have to hurt him.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask nervously, looking between the two of them.

Stiles gives a final squeeze before dropping Liam and racing to me, covering me with his body.

“Don’t you dare fucking look at her!” Stiles snarls, his arms shaking as he holds himself above me. “Tell Scott we’re coming and leave now!” Stiles warns in a low commanding voice that sends shivers racing across my body as he carefully tugs my skirt back into place.

I can’t deny the pulse between my thighs, even as I clamp them shut, and the whimper that falls from my lips causes Stiles to stiffen. Before he’s off the bed, practically throwing Liam further down the hallway when he doesn’t move by himself, slamming the door behind him. Before he turns back to me.

“God, please tell me you know what you just said,” Stiles rasps as he pulls me up off the bed and hauls me against his hard body.

“I don’t… what do you mean?” I ask, frowning in confusion, as I try to search his eyes for an answer. I hadn’t said anything… had I?

Stiles whimpers like those words cause him some kind of pain. He shakes his head, running his fingers through the thick mass of hair before tugging at it harshly. I want to comfort him but I don’t know how. Hell I don’t have a clue what the fuck is happening right now.

“We can’t do this. Not right now.” His words sound harsh and bitter, no matter how softly he speaks them.

I stumble away from him, confusion and hurt lancing through me like an actual weapon. I know there’s a reason for this, but it doesn’t hurt any less, doesn’t feel any less like rejection either. Tears fill my eyes, it’s irrational and I don’t feel even remotely in control of my emotions right now, but I can’t stop it, maybe i’m still drunk. Though it doesn’t feel like that’s it. Stiles steps towards me again and I step back, “no, no. Please, Sadie, I want to. But not until you know everything! I swear to you, whatever you’re thinking, we can talk about it. Please, Mini, just trust me.”

Hearing my real name on his lips is so strange, but I can’t deny that I really like hearing him say it.

I feel myself giving in, because as much as it hurts to have him turn me down, he's still one of the best people in my life. And despite myself, I’ve been in love with this pain in the ass longer than I can even remember, he’s yet to let me down in a real way. Letting out a sigh, I know it’s best to give him the chance to explain.

“Fine. Then let’s talk.”

He swallows thickly, as I watch him carefully. Pretty sure I’m not going to like the next thing that comes out of his mouth. He looks nervous and twitchy.

He winces before he even speaks, “I’m sorry. But not here, let’s go home, there’s too many ears here. I swear I’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re safe,” he all but begs, holding out his hand for me.

Pushing away any and all doubts, I take his hand. Watching as he visibly relaxes and pulls me closer to him.

“Thank you, I promise, I’ll make this up to you,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to my inner wrist. Yet another shiver ripples through my body at the contact that I can’t control.

He keeps me tucked into his side as we leave the room, careful to touch as few people as possible while we walk. When we finally make it outside, Scott’s waiting with the rest of the pack. Stiles looks reluctant to get in the car, judging by the way Liam forces his body closer to the opposite door Stiles’ look had been less than friendly.

He slips inside and I can’t help but squeak in surprise as he hauls me inside with him, not into my own seat but so that my back is tightly pressed against his front, and his arms band protectively around my waist.

“Dude. Come on! Not in my car, she’s still my little sister. Damn,” Scott groans, locking eyes with Stiles in the rear view mirror.

Stiles seems to consider his words before he reluctantly relents, moving to the middle seat before he gently eases me into the seat as far away from Liam as humanly possible. Keeping a hand firmly planted on my thigh, huffing like a petulant child, I can’t help but giggle. It’s almost like he can’t stop himself from touching me. His long fingers tightly curl around my leg, almost like he’s afraid someone will take me from him if he lets go. Taking a deep breath I tentatively slip my fingers between the gaps in his, gently squeezing them, hoping to offer even a little comfort, those big brown eyes jump to mine and he visibly relaxes into the seat.

I look up and catch my brother’s eyes. I can’t work out the look on his face, for the first time since we were kids, I can’t tell what he’s thinking and for some reason that only makes me even more anxious.

Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lilulo-12fanfiction @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @chewie-redbird

#stiles teenwolf #stiles stilinski #stiles fic #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teenwolf #teen wolf #stiles and scott #scott maccall #lydia martin #allison argent #liam dunbar #Scott's sister #stiles stilinski x reader #Stiles stilinski x Scott's sister

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watarfallar · 1 month ago

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Have Some Celebratory Incorrect Quotes- HERE'S TO WILD LIFE!

Joel: Oh, to be a bored heir to the throne who keeps rejecting marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener. Etho: Oh, to be a cute gardener who secretly places roses in the heir’s room because they are in love with them. Lizzie: Oh, to be the palace guard who discreetly helps to boost the cute gardener up the wall for their secret deliveries in the middle of the night. Scott: Oh, to be the heir’s best friend witnessing the two fools dance around each other while knowing damn well that the two like each other. Gem: Oh, to be the noble suitor from another royal family who comes to know of their love instantly and plans an entire plan to get them their happy ending. Impulse: Oh, to be a medieval peasant who knows nothing about the heir’s personal life and who dies of dysentery at age 23.

Pearl: My mom is calling… hi mom. Jimmy: Come on guys, stop. They’re trying to talk to their mom. Scar: *loud fake sexual noises* Mumbo: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP! Grian: *is asleep* Ren: *gets really close to the phone* Tell her I said hi.

Impulse: So, Skizz is late today. Anyone wanna bet why? Impulse: I say they slipped through the subway grate and is having terrible sex with the mole man. Grian: I don't know about that...I think either their alarm clock didn't go off, or they're in line at the bank. Scott: Take this more seriously! Skizz was clearly taken in their sleep! Lizzie: I bet they tucked themselves into the bed too tightly and got stuck. Cleo: Maybe they fell into another dimension where they're more interesting...? *Skizz arrives* Skizz: Sorry I'm late - there was a problem at the bank. Grian, clapping their hands in excitement: HOT DAMN!

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* Grian: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Impulse: ...I did. I broke it. Grian: No. No you didn't. Cleo? Cleo: Don't look at me. Look at Etho. Etho: What?! I didn't break it. Cleo: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Etho: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. Cleo: Suspicious. Etho: No, it's not! Bdubs: If it matters, probably not, but BigB was the last one to use it. BigB: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! Bdubs: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? BigB: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Bdubs! Impulse: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Grian. Grian: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Bdubs: Grian... Cleo's been awfully quiet. Cleo: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* Grian, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. Grian: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Grian: Grian: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

Joel: Christmas lights? Pearl: Check. Scott: Thermos of hot cocoa? Pearl: Check. Cleo: Santa suits? Pearl: Check. Grian: Shovel? Pearl: Check. Martyn: Alibi and bail money? Pearl: Check- wait, WHAT?!

Martyn: Alright, who’s hogging the Netflix account? I’ve been locked out all week! Scott: Sucks to suck! I’m already on the 8th season of Friends! Bdubs: Not me. Martyn: Don’t lie. I know it’s not Scar or Skizz. Bdubs: It’s not me, really! Martyn: … Bdubs: …But it might be Joel… Martyn: You gave Joel access to our Netflix account!?!? Bdubs: They wanted to watch Orange is the New Black! Martyn: I’m going to kill you.

Cleo: I’m the smartest person in my friend group. Skizz: You hang out with BigB, Jimmy, Etho, and Impulse. Skizz: It’s not as high a compliment as you think.

Gem: Dumbest scar stories, go! Martyn: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Etho: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned. Tango: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. BigB: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn. Bdubs: I have emotional scars.

Scar: *fills up bottle and drinks from that* Bdubs: *brought 4 bottles of water so this wouldn’t happen* Martyn: *drinks straight from the tap* Skizz: *dehydrates* Ren: *drinks from the puddle of water on the floor* Pearl: *licks the tap, doesn’t even need a drink*

!SUGGESTIVENESS AHEAD!

Grian: Make her pussy wet not her eyes. Scott: Make his dick hard not his life. Bdubs: Break her bed not her heart. Scar: Play with her boobs not her feelings. Mumbo: Get on his dick not his nerves. Etho: Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

!SUGGESTIVENESS OVER!

*after the Squad has been separated for a few years* Mumbo: So what have you been up to recently? BigB: Leading a revolution with Etho. Mumbo: Good for you two! Me, I've joined the mob. BigB: *nods* Oh, how cool! That's awesome! Mumbo: I know! Anyway, have you heard from the others? Bdubs? BigB: Happily living as a hermit in the woods. Joel? Mumbo: Wrongfully locked up in an asylum, which reminds me, we need to break them out later. Lizzie? BigB: Cult leader. Mumbo: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Joel, to the Squad: I’d die for you. Jimmy: Then perish. Scar: You will. Skizz: Please don’t. Impulse: Cool. Scott: I’d die for you first.

Jimmy: You're a lying piece of shit! Scott: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Impulse: I'm leaving and I'm taking Ren with me! Scar, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

Mumbo: If you put a milkshake in one yard and crack open a cold one in another yard, which yard would the boys go to? Pearl: Schrödinger's boys. Grian: FUCK! Lizzie: What about cracking open a cold milkshake? Etho: As we all know, the milkshake brings the boys to the yard. The presence of the boys is a prerequisite for the cracking open of a cold one, but cold ones do not have any inherent boy-attracting abilities. Milkshakes, however, do. Etho: All else being equal, the boys would proceed to the milkshake yard. While it is possible to announce the presence of cold ones in the hope of attracting some boys, the pull of the milkshake is much more powerful by comparison. Mumbo: ... Pearl: ... Grian: ... Lizzie: ... Etho: Mind you, all of this nonsense hinges on whether or not the boys are back in town.

Gem: What do you guys do when you're stressed? Cleo: Try and calm myself down! Tango: Sleep. Martyn: Get myself into even more stress, so that the first reason for my stress gets cancelled out. Scar: I don't.

+ bonus hermitcraft quote! (Dasuma and his brainless children)

Xisuma: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Pearl: Several traffic violations. Scar: Three counts of resisting arrest. Jimmy: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Grian: Also, that’s not our car.

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jesussavemenow11 · 10 months ago

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Winter's the Only Season // Smosh

Pairing- Amanda Lehan-Canto // Fem!Reader

Warnings- I don’t think any but if there is let me know and I will add them!

SO MUCH FLUFFY STUFF

NO USE OF Y/N

Word count- 1716

Summery- You love your close friends and family, especially when it comes time for the excitement of winter parties and feasts. But ever since your childhood best friend moved away, it’s never quite felt the same.

Winter’s in Boston are brutal, always have been brutal, will most likely always be brutal. From the wind to the constant snowfall. And don’t get me started on the irritable individuals that live in this city. I have a big family, they all come together during the big holidays like Christmas. It’s nice to have them all together. Friends and neighbors will get together and enjoy one another's company in the many parties my parents throw. The nights get rowdy and drinks get shared along with secrets about anyone and everyone. The moms gravitate to one side of the room, while the dads crowd to the other.

It’s been this way since I was a kid. But ever since Amanda moved away, things haven’t been the same. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy she got out of this god forsaken city, but I can’t help but be devastated with the truth of her not being around anymore. Amanda and I grew up as neighbors, our moms being highschool friends and our dads being forced to enjoy one another's company, and the constant playdates since we were babies, we couldn’t help falling into some sort of friendship. Amanda really only comes back into town for the winter excitement, due to her moms constant nagging and begging for her to at least visit during Christmas. Though I see her yearly, I still crave the day she flies back in and everything would feel normal and at peace again. Today was that day.

I drove home yesterday, returning back to the house I grew up in. I went through the typical emotional greetings. Now I sit by the window, picking at the loose fabric on the cuff of my jeans, waiting oh so impatiently for Amanda to show up once more. It had been a full year since I last saw her, hugged her, felt her arms wrap around me and smelled her signature honey and tea tree perfume.

My mom walked into the living room, a wooden spoon in hand, she sighed contently at me perched by the window. “Oh, honey.” She giggled slightly. “Hm?” I hummed back, not daring to move my eyes away from the view of the end of the street. “She’ll get here soon, I promise!” My mother tried reassuring me.

“While you wait, why don’t you help Cindy and I in the kitchen?” She said as she returned to the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes, my impatients eating away at me. The anticipation for Amanda to get here was killing me. I didn’t want to miss her arrival, but I also would feel awful If I didn’t go help my mom. So reluctantly I left my spot in front of the window, making my way to the kitchen. Immediately I was hit with the smell of warm rolls, turkey keeping warm in the oven and many other yearly feasts. My dad stood beside the fridge complaining to Cindy about how my mom won’t let him cook the turkey anymore because last year he cooked it for too long and my mom sent him out to get something else.

“She’s never Cooked the Turkey Cindy!” My dad complained, throwing his arms up, to an annoyed Cindy who stood chopping veggies while my nephew sorted them on a platter beside her. “I know Scott, but you have to have more faith in your own wife.” Cindy reassured the man.

I tried squeezing past the two, not sneaky enough though, my dad stopped me saying, “Candy! Help your dad out, tell your mom she has nothing to worry about.” I rolled my eyes at my frazzled father. “No thanks daddio, I don’t want to get caught up in between you and moms arguments.” I responded. My dad shook his head and mumbled under his breath. I reached over my nephew grabbing some celery. “We aren’t arguing, just bickering!” My mom giggled and patted my dads back.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to be a part of it. Dad please stop calling me Candy, I turned 34 this year, It’s not the same.” I said through a mouth full of celery. “Not the same as what?” He said as I squeezed past him. “As when you were 33?” I went to glare at him until I heard the front door open and a screech from my mom. “Amanda’s home!!” She shouted.

I practically threw my celery on the counter, sprinting to the front of the house. I looked out the window to see Amanda and her dad getting out of their car. My heart picked up, my excitement bubbling in my stomach and to my chest. Suddenly I felt sweaty and out of breath. I ran to the front door pushing it open. There she was, her hair up in a low pony-tail to be out of her face. She wore a ‘Smosh’ hoodie and blue jeans. She stretched as she got out of the car. Her long limbs reaching for the sky. I took in her beauty, even from here she was flawless. I have liked every part of her for so long, she was back home. She had let her hair grow out since I last saw her, her bangs longer and her skin seemed so tan compared to the falling snow.

I ran off the porch and straight into her, wrapping my arms around her neck. She stumbled back slightly, the impact startling her. Once she regained her balance, she wrapped her arms around me. I immediately melted into her embrace, she lifted me off the ground just barely to emphasize the love poured into the hug. This hug was shared yearly, typically on the same day, and nearly always at the same spot. Yet every time it feels so fresh and new. Amanda means the world to me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing her again. This moment right here, her hugging me, the faint feeling of her lips secretly pushed to my neck, the scent of her floating around us, my chest pounding with content, this moment was an unwritten law. We were to share this moment last year, this year, and the many years to come.

~~~~

Hours passed since Amanda returned home, the sun had set by now and we had all enjoyed dinner around the table. Per usual Amanda and I sat side by side. Her hand squeezed my knee from time to time under the table. I sat back and let the others reunite with her as I admired her from afar. My favorite is watching her play card games with some of the family and friends. The pure passion she has for winning, I love when she gets so into it she will start screaming and slamming her cards down in anger. Her and my dad will get into full blown arguments about what play was wrong and how the other is cheating. She’ll point at him and say: “How is that cheating?!” As he accuses her of a perfectly out of hand play. At the end of it all I will remind them both they forget rules way to easily.

Now, the both of us sit in the living room, wine glasses in our hands, and the bottle that I stole from the kitchen, stands on the floor just close enough to reach when either of us needs a quick refill. Everyone else either already went home or still sat chatting in the dining room out of sight, we could still hear them though, their loud banter and the faint christmas records creating a gentle ambience.

I shared a gentle moment of peace with Amanda, just the two of us in the living room on Christmas eve night. She took a sip from her wine, I watched her lips as she did so, so delicate, so soft. Her eyes shimmered in the light of the Christmas tree.

“How has work been?” I asked, really just using it as an excuse to hear her talk again. She shrugged. “Pretty good.” She started, her voice raspy from all of her shouting. “The fans seem to be taking a liking to our long story series stuff so we’re doing a lot of that lately.”

I nodded along listening to her every word. “I think they have been taking a good liking to you!” I pointed at her, wine glass still in hand. She quickly shook her head, but I could see a small blush cover her face. “I mean I can’t blame them!” I giggled.

“Oh please!” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Yeah I’m a real hot commodity!” She laughed with me. Our fit of giggles fading slowly into the background noise. “I really missed you.” I said suddenly, my heart skipping a beat when she looked over to me, her smile lingering on her face. “I always miss you.” She replied.

A silence fell over us once more, I couldn’t help but admire her. “You stare a lot.” She said, “You have a very stare-worthy face.” I replied quickly. Her smile dropped, and I inched forward, I had been waiting to feel this again, was the the moment?

“You too.” She replied before leaning the rest of the way.

I kissed her, slow and tender. She returned the gentle kiss, treating me as if I were made of the finest marble and she didn’t dare make a scratch. I pushed deeper into the kiss, wanting to live in the moment all the time. Wanting to have her during all seasons, I want to have her near me everyday. I don’t want to wait for that one time of year that she comes home and I only get her for two weeks. I loved these two weeks, but I also despised them because I knew at the end I would have to say goodbye again.

I knew that at the end she would go back to California and I would go back to my 9-5, as I counted down the days of her return. Winter was the only season we could be together.

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I hope you enjoy this, this is my first EVER smosh fic. I hope you like it, leave critics and requests I am open to anything. I used to be a huge fanfic writer but haven't done it in a while so I'm a little rusty. Love you all!! - DOT

#smosh #amanda lehan canto #smosh games #fanfiction #smosh fanfiction #smosh squad #female x reader #female x female #smosh shayne #shayne topp #angela brainrot #angela giarratana #amangela

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princeescaluswords · 1 year ago

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Self-Reflection

Of all the slanders delivered against Scott McCall -- and trust me, if there is a bottom to the barrel that holds them I haven't found it yet -- the ones that drive me to distraction the most are the ones that are so easy to disprove. For example, I recently encountered a story where the author argued that Scott was a "good friend but secretly a bad friend" because he is judgemental about other people's morals, ethics, and actions while never examining his own.

I know, I know, that what they mean is that they see Scott working against Derek or ignoring Stiles because Derek's and Stiles's solution to every problem is to 'kill it before it kills you' as him being judgmental while sometimes making bad decisions himself. You see, white male characters with trauma are to be forgiven if they lie to others, be cruel to others, or hurt others, but a Hero of Color loses the right to criticize those behaviors if they make any mistake ... ever.

But, even so, the idea that Scott didn't think about the consequences of his acts is ridiculous, as much as believing he always thought he was right. I can point out at least one scene every season where Scott reflects upon the morality of his actions. I'll give examples, with the understanding that this isn't even exhaustive.

Season 1: It would absolutely have been easier for Scott to let the Argents use Derek to kill Peter, even though Derek would have died as well. He also consider the actions of the entire season.

Scott: Yeah, but that was - I mean - Would you just stop? Please? What happened the other night, Stiles' dad getting hurt, that was my fault. I should have been there to do something. I need you to teach me how to control this.

Season 2: Scott won't give in to Gerard's blackmail even though his own mother tells him to. (Notice how all anti-Scott people miss this scene.)

Melissa: Oh, I don't know what's happening. I don't know what that thing was or even what you are, but whatever he wants, just give it to him. Scott: Mom, it's not that easy. Melissa: Do what he wants. Just give him what he wants. Scott: I don't know if I can.

Season 3A: Scott is so consumed with guilt over Derek's apparent death that he nearly allows himself to die and realizes he's not always right.

Allison: You know, if he's really dead, it's not your fault. Scott: Maybe. But remember that whole thing that we talked about where I wasn't accusing you of being there, and if you were there you shouldn't be? Thanks for not listening.

Season 3B: Scott has to confront the reality that he lead Allison to her death.

Scott: It happened so fast. Argent: That's right. Say it again. Scott! Say it again. Scott: How are you doing this? Argent: It's what we do. It's what we do

Season 4: Scott, in the middle of allowing himself to be bait for the Benefactor, struggles with the possibility that he'll need to kill.

Scott: I can't do that. I can't kill them. Liam: Someone has to. Scott: Why me? Liam: Because you're the Alpha. Scott: I'm not a murderer. Liam: But you are a predator. Scott: No. We're predators... But we don't have to... We don't have to...

Season 5A: After being betrayed by his pack, Scott wonders if he even has the right to be the leader anymore.

Scott: But this time, I lost everyone. Melissa: You'll get them back. You have to. Scott: Why would they come back? Melissa: Because you're their leader.

Season 5B: Scott rejects the idea that he has a "Code Against Killing."

Scott: Deucalion? You shouldn't trust him. Theo: And you're the one who let him live. Scott: I'm not a murderer. Theo: You still think you're gonna get through all this without killing anyone? Scott: I didn't say that.

Season 6A: Scott accepts that Liam has the right to mistakes.

Liam: This might be a mistake. But you don't know that yet. And you made mistakes when you were learning to be an Alpha. Scott: Yeah, I made a lot. But we don't have time for mistakes. I can't lose Stiles. Liam: So we should try anything we can to save him. Right? Even Theo. Scott: Convince me.

Season 6B: Scott changes his tactics when he realizes that he is not going to be able to find a peaceful solution.

Malia: Hey. What do we do? Scott: No more peace summits. No more running. No more half measures. Malia: What's the plan? Scott: We fight back.

But fandom clings to the idea (proposed by that most reliable of sources, Peter Hale) that Scott sees the world in black and white, so if he does things wrong or chooses a questionable path, he must see it as absolutely correct, even though he never ever said that ! It's amazing to me how they're able to agree with the moral evaluations of a serial killer, yet can't extend an infinitesimal fraction of agreement with someone who had every right to act ten times worse than he did.

Because that's true. There's a reason they can excuse Stiles plotting Derek's death and Derek sending children to kill an innocent girl as being due to stress and trauma, but find it impossible to recognize that Scott is making decisions under the same duress.

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.

#scott mccall #stiles stilinski #derek hale #peter hale #melissa mccall #chris argent #liam dunbar #fandom racism #teen wolf meta #scott mccall defense squad

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strangerstilinski · 2 years ago

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SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter six

fic summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

chapter word count; 15,008

chapter notes; the alpha throws a dangerous wrench in amber's plans for a girl's movie night, and lydia is left mildly traumatized by the events. scott goes awol. amber gets her first glimpse of kate argent. parent teacher conferences get a little crazy thanks to a *ahem* mountain lion.

masterlist

c h a p t e r s i x

the tell

In the backseat of Mrs. Martin's Volkswagen, Amber was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest, staring at the vacant passenger seat that she'd thought she would be sitting in. Lydia had borrowed her mother's vehicle for the evening and Amber let her eyes travel over to where the strawberry blonde sat behind the wheel of the car.

"Hey, what did you do with all those balloons, anyway?" Amber questioned suddenly, leaning forward in her seat and tucking a lock of her ashy brown hair behind her ear. She'd nearly forgotten about the favor she'd done for Lydia that afternoon.

"I hid them in Allison's locker for her birthday." Lydia smiled, turning onto the next street. "Thank you for picking them up, I couldn't get the car until my mom got home."

"Oh!" Amber said in surprise at the new information, "Yeah, it was no problem." She smiled as she recalled how Stiles had slapped at the balloons in annoyance as they floated around the inside of the Jeep. He'd agreed to drive her back to the school that afternoon so she could hand them off to Lydia, and he had been very vocal about his regrets.

Amber's smile was wiped away and replaced with a frown when they turned to park in Jackson's driveway. The girls waited for him to come out to the car so that he could join in on what Amber had thought was supposed to be a girl's movie night.

"I still cannot believe you invited Jackson to our movie night," Amber hissed as Jackson opened the front door and stepped out onto the stoop.

"Oh, come on, babe-" Lydia sang, glancing at her friend in the rearview mirror, "It's one movie night. And besides, Jackson's been acting really strange since last week.. I couldn't say no."

Amber thought back to the look of sickening fear on Jackson's face after Derek had shoved him against the lockers a week before. She sighed, settling back into her seat as Jackson pulled the passenger door open.

"Hey," Jackson said to his girlfriend, dropping into the seat and leaning across the center console to peck Lydia on the lips. "Amber." He greeted her with a grimace before turning to buckle his seatbelt.

"Hi, Jackson." Amber said as politely as she could manage as Lydia pulled out of the driveway and headed in the direction of the video rental store. She absently picked at a loose thread on her jeans for a few minutes before breaching the silence, "So, what movie are we gonna get?"

"Here me out," Jackson started, turning to face Lydia with his hands up in a placating gesture, "I have a movie that I think all three of us will enjoy-"

"What kind of movie?" Amber asked, leaning forward in her seat in interest.

Jackson sighed at the question, "Okay, so it's a Drama.." He hedged slowly.

"And?" Lydia prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"And also a sports movie-"

"No."

"Lydia, c'mon!" Jackson pleaded, "It's really good!"

"No." Lydia repeated as she slowly turned into the parking lot, "We are not watching some stupid movie about football or whatever."

"No," Jackson argued, "Hoosiers is not only the best basketball movie ever- It is the best sports movie ever made."

"No." Lydia blinked, unimpressed as she put the car in park.

"It's got Gene Hackman and Dennis Hopper." Jackson defended.

"Who?" Amber asked from the backseat. Jackson quickly turned to shoot daggers at her with his eyes and she frowned in apology, leaning back in her seat.

"No." The redhead said again, continuing to stare out the windshield.

"Lydia, I swear to god you guys are gonna like it-"

"No."

"I am not watching The Notebook again!" Jackson said angrily. Lydia turned her head toward her boyfriend slowly and said nothing but she gave him a sinister smile.

Jackson took a deep frustrated breath and huffed loudly through his nose, getting out of the car and slamming the door closed behind him. He made his way into the video store and Amber unbuckled her seatbelt, moving to go in with him.

"I'll just.. Go and make sure he grabs something decent."

Amber trailed in a few seconds behind Jackson, and looked around the large room at all of the shelves holding different genres of movies. A phone was trilling loudly at the empty front desk and Amber sighed in annoyance as it just kept ringing, never going through to any sort of machine.

"Can somebody help me find The Notebook?" Jackson called out loudly and Amber snorted in amusement.

"I'm sure we can find something else." She laughed at him, squatting down to peer at the movie cases on the bottom shelf in the aisle labeled 'Romantic Comedies'.

"Hello?" Jackson called out again, walking past the aisle that had caught Amber's attention and moving further into the store, "Is anybody working here?" He sighed and the lights in the store flickered, drawing Amber's attention toward the ceiling. "You gotta be kidding me." Jackson mumbled.

Amber rose to stand and her eyes caught on the ladder that stood a few rows away. It was propped up beneath the flickering fluorescent light. She moved around Jackson and walked to stand underneath the hole in the ceiling, frowning in confusion. Someone had left the long light tube dangling down to rest on top of the ladder as if they'd stopped what they were doing mid-installation.

"Amber.." Jackson's voice was quiet as he took slow, measured steps toward her.

"What?"

The girl spun to face him and found his eyes were glued to the floor at the end of the aisle across from her. She turned her head to follow his eyeline and a scream slipped past her lips when she saw the full picture of what had caught Jackson's eye.

Jackson could see the feet that stuck out past the end of the shelf, but what was hidden inside the aisle was so much worse. There was a young man leaning against the shelf with his throat ripped out, the skin of his throat slashed from four long mangled cuts, blood dripped down to seep into his video store uniform shirt and leaving it stained a dark red. Worst of all, his eyes were open wide in unseeing fear behind his glasses.

Stumbling back in fright, Amber bumped into Jackson's chest just as he was coming to stand behind her. He reached up in an attempt to steady her with his hands on her arms but it was too late and the two of them fell backwards, tumbling into the ladder behind them. It crashed to the ground loudly, ripping the dangling light from the ceiling in the process and plunging the store into darkness.

"This can't be happening." Amber whined as Jackson pulled her up and steadied her on her feet again. Heavy, fear-filled breaths came from the boy beside her and the sound was only amplified by the way the lights flickered weakly in an attempt to come back on, the store remaining eerily dark.

There was a low growl from the darkest end of the store and Amber's head snapped up to look over Jackson's shoulder, a pair of glowing red eyes meeting her own from the darkest corner of the room.

"Jackson. Run." Amber whispered hurriedly, giving him a hard shove in the direction of the front door.

As soon as he had regained his footing, Jackson was turning back to grab her wrist, dragging her to squat down with him as he hid behind one of the shelves. They were both breathing too loudly, shaky exhales leaving their lips in quick bursts. Amber held a hand against her own mouth to muffle the sound as she peered out around the corner of the shelf slowly.

She looked back in the direction she'd seen the creature that she knew had to be the Alpha, something dark darting between the rows in a blur and rushing to the other side of the store with another low growl. A gasp escaped her at the sight of it and she retreated quickly back into the aisle, taking a few deep breaths.

The shelf the two were hiding behind shook against their backs and a handful of DVD cases rained down onto the ground around them. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and then another, and then another, and Amber belatedly realized it was the sound of the shelves knocking against one another as they toppled over like dominos down the row toward them.

"Shit-" Amber exclaimed, moving out of the aisle and pulling Jackson behind her. She slipped out of the way just as the shelf collapsed but the boy beside her was pinned underneath it from the waist down. "Oh my god! Jackson."

Amber tried in vain to lift the shelf off of the boy's legs but he was pinned not only by the weight of one, but the weight of all four of the shelves layered on top of one another. She groaned and lifted with all of her strength once again but the shelf only moved a couple of inches before she was forced to drop it back down again.

"Amber, just go-" Jackson pleaded.

Her stomach dropped at his words, "But-"

"Go." He hissed at her while attempting to pull himself free.

Amber whined miserably but rose to her feet. She looked up from the floor and her eyes widened at the sight of the beast now looming over Jackson's back. Its red eyes still glowed bright in the dark store as it reached down with a clawed, paw-like hand to pull at the collar of Jackson's jacket, leaning down to sniff at a newly exposed scab on the back of Jackson's neck.

She wasn't sure what it was smelling, but after a few seconds of huffing breaths over the boy's back, the Alpha rose to its full height again, towering over Amber by more than a foot. It was inhumanly tall, and black. Covered in thin, mangy fur. It had a horrifying, wolf-like face, its mouth pulled back to display dangerously sharp teeth as it snarled at her.

The Alpha took a menacing step forward and Amber countered it with one step back, her wide eyes glued to the creature in fear. Her hands shook as she slowly matched its steps in an attempt to keep the beast at a distance.

On her fifth step toward the back of the store, Amber stumbled over the ladder yet again where it had fallen to the ground and she tripped as her foot caught on the metal. She fell to the ground, catching herself on her elbows and gasping when the thin shards of glass from the broken light cut through the skin of her bare arms.

The Alpha leapt forward several feet until it loomed over her, leaning down to sniff at her in the same way it had done to Jackson just a few moments before. It sniffed at her hair first, huffing a hot, sneeze-like breath over the top of her head before it moved to sniff lower, breathing in and out at the collar of her tshirt. Amber whimpered quietly when its nose brushed against the skin of her throat but It moved to sniff lower again, stopping at a spot on the fabric that covered the center of her chest. It huffed another hot breath accompanied by a quiet growl before taking one step away from her.

Suddenly, the Alpha turned and took off in the direction of the front of the store, jumping straight through the large glass window with a loud crash and running into the dark of the night.

Amber remained on the floor for a moment and took a few slow, trembling breaths before her mind cleared and she frantically moved to untangle her legs from the ladder, more small shards of glass driven into the skin of her forearms as she struggled to get up.

"Jackson!" She called out as she got to her feet. She rushed back to the front of the store on shaky legs, "Oh my god, are you okay?"

"Would you just call someone strong enough to get me out from under here!" The boy snapped at her.

"I- Jeez, okay," Amber relented quietly, pulling out her cell phone to call 911, "I thought near-death experiences were supposed to bring people closer together, not turn them into bigger assholes." She muttered under her breath as she dialed the phone and exited the store.

As soon as she stepped foot outside, she caught sight of Lydia staring out the windshield with wide, fear-filled eyes and Amber hesitated as the operator picked up on the other end of the phone, aching to comfort her friend. She shook her head with a trembling breath, moving to the other end of the parking lot as she spoke to the woman on the phone and reported the dead worker. If she were far enough away, Amber hoped her friend wouldn't be able to overhear anything, so she paced at the edge of the pavement as she spoke, not wanting to scare Lydia any further.

When Amber hung up the phone with shaking fingers a few minutes later, she rushed back toward Lydia, finding her still in the same position that Amber had left her in, with fear-filled eyes glued to the empty space in front of her. Amber wrenched the car door open and knelt down onto the pavement to take Lydia's hands in hers.

"Lyds, babe-" Amber said softly, her voice only slightly shaky, "Are you okay?"

The redhead didn't speak, continuing to stare ahead of her still with wide, unblinking eyes and Amber sighed, taking a shallow breath and rubbing Lydia's cold hands softly between her own. She gently toyed with her friend's fingers while whispering quiet soothing words, hoping to pull her friend out of her state. Amber continued for several long minutes, time dragging in a haze before she spotted an ambulance pulling into the parking lot with flashing lights.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Amber told Lydia softly, still not getting a response.

Leaving the car door ajar, Amber made her way over to the ambulance just as three EMTs were exiting the vehicle, all rushing toward her with rapidfire questions until Amber pointed them all in the direction of the store.

"There's a worker dead inside," She told them past a lump in her throat, "And-And my friend Jackson, he's stuck under some shelves but- I wasn't strong enough to lift them."

They nodded and rushed inside, one of them heading to the back of the store where Amber knew the dead worker was still lying while the other two moved to free Jackson as quickly as possible.

Amber made her way back to the Volkswagen and enveloped one of Lydia's hands in her own again, standing just outside the driver's side door.

When two police cruisers pulled into the lot a few minutes later, the group of officers split off and spread out to cover the scene. One of the officers cautiously approached where the girls were waiting at the car and patiently began to ask Amber a long list of questions, collecting as much information from the frightened girl as he could.

"The animal, did you get a good look at it?" The officer questioned eventually.

"I, yeah, uh.. It got pretty close." Amber told him nervously.

"Do you think it could've been a mountain lion?" He asked her.

"A mountain lion." Lydia repeated quietly from inside the car.

"Uh, yeah, a mountain lion sounds right." Amber corroborated, squeezing Lydia's hand.

As soon as the shelves were lifted enough for him to slip out, Jackson rushed outside, shoving past the two paramedics in the store when they tried to check him for injuries. He made a beeline for Amber and Lydia just as a police officer a few yards away was lifting a hand in signal, the officer who had questioned them darting over to assist with something. Jackson shoved Amber out of the way when he got to the vehicle, his focus on where Lydia was still sitting inside the car. He leaned in to pull her from the vehicle, speaking to her softly.

Amber took a reluctant step back from the couple, turning to watch through the broken window as two of the EMTs and a coroner moved over toward the dead body while the third paramedic made his way back outside to check on the teens. The paramedic led Lydia and Jackson over to the back of the ambulance and waved for Amber to follow when he caught her gaze.

She joined them just as Lydia was being guided to sit at the end of the ambulance between the open doors and Amber rushed to her friend's side, squeezing in to stand beside Jackson.

The paramedic glanced back at Lydia for a moment before he spoke to Jackson and Amber quietly, "She's not responding due to shock.. That should wear off soon. But she's got some blood on her hands and clothes-"

"She's not bleeding." Amber assured him. Her eyes fell to the blood on the backs of Lydia's hands and shirt and Amber frowned in confusion.

"Miss.. Are you alright?" He asked her, finally taking a moment to look the brunette up and down in scrutiny.

"I'm fine." She told him impatiently, "Could you please just get her a blanket or someth-"

"You're bleeding." Jackson muttered into her ear.

"What?" Amber looked down at herself and her eyes caught on the large smudges of blood that trailed down the skin on the backs of her arms. Now that she was looking at the red stains, the glass embedded in her flesh suddenly stung painfully, "I-I forgot." She admitted quietly.

"It's because of the adrenaline. That happens a lot." The EMT assured her. He gently guided her to sit down beside Lydia, climbing into the back of the ambulance and moving around behind them in the space. He re-emerged a few moments later with tweezers, a small metal bowl, gauze, cotton balls, and rubbing alcohol.

Amber pressed her knee into Lydia's thigh and sat silently as the paramedic raised Amber's trembling right hand above her shoulder and began to pull tiny shards of glass from the back of her forearm. She winced with each piece that was tugged gently from her skin before being dropped into the metal dish beside her.

Jackson moved off to the side after a moment, mumbling something under his breath about calling both Lydia's parents and his own.

Amber watched through the colorful lights flashing in the parking lot while the police officers worked quickly to block off the building with yellow tape. They moved around methodically, speaking with one another and frequently speaking into the radios that were clipped onto their shoulders.

By the time Jackson returned, the paramedic had finished removing the glass in Amber's right arm and had moved on to clean the cuts with alcohol while she bit down her lip painfully at the sting it caused, trying not to pull away.

"I'm going to head out." Jackson announced, standing several feet away.

The EMT didn't look up from where he was tending to Amber's arm, "I'd still like someone to take a look at your head before you go-" He insisted for what must not have been the first time.

"No, I'm fine," Jackson snapped, "I'm not one of the people here who are dead or bleeding."

Amber looked up to give the boy a look of astonishment, "Jesus, Jackson. Way to be sensitive-"

A Sheriff's Department cruiser pulled into the parking lot just as Jackson was turning to face Amber with a dark look, "Oh, shut up, Callisto. You're the one who left me trapped in there-"

"I- You told me to!" Amber defended herself, wincing when the paramedic began to pull tiny shards of glass from her left arm.

"This is ridiculous! I'm not even injured," Jackson's voice rose as he argued with the paramedic who was still focussed pulling glass from Amber's skin, "Why the hell can't I just go home? I'm fine." His voice trailed off into something quieter as he finished speaking.

"I hear ya, but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard," Sheriff Stilinski's voice cut in as he approached the group. His gaze caught on the brunette sitting at the back of the ambulance and he paused, frowning at her with worry for a moment before he re-focussed his attention on Jackson, "They just wanna make sure don't have a concussion."

"My god. Jackson, just let them look at your head. It'll take five minutes." Amber finally said, yelping when a particularly long piece of glass was pulled from the underside of her arm above her elbow.

"What part of 'I'm fine' are you people having a problem grasping?" Jackson asked, raising his voice again, "Okay? I wanna go home."

"And I understand that-" The Sheriff started gently.

"No, you don't understand! Which kind of blows my mind, since it should be a basic concept to grasp for a minimum wage rent-a-cop like you! Okay, Now I wanna go home!" Jackson yelled in the Sheriff's face.

Amber had heard enough. She pulled her arm out of the paramedics grasp with an angry snarl and closed the small distance between herself and Jackson with purpose, her fists clenched in rage, nails digging into the palms of her hands. She was only a second away from hitting the boy when Sheriff Stilinski stepped between them and gently pushed her back with his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh, woah! Is that a dead body!?" She heard Stiles' voice cut through the tension.

Her fury dissolved immediately and her head snapped around to see the boy standing at the passenger side of his dad's cruiser, his arms draped over the open door with an arm pointing in the direction of the store behind them.

The Sheriff gave his son a disappointed look and Stiles began to shrink back before his eyes landed on where his dad was releasing Amber's shoulders from his grip.

"Amber?" Stiles called out worriedly, slamming the car door shut as he stumbled over his own feet and jogged toward the back of the ambulance.

"Stiles," She sighed in relief at seeing her best friend, flinching in surprise when she felt the paramedic place a hand on her shoulder and guide her to sit still again, this time off to the side so that the other EMTs could wheel the dead body into the back. "Sorry," She apologized to the man quietly as he wordlessly lifted her arm and resumed with the tweezers.

"What happened?" Stiles asked in concern, looking her over and narrowing his eyes when another tiny piece of glass was plucked from her arm.

"I tripped?" She settled on in explanation for now. Her eyes flicked nervously over the large crowd of people that had filled the parking lot.

The paramedic began to wipe her cuts clean with alcohol again without warning and she winced, reaching out automatically to grip Stiles' hand in her free one.

Stiles looked at her worriedly while the paramedic wrapped gauze around her forearms before the man left the two teens alone. Stiles pulled gently on Amber's hand in his and tugged her away from the crowd to stand behind his father's car, leaning close to speak to her quietly, "Okay. So, what actually happened?"

She swallowed, tightening her grip on his hand, "The Alpha killed the video store clerk," She explained in a choked voice, "He chased me and Jackson but didn't hurt us at all. I-I don't know why-"

"Your arms?" He interrupted, eyes flicking down to her bandage injuries before meeting her own again.

"I tripped and fell in a little bit of glass from a broken light, it's fine," She assured him before continuing, "But the Alpha, it just- Smelled us both and then ran away."

He took a deep breath and she watched as he licked his lips in thought before his gaze dropped and paused on her chest, "Where did you get that shirt?" He asked.

She glanced down at the dark gray tshirt she was wearing. She'd tied the oversized shirt in a knot at the bottom, cropping it above the waistband of her jeans to reveal a strip of skin on her stomach.

"I don't know-?" She said honestly, "I was running late when Lydia picked me up and I just threw it on. It was in my room. I figure it's either yours or Scott's."

Stiles reached out to tug at the neckline, pulling it out to look at the tag sewed into the collar, "It's not mine," He confirmed, leaning back to look at the front of the shirt again, "Scott?"

"I don't- You don't think the reason the Alpha didn't kill me is because I smelled like Scott?" She asked nervously, heart rate picking up.

"Maybe," He replied, "But then, why didn't it kill Jackson?"

"I'm not sure." She furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at the boy in front of her.

The flickering red and blue lights from the emergency vehicles filtered over his face in a haunting way, the blinking glow bringing the ever-present queasy feeling from the knots in her stomach into a sudden focus.

Her eyes drifted back to the video store. The broken glass on the pavement in front of the large front window reflected the shining colors of the lights. The yellow crime scene tape flapped back and forth in places where officers were ducking underneath it to move in and out of the building. The tshirt she was wearing suddenly felt too heavy against her skin as she remembered the way the Alpha had sniffed it deeply before growling and exhaling a hot menacing breath over her.

"Amber?" Stiles called out quietly, his voice sounding oddly distant to her ears.

She belatedly realized that she wasn't entirely sure when she'd last taken a breath and she attempted to inhale deeply but her lungs barely managed to pull anything in before she was forced to exhale again with a sharp gasp. She tried again and found herself choking on the air as she sucked it in, looking up at Stiles with wide panicked eyes as she felt her chest tighten with anxiety at the lack of oxygen.

"Hey, you need to breathe." Stiles said gently, reaching up to rest his hands on her shoulders and rubbing his thumbs softly back and forth.

"I-" She started before gasping around another too-small inhale, "Stiles- I can't."

He pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly, cradling the back of her head and guiding her face into the crook of his neck in a practiced motion.

"Hey, listen to me," He said softly into her ear, "You're okay. I know you're scared, but I'm not gonna let anything happen to you ever again, y'hear me? You're okay-"

She gasped in a lungful of air and her whole body trembled when she exhaled against the warm skin of his neck.

He carded his fingers through her hair as he continued to murmur in her ear, "You're safe now. And I'm gonna keep it that way because- Because I'm the Batman of the group, yeah? You said so yourself. So, I'm gonna keep you safe." He promised quietly.

As he spoke, she finally managed to lift her hands from where they'd been hanging limply at her sides and she thrust them into the warmth beneath the fabric of Stiles' jacket and gripped desperately at his waist over the thin cotton of his shirt.

Every inhale filled her nose with the scent of him. The strongest thing she could smell was the lingering traces of his body wash, beneath that there was the laundry detergent from the collar of his shirt, and then a barely-there hint of sweat. She pushed her face further into his skin and breathed in the calming, familiar scents gratefully.

It took a few minutes, but her head slowly cleared, breathing evening out as more oxygen was pulled into her body. She continued to puff out warm breaths from her mouth, parted lips pressed into the soft skin of Stiles' neck. She focused on the sound of his voice, the gentle rhythm of his long fingers combing through her hair, his chest against hers.

"Yeah, y're okay," Stiles said softly, his mouth pressed close to her ear. He waited for her to take in a couple more deep, even breaths before his grip loosened around her shoulders, "Y'okay?"

"Yeah, I-" She let out an embarrassed laugh, speaking quietly, "I'm sorry."

"No, hey. Don't apologize, alright?" He combed his hand gently through her hair, pushing it back from her face.

"I don't know what happened, I just- I was thinking about the way it looked. The way it moved. The way it was so close that it could've ripped my throat out-"

"But it didn't, right? For whatever reason, it didn't. You're safe now." He assured her.

She took a deep breath and nodded just before Stiles' dad came to stand beside the pair. He squinted at her in scrutiny, "You doin' alright, Amber?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay now." She stepped out of Stiles' embrace but grabbed his hand in the process and interlaced their fingers.

"Alright. Well, I talked to the paramedic and he says you're all set to go home." The Sheriff told her.

"Good, cool." She nodded distractedly. Her mind raced with what she was going to say to her brother when she saw him, "Can we hold off on telling Jason about this until he's off shift?" Amber pleaded.

"No can do. I already called him-" The Sheriff told her. At her outraged squeak, he continued, "I'm sorry, kiddo, but it was out of my hands. You're a minor and you were injured at the scene of what we still have to consider a possible homicide."

"Oh, god." She whined, looking around the parking lot frantically as if Jason were about to appear out of thin air to yell at her.

"Not to mention this is the third time you've stumbled across a dead body in the last month-" The Sheriff frowned at her with a disappointed look that she was sure would rival the one she'd be getting from her brother at any minute. "I don't know what is going on with you kids, but this has gotta stop happening when you all are around. Y'hear me?"

Amber and Stiles both nodded.

"You're coming back to my place, right?" Stiles asked quietly into her ear when his dad was distracted by something happening behind them.

She nodded, whispering back, "Yeah, we need to talk to Scott ASAP and figure out what the hell-" She started before a faded red pickup truck caught her eye coming down the dark street.

When Jason's truck turned into the parking lot, it did so in a rush, coming to a stop just behind the Sheriff's cruiser without bothering to pull into a parking space. He flew out of the vehicle, rushing toward them, and his hands went to cup Amber's shoulder and the side of her head as soon as he was close enough to grab her.

She watched her brother huff out a relieved breath as he verified that she was mostly unharmed and she released her grip on Stiles' hand to stepped forward and pull Jason into a hug.

"I'm fine, I'm okay." She attempted to reassure him.

When she stepped back from the embrace, Sheriff Stilinski had pulled Stiles away, leaving the siblings to talk in privacy.

"What happened?" Jason asked her firmly.

"Um, they think a mountain lion might've gotten inside the store somehow before we got here.. It attacked the worker. Then it knocked some shelves over on top of Jackson, and I tripped trying to get away but- It, um, it just ran off."

"You're damn lucky it did," He told her, smoothing the hair at the side of her head down flat. His own hazel eyes went to the scene around them and he took a deep breath before letting it out slowly, "How are you feeling though? Really. Must be shaken up?"

"I- Yeah. I-I am. Shaken." She admitted quietly.

"I'd be worried if you weren't," He said with a small smile, squeezing her shoulder firmly in reassurance, "You ready to get out of here?"

"Can I- Would it be okay if I slept at Stiles' house tonight?" She asked nervously.

"Do I need to remind you what happened the last time I let you go to a friend's house right after something like this?" Her brother questioned. The cool and calm attitude he'd displayed since he arrived at the scene seemed to fade into something more panicked and Amber shrunk back under his gaze but she didn't speak, so he carried on, "You went out in the woods to look for the other half of a dead body. And I didn't find out until Noah Stilinski called to tell me about it almost two weeks later," He paused to take a breath, "And that was before we knew it was just an animal attack! For Christ's sake, Amber. You're killing me here."

She figured it would be in her best interest to let him get it all out at once, so still, the girl deigned not to speak. She chewed her lower lip and glued her eyes to a small stain on the collar of her brother's tshirt until he filled the silence again.

"You keep finding dead bodies, and you're trespassing on private property to get my old classmates arrested for suspected murder, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do to keep you out of trouble," Jason sighed, "Would things be different- If I didn't work so much? I'll leave the station if you want me to- I will. I can find a regular nine to five and-"

"No!" She interrupted quickly, "Jay, c'mon you love being a fireman." The girl reached up to rest her fingers over the hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry about digging up the Hale property and getting Derek arrested — I really am." She promised him.

He sighed after a moment and held a hand out, gesturing toward his parked truck, "Home tonight. Okay?"

"Okay." She agreed, following him toward the vehicle. She cast a final look back toward where Stiles was standing a couple yards away, waving to him sadly as she went.

The boy gave her a small reassuring smile in understanding and waved back just as she was climbing up into the truck. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she dropped her head back against the headrest with a sigh.

The next morning, after a fitful night's sleep, Amber was dropped off at school unreasonably early before Jason had to be back at the station. Her brother had insisted on giving her a ride, and after seeing the pleading look on his face, Amber couldn't help but agree.

The first bell wouldn't ring for another hour, so Amber wandered into the library to work on an English paper that wasn't due for another week. She managed to nail down her outline and wrote a few hundred words before she noticed a handful of students milling around the library, returning and checking out books, and she suddenly realized that there were only ten minutes left until the first bell.

Collecting her things in a rush, Amber made her way through the halls, pausing when she saw Allison just a few steps away from her locker. Amber smiled in giddy excitement and plastered herself to a locker beside the girl, leaning against it casually.

Allison gave her a sweet smile, "Hey, Amber." The girl seemed to pause in thought before her face set in determination, "Can I ask you about something that's been bothering me?"

"Yeah, of course." Amber agreed immediately.

"Why was Derek at the school last week?" Allison asked, her eyes downcast.

"Um," Amber started, struck dumb by the question, "He was- Looking for me."

"Mm, how come?" Allison questioned, fingering at the edge of her leather jacket.

"He- He wasn't feeling well, so-" Amber struggled to come up with a believable lie on the spot, "Stiles and I ended up giving him a ride to the doctor's office."

"Okay-" Allison responded slowly after a few seconds passed, "And you and Derek aren't still- Y'know?"

"No, no, we're not." Amber said quickly, "Just- Friends? Sort of."

Allison nodded, pursing her lips. She looked like she was about to ask another question so Amber deflected quickly.

"So.. Birthday girl," Amber started, grinning when Allison's eyes went wide and glanced around them to see if anyone had overheard, "How does it feel to be sixteen?"

"I- Uh, I'm actually turning-" Allison looked around them worriedly again before whispering, "Seventeen." Amber went to speak but Allison held up a finger to the girl's lips before speaking again, "Please don't tell anyone. It's always a huge thing when people find out-"

Amber laughed, pulling Allison's finger away from her lips, "Why is being seventeen such a big deal?" She asked, "Stiles turns seventeen in two months."

Allison seemed surprised at this, "Really?"

"Yeah," Amber said, "I mean, he was held back in elementary sc-"

Allison sighed loudly, "That's exactly what I'm worried about people thinking."

"Who cares?" Amber asked her, "People get held back. It happens. Being held back doesn't mean you're stupid or something." Amber said defensively.

"No, no, you're right." Allison said with a shake of her head, "I'm sorry."

Amber relaxed slightly, "It's okay."

Allison turned back toward her locker and moved to begin working the combination on the little purple padlock. When she got it undone, she pulled the door open and a cluster of colorful balloons tried to break free from the confined space. The girl frantically fought to push the balloons back inside and looked around with wide eyes while Amber laughed at her.

Pulling a small card from where it was magnetized to the inside of the door, Allison flipped it open and read the note inside.

"You and Lydia-" Allison began to whisper quietly before Scott approached them from the other side.

"Is it your birthday?" Scott asked innocently, pointing to where a balloon was about to drift free from Allison's locker yet again.

"No, no!" Allison said immediately, fighting with the balloons, "Uh, no. I mean, yes. Please don't tell anybody. I don't even know how Lydia and Amber found out."

Scott looked up at Amber with a wide eyed look of betrayal and she raised her hands in surrender, "I didn't know. Lydia asked me to bring her balloons after school yesterday and I did. She didn't tell me what they were for until last night."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Scott asked softly, his attention focussed on Allison.

"Because I don't want people to know." Allison said quickly before pausing, "Because- I'm seventeen."

"You're seventeen?" Scott asked in surprise, blind to the way Amber was waving her hands frantically for him to shut up.

"That's the reaction I'm trying to avoid." Allison said with an annoyed look.

"Why?" Scott tried to recover, grimacing when he caught Amber's eye, "I mean, I-I totally get it. Uh, you had to repeat a year because of all the moving around, right?"

Allison looked at him in surprise before closing her locker door. She turned her back to Amber and leaned into Scott's space to give him a slow kiss.

"What was that for?" Scott asked with a smile.

"For literally being the first person ever to make the correct assumption. Everybody always assumes I got knocked up or held back." Allison told him, taking a step back to lean against her locker and glance at Amber again.

"-Which, y'know, if either of those were true that would be okay too." Amber reminded her futilely.

"But, that's what you hear on your birthday?" Scott asked, ignoring his best friend.

"Oh, yeah." Allison told them, "All day long."

"Then- What if you and I get out of here?" Scott asked her with a tender look.

Allison looked at him closely, "Skip class?" She asked.

"Yeah, the whole day." Scott smiled, reaching up to pull gently at one of Allison's curls.

"Scott, are you sure that's a good idea-" Amber started, cutting herself off at the sharp look he gave her. She pursed her lips, rolling up onto the balls of her feet before dropping back down, "And, I am going to leave you two lovebirds to make your own questionable choices." She announced, stepping back from the pair slowly. 'Happy Birthday' she mouthed at Allison with a grin before turning and heading in the direction of her own locker with a shake of her head.

In third period Chemistry class, Amber took the open seat across from Stiles with a smile, rubbing her hand back and forth along the softness of his short hair as she passed him and fell into her seat.

They were having a quiet class period wherein they were all supposed to work on the problems from the current chapter in their textbook — so that they could ask questions if they had trouble with anything. Hardly anyone ever did ask for help, given that Mr. Harris was a condescending nightmare on a good day, but if they talked quietly enough, it was easy to work with the people at your table.

Amber pulled out her things as class started and she began copying down the questions into her notebook. Twenty minutes passed and she was only just beginning to work on question number three, the pencil in her hand having spent more time hovering over the page in her notebook than it had pressed against the paper. Her concentration was hard to keep focused when her eyes kept drifting up to the boy in front of her.

Stiles had shifted his stool to the corner of the table to be closer to her and he was rapidly highlighting important information in his textbook for when the two of them would make flashcards later on. He had the cap of the marker held between his teeth and she watched Stiles gnaw on it, his jaw working distractedly as he traced over the words.

Her attention was suddenly torn from the way that Stiles' lips wrapped around the tiny piece of plastic as Mr. Harris began to speak from the back of the room.

"Just a friendly reminder.. Parent/Teacher Conferences are tonight," He said as he began walking down the aisle between tables slowly, "Students below a 'C' average are required to attend. I won't name you.. Because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment." As if the statement had triggered something in his brain, Mr. Harris paused at the end of Stiles and Amber's workbench, his eyes narrowing at the empty stool at their table. "Has anybody seen Scott McCall?"

Stiles looked up at where Mr. Harris was standing beside him but Amber bit her lip and looked down at her notebook in avoidance. She was saved from having to come up with a lie about her friend's whereabouts when Jackson walked into the room late, drawing their teacher's attention.

"Hey, Jackson," Mr. Harris spoke quietly, approaching the boy as he found his seat, "If you need to leave early for any reason, you let me know."

Jackson nodded and Amber scoffed at their teacher's kind comment. She'd been told nothing of the sort when she had entered the room at the start of class, despite her also having been attacked by a psychotic werewolf the night before.

Mr. Harris stepped back and moved to the chalkboard at the far end of the room, "Everyone, start reading the next chapter." He announced, pausing mid-step before speaking again, "Mr. Stilinski-"

Stiles' attention snapped up from his textbook again and he looked to the front of the room with wide eyes, surprised at having been called out.

"Try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs," Mr. Harris told him loudly in front of the class, "It's Chemistry. Not a coloring book." He finished patronizingly.

Amber's eyes narrowed at their teacher's back before her eyes were drawn to the boy in front of her again. She watched as Stiles threw his head back, exposing his long neck and sharp jawline, her eyes following his eyes movement. He blew the marker cap from his mouth and up into the air over his head, snatching it effortlessly in his outstretched hand as it fell back through the air.

Amber leaned forward across the table on her elbows and nodded her head to beckon Stiles closer. His eyes seemed to trail down to the low cut of her shirt for a second before he leaned in on the edge of his stool, closing the distance until only a small gap separated them.

"Don't listen to him," Amber told her friend quietly, reaching out with the hand not holding her own writing utensil and grabbing the capped highlighter from him. She innocently fingered the cap, chewing her lower lip for a second as she thought about the place it had been between his teeth a only few moments before. She shook her head and blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear her thoughts, "It's a studying method that works for you-" She tapped the highlighter lightly on the tabletop, "..And he's a dickhead." She whispered as an afterthought.

She unthinkingly raised the highlighter cap to her own teeth to pull it off single-handed before holding the bright yellow marker back out to Stiles. He took it from her outstretched hand with a dazed look, eyes never leaving her face.

She grinned at him and the action reminded her that she still had the cap held between her lips. When she reached up to grab it, the piece of plastic slipped from between her fingers and dropped beneath the neckline of her shirt, stopping to settle at her belly button where her shirt had been tucked into the waistband of her jeans. She cursed quietly, leaning back on her stool and peering down her shirt to look for it. She reached past the lace of her bra to fish it out, the material of her shirt stretched slightly around her arm, and just as her fingers closed around the cap, there was a loud crash.

Amber flinched, looking up to see Stiles' stool toppled over at the end of the table and the boy on the floor with it.

"Stiles!" She said in quiet alarm, "Are you okay?"

Stiles' cheeks were flushed pink as he climbed to his feet again and righted his stool, nodding and wordlessly taking the marker cap from her fingers before sitting back down in his seat. He didn't look up at her as he slowly began highlighting the page of his textbook again and Amber blinked in confusion.

She glanced around the room and caught the eye of Danny Mahealani, who was sitting directly behind Stiles. He was already watching her and Stiles with an amused grin and when she gave him a questioning look, he shook his head and turned back around to face his own table again.

Weird.

At the end of the school day, Stiles rushed up to Amber and slammed his body into the open door of her locker. He gripped the metal before it could smash into the girl and moved to stand beside it.

"Scott is being painfully unhelpful and we need to figure out what exactly Lydia saw." He said quickly as she shuffled her books around, "Where is she, anyway?"

Amber shrugged, "She was really shaken up last night. I think she stayed home for the day, but she hasn't been responding to any of my texts." She explained, zipping up her backpack and pulling it over her shoulders.

"Well, we should go to her house and talk to her, then." Stiles said simply.

"I- Yeah, I mean- I was going to-" She paused when she caught his eye, deciding against telling Stiles her plans for the afternoon.

Stiles raised his eyebrows at her sudden silence and she sighed quietly, closing her locker, "No, we should definitely go see Lydia." She agreed.

When the two arrived at the Martin house, Lydia's mom answered the door with a smile, "Amber, sweetheart." The woman pulled her into a hug, "It'll be so good for Lydia to see you. She's been holed up in her room all day."

"Yeah," Amber agreed, pulling back from the embrace, "We just wanted to check on her."

As if she hadn't noticed him until that moment, the woman's eyes caught on the boy standing beside Amber, "Oh!" She said, "And who's this?"

"Uh, I'm Stiles." He said with an awkward wave.

"Well," Mrs. Martin said simply after a moment, "Let's get you two inside then."

The three climbed the stairs to Lydia's bedroom and Mrs. Martin knocked softly on the closed door, pushing it open and poking her head in as she spoke, "Honey, Amber and Stiles are here to see you."

Lydia was laying across the bed on her stomach in a beautiful but revealing blue nightgown, examining her fingernails distractedly. Her strawberry blonde hair was long and loose, falling messily around her, and when she looked up, her eyes looked drunkenly distant.

Amber pulled Stiles through the doorway by his hand as Lydia blinked, "What the hell is a styles?" She asked in sleepy confusion.

Mrs. Martin laughed awkwardly behind them, clasping her hands together, "She, uh, took a little something for her nerves," She told them as she began to pull the door closed behind her, "I'll just, I'll leave you three-"

"Thanks." Stiles told her as Amber pulled him over to the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Lydia asked, turning onto her side and exposing her chest as she focussed her attention on Amber.

"We wanted to make sure you were okay." Amber told her softly, moving to sit beside the girl and combing her friend's red hair back from her face with her fingers.

"Really?" Lydia asked, glancing at where Stiles was still standing beside the bed, "Both of you?"

"Yes, both of us," Amber told her, tugging Stiles down to sit beside her harshly and causing him to land very nearly in her lap, "We were both worried about you today."

"How're you feeling?" Stiles asked, looking at the redhead on the other side of Amber.

Lydia propped herself up on her elbow, leaning into Amber's hand in her hair for a moment like a cat who was enjoying being petted. The redhead then came closer until her forehead rested in the center of Amber's chest, Lydia's face pressed against the place where the fabric of Amber's low cut shirt revealed her cleavage.

Lydia spoke softly into Amber's skin, "I feel.. Fantastic." She slurred as Stiles watched them with wide eyes and huffed an awkward laugh.

Amber looked down at the girl in surprise and Lydia leaned back from her place between the brunette's breasts to settle a hand on her thigh instead. Amber looked over at Stiles with wide eyes of her own and saw the matching look of shock on his face.

Stiles suddenly reached around both girls to grab a little orange prescription bottle from the bedside table before examining the label. Amber leaned close, peering down at the plastic in Stiles' hands and reading the dosage of Lorazepam the doctor had prescribed.

"Lydia, your dose is only half a tablet to start, how much did you take?" Amber asked, pulling the bottle out of Stiles' fingers.

"Mm, I took two." Lydia said dreamily.

Amber shook her head in concern for her friend. Lydia was so hopped up on her medication, she was almost completely out of it.

Stiles looked at the redhead for a moment before a small smile pulled at his lips, "I bet you can't say 'I saw Suzy sitting in a shoeshine shop' ten times fast."

Amber laughed quietly, placing the bottle back on the table, "Stiles, I couldn't say that ten times fast."

Lydia leaned forward with a determined look on her face, "I saw Shuzy-" She started.

"Ah-" Stiles interrupted quietly with a grin.

Lydia sighed, eyes moving to Amber as she started again, "I shaw-" She said, her smile slowly fading until she flopped back down onto the bed heavily, "I saw."

"What?" Stiles asked.

Amber leaned closer, resting her hand on Lydia's arm, "Lydia, babe. What did you see?" She asked gently.

"Something." Lydia said distractedly.

"Something like-" Stiles prompted, resting a hand on Amber's thigh as he leaned closer, "A mountain lion?" He asked.

"A mountain lion." Lydia agreed with a small nod.

"Are you sure you saw a mountain lion?" Stiles asked.

"-Or are you just saying that because that's what the police and I said." Amber finished.

Lydia continued to stare at the wall at the side of the bed, "A mountain lion." She repeated.

Stiles reached around the two girls to grab a small stuffed giraffe from the bedside table, holding it out in front of his chest, "What's this?" He asked her.

Lydia turned to face the both of them again and looked at the stuffed toy in Stiles' hands, blowing a clump of hair out of her face before answering, "A mountain lion."

"..Okay," Stiles said slowly, putting the animal back where he found it and flopping down to sit beside Amber again, "She is so drunk."

Just as quickly as the words left his mouth, Lydia dropped her head into Amber's lap and nuzzled her face into the girl's stomach.

"Um.." Amber laughed quietly at their current position as the redhead reached an arm past Amber to place a hand at the top of Stiles' thigh.

Stiles gasped out a surprised breath and when Amber looked over to see what was wrong, her eyes caught on the spot where Lydia's fingers were resting on Stiles' upper thigh, just along the inner seam of his jeans.

Amber took pity on him and reached out to move the offending hand, but when her fingers settled over the top of Lydia's, Stiles made another choked noise, his mouth dropped open and he leaned back, clenching his eyes shut tight. At his shaky breath, Amber quickly removed their hands from where they'd both been clearly violating him.

"Sorry." She told him quietly, "..Are you ready to leav-"

"I gotta pee." Stiles said urgently, standing from the bed and turning his back to the two girls. He stumbled and tripped over his own feet as he headed in the direction of the door.

"I- The bathroom is across the hall-" Amber told him as he rushed from the room, "Well. You, he finds attractive," She told her unconscious friend quietly with a frown, "But then, don't we all?" Amber combed her fingers through Lydia's hair for another moment before sighing, "Alright, Lyds. We should really get going." She lifted Lydia's head from her lap and the girl pouted sleepily.

"Stay." She told her, sitting up straighter and reaching out to touch Amber's cheek, "Stay-" Lydia leaned closer and her green eyes traced slowly over her friend's face before cupping Amber's other cheek and holding her face softly between her hands. Lydia's thumb trailed down to brush over Amber's lip and she pulled it from where the brunette had it nervously pinched between her teeth, "Please?"

"Lyds, I-" Amber started nervously.

Lydia tilted her head forward and brought their mouths closer until their lips brushed together softly. Amber froze found her heart beating loudly in her ears at the barely there touch of lips.

"Oh for the love of-" Stiles' voice cut in loudly in distress.

Amber flinched and jumped back from the bed like she'd been burned. She watched as Lydia flopped down onto the mattress as if nothing had happened and snuggled into the pillows sleepily.

A moment of silence passed.

"Not. A word." Amber said quietly, lifting an accusing finger at the boy whose mouth had already been opening to say something.

Stiles raised his arms in surrender and Amber shook her head, her eyes caught on where Lydia's cell phone was sitting on the bedside table. She remembered how the redhead hadn't returned any of Amber's messages and wondered if it needed to be charged.

She took a step closer and picked up the phone, surprised when it immediately unlocked to display Lydia's camera roll. A video began to play automatically and Amber squinted at the dark grainy footage, her stomach dropping when she realized it was the moment that the Alpha had jumped through the front window of the video store. She paused it just as the creature broke through on the screen and gulped as she looked at the close-up of the Alpha's wolf-like mouth open in a snarl.

"I- Stiles?" She said in a quiet voice, waving him over.

He moved to stand beside her immediately, "What? What is it?" He asked.

She tilted the phone toward him and showed the frozen image of red eyes that glowed on the dark screen.

"What-? She got a picture of it?" Stiles asked frantically, pulling the phone from her hands.

"A video." Amber corrected quietly.

She took the phone back and texted the video to both Stiles and herself before deleting the file and the evidence of the outgoing messages, gently putting the phone back on the tabletop.

She turned, grabbing Stiles' hand and pulling him along behind her, "Let's go."

Despite the situation with the Alpha and her need to go speak with Derek growing more dire with every passing second — More than anything else, it was the guilt churning away in her gut that affected her the most.

Amber couldn't believe that she'd practically let a drug-delirious Lydia kiss her.

An hour later, Amber stepped off of her bike at the top of the gravel driveway in the preserve and made her way toward what was left of the large covered porch surrounding the Hale house. After a moment's hesitation, she wheeled her bicycle over to the side of the charred house instead of simply abandoning it out front. Once she had stowed her bike in the overgrown weeds and bushes, she climbed the porch and knocked on the chipped, soot-covered red paint of the front door.

The door was pulled open a few seconds later to reveal Derek standing in the entryway, shirtless and covered in a light sheen of sweat. In juxtaposition from the last time Amber had seen his muscled body shining with sweat, the sickly paleness from the week before had been replaced with a healthy looking glow.

"Why are you here?" He asked simply, raising his eyebrows with an unimpressed look.

"Why are you all sweaty?" Amber countered, stepping past him to enter the house. She looked around with barely concealed curiosity, eyes flicking over the room around them.

Unlike the caved-in shell that she knew stood at the back of the house, the front rooms seemed slightly less damaged. Standing in the entryway, she could almost imagine what the house might've looked like before it burned but regardless, Amber didn't much like the idea of Derek holed up in the ruins of the home where his whole family had burned alive.

Derek didn't respond to her evasive question, but he closed the front door and came to stand by the staircase in front of her, leaning back against the banister and crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for an answer to his own initial question.

"I wanted to check and make sure you were doing okay after last week-" She started. When Derek only proceeded in raising his eyebrows as if he didn't quite believe her, she carried on with a small sigh, "..And also I wanted to know if you figured anything else out about the Alpha. Scott's information distribution skills are crap at best and that thing could've killed me last night, but it didn't.. I want to know why, and also how we're planning to get rid of it for good."

Derek sighed, "First off, you are not going to be doing anything, even if I do come up with a plan. You are going to try to stay out of all this, like I told you before. Just because it left you and your friends alive last night, doesn't mean you'll be so lucky next time."

Amber took a step forward and opened her mouth to speak but he continued on.

"You can't keep coming around, alright? The hunters don't know about Scott yet, but they do know about me. If someone sees you hanging around, you're going to have more than just the Alpha to watch out for. I don't need you to be worrying about me."

Amber tore her eyes away from him to focus on the dust that covered the dark hardwood floors, "Someone should." She muttered under her breath.

"I don't need anybody to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"But that's just it, Derek. I don't think you should have to go through all of this on your own. I want to help-"

"I don't need your help," He said simply, "I need you to not get yourself killed."

Amber's face scrunched in frustration and she sighed loudly, "Well, I don't want you to-"

Derek suddenly stepped forward and pressed the palm of his hand to her lips, his other hand coming up to cup the back of her head to ensure she didn't move away. His eyes were squinted in concentration as he looked toward the front door and Amber recalled the way he'd done something similar when he'd been listening to Argent's vehicles approaching at the gas station.

Amber made a small, questioning noise and his eyes snapped back down to her. His green eyes met her hazel ones and before she could take a breath, he had wrapped an arm around her waist and had begun to drag her down the hallway, her feet barely touching the floor as they moved. When they reached a small closet beneath the staircase, he pulled open the door and shoved her to crouch inside.

"Listen. I mean it- Do not say a word, d'you understand? I don't care what you hear or see, you stay put and you stay quiet."

"Der-" She squeaked nervously.

"Not a sound." He told her, quickly shutting the slatted closet door and moving back a few steps further into the house.

The small storage closet wasn't much of a hiding space. There was a ten inch hole in the wall to her left that gave her a decent view through to the living room and the door was shutters instead of solid wood.

Amber leaned as far away from the hole as she could in an attempt to hide herself from view, peering through the slats to see what Derek was doing only to find that he seemed to have disappeared.

Amber had only just placed one of her hands on the wall to maintain balance in her crouched position when the front door to the house burst open with a crash. She flinched hard at the loud sound of the shattering wood but managed to hold back any noise of her own as two men and a woman entered the house. One of the men held a large black gun in both hands, turning with it slowly as if ready to open fire at any moment.

"No one home?" The man with the gun asked, shuffling around as he looked around the house.

"Oh, he's here," The woman grinned playfully, "He's just not feeling particularly hospitable."

"Maybe he's out," The second man started. Amber thought he looked more like a nineties boyband reject when compared to the dangerous aura the other two held, "Burying a bone in the backyard."

"Really?" The woman asked him in disappointment, "A dog joke? We're going there and that's the best you've got?" The three moved a bit deeper inside the house as she continued, "If you wanna provoke him, say something like, 'Too bad your sister bit it before she had her first litter,'" She smiled and raised her voice, "'Too bad she howled like a bitch when we cut her in half!'"

Amber raised a hand to covered her mouth and muffle a gasp. She heard Derek growl loudly from the other side of the house, followed by a scream that had to have come from the boybander who'd been outside of her field of vision. Derek must've thrown the man to the front of the house because his body landed in the front hall with a loud thump.

She watched as Derek jumped up and swung from the doorway, hitting the man with the gun in the chest with a hard kick that sent him flying to the back of the living room. Derek rose to his feet and snarled at the woman standing in the center of the room. He charged at her and the woman pulled a baton from her back pocket, whipping it out and extending its length with an electrified zapping noise. She thrust it into Derek's naked side as soon as he was close enough and Amber watched in horror as he dropped to the floor in pain.

Derek writhed on the ground, rolling onto his side and releasing small noises of discomfort. Amber bit her lip to the point of pain, her jaw trembling as she was forced to watch Derek's body tense and twitch from the shock of electricity.

"Wow," The woman stated, stepping closer and circling Derek on the floor as she examined him, "This one grew up in all the right places." The woman watched with a smile as Derek recouperated slightly and got his hands underneath him, "I don't know whether to kill it, or lick it."

Amber's heart clenched in both fury at the women's words, and pity as Derek weakly dragged himself along the dusty floor in an attempt to put distance between himself and the woman standing above him. The electric baton zapped threateningly at his back a couple of times as the woman followed behind him with a smile.

Derek tried to pull himself up with the help of the sofa in the corner of the room and the woman shocked him again with a jab to the stomach. Derek flew back several feet from the jolt and his body twitched, muscles tightening with the after effects.

Amber pressed her hand tighter to her mouth to stifle a sound and her eyes welled up with tears as the woman laughed joyfully at Derek.

"Ah, nine hundred thousand volts," The woman grinned, examining the baton in her hand, "You never were good with electricity, were you? Or fire." She laughed again.

Amber took a quiet trembling breath and she watched through the blur of her tears as Derek slowly pulled himself away again, his legs dragging behind him limply.

"-Which is why I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. And, well, maybe we can help each other out." The woman sat on the end of the sofa and looked down at Derek as he took a shaky breath and continued to crawl across the floor, "Yes, your sister was severed into pieces and used as bait to try and catch you.. Unpleasant." She tutted, "And, frankly, a little too Texas Chainsaw Massacre for my taste, but quite true." She laughed again, "Now, here's the part that might really kick you in your balls — We didn't kill her."

Derek finally pulled himself up into a seated position at the end of the room and leaned against the wall. He glared up at the woman as the muscles in his body continued to tremble.

"You think I'm lying?" The woman asked, her eyes wide in faux surprise.

"Wouldn't be the first time." Derek choked out as his body shook.

"Sweetie," The woman said the word mockingly, coming to stand at the end of the room and crouching down in front of him, "Well, why don't you just listen to my heart and tell me if I am, okay?" She leaned into his space until she could speak directly into his ear, "We. Didn't. Kill. Your. Sister.. D'you hear that? No little blips or upticks. Just the steady beat of the cold hard truth."

Amber took another large shaky breath in through her nose, the exhale puffing out over the backs of her fingers where they covered her mouth. Her calves and thighs were beginning to ache from crouching in the cramped broom closet for so long and the resigned look on Derek's face made her chest feel tight.

The woman's lips spread into an eerie grin as she rose to stand above Derek, "They found bite marks on your sister's body, Derek. What d'you think did that? A mountain lion?" She laughed, "Why aren't we helping each other out? You might as well admit what you've been guessing all along which is; The Alpha killed your sister." She stated unsympathetically with a tilt of her head, "All you have to do is tell me who he is and we'll take care of it for you. Problem solved. Everybody goes home happy."

The woman paused with a smile, as if waiting for a response. Derek took slow even breaths but didn't respond to her, his eyes cast down to the dusty floor.

"Unless.." The woman said with a look of surprise, "You don't know who he is either." She chuckled in astonishment, shaking her head, "Wow. Guess who just became totally useless?"

As quickly as the question left her mouth, the woman pulled out a large gun that Amber hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Derek rolled to the side and dashed out of the way just as the woman pulled the trigger, releasing a rapid-fire stream of bullets.

Amber muffled a frightened noise with the hand over her mouth and Derek ran through the front door and out of the house, avoiding the area near the hall closet to protect the girl from getting caught in the line of fire.

The moment that Derek was gone, the woman sighed woefully and dropped the gun to her side. She made her way over to the men she'd brought with her, giving each of them a swift kick and ordered them to get up. Both men groaned in pain but did as she instructed, pulling themselves to their feet slowly.

"Well, that was a bust." The woman said in disappointment.

"What if Chris finds out we disobeyed him and came here?" One of the men asked, brushing himself off as the group slowly made their way to the front door.

"He won't." The woman told them, "And besides, we didn't kill him. Just.. Played with him a little."

Amber leaned toward the hole in the wall to watch them leave and waited, taking slow shaky breaths. She counted to three hundred before easing open the closet door and cautiously stepping out. Her hands trembled as she took careful steps toward the front door and when she reached the open doorway, she looked around the property warily, checking to be sure they were truly gone.

Both hearing and seeing nothing, she let out an anxious breath she'd been holding.

It was entirely possible that Derek had been on to something when he told her it was dangerous for her to keep coming around.

It didn't mean that she planned to listen to him — Just, it was possible that he wasn't totally incorrect.

"Hey, it's me again-" Amber said into her phone after going straight to Stiles' voicemail for the third time, "Look, I don't know if you're ignoring me because you're mad that I ditched you earlier or if you're on another call or what. Just-" Amber sighed, flopping down onto her bed, "I don't know if Scott's talked to you but I still can't get a hold of him. So, anyway, I'm going to go to the parent-teacher thing with Jason. Gonna see if I can talk to him there." She told Stiles through the tiny speaker, "Right. Just, call me or text me when you get this. Bye."

There was a sudden loud knocking and Amber flinched in surprise as her bedroom door was pushed open, sitting up in bed to find her brother standing in the doorway.

"Hey, you about ready to head out?" He asked her.

"Yeah, let me just grab a sweatshirt." She told him, walking over to the closet and pulling out a large gray hoodie that had almost definitely belonged to Stiles at some point.

"You know you don't even have to go to this thing, right? Your grades are really good." Jason pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Amber pulled the zip-up sweatshirt on over her tank top and brushed past him to head downstairs, "I know. But Scott has to go. I wanna talk to him about something and he's not answering his phone."

"Alright," Jason conceded as they reached the front door, "But I guess if you're coming with, I might as well show you now-"

"Show me what?" Amber asked in confusion, following him outside.

Instead of heading toward the old pickup truck that was parked on the side of the driveway, he led her to the closed garage door. Amber's heart thumped nervously in anticipation as she watched her brother pull open the large rolling door. When the garage door went up and out of the way, it revealed an absolutely hideous AMC Pacer — nearly identical to the one their dad had purchased in the seventies and had still owned when the two of them were kids. It was a ridiculous sunshine yellow and the metal was lightly rusted at the bottom and it looked so much like the one that their dad had driven them around in for the first several years of her life.

"Oh, my god." Amber finally choked out.

Her eyes welled with tears at the memories that cropped up of their dad picking them up from school. The memories of their mom complaining loudly about how much she hated the ugly car and the way things were always falling out of the backseat because, for some reason, the passenger door was built different from the one on the driver's side. The memories of Jason sitting in the back beside her and reading a comic book, flipping it around as he finished each page to show his sister his favorite parts.

Amber took a shaky breath, "It looks just like dad's."

"It is dad's," Jason revealed, stepping up behind her and putting a hand on the back of her head, "Or, it was. He sold it to that older couple over on Beacon Lake, remember?" When she nodded weakly he continued, "Well, turns out they're both eighty now and the husband finally lost his license. He sold it back to me for almost nothing."

"You bought dad's car back?" Amber finally pulled her eyes away from the vehicle and turned to face her brother.

"Yeah, bud. It's yours, if you want it."

"I want it," She said quickly, her head snapped back and forth between Jason and the car, "I want it. Oh my god."

Her brother laughed, pulling a small keychain out of his pocket and handing it to her, "It's yours."

She took the keys with wide eyes, her hands shaking as she gripped them tight.

"It's manual, though. So, you're gonna need to practice driving stick shift." He warned her.

"Stiles tried to teach me in the Jeep once," She told him, "I did okay, I think."

"Alright, well, why don't you drive us to the school and we'll see how good of a teacher your friend Stiles is." Jason grinned, walking to the driver's side door and holding it open for her.

Amber bit down on her lip and made a small excited noise, ducking into the car and onto the stained tan seat, sliding behind the wheel. Her fingertips traced over everything she could see; the ancient radio knobs, the cigarette lighter, the gear shift behind the steering wheel, the speedometer that only reached ninety miles an hour.

She was going to drive her car to the parent-teacher conferences, track down Scott, and figure everything out.

When Amber finally located Ms. McCall outside of the school, the woman was standing by herself, watching the parking lot like a hawk, and Amber deflated slightly as she approached.

"No Scott yet?" Amber asked.

"Have you talked to him?" Ms. McCall asked immediately, checking the phone in her hand as if it might've gone off without her noticing, "I should be in there already but I can't get a hold of him."

Amber attempted a reassuring smile, "I'm sure he'll be here any minute. I'll wait for him out here and I'll send him in the second I see him." She promised.

Scott's mom looked like she wanted to argue, but then she watched the last of the other parents trickle into the school and sighed, "Okay. But, send him straight in. I mean it, Amber."

"I'll send him straight in," Amber promised, "I'll even give him a kick in the ass for being late."

Ms. McCall cracked a smile before agreeing and heading inside as the doors were closing behind the final group of adults.

Amber sat down on the stairs outside the building, bouncing her knee impatiently as she waited for Scott to show up. She sat restlessly, fiddling with the strings on her hoodie and shaking her leg in anticipation. She waited for over an hour, eventually turning sideways to lean back against the cement that held the guard rail.

As more time passed, she began to lose hope. Her stomach dropped sadly when she heard the school doors creak open again after nearly two hours. Parents filed back out of the building and at the front of the pack, she spotted Mr. Argent and a woman she figured had to be Allison's mom.

"Allison. Answering your cell phone will make discussing the terms of your grounding much easier." Amber heard Allison's dad say angrily into his phone, "Well, call me back before your punishment reaches Biblical proportions."

"Kate hasn't heard from her either," Mrs. Argent told him worriedly as they descended the stairs.

Amber scrambled to her feet as the couple reached where she was and winced at the chill in her backside from sitting on the cold ground for so long, sighing at the realization that Scott was still with Allison.

Ms. McCall put a hand on Amber's shoulder as she passed and the woman went to stand in front of the Argents at the bottom of the staircase, "Excuse me, you're not Allison's parents, are you?" She asked, "I'm Scott's mom, and I hate to say it, but he's not answering his phone either."

"You're his mother?" Chris Argent said judgmentally.

Amber took a defensive step forward to stand beside Ms. McCall but the woman responded before she could cut in, "Funny, how you say that like it's an accusation."

"Well, I wouldn't claim it as a source of pride since he basically kidnapped my daughter today." He said gruffly.

"Hey-" Amber said in anger, quieting when Mrs. McCall put a hand on her shoulder.

"How do we know skipping school wasn't your daughter's idea?" She asked defensively.

Mr. Argent glared, "My daughter-" He started loudly, cutting off as he caught sight of something behind them and sighing, "-Is right there."

Ms. McCall immediately turned and rushed toward the parking lot. Amber caught sight of her brother exiting the school and she held up a hand in signal for him to give her a minute, when he nodded and pulled out his phone, she turned to follow behind Scott's mom with wide eyes.

"Where exactly have you been?" Amber heard Ms. McCall yell as the girl approached the group.

"Nowhere, mom." Scott responded quietly.

"Nowhere meaning, 'not at school,'" His mom clarified angrily.

"I- Kinda." He told her.

"It's not his fault," Allison defended, "It's my birthday and we were-"

The girl was cut off when her dad reached them and pointed sternly to the back of the parking lot, "Allison. In the car."

Suddenly, there was a shrill scream from the other side of the parking lot and Amber's stomach dropped, immediately looking at Scott with wide eyes. He met her gaze with a matching expression of uneasiness.

People quickly began yelling and rushing around the parking lot, proceeding to get more frantic as the seconds passed. No one was sure what was happening, but fear spurred them on and people rushed to their cars, some tearing out of the parking lot quickly to get away from an unseen threat.

Scott began to wander away from the group and Amber followed behind him with a hand gripping his jacket, "Is the Alpha here?" She asked quietly.

"I don't know." He told her, tilting his head as he listened through the chaos around them.

Another scream sounded out loudly above the murmuring shouts and Amber flinched, releasing Scott from her hold. When she heard her name being called, she spotted Jason standing at their yellow car on the other side of the lot and he waved to her urgently but she held up her hand again, pleading with him to give her another minute.

There was a growl in the distance and Amber flinched again at the sound, though it didn't resemble the one she remembered from the night before. In the mayhem, she realized that she'd lost Scott, her friend no longer beside her, and she wandered forward, eyes alert as she searched for him.

"Allison!" Amber heard him yell from several yards away.

Amber rose onto her toes to watch as Scott pulled Allison out of the way of a car that was barreling through the parking lot, managing to save her only a second before she would have been hit.

Amber's heart thumped painfully beneath her ribs with adrenaline and the yelling around her only seemed to get louder with each second that passed.

There was another animalistic growl, louder this time, closer, and Amber gasped and spun around as she heard whatever it was dash past where she was standing between two parked cars. When she looked up, she spotted Sheriff Stilinski standing just to the other side of the vehicle beside her.

"Move!" He yelled at the group that was forming around the parked cars as he went to head in the direction the animal had gone.

Amber ran forward in time with her friend's father. As they reached the back of the car, she noticed the tail lights come on and her eyes went wide, reaching out toward Stiles' dad and giving him a small shove just as the car tore out of the spot in reverse and backed into her. She was slammed back several feet and down onto the pavement but the car managed to come to a stop before it could run her over entirely.

"Amber!" Mr. Stilinski yelled worriedly, "What were you thinking, kid? You okay?"

There was another loud growl in the distance and Amber's heart beat loudly in her ears while Stiles' dad grabbed her with one hand in hers and another on her waist as he pulled her to her feet.

Her elbow hurt from the fall and her left hip throbbed painfully where the car had rammed into her, but she didn't feel any serious injuries, "I-I'm fine." She told him breathlessly.

The man's eyes flicked back and forth between her hazel ones before he nodded and stepped back, looking around them at the ever growing chaos. Amber watched him reach down toward his shoe and pull a small gun from a holster he had hidden beneath his jeans at his ankle.

Just as quickly as he'd pulled out his weapon, there were two loud echoing gunshots from the other side of the parking lot. Mr. Stilinski covered Amber's head with his hand and pushed her down for cover as the girl let out a quiet yelp in fear.

A few moments later, Jason sprinted up to them and pulled Amber toward him. When his hand pushed on her hip she cried out at the tender spot and his eyes widened further, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I-"

"She got hit by a car." Mr. Stilinski told him over her head.

"What!" Jason asked frantically, "We should go to the hospital-"

"We don't need to go to the hospital. They just bumped me, I'm fine." She assured both men, looking between them, "I'm probably getting a bruise already, but I'm fine." She focussed on Jason, "But the gunshots- What-"

"The mountain lion," Jason told her, "It was wandering around the parking lot and someone shot it."

"I- A mountain lion?" She asked in surprise.

"Yeah," He said, "Probably the same one that killed that guy and scared you last night."

Amber looked between the men, seeing the relief on her brother but a look of confused disbelief on Mr. Stilinski that she was sure matched her own. Before she could say anything else, Jason thanked Stiles' dad for his help and pulled her under the safety of his arm, guiding her back toward the car.

"I feel like this should go without saying, but I don't think you should drive the car for a couple days," Her brother told her as they reached the yellow vehicle, directing her toward the passenger side with a gentle push.

Amber sighed but nodded, wincing when she bumped her sore elbow as she climbed into the car.

As her brother drove them home, she couldn't help but think how unlikely a coincidence it was for a mountain lion to wander into town and get killed while the Alpha remained conveniently out of sight.

Amber clicked Stiles' contact to call him the second she closed her bedroom door. She propped the phone in the crook between her shoulder and her ear as she attempted to peel off her tight jeans painfully. She was pulling on a tiny pair of shorts that had a loose waistband as he picked up.

"Amber, hey!" Stiles said casually, "Sorry I didn't get your calls earlier, I was trying to get a hold of Scott."

He sounded normal, which meant his father most likely hadn't gotten home to talk to him yet. Amber sighed as she sat at her desk and pulled out the Algebra II homework she'd yet to start.

"Don't worry about it." She paused, gnawing on her lower lip.

"So, did you talk to Scott at the parent-teacher thingy?" Stiles asked her after a moment.

"Uh, yeah, kind of," She said, "We, uh, didn't really get much of a chance to talk before all hell broke loose though."

"Hell? What hell?" Stiles asked, "What happened?"

"Mountain lion." She told him, "An actual mountain lion this time. It just showed up in the parking lot and everyone was screaming and panicking and it was... Insane."

Stiles seemed to have too much he wanted to say, releasing a series of small aborted noises on the other line before he spoke, "Wh- Well, what happened?"

"Well, everyone was running around terrified. It was just stalking between cars and growling and then your dad almost got hit by a car-" Stiles released a horrified noise and she continued quickly, "He didn't get hit." She reassured him before adding in a quiet voice, "I did."

"What! Amber I sw-"

"I'm fine!" She said for what felt like the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours, "Apparently Chris Argent shot the mountain lion, and after that everyone kind of calmed down and we all went home."

"Okay, we can circle back to the mountain lion- You got run over by a car?" Stiles asked her frantically.

"I was not 'run over' by a car," She said with an eye roll, "I was clipped. Tapped. Grazed, if you will."

"You were grazed by a car?" Stiles repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes. I was." Amber confirmed.

"And where the hell was Scott when you were being grazed by said car?" Stiles asked in annoyance.

"He was on the other side of the parking lot. He barely pulled Allison out of the path of another car- I told you, everyone was panicking." Amber explained before sighing, "Anyway, I have a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning so I might miss the beginning of English- I'm not sure yet. I'm hoping it won't take long."

Stiles groaned, "A doctor's appointment? I thought you were only tapped?"

"I was tapped!" She defended, "I couldn't talk Jason out of it though. It was like, his one stipulation for allowing me to go to school tomorrow at all."

She heard Stiles sigh as she mindlessly solved a problem to find the vertical asymptotes of the function in her textbook. When she finished solving the equation and Stiles still hadn't responded, she set down her pencil.

"Look, as much as I appreciate your concern for my well-being, I have like twelve more problems to finish before my Algebra Two homework is done." She told him, "I'm gonna shut my phone off for the night, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"I- Yeah, alright." He agreed reluctantly, "Talk to you tomorrow."

"G'night." She smiled down the phone.

"Night."

The call ended and she powered her phone down with a sigh, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes for a moment. There was a quiet noise behind her and she spun in her chair and jerked, nearly falling out of her seat.

"Jesus- Derek!" She exclaimed as she caught herself on the edge of her desk, "What are you doing here?"

Derek was in her bedroom, casually resting against her windowsill like it was a bench. He had put on clothes since she'd seen him that afternoon and he now wore a dark tshirt beneath his leather jacket.

"Well, I came to make sure you were alright after this afternoon. But from what I just heard, Kate wasn't the only one I needed to worry about almost killing you today." He said, raising his eyebrows at the red splotchy skin that poked out from the places where her tank top had ridden up and beneath her tiny shorts.

"It was an accident." She told him defensively, pulling her shirt down over her hip.

"I heard you tell Stiles you were hit by a car at the school." Derek reminded her.

"Grazed," Amber repeated, "I was grazed by a car. And I'm fine."

Derek shook his head at her and seemed to reluctantly drop the subject. He stood from the windowsill and stepped over to her desk, studying the bulletin board hanging above it and eyeing the many photographs of Scott, Stiles, and herself. He looked at them in silence for a minute before he pursed his lips.

"I also wanted to let you know I'm going to try to train Scott." Derek said before turning to face her.

"Really?" She asked excitedly, "Finally! That's great-"

"Try." Derek repeated, "I'm going to try. I don't know if I even can train a bitten werewolf."

Amber nodded, "As long as you both give each other a chance."

Derek nodded, turning toward the window and making to leave again.

"Wait-" Amber called quietly. Derek had one leg out the window and he turned to face her, "Are you okay?" She asked him, "After earlier. That woman-"

"Kate." Derek told her, "Kate Argent. She's Allison's aunt."

"Kate," Amber repeated, "She- She electrocuted you or tased you or something. And the things she said-"

"I'm fine, Amber." Derek said, "I already told you- I don't need you to worry about me."

"That's not going to stop me from doing it." She murmured softly, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to worry about you, regardless."

Derek seemed slightly stunned, still hovering half inside the window. It took him a moment, but he seemed to recover with a small shake of his head, "Just.. Be safe." He told her.

He ducked his head around the open window to leave and jumped to the ground, landing silently in the grass beneath Amber's window.

"You too." She mumbled to the empty windowsill after a few seconds.

#stiles #stilesfic #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien fanfic #selenophiles #stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf fic #1x05 #*

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hellameyers · 3 months ago

Text

S1E2 - "Second Chance at First Line"

This episode picks up right where the first episode ended. Scott walks into the locker room in a daze because he just found out the hunter, who shot him with an arrow the other night, was Allison's dad. He freaks out, but Stiles snaps him out of it and gives him a bit of a pep talk to focus on Lacrosse for now. One thing at a time.

At practice, Jackson continues to antagonize Scott and knocks him down, bringing him down a peg. Jackson is trying to assert his dominance, tries to proves that he's the big man on campus because he can't handle not being number one, especially to someone he considers to be beneath him, like Scott. But Scott gets back up. Coach makes him do it again, provoking him by teasing him. So the wolf comes out a bit and he takes Jackson down, hurting his shoulder.

The problem is Scott can't control his shift, so Stiles ushers him to the locker room while the others check on Jackson. Scott attacks Stiles, but Stiles is able to hold him off before stopping him with a fire extinguisher. Scott asks what happened, too lost in his wolf to be present. Stiles tried to reason with him after Scott tried to kill him. He says that Scott needs to work on his anger. It's a trigger, it raises his pulse, and it leads him to shift. But that's what Lacrosse is all about. So Stiles argues that Scott can't play the game.

He's still hung up on playing, though. He's convinced that if he doesn't do one thing, like play the game, he's going to lose Allison and this perfect life he created for himself. And he keeps finding evidence to support his own misbelief.

Lydia threatens him after hearing the rumor that he's sitting out. She dangles Allison over his head and manipulates him into playing by saying she'll introduce him to all the hot players and he'll just be a loser in comparison.

His mom says she's taking off work to go, so he feels guilty because they can't afford for her to take the time.

Derek even sneaks into Scott's room and threatens Scott not to play in the game. Because if he shifts and hurts or kills someone he runs the risk of exposing not only himself but Derek. Then they won't have to worry solely about hunters because everyone will want to kill them. So, if he tries to play, Derek will kill him.

Lots threats, but nobody gives him any solid advice or help. So, Scott takes things into his own hands.

After he finds out that Derek gave Allison her jacket back, Scott freaks out. He tells her Derek isn't actually his friend and asks her a million questions. She walks away from him, upset. Maybe she thinks he's being jealous and controlling. I think that's a safe assumption. Anyway, she's not having it.

Scott goes to the Hale House and warns Derek off Allison, says she doesn't know anything. Whether he meant about werewolves or about hunters, or even about everything, is not explained. Derek suggests that maybe she does. Derek tries to level with Scott, says he's looking out for him, and Stiles can't just Google all the answers for him, he needs actual help. Unfortunately, Scott and Derek haven't talked about actual solutions. Derek is trying to scare him into compliance, but Scott is a teenager who wants to rebel against the person who tells him he can't do something. It's clear, to me, neither of them really know what they're doing or how to move forward.

While he's there, Scott smells blood and sees disturbed earth behind the house. He's determined to get Derek out of the picture so he can play in the game, so he enlists Stiles. They go to the hospital, and Scott gets a sniff of the other half of the body so he can be sure it's the same. He's convinced and also disturbed by the wounds.

In the meantime, Stiles tries to chat up Lydia but fails because she's actually on her phone's headset on a call and wasn't even listening to him. An interesting illustration to show how far apart they are in status, sure. But Lydia is seen as this unattainable girl. And she's carefully put herself there on that pedestal. In my opinion, Stiles, in a way, is actually better than her in that moment, in that he's actually being completely himself and being vulnerable. While she's got a long way before, she's even on his level.

Stiles stops Scott and makes sure his friend is doing this for the right reasons. Is he trying to stop a murderer, or is he stopping Derek because he told Scott not to play in the game? Scott tells Stiles what he found, and that convinces Stiles he's serious about stopping a murderer.

Which, side note, neither of them actually know to be true, they're both just going on Scott's mistrust of Derek here.

While I do believe that Scott cares about stopping who he believes to be a killer, he's still a typical teenager, and he wants to do the thing that he thinks will win the girl, and make him cool, and make his life feel normal. So it's a definite win-win for him.

They go to dig up the body, but Scott senses something has changed. There's a joke here from Stiles that if Derek catches them, they run in opposite directions, and whoever he catches, oh well. It's funny because it illustrates that they still haven't planned any of this out other than catching a scent and grabbing a shovel.

They don't get caught by Derek, but they find the body is actually a wolf. Stiles, with his keen eye, sees Wolfsbane flower that he recognizes from all his research and realizes it's tied to a rope that creates a spiral around the gravesite (we get insight on the spiral in later episodes). They remove it, and the body changes to a woman.

When the cops come and arrest Derek, Stiles sneaks into the cop car when they're occupied with the crime scene. Stiles asks him about the girl, how she was able to be an actual wolf. He's clearly fascinated by all of it.

May I add the body language and the looks scream that something else is going on there. Whether you read into that, like some have, that Derek and Stiles are attracted to each other is one thing. Maybe that's possible. I feel that Derek is getting a read off Stiles, his scent, his heartbeat, etc. He's looking between his eyes, his mouth, his chest, and he's analyzing him. I'm curious to know what exactly he senses about Stiles there 🤭

Anyway, Derek, once again, doesn't deny allegations, which makes him look suspicious to Stiles and the audience. Although, why would he need to prove himself to a couple teens who already made up their minds about him. Maybe he's too exhausted, or he doesn't care enough or trust them enough to be vulnerable with them.

Derek redirects the conversation and tells Stiles he shouldn't be worried about Derek. He should be worried about Scott and what will happen if he shifts on the field. Derek can't stop Scott from playing, but maybe Stiles can.

It's short lived because the Sheriff pulls his son out of the car. As he questions Stiles about how they discovered this whole plot, Stiles inadvertently admits he lied and Scott was with him the night of the search when Stiles was caught. His father, exasperated with his son, this seems like their normal dynamic, he let's him go, for now.

Scott makes a point that Stiles is liking the werewolf stuff way too much, and Scott can't even stand him saying the word anymore. Sure, he was affected by the wolfsbane that Stiles kept in his backpack, but they're good points.

Stiles just discovered something new to hyperfixate on, which he is wont to do. So that's valid, but also unfair. Although he's enjoying everything he discovers, he's using the knowledge to help his friend. But it seems Scott is unable to see this yet.

Scott clearly hates being a werewolf, which is understandable, so far it's been dangerous and an inconvenience to Scott, plus he never asked for it. That's valid. Then again, he does love the effects when it suits him. Until he's rudely confronted with this reality, seeing his wolfy reflection in Allison's window.

Argent hits Scott with his car in his retreat from Allison's house. He's incredibly apologetic but also a little skeptical that Scott isn't more hurt. The wheels are turning. Allison comes to his rescue, and Argent is suspicious for another reason. He realizes his daughter likes this kid and goes full father mode, promising that he's going with Allison to the game.

At the game, Stiles tries to reason with Scott that nothing will fall apart if he misses one game. He's not going to lose Allison, he can play again once they get things figured out. But Scott is determined to play.

Throughout the whole game, Scott is constantly triggered into anger. Jackson with his plan to keep the ball away from Scott, frustrates him. Lydia using Allison to help her hold signs cheering on Jackson pokes at Scott. Even Jackson at one point slams into Scott to catch the ball. The team is losing but Jackson has ordered the team as their captain not to pass to Scott.

Scott has gotten under Jackson's skin so bad that Jackson has deluded himself that he could win even while injured without Scott, even with clear evidence that they're going to lose. His desire to control Scott and make himself better than Scott is stronger than his own drive to win.

Scott gets so mad that he steals the ball away and ends up scoring the last 3 points to win the game seconds before the buzzer. The problem is that he can't pull the shift back again. He runs off to the locker room. Allison comes to him and we find that Allison is the key to calming Scott. They kiss, it's sickeningly sweet.

Then Stiles comes in, but he tries to duck out when he finds Scott is alright. He tries to give Scott a moment, with "we'll talk later", but Scott insists he talk to him now. Stiles drops the bomb that the evidence of the case shows bite marks and wolf hair. They determined it was an animal that killed the girl, not Derek. Derek is free. And the girl, yeah, she's Derek's sister Laura Hale.

They process this. I feel Scott surely still thinks Derek is the murderer but is trying to work out why or how Derek would kill his own sister. While it's likely Stiles might be rethinking Derek as the murderer. But that's my own speculation with knowing Stiles fairly well. But he did say, previously, there might be a whole pack of werewolves out there. Just because they've only seen Derek doesn't mean he's the only one. Maybe Stiles is starting to think that way.

The episode ends with Jackson finding Scott's discarded glove. He notices the claw marks at each fingertip. As he tries to wrap his head around what this can mean, he sees Derek watching him from the treeline. It's all very ominous.

Derek knows that Scott played the game, yet Scott is still alive. Perhaps because Derek's threat was empty. Maybe Derek let it slide because Scott didn't hurt anyone or expose their secret. I don't know if any of these thoughts truly get an answer, but I feel they're good questions. And we know Derek will have his eyes on Jackson now to make sure he doesn't talk.

#hella's Teen Wolf Rewatch #second chances were had #observations and analysis #just my two cents #teen wolf

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sapphire-weapon · 1 year ago

Note

You said that part of the fun of old fandom was making backstories for the characters. did you have one for Leon? what was it?

oh boy. this feels so... self-indulgent and cringey now in modern-day fandom, after having dedicated so much time to arguing what is or isn't canon and having to explain multiple times, at great lengths, that the mafia backstory is not canon and why it's not. my brain is just like "shut up and just be glad that people are starting to listen to you at all."

I've mentioned a few of them here and there sporadically over the past few months, so some of these are going to sound very familiar to people who have been following me for a while, but

this is basically the backstory I've come up with for Leon and have been using for mmmm around 20 years, give or take (though I tweaked some slight things to account for Remake Leon, which I'll also note):

● grew up in a suburb around the Hartford, CT area

● only child

● very religious/uptight Catholic mom, dad was basically Mike Cosgrove from Freakazoid

● like seriously, the personalities of his parents couldn't be more different, to the point where it almost doesn't make sense to anyone on the outside looking in how they ended up together at all. but his mom really loves how stable and grounded her husband is and appreciates his really awful sense of humor, and dad fell in love with his wife's cooking and the way she actually laughs at his jokes and the fact that she really believes in something greater than herself -- because he doesn't, and he wishes he did. they also share a taste in music, surprisingly.

● "Scott" is a family name, but Leon's dad was already "the third" and he was like "you really wanna put this kid through being 'the fourth'? that's stupid. just make it his middle name." Leon has never told a single person in his adult life this, but his parents and his very early childhood friends (up until about middle school) actually called him "Scottie" -- because "Scott" was his dad. (yes this headcanon was born directly from how funny I find the whole "Mr. Scott Kennedy" shit in OG RE4 and I'm not sorry) mom's name is Carol.

● mom was a middle school geography teacher (and CCD teacher). dad was a cop (he was bASICALLY COSGROVE)

● was always closer with his dad than his mom, despite the fact that his mom very clearly and very desperately wanted him to be a mama's boy. it wouldn't be quite correct to say that his mom was emotionally abusive, but she definitely didn't Get Him and very rarely actually listened to what he had to say -- she had a pre-constructed image in her head of the kind of person she wanted him to be, and anything that didn't fit that image was either questioned or ignored outright. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: this was even worse for Remake Leon, who has a lot more self-awareness than his OG counterpart and started to suspect that he may not be fully straight pretty early in life, even if his conservative upbringing didn't give him the language to express what, exactly, he was feeling. he had a crush on a boy once, vaguely mentioned it in a very roundabout way to his mom, and then spent the next like 10 years convinced he was going to hell. see here for a more in-depth explanation of how I view Leon's sexuality.) dad gave far less of a shit about who his kid was, so long as he wasn't doing dumb shit to get himself in trouble or arrested or something. as a result, Leon's really stupid sense of humor came from his dad, because they did spend a decent amount of time together. the two of them + Leon's uncle (dad's brother), who was maybe a little bit off his rocker, always went hunting once a year.

● was never super religious like his mom is, but still definitely believed. didn't pray regularly -- but prayed enough. he can pinpoint the exact moment that he lost his faith, though: when, while in Raccoon City, he first considered suicide -- and he realized that he was looking not to God for salvation, but to his gun. even as an adult, he won't outwardly classify himself as an atheist, but his general feelings towards God and faith are: "if God is up there, He's not listening anymore."

● wasn't ever super popular in school, but was never an outcast loser nerd, either. he was just kind of... there. he had his own little circle of skater kid/grungecore and metalhead friends, and they just kind of did their own thing.

● didn't actually start to get hot until senior year of high school and kind of thought that people were taking the piss when they started looking at him differently after he'd been so completely ignored as a dating/sexual prospect for so long. plus he had a girlfriend by then, and they'd been together for a while, so he didn't really think too hard about how other people were looking at him, anyway.

● he and his long-term high school girlfriend broke up before they both went off to college, mutually, just because they were going to different schools. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: OG Leon lost his virginity to that girlfriend at age 16; Remake Leon didn't. the Remake version of his girlfriend was too prudish to go all the way, but third base was a familiar friend.) this was to the great relief of the girlfriend's dad, who fucking hated Leon's guts and frequently told him that he would never marry his daughter (and once chased him out of the house with a shotgun, but that's a different story).

● played lacrosse in high school. didn't love it, mostly did it to put on college applications. actually wanted to play football, but his mom was adamant about not allowing him to (AND SHE WAS SUPER RIGHT HOLY SHIT DON'T LET YOUR KIDS PLAY AMERICAN FOOTBALL).

● dabbled in some arts stuff here and there in high school and college, but never in a serious way and never for any great length of time. he was more of a math nerd than anything else. but he spent like, half of a school year involved with the lit mag and, despite being a not terrible poet and short story author due to having an inherently romantic nature, dropped it pretty fast out of disinterest. tried being involved with the school paper, dropped that within a year due to disinterest. thought about picking up the guitar because some of his friends were musicians, but never committed to it. the only thing that ever stuck was an interest in film; he spent a decent amount of time in the A/V club and really enjoyed the editing process. probably would've majored in it in college if not for his far greater interest in criminal justice, so he just kept doing it on the side for fun. took some electives for it in college, at the very least, and worked on some student films. mostly horror films, which is ironic to him in hindsight.

● did not go into criminal justice because of his dad; it's just a coincidence that he ended up being interested in the same field that his dad worked. Leon has always had a problem with bullies and was that guy in high school who inserted himself into situations that didn't involve him, just to stand up for someone else. got in only a handful of fist fights as a result of this, and the extent of the scolding from his dad was "knock it off. quit screwin around. you screw around too much." in the most non-committal, "don't actually stop though" tone possible, followed by taking him to get burgers. his mom lost her mind any time he got sent home from school for fighting, though -- and the one time he actually ended up suspended was Literal Hell for that full week. but, either way -- for him, growing up with a very positive opinion of law enforcement to begin with, criminal justice seemed like a natural fit.

● beyond the few times he got in trouble for fighting (in fights he never started and always won), the worst trouble he ever got into was that time his mom found out that he and his friends snuck beer into a Green Day concert in 1994. that was also the first time she learned that her 17-year-old son was already drinking. he got grounded until graduation.

● overall was just a pretty good kid, though. constantly on honor roll. graduated college with a 3.7 GPA.

● mostly behaved in college, too, but he definitely went out and partied when he didn't have anything school-related to worry about. OG Leon partied way more frequently and way harder than Remake Leon did, though. OG Leon dragged his dick all over campus. Remake Leon had maybe a handful of drunken hookups (that still never actually got him laid) and spent most parties being that guy who was taking care of his much drunker friends. catch Remake Leon standing over one of his friends who has their face planted in the sand at a beach party like "hey man. you good? we can't leave yet. I gotta finish this beer." Remake Leon also made an excellent wingman.

● after getting hired at the RPD but before actually able to move out there (in late August, roughly), he did go out to Raccoon City to try to land an apartment so that he'd be ready once he actually did move. he filmed most of that week-long trip in a sort of self-documentary style and edited it all together with the intention of giving it to his parents before he left, in case they started to miss him -- so that they could see where he was and who he'd likely be hanging around with and all that stuff, because he is a Good Boy. he ultimately never finished the very last part of it because of the phone call he got to stay away from the city a week prior to his move, and he soon forgot he'd ever made something like that at all. his mom found it a few months later while cleaning up his room, which she did frequently as a grief response "so that it'll be ready for him when he comes home."

● to date, Leon's family and friends from back home think he died in Raccoon City. the CIA kept a tight leash on where he went and who he spoke to for the first four years of his captivity -- he basically didn't get freedom to live his own life until after Operation Javier. by the time he had the ability to call or visit home, he felt like it was too late -- that it'd be crueler to show up out of the blue after being "dead" for so long -- especially considering that he couldn't stay in their lives. he'd basically just be showing up to say "hey not dead" and then have to disappear again. so he just sort of... let it go. though, of all of the terrible things he's done in the time since then, this is the one thing that weighs heaviest on his conscience -- the one thing that he feels guiltiest about most often. but he continues to stay away, because he has nothing kind to say about the life he's lived or the man he's become. even if he were to go home now, he's convinced that his parents would not recognize their son.

● he doesn't know this, but there is an upright grave marker for him in a cemetery in his hometown dated 1977-1998. buried there is an empty casket with only a framed photo of him. his parents still lay flowers there twice a year: once on his birthday and once on the anniversary of Raccoon City's destruction.

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy #typing up some of this was kind of embarrassing and idk why #but thank u for the ask anon #my new D drive won't be coming in until wednesday so #i have nothing but time to answer long asks like this after work #pls keep sending them

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theheightofdishonor · 2 years ago

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ugh that ask really did have me thinking about the sheriff and how much i cannot stand that man.

like i'm generally very very lenient with characters that only care about one or a couple people. especially when the people they care for are ones that i also care for like stiles in this instance. but with sheriff stilinski, i just can not. It's a mixture of

a) the hypocrisy

b) that he's leveraging the law against characters I like (listen, if he was throwing peter into a prison cell, that's one thing. but it's not, it's kira.)

c) the whole white male cop that actively abbets his white male son's multiple crimes while crucifying everyone else thing is too close to reality for me.

and d) as an extension of the above, the way that teen wolf gives him a leniency that it doesn't allow any of the other parents in the narrative because of the color of his skin and his gender. And mind you, I tend to stay out of conversations around fandom racism because i don't come here to reflect on how fandom and media are extensions of issues i face irl. However in certain instances like this, it's impossible to avoid discussing that sheriff stilinski is given grace by the narrative. The way that he (and Chris) are allowed to single-mindedly protect his son and not be condemned by the narrative when Victoria and Lydia's mom are both seen as wrong for it, when Noshiko is needlessly rendered powerless. It's how we get to see Melissa care about Stiles as her own time and time again and Stilinski never extends that concern to Scott, or Lydia, or any of Stiles's friends or even Melissa who's his friend. The sheriff is allowed to take unsavory actions to protect his own but Noshiko and Ken, who have been fully informed about the supernatural world for ages, one of whom is a nine tailed kitsune, isn't allowed to do so. It's the same way that we never get insights into Boyd or Erica or Mason's families but we learn about Isaac's father. How we get an entire season of Argent family history and tons about the Hales and nothing about the McCalls. It's about how the dream sequence gave us meaningful looks into Lydia and Stiles's families and then that random thing with Roxy for Scott when the circumstances around Rafael leaving was right there for the picking, and just as important to his character as Stiles's or Lydia's mothers were to them (-don't argue with me about this, i understand that a lot of you have have analyzed that scene to hell and back and rendered some meaning out of it and while i appreciate the effort, we simply disagree on this scene)

Anyway I just wanted to rant a little bit because that ask had me thinking about it. And now i'd rather not think about it so I might just mute the notifs on that ask.

Ofc if you like stilinski, good for you, i really don't care, don't come into my inbox about it, please and thank you.

#teen wolf #anti sheriff stilinski #i apologize in advance if you came across this in his tags and didn't want to #however i do like keeping my original posts tagged

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praline-elegy · 4 months ago

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Sry I’m new to this fandom (fence) rly but I have a few of these:

#4-Kyle

#6-Harvard

#7-Thomas

#9-Nate

#10-Jesse

#11-Sungchul

#12-Marcel

#16&17-Scott

#20-Nicholas with seiji

Anon is requesting headcanons from this prompt meme.

4 - Driving: Kyle crosses me as the kind of person to be cocky and for good reason. I think he’d get his driver’s license as soon as he turned 16 and actually be a good driver. I could also see him as the type to test well when getting his learner’s permit, but suddenly be faced with the reality of how scary driving is once he’s behind the wheel. So he’d either be one of the first or very last out of his friends to get his driver’s license (but still first for the learner’s permit).

6 - Hugging: Harvard crosses me as either really awkward or really generous with hugs. Perhaps generous with friends and awkward with acquaintances? With arms like that there’s no way he wouldn’t give a great hug, but whether he likes to give them really defines the quality of the embrace.

7 - Kissing: I think Thomas would be shy with romantic pda but would be all for it if it was familial (parents or his brother Aster kissing his cheek or forehead). In private, I think he’d love kissing to an embarrassing degree, to the point that he’d turn pink if he got walked in on, even if nothing below the belt was happening. A very shy kiss-fiend if you will.

9 - General physical contact: Nate is a very friendly character, so I think that his welcoming nature translates to his touch. He’s very comfortable with casual physical intimacy. Because of that, I think Nate could get away with being touchy-feely with people he has a crush on (but whether he’s brave enough to is another question). I also think that he suffers a facet of “nice-to-everyone” syndrome, where he’s so casually physical with everyone, the person he crushes on won’t notice the difference because “Nate does this with everyone.”

10 - General physical appearance: Jesse’s aware that he’s conventionally attractive. He knows it and he lives it. He likes his blonde hair and blue eyes, but sometimes he wonders what he’d look like with more of his mom’s features. Everyone tells him that he looks like a copy + paste of his father when Robert was his age, and at first he reveled in that knowledge, but as he got older he felt a bit confined in that image. He’s probably considered dying his hair to match his mom’s in the past, but never quite went through with it. There’s a box of brown dye sitting in the back of his closet that he bought when he was 15. He’s either never told anyone this, or only told Seiji this.

11 - Wardrobe: While I love Sungchul, I don’t have any concrete opinions about his wardrobe. He probably owns a bunch of good quality basics (like egyptian cotton or pure cashmere) and the only graphic tees that he owns are from Halverton or ones that he’s received from participating in sporting events.

12 - Jewelry: I don’t really think about Marcel too much to have thought about it, but he either crosses me as someone who doesn’t wear any, or wears a couple of rings on his fingers.

16 - Anger: Scott’s a very friendly kind of guy so I imagine he’d be the type to have a simmering kind of anger. The quiet kind that doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s really bad. Scott’s emotions often turn to exasperation or frustration rather than anger, so most of his friends (except a select few) have ever seen him mad, and when he is, he’s furious.

17 - Soft spot: Scott has a soft spot for cats. There’s an outdoor cat that often visits his house and Scott has a dedicated pile of cat treats in his pantry for her. He turns into pudding when it comes to her. She hopped onto his back and laid there once while he was doing push-ups and he Did Not Move until she got off (luckily Scott was already laying prone on the ground, otherwise planking for more than two minutes would’ve been miserable). (He’s also pudding for his crush/boyfriend, but I’d also argue that anyone would be soft for the people they love).

20 - Nicholas’ relationship with Seiji: I like to headcanon that Nicholas is touch-starved and the moment that Seiji finds out, he tries to touch Nicholas more often in meaningful ways. A squeeze of the bicep for comfort, shoulders pressing together to acknowledge the other’s presence, massaging the cramp out of Nicholas’ hand after fencing, and then lingering there after the ache is gone. Intimacy in small gentle touches.

#praline answers #fence asks #fenceasks #sorry nate i’m projecting :’)#also i love egyptian cotton it’s so soft and smooth #this is the saddest jesse headcanon i’ve ever come up with 🥹

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wonderstruckocs · 2 years ago

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Wendy Hicks

Age: Scream (2022) - 17, ScreamVI - 18

Love Interest: Kurt Parker (formerly); Ethan Landry

Best Friends: Carrie Riley-Weathers, Tara Carpenter, Mindy Meeks-Martin, Anika Kayoko, Chad Meeks-Martin - Close with Sam Carpenter

Family Member(s): Wes Hicks (brother), Judy Hicks (mother)

Three Songs That Represents Her:

BRAINWASHED by Waterparks (title has no meaning to her storyline - lyrically though it does)

You’re On Your Own, Kid by Taylor Swift

All I Wanted by Paramore

Faceclaim: Olivia Scott Welch

Edit May 12th 2023 this is so highly unedited I am going to be so damn for real but anyways here’s Wennie’s Backstory: As the daughter of Judy Hicks, sister of Wes Hicks, and practically the niece of Dewey Riley, Wendy is a very humorous and charismatic girl who can put up a good fight.

During Scream (2022): During Tara’s attack, Wendy was at home with Wes, Matthew Bishop, and Rebecca Bishop - Wendy’s boyfriend Kurt Parker, calling mere minute before he was suppose to show up saying he suddenly couldn’t make it. The four were watching a 1980s horror film, originally suppose to watch Gremlins but Becca pushed for Prom Night, “Come on Jamie Lee Curtis is a horror icon!”. The next morning Wendy get a call from Judy telling her Tara was attacked by someone in a Ghostface mask, Wendy drops her phone and looks over at Wes. Wes immediately calls Sam, and Wendy calls Carrie Riley-Weathers.

The four of them go to school and are seated at a picnic table outside with the rest of the group talking about Tara’s attack when Kurt walks up to the group and sits next to Wendy. Kurt goes to kiss Wendy, but Wendy turns her face so he kisses her cheek instead. “Baby, what’s up?” Kurt asks her but she just shakes her head. “Trouble in paradise little W?” Amber asks Wendy who just shakes her head, Wes rolls his eyes. Amber points out Kurt’s bruises, “I got these at football practice, ask Chad he has the same ones.”

When the group is visiting Tara at the hospital Carrie shows up around the same time as Sam and Richie, Wendy immediately hugs Carrie - instead of the duo + Becca going to the bar, Carrie offers to drive them home.

At the Meeks-Martin house, during Mindy’s monologue, she accuses Wes and Matt of being the killers - like a Billy and Stu duo, but Wendy and Becca quickly come to their defense and explain how they were there with them that night. “It can’t be them unless it’s all four of us.” “Okay but what about Kurt, Wendy? Where was he during the attack?” “I don’t know.” “Exactly, and where is he now?” “… I don’t know.” “Wendy, darling, you are smart, but never trust the love interest.”

After that, Wendy mentions to Wes that she needs to pick up something from Kurt’s, Wes immediately tells her no and that he doesn’t trust Kurt. Carrie intervenes offering to drive Wendy there and bring her home right after, Wes reluctantly agrees and hugs Wendy telling her he loves her, “Ew, Wes… I love you too.” she tells him as she hugs him. “I’ll see you when you get home.” “Promise?” “I promise.” - A promise Wes intended to keep but couldn’t.

At Kurt’s house, Wendy is only greeted by his mother, “Oh Wendy dear, Kurt’s not home, he said he had football practice.” “But football practice got cancelled because of the attack on Tara… look Mrs. Parker, I’m just here to pick up some of my notes for algebra, can I just run up to his room and grab them?” “Sure, dear.” Wendy ran up to his room and grabbed her notes but noticed a ghostface mask sitting in a pile of dark clothing on the floor. Backing out of the room she bumps into Kurt, “Baby, what are you doing here?” “Just grabbing my… notes…” Wendy was visibly nervous, “Everything alright, baby?” “Yeah, Kurt, everything is fine absolutely fine.” “Do you want to stay the night? You know I could protect you.” “I really should go home, Kurt, my mom and Wes are waiting for me there.”

The two argued some more before Wendy leaves with Carrie… when they arrive at the Hicks house Wendy sees the bodybag in the front and hops out of Carrie’s car (her dad’s old vehicle) running towards the body before Dewey stops her. “No?” Dewey nods his head, “Wes?” Wendy asks through tears, Dewey nods again as Carrie walks up and Wendy’s legs gave out. “Dad, what’s going on?” Carrie looks over to the crew pulling out another body bag, “No…” She looked back at her dad as she holds Wendy, “No. No. NO!”…….”Carrie, take Wendy and go.” “But da-“ “Go Carrie!”

At the party at Amber’s, for Wes, Wendy is distraught the deaths of Judy, Wes, and Dewey all hitting her hard but she, Matt, and Becca decided to go to the party. She runs into Kurt, “Baby, hey let’s have some fun!” “Kurt, I’m really not in the mood.” “Seriously, Wendy, let loose live a little.” “Kurt fuck off.” “Listen, baby, stop being such a crybaby.” “Are you fucking kidding me, Kurt? My mom and brother fucking died and you’re telling me to stop crying. Grow the fuck up, we’re done.” Kurt grabbed her wrist harshly, “Baby, you don’t mean that.” “I’m pretty sure she made it very clear what she means, Kurt.” Matt had stepped in, Wendy doesn’t remember the rest of the fight, opting to walk away as Matt dealt with the problem and grabbing another drink. - Somewhere in there is when Richie stops the party. When walking to the living to sit with Mindy, Wendy sees Ghostface, as Mindy is telling Stab Randy to turn around Wendy is trying to get her attention, going to scream at her to turn around before Matt covers her mouth to stop her from getting the Ghostface’s attention, Becca beside him shaking. They watch as Mindy gets attacked Matt before runs towards the same time Sam scares him off. Matt immediately puts pressure onto Mindy’s wound and Wendy looks around when Liv runs in, everythings a blur to her until Amber shoots Liv in the head. Matt yells at Wendy and Becca to run, as he tries to help Mindy out. The duo ran outside, finding Chad on the ground. “Oh my god, Chad.” Wendy runs over to him, “Wendy, hey.” Chad coughs, “Chad stop talking,” Wendy looks at Chad’s wounds, before pulling off her shirt, “Ha, nice.” “Chad serious shut the fuck up,” Wendy says as she rips her shirt up and tying tourniquets to stop the bleeding, “Becca, put pressure on these I’ll be right back.” “Where are you going?” “I’m going to try to find a fucking medkit and find Matt I can’t let another brother figure die.” As Wendy enters the house, she slowly makes her way upstairs, “God Wendy you fucking dumbass, Wes would so kill you himself if he was here.” Wendy mumbles to herself before opening a closet door, Ghostface waiting for her, Wendy screams and turns to run away before she’s stabbed in the side, “WENDY!” Matt yells running upstairs and throwing Ghostface back into the closet, picking Wendy up and running past Sidney, “DON’T GO UP THERE HE’S UP THERE!” Matt shouts to Sidney who’s on the phone, “Matt where’s Mindy?” “She’s fine, she’s safe.” “Matt don’t lie to me.” “I’m not lying Wendy.” “You’re not working with Amber?” “Wendy why the hell would I be working with Amber?” “I don’t know… We need to get to Chad.” “Get to Chad… where?” “Outside, he was stabbed multiple times… he’s with Becca…” “Wendy keep your eyes open for me, I can’t lose you Wen, Wes will come back from the dead to kill me.” “Hmmm, he’s already gonna kill me…” Wendy’s eyes shut slowly, Wendy doesn’t remember anything else from that night not even arriving to the hospital, but she does remember Sam apologizing to her because Richie had been the one to stab her.

Between Scream (2022) and ScreamVi: Wendy lived with Matt and Becca until she moved with them to New York for college, Wendy and Kurt never got back together but he followed her to New York, Wendy gets roomed with Anika Kayoko and they instantly became friends. Wendy and Quinn Bailey do NOT get along, stemmed from a fight about Taylor Swift and the fact that Quinn briefly dated Becca and broke her heart by cheating on her. She’s still close with Carrie and Gale by proxy. She didn’t officially meet Ethan Landry between the events but they do know of each other, and Wendy did develop a small crush on him, Chad even encouraging her to go for it, “Wen, he’s your type to a T. Like your dream boy manifested into one person, go for it! Talk to him.”

During ScreamVI: Wendy attends the halloween party dressed like Reputation Tour Taylor Swift, immediately finding Mindy and Anika on the couch.

“Wow, Wendy, you look hot.” Anika whistled, “Do I? I feel very perceived right now…” “Where’s Becca and Matt and Carrie?” “Becca didn’t want to risk seeing Quinn.” “Quinn was never gonna come to this party, she knows that” “I know but she still doesn’t want to see her and as for Matt and Carrie they’re hanging out at Carrie’s tonight, studying for some exam…Where’s Chad?” “With Ethan probably doing shots somewhere” Mindy wiggles her eyebrows, “Mind, stop, you know I’ve never had a conversation with him.” “So go talk to him! I know Chad’s been encouraging you to anyways.” Wendy rolled her eyes before walking off, “Have fun but not too much fun Wen!”

Wendy eventually finds Chad and Ethan, “What are you suppose to be, Wendy?” Wendy gasps at Ethan’s question, “Reputation Tour Taylor Swift, Ethan… oh my God don’t tell me you don’t know who Taylor Swift is?” Wendy shuts her eyes, the only red flag to her she’d see in him is if he says yes to her question. “No, I know who she is just have never seen Taylor in an outfit like… that.” Chad smirks at the two of them, the two completely oblivious to it. “Guess I’ll just have to show the tour documentary then.” Wendy smiles at him before sipping her drink. “Yeah… guess you’ll have to.” The two continued their conversation not even realizing Chad had walked off, “Guys, we’ve gotta go.”

On the way to Tara and Sam’s apartment, after Sam was attacked, Ethan and Wendy continue talking, “You okay Wennie?” Ethan asks her, some of whatever drink was thrown at Sam splashing her… “Huh?” “What?” “The nickname… no one’s ever called me Wennie before.” “I-I can stop calling you that if you want, it’s just you’re kind of sickeningly sweet like honey.” “I think it’s cute, Eth.”

Jump skip to at the apartment because I’m becoming lazy writing this: Wendy is sitting next to Ethan, watching the news with the group, Sam’s phone rings and Wendy quietly gasps, “Why is everyone freaking out about her phone ringing?” “Dude, catch up.” “Wennie…” Wendy looks down at her phone to see a text from Kurt, ‘Wendy, I saw the news are you okay?’ “I’m going to be sick.” Wendy quickly got up and ran to the bathroom, calling Matt as she walks.

“Wendy?”

“Matt…” Wendy sobs

“Wen, what’s wrong?”

“You’re with Carrie right?”

“Yes, Wendy tell me what’s going on?”

“You’ve heard from Becca, right?”

“She’s with me, she has been all night. Now Wendy, seriously why are you crying? I thought you went to that halloween party with Chad and the girls.”

“Turn on the news.”

“Wen… I’m coming to get you.”

“No Matt, stay with Carrie and Becca… they need someone to protect them too, I’ll be fine I’m with Chad and Ethan at Tara and Sam’s. I’m safe.”

“You know if anything happens to you W-“

“Wes will come back from the dead and murder you. I know Matt…”

“There’s something else going on isn’t there?”

“… Kurt texted me.”

“I thought you blocked his number?”

“I did, and I never fucking answer him… but he just changes his number and texts me again. It’s exhausting.”

“Just don’t respond Wen.”

“Don’t worry I won’t… I better get back to the group before they start getting worried. Love you like a brother Matt.”

“Love you like a sister Wen… prepare for 200 texts from both Becca and Carrie.”

Wendy giggles before hanging up and leaves the bathroom. “Everything okay?” “Yeah… just needed a minute.” She smiles at Ethan before sitting down next to him again, Chad raises an eyebrow and at her and she mouths “later” before getting comfortable. She listened to the conversations around her as she slowly leaned towards Ethan, his arm slowly making its way around her. She felt a pair of eyes on her and she looked up to see Quinn glaring at her. ‘What the hell is that about?’ Wendy thought to herself.

The next day on Campus, the group is sitting together minus Matt, Becca, and Wendy. “Where’s Wennie?” Ethan asked as he sat, “Who?” Chad questions him. “Wennie… Wendy.” “Oh dude you are so down bad.” Mindy says, “Who’s down bad?” Matt asks. “Chad for Tara.” Anika quickly covers for Ethan and gives him a thumbs up as Matt teases Chad. “Hey.” Ethan says to Wendy as she sits down, “Hey.” Wendy yawns, “Did you get enough sleep last night?” “None actually and class was super boring… I’d rather be anywhere but here right now but Mindy begged me to show up for her horror movie monologue.” “You can nap on my shoulder if you want to, Wennie.” “You sure, Eth?” “Positive.” Wendy slowly started to drift off after her head met his shoulder only to wake up when Ethan mutters out “Am I gonna die a virgin?” Wendy’s eyes opening and she looks up at him like ‘wtf did you just say’ before looking over at Quinn who’s glaring at her yet again.

After Mindy’s monologue, the group splits off, Ethan offering to walk Wendy back to her dorm, the two are having a lovely conversation before they’re stopped by none other than Kurt Parker. “Wendy, hey you never responded to my text.” “Maybe because I was busy and maybe because I don’t owe you a response, Kurt.” “Wendy there’s a killer on the loose again, you need to be safe, who’s this Nerd anyways?” Wendy rolls her eyes, “The ‘nerd’ has a name and it’s Ethan,” Wendy grabbed Ethan’s hand, “and he’s my new boyfriend so fuck off Kurt.” Wendy drags Ethan with her toward her dorm. “I’m so sorry you’re getting dragged into this Eth… it’s just Kurt never leaves me alone, I’ve blocked his number god knows how many times and he just changes his number to text me again.” “It’s fine Wennie… want me to beat him up?” Ethan half jokes causing Wendy to giggle, “No, Eth, it’s okay, there’s already a line of people - even the dead, who want to do that. Besides wouldn’t want your cute face to get harmed.” She smiles at him as they continue walking. “I have a weird question.” “Shoot.” “Have you noticed how Quinn glares at me whenever I sit near you?” “Yeah… it’s a little weird right?” “I guess… it might be because I’m best friends with her ex, she’s always been kind of mean to me.”

Later that night Wendy arrives to the Carpenter sister apartment by herself, “Wennie you’re here by yourself?” Mindy teases her as she opens the door. “Haha funny, Eth had class and Matt is with Carrie and Becca, and we all agreed to stay in at least pairs…” Wendy trailed off, “I’m joking Wen, also Eth? That’s new. Still don’t trust him.” “Okay…” Wendy sat with Anika on the couch as Mindy went back to the dining room to set the table, the duo minding their own business as they worked on school assignments, when they heard the core four conversation, “Does it hurt?” Anika asks Wendy quietly, “What hurt?” “Them seemingly forgetting you were there and that you survived with them.” “Not really… they were more Wes’ friends than mine to begin with, I only got close with them when we all moved here. Though if you ask Matt he will definitely be hurt from being excluded in the core four.” Wendy and Anika laughed together before they heard noises coming from Quinn’s room, “Oh my god does she ever not?” Wendy jokes causing Anika to laugh harder until their phones went off and Wendy looked at the photo, “Oh my god.” The four core run out into the living room all standing before “Quinn’s dead body” is thrown at Anika. Mindy and Anika started fighting Ghostface, Wendy hitting Ghostface with one of her textbooks after he stabs Anika, subsequently getting stabbed in the same spot she was stabbed by Richie about a year prior. “Oh fuck.” Sam leads them into the room, locking the door, Mindy running to lock the other door before seeing a dead body in the bathtub and screaming. Ghostface easily finding them before Mindy and Sam shut the other door and put Quinn’s dress in front of the door to try to block him from getting in. Sam climbs the ladder across first, followed by Mindy, Wendy is holding the door while putting pressure on her wound. “Ani you have to go. I’ll be right behind you.” “I can’t go Wen, you have to go please go.” “Ani, I’m not letting you die. I can’t lose another person.” Wendy begs her and Anika nods before going to the ladder and starting to climb, Wendy losing strength to hold the door and runs over to the window to hold the ladder down. Across the way, Wendy can see Chad and Tara inside Danny’s apartment helping Mindy, Wendy looks back at the door and sees that Ghostface is almost in, “I don’t want to die.” Anika cries, “You won’t die Ani, I won’t allow it.” Wendy shouts to her, “Just keep going.” Chad and Sam get Anika in and Wendy gets onto the ladder looking down “Oh fuck.” She whispers, “Wendy come on!” Chad shouts at her. Wendy starts crawling trying not to slip on Anika’s blood, she gets over halfway through before she almost slips off “Shit!” “Wendy, you’ve got to hurry come on!” Tara shouts at her before she’s pushed out of the way, “Wennie!” “Eth?” Wendy questions before she feels the ladder get shaken, “OH MY GOD!” She screams, tears streaming from her face. “Wennie grab my hand!” “I can’t Eth!” She tells him and she crawls closer. The ladder jolts again and Wendy looks down, accepting her fate was likely death. “I’m going to die I’m going to die.” Wendy whispers, before the ladder jolts again as she’s crawling closer to the window, she feels herself slip before there’s two hands on her wrists, “Wennie, I’ve got you just climb a little closer.” Ethan tells her and Wendy nods climbing slightly closer before her leg slips, Ghostface takes the chance to try to get her off the ladder, “Chad some help!” Chad runs over to the window and helps pull Wendy in the window before she clings to Ethan. “I thought you had Econ.” “I got out earlier, saw Sam and Mindy crawling over the ladder before running inside and finding Tara and Chad running to… what’s his name…. his apartment.”.

Wendy sits in the back of an ambulance with Mindy watching one drive off with Anika, Ethan rubs her shoulder as she leans into him. They watch as Detective Bailey walks out of the apartment building, crying. “Something seems off.” Wendy says to Mindy. “You’re right… still don’t trust Ethan though.” “Mindy he’s standing literally right next to me.” “Still don’t trust him.” Mindy glares at him, “Ghostface.”

Skip to the shrine, “Holy shit.” Wendy mumbles as she walks around, her hand dropping from Ethan… her breath hitched as she looks at two outfits next to a case, a drawing of her mom inside of it. “Wennie…” “It’s my mom.” She whispers, hearing Mindy call Chad over and talking about their uncle Randy. “Dewey…” Wendy turns to Matt, Carrie, and Becca. Wendy watches as Carrie walks over to her mom, immediately hugging her. Wendy feels Matt touch her shoulder, “Wen…” Wendy shakes her head before walking away.

FBI VAN: Wendy sits next to Ethan, listening to Mindy talk to Kirby, Ethan offers his cheetos to Wendy and she shakes her head. She’s also not surprised when she finds out Tara and Sam stole Detective Bailey’s car.

The subway: Matt, Becca, Tara, Chad, Danny, and Sam all get separated from Wendy, Ethan and Mindy. Mindy still gets stabbed, Ethan and Wendy get her help before they tell Mindy they’re still going to help the others. Ethan about halfway there stops Wendy, “Wennie I don’t think you should go…” “What are you talking about Eth, I’m going, they’re my friends.” “Wennie I don’t want you to get hurt.” “I’m not going to get hurt, you’ll be there, my knight in shiny cardboard.” “Wennie…” Wendy looks at Ethan for a second before dropping his hand. “Ethan… no…” “Wennie I’m sorry I wanted to tell you.” “No Ethan, you don’t get to just say sorry.” “Wen-“ “Leave me alone Landry.” She shook her head as she walked away tears streaming down her face as she sped walked to the theater/shrine. “Wendy, where’s Mindy? Where’s Ethan?” Sam asks her, “Mindy was stabbed, and Eth-“ the two are cut off by the sounds of Tara’s screams, “TARA!” They both shouted running towards the screams. Matt close behind them, Chad had taken care of one Ghostface killer before another one came up behind him and stabbed him, Matt running over to defend Chad before getting stabbed multiple times. Sam dragging both Tara and Wendy out, Wendy zones out during Kirby and Sam’s shouting followed by Detective Bailey’s before he shot Kirby. Two Ghostfaces appearing next to him, Wendy gulps, knowing one of them is probably Ethan. The first of the two ghostfaces pulls their mask off revealing Quinn “hey roomies”, Sam immediately assumed the other Ghostface is Becca, but before the other Ghostface could pull their mask off Wendy feels someone grab her from behind and hold a knife to her throat. The other Ghostface quickly pulls his mask off, “You promised me she wouldn’t get hurt.” “Promises were meant to be broken son.” “Son?” Wendy whispers before the knife is pressed harder into her throat. “God Ethan, this lovesick puppy bullshit is getting gross. Why do you think we got a replacement for you?” Quinn gags as she looks at the way her brother stares at Wendy. “Replacement?” Ethan turns towards his dad. “Yeah, brother, you disappointed us by falling in love with the enemy so we replaced you. Wasn’t that hard really, right dad?” Detective Bailey nods before turning towards the Carpenter sisters, “There’s a special bond a father has with his first son.” Ethan looked upset as he looked towards Wendy, Wendy motioned with her eyes for him to go, Ethan reluctantly sneaks out while his father argued with Sam and Quinn was distracted. “It’s Richie.” Wendy whispered, “What?” Tara asked, “Their brother, his son, it’s Richie.” Wendy repeats the knife to her throat drawing a little bit of blood. “Then who’s holding you?”

“Surprise, Wendy… or should I say baby” Kurt laughs as he pulls his mask off the knife still to her throat. “Go to hell.”

“Nah uh, huh.” Kurt gripped her again, “You’re the one going to hell, slut.” Kurt dragged Wendy off as Tara and Sam screamed for her, Wendy cried as she gets dragged. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“For who?” Wendy asks a slight smirk to her face as she sees Ethan out of the corner of her eye.

“Me, obviously baby, I’m going to have my way with you and then I’m going to gut you like the bitch you are.” Kurt replies before stabbing her in the stomach, Wendy screams out but asking him “Yeah but how will you do that if you’re dead?”

“Me dead? How would that happe-“ Kurt was cut off by a knife going through the side of his throat, Wendy covered in his blood. Before he’s tackled off her, “That’s how… Wennie, come on, I’ve got to get you out here.” Ethan put pressure on her wound. “We have to help Tara and Sam… and Chad and Matt… where’s Becca?”

“Becca is fine, she got out after Quinn stabbed her, she’s with Danny.”

“But how?”

“Wennie now is not the time for questions.”

After the rest of ScreamVi: Wendy spends a few days in the hospital, Ethan by her side despite being question by the police multiple times, though Kirby is helping with his cover story. The two were still not official a few months after, in fact Wendy was still upset with Ethan for not telling her sooner. Until Wendy’s birthday, April 29th, Ethan still wasn’t on the best of terms with the rest of the group, especially not Matt who became Wendy’s protective older brother after Wes’ death but Wendy still wanted him at her birthday get together. “It’s not much but it’s still something” “Eth, you didn’t have to.” “I know I didn’t but I wanted to…” Wendy opened the present and looked at it in awe, “Is this?” “A bracelet inspired by Taylor’s different eras? Yes, because I know you were bummed about missing out on buying one from her merch sale… so I found someone selling one on ebay and I got it for you.” “Eth…” Wendy trailed off, a single tear flowing down her cheek. “I probably should go now, Matt and Chad are death glaring at me.” Ethan goes to leave, “Eth wait!” Wendy grabs his wrist, he turns to face her, “Can I kiss you?” she asks, Ethan hesitates but he nods, Wendy leans in and kisses him AND THATS WHERE WE ARE AT UNTIL SCREAM7 THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO WRITE SO GOODNIGHT!

#Scream OC #Scream Original Character

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