#and blew the front driver's tire

[what-wait-why]

second round/third (and hopefully last) of the root canals is done!

I'm definitely in pain, but it's a clean kind of pain compared to what i had before. and not as bad.

now to get my wisdom teeth (+ one other beyond saving) out next month

[zeppelinlvr]

Taking a Walk

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Sam, Dean and you get done with a hunt, you're starving and tired and Dean is happy to get you food and cuddle in bed.

Notes: guys I promise the end isn't supposed to be sad, I just feel like dean has trouble saying 'I love you' (so don't take it to heart), also thank you for the support on my previous fic!

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, suggestive language, gas station hot dogs

w.c: 1.4k

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You groaned as you got into the backseat of the impala. You luckily left the hunt with no more than the usual scrapes, expecting a few bruises to appear in the next day or two. Your legs burned like all hell and you wanted nothing more than to shower and get in bed. 

Dean got into the driver's seat and Sam in the passenger, the two bickering about something petty you didn’t care to pay attention to at the moment. 

Sam glanced back at you, sprawled out in the backseat, uncomfortably trying to lay down and rub your aching legs. 

“You alright back there?” He asked, a small laugh escaping.

“No i need some aspirin and a fucking gas station hot dog” you shot back

“Must be hungry, she never eats that kind of crap” Dean remarked, starting the car and unbeknownst to you peeling off to find the nearest gas station, he knew how you acted when you were hungry and tired and he didn’t want to let you get to that point. 

You found a wrapper that had been discarded in the backseat and threw it at the back of Deans head “if you would’ve let me bring my fucking purse I would’ve had my aspirin and my granola bar” you muttered, annoyed he made you leave your bag at the hotel. 

“Okay Mary Poppins, something could have grabbed that purse of yours and dragged you away” He told you, continually increasing his speed, trying to get to a gas station or somewhere with food as soon as he could. 

Dean barreled around a corner far too quickly making you groan “I get carsick be careful” 

“That's an excuse for pussies who want to sit in the front seat sweetheart,” Dean said, his eyes catching a lit up sign of a local gas station in the distance. 

“It is not, I really do get-“ you were cut off by the car reeling to a stop 

“Come on, we’re getting you your fucking gas station hot dog” Dean said as he opened his door, then yours, helping you out of the backseat. 

“Wait Sammy do you want anything?” you quickly asked as Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulder 

“God no” he said “thank you for asking though” he added giving you a small smile 

“Okay, don’t get kidnapped” you replied and teasingly blew him a kiss earning a scoff from Dean. 

You headed straight towards the questionable looking hot dogs rolling on a silver grill. Dean right behind you.

“This shit looks so good I can't lie” you said to Dean with a laugh.

“I don’t know if your vision gets warped when you’re hungry but whatever floats your boat sweet cheeks” Dean replied, giving you a look with a raised brow. 

You loaded up a few shitty hotdogs with all the condiments your heart desired, you were ready to follow Dean to pay when you noticed a slushy machine

“Oh my god I want a slushy” you squealed, definitely too excited over the frozen drink. 

Dean gave a small laugh at your excitement but he really did love how the smallest things made you so happy. “I’ll take your dogs, go get one” he told you

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you quickly made your way over to the machine, grabbing a cup and filling it with your favorite flavor, making sure every bit through the dome shaped lid was filled with the drink. 

“Didn’t know you were a pro slushy maker” Dean commented upon seeing your determination that the entire cup was filled.

“Got to get my money's worth” you shrugged 

Dean paid for your hot dogs and slushy and the two of you headed back to the car, you placed a quick kiss on his cheek and thanked him for getting you the food you desperately needed before you crawled into the backseat.

He handed you the hot dogs but not your slushy “I am not letting you get this sticky shit all over my backseat, Sam’s gonna hold your slushy and you can have it when we get back to the motel” he told you

You and Sam began to protest, you complaining it would melt and Sam not wanting to hold a freezing drink in his hand. 

“This is not a discussion, we're five minutes away, you big babies will survive” Dean said, passing the drink off to Sam then shutting his door and starting the car. 

“You seemed to have no problem with sticky shit getting on this backseat last night” you muttered before taking a bite of your hot dog.

“Ew what the hell” Sam exclaimed “you said you guys were going on a walk” 

“Sam when have either of us ever had any interest in going on walks” Dean said flatly 

Sam made a face that could only begin to show how sickened he was by the conversation.

“Dean I know you’re probably dying to listen to some Barry Manilow right now, but can you please throw in some Zeppelin or the Velvet Underground” you said, poking at the fact both of you hated Barry Manilow.

“Not in the mood for your hippie doo dah Velvet shit, you want Zeppelin 4 or Houses of the Holy?” 

“Houses of the Holy, please and thank you” you replied, squeezing his shoulder as an attempted emphasis on your gratitude. 

The tape started up on D’yer Mak’er, not having been rewound since the last time it was played. 

The song ended as you pulled into the parking lot of the motel. 

“I get the shower first” you quickly said

“Fine, but you have 20 minutes, me and Sam aren’t going to sit in stinky clothes for an hour while you take a long ass shower” Dean replied to you 

“Okay Dr. Seuss” you replied with a roll of your eyes.

“What about your slushy?” Sam asked fake annoyance lacing his tone. 

“I’ll chug it before I get in the shower, give it to me” you told him, holding your hand out, you began to quickly drink down the slushy as Dean unlocked the door to the room. 

“atta girl” Dean teased as he noticed your actions. 

Your head throbbed from the slushy but you managed to drink most of it, you discarded it then made your way to the shower. 

You heard a banging at the door as you were finishing up, you shut the water off then wrapped a towel around yourself and your hair. 

“I said 20 minutes sweetheart” Dean yelled through the door.

You opened the door, a cold wave of air hitting you in contrast to the warmth of the bathroom. 

“Do you mind if I do my hair and skincare while you shower?” you asked him

“Go right ahead” he replied, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He quickly began to undress, noticing you unable to take your eyes off his figure. 

“Like what you see?” he teased, a smirk playing at his face

You raised your eyebrows in response “we might have to go on a walk again” you laughed and pushed his shoulder slightly. 

He chuckled at your comment then turned on the water and hopped in the shower. 

You had gotten ready for bed and had your pajamas on by the time Dean got out of the shower. You laid in bed and read a book not involving some kind of entity, just one for your own pleasure. Sam went to shower and Dean climbed into bed next to you, heat radiating off of him from the warmth of the water, his hair still slightly damp. You set your book down upon feeling his presence next to you. 

“Thanks for getting me those hot dogs” you laughed “I’m sorry I was grouchy, I was really hungry” 

“It's okay sweetheart, I’m glad to get you food when you need it” he told you as he wrapped an arm around you. 

“You okay if I shut the lamp off, I’m really tired” you asked him. 

He hummed in response, pulling you into him after you had shut the light off. He wrapped his arms around your waist and your back was against his chest, you felt his breathing calm against you. You snuggled into him, wiggling your butt against his crotch in the process earning a response of “don't do that” from him, you giggled slightly at his words. 

“I love you Dean” you said as you shut your eyes. 

“You too y/n” he uttered out already half asleep, as he pressed a kiss to the back of your head. 

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[moeyynorris]

Private Conversation

Lando Norris x F!Reader

Warnings: suggestive language, dirty talk, implied smut, descriptions of arousal, embarrassment?

A/N: I thought I would wrote a little Lando. ❤️ It’s just a little drabble. Feedback is appreciated!

Lando chattered with the team engineers, sporting a sweet smile. He was so excited for qualifying. Since he had finished well over the last few races, he knew a win was so close, he could taste it.

As Lando socialized and absorbed all of the information the engineers were feeding him, you sat in the driver’s seat of his car. Every once in a while, a team member would tweak something on the car, insisting that you didn’t need to move.

Lando turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering as he took in the sight of you in his seat. There was something about you sitting in his car that got him, well, aroused.

“Comfy, baby?” He cooed as he grinned over to you. You nodded, offering a sweet smile in return.

Lando stepped over to you, his tongue flicking over his lips. His eyes devoured every inch of you sitting there, simply lounging where he will be in less than an hour, possibly qualifying on pole. You wiggled your hips a little, causing Lando’s eyes to flutter as a low groan left him.

He leaned over the halo, his face just inches from yours.

“You may be in my seat now, all beautiful and sweet. But later, my face will be your seat.” He reached a hand to your chin, lifting it so your eyes locked. “Alright, princess?”

Your face heated as you nodded, your thighs squeezing together as you processed his words. Your eyelids fluttered as his thumb caressed your jaw line.

“Everyone here thinks your so sweet and innocent, but they don’t know what you sound like when we leave the track. They way you plead and how filthy you sound screaming my name.” You closed your eyes for a second, then snapped them back open, hoping no one was paying attention.

You peered around for a moment as Lando pulled his hand away. A pair of familiar eyes stared widely at you from beside one of the front tires. Oscar stood there, a mixture of shock and disgust of on his face.

“Lando, dude, I don’t think you know how to whisper.” Oscar’s face curled as he tightly folded his arms over his chest.

“Well, you shouldn’t have been listening, bro. It’s not my fault you overheard a private conversation.” Lando chuckled, leaning back before he stood.

“It’s a garage full of people. You can’t exactly have a private conversation,” Oscar retorted. You peered around, hoping no one else on the team was reacting. Much to your relief, no one seemed to have heard you, or at least they weren’t acting like it.

“Well, I guess that means back to work, baby.” He blew you a kiss, then returned back to the team.

You glanced over at Oscar, who was still staring wide-eyed. The poor man looked like a deer in headlights.

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him, scrunching into a ball in the McLaren seat. Oscar smiled, then turned to Lando, scrunching his nose. You chuckled as your boyfriend’s teammate headed back to his side of the garage, having learned to not listen in on Lando’s private conversations.

[octuscle]

Road Trip to a new life

Bloody hell, Chuck thought to himself! They can't just forget me here! His football team was on its way home from an away game. A very successful away game. And they all had their star quarterback to thank for that. And that was him, that was Chuck. And now they had all just taken a pee break. At a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. And hey, Chuck had been flirting with the cute waitress at the diner. And yes, he had fucked her in the broom closet. Hehehe, he thought to himself for a brief moment. A map of the state, showing the broom closets where he'd fucked basement girls, cheerleaders, or even teachers from schools he'd usually flunked out of shortly afterward. That would be a cool idea! His grin didn't last long. Shit, the team bus had left. Without him. And now he was standing here in the rain with no idea how he was going to get home.

A truck came to a halt next to him. A horn sounded very loudly. Chuck didn't react yet. The passenger door opened and a bearded guy looked out. "Son, you look lost. Can I give you a ride?" Chuck hesitated for a moment. He was still far too confused, far too angry to think clearly. "Sure, that would be cool," he replied. And climbed into the cab of the monstrous truck. It smelled of cigar smoke and sweat. Chuck looked at the driver. A short, slightly overweight guy. Unkempt. The dirty T-shirt ended just above the large belt buckle and showed a roll of flab. A greasy mullet peeked out from under the trucker's cap. Shit, Chuck thought to himself. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea. The trucker lit a half-smoked cigar. "My name is Pete. If you want one too, there's one in the compartment right in front of you. Chuck shook his head, tensed his biceps and said, "Chuck! Thanks for the ride. And I don't smoke. I'm an athlete." Pete stretched out his right arm and felt Chuck's biceps. "Hm, feels good. It'd be a shame if you stopped working out." He blew a puff of smoke in Chuck's direction. And his hand moved towards Chuck's chest. "Wait, wait," Chuck moved to the right in a sit. "No homo, dude. I only fuck pussy." The driver just glanced briefly in Chuck's direction and smiled. His teeth were nicotine yellow. "I don't care what YOU fuck." He blew another puff of smoke in Chuck's direction, pulled his hand back and began kneading the bulge in his crotch. "Thanks for the ride, I think I'd better get off now." Another puff of smoke. Chuck went dizzy. "Comrade, the next stop isn't for another six hours. We have a schedule to meet." Chuck tried to keep a clear head. But the smoke was making him tired. His head felt like it was full of absorbent cotton. "All right, Pete," he mumbled. And fell asleep.

It was dark outside when Pete shook him by the shoulder. "Get up, sleepyhead. We'll take a break in fifteen minutes and then change drivers. Chuck yawned and stretched. Driver change? What was Pete talking about? And more important now was his latte. South of his big belt buckle, Chuck made a big tent in his pants. Of course Pete had noticed it long ago. He had long since taken his puny boner out of his pants and was wanking it. As a passenger, you had your duties. And it was still a quarter of an hour's drive. It wasn't the first time Chuck had blown someone in a driver's cab. Driver's cabs, filthy toilets in truck stops, broom closets in cheap diners. He could manage anywhere. How long had he been driving aimlessly on the highways now? Two years? Got there. You had to take what you could get. And Pete was actually out of his league. But he took him a good part of the way. Gratitude was a must.

Chuck walked a little wide-legged towards the restrooms at the service station. Pete must have cum. Chuck hadn't yet. They wouldn't be driving on for another hour at the earliest. It was going to be hell if he didn't find someone to fuck by then. In the light of a lantern, he leaned against the wall, his erection still clearly visible. He took a cigar from his leather vest, lit it and waited. Almost five minutes. Then a greasy business traveler in a cheap suit walked past him. A look that lasted a little too long. A grab in the crotch. A mumbled "20 without a rubber?". And everything was clear. It had been a few days since Chuck had showered, but the guy was still greedily going down on Chuck's greasy, cheesy cock. Premium beef. Yes, that described his cock very well. And this premium beef had just been sucked clean for 20 dollars. And then Chuck sank it into the guy's ass.

Chuck couldn't understand guys like Pete. When you were out on the street, you had to take care of your body. Okay, Chuck more than others, his body was his asset after all. But while Chuck shoveled in lots of chips and a big burger and drank three pitchers of beer, Chuck ate his steak and salad, drank water and used the last few minutes before leaving to do a few pull-ups and push-ups at the fitness station behind the toilets. A few other long-distance drivers loitered around him. If they hadn't had to drive on, Chuck could certainly have earned a few more dollars. But as it was, he climbed into the driver's seat. If he hadn't had to drive, he would certainly have had a few beers. As it was, another cigar would have to do. Pete snored in the back of his bunk. Chuck turned the radio up a little louder to stay awake. And he steered the truck south through the night.

At the next break and before the driver change, Chuck was able to earn a few more dollars. There were many truck stops where he was known as a colorful dog. When you heard his heavy footsteps and the creaking of the leather, it was like a bell on a Pavlovian dog. Chuck had been traveling the country for many years. A mixture of hustler, temporary trucker and casual laborer. He had flunked out of college at some point. Stupid thing to do. He'd had a thing with a woman once. And she'd claimed he'd raped her. That taught him a lesson, since then he only fucked men. They appreciated his mouth, his ass and his cock. And paid well.

Somewhere in New Mexico, Pete threw Chuck out of the truck. He had to be out of the cab before the finish line. Pete would be in big trouble if it came out that he had let someone else drive the truck. He thanked Chuck with a masterful blowjob and a box of Cuban cigars. They would probably never see each other again. The country was big… Chuck rarely got in the same truck twice.

Chuck loved the feeling of the sun on his body. He was able to use the stop for an extensive open-air workout, a good meal, two lucrative fucks and even a shower. Now let's see where he was going. He stood by the road. It wasn't five minutes before a car stopped and the driver asked him if he could give him a lift. Chuck only asked if he could smoke in the car. Only if he didn't just put the cigar in his mouth, was the answer. Chuck got in the car. On the road again!

Pics by @ki-kink

[small-sinclair]

Tarps and Glass

Whumptober 6: Not Realizing They’re Hurt

Bo Sinclair x reader

Tw: blood, hints of murder, dead bodies mention, Bo being a bit obsessive of reader, not proof read

“It’s not my blood.”

Bo didn’t give Lester a chance to break as he hopped out of the truck and ran towards the accident. He saw a blue car tipped over and its side and your white car on the side. The window was cracked and shattered, and the door dented and tangled. He didn’t see you at first as a firefighter tried to hold Bo back, but he shoved him aside and ran towards your smoking car. The air bags were deployed, showing hints of blood, your blood.

“Bo!” His head snapped at your voice and his knees turned into Jello. You were sitting in the back of an ambulance with an EMT looking over you.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to your side. He knelt in front of you and took one of your hands. His eyes never looked away from the dark cherry red on your shirt. He felt his blood grow cold and his heart rise in his throat. “Darlin’, is...is that...?”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand, “No, no; it’s not mine. It's the others.”

“How did it get on you?” He looked up at you, one hand holding your hand while the other ran up and down your arm in a soothing motion. Under different circumstances, he would look good on his knees with pleading eyes. “Sweetheart?”

You closed your eyes as you relived the moment when the other car came barreling towards you. You didn’t mean to, but you squeezed his hand tightly. “I know I was pinned, but...but the other driver wasn’t. He looked over at the other EMTs working on the driver. “He got out of his car and tried to help me.” Your eyes met Bo’s, saying in a soft voice, “He was bleeding bad, but it didn’t stop him. He was trying to help me...he was trying, Bo.” You said his name in such a defeated voice. He never wants to hear you say it like that ever again. “Then he collasped and...and...”

“Shh, cher,” he hushes. He only talks in his deep Cajun when he’s scared; this terrified him to death. “He’ll be alright. Promise.”

“What if he’s not?”

He reaches up and held your cheek. His ring was cold against your skin, sending a comforting chill through you. “I’ll start his heart if I have to, sweetheart, and you know I’ll do it.” he gave a reassuring smile, which faded in moments. “They’ll work on the man and do everything they can.” He came of his knees and kisses your forehead, his lips pressing against your forehead with a lingering touch. “Worry about yourself, mon cher. Do that for me?” He smiled when he saw your nodding, your eyes puffy and read from tears.

Bo kisses your hand before leaving your side to find Lester, who was parked behind a line of firefighters. Worry was edged on his face as he saw Bo, and his eyes never left his as Bo reached into his breast pocket and took out a ciggaret and a lighter.

“They’re fine,” Bo said, casting his gaze over the scene behind him. “The driver saved her, or tired to help...it’s up to the angels to decide.” He looks over at the drapped tarp then back at Lester. “Get those bodies to Vincent, Les. I’ll hitch a ride with the bus.” He blew smoke into the air. “Don’t want cops to see our hunting bounty.” He flashed an amused smile and chuckled. “Damn, it would fun, wouldn’t it?”

Lester shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he looked past his shoulder and into the scene. “You’re gonna to kill that driver, aren’t ‘cha?”

“Tried to take what was mine,” he said as if it was a fact of life. “Can’t let him live.”

“It was an accident—”

“An accident that nearly took ‘em from me,” he said, his eyes hardening. “He tried to help her, yes, but he nearly killed her. That’s unforgivable...something I can’t overlook, Les. It won’t be my blood on my hands; it’ll be his. Now,” he handed his half-lit cig to Lester, “take the bodies to Vincent.”

Lester hesitated but sighed and took the cigarette, placing it in his mouth. “Be safe then. Don’t get caught, either. They don’t know what we do, Bo.”

“And I’ll keep it dat way,” he said, nodding. “Get drivin’, raccoon. Those bodies will smell soon.”

[sacharinee]

hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this 

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues. 

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,” 

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.” 

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,” 

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands. 

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame. 

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion. 

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.” 

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment. 

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.” 

“you and me both,” strange clips. 

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.” 

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing black socks with white shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.” 

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’” 

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

[finnsbubblegum]

Will You Forgive Me? (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, jealousy, possessiveness, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys) (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: After a fight with Joel, you decided to go to the bar and got drunk. He got angry and apologized to you in his own way. 😏

Words count: 1.4k

A/N: Hi! I’m not a native English speaker so I’m sorry if I have grammar mistakes or the sentences come up unnatural, please be nice and I'm open for suggestions. I hope you like the smut I’m writing because I am inexperienced lol. I hope you enjoy it.

You got in your car, hesitating to drive, hoping Joel would come out and stop you. But he wasn’t there. So you drove away and went to the bar called Ray’s where you usually drank with him. You found a seat and drank a lot. You started feeling tipsy and you decided to call him.

“Hey handsome, I take it back. We’re not breaking up. Ugh. No. I’m done. I don’t care. Uhm. I. Uhm. Don’t call me. Why are you calling me?” You were drunk and you thought he called you when you were the one who called him.

“Are you drunk? Where are you?” Joel grabbed his jacket and rushed to his car, and he was getting worried.

“Why do you care? You don’t love me.” You laughed.

“Tell me right now! Where are you?” He raised his voice and started to get angry. 

“You know where, here, there, at Ra- Hey! Did you just grab my ass? Fuck you!” You hung up and confronted the drunk guy.

“Fuck!” Joel started his car and drove as fast as he could to the bar. He guessed it's Ray's since your call was cut off and it’s the only bar you’ve gone to together.

His blood was boiling as he walked in the bar and found the drunk guy was hugging you as you tried to pull away. He came to you and pushed the guy. You gasped as Joel punched the guy. 

He gave a death stare and yelled, “You stay away from my girl!”

Joel grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the bar. His grip was very strong and it was hurting you.

You tried to release your wrist from him, “Joel, stop it, you’re hurting me, it hurts.”

He didn’t care. He kept dragging you and put you into the passenger seat of his car and slammed the door. You were scared, you have never seen him this angry before. As he got in the driver’s seat, he hit the steering wheel.

"What the fuck were you thinkin'?!" Joel clenched his jaw and stared at you.

“Oh! Now you care, huh?” You scoffed.

Joel growls. He didn’t say anything.

“My head hurts. Will you just take me to my house?” You asked Joel.

The whole way to your house was just silence. Joel parked his car into the driveway. You immediately got out of the car and stood in front of your door looking for your keys.

“Fuck! Where is it?” You were annoyed as you couldn’t find your keys.

Joel opened the door with the spare key you gave him. You rolled your eyes as you walked inside and Joel followed you. He pulled you to his chest and kissed you roughly while his foot kicked the door to close it.

“What are you doing?” You sounded irritated and pushed him.

Joel sighed, “I..Uhm..”

“Tell me you love me, Joel.”

Joel cleared his throat, not answering you.

“If you can’t say it then get out.” You were tired of him.

“I..I love you. I mean it. It’s just that..”

“Just what, Joel?” 

“I’m not good in expressin’ myself.” He let out a sigh. “I fuckin’ love you. You should know that.”

“Oh, Joel. I just needed to hear those three little words from you. I’m sorry I blew up like that.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I was wrong.” He said it softly as he walked slowly and closer to you.

Your eyes were getting teary and you looked down. Joel’s hands raised your chin to look straight into your eyes. He kissed you deep with his tongue caressing your lips then your tongue touched his. You moaned and put your arms around his neck while his hands on your hips. The two of you kept kissing as he raised your leg to his hips carrying you towards the stairs. He pressed you to the wall after walking up just a few stairs. The kissing never stopped. He held your weight with his strong hips and thighs. He slid his hand under your shirt, massaged your breast, and swallowed your moan. You felt arousal pooling between your legs. 

“Touch me, Joel.” You guided his other hand to your cunt and he palmed it with his big hands.

“Already wet for me, darlin’?” 

He kneeled and pulled your panties down. His eyes looked hungry when he saw your pussy shining with your slick. He kissed your inner thigh slowly and lovingly before he went to lick your clit. 

“Oh, Jooell.” You gasped. 

Your breathing was heavy and you pulled his hair which made him let out a moan. He kept licking and slurping you up and down. Your thigh trembled and you knew you needed him.

“Joel, bedroom, now.” 

Joel stopped to look at you. You held his hand and dragged him to your room. The kissing and touching continued as the two of you were already in your bedroom. You walked backwards and led him to your bed. You undressed yourself, naked and laid on your back. He climbed on top of you kissing your neck and his fingers played with your nipple. He was a lot bigger than you, his broad shoulder covered all of your body and you could feel his warmth wrapping you.

“Let me ride you, Joel.”

“Not tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me take care of you tonight, baby.”

You groaned as his words made you even more horny. 

“Okay, take care of me tonight, Miller. Fuck me till I can’t walk.”

“I will.” He growled as he stood up beside the bed and pulled his shirt and pants off letting his cock free. You can see a leaking pre-cum on his tip.

He climbed back on top of you, brushed his tip on your clit, covering his cock with your slick before he slowly pushed himself in your entrance. You moaned as it felt so good when he stretched you wide. He rested his hands beside your head to hold his weight and started to move slowly. He started kissing your breast and licking your nipple. He was so good that you loved him doing that to you. You shut your eyes enjoying the night and clenched your hands to his shoulder.

“Fuck! That feels so good. You’re so good, Joel.”

He didn’t answer. He rubbed your clit with his thumb and pinched your nipple with the other hand. He kept doing those moves you loved to please you. He started to think that this position was not enough for you so he shifted you to your stomach and started fucking you from behind. You moaned loudly.

“Can you move faster?” You asked Joel and his thrusts were getting faster. 

There was no other sound besides the sound of skin to skin, moans and heavy breathings. He clenched his hands on your hips. You whimpered, bit your hand as you felt you were close. 

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” It felt so good that you could only whimper and shout his name.

“Cum for me, baby.” He kept pleasing you.

You panted and felt your vision blurring. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands clenching on the sheets, and screamed his name. You felt your orgasm washed all over your body. You shivered and it felt like heaven. He has made you cum thousand times before but orgasm from makeup sex is your favorite. He let you catch your breath and came down from your orgasm as he laid down beside you. You tried to stand up to clean yourself but you couldn’t walk. Your legs were shaking. Joel really did what you told him to do. 

“You really did what I told you, huh?” You chuckled and looked at his face full of sweat.

“I told you I will do it. Fuck you till you can’t walk.” He sounded so sexy when he said that to you with his deep voice.

He got up and walked his way to the bathroom to get a towel and dampen it with water. He came to you and cleaned you up. After he cleaned you, he laid beside you again, pulled you closer to him, wrapped his arm around you, and put your head to his chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I love you. Will you forgive me?” He apologized to you and kissed your forehead.

“How can I not forgive you after all of this?” You laughed and kissed his chest. In fact, you have even forgotten about the fight with him. 

You thought to yourself, “Joel really knows how to apologize in his own way.”

[thatsdemko]

I’m yours - p.gasly

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: Pierre gasly x fem!reader

warnings: fluff + some swear words + some anxious thoughts + established relationship

a/n: loosely inspired by a conversation me and @vamossainz55 had! feedback is always appreciated xx

Pierre

where are you?

read at 11:50pm

he stares at his phone, anxiously awaiting your response. he knows you’re awake, he sees your location is at home, and you just now read his message he sent not even two seconds ago. he needs you, your comforting words and soft voice, he needs it after having to forfeit his own race over a malfunction.

the phone in his hand buzzes, and instantly he picks it up, relieved to hear your voice, “talk to me, mon amour.” your voice is scratchy, he knows by the sound of it you fell asleep under the ceiling fan in the living room. he can tell just based off how you sound, where you end up watching qualifying or the race.

“car nearly blew up, I’m lucky to be alive. Esteban fucking crashed into me, and I start bottom of the grid. I’m just so annoyed.” he slumps against the wall of his drivers room, listens to you hum in response.

“I just want you to talk to me.” he sighs turning the phone on speaker, and resting it on his thigh, “I just need your voice right now.”

you can’t help but feel those butterflies in your stomach. those simple words always get you, whether he’s in a good mood or a bad one, he always needs you in some way.

“I went to the park with my nieces today, they asked about you.” you hold the speaker close to your lips, knowing your voice is faint and tired from your slumber. your own sleepiness helps him relax against the wall, eyelids falling shut.

“how are they? still cute?” he asks, a chuckle falls out of his lips as he remembers the last time he saw them. they were in adult sized team gasly hoodies that were way too big for them. but they loved supporting their uncle Pierre.

“still rooting for you, just like me, babe.” you look over at the mess of your kitchen table, it’s covered in blue and pink glitter, they spent all afternoon making homemade signs for Pierre for tomorrows race.

“it’s good to know someone has my back.” he scoffs, the reminder of qualifying slipping back into his mind. he tries to shake it off, but the anger rises once more, and it’s your voice that once again soothes him.

“I’m in your corner through thick and thin, gasly.”

—

“and that’s p14 for gasly! what a horrible day for the alpine!”

you didn’t need the commentators to tell you that much, it was evident the car sucked. the only good thing that came from this was he moved up a couple of positions from last place, but it didn’t help that he couldn’t get up any further on the worst street circuit known to man.

you watch him climb out the car, helmet aggressively being thrown off as he storms through media, engineers, and other team members to his drivers room. your phone is rested face up against your thigh when the buzzing noise alerts your attention. it’s him.

“hi,” you answer quickly, hearing that same sigh from the other day. the one that makes you want to drop everything and meet him halfway across the world just to be in his arms.

“I’m taking the next flight home, I can’t do this anymore.” he sounds like he’s ready to sob, like this race cost him his emotions and psychological well-being. it breaks you, you want nothing more than to press sweet kisses and rub your nails up and down his back.

“Pierre, you love racing. just come home, okay? I love you.”

he nods, a few tears slip down his own cheeks as he chokes out those three words back to you, “thank you. I’m coming home.”

—

“why are you still awake?” he asks when he opens the front door and sees you sitting on the couch in the living room. he knows why you do it, so you can be there for him, but he hates that you jeopardize sleep for him.

“because you need me. so I’m awake.” you move off the couch, and climb over the arms to him. his bags drop down to the floor, arms wrapping you closer to his body. he’s squeezing you tight, like he’s afraid if he lets go all of this wouldn’t be happening, afraid somehow reality would float him back to the car where he’s fighting tears, a shitty day, and car.

“thank you for staying up.” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. you hear every word crystal clear despite how soft it is.

“I’d do anything for you, p.” your fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck. before pulling away he squeezes you closer to him once more.

“the girls made signs for you.” you pull him into the kitchen, where the mass mess of glitter still stands, but the blue and pink construction paper signs scatter the table brighten his mood.

he moves around the table looking at each one, all with the number 10, happy smiley stickers, hearts, and I love you’s. it truly makes his heart swell, “how can you ever say you don’t want to race again?” you whisper, arms wrapping around him from behind. his support system was the best when he needed them the most, and right now this was everything he needed and more.

he grabs your piece of construction paper from the table, the French flag colors decorate the white paper with the words “I love you gasly!” written in cursive, “this makes me want to keep going.”

you move around his body, his arm drapes around your shoulders, you look up at him. his beautiful blue eyes look lord but still hopeful, “through thick and thin, gasly. I’m yours.”

[shekeepswriting]

A Little More Heart (2)

[Syverson x Reader]

Word Count: 2821

Summary: You head home after a night at the bar.

Warnings: self-defense related anxiety

A/N: Thank you guys so, so much for all the kindness and support. I was blown away by the responses, and I truly appreciate it so much. So I’ve decided to keep going. I hope you’ll come on this little journey with me. I took the liberty of tagging the people who said they wanted to see more (it didn’t let me add some of you, but I did try). If you’d like me to take you off the list, just let me know!

Previous Chapter

You focused on taking deep, slow breaths as you walked along the side of the road, debating whether it was worth it to lose what little night vision you had by turning on your phone flashlight. You didn’t love the idea of not being able to see outside of the little circle of light it would provide, but you also didn’t love the idea of being hit by an unsuspecting car. 

You don’t know why you had walked to the bar in the first place. It wasn’t like you. But your cousin had called when she heard you were in town, sounded so excited to meet up with you after her shift at the hospital and promised to pick you up from the bar at 10:00. You didn’t know her very well anymore, hadn’t been a part of her life in a long time, but you’d had no reason to distrust her. 

After lingering in the parking lot for a good fifteen minutes with three calls gone to voicemail, you really hadn’t had any other choice but to start walking. In a town this small, there were no cab companies or ride shares to call. People  relied on family and friends to get them around when they found themselves without a car. And you were short on both.

Just as you pulled your phone from your pocket, headlights pierced the darkness, carving yellowed wedges of light onto the wet pebbledash road. A vehicle was approaching from the way you came. You moved even further off the road into the grass, and the driver flashed their headlights twice, acknowledging you. 

You raised a hand in gratitude as the truck rolled past you, but the light feeling was short lived as it pulled over in front of you. You sighed. 

It should have been a relief, an alternative to your long walk in the pitch black summer night, but instead it called to mind the first two minutes of every crime procedural you’d ever seen. And you really weren’t in the mood to be murdered. 

No one got out, but the cab light turned on, and you heard the passenger side window roll down. You took a moment to weigh your options, kneeling down for a moment in the damp grass as if retying your boot while you slipped the small utility knife out of the sheath you kept strapped around your ankle while traveling. You’d been raised to be prepared for the worst, especially when alone or around men. Anyone who wanted to harm you was sure as hell gonna bleed first. 

You approached the truck with slow steps, keeping your hand angled to hide the knife along the line of your thigh. 

“Now I know you didn’t survive traveling this long on your own by walking on unlit country roads at night.”

You heard him before you saw him, brows furrowed in confusion as you drew even with the passenger window. 

Sy. The guy from the bar. Under normal circumstances you can honestly say you would’ve been happy to see him again. But the current setting had you very on edge and reluctant to let your guard down.

“Not my preferred transportation,” you said carefully, looking him over.

For his part, it seemed like he was doing his very best to be nonthreatening, all the cab lights were on now, and he was leaning over slightly so that you could see his face fully lit and framed in the window. His hands were open, empty, and visible, one on the wheel and the other on the dash. 

“Everything okay? Didn’t see a car broken down, but it’s real fuckin dark out tonight.”

You blew out a breath, hand flexing around the knife handle as you tried to decide how honest to be. 

“Uh, yeah… my ride was late, and I got tired of waiting. Figured I’d get a head start.”

Sy frowned a little, eyes glancing at the rearview in search of other headlights. His fingers tapped restlessly on the dash.

“What are the chances you’d let me give you a ride?”

“Not great,” you admitted. “I mean, I enjoyed hanging out with you, but as much as we talked, we never got to topics like… your stance on murder and body disposal.”

Sy nodded slowly.

“Understood… You could take a picture of me if you want. And my license plate. Text it to everyone in your contacts.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You’d be okay with that?”

“Hell, I’ll sit in the truck bed and let you drive yourself if that’s what it takes to get you home safely. I’m not feeling too great about leaving you out here by yourself.”

You hesitated for a moment, looking up and down the road again. Still no other cars.

Fuck it.

“Alright…” 

Sy held perfectly still while you raised your phone and took his picture, sending it to your grandma, useless cousin, sister, brother in-law, and editor for good measure. Your phone’s flash blinded you for a second as you took a picture of the license plate moments later and sent it to the same list.

“You wanna drive?” Sy asked, leaning across the passenger seat to push the door open when you finished. 

“No thanks. Are you armed?”

“No, ma’am.”

You gave a final nod before climbing into the passenger seat. Sy’s brows raised when he clocked the knife in your hand, but he chose not to comment. 

“Where am I driving to?” he asked as you closed the door behind you. 

“My grandma lives down on Azalea. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“Got it.”

Sy pulled his truck back onto the road, and your leg started bouncing almost instantly. You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths. It was clean in here, at least. Surprisingly so. Smelled like leather and pine, without the help of a green paper tree hanging from the rearview mirror.

Sy’s eyes flickered towards you for a second before returning to the windshield.

“Anything I could be doing right now to make you less nervous?”

“Don’t think so,” you sighed. “Sorry, it’s not that I distrust you specifically, I just…”

“I know. I get it.” 

A few minutes passed in relative silence before he tried again.

“You always carry a knife with you?”

You raised an eyebrow, turning away from the window to stare at him.

“Knives. That’s what you wanna have a conversation about right now.”

He scrunched up his face in a way you fought hard not to find endearing.

“Knew as soon as it was outta my mouth…”

“So stupid,” you laughed quietly. 

“I’m just not used to seeing a woman carrying anything bigger than a pocketknife, is all.” 

“I think you might be surprised. Concealed knives may not be conventionally ladylike, but they make us harder to murder. I think it’s a fair trade.” 

“Making yourself harder to murder… Inconsiderate.” 

That surprised a laugh out of you so abrupt and genuine it made you honest-to-god snort. Sy glanced over at you with a rapidly growing grin of his own as you struggled to speak.

“So fucking rude,” you agreed through your laughter, your stomach giving a little flip as the low sound of his laughter joined yours. 

And just like that, as your laughter faded to giggles and Sy’s to a charming half smile, the tension left your muscles for the first time since exiting the bar. It was back to how it was before, back to glances and smiles and a strange level of comfort between strangers.

You felt kind of…. Well, not stupid. But silly maybe. 

“I’m sorry for, um…” You gestured vaguely backwards, and Sy shook his head.

“Don’t be. Trust me, I get it. You gotta do what you can to keep yourself safe. Not always easy to know what that is.” 

You thought about the silver chain you’d glimpsed earlier. Retired military, he’d said. Of course he’d get it.

“It sucks that you get it,” you said.

He shrugged.

“It sucks that you have to do it in the first place.” 

“Yeah…” you said softly, looking down at the knife you were now holding loosely in your lap. It was too dark for you to safely put it away. You didn’t love the idea of accidentally stabbing yourself in the leg. 

When you lifted your head again, you caught Sy in the process of looking away. Before you could call him on it, you noticed a small pond drawing closer through the windshield. 

“Take this next turn,” you said, pointing. “And it’s the third house on the right.”

Sy nodded, following your directions without comment. 

You smiled a little to yourself as you looked out the window again. Your grandmother had lived in the same house in the same little neighborhood - if you could even call it that - for your entire life. Even with the old globe streetlamps so few and far between, you knew exactly what was out there in the dark night. The road sat high, built up to avoid pooling and flooding with the frequent rains, and the houses sat far back from the road and low enough in elevation that the rooftops were barely even with the street level. The road and the properties were heavy with tall, skinny pine trees, taller than any you’d seen anywhere else. As a kid, you’d have sworn they helped hold up the sky.

Your grandmother’s house sat at the edge of the neighborhood, and a dense forest started at the back of her property line, held at bay by a wrought iron fence that circled the whole yard, complete with a gate across the driveway, blocking access to the patio, carport, and yard. It was the only house in the neighborhood with a light on by the front door, the only house still waiting on someone to come home.  

“You can stop here,” you said as Sy approached the top of the driveway.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I don’t want the dogs to go crazy and wake my grandma up.”

“Okay,” he said, putting the truck in park. “I’ll just wait up here until you make it inside, if that’s alright.”

You gave a nod, reaching for the door handle when he spoke again. 

“And I... Sorry for scaring you. Hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

“You did everything you could’ve done to make it easier,” you said with a small shrug and a smile. “And for the record… if there were more men like you around, I probably wouldn’t have to carry this so often.” You tapped the hilt of the knife. 

Sy didn’t seem to have any words to add to that, just gave you a slow nod.

The cab light clicked on automatically when you opened the door, and you took advantage of the light, crossing your ankle over your knee and tugging up your pant leg to replace the knife in its small sheath, adjusting your sock and boot to keep it stable. Sy watched the process without comment, finger tapping idly on the steering wheel and eyes lingering slightly on your ankle even after you’d pulled your pant leg back down. He cleared his throat and looked away as you hopped out of the truck. 

“Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for the ride.”

“Any time,” he said, a small smile crossing his face just long enough for you to believe he actually meant it. 

 You gave one final little nod before closing the door and turning to head down the long driveway. Despite the late hour, everything about it was familiar. The smell of pine and wet concrete. The nighttime symphony of crickets and frogs. The flicker of fireflies far back near the fenceline. You took a deep breath as you approached the gate, drawing the spare set of keys from your bag. You didn’t know how long you were going to stay, how long you even could stay, but if it was “heart” your editor was after, a nice soak in nostalgia certainly couldn’t hurt.

You let yourself in the back door, the same way everyone in your family did. The kitchen light had been left on, and the dogs were already standing there waiting for you, giving soft little woofs of greeting as they crowded your legs. You gave them their required pets and scritches, hushing them as they followed you through the dark house to the front door. You turned the outside light off, watching through the peephole as Sy’s truck drove away moments later. 

As you walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom, you sent the all clear texts, assuring everyone you’d made it home safely. Almost immediately, your phone began to buzz, signaling a call from your editor Bonnie. You took the last dark corner at a jog, closing yourself in the guest room before swiping the screen to answer.

“You’re up late,” you said quietly, feeling blindly for the light switch. “Do you ever actually sleep or do you have caffeine in an IV?”

“I’m always awake when my favorite talent is in mortal danger,” she said matter-of-factly.

You smiled. 

“Favorite talent or least annoying talent?”

The staticky sigh that followed was a very intentional non-answer. 

“You made it safely to Louisiana I assume? And are not currently being murdered by a genetically blessed serial killer?”

“Yeah, I made it fine,” you laughed.

“And the genetically blessed non serial killer is…?”

“Just a local I met. He gave me a ride home when my cousin bailed.”

There was a long silence.

“…And?”

“And…. He didn’t murder me. For which we should both be grateful.”

“Avoiding the details. Interesting.”

“Bonnie.”

“You’re a details kind of woman. The absence is noteworthy.”

“Fine. I met him at the only bar in town, and we talked for about an hour. I left alone. My cousin never showed up. He passed me walking down the side of the road like an idiot and stopped to help. Satisfied?”

“Did you draw him? I bet your readers would love him. Remember that detective you met a few months back? They lost their minds over that handsome face. Half of them wanted you to marry him on the spot.”

“Uh, yeah, I did draw him, but I didn’t keep the picture. It was just for fun. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a story or anything. It was just… bar talk, ya know? Nothing noteworthy.” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing how much Bonnie hated a missed opportunity. 

“Hmm. Well, if you see him again, maybe try and find something interesting there.”

“You asked for more heart,” you reminded her. “Which is not something I’m gonna find talking to a random guy. That’s why I’m at my grandmother’s in the first place, remember?”

“Have it your way,” she sighed. “Anyway, just wanted to check in and make sure you didn’t run into any trouble.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll let you get some rest, then. Since unlike me, you still sleep.” 

“Thanks,” you snorted. “I’ll have the draft of the next post ready for you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

The call ended before you could respond, just as it always did, and you were in the process of plugging in your phone when you heard a soft knock.

You peeked out the door to see your grandma standing in the dark hallway, wrapped in her purple housecoat and holding a small flashlight.

“Got up to use the bathroom and heard you talking,” she said in a whisper. “Wanted to say goodnight.” 

You smiled, holding your arms out for a hug. She squeezed you much tighter than it looked like she had any right to, pushing the air out of your lungs.

“Goodnight, Nana. Sorry to disturb you.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “Did you have fun?”

“Kat never came. I think she forgot. I had fun anyway though.”

She pulled back from you with a frown.

“You didn’t walk all that way home did you? Oh, that girl is getting an earful from me in the morning!”

“It’s alright,” you laughed, rubbing her shoulder. “Someone gave me a ride. I sent you a picture. You can tell me all about him in the morning.” 

“Him who?” she asked quickly. “Do you know his family name?”

“No, sorry. He said his name is Sy?”

“Oh,” she said with a deep exhale, her shoulders relaxing. “Well, that’s alright then. He’s a good boy.”

“Yeah?” you asked with a smile, trying not to laugh. 

“Oldest Syverson boy, right? Big beard?” 

“Yes.”

“Alright,” she sighed again. “I’ll invite him to dinner tomorrow to thank him. Goodnight, darlin.”

Your eyes widened as she kissed your cheek and turned to head back to her room.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to do all of that! I said thank you!”

She kept walking as if she hadn’t heard you.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

----------------------------------------

Thanks for reading, friends! I hope you all enjoyed it. Would love, love, love to hear from you!

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[toescratches]

The Sinclair brothers have work to do. A couple of tourists adventure into town. But unfortunately after they've been hunted down and cleaned up, the brothers come across more work and more problems. That being the now abandoned baby in the car.

Tw: Blood and gore(they kill obv), Bo is Bo, Vincent mentioned, Lester mentioned, they're slashers what do you expect, they won't kill the baby obv, the baby is a girl or AFAB

—————————————————————————

Bo looked out of the window as he sipped his morning coffee. Lester had just called and told him about the pair of tourists that he had guided to the town. He squinted and looked down the hill at the truck. The couple steps out of the car and looks around their surroundings.

He places his mug down on the table and steps back from the window. Lester has done his part. Now will be Bo, then Vincent...

Bo scoffs at the thought but picks up his cap and walks out of the house. He begins his way down the hill and towards the oblivious victims.

—————————————————————————

Bo peeked around the corner as the tourists walk around the ghost town. He has done this dozens of times, he knows what he is doing... But he still feels a tiny bit of hesitation. Why?

He wonders but quickly gathers himself and walks over to the wandering couple.

"Hello folks! What are y'all doing here?" He says with a strong southern accent.

The couple turns around. The woman slightly flinches at the sudden sounds of the strange man, but the husband only wipes away sweat from his forehead and speaks.

"Heya... We were looking for a gas station... You know where one would be?" The man asks from Bo with a heavy breathe from the heat. The woman stays behind him and looks at Bo with a confused and alert look.

"Of course! I'm the mechanic of the town. What do y'all need help with?" Bo asks with a forced chuckle.

The man gulps and nods. The heat is getting to him and the woman sways around with impatientancy. "Yeah umm... I think we blew a tire. Would've taken care of it by myself but we don't have a spare... Think you could be of assistance?" The tourist groans.

"Might need some gas too..." He sighs under his breath with his hands on his hips.

"I can do that. Just follow me. The gas station is just around the corner!" Bo crosses his arms and lets out a forced smile. After his words he slowly walks past the pair and makes his way towards the station.

The tourists look at each other for a moment and make eye contact. The woman shrugs and the man sighs in response. Soon the man follows Bo as his wife walks back to the car, ready to drive it to the station.

—————————————————————————

As soon as the pair of men step inside the gas station, Bo takes a screwdriver and easily stabs the mans neck. The attacker covers his victims mouth and gently moves the bleeding man to lay on the cement floor. Bo slightly pants as he looks down at the victim bleeding to death.

He sighs and pulls the screwdriver out in order to make the bleeding even worse. It's not even useful since the tourist is long gone...

The sounds of the truck pulling up to the station make Bo quickly turn around and look out of the see through door. He huffs in annoyance and slowly walks out of the station.

The woman hops out of the drivers seat and steps towards the mechanic at the door. She stills in her steps, a couple of meters away from the strange man. "Ummm... Where is my husband?" She asks with confusion and slight awkwardness.

"He's inside, looking at my products... Need any help with the car or would you like to go inside...? It's pretty hot out here..." He chuckles as he holds the bloodied screwdriver behind his back.

The woman sighs as she thinks over and looks back at the truck behind her.

She turns back around to look at the man in front of her. "Let's go inside." She akwardly chuckles.

Bo nods and steps aside from the door to make a way for the woman.

She smiles and walks to the door.

The tourist walks inside the station with the murderer behind her...

Bo notices her movements slowly coming to a stop. She freezes at the sight of her husband dead on the floor and his blood covering the ground.

She gasps and Bo quickly takes couple of steps forward and wraps his arms around the woman. She screams but Bo covers her mouth. She lets out muffled screams and protests as Bo holds her in her place.

The attacker lets out a annoyed and frustrated sigh and roughly pushes the woman to the ground. She violently hits the ground and Bo moves after her. Before she can even act, Bo has stabbed her neck as well.

She gurgles as she bleeds from her neck. Bo pulls the screwdriver out of her neck vein and the blood pools on the floor with a fast pace. She gurgles on the blood and struggles around in pain. Bo stares down at her with a hard gaze. She stares into his eyes as she takes her last breath and gives up. Her body stills but the blood keeps flowing out.

Bo tiredly sighs and stands up from the cold body.

He looks down at the mess around himself and huffs in annoyance. He needs a smoke.

Without a second thought he walks out of the station and for the truck outside. Bo walks for the passenger side door and roughly opens it. He begins to search around and toss stuff from his way as he looks for a pack.

As he digs around the front seats he suddenly hears a whimper from the backseat. With worry and shock Bo slowly turns his head and looks at the backseat.

And there it is. A baby in it's safety seat.

Bo's mouth is open with shock and confusion. He has frozen in his spot as he just stares at the little passenger. Before he can even think, he acts and moves over to the baby. Bo unbuckles the young child and picks her up. She cooes at the man holding her. Bo doesn't speak but moves with difficulty as he climbs out of the car and stands outside of it with the baby in his arms.

What is he supposed to do now?

He doesn't know. Bo feels large amount of confusion and slight panic.

Bo keep his "distance" from the baby, as much as possible as that is since he's holding it. The look on his face is one of confusion, panic and struggle. What the hell is he supposed to do?

Bo looks around, as if he's waiting for something, for someone, but all he gets is more of the cooing sounds from the child in his arms.

Bo looks back at the baby and he keeps breathing heavily. The baby only stares. Stupid kid, expecting something. Bo thinks and furrows his brows as he turns to look at the museum up the hill. Screw this. Vince can handle it. He scoffs and places the baby back into it's safety seat. Bo struggles but eventually figures out how to get the seat belt off the safety seat. He lifts the carrier with the baby in it and begins his way towards the House of Wax.

—————————————————————————

finally had the energy to finish at least the first part.

PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT PT2!

i need ideas so please comment and criticism is appreciated

at first I started this story on my other acco but didn't like it (and it was my first work) so i decided to write it again with my other acco(this one)

i have daddy issues that's why this exists

[64yrsold]

about you

“I don’t want to bother you…” my voice wavered on the phone, “But, I think… I think you should come and get me,”

“Where are you?” he replied immediately, and I told him the address. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“No, I’m okay,” I answered, already feeling relieved knowing he was on his way. His voice was anchoring, and I listened to him like gospel.

“Alright,” his car started, “I’m headed out. I will see you in five minutes.”

“Okay,” I whispered, and hung up the phone. I sighed, watching my breath dissipate against the black sky. I could still hear my friends celebrating in the background as I sat on their front porch, but it all felt very distant. Maybe just a dream. I leaned against the paint-chipped railing, watching cars roll by, headlights reflecting off the slick streets.

“There she is,” he called, stepping out of his car.

I blinked. Had I fallen asleep?

“Hi,” I smiled, and he strode towards me, hands tucked into his coat pockets. He frowned, stepping closer.

“Were you…” he paused, “They didn’t come check on you?”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, and stood up, a bit wobbly, “It’s my fault, I just had a bit too much to drink,”

He offered a hand to help me down the stairs, and slung my arm over his shoulder.

“Shit friends,” he stated.

“I don’t know them that well,” I shrugged. He opened the car door, and unbuttoned his coat. He wrapped the heavy jacket around me, warm and soaked with his scent, and guided me to the passenger seat. He buckled me in, his hair brushing my face as he leaned over me. I wished he would stay like this. The seatbelt clicked in place, and he pulled back, looking at me closely.

“Precious cargo,” he winked.

He closed the door, walking around the car. He paused for a moment, staring at the house. A sigh. Then he continued, hopping into the driver’s seat. He blew on his hands to warm them, and turned up the heat. He pushed the vents to face towards me.

“Where to?” he asked, “I can drop you at home, if you’d like.”

“Sure,” I said, “It’s not too far from here. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” he said quickly, shaking his head. He opened his mouth, but closed it before saying anything. He shifted the car into reverse, and we pulled off of the driveway. I gazed out the window, the passing street lamps flashing by me. I knew if I didn’t look outside, I would be staring at him.

The car slowed, tires scratching against the pavement as he pulled towards the curb.

“This is the one?” he asked, pointing at my apartment building. I nodded.

I looked at my hands, fingers knotting together. The air was thick and warm, blanketing us in his idling car.

“Thank you,” I said, reaching for the door.

“Wait,” he said, grabbing my wrist, “Sorry.” He pulled his hand away. “I just wanted… Well, I guess, thank you.”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for calling,” he said, looking at me with pleading eyes. “It feels nice, y’know, to know that you think of me.”

I scoffed.

“I think of you constantly,” I said, not thinking. Blood crept up my face, and I felt my chest tighten.

“Really?” he said. I glimpsed up at him, and was surprised to see his face soft, earnest. I nodded slowly.

“I’m consumed by you,” he admitted, and his hand cautiously brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just torture without you.”

“Don’t joke about that,” I shook my head, smiling down at my hands, “Because I’ll really believe you.”

“I am not joking,” he told me, “I am not fucking joking.”

I reached a hand out to find his. He took it, tracing his fingers over my knuckles and bones. He flipped it over, pressing his thumb along the lines in my palm.

“Do you… Do you have to go?” he mumbled, pulling my hand to his mouth.

I shook my head.

“Thank you,” he smiled, kissing each knuckle. He held my fist to his forehead, bowing his head and sighing deeply. “I want to… I want to be careful with you.”

“Okay,” I murmured, and he sighed again.

“Just… You’ll have to be patient with me, okay?”

“Okay.”

[with-paint]

Bodies, Bites, and Bitches

Part 1 of ? of Poly Teen Wolf Rewrite Series

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader (platonic paring) Scott McCall x reader (platonic pairing)

Word Count: 8.7k

Summary: You and your best friends prepare for sophomore year only for corpses, animal bites, new abilities, and a chilling red head keep your gang from having a normal first day.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a dead body, bi!stiles,

A/N: Stiles is the most bisexual character I’ve ever seen so he’s bi in this fic. Mhm. In regards to the pairings, at the moment they are all just friends. Tadaaaa. Here’s the ficcc. Also gif is actually mine 🤷. More notes at the end if you wanna read what I have to say. If not that’s chill.

The soft whirring of your washing machine rumbled through the basement, spilling into your room from the laundry room next door. You stretched your arms above your head, eyes tired. 

You took a glance at the bottom corner of your laptop: 2 AM and lowered your arms with a groan. Why did you always do this to yourself? Every year, without fail, you pushed all your summer assignments to the last day. You had months to do them! But no, you just couldn’t. You had to write a paper about these drinks or something. Some history thing. Taking AP World History was a fucking mistake. You liked history, sure, but not enough to write a paper in the summer. It made you want to bash your brains out. 

You just couldn’t make words come out of you. 

You blew a breath of air out of your mouth and rubbed your eyes. This was not going great. 

Your phone lit up, buzzing happily next to you, the sound resonating from your wooden desk. You snatched it up and couldn’t resist an eye roll upon seeing who was texting you.

------------------------

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): I WAS EAVESDROPPING AND SOME JOGGERS FOUND A BODY IN THE PRESERVE 

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): MEET ME AT SCOTTS 

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): WERE ALL GOING TO FIND IT 

------------------------

Leave it to Stiles to bother you and Scott at two in the morning to try to find a dead human body. You glanced at your pathetic excuse of a paper and sighed. 

------------------------

Y/N (2:03 AM): Be there in ten

------------------------

You hugged your brown hoodie to yourself as you trudged through the thick blanket of leaves surrounding Scott’s house. Cringing as they crunched loudly under you, you swore under your breath. You were going to kill Stiles. 

You glanced back at the street in front of Scott’s house and didn’t see his blue Jeep yet. Good, more time to scheme Stiles’ gruesome death. 

Maybe you could hit him with his car. Let his prized possession end him. You’re sure he would actually like that. Be rather touched by your consideration of his feelings. 

You snorted to yourself and watched in amusement as the blue Jeep itself swerved to park behind your car. Stiles clambered out of the driver’s seat in a hurry. He slammed the door rather loudly for two in the morning and you cringed and stole a glance up at the house. Hoping to God it didn’t wake up Ms. McCall. 

Stiles took a step towards you, but lurched backwards, his jacket pocket stuck in the door. You watched as he spun around to free himself, curses flying from him as he tugged on the handle. You raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the railing of Scott’s porch. 

Idiot. 

Why were you even friends with him? 

He bounded up to you with a grin. 

“Hi.” He breathed out, cheeks red from the cold and most likely his embarrassment. 

Oh right. He was endearing. Ever since you three were small you had a soft spot for Stiles. He was always so earnest. Brushing off embarrassment, always having something funny to say, being the smartest person in the room. He was great to be around. 

Except when he had stupid fucking ideas. 

Like this one. 

This was a stupid fucking idea. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and punched his arm before he could say anything else. 

“Ow!” He cried out, shying away from you as he gripped his bicep. 

“Shhh!” You hissed, waving your hands in the space between you. His offended expression turned sheepish as he looked up at Ms. McCall’s window. 

“Sorry.” Stiles said, laughing awkwardly. You rolled your eyes and moved to the beam on the right. Stiles’ eyes lit up as he rushed over. 

“We should go knock on Scott’s window.” You said with a grin. Stiles bounced on the balls of his feet and nodded. 

“Yes. Absolutely.” 

You looked up at the roof hanging over you and then at the railing. 

“Here, stand on the railing, climb up, and once you're up, lend me a hand.” You explained gesturing to the railing. Stiles nodded and did as you said. He was about to lean down to grab your hand when you both heard the door open. You looked at Stiles in fear, his expression mimicking that of a deer in headlights. 

“Hide!” You whispered at him and quickly hopped over the rail into the big bush. You dropped to the ground and stayed in a crouch, trying to keep hidden. 

You hoped to God it wasn’t Ms. McCall. You couldn’t stand the embarrassment. She already thought Scott had a crush on you, if she saw you outside her house at 2 AM, you’d never hear the end of it. 

You heard the deck creak and from your vantage point, you saw a red hoodie creep closer. Scott McCall. You breathed out slowly and moved to stand, but of course the third of your trio was an idiot and ruined the calm of the night by falling. 

Stiles fell from his spot on the roof, dangling upside down. His feet jammed under the trellis that Ms. McCall grew tomatoes on in the spring. You shrieked, jumping up, thinking he was about to fall on his face. Scott screamed, raising the bat, that he apparently had at the two of you. And lastly Stiles started yelling as the crooked jaw boy raised a baseball bat to his head. You three screamed for a couple seconds before realising there was no danger, and you were all being idiots. 

“Stiles! Y/N! What the hell are you doing?!” Scott cried, lowering his bat, and staring slack jawed at the upside-down boy and then looking down at you with disbelief. 

“You weren't answering your phone.” Stiles cried out gesturing to you like your presence there made him innocent. You stifled a smile and wiped at your forehead. These boys were going to age you.

“Why do you have a bat?” You asked, propping your elbow on the porch railing. You put your chin in your hand and batted your eyelashes up at Scott. 

He reddened and let his hand fall behind his back, as if he could hide the fact, he almost used Stiles as a piñata. 

“I thought you were a predator.” He mumbled to Stiles, spreading his arms wide. You grinned at his embarrassment. 

“A pre— I— wha—,” Stiles flailed. You were kind of amazed he was hanging so well. 

“Look. I know it's late, but you gotta hear this.” Stiles' arms stopped fighting gravity and hung straight down, nearly hitting you in the face. You glared up at him but decided to let him talk. You also wanted to know what the fuck was going on. 

“I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.” He looked down at you and grinned manically. You raised your eyebrows. Shit. You didn’t know dead bodies got that much interest. 

They only would if the killer hadn’t been caught.

You froze and looked up at Stiles. He wasn’t expecting you three to waltz into the woods while a literal murderer was on the loose, was he?

You tried to stop your thoughts from racing. The body was probably old. Stiles had texted you that joggers had found it. No jogger would be out at two, it had to have been found earlier. It was probably fine. You chewed at your lip and looked back up at them. 

“For what?” Scott asked. 

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles said, his breath visible in the late summer night. He used this dramatic ass reveal to finally get himself down. He unstuck his feet and fell into the bush beside you. 

“Hi.” He said grinning at you as he stuck the landing. You smiled. 

“Hi Stiles.”

“A dead body?” Scott cried looking down at the both of you. You snorted at this and rolled your eyes. Leave it to Scott to do a reality check. 

“No, a body of water.” Stiles deadpanned looking at you in exasperation. “Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He hissed looking back up at Scott. He climbed over the railing and stood on the porch next to Scott. 

“Need help?” Stiles asked, looking at you. You shrugged and raised your hand. Scott grabbed your hand and hauled you up, probably eager to listen to the rest of the story. You picked some leaves off your shirt as you stood next to him. 

“Were they murdered?” You asked, trying to see if your killer theory held water. 

“Nobody knows yet.” Stiles said, putting his hands on his hips. “Just that it was a girl, probably in her 20s.”

“Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?” Scott asked annoyance on his face at how casually Stiles was speaking. You raised your eyebrows and looked at Stiles. That was a good fucking point you hadn’t thought about yet. 

Stiles couldn’t contain his grin. “That's the best part.” He paused for effect looking between you and Scott. “They only found half.” He sang grinning fully now.

You and Scott shared a look of disbelief. 

“We're going.” Stiles said with a smirk. You reached down and grabbed the bat in Scott’s arms. 

Scott nodded absently as you gripped it tighter, seeming to agree you should be the one to have it. 

“Well. Your car or mine?” You asked, twisting your grip on the bat. Stiles drummed on his thighs in excitement. 

“That’s the spirit! Obviously, mine.” He said and joyfully cantered to his Jeep. You fell in with Scott as you walked over. 

“You sure this is a good idea?” You whispered to him, trying to keep Stiles from overhearing. 

Scott shrugged. “Nope.”

You threw your head back in a laugh despite the slowly worsening atmosphere. This was almost positively a horrible idea. You felt like the kids from that movie, Stand by Me. You read The Body by Stephan King last summer, but you could only remember the actor’s names and not the characters. Maybe you could be River Phoenix. You had such a big crush on him when you were younger. You eyed Stiles as he happily opened his car, he was Corey Feldman for sure. 

Scott opened the back and got in before you even reached the car, knowing you got car sick and needed to have the passenger seat. You smiled to yourself as you slid in the familiar blue Jeep. 

As much of a pain these boys caused you, you really did love them. 

You sucked in a breath and turned to look at your friends. 

“Let’s go find a dead body.” 

---

Stiles pulled slowly up to the parking lot next to the Beacon Hills Preserve. The ominous ‘No Entry After Dark’ on the sign made you gulp. Might as well break that rule too. 

Before Stiles could turn off the car you unbuckled your seatbelt and jumped out, Scott’s baseball bat gripped tightly in your hand. You personally didn’t want to be in the car when Stiles would start either a rant or a speech about something or another. He talked when he was nervous. You toed at some rocks on the ground for a few moments before Scott stepped out of the car too. 

Stiles bounced over in a flash, standing with his back to the entrance and looking at both of you. 

“Shall we?” He hummed and walked backwards a few steps, looking at Scott, then at you with a smirk. You stuck your tongue out at him and gripped the bat even tighter. 

“Why don’t you lead the way?” You cooed making Stiles make a face at you. He spun around and started walking into the forest. 

“After you.” Scott mumbled quietly. You didn’t feel like teasing him and just nodded, following the familiar buzz cut deeper in the woods. 

---

“We're seriously doing this?” Scott asked as you three walked. You had been waking for maybe ten minutes. Stiles had pulled a flashlight from his pocket and wasn’t being subtle at shining it everywhere. 

“You two are always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles called from in front of you. You scoffed and looked around the creepy forest, knowing there was a dead woman lying somewhere. 

“Yeah well, I meant like a carnival or something.  Not a half dead girl in the preserve.” You muttered kicking a stick. 

“And I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow.” Scott said from somewhere behind you. You smiled as Stiles looked over his shoulder to give you a look. 

“Right, cause being a benchwarmer requires finesse.” You teased. 

“No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.” You had to admit Scott’s determination and idiocy was rather charming. 

“Hey, I like how you think, Scotty.” You said making your voice sweet. “Gotta believe it to be true. That whole manifesting idea.” 

“Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.” Stiles added, giving you a sly smile over his shoulder.  

Scott laughed lightly at your teasing and you three walked for a few more moments. You twirled the bat lazily. 

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott said, breaking the silence. You blinked in surprise; you didn’t think to ask that. 

“Huh!” Stiles said, stopping in his tracks. You and Scott caught up to him and you two looked at him in disbelief. “I didn't even think about that.” He confessed sheepishly. 

“Yikes.” You said. Scott snorted and looked around the dark woods suspiciously. “And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” 

Stiles nodded with an impressed look, “Also something I didn't think about.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You said with your eyes narrowed. 

“It's…comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Scott said with a shrug. You smiled at him and brushed some hair out of your face. 

“I know.” Stiles said with a triumphant smile. Stiles gestured with his head towards a small hill and started to walk up it. You gripped some roots as you trudged upwards. You heard the gasps of air behind you and felt a pang of worry at Scott. 

You slowed once you got to the top and watched as he fell into a sit against a tree, shaking his inhaler and taking a puff. 

“Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” He gasped out to Stiles who was continuing onwards. 

You bit your lip but followed Stiles as he scrambled to lay on his stomach in the dry leaves. You hurried to lay next to him, and Scott fell in on your other side. 

You three stared at a line of men walking with their own flashlights and dogs. You grimaced and hastily shoved Stiles’ flashlight into the leaves. 

“Put that out! They’ll see it.” You hissed. He scrambled with it before clicking the off button. He hurried onto his feet and jogged away. 

“Wait, come on!” He called in a whisper yell as he ran. 

“Stiles!” Scott yelled, shaking his inhaler. You looked between them and moved to chase after Stiles. Scott had his inhaler; he could keep up. 

“Wait up!” Scott yelled at you. You slowed down but kept following Stiles in his frenzy to go…wherever it was that Stiles was going. 

“Stiles!” You yelled this time. You kept your eyes on the line of men moving your way. You rushed forward, following Stiles as he tried to find the end of their line and get to safety. You heard Scott trip behind you and him yell your name. 

“Y/N!” You almost rammed into Stiles as he stopped to look back for Scott. You did the same and took a couple steps towards where you heard his voice last. 

A dog barking, much louder this time, stopped you cold as you felt the warmth of a flashlight on you. Stiles fell to his back as the dog came closer and tried to attack him. You looked at the man holding him. 

“Stop!” You yelled trying to keep your friend safe. Stiles kept scrambling back. 

“Hold it right there! And you don’t move!” The cop yelled, keeping his flashlight on you and the dog on Stiles. You gulped and looked helplessly as the dog strained against the leash to try and get at Stiles. 

“Hang on, hang on.” Someone yelled. You turned and nearly started swearing once you saw who it was. 

Sheriff Stilinski. Stiles’ dad. 

“This little delinquent belongs to me.” He said looking down at Stiles with disappointment. He looked up at you and sighed. “I know that one too.” 

Stiles scrambled up and you gripped his sleeve. You gave him a once over to make sure he was alright, and you both turned to the Sherriff like you were children again and he caught you stealing cookies from Mrs. Stilinski’s cookie jar. 

“Dad, how are you doing?” Stiles asked, trying to appear casual. You let his sleeve go and shook your head at him. 

“So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” Mr. Stilinski asked, lips tight in disappointment. Stiles flailed for an answer. 

“No, heh. Not the boring ones.” He confessed with a grimace. Mr. Stilinski nodded softly and looked at you. 

“I see you dragged Y/N down with you as usual.” He looked around at the trees then. “Where’s the third of your trio?”

You wanted to speak up, but decided this was between Stiles and his dad, talking would only make things worse. 

“Who, Scott?” Stiles exclaimed with a fake laugh. “Sc - Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow.” He sighed and looked at you quickly in apology. You knew what he was about to say, and you were glad the Sheriff wasn’t looking at you. Your disgusted face would give away the lie. 

“It's just us. In the woods. Alone. Romantic time?” Stiles said, making it sound completely unbelievable as his voice cracked on the last word. You pursed your lips as Mr. Stilinski looked at you and then raised his flashlight to look into the woods. 

“Scott, you out there? Scott?” He yelled scanning through the trees for any sign of him. He seemed to be satisfied and looked back at you and Stiles with a sigh.  

“Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car.” Mr. Stilinski stepped forward and grabbed Stiles by the back of the neck, hauling him forward. You followed, baseball bat dragging sadly in the mud. 

“And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy and how to treat someone on a date.” You covered your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing as you three walked back the way you had come. 

Stiles kept saying ‘ow’ every two seconds, probably hoping to annoy his dad into letting his neck go, but no dice. 

While Mr. Stilinski was distracted, you stole a lasting glance behind you, hoping Scott could see you. A skinny, asthmatic, sixteen-year-old, all alone in the woods with a plethora of police and half a dead body. What could go wrong? Would the police catch Scott? And if they didn't, how would he get home? 

Beacon Hills wasn’t the biggest town, and you weren’t very far into the ever-expanding preserve. But Scott might have to take a roundabout way through the woods to get to the road. Being seen by the police wouldn’t be a good thing. Especially if Mr. Stilinski wasn’t there. They might think he was a killer or something. 

That led you to another thought as you were walking back to Stiles’ car. Rain started to trickle down the canopy of leaves, leaving your hoodie damp and heavy. 

The cop seemed so ready to catch someone. Was so ready to let his dog attack Stiles. His face when the Sheriff had told him off was somehow disappointed. 

You crossed your arms and stepped into the parking lot next to Stiles’ Jeep. 

They haven't found whoever killed the woman. So the killer really was out there. Maybe even out here in the woods.

Mr. Stilinski let his hand drop and he gently shoved Stiles closer to his car. You stepped in next to him and faced the Sheriff together. 

He sighed and brought a hand to wipe some rain away from his eyes. 

“Stiles. I know you have an interest in these things, but there is a dead woman in the woods. Her family is in mourning, the entire department is on the lookout trying to give them some peace. This is real life, not an interesting movie or tv show.” Stiles ducked his head in embarrassment. You kicked some pebbles. 

“The woods at night is no place for teenagers. Especially when there is something dangerous going on. When I get calls about cases,” Mr. Stilinski made a pointed look at Stiles. “Do not follow me to them. For Pete's sake you could get hurt.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but you elbowed him as inconspicuously as you could. He shut up.

“And bringing Y/N here. I don’t believe you guys were on a date, but if you were, really?” It was his turn to give you a look. One that read disappointment. “Thought you had more sense than to go canoodling in the woods with Stiles.”

“Hey!” Stiles interjected as you grinned at the Sheriff. 

“Yes sir.” You said trying not to laugh at the offended expression Stiles was making at you two. The Sheriff smiled and gave Stiles a pat on the shoulder. 

“We’ll talk more in the morning. Now get Y/N home. You two have school tomorrow.” And with that he gave you two one last look and headed back into the preserve. 

“C’mon Mieczyslaw.” You said making Stiles groan as you got into his car. 

“I’m so lucky you’re here. He would’ve talked my ear off about safety and privacy and being a sixteen-year-old.” Stiles huffed, grimacing. He turned the key into the ignition and you two pulled away from the woods and whatever was laying in it. 

You leaned your head onto the window and closed your eyes. Stiles was silent for once as he started the drive to your house. 

Your car wouldn’t be in the driveway. But as long as you left for school before your parents woke up it would be fine. Could have Stiles pick you up and give them a lie about wanting to ask your teacher a question. 

You grimaced as you thought of it. Early on the first day of school? Your parents better not start having expectations from you. 

Stiles drummed a pattern on the steering wheel with his thumbs and it was a comforting sound. 

You couldn’t help but notice Mr. Stilinski avoided saying anything about what killed the woman. Just that the woods were dangerous. Maybe he meant that there was either an animal or a murderer on the loose. You didn’t know of any animal that could rip a person apart at the waist though. 

Probably a person. 

People were vicious. 

“You think it was an anim-” 

“No.” You said cutting Stiles off. He looked over at you and stuck his tongue out. At least you were in agreement it was a person not an animal attack. 

“Should’ve left you in the woods. Scott wouldn’t treat me this way.” He sniffed as he pulled into your driveway. You smirked and unbuckled your seatbelt. 

“Mhm. Pick me up at 6 so my parents don’t see my car is missing.” Stiles groaned and leaned his head down on the steering wheel. You laughed and ran a hand over his buzzed hair. He swatted at your hand as you laughed some more. You got out of his Jeep and glared at the sky as rain pummeled you. 

“Bye Stiles.” You called as you walked up to your door. You turned to see him mocking you by mouthing the words with a miserable expression. You smiled as he drove away. 

Scott was dead for sure.

You pursed your lips and nodded. 

Yep. 

Dead. 

You and Stiles were also the worst friends in the history of friends. 

You pushed open your front door and looked around suspiciously for your parents. Thankfully they were asleep, and you trudged downstairs to your room. 

You glanced at your open laptop and groaned; eyes squeezed shut in pain. 

The fuckin essay. 

---

You groaned and hit the off button on your alarm clock. 5:40 AM flashed at you in angry red lighting. 

Fuckin joy. 

You were going to kill Stiles again for this. 

Every plan he had; made you suffer. You smiled to yourself as you rolled out of bed. You could probably blame everything on Stiles if you thought hard enough. 

You stumbled into your bathroom. 

Your broken finger in 4th grade was from a volleyball being thrown at you and it bending the wrong way. Who was next to you and could probably have gotten the ball? Stiles. You brushed your teeth as you cussed out baby Stiles in your mind. 

You got caught cheating on your 8th grade science test. Who was the idiot who couldn’t move his paper a little closer to you, so it didn’t look suspicious? Stiles. 

You changed your clothes quickly and quietly made your way upstairs. 

Everything was obviously Stiles’ fault. You and Scott were just poor accomplices. 

You were suddenly filled with memories of when you and Scott had shoved Stiles onto the ice-skating rink one year which resulted in him breaking an arm. Guilt swarmed in your mind and you sighed it away.

You grabbed your backpack and shrugged. Obviously, Stiles’ fault for not knowing how to skate. 

You tumbled outside and were relieved to see the Jeep sitting in your driveway. You hated waiting in the cold. You shoved your backpack at your feet and climbed into the car. 

“Morning.” You said with a yawn. Stiles covered his mouth as he yawned in response. 

“I really hate you.” He said and pulled out to drive to the school. 

You nodded. 

That was fair. 

“You get Scott’s text last night?” Stiles asked, turning onto the main road. You straightened your shirt and shook your head, looking over at him. 

He was wearing a blue shirt with a target on it, a gray hoodie, and a blazer of all things on top of it. He looked kind of stupid, but somehow kind of cool? 

Maybe cool wasn’t the right word. It matched him. It was a thrown together outfit that somehow coordinated to match his personality. Random pieces that shouldn’t fit together but do. Like the things he said never seemed to correlate, but they still made you and Scott laugh because of how true they were. 

Stiles pulled into a parking spot towards the back of the school, as a sophomore, your class wasn’t prioritized for parking spots. He dug out his phone and handed it to you.

------------------------

Scott (3:43 AM): I just got bit by some animal or something. I’m at home by the way 

Stiles (3:43 AM): Shit how bad is it? You text Y/N?

Scott (3:43 AM): I texted, but she didn’t answer 

Stiles (3:44 AM): I’m sorry man. You should get some sleep and like patch it up or something

Scott (3:45 AM): I’m goin to bed but I got a huge gauze on the bite 😬 

------------------------

You turned to Stiles a little sheepishly. You had chucked your phone on your bed and cranked out your stupid essay until around 4 AM. 

You didn’t want any more texts from either of your idiot friends. In retrospect that was really stupid as Scott could’ve tried texting you for help or something. But you were glad he was okay and got home. 

You raised your eyebrow and handed him back his phone. 

“A bite, hm?”

“Yeah, I know.” He said, turning to grab his backpack from the back seat. You jerked out of the way when his lacrosse stick almost whacked you in the face.

“He could’ve gotten mauled or something. We’re grounded from hanging with Scott for at least a week.” You said making Stiles whip around and shove you lightly into your door. 

“We’re grounded?!” He exclaimed jaw dropping, but you noticed the corners of his mouth were tilting upwards in a smile. 

“Yeah, grounded!” You replied, laughing and threw your door open. He laughed and followed you outside. 

“What, did your parents implement this?” Stiles mused nudging you. You made a face as you both started walking towards the entrance. 

“It’s me. Don’t want Scott to get dragged into more danger for at least a week.” You said crossing your arms. Stiles groaned. 

“Then we can’t go to the stupid restaurant you love.” Stiles said, gesturing wildly. It was your turn for your jaw to drop and you spun around to walk backwards, wanting to face Stiles instead of glance at him sideways. 

“Okay first off, Kelly’s isn’t stupid. Not my fault you and Scott decided to order the spicy chili fries. It says ‘spicy’ on it. You two should’ve known it would kill your stomach and give you  diarrhe-” Stiles cut you off by rushing forward and covering your mouth with his palm. You glared at him and licked his hand making him jerk away in disgust. 

“Don’t need to be yelling that for the whole school to hear.” Stiles said with an awkward laugh, wiping his hand on your shoulder. You rolled your eyes but let him do it. 

“Oh, look there’s Scotty!” You yelled suddenly, spotting your friend by the plants in front of the entrance. You widened your eyes at Stiles playfully and ran over, leaving him to chase after you. 

“Alright let’s see the damage.” You said bounding over to Scott. He sighed and lifted his shirt without another word. 

“Ooh!” Stiles cringed out as he came to stand next to you, looking at the large white bandage on Scott’s otherwise golden skin. 

“Yeah.” Scott said flatly. 

Stiles and you made to touch it and Scott jerked back with a Whoa! 

“It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf.” He said, narrowing his eyes at you two. 

“A wolf bit you?” Stiles asked, looking at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. At least he wasn’t knifed by whoever killed the woman. Animal attack wasn’t so bad, even if it could never be a wolf. 

“Uh huh.” Scott said. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and shared a look with Stiles. “No. Wasn’t a wolf” 

“I heard a wolf howling.” 

“No, you didn't.” Stiles said, crossing his arms. Scott floundered and looked at you in disbelief. 

“What do you mean, no, I didn't? How do you know what I heard?” Scott asked annoyance bleeding into his voice. 

“California doesn't have wolves. There was this whole eradication thing ages ago. Did you not listen in middle school history, you nerd?” You asked tilting your head to look at Scott. Stiles nodded in agreement. 

“Really?” Scott asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, really.” Stiles said with a small laugh. “There are no wolves in California.”

You leaned your head on Scott’s shoulder then. Your forehead pressing onto him. He absentmindedly patted your head. 

“All right, well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not gonna believe me when I tell you I found the body.” Scott said triumphantly. You sighed and pushed off Scott as Stiles grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him a little. 

“You— are you kidding me?”

“No, guys, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month.” Scott said with a shudder. You frowned and patted his arm sympathetically. 

“Oh, God, that is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since,” Stiles looked around to think of something better than dead bodies and grinned, eyes catching something. “—Since the birth of Lydia Martin.”

The girl in question walked by, strawberry curls bouncing as she smiled with her friends. “Hey, Lydia— You look— Like you're gonna ignore me.” Stiles said with a grin fading. Scott snickered and you tried to hide your smile at Stiles making an ass out of himself. You grabbed your water from your backpack. 

“Stiles you get obsessed way too easily.” You said taking a sip of the water. He spun around, arms almost whacking into Scott as he looked at you. 

“I do not! It’s just Lydia Martin.” You gave him an unimpressed look and took another sip. 

“Remember Luke Freeman in fifth grade?” You said talking around your straw. Scott snorted into his hand at Stiles’ face. You started ticking names off your fingers. 

“Or Jake Amin? Or Olivia Diaz? Or-” 

Stiles cut you off by slapping your water bottle out of your hand. You watched it spill onto the ground, it lands on its side, water pooling from it. 

You looked up at Stiles with eyes narrowed, annoyed. Scott bent down with a wince and handed it back to you. 

“Okay! Let’s talk about something other than all the people I’ve had desperate crushes on. Don’t need to dwell on that right now.” Stiles exclaimed, putting a hand on your shoulder, and shoving you towards the school entrance. You made eye contact with Scott and cackled as you were shoved. 

“Scott, you're the cause of this, you know.” Stiles grumbled, hiking up his backpack. 

“Uh huh.”

“Draggin' me down to your nerd depths.” Stiles continued as you three stepped into the building. “Me and Y/N are nerds by association. We’ve been scarlet - nerded by you.”

You shook your head at Stiles with a smile on your face. 

“Oh hey, I’ll stay for your practice and maybe you drive me and Scott over to his house? I need my car.” You asked moving to walk towards your locker. Stiles nodded, eyes darting around the hallway. You and Scott exchanged unamused looks as Stiles’ eyes settled on Lydia Martin. 

He was a mess. 

“We’ll see you later Y/N.” Scott said, dragging Stiles towards their class. You smiled and turned the other direction to head towards your history class. It was always annoying when they had a class together and you didn’t. But you had two classes with Scott and two with Stiles, so it made up for it. One of the classes had them both in it. You were looking forward to that one: Chemistry. It was going to be a shit show for sure. 

You dropped your bag down next to a desk in the back and crossed your arms on the table and nestled into them. Maybe you could sleep through the misery and maybe your teacher would forget to ask for everyone to turn in their essays. 

“Alright class, put your summer essays into the basket over there.” Your older teacher said breezing into the room once the bell rang. 

Or not. 

You handed your paper to an acquaintance with a puppy dog look, and he rolled his eyes and walked over to the basket for you. 

“You’re pathetic Y/N.” Danny Mahealani said sitting back down in front of you. You stuck your tongue out at him and rested your head back into your arms. 

---

The bell rang and you sat up in a jolt. No one seemed to notice that you had fallen asleep, and you grabbed your bag and followed Danny out with a sheepish smile directed towards your teacher. 

“Pathetiiic.” Danny called as you headed to Scott’s locker. You flipped him off over your shoulder and smiled at Scott in greeting. You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw he was staring off across the hall. You turned to see what he was looking at. If he was going to stare so openly then you might as well.

A tall pretty girl with pale skin and a long blue scarf was talking to Lydia Martin. You blinked in surprise and turned to look back at Scott. 

Someone was smitten and it was only 9:00 in the morning. Stiles looked longingly at Lydia, and you rolled your eyes. 

Make that two people smitten. 

You clapped loudly and they both blinked in surprise to see you standing there. 

“Who’s she?” You asked, nodding behind you. 

Cierra, a girl you used to be partners with in science last year, pulled up next to Stiles. “She's in our English class. She’s new. Her name is Allison Argent.” 

You nodded at her, impressed. Stiles and Scott were idiots, they were too busy drooling to give you the juicy information. 

You settled in between Scott and Stiles and leaned against the lockers. 

“Can someone tell me how she’s here all of five minutes, and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?” Cierra asked, making you snort at Stiles' face. He looked both envious and way too knowledgeable on the workings of Lydia Martin. You crossed your arms, knowing he was about to say something either stupid or true. 

“Because she's hot. Beautiful people herd together.” 

You weren’t disappointed. Stupid, yet true. 

“Nuh uh there’s gotta be a reason.” Cierra said with furrowed brows. 

“Name one person in their group that isn’t hot. Just one. Name one.” Stiles said getting surprisingly worked up about this. You thought for a moment and snapped your fingers. 

“Danny isn’t the best looking.” You mainly said this because of him razzing you earlier. He was fine. Liking someone based on looks was stupid anyway. 

“That’s cause you aren’t a gay guy.” Stiles said, waving his hand at you in dismissal. You laughed and shifted to look at Scott. He was still staring at Allison and Lydia. You looked over. Also, Jackson Whittemore was there now. Yikes. 

You never understood what Lydia saw in him, but then again, she seemed rather shallow. 

But you didn’t really know either of them. Maybe Jackson was a nice guy? You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you thought that. Yeah, no. He was a total dick. 

The warning bell rang, and you sighed. You grabbed Scott’s sleeve and tugged him away from his creepy staring. 

“C’mon we got chemistry.” You said and pulled Stiles along for good measure. Cierra gave you a look that said, ‘why do you talk to these idiots?’ And rushed away to her next class. 

“Yo! Lay off the merchandise.” Stiles huffed pulling away from you. You rolled your eyes and shoved him into the Chemistry classroom.

Why did you hang out with them? 

---

School passed quickly with every class containing talks about the syllabus and talk about the body. At lunch Scott announced their English teacher had said a person was in custody. You nearly threw your sandwich at Stiles when he didn’t know who it was. He was supposed to be good at keeping tabs on criminal activity in Beacon Hills. He was an honest disappointment. 

The last bell rang, and you stumbled out of your ceramics class that you had to share with Lydia and Allison.

You eyed them as you walked behind them to the lacrosse field. 

Where to begin with Lydia Martin.

Stiles had a crush on her since the third grade. Well, he had a crush on a lot of people since then, but she was always the constant one. She was very beautiful, in a sophisticated way. You didn’t know what the Martin’s did, but it had to be something with a lot of money. That, or Lydia was amazing at buying knock off designer brands. If that was the case, then she went up several rungs on her likability ladder. 

Other than her clear sense of high-end fashion, there wasn’t much you knew about her. She had a lot of friends and was dating Jackson Whittemore who was the captain of the lacrosse team. But that was it? As long as Stiles had been trailing after her you never really saw a glimpse into her personality. Sure, you could make deductions based on what you say; entitled, rude, cunning, but you didn’t actually know her. 

You thought her entitled and rude because of how dismissive she acted towards Stiles. Then again if you were a hot popular girl and a gangly nerdy boy wouldn’t stop hitting on you, then yeah you would be dismissive too. Hell, if anyone wouldn’t stop hitting on you for years you would be uncomfortable. 

You bit you lip and decided fuck it.

“Hey, you’re Allison, right? The new girl?” You asked, stepping in line with the two other girls. Lydia blinked in surprise at you so clearly disregarding her authority. Allison turned to smile at you. 

“Yeah I am.” She said warmly. 

You stuck out your hand as you three stepped outside to walk towards the lacrosse field. 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You said and she shook your hand with a laugh. Lydia eyed you carefully but didn’t say anything. 

“Are you staying to watch the practice?” Allison asked, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. You nodded with a sort of grimace on your face. She laughed and exchanged a look with Lydia. 

“What’s that face for?” Allison exclaimed. 

“I left my car at my friend's house and after practice we’re going to go get it. I love my friends, but watching practice is so boring.” You rambled. Allison nodded and Lydia narrowed her eyes slightly. 

“You’re Stiles Stilinski’s girlfriend.” Lydia stated with a blank look. 

You tripped over your shoe and almost face planted if it weren’t for Allison grabbing you with fast reflexives. You blinked in shock and stared at Lydia. 

“You know his name?!” You sputtered before realizing what she just said and shaking your head quickly. “Never mind. No, we're not dating. Ew!” You exclaimed. You weren’t usually this caught off guard. Out of the three of you, you were always the levelheaded calm one. 

Lydia pursed her lips and looked ahead at the field. Allison looked between you both with furrowed eyebrows. 

You always had people thinking you were dating either Scott or Stiles. It was something you were accustomed to denying. But to hear it out of Lydia Martins mouth threw you through a loop. You spotted Scott and Stiles walking from the locker rooms. 

“I’m going to sit over here. Was nice talking to you Allison.” You said wanting to get the actual fuck away from Lydia. You didn’t think she knew anyone outside of her circle of popular hot people. Allison nodded with a smile and Lydia just crossed her arms, looking bored. 

She was a lot more perceptive than you gave her credit for. Not only did she know Stiles’ name, but she knew you were close friends. That was very interesting. 

You peeled away from the other girls and walked towards the right side of the bleachers. You dropped your bag onto the bottom row. It was placed directly behind the bench, and you usually spent practices talking with Stiles and Scott. It wasn’t often that you went to the lacrosse practices though. They were, like you said, boring and it just felt awkward. Like you were expected to be a cheerleader and not just throw pebbles and watch them tink off your boy’s safety pads. 

You sighed and settled onto the metal bench, waiting for your friends to catch up to you. You had a lot to say to Stiles. 

You heard the metal thunk of footsteps on the small bleachers behind you. No doubt Lydia and Allison moving to the top row. That’s where Lydia usually sat whenever you had the displeasure of sitting at practices. 

“-My whole life is sitting on the sidelines. This season, I make first line.” You heard the tail end of Scott and Stiles conversation, and Scott dropped his bag next to the bench. Stiles sat down on the bench with a huff. Scott didn’t sit down though. You looked up to see him staring at someone, almost frozen. 

You looked over your shoulder and nearly rolled your eyes. 

Of course. You forgot he was smitten with Allison. 

“McCall!” Coach Finstock yelled, breaking your friend's trance. Scott spun around to look at him. 

You leaned forward and rested your chin on Stiles’ shoulder. He glanced back at you and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair. 

You were about to bring up the fact that Stiles’ crush since childhood thought you and him were dating when a loud whistle blew across the field. You glanced up to see who Coach Finstock was whistling at and furrowed your eyebrows when you saw he was glaring at you. 

“Y/L/N! What have I told you about distracting my players? Move up the bleachers!” He yelled pointing to the top row. You jerked away from Stiles quickly. 

Way to embarrass you in front of the team like that Coach. You gave him a half ass wave and he turned back to yelling at Scott. Scott looked over and gave you a shrug. 

You sat awkwardly near Lydia and refused to look at her. You looked down at the field and raised your eyebrows when Coach lightly hit Scott in the face. 

Fuckin Coach. 

Coach Bobby Finstock was kind of a menace. But he also reminded you of Stiles. 

You shifted in your seat as Scott stood at goal. 

“Who is that?” Allison asked and you glanced over and followed her eyeline. She was looking at Scott. You tried not to snort as you rested your chin in your palm, elbow propped on your knee. This was new. Someone was trying to get with Scott. You casually leaned closer to the girls to hear their conversation better. 

“Him?” Lydia asked. “I'm not sure who he is. Why?”

Now that was even more interesting. She knew Stiles and you but didn’t know Scott. That or she was lying. Or even more fun she didn’t want her new best friend getting involved with a “lesser then” like Scott. Not that he was anything less than a babe, but he was no Jackson Whittemore. 

“He's in my English class.” Allison said with a shake of her head. 

A whistle blew signaling to the team to start making attempts at the goal. You looked down at the field and almost shot up in your seat. Scott was grabbing his head like he was in pain. You looked down at Stiles, but he wasn’t turned to you. Coach didn’t look concerned. You glanced around. No one did. 

It was times like this that your friends tested your coddling skills. You never said it out loud, but every time Scott played, whether it be in practice or at games, you were extremely worried for him. 

You had taken to bringing extra water whenever he was playing. Having water to drink made him breathe a little easier and you were worried for him. You knew he loved lacrosse, but if it were up to you, he wouldn’t be playing at all. You were as reckless as both he and Stiles, but you had no problems going all mother hen whenever they did something to endanger themselves. 

Someone in the line took this moment to launch a ball at Scott. He was still clutching his head in pain, and it hit him square in the face. His helmet kept his nose from being broken, but the force of the impact made him fall backwards in goal. 

The team along with Coach started laughing and you glared harshly down at them. 

You hated almost everyone on the lacrosse team. 

Scott got back up and you cocked your head to the side. He looked focused, calm, ready. 

Another player made an attempt at goal, but Scott caught it easily. You grinned and clapped a few times. You heard Stiles yelling encouragement. 

Another player threw their ball and Scott caught it with a slight shift in his stance. 

Goal after goal he caught them all. 

“He seems like he's pretty good.” You heard Allison say. You grinned over at her. You didn’t know how this was happening, but he was on fire. 

“Oh, very good.” Lydia mused and you didn’t like that tone at all. You glanced over at her. She better not get any ideas. 

On the field, Jackson Whittemore cut to the front of the line and in a series of runs and jumps, he made the most extra shot on goal. You raised your eyebrows and watched with increasing nerves as Scott braced to catch it. 

He lunged to the side and caught it easily. 

You whooped, getting to your feet and start clapping loudly. On the bench Stiles bursts up with a happy yell. Lydia Martin also gets to her feet while clapping. You didn’t know if you should bring that up to Scott and Stiles later. 

“That is my friend!” Stiles yells and you laugh along with his joy. 

You notice Lydia looking down at Jackson with a look that says, ‘display of power makes me go brrrr’. You were probably exaggerating, but still. Lydia wasn’t cheering for her boyfriend; she was cheering for his embarrassment. You shook off your thoughts of Lydia and her further confusing mannerisms and cheered for your friend. 

Scott threw the ball at the assistant coach, and you laugh happily. He was getting cocky. That was fun. 

The rest of practice was a blur as Coach yanked Scott out of goal and made him run drills against Jackson. Stiles even left the bench a few times to participate. Jackson and Scott succeeded every single time. Stiles, not so much. 

It was close to 5 PM when Coach called the practice to a close. 

You stood up, stretching the uncomfortable metal bleachers off your bones. You made eye contact with Scott as he jogged to the locker room, and you smiled at him coyly. He rolled his eyes at you with a smile. 

Lydia stood up along with Alison and you couldn’t help but notice both of them were also watching Scott make his exit. 

Part of you wanted to be annoyed. Not at Allison, but at Lydia and even Stiles. Lydia only cared about Scott once she saw his ‘worth’ as a player. You thought that you understood parts of her, but this behavior made her seem even more shallow. Then there is the matter of Stiles liking her for no reason other than her looks. He’s just as shallow. You couldn’t be upset at her and then turn around and be okay with him. 

Why the hell were you thinking so hard over Lydia Martin? You usually barely even considered her, and this is three times today when you dedicated time to try and understand her. 

You shook your head to try and force your brain to stop being weird and you trotted down the metal bleachers. Enjoying how fast you could go down them if you stepped on the seats instead of the stairs. 

“See you later!” Allison called as she followed Lydia to the parking lot. Lydia gave you a glance and nodded slightly. 

What the fuck is with today and Lydia?

You sunk down on the grass and waited for Scott and Stiles to appear from the locker room. 

You ripped up grass as you waited and soon enough a shadow was standing over you. You glanced up and Scott was standing there with the biggest grin on his face. 

“What the fuck McCall!?” You shouted, standing then jumping at him. He grinned sheepishly and caught you to both of your surprise. Stiles jogged up and wasted no time getting in on the celebration. 

Scott released you and you grabbed his shoulders to shake them.  

“My best friend is a fucking legend!” You yelled laughing. Stiles ruffled Scott’s hair and brought both of you into a group hug, whooping as he did so. 

The adrenaline of watching Scott came flooding back to you as you jumped around with your best friends in the whole world. This school year was your year. Your time. Finally, something was going right.

So I was watching the first episode of Teen Wolf and I thought you know what would be fun? A rewrite. I know I’m not the first person to do this, @bilesbilinskix and @24stiles920 are the two that I’ve seen on tumblr. I looked for other rewrites after I had the idea and it would feel weird to not acknowledge the years of work they’ve done for this. So if you’re interested in reading a completed/farther along version of a rewrite go check both of them out.

This rewrite is going to be Stiles Stilinski x reader. I’m toying with the idea of making it Stiles x reader x Derek, but I haven’t decided yet. So for now it’s a slow burn that ends with just Stiles.

This fic is going to be very long. This first chapter is 8.7k words which is astonishing because compared to other episodes nothing much happens this episode and its only half. I’d also like to preface that the reader is the main character. So there are going to be many, many scenes that aren’t included in the show. It’s a rewrite with a new main character so if you’re wondering why it matters about readers' history essay that’s why. They’re the main character.

Also this rewrite is going to be rated mature and might teeter towards explicit. The show is rated PG-13, but I’m going to say teenagers aren’t usually suitable for a 13 year old audience.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this series and come to love it as much as I do. This is going to have the worlds slowest updates so like if you wanna check back in a year that is honestly for the best. I wrote this two years ago and I'm tired of waiting I'm just going to post it. :)

[httpsdana]

HI BABS ITS ME AGAIN (OFC)

Can I have 33,39,44 for my man Ofc bcs you know I’m obsessed with ow you write him for me

He’s just WOW

I LOVE YOU THE MOST

- your lil 💖💖💖

Cleaning Time~Eric Garcia

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

When my Lil asks you know I have to write it immediately. enjoy babes <33

YALL MY BOYS WON THE LEAGUE IM SO PROUD OF THEM

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

33-"I hate you" "love you too sweetheart"

39-"Shut up you're not my mum/dad"

44-"I'm tired" "come here"

It was one of those days were y/n just felt like cleaning the whole house. Hers and Eric's apartment was huge, but she knew she'll do it anyways, its just who she is.

Waking up at 6am, y/n got out of her bed and opened the curtains of her bedroom. Eric, who had no training that day and was in deep sleep, groaned when the light from outside entered the room. The sun still hasn't rose up completely, but there was definitely some light.

"y/n...what are you doing?" he said in his deep morning voice, covering his face with her pillow.

"up up Eric. Its cleaning day" she clapped her hands before walking to the bathroom

After doing her business and brushing her teeth, she went back to the bedroom, to see Eric asleep again

"Eric!" she yelled, making him jump up with his eyes widening

"I'm up. I'm up" he raised his hands in defeat, letting out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes still adjusting to the light

She smiled at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek before ushering him to the bathroom

y/n had a plan, for her and Eric. She knew if they were cleaning in the same room, they wouldn't get anything done. So she distributed the chores on her and Eric.

"okay so first I'm gonna be cleaning the kitchen cupboards while you do the laundry okay?" she asked looking up from the paper she had her plan on

Eric looked at her with an amused look making her roll her eyes

"I'm serious Eric!" she whined at his lack of seriousness

"okay okay. just give me a kiss first" he pukered his lips, reaching out to pull her closer by her hips.

She rolled her eyes jokingly, standing on her tiptoes to reach his lips. She connected their lips into a small kiss, before she pulled away. Eric pecked her lips a few times making her giggle slightly before she pushed him away

"thats enough. the laundry is waiting" she reminded him

He rolled his eyes with a sigh before he walked out of the kitchen

If there was something y/n regreted, it was making that day their cleaning day. She already finished everything in the kitchen and had moved to their bedroom, while Eric decided to take a break and play some FIFA with the boys

y/n let out a sigh as she looked at the cloth mountains in front of her. She started arranging them, putting everything in its place, making sure to put her clothes on one side and Eric's on another, even when she knew she almost never wore hers.

"y/n? amor, are you still working here?" Eric asked, watching as she let out another sigh

"I am. I have to finish our closet, and then move to the living room and clean it too" she said, not giving him a single glance

"I think that's enough for today. you're tired" he pointed out, making her roll her eyes

"Shut up you're not my dad" she said, making Eric chuckle

"thats true I'm not. but I am your boyfriend and I think that you should stop for today" he walked closed to her, taking the hoodie she was holding in her hand away from her, making her groan.

"I hate you" she grumbled with a sigh of defeat

"love you too sweetheart" he blew her a kiss, before folding the hoodie and putting it in the closet

He got up and pulled y/n up with him.

"I'll be in the living room. take a shower and freshen up. you need it" he pressed a kiss on her forhead, making her smile

After taking a shower, y/n put on one of Eric's t-shirts with a pair of his shorts

She walked to living room, where Eric was still playing FIFA. He looked up when y/n came, giving her a smile as he paused his game

"I'm tired" she mumbled with a yawn

"come here" he patted his lap, spreading his legs a biy

She walked to him, sitting down on his lap, with her face in his neck, and legs around his hips, while he put his arms around her waist

"go to sleep my love. you need it" he whispered, pressing a kiss on the side of her head.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Run These Streets {7} || Street Racer!Bucky

Summary: It's time to finally see who is the better driver but things don’t quite go to plan. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, illegal racing, smut WC: 2.1k

Bucky's Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven

Hundreds of spectators filled the space around the starting line, screaming their excitement for the race that had become the most anticipated one of the night. 

They all pushed as close to the crudely spray painted lines that indicated where the track began and you looked across the passenger seat to see Bucky idling beside you. His grin was infectious as he revved his thunderous engine that drowned out all the other noise and you blew him a kiss that he caught and pretended to pocket it. 

“Alright, love birds listen up!” Steve shouted as he walked between the cars to take his place at the start line. “I know you two like to get down and dirty but none of that tonight, we are here to race. Buck, you ready?” Bucky answered with another rev that shook his entire car and Steve turned to you. “Ready?”

Adrenaline flooded your body faster than the fuel injectors in the engine that you revved, its response a higher pitched whine compared to the muscle car beside you. 

Time seemed to slow as Steve raised one hand, then the other. The noise of the crowd turned to silence as a calmness washed over you and his hands dropped. There was only you, the car and the asphalt that was eaten by the hungry tires that gripped the surface and threw you forward. 

All the extra power that the Mustang had lifted the front off the ground and stole precious seconds as the slicks burned rubber in your rearview mirror. The small headway wouldn’t help once Bucky’s front tires touched back down and all that horsepower came chasing after you so you had to make the most of the head start and get out onto the streets.

You burst from the underground ramp fast enough to have a second of airtime and it was only the harness that kept you seated before you hit the road and skidded left to head north along the track that had been marked out. Horns tooted and drivers shouted as other Miami racers blocked busy streets until you passed but you paid them no mind as the black beast in your side mirror inched closer.

“Come on, baby, don’t hold back,” you murmured to yourself as you chopped down a gear and pulled the e-brake to drift into the next turn when suddenly Bucky was on your inside. “Now we’re talking.”

You dared a glance across and saw Bucky’s lips moving like he was talking to himself too. It was a reflex, after years of being on the other side of his headset, you could hear his voice talking to you even now. He would definitely be flirting, telling you all the things he had planned for you after the race finished. 

“Concentrate Bucky,” you warned him as if he could hear you, “focus on the road. There’s a tight double turn coming up.”

The street lights blurred as you headed into the turn, braking enough to send Bucky further ahead but it gave you the space you needed to pull to the outside lane and swing in tight and close to the turn. A whoop of excitement tore from you as you undercut Bucky before powersliding straight out of the following turn but the shout was silenced as a deep pulsing sound grew above you. 

You shifted forward and peered up to see a helicopter hovering above the street before your phone rang with Bucky’s ringtone. “Is it police?” you asked after answering the call and putting it on speaker as he pulled up alongside you.

“Looks like it. We’re gonna have to lose it.”

“Fuck,” you growled, knowing that there was only one way to do that. “That means splitting up.”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do but you take the next alley up ahead and I’ll head to South Beach,” he stated calmly, going through the motions that were well versed after years of evading the police in car chases. But this wasn’t a car chase. “There’s a tunnel at the port that it won’t be able to follow in. I’ll ditch the car and take the emergency exit. The underground isn’t far from there and I’ll meet you at the Northside train station.”

Another wave of adrenaline washed through you and you committed his instructions to memory, remembering the layout of the streets you had studied since Bucky started racing on them. “Till the end of the line?”

“End of the line, doll,” Bucky promised. 

There was no goodbye, no I love you. You had your instructions and you would follow them trusting Bucky wholeheartedly as you slammed on the brakes and turned down a tight alleyway that the helicopter had no chance of following. The spotlight disappeared from you and you sent a prayer to anyone that would listen that Bucky stayed safe as you slowed down to the speed limit and merged with the traffic to avoid detection. 

Two cop cars passed by and you held your breath until they were gone but still your eyes were glued to your rearview mirror as you feared they would suddenly appear behind you. Whenever you heard sirens your heart threatened to stop entirely and you pulled into the first carpark you came across, locking the car and heading to the nearest train station on foot.

“Steve, have you heard from Bucky?” you asked as you sat at the Northside train station after trying Bucky’s phone for an hour.

“No, what the hell happened? The scanners picked up a citywide ABP on the cars.” 

You quickly recapped the story and explained Bucky’s plan before Sam took over the phone. “The trains won’t run through Northside until morning.”

Dread began to settle in your bones as you hung up the phone and saw it was a little past 1am and you chewed your bottom lip worrying about Bucky. You called Bucky’s phone again and clenched yours tightly as it rang and rang.  “Come on babe, answer your phone. I swear to god I will-” the words were lost as Bucky skidded through the entrance of the empty train station. 

His hair was a mess and his shirt was drenched in sweat like he had run all the way from South Beach but he was in one piece and even managed a charming smile as he bent over his knees to regain his breath. “Sorry…I kept…you waiting…doll.”

You jumped from the bench you had been sitting on when you weren’t pacing the platform and raced over to him, throwing your arms around him. “You fucking scared me! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Bucky grimaced as he pulled the device from his jeans and you saw the shattered screen. “Fell out of my damn pocket.”

You relaxed in his arms for a moment to reassure yourself he was fine before pulling away to call Steve and organise a ride back to the motel. It would a while before they got there so you sat beside Bucky on the bench and rested your heads against each other and laced your fingers together. 

“Guess we’ll never know who’s faster,” he murmured quietly with a chuckle.

“I think I am okay with that,” you replied honestly, “what I am not okay with is us splitting up again. Not knowing where you were nearly killed me.”

Bucky let go of your hand to wrap his arm around you and draw you closer so he could capture your lips in a searing kiss. “I’ll take this as a sign from the universe that we are meant to be on the same team.”

A horn tooted outside and Bucky rose with a groan before massaging his thighs that were cramping from the unplanned half-marathon. The moment you made it inside the motel room you went straight to the bathroom and started running a steaming hot bath for Bucky to soak in and the sound he made as he lowered himself into the water had you biting your lip. 

“There’s room for one more,” Bucky invited with a wink as he spread his legs for you to join him.

“Aren’t you sore?” you asked as his cocked stirred to attention and he laid back further.

“I’ll never be too sore for you.” His hands reached for you and tugged your shirt off when you came closer. Next your jeans disappeared and then your underwear before he pulled you across his lap. “I need to feel you, doll.”

You had the same urge, like how you hadn’t been able to let go of him in Steve’s car. There had to be some part of your touching at all times. Right now you needed more and so did he. Unable to wait any longer, Bucky shifted his hips beneath you and lined himself up with your entrance before pulling you down on him.

Your lips parted with a delighted gasp as he stretched your walls and filled you completely. Water sloshed over the lip of the bath in waves as he guided your hips up and down his length and he tipped his head back in ecstasy after watching the way your pussy took him perfectly.

“I was scared,” Bucky admitted as gently rode him. “I thought I was going to prison for good.”

Your throat constricted at the thought of being separated from him and he swallowed at the look on your face before he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer. His kiss was all consuming as his tongue danced with yours and his moans filled the air before he rested his forehead to yours.

“I can’t risk this, us,” he whispered as he teased a hand down your navel until he found your clit. “I won’t. I’m done. No more street races, doll, I’m going legit.”

“What do you mean?” you asked as you struggled to think clearly with what he was doing to your body.

“I mean proper, legal racing. No police.” He stopped touching you so you could clear your head. “We’re flush for cash after this week but it’s not worth a thing if we get caught. I could still race, with my best girl by my side where she’s meant to be.”

You smiled at the thought. It would still being doing what you both loved but safer in every way and you quickly nodded. “But Bucky is too well known as a street racer, you wouldn’t be able to go by it anymore.”

Bucky shrugged though there was a small frown above his brows. “I’ll have to get used to being called James again. It’ll be just like high school again.”

“Almost like high school.” You rolled your hips to remind him of what you were in the middle of doing. “There was none of this back then.”

Bucky grinned and pulled you down his shaft. “Trust me, we did all of this in my dreams. And more.”

You moaned at the depth he hit as he rutted up into you and your walls clenched around his cock. “More? Fuck, show me.”

Bucky growled at your neediness and flipped you over onto your knees. You braced your hands against the end of the bath as he towered behind you and thrust himself back between your folds.

“I fantasised taking you in every position imaginable, pictured it was you I was fucking when I was jerking off.” His words spread fire across your skin and the heat centred on your core that fluttered wildly with each thrust.

The throb of your clit had you reaching down your own body and you cried out at the added sensation while Bucky fucked you. “I thought about you too. Imagined it was your fingers inside me when I touched myself or your tongue. It was your name on my lips when I came.”

The purely masculine sound he made behind you sparked your orgasm and it ripped through you with wave after wave of release. Somewhere in the abyss Bucky had lost himself and when your mind came back to your body you felt the warmth of his cum filling you.

You both sank back into the tepid bath water breathless and trembling. You lay there in a peaceful silence while the room slowly lightened with the approaching daybreak until your legs felt coordinated enough to carry you to the bed where you collapsed in Bucky’s arms.

[i-mean-technically]

the truck pt. 1

warnings: none

word count: 675

summary: Miko Nakadai

Edit: forgot to give credit for some ideas in this! Thanks @justawannabearchaeologist for brainstorming ideas with me ❤️❤️

what's one more?

It was closer to three in the morning than Miko was comfortable with to be out in this part of town but she didn’t have the option to go anywhere else. She couldn’t go back to her parents in Tokyo, they had all but disowned her when she presented the signed forms of her international transfer. And her hosts had all but packed her bags for her.

She had nothing but her guitar, her duffel, and four hundred US dollars to her name.

It had taken her almost two hours to get to the edge of town on foot, nothing around her but rundown buildings and trash near the half destroyed bus stop. Tears burned her eyes as she dropped her duffel, sitting on it near the edge of the curb.

Her visa was up in less than a month and she has no one else to call to help her. No one that could help her. No friends, no family, the government worked too slowly to provide anything for her to use.

Miko shivered as the wind blew through the buildings around her, whispering in the cold dark. “It’s fine,” she mumbled to herself in an effort to stop the growing fear. “It’ll be fine, you’ve had worse.”

There was nothing but the silence beyond the wind and it ate at her. Silence gave her time to think.

“I want to go home,” she whispered as she curled her knees up to her chest. Miko buried her face in her arms as she lost the fight against the tears.

Time passed strangely to Miko for a while, until she felt like she could face the world again. After wiping her eyes and nose she looked up.

Then screamed profanity  and threw herself backwards, toppling off of her duffel and crashing onto the cracked concrete.

A massive semi was parked directly in front of her, so close she could see her warped reflection in the chrome around the edges. She lay sprawled out on her elbows, gaping, as her mind caught up with the sight in front of her.

“What-how-,” Miko scrambled upright, fear flashing through her about the horror stories her parents told her about what happens to little foreign girls in America before a different thought came through.

It was something she had heard from some of the kids at school, a little Hispanic boy with wild hair and thick-rimmed glasses and a teen with raven dark hair. They were the only ones to talk to her like she was a person and not gawk at her like she was a monkey at the zoo. They had told her about a local legend they called The Truck that only the kids knew about.

About how he protected the kids in Jasper.

About how kids with bad home lives suddenly disappear for a few days, then turning back up with smiles and new clothes and packed lunches and restraining orders against their former families that the kids themselves enforce with tasers.

Jasper, Nevada didn’t have a single homeless person under twenty-five.

Because The Truck took them home.

At least, that’s what the kids here believed. Miko always thought it was just something that they told themselves to keep this dead city interesting.

But with this huge long hauler semi truck sitting quietly in front of her Miko started to believe.

“What the fuck,” she breathed, feeling frozen to the spot.

“Are you in need of aid, youngling?” A deep voice asked. It came from the truck.

Miko blinked. “What?”

“Do you require assistance?”

He sounded like a walking dictionary, but…

It had been so long since someone had asked that genuinely. Miko had to blink a few times to keep herself from crying again, staring at the huge tires less than a foot from her. Once she had herself under control she glanced up to the driver to answer.

A gasp ripped from her throat and she took a step back, stumbling over her duffel and hitting the ground again.

There was no driver.

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Midnight In Paris

Don Steve Rogers x Reader

I WAS supposed to have this ready for New Years, but that didn’t work out. But here it is! 

Warnings: There is smut in her kids. 

11pm

You sat in the back of the Audi, just flying in from a 8 and half hour flight from DC. Jetlag, tired, and needing that comfortable bed. Food was on your mind as well. Just the thought of crusty buttery croissants, with some steamed mussels and fries. Thinking about it, just made your mouth water. You yawned, and gave a big stretch from the seat that you were in.

     You were about to head home, to your apartment, when this important call came in. You looked at the screen to see that your Mob boyfriend Steve was calling. He had told you to here in Paris. And to wait for further instructions. A car will be waiting at your apartment complex, to take you to the airport. You had asked, if you needed to pack a bag, but it was done for. 

And so, you waited, with a coat, your phone, and an empty stomach. If the car didn’t come soon, there would be hell.

**

The car pulled up to the Plaza Athenee. It's one of the most expensive hotels. Even with the job you have, there was never enough money, you can use to stay at this luxurious hotel. The car stopped and the driver got out of the car, and he opened the door for you.

"Thank you, Charles." You said, getting out of the vehicle. He smiled at you, and he held out his hand and a key appeared before you. You looked at Charles for a moment.

"I can't say but take the keys and head to the top floor penthouse." Charles said, giving you a smile. You looked at him once more, then taking the key, and headed towards the front lobby.

The lady at the front desk gave you a smile as you passed the lobby and towards the elevators. Once you got in, you swiped the key card, and it headed up. It didn't take long when the door opened, and the suite appeared in front of you.

As you walked in, rose petals were scattered on the floor. You slowly walked out of the elevator and followed the trail of rose petals. The trail ended at the double doors. Taking a deep breath, you opened the doors, to see the master bed with candles over the place. Your eyes landed on the bed, to see a box and with a note. You strolled over and picked up the little card. The moment you opened it, you smiled. 

Hello Doll,

Please change into this outfit, and the matching heels. I’ll be in soon. 

Steve

You placed the card down and opened the box. Your eyes widened as you saw the dress that you were eyeing back in New York. You wanted it but told yourself that it was too expensive. You picked up the dress and shoes and went to the bathroom. Of course, the moment you walked in, you were in awe. The bathroom was the size of your actual bedroom. 

After changing and refreshen up your make up, you headed out and towards the double doors of the penthouse. You opened it and leaned against the railing of the balcony. The warm summer air blew against you and a smile formed. Before you could turn around, you felt a large hand wrap around your waist. You bit the bottom of your lip, and he spun you around, facing him. 

His blue eyes roamed around you, and he let out a low hiss. 

“Such a beautiful woman.” He told you. You felt yourself blush and tried to hide your head. But he placed his finger underneath your chin and made your look towards him. 

“No hiding doll.” He said to you, as he bent down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You inhaled his delicious scent of Bergamot and Vanilla and melted into his arms.

**

Your dress that you barely had on was somewhere around the room, along with your shoes, panties and bra. You laid on the bed, with the cool satin sheets clinging onto your hot skin. Your arms above you, with his hands gripping on, tightly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, as he went slow and deep. You bit your lips, moaning his name.

“Such a tight pussy sweetheart. Taking me so good.” Steve moaned, as his cock scraped against your walls, stretching you good. His tip hitting your opening.

“Steve- “You barely said, as tears came down the sides of your eyes. Steve looked down at you and placed a kiss onto your lips. Then traveling down to the shell of your ears.

“Going to fill you up tonight sweetheart.”

And with that, he pulled away from you, his hands placed onto your hips and lifted you up. Your hands gripped the sheets and his sharp hips slammed into you. Echoes of your hot skin can be heard. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you screamed out in ultimate pleasure.

His length stretched you even more, as he went deeper into you. His tip making its way into your womb. Your body started to heat up and that familiar wave started to form. Your hands gripped harder as your back arched. Your pussy clenched on length, and you screamed.

Collapsing back down onto the bed you looked towards Steve, as he continued his assault on you. His hips, slamming into you and with each thrust he gave he went deeper into you. Steve pace slowed a moment later, and ribbons of hot seed spilled into you. Coating your walls, and into your womb. He then collapsed onto you and then got up.

He headed to the bathroom and got out with a warm towel. He cleaned you up, throwing the towel to the side and laid right next to you.

Before you can say anything, a large crowd outside, yelled Happy New Year!

A smile formed and you turned to Steve. He smiled at you, then picking up your hand and kissed your ring finger. Your ring glowed in the darkness, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“My soon to be wife, and soon to be father.”

@jtargaryen18 @patzammit​ @princessofdarkwinter​ @lovebittenbyevans​ @what-is-your-plan-today​ @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @katiew1973​ @kelbabyblue​ @starlightcevans​ @adulting-sucks​  @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​