#and blew the front driver's tire

[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.

[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.”

[thursdayinspace]

Since yesterday was the anniversary of the Sushi episode (Rm9sbG93ZXJz — yes, I just looked it up), here's a little ficlet, set after they came out of that warehouse. I was in need of some fluff, and also I love that episode. tagging @today-in-fic and @poangpals

Somehow, the night seems less quiet all of a sudden as they step back out into the street. It’s almost as if the world has been holding its breath, seeing how this was going to play out. Reality on hold. The nightly noises are back now, wind rustling the leaves, even their steps sounding less hollow. She feels almost dizzy, a little like waking up from a really strange dream. The world feels shaky, not quite solid under her feet.

Mulder sighs deeply next to her and stops walking. She stops too, turning sideways to face him.

“Was that all real?” he asks.

“I think so.”

“Of all the strange things we’ve seen…” He laughs softly.

“That was definitely among the strangest, yes.” She laughs with him, shaking her head. “Remember those times I used to call your theories science fiction?”

“The ones you didn’t call outright crazy.”

“Yeah.”

His smile is soft. “Yeah. I remember.” He pauses for a second before he continues. “So. What happens next?”

She has no idea. But there’s always the safe option. “I should probably go home. I’m pretty tired.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

He smiles at her and she feels her heart beating faster in her chest. The truth is, she wasn’t entirely sure at the beginning of this evening whose house she was going to end up in. Neither one of them had said the word, but that had been a date tonight. She’s sure of it. And if it hadn’t ended so abruptly, if one of them had said something… Her face falls as realization hits her. “Oh.”

“What?” he asks.

“I can’t go home. My house blew up.”

“You—Oh. Right.”

“I should…” She hesitates. “I should probably check on the state of it. To see if there’s anything there left to salvage.”

“Do yo want me to come with you?”

She doesn’t want to go at all. It seems oddly tempting to just forget about it, to pretend it didn’t happen. Honestly, if it burned down then it burned down. She didn’t really have anything of great value in there. Nothing she would really, truly miss, most of her personal items left behind in boxes at Mulder’s house because she didn’t want the reminder of their happier times. Truth be told, she never liked her new place. “You parked your car in front of my house.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you call us a cab? One with a real human driver.”

“Don’t you want to get your phone back first?”

She sighs. “You’re right.”

Everything is where they dumped it earlier and they gather their possessions—she leaves only the vibrator behind.

He calls them a cab. They’re quiet on the way to her house, both of them exhausted. When she gets out in front of what used to be her home, he follows her. There’s a last, lone fire truck there, and she chooses to stand and wait and process as Mulder goes to talk to whoever is in charge. She says nothing until he gets back to her.

“Well,” she says.

“Shit,” he says.

That describes it pretty well.

There isn’t a whole lot left.

She sighs and wraps her arms around herself. “I think I need a place to sleep.”

“You have a place to sleep,” he says simply.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She doesn’t have an answer to that question.

**

He drives them back to his house. She feels like she should say something, but even if she wasn’t very attached to her place, being pretty much homeless all of a sudden is not a great feeling.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” Mulder says quietly.

“It’s just… strange, not having a home.”

“You have a home.”

It seems he has made it his mission to state simple facts tonight. She has no idea what to say, but they’re pulling up in front of his house at that moment, and so she gets out of the car and waits for him at the foot of the porch steps. He takes his time joining her there. She knows he’s waiting for her reaction but she’s tired and none of her defenses are in place, and if she speaks now she’ll tell him how she feels, and then he’ll know.

So she watches as he locks the car and makes his slow way over to her. She follows him up the steps, into the house, stands and waits as he closes the door behind them. When he turns to look at her, she forgets to be exhausted, she forgets everything that happened.

His eyes on her are all that matters in the world. The softness in his gaze, the way he stands facing her, solid and unmoving, ready for her to step into his arms and be safe there.

She has never loved anyone this way. Nobody else has even come close.

And she’s done, she’s just done. The world is a mess. But she has something to hold onto. He’s here, he’s right here, and she can’t breathe for a second. She doesn’t believe in fate, but she’s so tired she’s just going to accept it as a sign from the universe that her house blew up after she failed to kiss him after their date. A huge fucking neon sign from the universe, an arrow pointing right at him, flashing letters saying “kiss him, you fucking coward.”

So she does.

She realizes she still hasn’t said anything to him. “You have a home,” he told her, and she’s been looking at him in silence ever since. She hopes he understands that this is her answer.

With a few steps she closes the distance between them and pulls him down into a kiss. He kisses her back immediately, wrapping his arms tightly around her, and yeah, he’s right, she has a home.

She has him.

“Stay,” he whispers against her lips.

She smiles into the next kiss. “I don’t think I have any other choice right now.”

“No.” He pulls back, his eyes amused and hopeful at the same time. “I meant for longer than just tonight.”

“Oh.” She waits for her mind to start screaming at her that this is a bad idea. For the panic to set in. It doesn’t happen. “Yeah.”

He carries her up to bed for no other reason than that he wants to, and she wants him to. She falls asleep in his arms and wakes up there as well.

It feels like being home. Maybe that’s okay.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Thomas survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Nine: Gators Game

Bruce fell asleep next to Harvey that night, his hand lay on his chest and one bent above his head. Harvey rolled over onto his stomach and draped a hand across Bruce’s stomach with his face pressed into Bruce’s side. Thomas knocked on the door with his cane before opening it. Neither boy stirred. “That’s cute,” Thomas smiled. 

“What’s cute? Are the boys up yet?” Martha asked before poking her head in the doorway. “Thomas, I wanted to talk to you and Alfred about—. Awww.” 

Bruce stirred at the sound of her voice. “Mom?” Bruce whispered. He dropped his left arm down and accidentally touched Harvey’s head. “Harv? Harv, wake up.” He tousled a hand through Harvey’s hair. 

Harvey patted Bruce’s bed and his stomach before rolling onto his back and covering his face. “Jeez, Bruce I—. Mr. and Mrs. W., I—.” 

“That’s alright, Harvey. I know you boys were up kinda late last night. If you can’t fall asleep like that around your best friend, are they really your best friend?” Martha interrupted. Thomas kissed Martha’s temple. 

“Do you boys wanna see the Gators play tonight? A friend gave me tickets, but I’m far too tired to go,” Thomas asked. Harvey and Bruce sat up straight. 

“By ourselves?” Bruce asked. 

“Well, sure. You’re good kids, and it’s the floor. If either of you are misbehaving, I’ll see you,” Thomas replied, “So, do you guys wanna go?”

Bruce looked at Harvey, and they playfully knocked into each other as they whispered something. “Yeah, we wanna go. Thanks, Dad! You’re the greatest!” Bruce grinned as he hopped out of bed and kissed Thomas on the cheek. Harvey climbed out of bed and shook Thomas’ hand. 

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne. You’re the coolest,” Harvey whispered. 

Thomas shrugged and smiled. “Thanks, kids. Oh, and I’ll call a driver for you boys today. Alfred’s taking us to brunch in a bit, so we might be out for a while. I trust that you’ll behave yourselves and treat whoever drives you with respect today,” Thomas stated. 

Martha squeezed Thomas’ free hand. “Hon, about what I was asking you,” Martha whispered. Thomas nodded and kissed her cheek. 

“Okay, well, we gotta go. See you fellas later,” Thomas replied. 

**

When Martha, Alfred, and Thomas returned from brunch, the boys were gone, and Martha dragged them to Thomas’ office. “Martha, what’s wrong?” Thomas asked. 

“I almost got us caught last night, and I lied to Bruce,” Martha confessed. Thomas sat at his desk, and Alfred sat on the couch while Martha paced. “I looked into his eyes and lied. I think we need to come clean.” 

Thomas’ forehead wrinkled as he bit the cap of his pen. Alfred blew out a breath. “You want to tell Bruce that we’re in love with Alfred? I don’t know, Martha—.”

“He’s going to find out, and I’m tired of hiding. I’m going crazy alone in our bedroom at night. Thomas, Alfred—.” Martha took a deep breath. “I don’t do well when I’m by myself. I feel like sometimes I’m losing my grip on reality when I’m alone, and it’s slipping into my everyday life. The other day Bruce was speaking to me, and I didn’t hear a thing. He looked so far away, but he was right in front of me… It hasn’t been this bad since the shooting.” 

Thomas’ expression softened, and he grabbed her hand as she passed his desk. “You’ve been feeling like this since the shooting… Have you talked to—?”

“I didn’t want either of you to worry, so I kept the diagnosis to myself. Post-traumatic stress is one thing, but the dissociation—. I didn’t want you two treating me like—.”

“Martha, that’s important. You should’ve told us. What if something happened to you after all this time?” Thomas asked. “And you stopped seeing Daniela—.”

“That’s my right,” Martha snapped at him. 

“Martha. Thomas… Please,” Alfred chastised them. “Last night… Is that what happened? You weren’t drunk… Were you, love?” 

Martha shook her head as she hugged herself. “I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile. I’m not fragile or broken… I just—. I’m still me. I still want the same things. I still—.”

“I’m afraid that’s not the issue here. What if you hadn’t come to your senses? What if I harmed you somehow, and you could not communicate that to me? It is not an issue of being fragile. We have to be careful with one another. That is a promise we made. A vow. The ties that bind us are rooted in honesty and honesty alone,” Alfred explained. He wasn’t harsh in tone, but Martha started to cry anyway. “If you believe it’ll help to come clean, we’ll talk to Bruce… Perhaps we’ve failed to recognize how open-minded and understanding Bruce could be.” 

Martha clutched her stomach as she tried to stop crying. “Come and sit,” Thomas pleaded as he guided her around the desk to his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her back. “When should we tell him?” 

“Two days from now... Harvey’s traveling with the debate team on Monday. He won’t be home until Wednesday night,” Martha whispered. Thomas nodded. 

“Monday night, then,” Alfred whispered. 

** 

That night, Harvey and Bruce went to the basketball game. By halftime, Bruce was on his fifth hot dog, and Harvey had eaten half a pizza. “Bruce, your dad was really nice to give us these tickets,” Harvey replied as he lay back in the seat. Bruce finished eating his hot dog and nudged Harvey with his elbow. 

“Look, the camera’s on us,” Bruce whispered as he wiped his hands. They waved and smiled politely. “Yeah, I’m surprised Dad let us go without an adult. He’s been so cool lately. Maybe it’s because he knows.” Bruce covered his mouth as he spoke, so no one could read his lips. 

“About you wanting to graduate early?” Harvey questioned as he covered his mouth, too. Bruce nodded. “He’s gonna find out you forged his signature for extra course load when he gets your report card.” 

“He’s gonna be pissed, Harv. I just know it. And Mom—. I don’t know. She’s been different lately. I think she’s not feeling well… I don’t want to hurt her right now by telling her I’m planning on finishing high school before the end of junior year,” Bruce whispered. 

“Well, I’d try to break it to them before progress reports… And listen, I’d love to do that with you, but I’ve got to do a lot of extracurriculars if I wanna get a scholarship. The road to becoming a DA isn’t cheap,” Harvey replied. Bruce brushed his knuckles against Harvey’s chin. 

“You’re gonna be a DA someday, no matter what. I know it. You’re the first freshman in twenty years to be first chair on the debate team. Did you see Paul? I swear he started crying when Mrs. Davis said your name. Good for him, too. Remember when he gave me a wedgie when we were in seventh grade?” Bruce asked. 

“I hate him. He’s spent the last three weeks sucking up to me before this next debate. Harvey, let me get those books. Harvey, do you need the history notes? Harvey, put in a good word with the captain. What a dweeb,” Harvey teased. Bruce laughed out loud. 

“Harvey, ooh ooh, I’ll kiss your ass, Harvey. Please pick me. Please, first position, future debate captain Harvey ‘Apollo’ Dent, right cheek or left?” Bruce whispered in Harvey’s ear. Harvey choked on his drink.

“Christ, Bruce,” Harvey laughed, “And that nickname is not gonna catch on. Trust me.” 

“I don’t know about that. I hear how the girls talk about you in gym class,” Bruce chuckled as he sipped Harvey’s soda. 

Harvey’s eyes went wide, and he turned to Bruce. “What’d the girls say?” Harvey asked. Bruce zipped his lips. “No, come on. Seriously, Bruce. What’d they say, Bruce?” Harvey tugged his arm, and Bruce shook his head while smiling straight ahead.

[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.”

[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

[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.

[thehomophobe]

The Floridian Couple: POLICE BRUTALITY Part 1

Ok, the scene of the crime---crimes---is just down the block from the police department. I have to keep a lower profile; the downtown community is known to beat our police squadrons to a pulp. The moment they see a cop car at the entrance, they shoot it down and steal their tires. And we're running out of tire money. The scooter would do for now. 

*Claire jingled the keys as she gazed at the scooter before her. (Mind you it's a scooter not a segway. Although it would be funny if it was.).*

I'm gonna have to arm myself, those streets are more dangerous than any other one in the entire city. A gun should do...maybe two...and a baton...

*Claire equipped herself with any weapon she could find: pistols, batons, tasers, pepper spray. Just means for self-defense; especially in a big city like this where crime is high. She hopped onto the scooter as the garage doors open, lighting the way for her.* 

Maybe I could find some suspicious activity while I'm driving around. That could help with the case.

 *The scooter drives down the block while the driver looks around her. The streets were filled with citizens, human and occultist, suspicious and innocent. The night was young. The city lights lit up the sky. If this place wasn't so dangerous it would have been a beautiful place to live.*

*SCRRREEEEH*

*The scooter halts to ab abrupt stop. Claire was so busy (enjoying the sights) sleuthing around that she almost hit a civilian.*

"Sorry!"

*The cop apologized. The civilian only look at her. In their left arm were some groceries while the right hand held a long katana. Darken eyes pierced her brown eyes. The cop knew exactly who this was.*

(Y/N) (L/N). The Floridian Woman. I've known her for a long time...

*Flashback*

*Sirens wail. Red and blue lights flash. A giant squid lies dead and tied up as its blood leak onto the wood. Two people, a tall man and a short woman put their hands in the air as the cops surround them. Claire appears in front of the army, gun in hand and glasses gleaming with harden seriousness.*

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

*Claire had memorized the Miranda Rights like the back of her hand. For everyone she arrested a criminal, it plays in her head like a prayer. The handcuffs lock on the two occultists, who were charged for robbery, assault and trespassing as well as vandalism and disorderly conduct.*

*End of Flashback*

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

They broke into a fishing port to stop a giant squid from destroying the city, but they stole dozens of fishing supplies and hunting gear as well as a boat only to crash it into the boardwalk. They managed to kill the giant squid but the boardwalk was destroyed.

And this wasn't the only time.

They broke into a prison, they destroyed a restaurant, they blew up a section of a hospital, they almost started a school shooting. And most of the time, it's (Y/N) behind all of it. Her colleague though is prone to steal people's cars, but it doesn't outshine what that terrorist does.

(Y/N) (L/N) is a sociopath. A menace to society. I'm surprised she's not in prison. I'm even more surprised that she's not doing anything stupid. Those groceries were just regular groceries and her weapon wasn't in use. 

Don't let her fool you. She'll cause more property damage than 9/11.

*(Y/N) continued crossing the street. Claire scoots off to her destination.*

Not all occultists are bad, but there are some who are willing harm others.

What sucks is that not everyone agrees with that.

I remember having to stop a protest uptown because they were blocking the road to the suburbs. They were humans. They wanted the occultists to leave their city. They wanted them to leave their home. They wanted them to leave their planet. To go back to hell or their home planet; where they rightfully belong. 

They had guns.

They shot their homes. 

They started burning their houses.

They started kidnapping children.

They started beating them.It was horrible.

A horrible memory. 

And what sucks is that it might happen again.

*Claire shakes off the thought and turning into an alley way; a crack between the walls just big enough for the scooter to park in.*

[daisymintt]

Reunion (WIP) Steven Universe Fanfic

The rain was coming down in heavy sheets making it near impossible to see the water slick road ahead of Steven, the steady thrumming of the rain drowning out the music he had blasting from his speakers. With every passing minute the rumble of thunder became louder followed by a bright flash of lightning slashing through the dark clouds and briefly illuminating the landscape around him. If the weather didn’t lighten up soon he’d have to find a place to bunker down until the storm blew over, Pearl would not be happy if she heard he had been driving in such treacherous weather. “What the-?” Steven muttered to himself and squinted out his windshield, his wipers hypnotically swiping back and forth, at a dark spot on the road up ahead. A moment later he heard a loud pop and his car started hydroplaning.

He tightened his grip on the wheel and over corrected careening off the road with a squeal of tires and crashed into a ditch with an unpleasant crunch, the impact whipping his head back against the headrest. Steven groaned and rubbed the back of his aching neck as he pushed the door of his car open and stepped out into the rain which soaked him in minutes as he took stock of the damage to his car. He slowly walked a circle around it, noting any damage, and was relieved to find besides a dent in the front bumper the only major damage was a blown out tire which could easily be replaced. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed encouraging him to move faster as he rummaged through the trunk of his car for the spare. After looking everywhere he could think he realized that that blow out tire was the spare.

He groaned, annoyed with himself for forgetting to buy a new spare when he had a chance. He ran a hand down his face and took a deep breath. Alright, Steven, think. What do you need to do first? He needed to call a tow truck. He got back into his car and closed the door behind him then pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched up the nearest tow truck company, Showne Towing. He called the number and after a few rings a lady answered, “Showne Towing, what can we do for you?”

“Oh, um, my tire blew out and I crashed into a ditch.”

“Alright, sir, can you tell me where you are?”

“I think I’m just north of the off ramp from Delmarva. I can’t tell where precisely it’s hard to see with all this rain.”

“I can send someone out to your location in about 20 minutes.”

“Sounds great, thanks!” Steven sighed and set his phone in the center console, turned his hazards on, and started blasting the heater before letting his eyes drift close. Even with the heater at full blast a biting cold was settling into him from his wet clothes causing him to shiver and his teeth to chatter. He was sure he was going to catch a cold from this. The steady thrumming of the rain mixed with the scent of petrichor soon soothed him into a half conscious state.

Just when Steven was beginning to accept the fact that he’d never know what it’d feel like to be warm again headlights slashed through the darkness pulling him from his thoughts. He turned in his seat to look out the back window and saw a tow truck pulling up to the side of the road. A burly man wearing brown coveralls and a baseball cap stepped out of the truck and approached the drivers side window. The man knocked on the window and Steven rolled it down. “You the one that called?” The man asked.

“Yeah, my tire blewout and I got stuck in this ditch. Can you help?”

The man nodded, “Shouldn’t be a problem. Mighty bad weather to be caught in, son. You can wait in my car while I get this all hitched up.”

Steven smiled, grateful for the man’s kindness. “Thank you, sir. My names Steven, what’s yours?”

“Beauford but you can call me Ford.”

Steven grabbed his phone and got out of his car. Ford helped him through the sucking mud, the howling wind whipping the rain against him so hard each raindrop felt like a needle against his skin, to the passenger seat of his tow truck.

Steven sat in the truck, shivering, drenched, and muddy, while Ford hooked up Steven’s car. Steven glanced at the trucks clock, 11:00 pm. He hadn’t realized how late it was, the storm having blocked out any chance of sunshine for most of the day.

By the time Ford had Steven’s car all hitched up he could hardly feel his fingers. Ford opened the drivers side door, the wind catching it and nearly tearing it off its hinges with the shear force of the gusts. Ford climbed in and with a grunt slammed the door closed behind him. Water dripped from the rim of his hat, his clothes just as soaked and muddy as Steven’s were. Ford cleared his throat and as the truck roared to life he asked, “Do you have a place I can drop you off at? We won’t be able to fix your car ‘til mornin’ and that’s if the weathers feeling generous.”

Steven frowned to himself and thought for a moment, there was someone he knew who lived nearby but they didn’t exactly know he existed. They might be his only option right now, though, every other business would be shut down for the night. He sighed to himself and nodded, “Yeah, I have a place. Could you drop me off at 7933 Chickadee Hill?”

[project-stormblessed]

I bought this car barely a month ago and already:

1. The battery came loose.

2. The driver side front tire blew out on the highway

3. Somebody tried—and failed—to steal it and now my steering console is fucked up beyond use.

Lmao what the fuck dude I can’t catch a break. This shit is dumb.

[colleenmurphy]

' i've been a fan of yours for a long time. in fact, i follow everything you do. ' ( Penny fangirling over Col and her music )

@vegalores <3 Love Penny and Col's beyond honored! <3

A blush crept up Colleen Wilbury's face as she smiled and tried very hard to hide her tears. It had been a very long since another person's, let alone a fan of her work words had touched her that deeply. This tiny doe eyed girl was sincere, Col knew that in her very gut. She'd always prided herself on being a very good judge of character and this sweet soul had it in spades. She surprised herself by opening her arms for a hug before stopping herself.

"You have made my entire decade for saying that! Would you mind if I gave you a hug? I didn't catch your name but you're an angel. Please come in."

The fact that she had been out in the garden amongst the plants and veggies and the chickens had caused her to leave the front and back doors open to catch the crisp breeze and let the dogs roam freely around the property. She'd give the place a stem to stern cleaning tomorrow morning when she was good and stoned on her own stash and it was supposed to rain. How this sweet girl had ended up on her front porch blew her mind as the place was hard to pinpoint, half of Col and Charlie's package deliveries couldn't get to them since the driver refused to try and navigate the long back stretches of country road.

"I've got a feeling you've come a very long way and you must be starving and tired."

[moonxbat98]

Before The Dawn

Gregory/OC

Three months before the Thompson family move to Scotland sixteen year old Alice Ellington is the new kid in town and no one has ever seen her out with her parents, or knows where she lives; except for Gregory. He knows her parents are dead and she’s a street kid, living like a squatter in an old house on a hill. What he doesn’t know is that she isn’t as fragile as she looks, or that she’s not human. But that’s a secret Alice intends on keeping for as long as she can.

A/N: Will contain graphic depictions of blood, gore, violence, and death. Will notify readers of any changes within the ratings of nudity, sexual themes, and strong coarse language.

F Is For Friend or Foe

Song for the chapter: Never Know by Bad Omens

—

Alice’s POV

A sharp, brief gale of wind blew dark–colorful curls into her glowering face, followed by a spray of dirt kicked up by the tires of the Kawasaki motorcycle careening to a stop in front of her. The driver’s headlamp blinded her momentarily before the light and engine cut off completely.

It was the man who spoke first in a rough voice, a toothy smile stretching across his rugged shadowed–face, “Hello there darlin’. Haven’t seen you in so long and you gonna greet me like this? Holding that pathetic thing in my face?”

She held the sawed–off steady in one hand, it’s barrel aimed between the eyes of the haughty newcomer. A muscle in her jaw twitched. “The bullets may not be real asshole, but they’ll still hurt like a son of a bitch. How did you find me anyway?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk! You should know better by now, love. I can find you anywhere on this earth, remember? There’s nowhere in this realm or the next I won’t be able to track you down.”

He rose from his bike, towering over Alice by a foot and a half. His shaggy, shoulder–length wet hair fell over his face in clumps as he bent over to gleam at her – completely and utterly ignoring the shotgun barrel staring him down.

“You must be looking to get your ass whooped, huh Azriel? I told you last time before we went our separate ways that if you came after me I was going to find a way to end your sorry ass.”

“Aw, is that how you really feel? I’m hurt. Honestly. I helped create you and you don’t want anything to do with me?”

Alice snorted, “Hell no. Not behind the pearly gates of Heaven, even if you was allowed back in there, or the deepest depths of the underworld.” She shifted her stance, putting her feet shoulder–length apart, and Azriel laughed.

His eyebrows shot up, hopping quickly from the space he was standing in front of her to her left. “If you were going to shoot me, dear, you would’ve done so already.” A hop to her right, grinning like a mad hatter. “So why don’t you go ahead and get it out of your mouth? Ask me the question that’s on your mind right now.”

The barrel followed his movements with ease, her finger moving to lay over the trigger. “What question would that be? How much of a pain in my ass you’ve become? I ran from the States for a reason, you shithead. It’s been rather peaceful here without you and don’t you think for one second I’ve forgotten about what happened in California.”

Azriel scoffed and rolled his eyes, shoulders sagging as he retorted, “I didn’t think you would. But the question I was hoping for was ‘why have you been here in Scotland for two weeks and haven’t popped in to see me until now?’ You know, a guy just can’t catch a break with you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “You’ve been here for two weeks?”

“Uh, duh! You seem so surprised. Did you not sense I was around? You know, that’s very sloppy of you and I’m disappointed to say I did not expect you to be slipping up.”

Alice snarled in annoyance, flipping the shotgun around in her hand so that she was holding the barrel and wielding it as if it were a baseball bat. “I sensed something was wrong, but I was holding out on the hope I wouldn’t have to look at your stupid face again.”

The man chuckled, leaning in close and puckering his lips playfully, “You weren’t complaining about my stupid face when we were together so many years ago. In fact, I quite remember you used to enjoy my stupid face when it was between your legs.”

She released an enraged scream, swinging the sawed–off at Azriel, but missed as he blurred to his motorcycle. His movements were fast enough that human eyes would’ve only seen a quick glimpse of shiny leather and black. Azriel sat on the bike again, chortling with glee as she flipped forward into a roll to stop from making a complete fool of herself.

The shotgun was twice her size, just as heavy as it looked, and the awkwardness threatened to drag her to the ground as she missed her intended target. But she had caught herself and was left on her knees, clutching the sawed–off to her chest as she stared daggers up at Azriel.

“What the hell else do you want from me?”

“Oh, honey, I didn’t come to Scotland for you. I came to visit an old friend of mine, actually. You just happened to be in the neighborhood too and I finally decided to see what you was up to. Still playing human, I see.”

Alice huffed and rose to her feet just as languidly as she had been leaning against the store counter, with the elegance and grace of a queen. “I didn’t even know you had friends.”

“Says the woman who has no friends. But anyhoo, as much fun as this little reunion has been, I gotta run.”

She spun on her heel to stomp off, grunting. “As long as you don’t hang around me we’re cool.”

“Don’t walk away too fast, love, I got a great view from the back I don’t wanna miss.” Azriel waved after her as he turn the key in his motorcycle, smiling like the cat that got the canary. “I’ll be seeing you around!”

Alice burst through the door of the smoke shop and slammed it shut behind her with an irritated growl, leaning quickly against it’s cool glass as the sound of the bike engine sat there for a minute with a steady thrum.

She didn’t want to look back over her shoulder though she could see the angry glare of the motorcycle’s headlamp through the dimly lit store. Instead she focused on a nearby lava lamp, watching the purple ooze inside as it drifted up and down it’s glittery bottle.

Then, just as fast as he’d shown up, the Kawasaki sped off and took it’s looming beam of light with it.

Gregory’s POV

What.

Just.

Happened.

Gregory slunk low through the aisles in the oddly decorated shop, watching the youthful–looking woman as she raised her foot and slammed her boot against the glass door.

His floor–length trench coat grazed along the checkered tile as he crept closer, hidden behind statues of various deities and dream catchers. There were lava lamps of all colors spread throughout the little store, neon signs and posters colliding with each other on the walls.

Being in much closer proximity to her the girl appeared to be close to his age rather than the twenty–something he had assumed, although that man who was harassing her had acted as if she were much older than even that. The way he spoke to her was rather vulgar though, like they had once been something to each other.

It seemed as if they had years of history between them.

Gregory inhaled slowly as he came to a stop at the end of the shelves, crouching down to his knees. He smelled rosemary and peony.

“Hey! Who’s there?”

He startled, eyes widening as he jumped back a few feet. There was no way she heard him, as feather light as his footsteps had been and as careful as he was not to knock over anything.

And of course, his lack of heartbeat.

Then the young female appeared in front of him, brandishing the sawed–off in her hands aimed right for his face, and if looks could kill Gregory would’ve died on the spot. His hands automatically flew to protect his chest, shouting, “Put that thing down! Whatever it is I don’t want to be licking any wounds later.”

He doubted the weapon would kill him, it didn’t appear as if it held stakes, but Gregory didn’t want to find out.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

“The door was open, miss. This shop is open right?”

“Oh… right.” Alice lowered the weapon to her side slowly, while sizing him up, and offered her hand; raising a curious eyebrow. “Did you drop something on the floor or do you want some help up?”

He gaped at her for a moment, then collected himself and scoffed, “No I did not drop anything and I most certainly do not need your help.” With one swift, languid move Gregory was on his feet again standing over her by a good three feet.

She didn’t even flinch, her expression changing from curious to annoyed. “Look, dude, either pick something and pay for it or get the hell out.” Alice spun on her heel and began stomping towards the glass box, still talking as she walked away from him.

“At this particular moment I am not in a good mood, I’m wielding a shotgun, and I am seriously tired of dealing with male ego.”

Gregory sped past her, moving fast although not as fast as Azriel had been, and was blocking her path as her hand reached out for the knob of the door that lead into the protective room with the glass windows. He bared his fangs, snarling, “I’m not a customer. I have no money to give you nor would I want anything out of this business!”

She skid to a halt in her tracks before she could collide with the strange boy, but still was unfazed. Alice threw the shotgun aside as Gregory’s hands clamped onto her upper arms and with both hands she grabbed a hold on the edges of his trench coat, lifted him off the floor with ease and made to toss him aside.

He let out a startled gasp, but dug his fingernails into her skin and as she swung him he pulled him down with her. Both of them rolled across the floor until they hit a shelf, halfway across the room. Hookahs and bongs rattled, a few grinders hit the ground, but the shelf wobbled until it became still.

Alice on top, glaring daggers as her hair hung around her face. Her legs trapped his legs together and his face, he was sure, would be red had he fed earlier tonight. Gregory, on bottom, heaved an irritated breath and snarled again. His hands moved from her upper arms to wrap around her throat, “What are you woman?!”

She drew back one of her hands from his coat, fingers already curled into a fist, “None of your business!” Her knuckles made contact with his nose and in anger, he bucked his hips rolling the two of them around so he was on top.

He felt the bone in his nose had broken, but no blood poured out, and Alice gaped in surprise. Only a little drop of thick, blue–black liquid leaked from his nostrils. “I have not the energy to fight with you, lady, so can we please call a truce? We are obviously evenly matched..”

“Get your hands away from my throat and you got yourself a truce, bloodsucker.”

Gregory scowled down at Alice, reluctantly pulling away and getting back to his feet. “How do you know what I am?” His head tilted as she bent her knees, bucked her hips, and flipped onto her feet like a ninja. “You aren’t human.”

“What gave it away? The fact I picked your ass up like you weighed no more than a newborn baby? Or the fact I sensed you before you knew I was even aware of you lurking between the shelves?”

He grinned slowly, toothily, and let out a laugh. “And here I had thought my hunting skills were starting to get rusty. You felt I was here before I saw you?”

“Yeah. And I also smelled death.”

[pandora-dark-shorts]

Groton Horde: Part IV

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as I watched the chaos unfold through the dirty windshield. The yelling of the troops and screams of the undead reverberated in the air. The group turned and burst forward, their faces etched with fear as they sprinted towards the truck, pursued by the relentless horde. I slammed my foot on the accelerator, feeling the engine roar to life as the truck surged forward.

The soldiers, their fatigue laden faces coated in sweat, ran with desperate abandon. I could see the fear in their eyes as i slammed on the breaks, but also a bit of hope. I was just turning to face the side of the truck to the undead as they reached it. I flung open the door and got down. They piled up into the bed, panting and gasping for air. They slammed full mags into their rifles and started taking down undead with amazing precision.

The rattling of ammunition made me look over as 3 soldiers were loading mags. There were about 50 of them full already. I jumped up and grabbed some out of the box, and started loading more. A glimpse of the battlefield had me slamming clips into the mags even faster. I wasn't leaving right this second. It was way worse than we could have imagined. I was stuck here for at least a few more minutes.

I loaded 20 magazines and jumped down as the Navy soldier climbed into the piggyback lift to lower it to the ground. He expertly maneuvered each pallet onto a small 1-story building 20 feet behind the truck. When he had the last pallet, the 2 Marines loading mags went up with it. I had no idea I was in the presence of a certified forklift operator. As he laid on the horn to get the other soldiers' attention, an air horn blew off in the distance. Barreling across the base was a semi truck and trailer.

The Marines ran toward the operator and 4 hopped onto the forks to go up. The rest waited as the trucks' air breaks screeched. The driver turned wide and slammed into the undead closest to the wall, closing the gap with the trailer. She jumped out and started unrigging the wires.

The forklift operator drove over to the trailer with 2 men hanging off the back and lifted it just enough to get the truck out from under it, so they weren't raising the truck's jack. She climbed back in as undead reached up for her. Putting it in reverse, she slammed the trailer, and the jack broke, bringing the front end almost down to the ground. Several shots from the roof hit the tires on our side, and she leaned out the opposite to hit the others.

The soldiers climbed the trailer and started unloading on the undead, putting pressure on it, and the several left behind were ending the ones that got in and plugging the bottom with the ones crawling under. The situation was quickly coming under control, as good as it can get anyway. The truck driver slid her truck beside the trailer and got out, running toward us as fast as she could, shooting anything that was in her way.

"Nice timing," I said as she got to me.

She took a few deep breaths and replied, "I like to make an entrance. Mind if I catch a ride back with you".

"I was just leaving," I said. We climbed into the truck and drove back to the depot. My final 2 stops were uneventful, thankfully. I stayed there for the next 4 hours until the fighting died down. Driving Big Bastard back to my yatch, I started getting a headache. With the adrenaline wearing off. All I could think about was sleep. I walked in, trudged through the hallway, and fell onto my bed fully clothed.

#pandoradark

#pandoradarkseries

#day5

#connecticut #zombies #apocalypse #zombieapocalypse #infected #covid19 #rabies #writing #writinginspiration #writeig #shortstories #inspo #horror

[jonayariley]

I got my permit literally the day I turned 16 and my license the day I turned 16 and a half on my first try. My parents were excellent driving teachers and I've been driving now for 24 years - going on 25 years in a few months. I've driven thousands upon thousands of hours and literally hundreds of thousands of miles.

I've been in four notable accidents in that time (including one that sent me to the hospital about 9 years ago):

I got t-boned at an intersection when I was 16 by a van who wasn't looking. It dented the front hood and he drove off without stopping.

I got t-boned in my 20s by a cab that blew right through a red light on a blind intersection without slowing down, hit the front of my car, and caused major damage to the front end. He ended up not having valid insurance and giving me bogus contact info.

I hit a spare tire that was lying in the middle of the highway and fucked up my radiator. By the time I saw it, it was too late to avoid.

I got t-boned (seeing a theme yet?) in my 30s during a really bad winter while pulling around a pile of snow so tall I couldn't see around it. The car that hit me had no chance to stop because of the ice on the roads. (My visibility was also impaired by the fact that my abusive ex at the time had been hitting me on the face with a metal pole and caused severe bruising around my eyes, so... uh... yeah) - this one totaled my car and sent me to the hospital where I almost lost my spleen! Fun stuff!

Point being, accidents are going to happen as a simple matter of statistics if you drive enough, because there are other drivers and environmental factors outside of your control.

But like the previous post said, there's ways to mitigate the risk and make accidents the least serious they can be. My advice for drivers, as someone who has (statistically speaking) probably been driving for far longer and far more frequently than most people in my audience (these are aimed at drivers of cars, pickup trucks, etc. - I have no experience with driving large commercial vehicles nor motorcycles, sorry):

Wear your fucking seatbelt. Not just for accidents, but for sudden stops, jolts, etc. If you don't wear your seatbelt, you are a fucking idiot.

Do not drive while you are drunk, high, on medication, or excessively tired. I don't care how much you think you're "able to drive" while you're drunk or whatever - your brain and body are lying to you. Also, if you're doing a long trip and you're having trouble staying awake, pull over and sleep. Even if it's just in a rest stop - better to get some rest than die in an accident.

Avoid distractions while driving. Don't text, don't have arguments with your partner while driving, don't turn around to deal with the kids, etc. etc.

Don't drive more than you have to. If you live somewhere that you can avoid using your car (i.e. a large city with public transportation), then use alternatives. The more you drive, the more you open yourself to the random chance of getting in an accident.

Don't drive in bad weather if you can avoid it. Especially ice/snow. Your ability to turn, stop, accelerate, etc. all drop dramatically, and visibility becomes shit way faster than you'd think.

Watch your speed and don't recklessly - don't weave between cars, don't go super fast, be very mindful of your speed during wet/snowy conditions.

To the best of your ability, keep your car maintained. Tires especially can be a huge safety issue when they start to wear out, and a flat tire is never a fun experience.

Be vigilant, stay alert, and don't ever let yourself fall into the trap of thinking that you're some kind of magical exception. If you drive for a long time, you'll get into an accident eventually - it's just a matter of probability. The trick is to avoid them whenever possible and maximize your chances of walking away from one without anyone being seriously injured.

I am BEGGING younger drivers. drive carefully. give yourself room. for fuck's sake use your turn signals and don't fucking weave thru traffic. this is not a video game, this is real life and if you get into an accident, you could get killed or kill someone else VERY easily