#but i got this idea in my head before i finished chapter 4

[frootbyethefoot]

the scorpion lives

[ID: two digital drawings of gonta gokuhara, and kokichi oma from danganronpa v3: killing harmony. kokichi is on his tippy toes, covering his mouth with his hand and whispering to gonta. gonta is staring down at kokichi, shocked by what he's saying. the background is bright red. kokichi is bright purple, while gonta is bright pink.

the second drawing shows a bright purple scorpion, sitting on top of a bright pink frog. the background is pure black. END ID]

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 4)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: edited by the ever so lovely karmiccc on ao3! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28 @sadslasher13 @night-spectrum @eveieforeve02

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

On Your Left Babygirl

Wade watches from the corner of his eye as your feet drag behind you, the now limp Wolverine was pressing his full mass into the two of you, and you were clearly struggling with the newly added weight.

“One Anchor Being coming right up, on your left, baby girl!”

“This Logan has everything! He can do pretty much anything the old model could plus he even sings musicals! And he’s actually wearing a costume like he’s not embarrassed to be in a superhero movie for once!”

“I don’t understand.”

“You said my universe is dying, because this sad sack of nuts got himself killed. Well, problem solved!”

“Y-you actually think you can replace an Anchor Being with this?” Paradox says between laughs pointing at Wolverine still on the floor. “I wouldn’t have accepted any other Wolverine bee tee dubs, but you’ve brought me the absolute worst Wolverine there is!

“What do you mean the worst one?” Wade asked, walking closer to Paradox.

Just as Wade was less than an arm’s length away from Paradox, you saw the off brand Mr. Darcy reachout and grab something behind his back. You jump forward placing yourself in between the two men just as Paradox drew his weapon.

“Wade watch-!” You don’t get to finish your sentence as Wade watches in absolute horror as you disintegrate into nothing in front of him.

Wade falls to his knees as if trying to catch your particles that were still floating about in the air before disappearing entirely.

The distinct snikt of Wolverine unleashing his claws breaks Wade out of his trance as he watches the Wolverine, now back on his feet, lunge for Paradox with his claws in pure rage before disappearing too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan groans as he sits up, cracking his neck back into place. He raises a hand to shield his face from the harsh rays of the sun above him as he lets out a sharp hiss from the incoming headache he was starting to get from the combination of the fall and all the alcohol he drank earlier.

Barely starting to sober up, he looks around himself with a grunt as he stands, taking in the environment around himself.

If he had to guess he’d had no idea where the fuck he was. The scene around him was dry and arid like a desert, only this one didn’t seem familiar to him at all. There was all kinds of trash and debris around him like it had been dumped here and forgotten. Taking in a few greedy inhales, Logan scented the air, coming back with only faint traces of smoke, dirt and something else, something sweet and fresh and familiar but still different at the same time.

Turning his head to follow the source of the smell Logan spots you, laid out face first on the ground. He walks up to you apprehensively, not knowing if he could trust you or not but as he approaches he realizes you’re out cold.

Getting a closer look at you now he’s able to take in your features up close. If you were a shapeshifter of some kind like he previously thought, you were a hell of a good one. At first glance you looked just like her, the same hair and big doe eyes that used to look up at him. You were even dressed the same way.

Squatting down to your level Logan’s able to get a much better whiff of you from here. There’s no mistaking a scent, even when Morph and Mystique used to try and trick him back in the day but it never worked because they could never change their smell.

There was no doubt about it, the smell was definitely yours. Shamefully Logan found his eyes wandering down your frame slowly as he drank you in, eyes lingering on your ass for a few seconds before turning you over onto your back, and God, even your face was the same. The longer he looked at you the more he realized you really were her. Only, you had less pronounced smile lines, and were less muscular, having probably only known peace in your life, you had appeared more softer than she had been. Just as his gloved hand was a breath away from caressing your cheek, he’s ripped from his inspection by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground behind him.

Standing to his feet, he looks back at you one last time before looking at the disfigured body of the guy in red from before as his bones snap back into place. He sniffs the air again, realizing the man that had just fallen from the sky. He smelled absolutely rancid to him, stinking of blood, gunpowder and a distinct sickly cancerous smell.

Definitely a threat. Logan concludes as he starts to walk up to him.

Wade coughs as he rolls over onto his back, looking down between his legs as Wolverine walked up to him, stopping right as his feet, “Don’t just stand there, you big ape. Give me a hand!”

Wolverine stared down at him, his hazel eyes swirling with contempt and silent fury as he unsheathed his claws.

“No, I’m actually okay, thank you,” Wade barely finishes his sentence before he’s being stabbed through both his sides, letting out a sharp curse as Logan hoists him in the air like a kebab.

“Where the hell are we?!” He demands.

“I don’t know! It all looks kinda Mad Maxy but that would be copyright infringement, wouldn’t it?!” Wade cries out as Wolverine harshly drops him to the ground.

“Fucking jokes,” Logan scoffs before turning his back to him, walking towards your still unconscious form.

“Hey hey! You stay away from my pookie bear, you hear me?” Wade warns as he cocks his gun pointing it at the back of Wolverine’s head.

“Or what?” He dared the man to continue.

Wade lowers his gun as he realizes how fast the situation was starting to escalate, his eyes dart back and forth between you and the very ready to rip his guts out Wolverine before he curses to himself. After putting his gun away, Wade raises his hands up in the air as a way to appease Logan as he began to warily approach him.

“Look, we don't have time for this alright? If we don’t make it back to that Paradox asshole. Everyone I know is going to die,” Wade starts to explain the situation to him but Logan rolls his eyes as he turns back around, continuing to walk towards you.

“No, my fucking problem,” Logan replies coldly as he waves him off.

Wade felt his blood boil. He was never a patient man, nor a very nice one, but compared to this guy? He was a fucking saint. It was an insult to everyone that his Anchor being replacement had to be such a dick.

“Is that what you said when your world went to shit?” Wade shoots back to Wolverine, stopping him in his tracks again.

“Come again?” Logan growls, turning back to face him.

“Yeah, I heard all about you.” Wade began as he turned around, becoming increasingly exasperated by the situation at hand, ”You screwed up everything, but you really should be thanking me for pulling you out of that bed you shit-“

Wade let out a scream as searing pain shot through his body. Looking down he sees the infamous adamantium claws of Wolverine protruding through his chest.

“Oh, you backstabbing son of a bitch!” Wade grunts in agony as he’s hoisted in the air again, this time on his back.

Fighting back against the pain, Wade uses his own momentum to flip himself behind Wolverine, throwing them both onto their backs on the ground, the blades of the Wolverine’s claws tearing more of his flesh and bone on their way out as he did so. Without missing a beat Wade pressed his guns against Wolverine’s sides and shot out several rounds as the older man let out a guttural scream of pain.

“Are you ready to be calm now?” Wade asks almost mockingly, guns still pressed to Wolverine’s ribs.

He’s met immediately with a headbutt, no doubt breaking his nose underneath the mask.

“Fuck!” Wade swears in pain as Wolverine rolls off him.

Not giving Wade any time to gather his bearings, the older mutant grabs him by his ankles before throwing him into a wall. Wade heard the bones in his arm snap as he crashed through the cement wall, tumbling backwards against a sunken monument that seemed familiar to him. Wade groaned as he stumbled back up to his feet, his arm snapped back into place painfully as he reloaded his gun.

“I don’t want to fight you, Peanut! Doesn’t matter what you did. I just need your help.” Wade called over to Wolverine as he stood across from him in the wasteland.

“I don’t fucking care,” Logan snaps back as he spits out a smoking bullet, the rest falling from his torso, his healing factor working over time to push them out.

“Fuck, this is gonna hurt,” Wade says more so to himself than anyone else, “Alright! Fuck it! Let’s give the people what they came for!”

“Let’s fucking go,” Logan says as he crouches down to his knees, readying himself for whatever Wade was about to throw at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You take a sharp much needed inhale through your nose as the final bone in your spine snaps back into place. Sputtering out a cough you sat up bltrying to block out the blinding light of the sun with your hand as a headache pulsed through your skull. Looking around you slowly take in the dilapidated scenery around you.

Where the hell were you? You thought to yourself as you looked down at your watch to check the time.

The screen was broken, a crack having spiderwebbed across the screen. You weren’t exactly sure when it had broken but from what you could tell from when it had stopped working it was well beyond midnight.

“Oh I’m so fucking fired tomorrow,” You say with a groan as you rise to your feet dusting yourself off.

The sound of shouting and rapid gunfire drew your attention in the distance. Approaching the sound as cautiously as you could, you peek over a mound of rubble to find Wade being held down by an enraged Wolverine with Wade’s katanas and baby knife sticking out of him, reminding you of a human pin cushion.

“Let’s see you grow your fucking head back!” He shouts as he goes to sink his claws into Wade’s throat.

Picking up the first thing you see laying around you run up behind the Wolverine hitting him in the head as hard as you could, breaking the branch in your hands on impact. With a heavy grunt, he stumbles off of Wade onto the ground.The Wolverine clutches his ear as he snaps his head up to glare at his assailant. The rage in his eyes shifts to shock as you stand over wade protectively, glaring down at him with your broken branch raised high and at the ready for you to swing at him again if need be.

Snapping out of his daze, Wolverine gets to his feet and with his claws sheathed going to strike the red suited clown again, when hastily Wade rises to his feet, immediately moving you behind him with his hands raised up in surrender.

“Wait, wait, I can fix it! I know how to fix it!” Wade shouted at the Wolverine not willing to put you or himself in the Wolverine’s wraith.

“Fix what?” Wolverine asks has he slowly starts to lower his fist as he looks back and forth between you two.

“Whatever it is that you did that made you so bad! Those freaks in the TVA, they have the power to end our universe, but they can also change yours!” Wade says pushing you further behind him, not liking how the man was eyeing you.

Logan looks between the two of you incredulously as if trying to understand if what Wade just told him was true or not.

“Well?” He asks gruffly, eyes now completely focused on you.

Realizing he was talking to you and that your answer might be his deciding factor on whether or not to help you, you take a deep breath as you walk out from behind Wade who looks at you skeptically for a moment.

“We just traveled the multiverse trying to find you because of the TVA,” You began with a surprised chuckle still reeling in that fact that you actually did do that as you returned Logan's intense gaze,“Until today I didn’t think any of this kinda stuff was possible… But it is so I believe him,” You said exchanging a look with Wade as you finish, he nods his head to you almost in thanks.

Logan stares at you a bit longer before letting out a frustrated huff as he looks away, sheathing his claws. You nearly let out a beath of relief at the sight until the older man resumed his attention on you two again. The Wolverine looked back and forth between the two of you as he felt his nerves starting to grate again.

“How the fuck do you know this clown?” Logan asks annoyed, his fists were down at his sides but still balled up ready to fight again if he needed to.

Peeking over Wade’s shoulder, you part your lips about to answer him when suddenly you're cut off by a new voice.

“Hey! We fight each other, we lose,” Said a voice from above you all.

Puzzled, you all look up in the direction the voice came from.

“Who the hell is that?” You asked scrunching your face up in confusion as you use a hand to block out the harsh rays of the sun from your vision.

“Dear God its him…” Wade said, astonished.

“Who?” You asked as you and Wolverine share a confused glance.

Above you, on a worn down billboard, stood a man. He was covered in loose fitting dark clothes with a hood draped over him, blocking his face from view.

“That my little chocolate drop is the One. The superhero equivalent to comfort food or molly. White guys’ answer to all the disappointments in another A-lister,” Wade went on rambling as the cloaked man jumped down and landed before the three of you.

“Now that’s a superhero landing!” Wade clapped as the cloaked man turned to point out into the desert

“They're coming,” The man said.

Alarmed, you all look in the direction of his focus. On the horizon you all could see three cars speeding towards you, all three of the giving off serious Mad Max vibes.

“Well they’re definitely driving angry,” Wade joked, though you could tell by the drop in his voice that he was assessing the entire situation very much aware of the danger you two were about to be in.

“I got this,” The cloaked man said pulling down his hood to reveal a familiar face, “Stay close.”

“Aye aye, Cap,” Wade says walking up behind him to wrap his arms around the man before he pulls them off of him awkwardly.

As the cars neared they circled around the four of you a few times, some of the men blew out crude whistles making you cringe in disgust as you clutched your broken branch to your chest. Finally they stopped, their vehicles parked around you, caging you four in.

“Cassandra is going to be giddy when she sees what we caught!” A man with stringy greasy hair grins, showing off his filthy teeth to the group, “You know you can’t run.”

“You see anyone running, dick for brains? You’re not gonna love what happens next,” The cloaked man retorted.

“Oh my god, he’s going to say it!” Wade says smacking one of his katana’s that still protruded from the Wolverine’s chest.

Logan stumbled back a bit with a weak ‘ah fuck’ as you instinctively reached out to steady him. He turned his head to look at you as soon as he felt your hands on him. You held his eyes for less than a second before abruptly removing yourself from him, now focusing on looking at anything else but him.

“Avengers Assem-!” Wade begins to shout as if anticipating what the cloaked man was about to say, however that’s not what he said at all.

“Flame on!”

“Sorry, what now?”

The cloaked man shot out into the sky in a ball of fire. He hovered over everyone for a moment before blasting out a stream of fire directly at the greasy man that had spoken before. The greasy man grins as he holds his hand out, absorbing the flames before he twists his fingers cutting off the cloaked man’s power like a faucet. The man barely had a second to register what happened before he began his miserable descent from the sky. He hit the billboard he was standing on before twice before flopping on the ground, completely unconscious.

“We don’t know that guy,” the Wolverine was quick to say.

“We thought we did,” Wade agreed as he looked over the unconscious man before turning back to the group of thugs.

“Oh but I know you,” A beastly looking man with pitch black eyes said as he dropped down to their level from atop a car.

His dark orbs were fixated on Wolverine, who returned his glare with his own as he bared his teeth at him with a growl.

“Holy shit… Sabretooth… your brother,” Wade said, a hint of excitement in his voice as he looked between the two.

“Ready to die?” Sabertooth asked as he stalked towards them, eyes never leaving Wolverine.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Time!” Wade calls out as he begins to remove his weapons from Wolverine’s body giving him a long winded nonsensical pep talk in normal Wade fashion.

“Shut the fuck up!” Wolverine growls out, shoving him back into you.

What an asshole you thought to yourself with a scrunched up face.

The Wolverine lowered himself into a fighting stance before the two mutants lunged for each other. The two collided briefly in the middle as the familiar sound of metal tearing against bone and flesh rang through the air, before sliding past each other entirely. Both brothers stood on opposite sides of the dry field.

“What is it, girl? Is there trouble at the well?” Wade mocked with an innocent tilt of his head.

You might’ve laughed at the Lassie reference if it wasn’t for the fact that not a second later Sabretooth’s head rolled off his shoulders and right at your feet. You scrunched up your nose again, turning your head away in disgust as Wade picked it up.

“Behold! The head of your precious Queen, Furiosa! I have the Wolverine! I alone control her! You come for me! You come for her!” Wade declares as he raises the head in the air like a prize before he leans over into Logan’s ear, “I’m so sorry. I know it’s pronounced him. I’m gender blind. It’s my cross to bear.” Logan simply rolls his eyes at him.

“Who’s next?” He challenges looking around at the men who were left, waiting for someone to step up to him.

The greasy man let out an amused chuckle before calling out to one of his partners “Toad! You’re up!”

You look towards the other mutant and resist the urge to cringe again as he shoots out his slimy green tongue and pulls a lever. Instantly it activates a giant metal magnet that drags both Wade and Wolverine off their feet and into its pull.

“Wade!” you called out, unaware as a giant sentinel leg comes flying at you from behind, stunning you as it flies towards your companions, carrying you with it.

“Oh fu-“ Was all Wolverine had managed to get out before you and the sentinel leg crashed into him and Wade, knocking out the three of you on impact.

[ladykailitha]

Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate

Welcome to the little story I was working on during my move! Just a fun little thing to keep my writing streak going without have to dive into my heavy hitters.

The original idea is here.

I originally planned to go farther than the original idea like season 2-4 but as I was just needing something lighthearted it became a short little story three chapters long that might get turned into a series of What if's.

Summary: After the events surrounding Will Byers and his return to life, Steve has decided he can't control anything in his life but school, so he seeks to put a stop to the bullying. Cue Eddie getting heart-eyes over popular King Steve protecting his little sheepies. So he decides Steve needs a knew title. Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate will work just fine.

~

Steve was still reeling from actual fucking monsters and shit. And he actually had to go to school the following Monday like none of it had happened.

Fuck, they didn’t even offer therapy, just NDAs and money to keep their mouths shut. He had no doubt that the Byers family and Nancy had the worst of it, so he wasn’t even mad that she broke up with him.

He got it more than most people that she needed to time to grieve the lost of her best friend, be with family and hold them close for awhile.

It sucked.

Steve wasn’t going to pretend that it didn’t, because it absolutely did. But he understood. He told Nancy that if she ever needed a friend to give him a call.

His temper was short and his capacity for bullshit was low, that was the only reason he could come up with what happened that Monday morning.

He walked into the hall that held his locker to his books for the day when he saw Tommy H. having a go at some freshman. Like this kid still looked like he was in elementary, he looked that little.

“Knock it off, Hagan,” Steve huffed. “There is no reason to be harassing this kid.”

Tommy turned around and got in his face. “What’s it to you, Harrington? I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Dude,” Steve said, stepping forward instead of back like Tommy thought he would, “why are you so angry all the time? Chill out.”

Tommy’s head reared back as though he’d been struck in the face. He pushed Steve away. “Again, what’s it to you? You want to be friends again now that Miss Priss is finished with your scaly ass? Because where was my loyalty? We’ve been friends for years and you threw it all away for some piece of ass!”

Steve didn’t even stumble, he just crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what you did was over the line and you did it anyway. Because that’s the problem, Hagan, isn’t it? You don’t know where the fucking line is, do you?”

Tommy frowned and tried to push him again, but Steve just let his body slide with the motion and it didn’t even hurt. Tommy stared at him for a moment before stalking off down the hallway to his own locker. Steve just shook his head and went over to the kid who Tommy had been bullying.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked gently, helping him pick up his books. “If he does that again, you come running for me. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington, just ask around, someone will know how to find me, yeah?”

The kid nodded and took the books back from Steve before he took off in a tear. Steve sighed and he put his hands on his hips like a disappointed mom.

He looked around the hall to see everyone staring at him in shock. And that was when he realized what he had done.

Last week, he might have called Tommy off, but not really done anything about it. But he had not only called Tommy off, he put him in his place, and then helped the kid.

Yeah that was quite the turn around. So he just did like he would have done at basketball game.

He clapped his hands together once, nice and loud to make sure everyone was paying attention to him even more now.

“Right,” he said loudly. “Nothing more to see here. Move along now.”

They stared at him in even further shock now.

“Come on,” Steve said impatiently. “Move along. Shoo!” He waved his hands in front of him, trying to get them leave, but it was like herding cats.

Someone slammed their locker and that broke them out of their trance allowing them to move about their day like that didn’t just happen.

Steve looked around and saw Eddie Munson leaning against his locker, with his arms crossed. A locker, Steve was pretty sure was open when he walked in that morning.

Huh.

That was certainly interesting.

~

Eddie had been having a rough morning. He spilled milk on his only clean pair of jeans. He was going to do laundry after school. He was! He just didn’t do it over the weekend because he had gotten a new book. A book that was currently being painstakingly dried out by Uncle Wayne with an old hair dryer, because Eddie dropped it in the sink. Then he almost forgot his homework and had to run back for it. He had managed to get to school on time, but Tommy H. had decided to chose violence that morning against a nerdy little freshman literally next to his locker.

He promised Uncle Wayne that if Tommy started something that he wouldn’t fucking finish it. He needed to graduate from high school and as it much as it sucked ass, he had to look the other way.

So imagine his surprise when Steve got in Tommy’s face and almost threw hands with the guy, telling him to back off. What was even more surprising was how quickly Tommy stood down.

But that wasn’t the last of Steve Harrington’s surprises, oh no...

He helped the kid gather up his stuff and offered himself as a white knight if Tommy did it again. But by then Harrington had drawn quite the crowd, but instead of soaking the attention like the full tilt diva the asshole jock most certainly was, he had tried to disperse the crowd. Like the attention had made him uncomfortable.

So he thought he’d throw the king a bone and slammed his locker shut. The loud noise startled the populous out of their stupor and sent them packing. He was more than a little shocked to see that maybe Steve had figured out who had rescued him.

And wasn’t that a kick in the head.

By the time he got to lunch news had spread that that morning’s incident was only the start of the king’s campaign to clean up the hallowed halls of Hawkins High. According to ye ole rumor mill, Steve had broken up a fight, called out two accounts of bullying, and stopped a class from rioting when the teacher had a medical emergency.

What was even more surp– he needed to find another word. Shocking. Astounding. Astonishing. Mind-boggling.

Anyway Steve sat down next to Carol and Tommy. Like even the great ex Nancy Wheeler dropped her fork, flabbergasted.

Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Tommy growled. “Why don’t you sit next to your girlfriend? Oh that’s right she dumped your ass.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “You made a valid point, we have been friends for years and I’ve decided I’m tired of running away from my problems.”

“And what,” Carol sneered, “we’re one of your problems now? Fuck off, Steve.”

Steve threaded his fingers together and rested his chin on his knuckles. “You didn’t use to be this way, you know. You used to be the sweetest girl and I’m trying to figure out if it was Tommy that made you this way or if you turning into a bitch is what made Tommy become such an ass?”

Tommy and Carol’s heads rocked back in unison. Tommy moved to stand up to hit him, but Carol pulled him back down.

“If we bother you so much why don’t you leave and stay gone?” she asked, low and menacingly. “We don’t need you, you need us. We made you king.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “No, you really didn’t. You need someone to keep you from your worst selves. And that’s what I’m going to do. You could be good.” He slid a piece of paper over to Tommy. “This is Miss Chen, the school counselor’s office hours. You will make an appointment with her by the end of the day.”

Tommy threw it on the table. “Fuck off, Harrington. You can’t make me.”

Steve leaned forward on his elbows. “Actually you’ll find that I can. After all they’re still trying to find the culprit who put the smoke bomb in the garbage in the principal’s office last year.” He slapped the table for emphasis. “It would be a real shame if they learned it was you.”

Tommy blanched and gulped heavily. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Steve confirmed. “I know too much about you to have you go against me.”

Carol folded her arms and huffed. “Like we don’t have information on you, too.”

“Do you though?” he asked, sitting back in the chair and lazily stuff his hands in pockets. “I was never directly involved in any of it. Including the buying of weed for all those parties.”

This time Carol’s color drained. “Shit.”

“So this how it’s going to go,” Steve murmured. “You two have become my pet projects. I’m going to see if you can be reformed. Become better people. And to do that, we’re going to have to be friends again.”

Carol frowned as she twirled her hair around a finger. “Why are you doing this, Steve? I mean really. When you think people aren’t watching you, you get this haunted expression. It’s a little freaky, honestly.”

Steve sighed. “I have learned the hard way that running every time things get tough will only lead to worse consequences and I hate to see you come to harm because you realized the same thing too late.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I do care about you guys, of course I do. But this behavior is frightening. What if you hurt someone so bad that they took their life or they died because of your direct actions? Do you really think you could live with yourselves?”

“Tha–that can’t really happen, can it?” Carol asked, holding up her hand to stall Tommy from scoffing.

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. “That something you really want to test?” He leaned forward again on his elbows. “Having someone’s blood on your hands?”

They were both thinking it but Tommy beat Carol to it. “Is this what this about? Barb Holland? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

Steve turned his head away.

Carol slapped her hands on the table on either side of her tray. “If that’s what Miss Priss said, blackmail be damned, Steve, I’m going throw hands, do you understand me?”

Steve’s head snapped her direction. “What?”

“Look,” Tommy said, “what happened to her was a shame, but you did everything you could to make sure she was okay before we went in to dry off.”

“Like, she wasn’t even supposed to be there that night,” Carol said, nodding. “That’s all on Nancy. Don’t carry her shit too, just because you loved her. You tried to include Barb and she was rude.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and nodded, choking down tears. “Thanks, guys.”

“I suppose,” Tommy said with a put on sigh, “we could be nicer. I guess.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed as Carol shook her head. He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Tommy shook it first and then Carol.

“Friends,” they agreed.

~

Eddie wasn’t able to hear what Steve and Tommy and Carol were talking about, but whatever it was it had ripples that quivered through the halls of the school.

Word had it that Tommy was seeing the school counselor and Carol had stopped making snide comments in passing.

Like, you could tell Carol was fighting back every nasty word that came to her head, as Steve would nudge her side and she would whisper to him what she was thinking instead. You could tell she was still being nasty but at least it wasn’t aimed at the target anymore.

But there were starting to be other changes too.

The basketball team was the worst of the jocks when it came to harassing the masses, but when Steve caught one of the members bullying someone, the next day, the guy was too tired to start shit.

So Eddie decided it was time for a little research and that meant actually going to PE. Fuck, he hated high school.

He dragged his ass to PE and the coach merely raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing. He knew why Eddie was there. Same reason as all the other kids that never came started showing up.

Steve Harrington.

The coach blew his whistle to call a foul and the kid who had been fouled immediately got up and in the other guy’s face.

Faster than lightning, Steve was between before the coach could even take a step toward the mounting trouble.

“Come on, Kenny,” Steve was saying soothingly. “It was fair play, you were just in the right place at the wrong time. Walk it off, then take your shot. You’ve got this.”

Kenny glared at the other player, but did as Steve suggested. Steve turned to the other player and patted him on the chest, murmuring something Eddie couldn’t hear, but the other guy just nodded and took his place on the line.

Eddie laughed out loud when Kenny biffed both shots and the other team got the ball. He didn’t know enough about basketball, but he could still appreciate a good strategy when he saw it.

As the game wore on, Eddie was starting to see the pattern emerge. If it was malicious, Steve would be up in the guy’s face telling him to knock it off and to play clean. If it was a good play and the fouled player was pissed, Steve would calm him down and praise the other team.

It was almost freaky how well Steve seemed to know the difference. And Eddie loved freaky.

~

Part 2 Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: a one shot (18+)

a/n: this scene was mentioned in chapter 21 of the skz house, and i wanted to explore it. i put in some things that were mentioned in comments and asks that gave me a few ideas, but i couldn't make them happen for y/n, chan & hyunjin. anyways, i hope you enjoy this surprise one-shot. THIS HAS NOT BEEN EDITED. forgive any typos, i wrote this in less than 24hrs.

this one shot can be enjoyed even if you haven’t read anything else from skz house. also, i know this female character has a name in actual story, but it's nonexistent here for your pleasure. carry on.

word count: 3,020

content warnings: threesome, squirting, double penetration, anal sex, deep throating, tit fucking...dear lord, how can i feel shy typing this out after what i've written?

The SKZ House: One-Shot

“Why does it have to be my bed?” Seungmin complains.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed next to Changbin and you’ve just finished explaining why you gathered them here tonight. For a threesome. And that’s what he wants to know?

“Don’t be difficult—she might change her mind.” Changbin nudges Seungmin with his shoulder.

You have thought about changing your mind several times in the last few minutes. Not because you don’t want to do this with them, but how on earth can you get them to stop going at each other’s throats long enough to make it happen? You thought the suggestion of a threesome would be enough on its own. It’s not, clearly.

It has been less than a month since you moved into The SKZ House and you have a lot to learn about these two. What you have gathered, thus far, is that for all their differences they both seem to be similar at their core, which is probably why they argue so much. One thing they also have in common right now is you. They’re both fucking you and will continue to do so for the next eight months. The last thing you want is to endure their incessant bickering the entire time.

“We’re doing this,” you finally respond. “But I swear if you two can’t stop arguing, I’ll leave you in here to fuck each other.”

They both press their lips firmly together at that, causing a sliver of empowerment to course through your veins.

You walk to the bed and motion for them to separate so you can sit between them. You reach up with your arms, grab ahold of both of their chins, then turn to address Seungmin first.

“You only speak to me.” you turn to Changbin, “Got it?”

They both nod.

You pull Changbin to you and kiss him. You still get surprised each time your lips meet—by how soft his are and how delicate he is. You really can’t judge a book by its cover with him. For as bulky as his build is, he’s gentler than you expected. All around.

He parts his lips, and you slip your tongue into his mouth, your hand still holding his chin. He adjusts himself on the bed, angling himself toward you, but you break the kiss before he can get comfortable. You turn to Seungmin and kiss him, too. Seungmin’s kiss is needier. As soon as your lips touch his, his hand is on your thigh, squeezing while he slides it upwards.

You pull away from him and let go of their chins to catch Seungmin’s wrist. You move his hand away and scoot back. You lift your shirt up and over your head, dropping it beside you on the bed. You lean back and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Now your turn.”

Their jaws drop. You smirk.

“No way,” Seungmin shakes his head defiantly, flinging his bangs around.

“Okay. See you later, Changbin.” you say, reaching for your shirt.

“Dude,” Changbin slaps Seungmin on the shoulder before he turns to you. “No tongue?”

“I suppose it’ll be fine without it.”

Changbin turns back to Seungmin. Seungmin looks distraught at their current predicament. They take deep breaths and lean over your legs, ever so slowly, prolonging as much as they can.

“Hold it,” you say when their lips finally meet. “5, 4—shut your eyes.”

They both snap their eyes shut.

“And relax—3, 2…2 and a half…”

Seungmin’s jaw clenches. Changbin lets out a disapproving grunt.

“2 and a quarter…1.”

They break apart and wipe their mouths as you laugh. Changbin stands as Seungmin glares and advances towards you. You hold out your arm to keep him at bay, but he smacks it out of the way. You manage to bring your knee up and use more force to keep him back.  

“You better cool it, Kim Seungmin,” you warn. “Take your clothes off, both of you.”

Seungmin mumbles under his breath and reluctantly gets up from the bed. They both undress as you remove your shorts, unsnap your bra and get on your knees. Changbin discards his clothes wherever they fall on the floor. Seungmin, of course, folds his and places them neatly on his desk.

When they’re both standing in front of you, you reach out to grab their hands. You bring them to your tits and they both caress you.

Seeing them next to each other like this, completely naked, their different appearances stand out even more. To your left, Changbin is stocky and solid, fucking beefy, from head to toe. Whereas Seungmin is hardly muscular and much thinner, but still in shape from all those years of Baseball. Their upright cocks match their appearance too—one girthy, one slender.

Your eyes are on Seungmin as you take Changbin’s cock in your hand first and stroke him. Seungmin reaches for your other hand and places it on his cock too. You grip him but hold your hand still until he starts moving your wrist for you. You stroke them both as Seungmin leans forward to capture your lips.

Even though you haven’t been here long, you quickly learned how easy it is to get under Seungmin’s skin when sex is involved. In everyday life, it’s not an easy feat, he’s too unbothered but the boy loves to fuck. The second his mind is on fucking you, he has to have you. If you play coy or try to tease him, he gets even more riled up and needy.

Knowing this, you keep choosing to interact with Changbin first on purpose. Plus, Changbin has been the better behaved one throughout this. He deserves it—and he likes to be rewarded.

You lean back from Seungmin to break the kiss. He puts a knee on the bed, and tries to move closer to you. Once again, you put your hand out to stop him. The look in his dark brown eyes sends a shiver down your spine—he’s going to fuck the shit out of you when he gets the chance.

You release their cocks and lower yourself onto all fours, positioning yourself in front of Changbin.

“Grab my hair,” you instruct Seungmin.

He doesn’t hesitate to grab a handful and pull back on it, forcing you to look up. He leans down to kiss you briefly, then pushes your head forward to Changbin’s cock. You lick your lips and open wide to take him in.  

“Ohhh, fuck,” Changbin exhales.

Seungmin strokes himself with his other hand as he guides your head back and forth. You moan around Changbin’s cock, moving your hips to rub your thighs together. You can feel how wet your pussy is already.

“Is it my turn yet?” Seungmin goads, knowing what you’re doing to him. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he forces your head all the way down on Changbin, until your throat is full and your nose touches his pelvic bone. Your stomach clenches as you gag around his cock.

Seungmin pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at him again. He leans down and crashes his lips against yours, moaning as his tongue invades your mouth. Tasting you. Tasting Changbin. He doesn’t seem to mind this—but kissing was an issue?

Changbin grabs your tits with both hands, kneading them and teasing your nipples. When Seungmin breaks apart from you, he immediately shoves your mouth onto his own cock. His grip on your hair tightens as he thrusts his hips forward, fucking your face.

He’s relentless. You move back and forth on his cock, sliding your tongue along the bottom, keeping your throat relaxed and open for him to slide down. The saliva in your mouth is coating his cock and sliding down your chin, spurring him on.

You let him continue a little while longer before pulling back. He attempts to keep going, but you push his hand away from your head. You wipe your mouth with your hand and sit down on the bed, catching your breath.

“Come here, Seungmin. Get behind me,” you tell him.

He does as his told, placing his legs on either side of you, his hard cock pressed against your back. You lean into him and spread your legs apart as Changbin crawls between them, covering  your pussy with his mouth as soon as he’s within reach. Seungmin drapes one arm across the front of your shoulders, holding you against him and pinches your nipples with his other hand.

Your eyes flutter shut, allowing you to bask in the moment. Your head is relieved of all thoughts—anything outside of this room, outside of this bed doesn’t exist right now. Only the three of you.

A moan escapes your lips as Changbin slides his fingers inside your pussy and focuses his mouth on your clit.

“Make her do the thing, hyung,” Seungmin says. He hooks his feet around your legs at the knee, spreading them further apart.

“On your bed?” Changbin takes his mouth of your pussy to mock Seungmin’s earlier complaint.

“D-don’t,” you stumble for the word.

You mean to sound stern, to warn them against two things—attempting what they’ve both recently discovered you’re able to do—and arguing, but you fail. You’re too consumed with how they’re making you feel.

“Shhh,” Seungmin whispers in your ear before biting down on your neck. “We’re being good.”

You can just picture the devilish look on his face as he gently brings each of your arms back. He slips his forearm through them and pulls you back against him, forcing you to arch your back. He continues squeezing your tits and tugging on your nipples as Changbin sets to work.

Changbin alternates between licking and sucking on your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you, applying pressure with each movement. Seungmin’s mouth goes back to your neck, nipping and kissing until you’re absolutely beside yourself.

When did you lose the upper hand here?

“Oh, no, I’m gonna—no, Changbin—”

“Let it out,” Seungmin coaxes.

You pant and thrash your head from side to side, circling your hips around Changbin’s face and fingers while Seungmin smacks your tits and bites your neck. Your entire body shakes as you come. Changbin fucks you harder with his fingers, your hips buck against him and you let go of all self-control. Changbin withdraws his fingers and leans back as you cover him in your squirt. You open your mouth to scream, but Seungmin clamps his hand over your mouth, muffling the sound.

Changbin lays siege to your pussy again before you can fully come back to reality. You grunt and groan, squirming against him. Seungmin lets out a wicked chuckle from behind you and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth as Changbin makes you squirt again. This feeling of release is euphoric—a drug in its own right. And you want more of it.

“I need you to fuck me,” you plead to Seungmin when your body stops taking and he finally removes his hand from your mouth. “Let’s switch.”

Seungmin untangles his legs from yours and slides you around so you’re laying horizontal on the bed, with your head resting along the edge. Changbin stands and appears at your side, stroking himself while Seungmin situates himself between your legs, teasing your pussy with his cock. Your hips thrust upward towards him on their own accord.

“You look so good like this, y/n,” Changbin states.

He stands in front of your face, tapping your cheeks and lips with his cock as Seungmin thrusts into you. Your mouth falls open as you moan and Changbin seizes the opportunity to shove his cock inside.

They fuck you from both ends. When Changbin isn’t thrusting into your mouth, he’s squeezing your tits together and fucking them. It allows you a moment to rest your mouth while your head, albeit upside down, is nestled between his thick and toned thighs. They rub against your cheeks with each thrust of his hips. You tilt your head back further and stick your tongue out, licking his balls when they’re close enough.

Each of you give way to the pleasure you’re all feeling—swearing, grunting, moaning and groaning. A beautiful symphony of expletives and sounds. You’ve never felt so beautiful and desired and turned on in your life. You want more.

Seungmin lifts one of your legs and hooks it over his shoulder, while the other stays on the bed. He angles you on your side a bit and Changbin reaches forward to rub your clit as he moves back to fucking your mouth. Seungmin’s thrusts into your pussy are long and deep. He targets your most sensitive spot until you’re flung over the edge again, bursting around his cock, drenching his taught stomach.

Changbin pulls out of your mouth, letting you breathe as your body convulses. You have to slide away from Seungmin’s thrusts, still shaking.

“Wait, wait,” you say.

In a fraction of a second, the expression on Seungmin’s face changes to one of concern. Changbin is right behind you and helps you sit upright.

“You okay?”

“You good?”

They both ask at the same time.

You nod and point to the water bottle on Seungmin’s nightstand. Changbin retrieves it and passes it to you. You take a long drink before passing it on to Seungmin, then he gives it to Changbin. Everyone takes a second to calm their heaving chests.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “I wanna try something—Changbin lay down.”

You and Seungmin move out of the way and Changbin all but jumps onto the bed, landing on his back and bouncing a little. He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you straddle his waist. You’re on your knees, leaning over him. You lower your pussy onto his cock slowly. You’re so tender and sore, but it feels so fucking good still.

“Seungmin get behind me.”

“Yeah?” he says, sounding surprised.

“Yes,” you nod. “I want you both inside me.”

Seungmin gets onto the bed behind you and you remain leaning over Changbin to allow him room.

“Wait, lift up,” Seungmin requests.

You lift up off of Changbin and Seungmin’s hand starts rubbing your pussy. Sliding the moisture back to your ass. After a moment he positions you back over Changbin’s cock and you lower yourself again. Seungmin spits in his hand and lathers up your asshole even more. He grabs your waist with one hand and starts to guide you up and down on Changbin as he slips a finger inside.

Changbin cups the back of your neck and brings your mouth to his. You distract yourself with kissing him as you feel Seungmin getting in place behind you. He holds your hips still as he presses the tip of his dick against your asshole. Changbin cups both of your tits in his hands, helping to take your mind away. He continues kissing you and pinching your nipples as Seungmin pushes himself further inside.

You whimper into Changbin’s mouth as your body adjusts to accommodate both of them. You break the kiss with Changbin and rest your forehead against his. He lifts your head so you’re looking at him, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you want this to stop.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him.

Seungmin slides his hand up and down your back, caressing you as he starts to move his hips.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, as he withdraws and lubes up his cock with spit again. He slides back in, keeping his pace nice and slow. “Shit, guys. I don’t know about this. I can feel how full you are, y/n—it feels too fucking good.”

Changbin starts to move his hips too and you cry out at the feeling. You cannot lie—it does hurt a little. You most definitely can feel how full you are, too. But with each thrust from either of them, your clit rubs against Changbin’s smooth stomach, helping diminish the pain and replace it with pleasure.

“You like having us both inside of you?” Changbin asks when you moan.

“Mmmm,” is all you can get out.

They steadily pick up the pace of their thrusts. You shut your eyes, bouncing on their cocks as your head lolls from side.

“Fuck—it’s too tight—it’s too good,” Seungmin says. His hands move up to your shoulders, gripping them tightly. “I’m gonna come.”

You lower your mouth to Changbin’s again to help quiet yourself while Seungmin slams into your ass before abruptly pulling out as he comes. You feel the warm liquid hit your back, causing your body to jerk with each surprise spurt.

“You want mine too?” Changbin says against your lips, and you nod in response.

You sit up more, able to fuck him back better now. You plant your thighs against his and grind on him hard and fast to keep the friction against your already swollen clit. You can feel Seungmin behind you, wiping your back with something. You’re too focused on your own release, though. You throw your head back as you come around Changbin’s cock. He grips your hips and thrusts into you as his own orgasm follows directly after. You collapse on top of him, out of breath and completely fucking exhausted.

Seungmin falls to the bed next to you, splayed out on his back.

“I knew you two could get along,” you break the silence after you’ve all somewhat caught your breath and come back to your senses.

“Sometimes,” Seungmin replies, delivering a smack to your ass.

“Owww,” you whine.

Changbin rubs the area to soothe it.

“Who was better?” Changbin asks and you can hear the smile in his voice.

A brief silence falls over the three of you—of course you’re not going to answer that.

“Changbin, you can leave now,” Seungmin quips.

And just like that, the bubble of peace bursts. But at least you know your options if you ever need them to shut the fuck up and get along for a little while.

[ read chapter one of The SKZ House here ]

a/n: i literally have no words for myself. i hope you all have a great weekend hahahahaha

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Mine - Part 4

Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 2643

Summary: Steve and Reader struggle with whether they can trust one another or not. Both have feelings but is it enough to forgive and start over? Will they be able to have the future they each dream of?

Series Warning: NON/DUB CON, Swearing, Angst, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Male Masturbation, Somnophilia, Drugging, Light Bondage, Physical Fighting, Rough Sex, Choking, Female and Male Oral, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasms, Spanking

Please READ the Warnings!! These will be touched on throughout the series.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait with this fic. I just have recently been able to type again after my right shoulder surgery.

A/N 2: This chapter isn’t as dark as the other ones.

Moodboard by @fictional-affairs

Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫 🚫

Time seemed to go by slowly as you sat in the bedroom window watching as Steve finished chopping up logs for the fireplace. A faint sound of thunder echoes throughout the room and little goosebumps rise on your skin. You snuggle into your hoodie to chase away a storm that is brewing not just outside but within you as well. Steve grabs a bunch of logs and starts heading to the house. Light rain falls from the sky covering the ground below. You hear the door open and close downstairs followed by him walking around. 

The storm seems to pick up as the wind blows through the trees. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and your hands start to fidget in your lap. Will he be in a good mood today? Your heart is beating faster and faster the closer his footsteps reach the door. Suddenly a key unlocks the door and you hold your breath. Which Steve will greet you today? The door creaks open and you sit as still as you can. 

“Doll? I got a fire going in the fireplace and soup simmering on the stove. Why don’t you come join me?” His words held no authority in it but a simple request. 

You slowly stand up and turn to face him, walking over to where he stood in the doorway. Your eyes glanced over him as he stood before you in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. He gives you his million-dollar smile and pulls you in for a hug. Closing your eyes you let him envelop you in his arms. Your arms wrap around his body and you just give in. A minute later he is taking your hand and walking you down the stairs. 

The warmth from the fire hits you as soon as you descend the stairs. The smell of wood burning and soup filled the air as you took a deep breath in. Gosh if this was only a different time and place you would swear you were home. 

Steve leads you over to the table and pulls your chair out for you. You offer a shy smile and thank him. Steve kisses the top of your head and walks the short distance to the kitchen where he can still see you. 

Your eyes scan the dining room and kitchen. Steve was right, this is how you wanted your future house to look like. It’s as if he took all the ideas from your head and made it a reality. Everything in here was perfect except the man you once loved was a kidnapping, psychopath who had ripped away any trust you had in him. Tears lightly poured from your eyes and before you could do anything Steve was wiping them away. 

You hadn’t noticed that he brought the soup over to the table. Instead, he kneels next to you and continues to wipe them away gently as he takes in your shaking body.

“Doll, what’s wrong? You know you can speak to me about anything, right?” His voice is laced with concern and his deep blue eyes stare at you taking everything in. 

You shake your head as you continue to cry. What if you shared the truth about everything with him? Would he still carry out this twisted plan?

“Steve I can’t, I won’t share my thoughts cause you will just be mad at me. I don’t want to be humiliated again with your punishments. Let’s just eat and forget about it, okay?” 

Steve just stared at you. He knew something was weighing on you but did he want the truth? What if it was about leaving could he keep his composure? He shook his head knowing that this was tearing you apart inside and being this nervous around him wasn’t healthy.

“Please, doll, I promise I won’t be upset with you. Just tell me the truth.” His hand caresses your cheek. “I swear I won’t punish you for being honest with me. All I want in this world is for you to be happy with me.”

Your gaze drops to your lap where your hands are and you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself. You look back up into his blue eyes and decide it is now or never.

“It’s not that easy Steve to tell you this. There is no question that before all of this, I loved you from the moment I met you. Your smile drew me in and I knew I was yours forever. At that time you would flirt but always held back with me like you were searching for something else or maybe someone else. That was until recently and your emotions shifted so quickly that I felt overwhelmed but excited that you finally wanted me. But that’s a lie 'cause you just want to breed me.”

Steve’s breath hitched and he was about to retort before you cut him off.

“That night we made love, I finally felt like my dreams were coming true and that maybe you had loved me all along. But that’s not the case. You said it yourself last night you want me to listen to you and not question anything you say. But how can I not question your behavior? You’re mean, and controlling and you have a device on me to keep my super soldier serum from working. You talked about how I broke your trust, have you ever considered that you shattered my trust with you? The love I once had for you is slowly falling apart and I don’t think I could ever love you under these circumstances.”

Steve listened as you poured your heart out. A part of him wanted to be angry about what you’re saying, while another part of him couldn’t believe that you were once in love with him. Once? Steve shook his head, maybe he was going about this in the wrong way. He never liked bullies and from what she is saying he sounded just like one.

“Steve trust goes both ways. If you want me to earn yours then you must earn mine as well. This dominant thing you’re doing over me won’t work if you want true love and a family one day. I’m pleading with you to stop this madness and let’s work on us before my love goes out like a flame never to be lit again.”

He takes a breath in and out trying to contain himself. Yes, he could see what she was saying about him. Steve did want her to make a family with but it was more than that. Little did she know he loved her the same, from the very beginning. He didn’t think for an instance that Tony would match them together in a million years, that’s why it never went beyond flirting. Steve took her hands in his and decided he needed to be honest.

“Look doll, I have loved you from the day we met. I never thought I would ever have a future with you. Not until Tony said we matched. I was so focused on finding the right woman who could have my children that I got blinded along the way. I’ve never wanted to hurt you nor do I plan on it. I just want a chance at us. For what could be? But it’s hard to trust your intentions after you tried to run away from me. How can I know if what you’re saying is the truth?” His eyes pleaded to hers as he searched her face for answers.

There is no way he loved her for that long. But, what if he is telling the truth? She closed her eyes and thought back to the beginning. Their awkward conversations, the silly jokes, him always complimenting her, the soft touches when no one looked and then it clicked. Her eyes opened wide and a tear fell from them again.

“I’m sorry I tried to run away but I was scared. I didn’t know what you wanted to do with me. You can believe this to be the truth. With how messed up this situation is I don’t want to be away from you. Look if we both try, maybe we can work towards trusting one another again. What do you say?”

Steve gave you that smile you always loved. He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s try again and work towards trusting one another. I promise to not harm you or take you against your will again. But know this, if you are lying to me you will know my wrath, and trust me when I say you haven’t seen the mean side of me yet.”

The last sentence sent chills through your body. By the way, he was looking at you, you swore there was something evil brewing. You kept telling yourself to relax and everything would be okay. If you did decide to run, the time had to be right. For now, your feelings were telling you to try things with Steve. What’s the worst that could happen?

The next morning you woke up to Steve cuddling you close and your legs tangled together. You had gone to bed in just his t-shirt and he slept naked.  The rain had ended overnight and the sun was rising in the sky. You reflected on last night after you spoke your truth. Steve let you sit by the fireplace and read a book instead of locking you in the bedroom. It was a nice moment between the two of you when he sat on the other end of the couch with your legs in his lap. 

Before bed, Steve had told you that tomorrow you both were going to try to start over again. That he would follow your lead on this while he learns to trust you again.

You smile to yourself as you soak up all the cuddles from him and let out a sigh of contempt. Just as you wiggle your butt from excitement you hear a groan behind you.

“Keep that up and I’m going to fill that pretty pussy.”

A giggle escaped your lips. “So what if I want you to?”

Steve’s eyes opened at that comment and he had a grin on his face. “Is that so?” He questioned. 

When you wiggled again Steve quickly rolled you onto your back and parted your legs so he could now lay in between them. Steve pushed his shirt up and pulled it off quickly. He rubbed his cock against your already wet pussy. You couldn’t help but be excited cause you knew how well Steve was between the sheets. Steve’s cock started to get covered in your arousal and the tip of his cock kept nudging your entrance until finally, he slid home. 

Both of you let out a groan once he was fully inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your hands claw at his back when he starts moving with hard thrusts. Your nails rake down his back with every thrust of his hips. Steve is on his forearms so he can kiss and swallow your moans. With every thrust, you moan and gasp in pleasure. He keeps a steady, hard pace and you end up squealing in pleasure as he hits a certain spot inside you that has you seeing stars. With every thrust, you’re getting closer and closer to your impending orgasm. Steve quickly scoops your legs up with both arms and pushes your legs to your chest deepening his thrusts. 

Your fingernails scrape down his arms as you try to find a way to ground yourself from the pleasure he is giving you. Steve keeps thrusting into you harder and harder while he starts to play with your clit. It brings your orgasm to a peak as you scream his name into the abyss. Your pussy clenches down on his cock as he continues to plow into you. Once you come down from your high Steve pulls out of you and flips you over to your stomach. Pulling you to your knees he sinks back into your velvety walls and fucks you hard and fast as his fingers dig into your hips. 

This is everything Steve has wanted from you. You're being submissive to him whether you realize it or not. Your head is on the bed, fists clenched into the sheets while you moan out incoherent words. He desperately wants to fill you up and breed you. He knows having a baby will link you two forever and the time to start that family is now. 

The faster Steve is pounding into you the closer he is getting to his high but lord he needs you to cum one more time. His left-hand leaves your hip and his fingers move down to circle your clit again. All it takes is a few swipes and you're screaming his name to the heavens above. Your cunt grasps his cock and milks him dry as Steve cums deep inside you. His groans fill the air as he gives a couple more sloppy thrusts into you. Steve looks down on your spent form and leans over your back to kiss your shoulder. 

Once he pulls out of you he goes to the bathroom to clean himself up before he returns to you with a washcloth. Gently he cleans you up and throws the washcloth in the laundry hamper. You’re completely exhausted and feel like you can barely move. If you had your super soldier serum running through your veins instead of suppressed you could have kept up with him, no problem. Now your body could just roll over to your back and look up at him. 

He was smiling down at you looking like a man who just finished a successful mission. You lifted your arms a little to show him you wanted a hug. Steve lay next to you and brought you in for a hug. He held you close to his chest as you snuggled into him. Your cheek rubbed against his chest hair as you enjoyed this feeling of euphoria. 

Maybe things could work out between you both and you could have a happy ending? It just depends on how Steve decides to treat you, like an object or someone to be loved unconditionally. You both promised to start over and this was the best way to show each other how much you loved one another. Hopefully, he will begin to trust you over time and maybe get your super soldier serum flowing through your veins again. I mean it’s not like he wants you like a regular woman, right? There is always going to be that adventurous side of you and you’re going to want a normal life that isn’t just sex. Though you had to admit this is the best sex you’ve had in your life. It’s everything you dreamed of minus the kidnapping part. 

Steve kisses you on the forehead and groans as he stretches. “Why don’t we get in the shower and I will cook breakfast for you? I’m sure you’re hungry. What does my lovely doll want to eat?”

You smile up at him and answer, “Well I do have a craving for pancakes and you sure do make the best ones.”

Chuckling, Steve nods his head. “I can do that for you, doll.”

Steve rolls out of bed and pulls you to your feet. As you walk to the bathroom Steve slaps your butt playfully. “Though first, I think I need another round of you in the shower.”

You squeal in delight as you head to the bathroom. Maybe this could work, you think to yourself as the hot water sprays down on both of you. Today is a brand new day to figure out whatever it is between the two of you. 

Taglist:

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@wolfsmom1

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 4] Sayo's Insistence

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Excuse me.” Sayo says, making you look up at her. You hold back on rolling your eyes, far too busy and tired to deal with anyone. You wait for her to speak, but she takes too long for your liking, so you end up asking,

“Can I help you?” You ask, trying your best to hide the annoyance in your voice but it still reflects. She luckily doesn’t notice it, or doesn’t care enough to address it. You don’t mean to be rude to her but so much is going on and you have no idea how to deal with it.

“I want to go out this weekend and get to know my husband’s friends a little more… Would you care to join us?” She offers, and you end up sighing before a fake smile appears on your lips. You end up shaking your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m quite busy on weekends. Your mother-in-law keeps me busy.” You answer, and you hope that’s enough to keep her off your back. But it isn’t. She still stands at your desk and she ponders your responses for a moment.

“I’ll talk to her.” She responds, and before you insist that she shouldn’t, that you’re not in the mood to go out. If you get a day off, you’ll spend time with your son, certainly not with Satoru and his wife. You know that you’ll get a message from Mrs. Gojo later, and she’ll give you the day off. 

“Mommy…” Ren taps your face to wake you up. His morning breath hits your nose. You scrunch your nose while your hand goes to cover his mouth as your eyes slowly open. You finally take your hand off his mouth when you sit up. You look at the clock that’s in the corner of your nightstand, and you’re definitely not late for anything. In fact, you don’t have to start getting ready yet. You have around three hours to go. 

“What’s up, baby?” You ask him, your hand going to his soft white hair and caressing it.

“I’m hungry.” He informs you as a yawn leaves your lips. It causes him to yawn as well and you chuckle. You stand up from the bed and begin to walk to the bathroom. He begins to follow, which is something that you quickly got used to. The moment Ren began to walk, he followed you everywhere which meant you no longer had any sort of privacy.

“Brush your teeth.” You tell him pointing at the little stool that’s in front of the sink, which was put there to help him reach the sink. The tip of his tongue sticks out as he remembers to follow every step of what you’ve taught him: wet the brush, apply some toothpaste, wet the brush again, then smile as he brushes his teeth.

When you’re done, you wash your hands and when you finish washing your hands, he’s done brushing his teeth. He steps off the stool and patiently waits for you, sitting on the bathroom floor as you brush your teeth and quickly wash your face. You dry your face with a towel and then walk out the door, not saying anything because Ren just follows behind.

“What do you want to eat, Ren?” You ask him as you walk to the kitchen. You have more than enough time to make a big breakfast, so you can give him whatever he asks for.

“Waffles… and yogurt.” He answers. So you’ll give him that for breakfast, along with some fruit. You open the fridge to grab a cup of yogurt for him, so he can eat it while you prepare the rest of his breakfast. You give him a strawberry yogurt with a blue plastic spoon while you begin to make the rest of his breakfast.

“Do you want to do something fun this weekend, honey? I’m off this weekend.” You inform your son, and he puts a finger to his chin, pouting his lips. He begins to brainstorm what he wants to do instead of eating his breakfast. While he thinks about it, you try to think of how you’ll deal with Mrs. Gojo, Satoru, and Sayo. Mrs. Gojo didn’t give you the weekend off out of her goodwill; you’re not sure if the woman knows of that word.

“Can we go to the park?” He asks and you hum in response. He smiles brightly before he realizes something… He doesn’t know when it’ll all happen. “When’s the weekend?”

“In three days, Ren.” You respond, and after hearing the answer, he continues eating his yogurt. As you make the waffle mix, you hear your phone ring from the bedroom. You look at the boy who puts his spoon and yogurt down to run to the bedroom and grab your phone for you. You chuckle at the amazing helper that the world gave you. The phone stops ringing, and you assume that he picked it up, and it’s confirmed when you hear,

“Hello?... Hi grammy!... Mommy’s in the kitchen… Yes.” And then he comes running out of the room, holding your phone, yelling, “Mommy, grammy is on the phone.!”

You take the phone from him and bring it up to your ear. You roll your eyes when you hear her voice. “I need you to pick up some dry cleaning as soon as possible. I’m giving you the weekend off so I need you to come early these next two days.”

“Alright, Mrs. Gojo. I’ll be there as soon as Ren’s nanny gets here.” You answer before hanging up on her. You’re sure you’ll get an earful from her for hanging up instead of waiting for her to do so, but you don’t care. You call Ren’s nanny and inform her of the change of plans, and of course she replies quickly because two days ago she showed up late to her job; she has to make sure it never happens again. She’ll be there in around twenty minutes. “Okay, baby, I’ll have to leave soon.”

“What about my waffle?” He asks.

“Of course I’ll make you your waffle, honey. I can’t leave you without your desired breakfast.”

You walked through the Gojo estate’s front door, a frown on your face since your breakfast was cut short by Mrs. Gojo. You hate to admit the fact that you put in a little more effort this morning dressing up: putting on a little more makeup, wearing cuter heels and putting on your cutest work outfit. 

After seeing Satoru and Sayo two days ago, you knew you wouldn’t bump into them again. You know Satoru is too much of a coward to go to your floor. Mrs. Gojo also had lessened your workload for her, and you completed everything during your lunch break, coming around at a time that you knew Satoru wouldn’t be around. But you’re certain that he’s here right now.

He’s probably in the backyard, eating breakfast with his mother and wife on the patio, just like when he was a kid. You remember always watching from a window as Satoru was forced each morning to eat breakfast with his mother and father– He always complained to you about it because he had to follow a bunch of dumb rules about eating properly.

You walk to the kitchen of the house, planning to leave the dry cleaning with one of the maids before leaving. You dressed up pretty just in case you saw Satoru, however, you don’t plan on interacting with him. And just as you’re about to hand the dress to someone, she says,

“Mrs. Gojo wants you to go to the backyard. She wants to talk to you.”

“Alright.” You shut your eyes for a moment before walking away. A sigh leaves your lips, and your nerves grow with each step you take. You try to think of what you’re going to say. You quickly spot them when you step outside, and you freeze. You squint as you look at their direction as you try to figure out if the extra person that sits with them is the same man that was Satoru’s best friend for years.

He yells your name and stands up to hug you when you get closer, and a small smile, one that you try to suppress, comes to your lips when you feel Suguru’s arms wrap around you. Suguru was always so sweet to you, and it’s nice to see him again after so many years; and his demeanor hasn’t changed either which you love. He asks, “How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I’m good. How about you? Are you a doctor now?” You respond, and he nods in response. You stare at each other for a moment, looking at how time and age has changed you. Mrs. Gojo clears her throat a minute later.

“Suguru is finishing his residency soon. That’s what he told us.” Sayo speaks up, and Suguru takes a seat again. “Please take a seat as well. I asked my mother-in-law to invite you.”

“I already had breakfast, sorry.” You lie. You’re hungry but you don’t want to sit down with them and eat. “I should get–”

“It’s way too early to go to the office.” Mrs. Gojo cuts you off. You glare at her for a short moment before your eyes fall on Suguru because you don’t want to look at anyone else. 

“You know what they say, Mrs. Gojo, the early bird gets the worm.” You respond. Sayo, Suguru and Mrs. Gojo stare at you while Satoru tries to look somewhere else. He makes it painfully obvious that something has happened between you two but thankfully his wife is so focused on other trivial matters to notice just how awkward he is.

“There’s no worm for you to catch here. Join us.” She says and it’s an order even though she tries to disguise it as a request. You have no option but to sit at the table. “Are you joining Satoru and his friends this weekend?”

“I’m busy.” You answer. The past couple of days you’ve realized that you somewhat have part of the upper hand. If Satoru finds out that his son was hidden per his mother’s request, he’ll definitely cut her off. However, you know you aren’t in full control. You still have to follow Mrs. Gojo’s orders, but you don’t have to act like you’re happy to do it. You can give her some attitude.

“Really? I gave you the weekend off.” She points out.

“Ren needs attention.” You respond, and Suguru’s eyebrows raise.

“Who’s Ren?” Suguru interrupts.

“A cat.” You answer, and Mrs. Gojo is thankful about the fact that you spoke up first because she was about to call him a dog. Suguru is still a bit confused but he ends up nodding.

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t pay attention to your cat, but it’d be really fun if you’d join us.” Suguru says, and Sayo is quick to agree.

“I really want to see all of my husband’s childhood friends. I really want you to join us.” Sayo sounds so sweet, and she’s making it impossible for you to dislike her. “Isn’t that right, Satoru?”

“Right…” Satoru is forced to speak up and agree. He actually speaks more, which takes you by surprise, “We’re just going out to dinner and after we’re going to a club. You can join us only to eat… Of course, we’re paying for everything.”

The last sentence stings. He’s insinuating that you can’t afford it, and he probably isn’t wrong but you hate it.

“She’s going, honey. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Gojo puts on a fake smile, her hand wrapping around your arm and squeezing. You don’t understand why she insists, having you go out with Satoru and his wife increases the possibility of them finding out the truth.

You want to say a couple of things, but you know it won’t end well. You end up sighing, before you stand up from your seat, “I have to go now.”

“Why doesn’t she like you? Weren’t you two friends?” Sayo half-whispers when you walk away. Satoru ends up shrugging while Suguru chuckles after hearing the question. She sees Suguru laugh and she asks, “Do you know?”

“No idea.” Suguru responds. After a moment of incredible awkwardness, Satoru clears his throat.

“Let’s change the topic.”

[lousypotatoes]

What A Glorious Feeling

This chapter takes place after the pilot but before the first episode of the series.

Reader is a falcon demon, doesn't have a beak, wings drape over her kinda like Valentino's (i want him dead), reader has gray skin, usually wears a black tube top, black and white pinstripe pants, black boots, and has a daisy in her hair. Reader has the eyes and ears of a falcon and is also slightly cannibalistic.  Reader can summon any weapons at will and can move things with her mind, whenever she does this, her eyes glow red. Like Alastor, reader can also summon anything at will. If you had something else in mind for how the reader looks, you are more than welcome to imagine something different. 

I know Alastor is canonically aroace, but obviously, in this story he is not. Also, in this book, nobody knows the Radio Demon's name unless he decides to tell them. Sorry I should of said this earlier.

Song Recommendation:

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Present day...

"Ah Dustin," Y/N said, walking over to the man, who was cowering in the corner. "You broke our deal. You know what happens to people who don't keep their word with me, don't you?"

"Please," he begged. "Give me one more month I promise-"

"You said the exact same thing six months ago," she spat angrily, her wings unfolding. 

"I swear-thi-this is the last time," he stuttered. "I just need-"

She summoned red chains, that latched onto Dustin's neck. Tugging the chains over to him, she grabbed his face, digging her claws into his cheeks. He let out a yelp of pain. 

"The deal was that if I killed your pathetic wife, I'd get your soul, and you would get me what I needed from that idiot overlord who thinks he's the shit, just because he's a pimp!" Y/N snarled, digging her claws in harder, drawing blood. "I have been more then generous towards you, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'm trying!" he cried out, tears running down his face. "Please just don't kill me!"

She had a small frown on her face. "I should rip you apart limb by limb," she said, calmly but in a deadly voice. "But I'm not goin' to do that," She removed the chains from his neck and put him down. 

"Thank you so much Assassin," Dustin said, wiping the blood off his cheeks. "I swear I will-"

He never finished his sentence. As fast as lighting, she summoned an axe and chopped his head clean off. 

"Instead, I'll make this is as quick and painless for you," she giggled, licking off the blood from the axe. "I'll have to thank Carmilla for the angelic steel at the next overlord meeting."

Using the axe, Y/N chopped up his limbs and stuffed them in a trash bag she had brought with her. 

"Cannibal town here I come," she smiled once she was done.

"Knock, knock," she said, knocking at the parlor door. 

"Y/N!" Rosie exclaimed upon seeing you. "What are you doing here so soon?" 

"I brought you a little somethin' to snack on," Y/N said, holding up the trash bag. 

"Oh you spoil me so much, my dear," Rosie said, licking her lips. 

"Anything for my closest friend," Y/N said, handing her the trash bag. 

"This is the fifth one this month," Rosie said, opening up the bag. "Sinners know better than to break a deal with you."

"They'll never learn, Rosie," she giggled as she took a seat on the couch. "Did you see the news the other day?"

"The Princess sure does have her hopes up for this hotel," Rosie answered, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Tea, Y/N?"

"No thank you," Y/N answered. "Do you think anyone would actually check in to that hotel?" 

"Who knows at this point," Rosie said, sipping her tea. "But judging by how people reacted, I don't think it's going to work out," 

"Shame," Y/N said. "It's a good idea, if it's actually possible."

"Say Y/N," she said, setting her cup down. "A friend of mine just recently got back into town. He's staying at this hotel," 

"Oh yeah?" Y/N asked curiously. "Who is it?"

"The Radio Demon," she said simply. 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "He's been gone for seven years," she said. "Why on Earth would he return now? And why would he be stayin' at the Princess's hotel?"

"Satan knows," Rosie replied. "Y'know, you and him would really hit it off."

Y/N's eyebrow rose up. "Sorry my darlin'," she said, lightly chuckling. "The Radio Demon is most certainly not my type."

"You don't even know him," Rosie said, a slight frown on her face. 

"I don't need too," Y/N said curtly. "From what I know, he seems like a self-absorbed prick."

"Oh c'mon," Rosie nudged you. "The both of you have so much in common! You both like whiskey, you both like jazz, you both like killing people-"

"Why all of a sudden are you tryin' to play matchmaker?" Y/N interrupted. "And why The Radio Demon out of people?"

"Because you need to get out there!" Rosie said, smoothing out her dress. "Ever since I've known you, one of the main things you talk about is how in love you were when you were alive. What was his name again?" 

"His name was Alastor," she said, her heart hurting. "I've searched all of Hell Rosie. Either he's up in Heaven, or the Exorcists got to him."

"That's why I want you to meet him," Rosie said, patting Y/N's shoulder. "Please? Do it for little ol' me?" 

"I suppose so," she sighed. "I was already thinkin' about checkin' out the hotel anyway."

"Marvelous!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together "I promise, you won't regret it!"

Landing in front of the hotel, she knocked at the door, feeling nervous, her wings fluttered behind her. 

"I'm coming!" chirped a feminine voice from behind the door. 

Fiddling with the hem of her top, Y/N waited until the person opened up the door. 

 The princess herself opened the door. "Hello! And welcome to the Hazbin Hot-"

Upon seeing your face in the doorway, she immediately slammed the door shut. 

"Vaggie!" Charlie cried out. 

"What is it?" Vaggie asked, coming down the staircase. 

"The Assassin is at the door," Charlie panicked, pointing at the door. "What do we do?" 

"Really? Another fucking overlord?" Vaggie angrily said, walking over to the door. "I'll handle this."

The door opened up a second time. Instead of the princess, a girl with a large X over her eye appeared in the doorway. 

"What the hell do you want?" she asked suspiciously. 

"There's no need to be so hostile," Y/N said, putting up her hands. "I'm here to simply offer up my services."

"We don't need you to kill anyone,"

"Not those kinds of services," she laughed. "I want to help with your hotel."

"Thanks, but we already have an overlord helping us," Vaggie said, eyeing her up and down. 

"The Radio Demon, yes I know," she said, crossing her arms. "I still want to help,"

As Vaggie was about to close the door, Charlie popped up beside her. 

"Wait Vaggie, we could use her help," she said, smiling. "With two overlords helping us, we can get a lot more done!" 

"You have a point," Vaggie grumbled. "But I'm keeping my eye on you," 

Charlie beckoned you to come in. "Thank you, Princess Morningstar," Y/N said, stepping inside.

"Oh please, just call me Charlie," she waved off. "This is Vaggie," she gestured to the girl with the X.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both,"

"Thank you!" Charlie gushed. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel-er-"

"Y/N," she said. "My name is Y/N."

"Right! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel Y/N! Would you like a tour?"

"Of course,"

"Why does the bar look like that?" Y/N asked after the tour was over. 

"Someone blew it up a few days ago," Charlie said simply. "Our facility manager fixed it up so it's nothing to worry about!" 

"Oh-uh-" Y/N didn't know was to say. "I'm glad it's all fixed."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "I have to introduce you to everyone! C'mon!" Charlie grabbed her arm and dragged her away. 

"This is Nifty, our maid," she said gesturing to the small demon, cleaning the floor. "Nifty, this is Y/N, she'll be staying with us 

Nifty turned around and her eye widened and she smiled in a scary way. 

"Ooooo! I've never seen a bad girl before!" she said menacingly as she crawled up on you. "Do you want to punish some bad boys with me?"

"Just give me the time and place, sweetie," Y/N said, putting Nifty down. Nifty quicky ran off.

"She's mostly harmless," Charlie said nervously. "Just don't let her bite you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she laughed. 

"This is Husk, our bartender," she said gleefully. 

Husk was drinking from a bottle, he nodded at Y/N but didn't say anything. 

"It's nice to meet you, Husk," she said politely. 

Husk recognized her at second glance, almost spitting out his booze, he decided not to say anything about it, though. 

"Oooooo heya Y/N~" said a voice. 

Y/N turned around and grinned. "It's nice to see you again Angel Dust,"

"Ohhh it's nice to see you too baby~" he said seductively. 

"Oh that's wonderful!" Charlie exclaimed, her eyes sparkilng. "You two know each other!"

"Yeah, we met at a party a while back," Y/N explained. "He kept wantin' to look at a sword that I had just got."

"Y'know babycakes," Angel said, walking over to her. "I could show you my sword, if you want~"

"Another time, Angel," Y/N laughed, Charlie laughed awkwardly with her. 

"Well, I think that's it!" Charlie said, clapping her hands together. "I'll show you to your room and if there's anything you need, just-"

"Oh, we have a new guest?  Heavens, why didn't anyone tell me?" said a staticky voice. 

Y/N turned and saw the infamous Radio Demon standing right behind her. Upon closer inspection, there was a look in his eyes that seemed familiar. 

Too familiar. 

Y/N had loved looking into those eyes, it had brought comfort to her. 

"Oh my gosh! How could I forget!" Charlie said. "Y/N is going to be helping us around the hotel just like you!" 

At the mention of her name, something pulled at Alastor's heartstrings. 

"Well, we need all the help we can get, that's for certain," Alastor laughed.

That laugh, Y/N had imagined it every single day when she arrived in Hell.

"Y/N, this is our facility mana-"

"Alastor?"

Her voice, it sounded like an angel. Alastor remembered the first time he heard it. Everything clicked into place for the both of them.

"Y/N?"

Sorry if all the characters are a little ooc. I need to rewatch the show lmao. 

THERES AN ECLIPSE TODAY!!!

stay safe out there you little rascals <33

xoxo, Izzy

[invisible-lint]

Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 4

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: You tell Feyre about the bond and come up with an idea

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

You're surprised your pacing hasn't worn a hole in the floor. You had finished your bath and dressed. Eaten the food that had been brought in for you, and even braided your hair. But you couldn't convince yourself to leave the relative safety of this room. Because you knew yourself and you knew that you wouldn't be delicate about it. No, the moment you see Feyre, you're going to just blurt it all out. And you're not sure how she’ll react. You love her as if she were actually your sister. Some days, you feel as if you may love her more than your brother. You're not sure you could stand it if she hated you.  So here you are, pacing like a coward. You suppose you should just do it. A wound doesn’t hurt any less if you know it’s coming. 

You wipe your hands on the pants of the night court attire, trying not to squirm. It was the first time you had ever worn pants and you weren't sure how you felt about the way the material gathered between your legs. It'd have to do for now, there weren't any dresses in the wardrobe. 

You finally force yourself to leave the bedroom, heading for the library. You linger outside for a moment before taking a breath and walking in over to where Feyre sits. You pull the chair out and sit across from her, but the moment she looks up from the paper and sets the quill down, your nerves get the best of you, and you stand back up, starting to pace again. Feyre watches you, curious.

“What is it?”

“Rhys. Rhysand is my mate.” You pick at the cuff of the shirt.

“Oh. Does that mean you're going to stay here?”

“No. I'll still go back to Spring with you when it's time.” You look at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face is blank, expressionless. 

“Why?”

“Because I don't want you to have to deal with the fallout by yourself. And because I don't want to leave you there alone.”

“I wouldn't be alone. I have Tamlin.” 

“Feyre…” You barely manage to hold back a sigh. 

“What?” 

“Do you want to marry him?” You reach for her hand, trying to offer comfort, but she pulls her hand away, anger dancing across her features. 

“Why do you keep asking me that?” 

“Because I don't think you do.” 

“I think you should stay here.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from flinching, uncertain why the words hurt so much. “Why do you think that?” 

“Because you're miserable there. That's why you think I don't want to marry Tamlin. Because you're worried about me ending up like you. But I won't. Because I love him and he loves me.” You do flinch that time. Were you truly so miserable that everyone knew it? You had thought you had done a good job hiding it around Feyre at the very least, and the realization makes guilt sink in your stomach like lead. 

“Is that enough for you? Is the life he will allow you enough? Planning parties and birthing heirs?” 

“Do you think your life here will be anything different?” Her words sting. Rhys was nothing like Tamlin. 

“That’s not the point, Feyre.” You press your palms against your legs, breathing deep, to try to keep your temper at bay. 

“No? What is the point then?” Feyre crosses her arms, her gaze hard. 

“You're already miserable in Spring, but you're not trapped. At least not yet. That doesn't have to be your life.” You sit down across from her, trying to soften your gaze, eyes pleading.

“You're not trapped if you want to be there. I just… I just need the mating bond to snap and then everything will be better.” 

You nod, chewing your lip, reaching for her hand again. She uncrosses her arms, letting you take it this time. An olive branch, you suppose. 

“You think you're mates?”

She nods. “I do.” 

You force a smile. “Well, now I understand why you got so defensive when I suggested you didn't want to marry him. I'm sorry, Feyre.”

She smiles back. “So am I. I could have told you. So… Rhys is your mate? How do you feel about that?”

You blow out a breath, slumping in the chair. “I… Need some time to wrap my head around it.” 

She nods. “Because of your family?”

You manage to hold back a grimace. Of course Tamlin told her about that. You're sure he left out the part that made him look bad. The reason why Rhys and the previous High Lord had killed your family. 

“Not really. I spent more time in close proximity to our family than Tamlin did. Aside from our mother… They were not good males. They deserved what happened to them.” You notice the way Feyre's eyes widen in surprise. She looks like she has more questions she wants to ask, but you keep talking. “No, I'm not quite ready to move on yet. I need a little more time.” She pulls her hand away, guilt shadowing her face. You can see it as she retreats into herself. You stand from your chair, walking around the table to kneel in front of her, taking both of her hands in yours. 

“I will never, ever, blame you Feyre. You never have and never will be to blame for what I lost. I wish you could have come into our lives another way, because you have become like a sister to me and I am so glad that I have gotten to know you.” 

You're both tearing up, but Feyre is smiling, and you do too. 

“You've become like a sister to me too. Can I ask you something?” 

You nod. “Of course, anything.” 

“Would Andras want you to be miserable? Or would he want you to move on?” 

You stare at her not saying anything, but your silence must answer for you, because she nods, squeezing your hands.

“That's why you should stay. So you can move on, because I don't think you can in Spring.” 

“I’ll find a way. But I want to come up with something that keeps Tamlin from wrecking too much furniture.” 

Feyre rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but the smile is still on her face. You stand, letting go of her hands. “I'll let you get back to your letter practice. I found a music room with a piano in it and Rhys said he would get me new music to learn! It's been so long since I've had new music!” 

The guilt that had been gripping Feyre's chest tight ever since she had become your friend, your sister, loosens itself at the way your eyes light up with excitement. 

“I'll have to find you later so I can listen.” 

You smile, squeezing her shoulder as you leave, finding your way back to the music room, just in time to see Rhys laying a packet of music on the piano bench. He turns to look at you when you enter, smiling at the smile on your face. 

“I take it your conversation with Feyre went well then?” 

“It did. We both lost our tempers, said some unkind things, but we also said things that the other needed to hear. She thinks I should stay.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “And what do you think?” 

“I think she's right. I'll never be able to move on as long as I'm still in Spring. There are too many memories there, too many reminders. And I know it's what Andras would want. I know that if the bond had snapped while he was alive, he would have been cautious. Probably would have insisted on being here with me, but he would have encouraged me to explore it. He would not want me to be miserable.” 

Rhys nods, walking over to take your hand, brushing his thumb across the back of it. “We take this at your pace. Whatever you want.” 

“I'd like for us to be friends first. I want to get to know you. The real you. Rhys, not Rhysand.” 

“I think that could be arranged.” He smiles, violet eyes twinkling with stars. 

“And I'd like some dresses. I don't like wearing pants.” 

He laughs. “That also could be arranged.” 

You look over the male in front of you, your mate, eyes lighting up as the start of an idea forms in your head. 

“Tell me everything about Feyre's bargain, bargain tattoos and bargain magic.”

It's nearly the final day when you burst into the library, Rhys following close behind. Feyre jumps, quill scratching across the parchment, startled by your sudden entrance.

“I came up with an idea so that I can stay here. When Rhys takes you back, he’ll tell Tamlin that I made a bargain with him to release you from your bargain. You have to return to the Night Court two more times to make up for the remainder of the three months missed, but once those weeks are over, as long as I remain in the night court, you don't have to return. You and I will also make a bargain, but we'll get into that when Rhys leaves.” You glance at him over your shoulder, giving him a pointed look. He raises his hands in mock surrender, turning to leave, tugging on the bond as he does. You shake your head, grinning. 

“I think overall it's a good idea. Why are we making a bargain?”

“Because I want to know that you're okay. I know you want to be in Spring. And I understand why now. But if anything ever changes, I want you to tell me and we’ll get you. I don't care if it's a week from now or 100 years from now. You'll always be there because you choose to be.”

“And you won't be upset if I do?” 

“Of course not. I hope the way I pushed hasn't made you feel like I would be. I really did think I was helping.” 

“I know you did. What will our bargain be?”

“Rhys said it can be something simple, as long as it remains unfulfilled, or is open ended, the tattoo and the bond that comes with the bargain will remain.” Feyre nods, waiting for you to tell her your idea. “We promise to write to each other once a week for the rest of our lives.”

“You made Rhys leave for that?” She raises an eyebrow.

You grin. “Yeah, I did.” 

She laughs. “I accept your bargain.” 

You feel the tattoo appear on the inside of your forearm, near your elbow and roll up your sleeve to take a look. You smile and the cluster of flowers that appeared on your skin.

“Little lillies?” Feyre asks.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “Alstroemeria. Flowers have symbolic meanings and this one  means friendship, love, strength, and devotion. It's for people who help each other through the trials and tribulations of life.”

“For sisters.” Feyre stands, pulling you into a hug.

You pace in the study, waiting for Rhys to return from taking Feyre back to Spring. It shouldn't be taking this long, should it? You had sent Feyre back with a letter for Tamlin, explaining that you had felt responsible for Feyre's bargain with Rhys, so you had made the bargain to take her place. She would give it to him after Rhys left. 

You tug on the bond, trying to make yourself relax, managing to do so when you find it firmly in place. You would know if something was wrong. He was probably just antagonizing your brother. 

Rhys winnows back in, crossing over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to stop your pacing. “If you keep going you might wear a hole in the rug, and I'm rather fond of this one.” 

“How did it go?” You drop your shields enough to let him in so he can show you, grimacing at what you see. 

“Don't fret, Darling. It could have been worse.” 

“It absolutely could have. I'm just not a fan of the way he pulled Feyre away from you. If he's not careful, he's going to hurt her.” You frown, brow furrowed. 

“If he does, we’ll know.” He taps the spot where your tattoo is. You nod, trying to force yourself not to worry. Part of you still wishes you had gone back with her. 

“So what now? You bring me to your Court?”

He nods. “I do, but not the Court of Nightmares. I bring you to my true court, to my home. I bring you to Velaris.”

A/N: And there it is! It took a completely different path than I was expecting. Unless I get super inspired and write the next chapter between now and Monday, the next chapter will not be posted until the 17th at the earliest. I will keep my requests open, because I'll probably still write, I just won't be editing and posting!

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose

@darker-december @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loving-and-dreaming @bravo-delta-eccho

@sidthedollface2 @oucereeng @jesskidding3 @panther-girl-124 @jiarkives

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[leaderwon]

HATE THAT...

chapter 30 — lila rossi

Synopsis :- In a world where lovers are destined and written by fate, You hated the idea of a soulmate, or maybe you just hated him. Jake wanted a soulmate, a lover to be with for the rest of eternity. Just not you. Not wanting eachother, the both of you occupy yourself with someone else. But the universe had other plans.

luna's diary : half asleep while writing, ignore my mistake

prev — masterlist — next

Your clock read 4:56 pm as you got up from your nap. You looked at the tiny mirror at your bedside table, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You couldn't remember if you brokedown before falling asleep.

Your eyes landed into to the empty bed a few feet away from yours. The worst part of going through all this? Your own bestfriends not believing you. How you wished god would listen to your wishes and you would finally wakeup from this nightmare you were in.

You unlocked your phone and swiped up to see if you had recieved a notification. Ofcourse there's nothing.

Everything from all those years ago was happening again and you had no idea how to stop it. Worse part? you had friends which you didn't last time and they didn't believe you.

You sighed starting to get ready. What was the point of going anyway? You were about to be disappointed even more.

Would they remove you from the team? You wouldn't surprise if they did.

Getting out of the room you previously shared with Ningning, you saw how dull your dorm felt. You missed them. Your initial plan of grabbing a snack before you left was ruined as you slowly started to lose your appetite.

The air was thick with tension and awkwardness as you jogged around waiting for your coach to show up. On the corner of your eye, you could see Iseul with her crutches sitting and staring at you. God that fake bitch.

As you were jogging, a group of girls bumped shoulders with you. "Oh look it's the bully!" One of them said laughing at you. Ignore them.

"Iseul is so nice tho, why would you want to bully her?" "imagine being so insecure you go bully someone else" "Are your parents proud?" were the comments you heard as you continued jogging.

Park Iseul that fucking liar.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your coach blowing his whistle. About time he arrived. All you wanted to do was finish with practice and go back home and sleep as you attempt to forget everything.

"Thank you to all of those who were interested in captaincy this year. With the votings of the sports faculty and a background check, we have come to a tie between Y/n and Iseul" Your coaching said as he made eye contact with the two of you.

What the fuck?

You heard a bunch of whispers around you as your coach started again, "Since Iseul is injured and will be unable to play for a few matches, Y/n is the leader. Congratulations Y/n, I'm intrigued to see what changes you'll bring to the team"

"The bully?" You heard a girl question your coach. "But, she's the reason why I'm like this. Coach you know I'm a better player" Iseul tried to argue before she was interrupted "No buts, the descision is final. You're dismissed."

You could feel Iseul throw daggers at the back of your head. "You just keep getting annoying, don't you?" She said finally managing to limp towards you. Deciding to ignore her, you started walking towards the other side until she spoke up again. "Just you wait, I'll make you life worse than how it is" She said as she smirked at you.

"No, Iseul" You spoke. You were not going to let her win, not this time. "I will prove my innocence and I will expose your lies. I don't know how, but i will bring you down, Just you wait" You said as she scoffed "Good luck with that."

TAGLIST (open!send an ask to be added COMMENTS WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED) : @fertilizedtoesw @ynsvnte @jaeyunluvr @liinori @n1k1mura @syzavxy @alex-is-sleeping @hoondiors @baevsxii @rikimylove @enhaslxt @erehkinnie30 @desistay @ifuckedheeseung @haechansbbg @sumzysworld @simjyunnie @cha0thicpisces @noobgod1269 @sol3chu @potatosoulp1h @welovechaes @firstclassjaylee @miniature-tragedy @beommii @jiyechoi @dimplewonie @feeling-woozi @jjunie-0 @butterfliesinthenightsky @iheartjayke @minthoons @dreamiestay @layla240 @heeseungismymanz @suneng @vlaeaex @vixensss @woorcve @hyunjinheartbreakprince @blujk @electrobutterfly @dismaldiary @melancholy-z (bold cannot be tagged)

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual pining, eventual NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, bloody wounds, intense drunken flirting, heart conditions, health problems, lightheadedness, fainting

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

Part 2: A Lacrosse Boyfriend

Part 3: Blue Handprints {You Are Here}

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Mr. Harris walks down the aisle of students, having just given his sentiments to Jackson Whittemore. “Everyone, start reading chapter nine.” He makes his way to the chalkboard, “Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It’s chemistry, not a coloring book.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, blowing the yellow lid from his lips and catching it easily in his hand. Instead, he turns to the phone in his pocket, sliding it out to peer at any new messages. He frowns – there were none.

Bouncing his foot on the bar stool, Stiles huffs before leaning towards the fellow lacrosse player in front of him. “Hey, Danny. Can I ask you a question?”

“No,” was his immediate reply.

“Well, I’m going to anyway. You have homeroom with (Y/N), right?”

Danny sighs, trying to read his chemistry chapter. “Yeah, what about it?”

Stiles leans closer, “Was she in class today?”

“No.”

“Has anybody been talking about what happened at the video store last night?”

“Listen, I’m sorry your little girlfriend hasn’t been texting you…”

Stiles’ stool squeaks as he fidgets, “She’s not actually my…”

“… but I’m not the one to look to next. Shouldn’t you be asking Scott?”

“What do you mean girlfriend?”

Danny grips the sides of his textbook with his fingertips, “Just some things I’ve heard on the lacrosse field when she’s there.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles was leaning so far forward that he suddenly found himself falling to the tile floor.

“To the principal’s office, Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris says in a loud, firm voice. “Don’t forget your highlighter. You can finish coloring the rest of the textbook in detention.”

Stiles wasn’t in the mood for a fight, and besides Mr. Harris didn’t give him a detention slip. This meant that he could sneak out and spend the remaining minutes of the period goofing off.

Or trying to contact one of his friends.

He dials Scott’s number as he leaves class and makes for the parking lot, “Scott! Finally, have you been getting any of my texts?”

“Yeah, like all nine million of them.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Stiles steps into the sunshine and shades his eyes with a hand. “Lydia’s totally MIA. Jackson looks like he’s got a time bomb inserted into his face, another random guy’s dead. And (Y/N) was mauled last night and had to go to the hospital. You have to do something about it!”

Scott was mumbling, “Like what?”

“Something!” Stiles jogs towards his car, hoping to escape any patrolling school staff.

“Okay, I’ll deal with it later.”

Stiles shoves his phone in his pocket as the line went dead. If Scott wasn’t going to help him, then the next best thing was to visit you. While you also weren’t answering his texts, he figures the reason is because of your parents.

After some rest, maybe you are stable enough to answer some questions.

He’s able to sneak his jeep out of the parking lot without any witnesses. The drive to your house is becoming more routine, and he finds it easily. Without even thinking about it, he went to the front door.

It opens to reveal Angela Westbrook. “Oh!” she says with wide eyes, “Stiles Stilinski?”

“Yeah,” he says awkwardly, pointing finger guns at her, “Front desk Westbrook.”

“You haven’t gotten in any trouble have you? You’re supposed to be at school.”

Stiles furrows his brow, “What? No. I’m… I’m here to see (Y/N).”

Angela looks curious, “(Y/N)? I hadn’t realized you two were friends.”

“I was at the video store with her last night.” Stiles tries not to take offense.

“You saw what happened?” she asks, instantly frantic.

Stiles waves his hands around, “No! No, she called me, and I went to help with my dad.”

“She called you first?” It was Angela’s turn to try not to take offense.

“Yeah, my dad pulled me away before you guys showed up.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “So… I can see her?”

Angela puts a smile on her face, “Of course. But not for too long. She still needs her rest.”

He nods, walking inside for the first time. He took note of the piano in the living room, the family pictures on the mantelpiece, and the sound of a little jingle bell. It was coming from the collar of a large gray cat following them up the stairs.

“You have a cat?”

Angela gave a breathy laugh, “He’s (Y/N)’s. She needed a… well, a friend while being homeschooled, I guess.”

Stiles bangs his shoulder into the wall trying to watch the cat follow them. Angela knocks on your door, “(Y/N), sweetie – there’s a Stiles here to see you.”

You were sitting in bed, reading a book and warming your feet underneath a blanket. “Hey, Stiles!”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Angela says with a smile, clasping her hands together. “Just… no funny business.”

“Mom…” you say quietly. “Just leave the door open.”

Once your mom leaves, the cat jumps onto the bed and puts his front paws on your thigh, raising himself to get a pet on the head. He was large with fluffy gray fur and big blue eyes.

Stiles walks over, playing with his fingers. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you sigh, scratching the cat behind the ears, “I’ve been a little on edge.”

He observes your face with his investigative eyes. Your skin was dull, a blue tinge beneath your eyes, even your lips look a little off color. He lingers on that last detail longer than he should.

“How was the hospital?”

“The usual,” you run your fingers down the cats back and up the tail. “Any more stress and I’ll get more bodily damage. I’ll be bed bound… blah, blah, blah.”

Stiles swallows hard, “I think that blah sounds pretty important.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard my whole life,” you wave him off. “How are Lydia and Jackson?”

“Lydia is home and Jackson came to school, although I’m pretty sure he needs to be put in a coma to sleep off his pent up feelings.”

You smile grimly, “Understandable.”

Stiles scratches his shaved head, unsure of how to ask about the video store but knowing he’d have to be careful. He chooses to sit on the bed across from you, crossing his legs and licking his lips. “So… uh – what’s his name?” he points to the cat.

“Oliver,” you smile, “Sometimes I call him Ollie.” The cat was purring against your hand, whiskers perked. “I’ve had him for a couple years. He’s my best friend.”

“That’s what your mom was saying,” he says, watching the cat keep his fluffy tail in the air. Blue eyes found him sitting on the mattress.

You grimace, “Sorry about that. My mom can be…”

“She’s great,” he says quickly. “I thought you slept a little last night.”

“I did,” you say, “Thanks to you.”

The back of his neck suddenly feels hot, “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“The thing every girl wants to hear,” you smile. “Like I said, the hospital wasn’t happy with me.”

“(Y/N), I’ve been doing some research…” Stiles picks at his fingers again. “And you saying there’s something wrong with your heart; and the surgery scar you have…”

You run a delicate finger up the bridge of Ollie’s nose. He closes his eyes and pushes his head into your finger. “I knew you’d do that.”

Stiles licks his lips again, mouth dry, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“I know,” you sigh, “What did you find out?”

“I think you have some kind of tachycardia,” he looks at you with soft eyes, his eyelashes framing them. “That’s something that would make you faint and could weaken your heart if it happens too often. I’m not sure what the surgery was though… I’m assuming it was to stop your heart from getting too weak.”

The room felt heavy, but it was a comfortable heaviness, as in you weren’t afraid to talk to Stiles. “You would be right,” you nod, “I was born with a heart defect. It was an atrioventricular canal defect. It means there was a hole in the wall between my heart chambers. The hole made it so blood flow wasn’t controlled well. I had a surgery to fix it.”

“Just last summer?”

“One of them, yeah.” You smile at him like he knew you were still hiding things. “This is a deep conversation for another day, Stiles.”

“But…” he presses on, leaning forward, “If you fixed the heart defect, you shouldn’t have any heart problems now, right?”

You shrug, “Things happen.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything else today, are you?”

“You got my one personal thing of the day. You know I had a congenital heart defect and now I have ventricular tachycardia.” Scratching under Oliver’s chin, you sigh, “I’m sure you’ll do more research on that later.”

Ollie continues to purr and put Stiles in his line of sight. With soft paws, he walks across the covers and perches on Stiles’ knee.

Stiles wasn’t sure what to do, his hands shooting into the air.

“He doesn’t bite,” you laugh, “He just wants a pet.”

Oliver’s tail swishes around the covers, and Stiles lowers a hand. The cat rubs the top of his head into the palm. “He’s so soft.”

You rub your arms, “He’s a great judge of character.”

“(Y/N), the other thing I wanted to ask…” Stiles continues to pet the cat, enjoying the purring immensely. “… was about last night.” He doesn’t like the way you gulp. “What happened?”

“Well, Arnett decided not to show up,” you shrug, “Big surprise. Still hurt though.”

Stiles mutters something that sounds a lot like, “Piece of shit.”

You retell the events leading to the lights flickering on and off over the dead store manager. “Then there was this growling. Like an animal.” A waver enters your voice and goosebumps blossom on your bare arms.

Oliver senses your change of mood and returns to your side, nuzzling your knee.

“I only got a few seconds to look before…” you gesture to the bandages on your left shoulder, “It was some kind of… wolf.” Your watch lit up with a reading from your heart. The rate was rising exponentially.

“Okay,” Stiles says, scooting closer, “That’s good. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Did your dad say anything about it? Were they able to catch whatever it was?”

He sighs, “No. We haven’t found anything. They think it was just a wild animal attack.” He was itching to touch you again, hold your hand and calm you down again. He wanted to protect your heart. “You’re safe here. You have Ollie to protect you.”

That made you smile, and Stiles took great pride in that.

“Did you wish Allison a happy birthday before skipping school?”

Stiles watches your heart rate lower on your watch screen, “I didn’t know it was her birthday.”

“It was kind of a secret,” you pick up Ollie, resting your face against his head. “Lydia and I decorated her locker yesterday after school.”

Stiles smacks his forehead, “That’s where Scott is! That idiot probably took her out for her birthday. No wonder he’s been avoiding my texts.”

There was another knock on the door, “Sweetie, it’s time to change your bandages.” Your mom was there with fresh cloth and something antibiotic.

“I can do it,” Stiles says, “(Y/N) can tell me what to do.” He rolls off the bed, tripping over his ankle as he stands straight.

Angela raises her eyebrows at you, but you nod. “Okay, but if you need help please call me. I’ll just be in the kitchen.”

Stiles awkwardly took the supplies from your mom, mouthing a thank you before returning to the bed. “You’re really going to have to help me with this one.”

You grimace, “It’s not going to be pretty.” You pull an arm out of your pajama top to reveal a tank top underneath, one strap hanging off the large white bandages on your shoulder. Stiles flexes his fingers.

“I should wash my hands probably.”

“I have hand sanitizer in my nightstand,” you giggle, already starting to pick the medical tape off the edge of the bandage.

He cleans his hands, helping you remove the bandage. You hiss as he lifts it from the wound, blood weeping from the gashes. Stiles has to stifle a groan of disgust.

“God,” he mumbles, “It still looks so fresh.”

You suck in your lips, amused by his expression, “I didn’t realize you were so queasy around blood.”

“It’s not that,” he threw the old bandage in the garbage. “It’s just it’s… you. I hate seeing you with this.” He looks closer at the claw marks, taking some gauze and catching some pinkish fluid seeping out.

You fidget as he touches the red, irritated skin under the wound. “It still hurts a lot.”

“It’s still bleeding and… wet,” Stiles frowns.

“It’s called serous drainage,” you laugh at his look of shock, “It’s a normal part of the healing process. But too much can be a sign of infection.”

“It might be infected,” Stiles says immediately. “This is a lot.”

You wave him off with your other hand, “We’ll wait to see if I have a fever.”

“Just saying, it would explain why you look like a dead man walking.”

“You’re just full of compliments today, aren’t you?” But you were smiling as you say it.

~~~

A few days later Stiles was sitting in his morning English class, staring at the seat that you normally occupy. He was flipping his phone around his fingers, waiting for your next reply.

He was angry and biting the inside of his cheeks.

“It’s not his fault,” you text.

“He bailed on the date night, and you end up getting mauled. And then he bails on conferences and my dad gets hit by a car. Tell me again how he’s not a shitty friend?”

You take a minute to answer, “Those were all accidents. You can’t prove Scott being there could’ve stopped anything.”

“Yeah, it still would’ve been nice to have him be there.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t of.”

Stiles knits his brow at your message. “You’re hurt. I’m not upset about you not being at conferences. Besides with your luck that mountain lion would’ve went for you.”

“You still don’t think it was the same animal from the video store?”

“I trust you. If you say it was a wolf, then it was a wolf.”

Scott comes walking into class, sheepish in how he sits behind Stiles. Shoulders tense, Stiles sits resolutely forward, closing his phone and avoiding his best friend. Scott sighs, frustrated at more than just himself.

“Can you at least tell me if your dad’s okay? I mean, it’s just a bruise, right?” He was grasping at straws, “Some soft tissue damage?”

Stiles was running his tongue along the bite marks inside his cheeks.

“You know I feel really bad about it, right?” Folding his arms, Scott tries to explain himself, “Okay, what if I told you I’m trying to figure this whole thing out, and that I went to Derek for help?”

Stiles stops his eye twitching to grumble, “If I was talking to you, I’d say that you’re an idiot for trusting him. But obviously I’m not talking to you.”

As the bell rings, Stiles leans forward and contemplates the new development in Derek’s involvement. He stares at his phone lighting up with a new message from you, “Go easy on him.”

He grits his teeth, angry at his curiosity getting the best of him. He whips around, “I still haven’t forgiven you for not being there for (Y/N).”

“I get it,” Scott looks hopeful. “I really do.”

“Lately she’s been there for me more than you have, which is saying something considering we used be connected at the hip. I get this werewolf thing happened and then Allison and now a Derek/Alpha thing… but you don’t just abandon your friends. If anything you should be closer to them when things get hard.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Scott mutters, “I’ll stop by (Y/N)’s place and check on her, alright? I know she deserves better… and that she means a lot to you.”

Stiles sighs heavily through his nose, drumming his fingers on the back of his chair. “Okay. What did Derek say?”

Throughout the day Stiles concocted a plan to help Scott with his anger issues. He spent classes thinking about heart rates and helping Scott avoid Allison as much as possible. After spending a quick minute in Coach’s office, they met outside on the lacrosse field.

“Okay,” he pulls out a heart rate monitor, “Put this on.”

Scott grabs it, “Isn’t this for the track team?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it,” Stiles says.

“Stole it.”

Offended, Stiles set his tone, “Temporarily misappropriated. Listen, I got the idea from (Y/N). She measures her heart rate through her watch, and it sends her readings through her phone. It’s easy to connect through a health app. And you’re gonna wear that monitor for the rest of the day.”

“And it’s connected to your phone?” Scott says, putting the monitor on.

He pulls out his phone and went to the health app, “Yeah, you know your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right? When you’re playing lacrosse, when you’re with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate.” He shows Scott his screen, “See?”

There were two different heart rates being monitored on the screen. One being Scott’s and the other one being…

“Are you watching your own heart rate?” Scott asks, “Who’s that one?”

“I don’t know, doesn’t matter.” Clearly having messed up, Stiles shoves his phone in his pocket and starts riffling through his duffel bag of supplies.

Scott has a smirk on his face, “It’s (Y/N)’s heart rate, isn’t it.”

“Shut up.”

~~~

After a quick getaway from another heart rate experiment, and a few cuts and bruises for Scott, the pair of them drove to your house for an apologetic visit.

“Dude, you got to wipe all that blood off,” Stiles says, “You look like a murder victim.”

“It’ll stop in a second. I’ll heal no problem.”

“Let’s hope her parents are still at work.”

In front of your house, Scott wipes his nose, hoping you wouldn’t notice too much. The injuries were already healed, it was just the leftover blood that he needed to wash off.

It took a few minutes for anyone to answer, and Stiles checks his phone. Your heart rate is slightly elevated.

The door opens slowly, and everyone has a gasping reaction.

“Oh my god, Scott,” you say in a shallow voice, “Why are you covered in blood?”

Stiles’ mouth was gaping as Scott fumbles for words to say, “Uh, I might’ve gotten in a fight at school. Someone got a bloody nose and… I got it on me.”

If Stiles thought you looked like a dead man walking a few days ago, he didn’t realize how worse you would look today. That bluish tinge to your under eyes was deep and the purple of your lips was like looking at a corpse. Your ashy skin was speckled with sweat around your temples. You look sick… really sick.

“(Y/N)…” Stiles says, hands starting to tremble as he reaches for the door, “What…”

“Let me get you another shirt,” you say tiredly, backing away from the door. “My dad has some old Saturday t-shirts in the laundry room.”

“Are your parents here?” Scott asks, following you and Stiles inside. A quick sound check told him that they were the only ones home.

You sound as though it was hard to breathe, “They’re still at work. I convinced my mom to take her evening shift today. She’s been staying home all week because of me.”

The sight of you shuffling side to side, tank top and shorts on under a robe – the robe tie dragging on the ground – hair falling out of a wild bun… it was disheartening. What was wrong with you?

Scott could smell something. Something sickly. “I don’t need another shirt, (Y/N), really. I just wanted to check on you.”

You turn around in the hallway, ghostly in the dimly lit space. “Oh? That’s kind of you.”

“I know I’ve been kind of distant,” he continues, eyeing the worry enveloping Stiles. “And I want to change that. Life has been chaotic, but I want to make time to see you.”

“Thank you,” you smile, “But I’ve been in good hands.”

“Clearly not good enough,” Stiles says, “When was the last time you changed your bandages, (Y/N)?”

You shrug and then grimace at the movement, “Sometime yesterday.” You were swaying on your feet and Stiles took a step forward, prepared to catch you.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” he says calmly, “Let’s sit down.” He guides you to a dining chair while directing Scott to check the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. “You don’t look so good.”

“So you keep telling me, Stiles,” you smile again, “You need to work on those compliments.” You struggle to pull your arm out of the robe sleeve.

“Here, let me.”

While he pulls out your arm, apologizing for causing any discomfort, he mumbles things to distract you as he takes off the bandage. “I like your pajamas.”

White fabric with little lemons and mint leaves printed on them, along with a robe of fuzzy summer fruits. It was just so you. If only he could still smell that wonderful fruity shampoo from your hair.

“Thank you,” you groan as he removes the bandage painfully.

“Oh my god,” he chokes.

The wound underneath was red and aggravated. It was still weeping blood and whatever fluid you had mentioned before. The center of each deep claw mark had a purple-blue color, and he didn’t like how venomous it looked.

Scott appears beside you, following that sickly scent to your shoulder. It smelt worse than infection, it had a familiar tang to it. Something wolfish about it. That terrifies him. “I’m going to call Derek.”

“What?” you and Stiles say at the same time.

“I have a feeling he’ll know what to do,” he eyes Stiles, pulling out his phone, “Don’t bandage it until he looks at it.”

“Is something wrong?” you say feverishly, looking at Stiles with half-closed eyes. He chooses to focus on your face instead of your wound. But his eyes were no longer a honey brown or an amber whiskey.

They were steely like fossilized tree sap.

“I think you just need some extra strength Tylenol,” he jokes, “Or a rabies shot.”

“God, my mom is never going to let me leave the house again if I don’t stop getting sick.” You hang your head, sweat speckling the back of your neck too. Stiles gingerly puts a hand to your back and rubs up and down your spine.

“You’ll get better, I promise.”

“You’re such a liar,” you cough, “I’m not going to get better. This is what it’ll be… just worse and worse.”

Stiles didn’t like the hurt that was developing in his chest. That inflation feeling in his ribcage came full force but was threaded with hurt. It hurt to see you like this.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nonsense,” you say with sorrow, “Don’t listen to me. I’m sick.”

Scott returns with determination in his step, “Derek’s almost here.” He kneels beside your chair, a hand on your good arm. “This is my fault. If I was there for you then this…”

“It’s not your fault, Scott. It’s not a crime to not want to third wheel.”

“What do you smell?” Stiles whispers under his breath. You have a difficult time concentrating enough to hear him.

Scott mutters something back, “Nothing good.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?”

Derek comes walking into the house, “This isn’t something the hospital can fix.” His nose crinkles at your exposed arm. “She was clawed by the alpha, right?”

Stiles waves a frantic hand, shushing him while Scott mouths at him to shut up.

“You guys are idiots.” Derek looks angry, “You haven’t told her anything yet?”

“Told me what?” you lift your heavy head. “Derek?”

The boys pull Derek aside and quickly whisper a conversation.

“Did the alpha do something to her?” Scott asks worriedly. He’d feel even worse if your injury was a result of his werewolf business.

Derek folds his massive arms, “If an alpha scratches a human and it makes a deep enough cut, the werewolf change could happen.”

Stiles chokes on his breath, “You mean she could be transforming!?”

“It doesn’t have to be a bite?” Scott whisper shouts.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Stiles pulls at the ends of his shaved hair. “Why is it making her so sick.”

Derek sighs heavily, “Because her body is rejecting the change. It’s trying to fight off the spread of infection. It’s impressive really.”

“You mean she might be fine?” Scott asks, “She’ll get over it?”

“Maybe,” Derek shrugs, “It could just kill her.”

Stiles swallows thickly, “Tell us how to help her.”

“You just have to let the infection run its course. There aren’t any werewolf antibiotics out there for a wound like that. Tell her to sleep it off.”

“Sleep it off?” Stiles says incredulously. “That’s the best you got?”

“I have other pressing matters. Including a meeting with your boss, Scott.”

Scott took a pause, “What has my boss got to do with anything?”

“I’ll let you know when I finish interrogating him.” Subconsciously or not, Derek was flexing his arms in a way that made him look gigantic.

Scott wasn’t intimidated, “If you lay a hand on Deaton…”

“He’s already in the trunk,” Derek says blandly, “You interrupted my questioning before I could finish.”

“Oh my god,” Scott mumbles, chest tight with oncoming rage.

Stiles was flailing his arms around like they were limp noodles. “Hello! Did we forget the sick-because-of-alpha-claws girl right behind us. Let’s handle one problem at a time.”

Derek was already out the door, “(Y/N)’s fate isn’t my problem. And Deaton isn’t your concern.”

“It is considering he’s my boss!” Scott follows him outside.

“Alright, Scott, you want answers?” Derek spins around on the lawn, “Those spirals you’ve been asking about… it’s our sign for a vendetta. It’s revenge. It means he won’t stop killing until he’s satisfied!”

Scott gawks at him, “You think Deaton’s the alpha!?”

“We’re about to find out.”

“No! Derek, listen. There’s another way to draw out the alpha. I’m connected to him remember?” Scott sounds desperate and on the verge of growing claws. Stiles stands on the porch, anxious to keep you from hearing any of this. “I can try to get him to reveal himself.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Derek has a steely blue tinge in his eyes, almost as if they were glowing.

Scott looks around him, jerky in his head movements as he tries to create a plan, “Just give me an hour and then meet us at the school. I’ll call to the alpha and we’ll see if there’s a response.”

Derek, rippling with rage, seems to consider. In the next second he growls under his breath and goes to his car. Scott took that as he was in agreement with the new plan.

He turns around to see Stiles giving him a death glare, hands stuck under his armpits as if he’s stopping them from throwing punches.

“Are you forgetting about our teensy-weensy other problem, Scott? Maybe our other friend currently dying inside?”

“She’s not dying,” Scott says as he stomps toward the house again.

Stiles shoves his shoulder as he walks past, “I don’t feel right leaving (Y/N) here while we go tango with the alpha at the school.”

“We could call her mom,” Scott suggests, making his way back to the dining table.

“She’ll hate that,” Stiles mumbles, meeting him at your chair. He kneels beside you again, careful as you were dozing off. Leaning against the table, your chin rests in your hand – your mouth slightly open as you take small breaths.

Scott shrugs his shoulders, “Well, then who do we call? All our other friends are occupied with themselves.” It suddenly dawned on him that he was supposed to meet Allison for a study date. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Finally realized that did you?” Stiles says sarcastically, “Who else do we trust?”

“Someone from the lacrosse team?” Scott says with a wince, “She’s gotten close with a couple of the guys there.”

A flicker of red hot flame licks up Stiles’ side. “Sure, yeah – one of the potential lacrosse boyfriends.”

“Oh please, we could call Danny,” Scott waves him off. “Although Andrew Wickstrom would probably be more willing.”

Good guy Andrew Wickstrom? Stiles did not like that idea. Not because he was just another blockhead lacrosse guy… but because he was genuinely a nice guy. And the possibility of you falling for him was very high.

“He’s better than leaving her here alone,” Scott says, going through his phone. “At least until her parents get off work.”

Stiles curses him, but he agrees. He rests one of his hands on your good shoulder, “(Y/N), hey…”

You stir in your daze, “Where’s Derek?”

“He left, don’t worry,” was his reply. Licking his lips he starts to prepare fresh bandages for your shoulder. “Listen, Andrew is going to come look after you until your mom gets home.”

“Who?”

“Andrew Wickstrom? From the team,” Stiles says, trying to keep the disdain from his voice. “Scott and I need to handle something at the school. And you need to stay here and get some rest.”

He applies pressure on your shoulder with disinfected gauze and you gasp with pain.

“You just have a 24-hour bug,” he continues to distract you. “And in the morning you’ll be right as rain, I promise.”

“Again you’re such a liar,” you smile painfully.

He loves your humor. “I’ll come check on you when we’re done. Just don’t go falling in love with this guy, alright?”

You laugh, “No promises.”

~~~

You were cuddled on the couch, pulling up your favorite forest green blanket to your chin. You try to fix your hair bun, but it was still falling out in wavy strands. The television was set low, a true crime miniseries on.

Andrew returns to the living room, a gatorade in an iced glass with a straw. He went back to his spot on the ground, propped against the couch arm and near your head.

“Did I miss anything?” he lifts the glass over his shoulder and directs the straw between your lips.

You take a few sips, humming your thanks. “I think the husband did it.”

“But there was all that text evidence showing how the wife verbally abused him. I think he’s a scaredy cat.”

“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have lashed out and killed her.”

He grins, “You’re way into these true crime cases.”

“They’re interesting,” you snuggle further into the blanket, “And I like to see the medical side of things.”

“Can I check your fever?” he gropes under the pile of supplies Stiles had left them and found a thermometer. He brushes your wispy fly-aways into your bun and put the thermometer to your forehead. After it beeps he looks at it, “102.3, that’s a little high.”

“We don’t need the hospital until it’s 105.”

He got comfortable again, crossing his arms. “It’s weird. I hadn’t imagined the first time we hang out was going to involve playing nurse.”

“I appreciate it, really,” you say tiredly. “It’s nice of you to spend your night here. I’m pretty sure my parents would pay you like a babysitter too.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, dimples showing. “I don’t mind. I like this, spending time with you. Even if you are super sick.”

You giggle but end it in a cough. “You know I was kind of hoping you’d come talk to me at lacrosse practice.”

Andrew turns so he’s facing you cross legged on the ground, “No way.”

“A perk of TAing for Coach is that I get to watch all you handsome lacrosse players play,” you wink, “I might’ve had my eye on you a couple of times.”

“I’m flattered,” he grins back, “You were always surrounded by a crowd, and I wasn’t sure you wanted another guy forcing his way in.”

You prop your head up a little, “You wouldn’t have needed to force yourself in. I would’ve just welcomed you.”

He bows his head, brown curls hanging in coils. “I wish I would’ve figured that out sooner. Maybe our first night together would’ve had you feeling better.”

“No, this is better,” you smile, “This is more memorable.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I asked to see you again…” he rubs his hands awkwardly on his knees, “… outside of school.”

“Please!” you say, “I’m so sick of being stuck at my house. Any plans I can look forward to is a blessing.”

He fixes the edge of your blanket, pulling it up a few inches. “Then I’ll think of something really fun.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” he plays with his hair. It’s cute. “Maybe something with a bookstore.”

Your sunken eyes widen a bit. “How did you know I like to read?”

“It might’ve been the book you always have with you at school,” he laughs, “Or the time Coach yelled at you because you were reading in the bleachers instead of grabbing more helmets.”

“Well, if you’re buying then I won’t say no to a bookstore.”

Andrew grins, a beautiful smile with his curly hair and warm, green eyes. “It’s a date.”

~~~

“It’s a what?!” Stiles was whispering as loudly as he could.

You were sitting up in bed, limp and frail but with a little more life in your cheeks. “I think he asked me out on a date.”

Scott shut the window behind him, “That’s great, (Y/N).” You miss the pitying look he sent Stiles’ way.

“What did you say?” Stiles asks, sitting on the bed next to you.

You shrug, “I kind of just smiled and we kept watching the true crime.”

“Oh god,” Stiles grumbles, “You’re going to fall in love with him.” He watches a blush rise in your cheeks, “No… no – there’s no falling in love right now. You’re just getting over a fever.” He starts to fan your cheeks, making you laugh.

Scott pulls your desk chair over, “But you do feel better?”

“Completely – Andrew cured me!”

“It was that gatorade I left.”

You try to hide a smile, “Or it could’ve been the goodbye kiss.” Stiles jumps on the mattress, slamming the headboard into the wall. You smack his arm, “God, Stiles I was kidding. My fever just broke.”

“How did your parents take it?” Scott asks. He seems a little put out in comparison to earlier that day.

“My mom was really grateful.” You flicker your eyes between the pair of them. “So are you going to tell me what was going on with Derek visiting to check on my wound?”

“Oh, you know…” Scott says instantly. Stiles was flapping his gums like a fish out of water. “He’s seen animal attacks considering… his sister… was killed that way. He just said to sleep it off.”

You lean against the headboard, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Stiles. “Well, he was right.” The jumpiness in Scott’s fidgeting made you suspect some lying. It irks you to know that there were still secrets they were keeping from you. “Hey, I thought you and Allison had a study date. What business did you have at the school?”

“Um…” Scott was picking at his fingernails, “That’s where I decided to surprise Allison with our studying.”

Your brow knits, “But the school is closed and locked at night.”

Stiles has his hands running over his head, “Scott, the others are going to tell her what happened.”

“Meaning?” you nudge Stiles with your shoulder.

Scott was full of conflict, whipping his eyes between different spots in the room. “Derek told us of a hunch that led us to the school. He spotted that monster wolf you saw at the video store. Allison got a strange text that might’ve come from Derek too.” He looks to you with slight panic, “It told her to meet me at the school. She was with Lydia and Jackson, so they came too.”

“I crashed my car and everything trying to get away,” Stiles says, trying to cover all their assets.

“I missed quite the party,” you whisper, searching for tells of his lying in the words.

“We were chased and attacked. A janitor died. We weren’t sure if it was the wolf monster or Derek.”

You lean away from Stiles and he darts his head to you, “I thought Derek was innocent of everything.” An ache was in the pit of your stomach, it made you feel empty and distrustful. It was plain how much they were hiding from you.

Of course you were also being a hypocrite because you hadn’t told them everything either.

“There might be more evidence,” Scott tries to continue.

“Like what?” you fold your arms, “You have any proof?”

Stiles was piecing together you shrinking away from them, “Enough that we called my dad in on it.”

“You know, I’m tired,” you say, “I think you guys should go.”

The boys share a look, and you miss the worry enveloping Stiles’ face. He pulls his wide shoulders inward to avoid touching you.

“Sure,” Stiles says, “You’ve had a long day.”

“We’re glad you’re better,” Scott adds, standing to open the window again. “Hopefully you’re well enough for school on Monday.” He slides himself outside while Stiles stops at the sill.

He licks his lips, a habit of his especially when he’s thinking. “Hey, listen, I’m going to try to fix my jeep this weekend. If you’re free maybe we could do it together.” He wipes his hands along his pants, fidgety in how he was looking at the floor, then at you, then at the floor again. “It’s no problem if not.”

You nod but avoid looking at him as he slips out. You sit there with your peachy lamp on, upset and confused. You like Scott and Stiles. They were some of the first friends you made when you started public school. Stiles had been so attentive and gently nudged you to be more open.

But the achy feeling of emptiness in your stomach was becoming more prevalent. It had been an on and off feeling since getting to know the boys. Stiles had been swooping in to calm your nerves with small nuggets of truth.

A few more lies and you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore.

A couple of days later and fully recovered from your infectious fever, you eat lunch on Saturday afternoon. Your dad slides a BLT your way and sits down with his own.

He nibbles on a piece of bacon, “Any plans for your post sickness weekend?”

“Catch up on the homework Allison brought me,” you take a sip of soda, “And try not to kill Scott for hurting her.”

“Are they okay?” Tom asks.

You shake your head, “She broke up with him. He snapped at her when she was scared. Kind of a dick move.”

“Language.”

“Sorry,” you grimace, wiping the tired from your eyes. “I’m mad at him too.”

“What a dick,” he says, winking at you.

It makes you smile, “I know he means well. I think he’s just being a stupid teenage boy.”

“Having been a stupid teenage boy myself I can vouch for him.” He eats the larger pile of bacon on his plate, “What about that other boy that visited the other day?”

“Stiles?” you sigh, “I’m upset with him too. I think they’re hiding something from me.”

Both you and your dad say at the same time, “Stupid teenage boys.”

“But that Andrew is nice,” your mom enters the kitchen, gardening gloves in hand. “I like him.”

“You like that he was taking care of me,” you roll your eyes. “You know Scott and Stiles were here doing that same thing earlier that day.”

Angela went for the shoes she wore in the garden by the back door, “Do they know about your heart?”

“I told Stiles some things and he’s told our other friends,” you shrug, “Just about the heart defect and my tachycardia.”

Your parents nod – your dad finishing his lunch much faster than you, “That’s better than nothing. I feel better knowing you’re out with kids that can help you if you feel faint.”

Your mom leaves for the backyard and your dad goes to get you another can of soda.

“Maybe I’ll stop by Stiles’ place today.”

“The Sheriff’s house?” Tom says, “You must not be that upset with him.”

You stand, your heart stuttering, “Eh… I’ll let you know if I need a getaway driver.”

The walk to Stiles’ house was long but nice with the California sun out. Your skin soaks up the warmth, unstiffening your bones from the sickbed. The birds twitter past and trees shimmer their leaves above you.

If your mom knew you were walking such a long way, she would have given you house arrest. But you monitor your heart rate through your watch the whole way.

The house was a little shabby but homely. It screams ‘bachelor pad’ in more ways than one. The grass was trimmed, but the flowerbeds neglected. The BBQ was greasy with use and left out in the open. The house was tidy but nowhere near clean. The old décor was most likely remnant of Mrs. Stilinski, and the boys don’t dare change it.

Stiles was running out of the door, tripping down the steps when he saw you. “(Y/N)! You came.”

You nod, hands in your jean pockets, “I wanted to see the damage.”

The jeep was in the driveway, towed there the night of the school attack. The hood was laying on the concrete and completely smashed in.

Stiles jogs up to you and looks about ready to give you a hug, but you keep your arms down as a signal. He scratches at the back of his head instead.

“I just picked up a new hood from the junkyard. And my dad helped me buy a new battery.”

“What happened to the old one again?” you look inside the engine and see more duct tape than rubber tubes. “Do you usually fix this guy up yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles had a funny look on his face, hands on his hips, “It’s cheaper that way. When I hit the school sign it crushed the battery box. It needed to be fully replaced.”

You give him a side eye, “You hit the school sign?”

“I was in a hurry to escape, okay,” he says exasperated, throwing his arms down limp at his sides. He was always lanky and fidgety. “I have spray paint in the garage for the new hood.” He looks at you with a hesitant gaze, “Do you want to help?”

You fold your arms, trying to hide a smile. “Do you have a tarp for the paint?”

“Why would I need a tarp?”

A small laugh escapes you, “Your dad will thank me later. Come on.”

The pair of you lay an old blue tarp down and set the junkyard hood on it. You convince Stiles to sand the metal and prime it before the paint. Thankfully the jungle that was the garage held nearly all the equipment you needed.

“I think it’s funny you have the exact shade of blue you need for your jeep,” you say, shaking your head. “Makes me think you need to touch it up more often than not.”

“If you’re making some kind of assumption about my driving skills, you’re wrong. I happen to be an excellent driver.”

You shake the spray paint can, ready for last touchups, “Anyone is an excellent driver when they’re the only driver in the friend group.”

“Excuse me?” he says with mock offense, screwing his face up comically.

“You’re not exactly comparing your skills to Scott and me since we don’t have cars,” and in a moment of weakness you point the can towards Stiles.

“Hey, woah!” he held up his hands, getting a blast of blue paint on his palms and fingers. “Mayday! Mayday! Paint in mouth!”

You start laughing, shaking the can some more as Stiles spits at the grass. His hands and forearms were coated in shiny, dripping paint.

“Now you’re in for it.”

He ran at you, hands outstretched. You didn’t fight it much as you squeal at the cold wet paint. He hugs you from behind and starts rubbing his hands all down your sides and front, coating your arms and shirt.

He was careful to avoid your chest. “There, now we’re both a masterpiece.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, out of breath from your giggles. You raise a coated finger to his rosy cheek and write your initials, “There. An artist always signs their work.”

He blows out a choking breath, shivers prickling the back of his neck. He has to clear his throat before doing the same to you, raising a long finger to your cheek. A double ‘s’ is painted along your cheekbone, beneath your sparkling eyes.

“Should we put the battery in while the paint dries?” you were closer than you thought, just inches between you. You could have sworn Stiles flickers his eyes down to your lips, no doubt smeared with paint.

“S-Sure,” he stutters, wiping at his nose, “It’s right over here.”

You help lift the heavy black box and slide it into the car. You giggle at the blue handprints all over the battery sides.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get a wet rag.”

“No!” Stiles grabs your arm, “I like it. Let’s let it dry. Our signature touch.”

You look at your handprint on the top and Stiles’ on the side below yours. “Whatever you want, Stilinski. This is your jeep.”

“Damn right,” he mumbles, connecting wires, “This baby needs to last me through college.”

The duct tape didn’t look very promising, but you had to admire his persistence. “I’ll get the topcoat ready then.”

It took another hour to get the hood ready for screwing in. You help with holding tools and holding pieces in place. Stiles makes sarcastic remarks and tries not to swear when he pinches a finger. You laugh at his jokes and ignore the unevenness of your heart rate.

When the hood was in place and the spray paint on your skin dry and cracking, the pair of you walk inside for some lemonade.

Stiles keeps staring at his initials on your cheek. “Thank you for helping me. It wouldn’t have turned out half as good without you.”

“It was fun,” you nod, a hand to your chest. A pain was flaring there. You try to breathe past the tightness, “I think I need… I need a second.” Your watch beeps the exact same time as Stiles’ phone.

You share a confused glance with the boy as he blabs, “I can explain!”

“One second,” you say, leaning forward and closing your eyes. You nearly collapse in a dining chair, and a moment later you feel large hands on your knees, squeezing gently.

“Try to ground yourself,” he whispers to you, “Remember… what do you hear?”

It takes you longer to answer, holding your chest like it’ll keep your heart there. “The refrigerator running. Birds outside. And your heavy breathing.” You crack a smile despite the frantic fluttering in your chest.

Stiles scoffs, “And what do you feel?”

“My heartbeat,” you put your free hand on top of Stiles’, curling your fingers around his. “Your hand. And the cracking spray paint.” It was getting easier to breathe.

Stiles was rubbing his thumb along the inside of your knee. His own chest was inflating again, that powerful warmth that only happened when he was near you. His throat bobs as heat floods his cheeks – thankfully he was covered in spray paint.

He checks your watch screen as your heart rate went down, “That’s it.”

“Thanks,” you say, letting go of his fingers. He pulls his hands away quickly after that. “I think I should head home and shower. All this paint is making my skin itch now.”

He laughs awkwardly, standing, “Well, uh… you could always, you know… shower here.” His eyes widen and he starts to ramble on further as if to stop you from saying no, “I mean, I have extra clothes and I was planning on taking Scott out tonight to get his mind off the breakup. You could stay and we could all go together?”

You let the silence go on just for your own amusement. He was practically shaking waiting for your answer. “Sure, that’d be great.”

“Yay… I mean, yeah sure – cool cool.” He gestures to the stairs and leads the way, “There’s everything you need in the bathroom. I’ll just… jeans probably won’t fit, and I don’t believe in shorts…”

“Sweatpants are fine,” you say, enjoying every second of his rambling.

“Right, good,” he was pinching the ends of his shaved hair. You wonder if he was one to run his fingers through his hair when it was long. “I assume you don’t need boxers…” he chokes on his laugh, probably thinking about you in that very item of clothing. “But I’ll get you a shirt and a towel. Wait right here.”

You spy into the hallway bathroom and giggle at the few items of clothing strewn about the floor. A toothbrush was thrown onto the counter and leaving white, foamy scum on the counter. A deodorant stick was open and toppled over. A 2-in-1 shampoo was leaking in the shower. Overall, about as much as you expected.

“Oh god,” Stiles yells, spotting the same things you were, “I’m so sorry. It’s such a mess in here.” He starts to bang against the walls, picking up clothes and fallen toiletries along the way. “Clearly I wasn’t expecting company.” He steps on a sleeve and trips to the floor in a colossal crash.

You stifle a laugh as you bend to help him up, “So you really didn’t expect me to show up, huh?”

His cheeks were a blotchy red, a terrible sinking pit in his stomach. “It’s a wonder you haven’t run out of here the first chance you got.” His arms were full of clothes and a sneaker and a couple stiff washcloths that you didn’t want to think about.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” you smile at his red face – the picture of embarrassment. He was so endearing in the sweetest way. The spray paint was starting to chip from his skin and flake onto the clothes he was holding. “I like you this way.”

Stiles figures he better leave before he does anything else stupid. “I’m going to use… my d-dad’s bathroom downstairs.” He fumbles the sneaker but catches it by the laces. “I’ll be super quick, so you have all the hot water.”

You nod, closing the door on his bright blotchy face. You step into the shower, not planning to use up the hot water either, and investigate any other hygiene products. The 2-in-1 must have been used as a body wash and face wash as well because there was nothing else to be seen. Shaking your head you use the bottle to clean all the spray paint off your body.

You had to scrub your skin raw, but the blue finally came off. You were quick to realize that the woods smell that Stiles usually had came from this shampoo. It was mixed with the strong scent of tea tree oil. At least the Sheriff knew a thing or two about antibacterial soap and how much a lacrosse player needed it.

The mirror wasn’t even fogged up with steam when you step out. You found the pile of clothes Stiles brought before he fumbled with cleaning.

Some dark sweatpants and a gray t-shirt with a star wars logo on the front. He even threw in a green and blue flannel to keep your arms warm when they went to get Scott.

You thread your fingers through your wet hair, carrying your ruined day clothes over your shoulder. Down the stairs you find Stiles making sandwiches in the kitchen. His shirt was a little damp from the shower, and he had goosebumps running up his arms.

“You look cold,” you say, sauntering in and catching the sweatpants before they fell a few inches. You tie the strings to make them tighter around your waist and find Stiles staring at you slack jawed.

“Um… uh – yeah. Sure, maybe a little.” He shrugs repeatedly as if that would calm the tension he was feeling.

You lean against the counter, watching him avoid your gaze, “Did you take a cold shower?”

“What – I like them!”

“No one likes them,” you scoff, “There was enough time for us both to shower fine.”

He stuck out his bottom lip, tilting his head to a shoulder, “I just wanted to make sure you had enough hot water.” Before you could make any other retort, he says in a louder voice, “I figured we could eat something and then pick up Scott.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, watching him work. It seems he wanted to busy himself, so he didn’t get caught staring at you again.

“Have you talked with Andrew at all since him babysitting you?”

You wince at the word ‘babysit.’ “We’ve been texting a little bit. I’m waiting for him to tell me when our date will be.”

“So he did ask you out.” Stiles cut his tomato with a little more force than was necessary.

“I guess, maybe,” you smile, feeling a little rosy in the cheeks.

Stiles sees the sudden flush and he flexes his jaw. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I mean – Andrew is actually a good guy compared to most of the boys at school.”

“Ah – shit!” Stiles drops his knife and holds his index finger.

You round the counter, “Are you okay?”

He waves you off, going for a band aid in a cupboard, “It’s fine, blood is red, tomatoes are red… no harm done.”

You laugh, snatching the band aid from him, “Let me see that.” You peel back the plastic and pull his hand towards your face.

He’s obviously upset about something, but that didn’t stop the red splotches from reappearing on his face. His long fingers were shaking slightly – from Adderall or his usual fidgets, you weren’t sure – but he was standing still as you gently apply the bandage.

You’re soft as you wrap the adhesive sides and push down to keep it stuck to the tip of his finger. “There,” you lean down and place a little kiss on the bandage, “All better.”

Stiles huffs an awkward laugh, almost shaken by your make-it-better kiss. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says testily, making the sandwiches a little more roughly than before.

You squint your eyes, upset that he was holding back. “Are you going to give me a ‘you-shouldn’t-date-him’ speech like you did with Josh Arnett?”

Stiles takes a deep breath through his nose, and it seems to calm him enough to say in an even tone, “Like you said, Andrew is a good guy. He’d be lucky to date you.”

The sincerity in his voice put a little hitch in your chest, and you had to remember that he had access to your heartbeat.

“Moving on,” you say quickly, “Are you going to tell me how you got ahold of my heart monitor?”

Stiles plates the sandwiches and goes for a couple bags of chips in the pantry. He was stuttering the whole way and came back a little pink. “After the video store and I… stayed the night. I – couldn’t sleep. After a couple hours and me trying to read your latest Harry Potter book…”

“You can’t start reading the series on the sixth one, dummy.”

He waves you off, presenting you with dinner. “You turned over in your sleep… and your hand was – was resting on my arm; the hand that had your watch.” He takes a big bite of his sandwich and rushes through the rest, “It turned on when your heart rate went up a little bit in your sleep and I thought… it would m-make sense to share that monitor with other people so they can take care of you in an emergency.”

You quietly eat your meal as you listen, a warmth in your stomach at feeling looked after and cared about. Stiles took it upon himself to help you and strangely… you didn’t mind it like you did when it came to your parents.

“Your watch doesn’t have a password on it so…”

“My parents thought it’d be easier if someone needed to access my heart monitor app if I fainted.”

He nods, “So I opened it while you were asleep and connected my phone to the app.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” you say softly, watching him with that warmth you were feeling. It was comforting and you realize how comfortable you felt around Stiles – especially when talking about something so personal to you.

“I was afraid you’d be all stoic and say you’re fine,” he smirks at you, “And that you can take care of yourself.”

You shake your head and huff a laugh, “Smart man.”

The two of you share a few more laughs before Stiles goes on to apologize again, “I’m sorry this isn’t the greatest meal. I’m no chef (Y/N).” He waves his hands around as he says it, “But…”

“It’s good,” you say, smiling. “I don’t like to cook all the time.”

You get off topic as you continue to eat. You discuss your science project and the upcoming chemistry test on Monday. Stiles tells you the made up story about what happened at the school. You ask more questions about Derek. Sherrif Stilinski had contacted state police to handle a possible serial killer. School had been closed Thursday and Friday to deal with the damages, so you hadn’t missed classes while being sick.

The sun starts to set as Stiles cleans your plates. “There is one more thing about tonight that I forgot to mention.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans in, “What do girls usually do during breakups?”

“Well, Allison, Lydia, and I had a night of crying as we watched The Notebook and Titanic. We ordered takeout and ranted about every stupid thing a boy has ever done to us. We ate chocolate and contemplated possibly being alone forever. And then we passed out after doing our hair and giving each other facials.”

Stiles was not expecting that, “You did all of that in one night?”

“Hence why we passed out at three in the morning.”

He shakes his head, “Well for Scott… we’re going to get him drunk.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Excuse me?”

“We’re going to get drunk and make sure he has a good time.”

“Cause no one has ever been considered a sad drunk before.”

He gives you a deadpan stare. It makes you giggle – he was so open with his facial expressions.

“I just want to take his mind off of it.”

You consider him, “Where are we going to get alcohol?”

Stiles holds up a finger and goes to rummage in a side cabinet near the dining table. He returns with a full bottle of Jack Daniels. You smile to see the comparison you had made multiple times. Stiles’ eyes were sometimes like sunshine through whiskey.

He took your smile as a good sign, “You up for it?”

~~~

You and Stiles were leading the way past the park entrance and onto a cliff face with Scott trailing behind. The moon was out and very nearly full, shining a perfect light around the outcrop.

The ground was uneven and layered with rock, sparse pine trees growing between the cracks. There was a bonfire barrel just ahead that Stiles went to light.

“Where are we going?” Scott grumbles.

He was looking a little worse for wear. After your night of girl talk and general anguish, Allison seemed to be faring better. It was strange to see how each party handled the breakup.

“Cause we really shouldn’t be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school.”

Stiles sighs, “Well, your mom isn’t the sheriff, okay? There’s no comparison, trust me.”

“It’ll be fine, Scott,” you say, “It’s been quiet since Wednesday.”

Your friend was over it. “Can you at least just tell me what we’re doing out here?”

“Yes. When your best friend gets dumped…”

“I didn’t get dumped,” Scott butts in, “We’re taking a break.” He looks to you as if asking you to prove it.

You shrug, breathing in the cold air and swinging your arms in the too-long sleeves of Stiles’ flannel. “She’s pretty decided.” It was Scott’s fault after all that Allison made the decision. “She’s already given you a second chance.”

“Not helping!” Stiles snaps, “When your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they’re taking a break…” Stiles stops walking next to the bonfire barrel, moon shining right above his head. “You get your best friend drunk.”

He holds up the bottle of amber, proud of himself for taking it from his father’s stash.

Scott sighs but doesn’t fight it. He was more interested in talking to you about the situation, which tells you how he really wants to handle the breakup. While Stiles works on lighting a fire in the barrel, you sit on a rock and pat the spot next to you for Scott.

He slumps down as if his body is heavier than usual. “Thank you for being here.”

You lean into him a little. It was cold and his body was warm. “I’ll always be here for my friends.”

“I mean, especially since you’re one of Allison’s best friends too.” His voice lowers when he says her name, like it was painful.

“Of course, I’m not picking sides, Scott. I have my girls… and I have my boys.” You wrap an arm around his shoulders and squeeze him to you. Your head lays on his shoulder, and you could almost feel the hurt he was feeling. It wasn’t as teary as Allison’s, but it was still very plain to see.

He takes a deep breath and stares out past the cliff at the rest of the forest below. It was almost like the moon was putting him in an even worse mood.

“Has she…”

“No,” you cut him off. “We had our night talking about it and she hasn’t brought it up since. But it’s only been a few days and you know Lydia is trying to swear her off of boys for a while.”

Scott nods, sinking into you a little more. “What do you think about it?”

You rub his shoulders a little, “I think what you did was done out of fear and anger, but it was still very stupid.” You feel him swallow thickly, “You shouldn’t have taken it out on her.”

He hangs his head, moving his hands up to hold his face. “I know.”

“If I’m being completely honest though… it’s going to be hard for her to get over you.” You lean closer to talk quietly as Stiles whoops at his roaring fire from behind. “Just give it some time to settle and try to apologize again. Try to give her more of a reason why you acted that way and she’ll understand. She’s very understanding if you don’t hold the truth from her.”

Scott turns his head sideways in one hand and looks at you with glassy eyes. You could tell he wasn’t going to cry, but he was heartened to hear your words.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

You nudge him around a little, “Anytime.”

Stiles jumps off another large rock and lands with the bottle in his hands, already taking a swig, “Let’s party!”

Scott grumbles again but takes a couple gulps of the bottle before handing it to you. As you raise the rim to your lips, Stiles starts shouting.

“Hey, hey! You’re not supposed to be drinking that.”

You take a big swallow, the burning liquid stinging your throat as it goes down to warm your churning belly. “Because why?”

“Because alcohol can increase arrhythmias,” he says matter-of-factly, “I read that in my… research.”

You shrug, taking another gulp, blowing out a breath as if it were on fire. “Hasn’t stopped me before.” You mock the boys’ shocked silence with a muttered, “You’re not the only one that has stolen a drink from your parents liquor cabinet.”

Stiles still looks worried as you hand the bottle back, “Make sure you check your watch.”

“You have that on your phone now,” you stretch back, leaning on your hands, “You can worry about it.”

Scott gave half a smile, “You found out about that?”

“He hadn’t exactly hidden it well,” you giggle, already rosy from the alcohol.

You and Stiles continue to share the bottle, laughing at each other as you tell Scott about your day. You mock the state of the blue jeep while Stiles makes fun of your little crush on Andrew Wickstrom. You whisper (basically shout) about the old washcloths found in the bathroom while Stiles splutters his next swig all over the ground. And you finally laugh about how any of you were to take chemistry tests seriously when the school has been in disarray.

Scott stops drinking after his few sips and continues to stare off into the distance, hurting as he watches you and Stiles fall over each other on the ground. Stiles slams the bottle down with a tink of the glass and you shush him.

“You’ll break it,” you slur, words feeling funny in your mouth. You fall back and hit your head on the rock Scott was sitting on still. “Ow!”

Stiles rolls over from where he was laying and cups your head, pulling it from the rock, “Oh no…” he sounds just as drunk, “Did you get an owie?”

You rub at the slight egg forming on the back of your head, “The rock decided to punch me.”

“I’m sorry,” and he kisses your hairline, “There, all better.”

You laugh like that was the funniest thing in the world, “You gave me a make-it-better kiss!”

“I learned from the best,” he let your head go and you both fell onto your backs, laughing.

Scott closes his eyes and takes a shallow breath, tense from his friends having a flirty experience without them realizing it. He ignores as Stiles lifts his bandaged index finger and declares how “(Y/N)’s make-it-better kisses could cure cancer.”

You look up, laughing at that, and notice Scott folding his arms to keep the cold away. “Oh no…” you lean to whisper (again – basically shout) at Stiles, “He’s thinking about her again.”

“Dude, you know she’s just one… one girl. You know, there are so many… there are so many other girls in the sea.”

“Fish in the sea,” Scott corrects.

You gasp, “I should make a shrimp scampi.”

“Shrimp are not fish,” Stiles giggles, “Why are we talking about fish? I’m talking about girls.” His voice gets quieter, “I love girls. I love them.” He stares off at the moonlit sky while you try to contain your laughter, cheeks blooming red.

You tap out, refusing more drink but still overly drunk. Instead you wrap a hand around Scott’s ankle as if that was still giving him silent support.

“I love…” Stiles continues to ramble, “Especially ones that are super smart and like true crime and books and… and can cook super well and have a history of serious heart conditions.”

“Like (Y/N)?”

You lift your head but decided the motion was going to make you sick.

“Like who?” Stiles mutters before smiling wide, “Like whom? What was I talking about?” He looks up to see Scott brooding over his crossed arms, “Hey, you’re not happy. Take a drink.”

“I don’t want any more,” Scott says.

“You’re not drunk?” Stiles asks, only to hear you fall into giggles again.

You lean your head towards him, “I’m drunk.” You still had one hand on Scott, running your fingers weirdly around his ankle in an absentminded gesture. Scott didn’t care – he still found it somewhat comforting to have you there.

“Hey, maybe it’s like… maybe it’s like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know.”

You tug on his pants leg, “You used to need an inhaler?” You were starting to sound sleepy.

“Maybe you can’t get drunk as a wolf.”

Scott picked up a pebble and threw it at Stiles’ face.

“Hey! What the hell…” he rubs at his face harshly, throwing his arms out afterwards. One of his arms lands across yours. “Come on man, I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don’t know,” he chuckles, his fingers subconsciously finding the skin of your wrist just under the flannel sleeve. They’re light and lazy as they trail up your wrist and down to your palm.

You hardly react, too drunk to really care. “I don’t really know either. Never had anything past a situationship before. They always leave when things get too serious.” You shiver, tickled by Stiles’ fingers. “They get all scared about me dying.”

Stiles rolls his head around the rocks he’s laying on, too far gone to really register what you’re saying, “I do know this though! I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse.” He laughs quietly, “That didn’t make any sense.”

His long fingers were overtaking the space of your hand now, tracing the skin there as he drifts off. Scott was staring at the two of you with mixed emotions, that is until a mystery guest appears to steal your bottle of whiskey.

“Well,” a sinister older looking boy says, “Look at the little bitches getting their drink on.”

Scott sets his face in cool indifference, “Give it back.”

Stiles’ fingers are no longer light and lazy – they grip your hand and pull you closer to him, half sitting up as he tries to clear his head. You hardly register the movement of your hand, only the distant panic starting to rise in your throat at the newcomers.

“What’s that, little man?” the guy had to be a senior or even a freshman in college.

Another guy of similar age was just behind him, “I think he wants a drink.”

Stiles was trying to stand up, “Scott, maybe we should just go.”

“Woah, woah – wait a minute,” the first guy whistles, “The party is just starting.” He eyes you down, “What’s your name, baby?”

You swallow hard, “We were just leaving.” Your head was terribly clearer now as a thrill of fear went down your spine. You try to stand too, “Enjoy the drink.”

“Oh, we will,” the guy says, approaching your standing figure, “But only if you enjoy it with us.”

“Hey, back off man,” Stiles says, wobbly as he holds onto you, “We don’t want any trouble.”

The guy goes for your free arm, slow but tight in how he grabs you, “You don’t want to spend the night with these losers. We can show you a better time.”

“Let go of me,” you say fiercely, but fear was shining in your eyes.

Stiles starts rambling off sentences of retort, pulling on you and pushing the guy away. Until you were yanked sharply, and a squeal escapes you.

All bets were off after that.

Stiles throws his drunken arms towards the guy, eventually punching him on the jawline closer to his ear. Scott, his eyes gleaming a strange yellow light, grabs the bottle of jack from the senior’s hand and throws it with incredible speed against a faraway tree.

His voice is deep and strange as he says, “Get out of here.”

And the two guys run off back towards the woods, passing the tree now drenched in whiskey and glass.

Your teeth were chattering, heartbeat rapid, and a look of fear plastered to your wide eyes. Stiles was shaking your shoulders, “You okay?” Then he pulls you into his embrace, guiding your head to rest under his chin, “You’re okay.” He rubs up and down your arm as he watches Scott stomp away towards the jeep.

“Hey, woah – Scott!” he holds you to him, kind of like a support for both your drunken bodies, but you’re grateful for the warmth his body provides as you head for the parking lot again.

Scott drives you all home, angry as he watches you sleepily lay in Stiles’ arms. The fidgety, sarcastic boy was slumped against the door and had his arms wrapped around you, snoring and completely unaware of how lucky he was.

He was going to lose his mind when he wakes up and doesn’t remember it all very well.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs

[xanwyn]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[greenerteacups]

Hi GT. I hope this message finds you well. I am sending all the good vibes and we'll wishes your way! ♥️♥️♥️ I hope you've had a wonderful summer.

I'm such a big fan of your work. Lioneheart is amazing and has stuck with me for such a long time.

I was wondering if you had any other stories you'd like to explore one day (even if you never get the chance to write them.) Whether it be fanfiction or original work, I was just curious because sometimes I feel as if I have hundreds of stories inside that I could tell, and I am not sure how to pick just one and see it to completion.

First of all, thank you! This is a fun one. I have a few enduring ideas for longfics I may or may not ever write (i.e., ideas that would have been projects already if I didn't have an ongoing longfic). I don't get stuck in them mostly because I try to remind myself that the idealized story you imagine when a concept occurs to you will never actually exist as it does when it's unshackled by the constraints of execution. What you'll get if you actually sit down and hack it out is (1) a real and imperfect piece of writing, and (2) the satisfaction of having written it, which is by far the more reliable source of motivation, if we're being honest. That being said, here are some ideas I've always wanted to explore, if and when I finish Lionheart:

I've always wanted to write a longform canon-divergent Tomione fic about Tom Riddle's 7th year at Hogwarts. Big honking political melodrama ft. the original Knights of Walpurgis, a Triwizard Tournament, and realistically functioning time travel (hence why this one's always been kicked down my list of projects, because writing a time-travel plot is like running through a minefield made of trampolines). I've already got character concepts sketched out for the Hogwarts cast — sooooo many fun ideas for the teenage Walburga. But I'd still need about a week of solid fic preproduction on the plot alone before I was ready to boot up and start writing, and it'd take at least 250k words — closer to 300k, if I'm being honest about myself. So this probably won't see the light of day anytime remotely soon, if ever.

A canon-compliant Dramione war fic, diverging from the Malfoy Manor chapters in Book 7, picking up from a speculative thread I read once about what would happen if the war didn't end after Voldemort died at the Battle of Hogwarts. I've always thought it would be fascinating to see who Hermione and Draco would become if they were actual soldiers in the war (and my disappointment with how Book 7 handled the "war" of it all has been established). That being said, Book 7 of Lionheart will probably give me a lot of similar ideas to chew on, so I don't know what my appetite for this one will be once I'm finished with it.

Durmstrang AU. This one's barely a fic concept so much as it is a mental moodboard — I just want to worldbuild the hell out of Durmstrang. And the international wizarding world, generally. It's a delicious sandbox.

A longform canon-compliant fic or series of fics about the previous generation of Blacks (Sirius/Bellatrix/Narcissa, namely). If you look at the books, there's a huge amount we don't know about the fall of the Blacks. I always found it bizarre that the sisters and Sirius seem to be the only ones left by 1995. No one else has a claim? No one else from this all-powerful wizarding family wants to step in and claim this big honking townhouse in the middle of London? Or its attendant fortune? Dude, what happened? Also, we don't see nearly enough of the Black family melodrama in canon. They lose 4/5 children of a generation in the span of almost single decade. And then (presumably) all of their parents die in the span of another. Goddamn. Just imagine the character work you could do there.

A No Chosen One/Voldemort Wins (The First Time) AU where Hermione never gets her letter, and meets Draco much later in life as a self-taught witch. The dynamics I have in my head for this are really enjoyable, and it would be a chance to finally write Hermione POV, plus the Draco I've cooked up for this universe is [chefs kiss]. I also just love the idea of Hermione as a feral witch-child running around muggle London. I love it a lot.

[soapybutt17]

Lost In Ikea

Summary: John was a patient man, but he had his limits. That includes having to navigate his way around a maze you called IKEA and the impossibility of having to put the bloody bed together—his patience was even shorter after being interupted twice and a broken bed as an aftermath. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Katherine Price) Word Count: 1,066 Chapter Warnings: General Chaos. John gets cockblocked twice. Unedited. Lol. Author's Note: for @glitterypirateduck;s O'Captain! Challenge Scenarios:

4. Lost In IKEA 55. Someone gets walked in on (doesn't have to be sexual) 89. Shopping for a new bed.

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The frown has marred John’s face the moment he had placed the car on park and he was greeted by the annoying blue and yellow signage. It still confused him to no end why you insist on buying a bed in IKEA when he could make one himself.

“Are you excited to go to IKEA?” The gentle baby talk lingered besides him as he turned towards you whose attention was solely on your six month old daughter on the car seat.

It was another special occasion for the three of you aside from buying a new bed for them, you had also decided that it was time to invest on some more furniture and decoration for the baby’s bed.

John grumbled under his breath as he reluctantly got out of the car, following his wife as you handed him the sling carrier to carry your daughter. Without another word, he placed his daughter onto the carried on his chest and was greeted with the lovely grumble of his pride and joy.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sane now, Love.” He whispered gently kissing on top of her head before following his wife through the towering blue and yellow entrance.

The sprawling maze of Scandinavian furniture loomed before him like a daunting labyrinth, and he could help but feel a surge of irritation bubbling within him. Why can his wife just allow him to make the bloody bed or more specifically fix the one they had broken last night instead?

“Can’t we just order online like normal people?” John muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the chatter of shoppers around. He honestly hated being surrounded by people and having to act hyper vigilant because of it.

You turned to him in amusement, but a sympathetic glance lingered, you know all too well his disdain for crowded stores and aimless browsing. But you also know him enough to know he hated online shopping just as much.

“Come on, John. We’re just here for the bed and some decorations for Katherine’s bed.” You tried your best to reassure him.

But as you three continued to venture deeper into the seemingly endless aisles, John’s frustration only intensified. Every turned seemed to lead to yet another showroom, each meticulously staged to showcase the latest in minimalist design. He couldn’t help but scoff at the idea of spending hours wandering through fake living rooms and bedrooms.

"This is ridiculous," John grumbled, scanning the maze of shelves for any sign of escape. "How can anyone enjoy this?"

You chuckled rubbing his bearded cheek before kissing him on the cheeks, knowing there was only one way to placate him and his stormy mood.

“How about this,” You began pulling him towards one of the less populated showrooms. “How about once we’re finished with shopping for the bed and decorations, we can bring Katherine to your parents’ house for a few days so we could handle fixing the bed and redesigning Katherine’s room?” You wiggled your brows knowingly.

John was slowly cracking at the proposition.

“Three days. One day for creating that bloody bed and two days of whatever I want.” He proposed.

“How about a week and we fly your parents and Katherine to Disneyland?” You offered.

“Deal.” John shook your hands sealing the deal and your fate for the weak.

Even with the deal in place, John could not hide his annoyance. Meandering through the store, his annoyance grew with each passing moment especially when you three had found yourself walking in circles for a couple of times. The endless stream of shoppers, the blaring announcements over the intercom, and the overwhelming array of choices left him feeling claustrophobic and irritable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and the growing irritable baby on his chest, they had reached the checkout line with their items at hand. John let out a sigh of relief, eager to finally escape the chaos of the store.

“We are never setting foot in an IKEA again.” John muttered to you as soon as you three had exited.

“I hope you keep your word and keep the bed sturdy.” You pointed out knowingly.

John rolled his eyes, not wanting to remember the reason behind the broken bed in the first place.

~

Last Night

“Get out!”

John was close to a coronary at this point. It was the third time tonight that someone had interrupted him with his wife and he was ready to shoot anyone else that would try barging into his bedroom without bloody knocking.

“I told you to lock the bedroom door.” You giggled finding the whole thing amusing. Even with you barely clothed at this point just as much as him, you were barely affected by the fact that Gaz had seen the two of you almost having sex.

John had wished he had never brought the three to his home, he had wished no one knew about their relationship, and he had wished that his wife was not so hospitable as you were right now even after the incident that had now become a common occurrence when everyone was off base.

If only he could turn back time.

“If I had known that those Muppets didn’t know how to knock I would have.” He muttered, the mood now dampened with annoyance of being interrupted.

“Just lock the door and fuck me already.” You giggled, nudging him with your foot and he somehow sprang back to life at that.

Wasting no time, he got up and locked the door before jumping right back into devouring you. You were a giggling mess as he began to strip you of what remained of your clothes.

Even before John could begin, the sound of Soap’s laughter and the crying that came soon after from their daughter had finally sealed the deal that the moment was ruined permanently for the night.

“Bloody fucking hell.” John couldn’t help himself from cursing as you burst into fits of laughter as you stood up and slid on your night robe and opened the door to tend to your crying daughter and attempt to scold Soap from keeping it down.

Slumping his full body into the bed in frustration, the last thing John would have ever expected to happen was for the bed to give out under him further sealing his fate for the night.

“God fucking damn it.”

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 14

Hey, guys just a couple chapters left. The story is done. I kind skip over the Mind Flayer bit and get back to the heart of the story, Eddie and Steve.

It will be some time before I start the last one. The lack of interest for this one made it hard to finish and as you're aware I don't really like having to rely on canon so much. And the last one will have to feature it in someway. But we'll see.

In this we get Eddie calling in the cavalry, Steve and Robin are captured and Steve plays hero.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

To say Eddie was worried would be an understatement. He had gone to the mall to pick Steve up from work and he wasn’t there.

But he knew about the Russian message and he knew that there was one thing Steve couldn’t stand and that’s was letting a literal child rush headlong into danger, not if he could help it.

So he started looking around. There were bound to be clues. And sure enough, the ladder had been moved and vent wasn’t properly screwed on anymore. But there was no way that any of the three Musketeers would fit through that space and he shuddered to think what or who they would have gotten to go down that tunnel.

He put his hand on his hip and scratched his chin. Then he snapped his fingers. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to call in the cavalry and by cavalry he meant Uncle Wayne.

Eddie went to a payphone and pulled out a quarter. He dialed home.

“‘Ello,” Wayne greeted gruffly. “Wayne speaking.”

“Uncle Wayne!” he cried. “I’m at the mall and I can’t find Steve. His car is still here, but I can’t find him. Which his car being here is weird as I was supposed to pick him up.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Wayne said, nice and low, “This is about those comics, ain’t it?”

Eddie straightened his spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be playing games with me, boy,” Wayne growled. “If your boy is trouble I need to know everything.”

“Meet me on the north side of the mall and I’ll tell you what I know,” Eddie whispered, looking over his shoulder. “I don’t want to say much over the phone.”

Again there was a beat then, “I’m on my way.”

~

The arguing was starting to mess with Steve’s head. In that he meant it was going to give him a migraine and then he was going to murder them. Particularly since he didn’t have his medication with him.

Because they were trapped in a fucking elevator underneath the mall and no way out or back up.

“Shut up!” he huffed. “I don’t care about Tina or Uncle Jack’s party, mmk?” He cocked his head forward for emphasis. “Look if we don’t find a way out of here, there wouldn’t be any parties or shit, because we’d all be dead. No one is looking for us, because they don’t know where we are.”

Erica popped her hip and placed her hand on it. “Maybe no one is looking for you. But my parents are absolutely looking for me.”

Steve covered his face with his hands. “Not what I meant! I mean no one is going to look for a secret Russian base under the mall because that’s fucking insane!”

Time went on and it was looking less and less likely they’d find a way out even with Dustin constantly trying to use his little communicator to reach out to anyone who could help when Robin heard someone coming.

They all ducked behind the crates when Steve got a bright idea. Taking Erica’s vial of green glowing liquid, he leapt into action.

As the elevator door closed, he stuck the vial between the floor and the door, effectively stopping its descent. He signaled to Dustin and Erica to get out first and then Robin. He rolled under the door just the vial’s strength gave out.

It shattered, its contents spewing all over the floor. Then to their horror it began to eat away at the floor and the door.

“Shit!” Dustin swore and Steve agreed. He barely missed rolling into the stuff and really didn’t want to know what it did to flesh if it did that to fucking metal.

They looked around but the only way to go was further into the base.

“Out of the frying pan,” Robin said with her hands on her hips, “and into the fire.”

Steve sighed and walked toward the long hallway, the other three following close behind.

~

Eddie paced in front of the movie theater. He was really worried about Steve now. He had asked a couple of the other people in the food court if they had seen anything, but the only thing they mentioned was that they closed early.

He wished not for the first time that Steve had thought to call him. But he knew why he didn’t. There were several reason that came to his head. That Dustin was super pushy about it and Steve wasn’t allowed the time to call. That Steve didn’t want him involved in whatever the hell this mess was. Which fair, but a head’s up would have been nice.

A beat up pickup pulled to a stop in front of him and he nearly sagged with relief. Uncle Wayne would know what to do.

Wayne was out of his truck and gathering Eddie up in his arms before his lip could even wobble.

Eddie told him everything Steve had said about weird shit in Hawkins and how everything was tied to that lab. He had been slowly prying it out of Steve over the last month whenever they were alone.

“We’ll find him,” Wayne said fiercely. “So he’s car’s here, which means it’s probably been left here overnight. Whatever happened, didn’t happen today. Which isn’t good. Who might he have gone to?”

Eddie frowned. “I’m pretty sure Dustin is already with him, and probably his co-worker, Robin Buckley.” He thought about the comic with the dire wolves. “Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield.”

“Ed,” Wayne said slowly, “those are children you just named.”

“Uh...” Eddie said, wrinkling his brow in concentration. “I know there are a couple of actual adults involved, but I don’t know who. I mean, I’d guess Mrs. Byers because her son is in the middle of all this shit, but...” he just shrugged.

Wayne rubbed his eyebrow in frustration. These were children, Steve included. He didn’t care if the boy just turned eighteen, Steve was only sixteen when all this shit started. None of them should have been anywhere near this shit.

“Hopper!” Eddie cried, snapping his fingers. “Steve said the police chef knew about the goings on here in Hawkins.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Wayne muttered darkly.

Secretly Eddie agreed. He was usually all about down with the man and conspiracies and all that shit, but the chief of police knowing that things are fucked up and not doing more to protect this town from whatever the hell this all was? Yeah, fuck that guy in particular.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Wayne said firmly. “I’m going to go the police station and hunt Hopper down, see if he knows about anything under the mall. You are going to stay here, keep an eye out for him at the mall. Since his car is still here, he’s got to be somewhere on the property.”

Eddie nodded, pursing his lips together and rocking back on his heels.

“Good,” Wayne groused. “I’ve got a pair of walkies in the cab of my truck, we’ll keep in contact that way, okay?”

Eddie heaved a sigh of relief. That made it easy to know where each other was at all times. He took the walkie talkie from Wayne and headed back into the mall.

He knew that Steve wouldn’t be in the food court, wherever he had gone, was away from the ice cream shop.

So he setup his vigil on one of the benches half way between the food court and the theater so that he could keep an eye on the two busiest locations.

He pulled out his little notebook to make it look like he was drawing or whatever to not arouse suspicion and settled in for a long wait.

~

Steve was fucking terrified. He wanted to run back to Forest Hills and crawl into Eddie’s bed and never come out of it ever again. They were only supposed to find out what the Russians were up to so that they could report it to their ‘friends’ at the DOE and be lauded as heroes instead of heaps of NDAs and admonishments to keep their mouths shut.

But now they were walking into something they didn’t even fucking know how to get out of. No one knew where they were. Or even where to start looking. Dustin had almost used up all the battery on his little communicator trying to get into contact with their friends and no one had answered.

And then he saw it.

It was a good thing he hadn’t eaten in who knows how long because he absolutely would have lost it.

“What the hell is that?” Erica said, reeling back in disgust.

“Dustin,” Steve implored. “Please tell me that isn’t what it looks like.”

Dustin grabbed his hand. “Uh...nope. It’s exactly what it looks like.”

They had reached a room where there were a lot of scientists running around, calling out in Russian and making notes on clipboards. In the center of the room was a red pulsating mass.

They ducked behind some boxes and Steve bit back a whimper.

“Is it open?” Steve asked Dustin.

Dustin peeked over the boxes and then ducked back down. “No. Not yet. But I bet that’s what the green goo is for.”

“Shit,” Steve hissed. “Of course they’re trying to open a Gate. What else would Russians want with Hawkins?”

Dustin looked devastated, because Steve was right. There was only one thing a foreign government would want in their fucked up little town. The Upside Down.

They managed to sneak around the scientists and found themselves in a control room. A mostly empty control with a single guard.

Steve plan was stupid. But it was all they had.

And it ended better than he thought it would if he was honest with himself. Robin and he had been captured while Erica and Dustin had gotten away.

They kept asking him over and over who they were and who they worked for. Steve did everything he could to keep the attention on him. Robin didn’t know anything. She didn’t know anything about Gates and monsters, and alternative dimensions. He kept repeating the truth over and over again.

“Steve Harrington, I work at Scoops Ahoy!” he chanted, his voice slurring after the fifth strike to the side of his face.

Again and again they didn’t believe him.

Then they took him away and the beating intensified. He was crying now and he didn’t care. He just wanted to have a barbecue with his boyfriend and his uncle. His parents had called him again to say that they wouldn’t be home. He hoped and feared that Eddie and Wayne were looking for him.

Then his world went black.

~

I'm not going to show Steve being tortured. This story isn't about that. It's not even really about season 3. It's about Steve and Eddie.

Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

[l33bang24]

OMG It’s You…

Youtube! Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️ Warning ⚠️: overthinking, anxiety, undeserving, frustration, fatigue

🏷️: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (taglist open)

Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

I don’t think people understand just how exhausting life can be. ‘Not to mention expensive too.’ I thought to myself. When I got home I greeted my family before dumping my stuff by the front door then headed to my room. I collapsed on the bed and let out a huge sigh. I didn’t want to get up because of how exhausted I was but I needed to edit some of my videos I’ve made in the last couple of days. I dreaded doing it because I lost some of my footage due to me falling asleep at the computer. How I did it exactly is a mystery to me. All I know is I tried to find it and it wasn’t there.

I got up and started moving about the room. I needed to get changed and get a shower before I started working. As I was in the shower I started reflecting on my YouTube channel. I’m an introvert as most people would say. I don’t socialize much with others unless I’m at work where I have to, but I usually mind my own business. Unless I hear gossip then I’m interested. I debated whether if it was a good idea to start a channel since I didn’t think I was very entertaining.

You see I grew up in the South where I listened to Country music along with some Pop and occasional Hip Hop or R&B. When I first heard K-pop music it was odd at first but over time I came to really enjoy it. Which brings me to where I am now, listening to K-pop music and rating the group’s albums from my perspective and reacting to videos of them being silly. Stray Kids found their way into my heart one day and since then they’ve become a part of my life.

After getting refreshed, I go into the kitchen to find something to eat since my stomach made a gurgling noise. I decided on a sandwich and some chips. After making my food I head back to my room and start up my computer and monitors. It’s been a little over a year now since I started this channel. I knew from the start that doing a reaction channel probably wouldn’t go viral right away, but after some time more people started to find my channel and following me. Especially after my reaction to God’s Menu MV. Call it the Felix effect if you would. Even to the point where they were excited for new videos to come out.

I always worried that people wouldn’t like my videos, but then I would see all the positive comments and smile that I made someone’s day better. I used that positivity to keep me going, doesn’t mean that I didn’t get hate here or there. Although there are a bunch of people who stood up for me. That would always make my day better.

‘Focus Y/N. You still have to finish these two videos so you can start making more for next week.’ I shook my head and got working on my videos that I already recorded. ‘I need to re-record what I deleted so that I can finish editing this video.” I got to work on the one I didn’t mess up first before going to the second one. I pulled my camera towards me and turning it on. I pulled up the previous videos I had watched from that evening before doing my intro.

“Hello Lovelies and welcome back to the channel. So, as you will see I’m dressed different from my previous video. Reason being is that I deleted some footage and now I’m having to re-record where I left off. So, let’s get started shall we.”

——————————————————————

Third Person POV

The boys were taking a small break from practice. They’ve been going at it for days it seemed like, even if it were only a couple of hours. Things were picking up since their comeback was coming up soon. As each one of them found a place to relax, Felix was watching a video on YouTube.

“How many times have you watched that same video?” Felix looked up to see his other half looking at his screen with his eyebrows raised. “I can’t help it. She’s very relatable, super sweet, and I love her accent. Plus she’s beautiful and has gorgeous y/e/c eyes.” Hyunjin sits down beside Felix. “Okay okay I get it, you love everything about Y/N. It’s not like you’re the only one though.” Hyunjin takes a moment to look at the rest of his members. “We all have seen her videos and like her just the same as you, if not more.” Felix sighs. “I know. I guess some days I enjoy watching her videos because they make me smile. Especially when some days are harder than others. Her videos comfort me like a warm hug on a cold day.” Felix smiles thinking about it while Hyunjin smiles at him, understanding where he comes from.

He remembers when they first found Y/N’s videos. During Chan’s room, there were some Stays that told Chan to look her up and watch her videos. It didn’t happen right away but Stays were persistent on them watching her, so they finally watched one of her videos just to see what their fans were talking about. One video turned into three videos then seven videos, up until the point where they had seen all of her videos. Some might say that Stray Kids themselves love Y/N’s videos more than Stays. Each member has there own favorite episodes of Y/N as well as their favorite qualities of her. Chan likes how motherly she acts, especially when it comes to Stays asking her questions on certain topics. Lee Minho likes how she can understand and speak Korean. Even go as far as to have subtitles in Korean for people who don’t understand English that well.

Changbin likes her laugh, especially when its uncontrollable laughter. It makes him want to laugh with her. Hyunjin likes how creative she can be with her edits. Like when she adds in all these cool effects or audio cues that make the video even more engaging. Han Jisung likes how uncharacteristically funny she can be without trying. Felix like her smile, he thinks it’s her most charming point. Seungmin likes her sassy/blunt side. He thinks that’s the funniest part of her personality. Jeongin likes her whole personality in general. He knows he could see her as an older sister if he ever met her.

Hyunjin turns back to Felix “I believe that’s exactly how Stays feel seeing videos of us too. We’ve seen them express it through messages and videos. So I get where you’re coming from.” He pats Felix’s knee and moves to go back over to his original spot.

“SHE JUST POSTED A NEW VIDEO!” All of the boys looked in the direction of the voice they heard. All scrambling to get over to Changbin who had called them. “Well what are you waiting for? Play the video!” Lee Know shouts as Changbin presses play on his phone.

(Terrible title but it’s all I could come up with lol. Hope you all like it! I’m trying something new so who knows how far I’ll go with this one. I’ll try to update as much as I can. Thanks!)

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

——————————————————————

Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

*

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6