#can’t decide if he was knocked up by another professor or maybe a grad student

[constantnbpreg]

imagine a pregnant college professor. trying to teach a whole lecture hall of students for multiple classes, all while heavily pregnant. the students in his life watching him as he stands in front of them, one hand cradling his gravid swell and the other supporting his arched back. his breathing is heavy as he lectures and there are many times where he has to catch his breath because he’s so heavy. maybe a couple of times he has to rest his baby belly on the nearest surface just to get a bit of a break as he teaches…

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable Ch 15- Help

Warnings: swearing, drugs

Ch 14 | Ch 16

~ ~ ~

Another few weeks of silence. Lydia got a few calls from the team during the first week, but slowly they thinned out and disappeared.

She dropped herself onto the couch after her shift at a nearby coffee shop. It wasn’t the ideal job, but she needed some form of income to pay rent until she was out of school.

Her professor and her were discussing getting her teaching credentials and getting experience as a student teacher before she retired. The plan was to have her prepared by the upcoming spring semester, still 10 months away.

That was it. She was going to be a teacher. It was a fine career path, especially for someone of her age. And she had time to do something else if it truly didn’t suit her.

Lydia’s eyes grew heavy and she was just thinking about leaving her grad school work for another day, when someone knocked on her door.

Huffing, she picked herself up once more and checked the peephole. Gideon was hovering outside.

“Did Garcia give you my address?” Lydia asked bluntly, not even fully opening up the door,

“Yes.” He looked relieved to see her and Lydia wondered for a moment if Hotch had actually told the team she died. “May I come in?”

She rolled her eyes, but swung the door open, walking back to her couch. “Feel free to sit. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

“Thank you.”

There was a chair beside the couch, which he quickly took advantage of. And then he watched her, closely. He watched her close up her computer, pull her legs underneath her, and wait patiently for him to say something. He watched her for some sort of sign that she was happy, upset, or confused to see him there. But she just looked bored.

“You didn’t tell me that you were leaving,” he began, his voice soft.

Lydia shrugged. “You weren’t my boss. Hotch was.”

“That’s not why I care.” He leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees. “Did you think I was going to try to convince you to stay?”

“Were you?”

“Would you have stayed if I had?”

She looked away, shutting her eyes briefly. “I should hope I know what’s better for me than you do.”

“People love things that aren’t good for them,” he argued. “No one at the BAU enjoys their job. There’s… something else about it that keeps us there.”

“There’s nothing to keep me there anymore. Enough said.”

He paused again, watching her posture. It had tightened, but still she gave up nothing.

“You’re such a good actress. If I didn’t know you so well, I wouldn’t be able to tell that you were scared.”

“Scared?” she demanded, biting back a chuckle. Normally Jason frightened her with how well he did his job. But saying she was scared? No way.

“Of course.” His responses were so nonchalant, that she couldn’t bring herself to argue until she knew what had him so convinced. “Hotch told me that something happened between you and Reid. I’m sorry. I know you two were close. But I also know that the only time you back away from something is when you know you aren’t emotionally ready for it. Not because you’re afraid of anyone else, but because you are scared of yourself. You think you’re a naturally violent person, Lydia. When you and Reid had a fight, you thought you might go too far and someone would get hurt.”

“Amazing job,” she said sarcastically. “Stellar profile. Except that if I was going to quit anyway, why hold back?”

“There’s something more to it. You're not worried about those consequences. There must be other consequences. Does he have something on you?”

Did he? He knew more about her than anyone on the team. Was she actually afraid of anything she told him?

“Sure. He has my trust and I don’t have his. I thought I did, but he made it abundantly clear that I mean nothing to him. So yes... sure… I left because Reid made me feel unwelcome. And yes, I’m afraid that if I become too involved in the team again, he might threaten me or ruin my relationship with the other agents. But maybe, in the end, I quit because I realized that there might be better things out there. Better people.”

“Reid cares about you so much. You probably are the person he trusts the most on the team… That’s why I need your help.”

Help? Was he joking?

Lydia laughed though she was in no way amused by the prospect. “With him? Why? Is he being an asshole to you, too? Maybe everyone on the team should consider leaving him to his own devices. You did say once that if we compared our skills to Reid, he’d run the team on his own. Why not let him?”

“Lydia, Reid’s not an asshole. He’s a genuinely good person. But he’s acting out emotionally because he feels abandoned by the team. Tell me that you can’t understand that.”

Shit. He was right about that. That sounded just like her when her father got arrested. Lashing out, driving others away, demanding justice. Maybe she was the asshole here… But there was no way she could bring herself to admit that.

“I’m not seeking out someone who’s only going to hurt me. Maybe he does need help. But I’m not his mother. I have my own life to lead.”

He sighed, audibly. Knowing him, it was probably all part of his act. Gideon taught her well to manipulate suspects. “I just came here because I thought… I wanted you to understand him a bit better.”

“Well, thanks.” Lydia stood up from her couch, headed towards the door to not-so-subtly tell him to leave. “Now I can know that he hates my guts and feel like an asshole for not being the first person to try and make up. Goodbye, Gideon.”

When he got up, he just stared at her for a moment, not wanting to leave on such a bad note. “Please… please talk to me soon, okay?”

Not wanting to look like he’d caused her to feel as conflicted as she did, she rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah… Sure I’ll do that,” before walking him out.

~ ~ ~

“-and Beck claims she’s close to committing a murder.”

“She used to find it endearing,” Lydia replied, laughing with Sonia. “Lydie and Becky. She thought the rhyming was cute.”

“That’s because they always said it together. Now they run around the house yelling ‘Becky! Becky!’ and she screams ‘Don’t call me that!’”

Lydia could hear her sister complaining from across the country. She never liked being called Becky until the twins came along. To everyone else it was Beck or Rebecca. That was how Lydia and Sonia knew she liked them. She put up with it for them.

And then, they turned eight.

“She insists they’re doing it on purpose. She says she can just tell by their tone of voice that they’re mocking her.”

“To be honest, who’s to say they’re not?”

Sonia chuckled. “Yeah, they’re kind of a lot. Why did I agree to take in twins?”

“Because you’re a good person,” Lydia said.

It was true. The foster care system wasn’t kind to siblings. Especially older siblings, who struggled to get adopted. Sonia took in her and Rebecca knowing that they would be separated otherwise. And then, she was told about the twins, two toddlers, and her heart just couldn’t let them lose one another.

There was a soft knocking at Lydia’s door. She figured it was Gideon again, here to check up on her, so she decided to say her goodbyes.

“Make sure they know that their gifts are on the way! Sorry I fell so far behind!”

“Take care of yourself, honey. They aren’t even worried about the gifts they were so excited to get to talk to you on the phone.”

“Miss you all loads!”

As she put her phone down, there was another knock, this time, somehow, even more timid.

Standing, she peaked out the peephole and almost shrieked in surprise, throwing the door open before she could think better of it.

“Spencer…?” Lydia did a quick sweep of the hallway for anyone else. “Can I help you?”

His head was hung low, occasionally glancing up at her before dropping it again. “Yeah, I… May I come in?”

That’s what set off the alarms in her mind. His voice was a hoarse mirror of it’s usual self and the fact that he wouldn’t look at her made her think he’d been crying. Whatever caused him to show up here, it wasn’t about their relationship. This was about him.

He needed someone. And although, after everything, she wasn’t sure why he’d come here, she stepped out of the way and let him in.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

She saw him shuffle over to the couch, then made over to her kitchen to get him some water. She didn’t know what was wrong with him. She doubted he’d be so inclined to tell her. But obviously he’d been through a lot and she knew the basics of how to handle someone in this state: water, blanket, patience, distraction.

He didn’t speak as she handed the glass to him. His mouth moved as if to thank her, but if he did, it wasn’t audible. He was frightened, it seemed.

Maybe something had happened on a case. Someone had gotten hurt. Maybe it was just nightmares from the kidnapping over a month ago. She didn’t even consider the thing he might be scared of was her. Speaking to her.

“Spencer, if you need me to talk you off some ledge, I’ll do it,” she started. “I’ll stand there and hold you up before you step away from the drop willingly. But I’m not sure what to say.”

His eyes were wet. Not full tears yet, but it terrified Lydia to know what he wanted to tell her.

“I’m- I’m not… Lydia, I’ve done-“ He fumbled desperately for the right way to say this to Lydia, but came up empty. There was no way to say this. Frustrated, he reached for his sleeve and ripped it up at high as it would go.

Lydia felt sick as she recognized what was afflicting him. There were red needle markings and bruises inside his elbow.

“Oh my god, Spencer. What is it?”

“You know that I wouldn’t have-“

“No! God no, Spencer! You don’t have to defend yourself!” she cried. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m here to help you, not judge you. But you have to tell me what it is.”

Her fingers ghosted over the abused skin. He wanted more than anything for there to be another reason he was here. With her. He wished he’d had some other excuse to come see her. For her to hold him.

But he’s gotten himself into this whole fucking mess and there wasn’t another reason. He was here because he needed help and she was only agreeing because that’s the kind of person she was.

“Dilaudid.”

She bit down on her bottom lip. Fuck. “Okay. And Spencer? Are you here to get help or because you need to get it off your chest? I’m glad you told me, I really am, but if you aren’t planning to stop, I think you should find comfort elsewhere.”

It felt so harsh that she regretted it the instant the words left her mouth. But it was true. If Spencer wasn’t committed to getting clean, he wouldn’t be able to. And she wasn’t going to waste her energy on someone who wasn’t trying to be better.

“I need help. I thought I could figure this out by myself, but I… I don’t know anymore. I lose my will and I feel helpless and I thought you might… I thought you might understand. I know that’s horrible to assume, but with your family history I thought-”

“You aren’t assuming anything, Spencer,” she informed him. “You’re right. I know a lot about addiction and drugs and your brain chemistry right now. So, I’m going to be completely honest with you. I will help you, no questions asked. I won’t tell anyone unless absolutely necessary. And you don’t need to apologize or explain yourself. But if I feel you stop caring about getting clean or if I find out you’re using me for sympathy, that all goes away. I can’t help someone without… determination.”

He grabbed her hand suddenly. “I promise I’m determined. So determined. Please… Please fix me.”

Her heart tore to shreds. He was begging. Desperate. He truly felt alone.

But at least she was sure he’d get through this.

“You’re going to stay here for the next few days, at least,” she ordered. “The nights are going to be the most difficult right after going sober. If you can call in sick with Hotch, do that. Because the next few days are going to be hell if you don’t have any time to yourself.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll, uh… I’ll tell Hotch that I can’t come in for the next few days.”

“Good.” She sighed. “Once you’re sober, we can work through how to deal with the cravings. But for now, I want you to keep track of your symptoms and let me know what’s going on so I can help. Even if it’s just a hot flash in the middle of the night, I want you to tell me immediately.”

“Lydia, I…”

She paused her rambling, waiting for him to tell her she was overwhelming him. She felt overwhelmed herself, but then again, this was not how she expected her night to go.

“...thank you.”

Her heart missed a beat, but she pulled herself back onto track, rolling her eyes. “What did you think? I was going to send you away because you were mean to me? We aren’t children, Reid. I’m willing to-”

“I was on it then, too,” he whispered. “The dilaudid. Tobias gave it to me to help me deal with the torture. That’s why I got mad at you… It wasn’t because I thought you had abandoned me. Or because I thought you didn’t care. I was just… I knew I was messed up. That I wasn’t going to get over this. And I wanted to keep it away from you. I know that it doesn’t work like that, but I wanted you to know now that none of that anger stemmed from something you had done. It was on me. All me.”

“It wasn’t… totally your fault.” Lydia started to categorize her thoughts. What had really happened that night?

She had felt guilty for leaving him and going back to California. She was terrified after hearing he’d been taken hostage by a dangerous unsub. And the stress of leaving Sonia, if only for a few days, had her stomach in knots.

And from Spencer’s perspective, he was overcome by guilt. He’d felt indebted to Tobias, who went against his father (or the version of his father that he inhabited)’s wishes in order to save his life. And in return, Spencer had to kill him. Throw into the mix an intense craving for heroin and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for calm debate.

“I’m so sorry that I was insensitive to your feelings,” Lydia apologized. “At the time I wasn’t prepared to hear what you had to say and I reacted harshly… We’re too stubborn, you and I.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, more than said. “Either way, I can’t believe what I said to you. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness or help. I just… I couldn’t tell the team and you were the only other person I trusted with this stuff.”

“You’re already forgiven, Spencer. Don’t worry. I know what these… things do to people. I’ve said worse to my sister and my father and my foster mom. Believe me, you get a pass for this one.”

She smiled at him and he hesitantly returned it.

“So… I think we should start by having you grab some stuff from your place, because I wasn’t kidding. While we get you sober, I want you to stay here.”

“Okay… Yeah, let’s do that.”

“And you’re going to call Hotch?���

“Yeah. I’ll tell him I’ve got the flu.”

The trip was quick and before she knew it, Lydia was back in her own apartment. Her and Spencer spent the rest of the evening talking about the cases he worked while she was gone and what she was up to in California. Lydia was glad they could fall back into being comfortable with one another. Friendly, even.

She still avoided her conversation with her father, not sure how to bring up his imprisonment to Spencer, especially now that Spencer had his own problems.

It was growing later, the two of them having drifted off into their own minds on the couch.

“You were too good for me, Lydia,” he said out of the blue. “I couldn’t stand not feeling worthy of you anymore.”

“‘We accept the love we think we deserve,’” she quoted.

“That was profound,” he muttered.

“It’s Stephen Chbosky,” she explained. “The Perks of Being a Wallflower.”

“I don’t know it.”

She gasped loudly. “You don’t know The Perks of Being a Wallflower? But Reid, it’s a classic!” She held up a hand quickly. “-And I don’t want to argue about the definition of ‘classic’ right now. Just trust me, it’s good… I think I brought my copy with me.”

Lydia got up, wandering into her room to look for the small novel. It sat in the middle of a stack of books on her bedside table. Smiling, she slipped it out, flipping through the pages fondly.

A thought struck her and she walked back to the door of her room to speak with him again.

“Get in the bed.”

Spencer blinked up at her, looking shocked. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“No,” she chuckled. “I’m going to read you to sleep, doctor. Get into bed.”

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, his cheeks tinted pink. “I was going to sleep on the couch…”

“Have you seen your legs?” she demanded. “You wouldn’t fit on the couch with your knees touching your chin. Just sleep in my bed and stop whining. You asked for my help and now you can’t escape me.”

“Clearly,” he replied, but there was amusement in his eyes.

He grabbed his things and went to get changed into something more comfortable for sleep. Then, he slowly crawled underneath the covers beside her.

At first, he sat up against the headboard with her, but Lydia shook her head. “You aren’t going to sleep like that.”

“This feels wrong, Lydia. We aren’t dating.”

“Do you think I’m going to take advantage of you,” she joked. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll sleep on the couch, but you are sleeping here, and that’s final. Now then, lay down.”

He did as she asked, sliding down so that he was fully horizontal. “I won’t be able to sleep,” he complained. “When I’m listening to something I give it all of my focus. I’ve never been able to sleep when my mom read to me.”

“Alright. We’ll read a little bit. A few pages, that’s all. And then we can both try to get some sleep. Will you finally stop your whining so I can begin?”

He looked a little startled by her insistence, but finally nodded for her to continue.

“‘August 25, 1991,’” she read. “‘Dear friend, I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn’t try to sleep with that person at that party even though you could have. Please don’t try and figure out who she is because then you might figure out who I am, and I really don’t want you to do that…’”

~ ~ ~

The first two days were the hardest. Spencer didn’t get any sleep the first night, shaking and sweating fitfully. It had just hit the afternoon the next day when the nausea started. He stayed in the bathroom for most of the day. Lydia wrapped a blanket around him and brought him cold glasses of water and warm tea to help relax him.

At one point, she found him crying from the stomach cramps, his arms wrapped around himself protectively.

But after another day, his withdrawal symptoms had peaked and the rest was just cravings and an underlying uncomfortable feeling. Every night, she read him a few of the letters in The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

He didn’t understand it. Not really. The main character, Charlie, contradicted himself a lot and danced around explaining hard topics, but Spencer still listened to her intently. She read it the same way she talked about her family. Her eyes glazed over slightly, her voice hesitant, fitting for the character.

After the first two days, he had to go back into work. Lydia sent him with a ton of painkillers to get him through the day without his brain exploding. And once he was done for the day, he’d end up right back at her door.

“Now that you’re sober,” Lydia had told him, “the biggest challenge will be the cravings. It’s really common for people to relapse. If you feel like relapsing, no matter the place or time, I want you to call me. And even if you do relapse, don’t be afraid to tell me. I’m here to help, remember?”

And she was. She was helping so much.

...and he was starting to reach a point where he wished she wasn’t.

He missed her. He missed her like hell. He missed walking around the park with her. He missed her ordering ice cream for them so that he didn’t have to interact with the cashiers. He missed the way she tousled his hair after kissing him. He even missed working with her.

“I didn’t just leave for you,” she had tried to assure him. “When I went back home, I realized that working for the FBI caused me to miss a lot. I didn’t mind at the time, missing a Christmas or birthday with them. But they deserve more from me.”

“I wish you would come back,” he admitted.

She just laughed. “You told me to pursue this opportunity to become a professor. It’s a good job. I’m excited for it.”

Every moment he was with her, he missed her more.

Asking her out now wasn’t fair to her. She might feel compelled to agree because of the fragile state he was in.

After coming back from his first case since getting sober, he went to stay with her again, excusing it as the stress of the job making him want company just in case. But he was simply in denial about the fact that he still loved her.

Or perhaps denial wasn’t the right word.

Lydia was reading to him that evening, the two of them almost done with the novel, when she realized how tired he was. She wanted to finish up on some grad school work before she went to sleep, so she told him to get some rest and started to go when he called her back.

“Yes?”

“I just… I love you, Lydia,” he mumbled sleepily.

Her whole body froze, her stomach tightening uncomfortably. “Spencer?”

He smiled, his eyes still shut. “Yeah?”

Maybe she’d misheard him? He was far too tired to be thinking sensibly. She shook her head and started to leave, but he peeked an eye open.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” he asked.

Fuck… was he actually on something? He was acting drunk, but she didn’t think so. He hadn’t been acting weird when he got there so he’d probably just gotten… really, really tired.

“Say what?”

“That you love me? Don’t you… love me?”

It was actually sort of pathetic to hear from him in his distant state. But something possessed her to respond honestly.

“Spencer, I love you so much,” she told him, walking over to where he lay and kneeling beside him. “But you aren’t thinking straight and I don’t want you to say something you regret.”

He shook his head childishly. “I could never regret telling you how I feel unless you don’t love me back.”

Lydia gave him her softest smile and kissed him on the forehead. “We can talk about your feelings tomorrow, all right? Go to bed.”

He hadn’t meant to do it. His exhaustion had won over his common sense. And there was no way to take it back.

But did she mean it?

~ ~ ~

Lydia smiled, hearing Spencer leave the bedroom the next morning. She’d been anxious all night about having this conversation with him, but now that the time was there, a part of her felt relieved to be able to put it all out on the table.

“Do you ever feel like we got together too fast?” she inquired, not looking at him, instead relaxing on the couch.

She could hear him clear his throat awkwardly, probably far more afraid to speak with her than she was.

“No…?” he responded, shyly. “We’d known each other for almost a year when I asked you out. I’ve known people to get married in less time.”

“Not what I meant… Also, can we really call what you did ‘asking me out’?”

“I was the one to ask if you wanted food,” he argued.

“Yeah, and when I asked if it was a date, you got all awkward and said no. I think I asked you, more than you asked me.”

“That’s not fair!” he cried, walking around the couch to face her. “All you did was insist that it was a date!”

She laughed, seeing him all flustered. “Alright, alright. I call it a team effort. How about you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever.”

“Anyways, I don’t mean that we didn’t know each other long enough. I just… were we ready? You spent the whole time fretting about me being in the field and I was so worried about keeping your secret that I didn’t tell my family-- who live in California-- about you! A healthy relationship isn’t built on fear and that’s all we made ours. Fear.”

“I didn’t mean to make you scared,” he worried. “I just couldn’t stand the whole… the whole conversation. The whole ‘we’re dating: Here’s a look into our personal lives’ thing.”

“I respect that!” she said, quickly. “I didn’t need the team to know. But after we broke up, all I could think about was how much wanting to make you happy affected me. I know better now. If you weren’t happy around me being myself, it wouldn’t be a good relationship. Haven’t you learned anything?”

“Don’t yell at your girlfriend?” he tried. “Don’t tell me that worrying about you was wrong, because I’m always going to worry. It’s who I am.”

“I guess my point is, if we were together, would you let me keep working in the field? Would you be comfortable with that? Because when we got together, I thought that was part of the deal. I wouldn’t expect you to risk or stop yourself from doing your job for me and I expected the same. And yet, every time I got back from something dangerous, you would act as if I was being stupid and I should never do it again-”

“No! No, no.” He began repeating himself, his fingers tugging at his hair by the roots. “I never wanted you to- It’s just that this job is… I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

She smiled at him, standing up to meet him at… well almost at eye level.

“That’s all I want, Spencer. I want us to be happy. Not afraid of our relationship. I want to be me and not worry about how to make you happy, because you already are. I mean, I’m so happy with you. You just being you.”

“Does this mean… you’re serious? You actually want to get back together?”

“Unless you have a compelling reason not to,” she teased.

Lydia was so distracted by the look of excitement in his eyes, she barely even noticed him getting closer until his lips were pressed against hers.

“Woah,” she mumbled, barely pulling away an inch. “Right to it, then?”

“I’ve wanted to do that for two months,” he admitted. “I really missed you.”

She gave him another peck. “I missed you, too, dumbass.”

~ ~ ~

Tags: @kris-stuff​, @wooya1224, @spencerelds​, @anotherr-fine-mess​

[strawberrymeriadoc]

Just a little drabble. Merry’s feeling sick and explores his feelings for Pippin a bit. 

Merry’s hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure if it comforted him or annoyed him that Peony was just asleep on the kitchen counter like he wasn’t having (what felt like) the biggest crisis of his life. Merry took some medicine to calm down. He reasoned that the throat tightness and pain might have as much to do with anxiety as anything else. 

If Merry could do this night over again he probably would have gone to the house of healing over two hours ago when it first started. But he didn’t want to go. He was terrified of doctors and waiting rooms and being called by his deadname and having to try to back pass. Hopefully it just gets better with time, he thought for the tenth time that night. Merry hadn’t bothered Pippin with this nightmare of a situation. He has his own shit to deal with and he would think I was strange to bring this up so suddenly, Merry reasoned. Merry vowed to call his doctor first thing the next day. 

Merry tried to calm down but he didn’t know how to be calm. He hadn’t been allowed to growing up. One time in college when he was home for break, he went to take a nap and as soon as he lay down he got in trouble with his mother, for even considering such a thing. Sometimes Merry would read while he ate, but as soon as he was done eating he was told he wasn’t allowed to read anymore. And many times he wasn’t allowed to eat to begin with. Merry’s mother took it as a personal insult if Merry wanted more than his allotted 2 meals a day. And she would yell at him and shame him if he ate anywhere near her because she hated the sound. 

Even Jamie had a similar issue. He didn’t begrudge her sensory issues around his eating some foods, but she didn’t have to be so mean about it. He would sometimes be forced to eat in the hallway outside his apartment. As a result, Merry was probably the quietest eater in all of the Westlands though he felt like the loudest. 

Merry shook himself out of his thoughts. He really wanted to say goodnight to his friend. But he realized with his pain he couldn’t talk. But still he came out of his room and knocked on Pippin’s door. “Come in,” Pippin called. Merry smiled and waved and showed him the message he had written on his phone: 

“I can’t talk because im having a terrible flare up in my throat. Im having a really rough night, could i just sit with you?”

 “Sure,” Pippin responded aloud. Merry had planned to sit on the floor, but Pippin motioned for Merry to sit next to him on the bed. Merry felt a small flash of warmth and love.  He sat down next to his friend and hesitantly leaned against Pippin’s shoulder. Pippin leaned into him in response. 

Merry felt a desire to rest his head on Pippin’s shoulder but he restrained himself. He didn’t think Pippin would approve and Merry couldn’t really talk in order to ask. But maybe I could write another message? No, I’m being weird again, he chastened himself. However, before he could stop himself he wrote: “Could i rest my head on your shoulder?”, sat for a minute worrying about it, and then showed it to his friend. “Uh, yeah” Pippin said. 

Merry just felt at home with Pippin. He didn’t want to have sex with him, he wasn’t really sure that romance existed in any way that mattered to him. But he wanted to cuddle Pippin and be close to him and hold his hand. He wanted Pippin to know he cared about him very much. He didn’t know if that still counted as platonic or if it was its own separate thing. Merry had heard of sensual attraction as well as alterous attraction. And something called queerplatonic. Perhaps he was feeling some combination of these things. 

Merry leaned his head on Pippin’s left shoulder. He felt a little awkward at first and worried he was making Pippin uncomfortable. But then Pippin leaned his head on Merry’s and the two sat there in silence not doing anything for a while. Then Peony jumped up on Pippin and they both laughed quietly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Merry woke up to the sun shining through his window. The yellow light burst through in beams that turned the sheets and the wall behind the bed bright white. Merry could hear a few birds chirping.It was around eleven o’clock. Pippin was still asleep on the couch in the living room. His chest rose and fell with his breathing as he dreamed peacefully. Peony was lying in the sun in Pippin’s bedroom. At least someone was making good use of the room.

Outside, Minas Tirith was brimming with life. Merry’s favorite flower shop had been open a few hours and was filled with customers. Its purple and green awning swayed in the breeze. Men of Gondor and Rohan and the occasional dwarf were also streaming in to Pippin’s favorite cafe to try all the different teas and have the bacon and waffles which were especially sought after around brunch time. The occasional student or professor could be seen crossing the campus grounds mainly grad students going to their lab or to the library to work.

Merry sat up in the bed, but he realized he felt rather faint. His throat still hurt tremendously. Let me just try drinking some water, he thought, reaching for the glass by his bed. Merry was starving and he remembered that he hadn’t been able to eat dinner last night because of the pain. Merry was truly sick of all this. He grabbed one of his books that Professor Borormir had assigned and decided to move to the couch in the living room. 

He still wasn’t quite awake but he was certainly not going to chance how his throat might react to coffee. He started reading the book as he was walking--he couldn’t wait to dig in from where he had left off. He went down the hallway, across the living room, turned around, and plopped right on to the couch. Now, Merry was expecting the couch to be somewhat firm, but the couch was actually lumpy and hard in some places and squishy and soft in others. Merry let out a yelp and just as he leapt up, the couch shouted “hurrmmppphhh! geeerraaaa!” Merry was even more mortified than he was startled. 

“Sorry! Sorry, Pippin!” 

“Eru, what was that for?” 

“I didn’t see you!” 

“Didn’t see me? I’m right here!” 

“I know I just...I was reading while I was walking and I’m half asleep” 

“Huh, well I’m not asleep anymore, that woke me right up.” Pippin crossed his arms and scowled. 

Merry’s face and ears had turned bright red. Pippin had never seen him blush. He wasn’t so much mad as he was surprised but he realized how he had come across. 

“Oh Merry…” then he laughed, “It’s alright, you just startled me is all” Merry relaxed. Pippin thought for a moment and realized he was hungry for breakfast.

 “Alright, I’m making omelets, want one?” Pippin asked, whisking off into the kitchen. “Thank you. I wish! But I can’t eat,” Merry said sadly. Pippin stopped what he was doing and turned around. “What do you mean you can’t eat?” he demanded. Pippin was used to his friend struggling with food but this had gone too far for his liking. Then Merry explained more about his throat pain that had flared up the night before and how he had attempted to eat a small dinner and that had tremendously backfired. “I just need to wait it out until I can go to the doctor tomorrow afternoon,” he finished. 

“I could help you with that if you like!” Pippin offered. Merry didn’t know how to respond. People didn’t really tend to offer to help him. He felt thankful but a bit ashamed, after all, he didn’t want to trouble Pippin. But right now he needed to say something that adequately showed he appreciated the thought even if he didn’t know how to take him up on it. 

“Thanks!” he started, “I...uh...just knowing that you’re there for me really helps”. 

“Why don’t I make you some soup, you should be able to manage that at least” Merry wasn’t so confident, but he was too famished to care. 

“That would be lovely,” Merry replied. 

Pippin had noticed that “lovely” was the highest form of praise Merry would give anything. He would use “good”, “great” or even “amazing” and “fantastic”. But none of them meant so much as “lovely”.  

After he ate the soup, Merry distracted himself from the pain by running a load of laundry and starting the dishwasher. It also seemed to help his throat to stand up. Then the hobbit went out and stood on the balcony for a while. 

The street below was fairly busy. Most people were walking, but a few rode bikes and even fewer rode horses. Then Merry saw coming over the rise a small company of Men on horseback. All the horses were black and the man at the forefront carried a rounded shield. Merry guessed they were Men returning from their shift on patrol on the outskirts of Gondor along the Anduin.

Merry thought about his horse Sorin. Well, not his horse. He supposed they were all Theoden’s. But the one that he rode every week. The hobbit hoped that he would be able to go riding in a few days and that things would clear up. 

But, Merry began to feel very hopeless indeed and thought about how much easier things would be if he just ended it all. A much smaller voice in his mind pushed back: It’s just a passing thing. You’ll feel better soon. You don’t want to make a decision that you can’t unmake! Besides, there is good in this world. There is. It’s worth fighting to stay alive for. 

But Merry thought about what was really in his life and he didn’t see anything good, certainly nothing that convinced him. He felt truly hopeless. But once back inside, he felt a change. Something about the laundry machine and the dishwasher running quietly in the kitchen calmed him. There’s something good, he mused. 

Pippin was still a little flustered from being sat on and then hearing about his friend’s sickness. He had made an omelet with cheese and red peppers in it and enjoyed a cup of green tea and now he was deciding what to wear for the day. He rummaged around in his closet and eventually settled on a white button down shirt with red pants. 

This needs a belt, Pippin thought, grabbing a light brown one with an ornate silver buckle. Pippin didn’t have anything to do until his lab started after around dinnertime. I’ve got to get out of here, he thought, maybe there’s a museum or a bookshop I can go to? I wish Frodo and Sam were here, we could all go together. Pippin didn’t want to go alone, but he guessed that Merry would be too sick to go with him. That’s right, he thought, kicking himself, I said that I’d help him. 

Pippin was still deciding what to do exactly when he went back into the living room. “You wouldn’t want to go somewhere, would you?” Pippin asked hopefully. Merry, who had been dissociating while standing at the kitchen counter, started. “Aah--what?” he centered himself, “I don’t know. Like where were you thinking?” “Oh I don’t know. Maybe the new bookshop next to campus? It looked pretty cool when I walked by”

Merry frowned. “I’m not sure I can afford any books right now.”

“Hmm, well it’s a second-hand bookshop, so it should be better anyway���

Merry perked up. “Oh I love used bookstores. They always have the weirdest stuff. I like to look at the really obscure books that you kind of can’t believe would ever need to be written or read.”

“Excellent! Well let’s go shall we?”

After Merry quickly got dressed, he said goodbye to Peony and joined his friend by the door. Stepping out into the crisp Autumn air, the two linked arms and walked up the winding side street lined with orange-leaved Plane trees. 

[isitgintimeyet]

Letting Go

AO3

Previous

So, nearing the end of the story now, three more chapters to go. Thanks for sticking with it, I do appreciate it.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta.

Thanks to @happytoobserve for the encouragement

Thanks to you all for reading

Chapter 13: Doctor, Doctor

Oh, Doctor, doctor, can't you see I'm burning, burning Oh, Doctor, doctor, is this love I'm feeling? Ships at night give such delight We all leave before the morning light Please don't go no please don't go Cause I don't want to stay here on my own

Tom Bailey, Alannah Currie, Joe Leeway

Claire rubbed her eyes and stretched, contemplating yet another cup of coffee. Her eyes were tired from staring at her laptop screen for hours, studying the data and reading about hospitals in Manchester, Birmingham, Chicago and Melbourne. All had potential opportunities suitable for her, she just had to be willing to make that leap.

*********

Eight Years Ago

“Do ye ever think about moving away, tae another country?”

“Not really. Everything I want… need… love is here.”

“And what’s that, then?”

“My medical training… my uncle… and you, my heart. Why, do you?”

“It’s a big old world out there, Sassenach. Lots tae see. But I canna imagine settling down anywhere but Scotland… I love ye, Sassenach. I want ye with me always.Ye ken that… and I ken I always will.”

*****

She hadn’t yet spoken to her uncle about leaving. She’d already had to deliver one piece of bad news -- the duplicity of Malva and Frank. She was waiting for that to be fully digested before talking to him about moving away.

Although, to be honest, Lamb had taken that news better than she had expected. Malva’s approach to academic research had always been at odds with his own more traditional style. Even though he disliked any personal confrontation with his students, Mrs. Fitz had encouraged Lamb to have a ‘chat’ with her, suggesting that perhaps Malva might be better suited working with another member of the faculty -- Dr. Randall, for example, who, although lacking in field research experience, may share the same ‘values’ as she.

According to Mrs. Fitz, the conversation with Dr. Randall had been decidedly more serious. Whilst Lamb may have been open to working collaboratively with him, Frank’s underhanded tactics ensured that now he would never share his research. Lamb had decided, much to Mrs. Fitz’s annoyance, not to report Frank’s behaviour to the university board, not wanting to destroy the younger man’s career. He would, however, Mrs. Fitz was assured, keep a close eye on the publications under the name of Dr. Frank Randall.

A knock at the door roused Claire from her daydreaming. Peering briefly through the keyhole, she let John in.

“Hi, how are you? Fancy a gin and tonic? I’m sure it’s after five somewhere in the world.” Claire headed into the kitchen.

“Sure. Although, after so many years up in Scotland, I’d have thought your taste would run more to whisky. Do you not like it?”

“Well, has to be the right time, right place for me to enjoy a glass.” ...and right person, she added silently.

Claire returned to the living room with the drinks and settled herself next to John on the sofa.

John took a sip before continuing the conversation. “Anna’s coming home tomorrow. Mary just rang to tell me. Her progress has been nothing short of miraculous, apparently. She won’t be going back to work for a few more weeks, but to be in her own bed, in her own home is sure to help her recovery.”

“This gin is lovely, by the way. And with the cucumber… nice touch.” John took another large gulp. “Anyway, Mary said that Anna hopes to see us tomorrow afternoon and she’s got a secret to share with us.”

A fit of coughing from Claire forced John to put his drink down and slap Claire on the back a couple of times. Eventually, the coughing stopped and Claire wiped her eyes.

“Sorry,” she croaked. “Went down the wrong way. Secret, you say?”

“Yes, that’s what Mary said. I’m thinking there’s a man involved. Can’t wait for the goss.”

Claire closed her eyes and tried to keep her breathing calm. Please, no. Not that. Not Jamie and Anna. Could that relationship not wait until she had moved away? Out of sight, out of mind, although that clearly hadn’t worked too well for her in the past.

“So, talking of goss, I met with Frank this week. He said you two aren’t seeing each other any more. That true? He didn’t want to tell me any more about it and I was dying to ask.”

“Yes. He seemed nice enough, but… but... he’s not the man for me. No point in trying to pretend.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I could see you two together, but if there’s no chemistry…?”

John looked at Claire, who shook her head vehemently, her curls flapping over her eyes. She pushed them back impatiently.

“John,” she began hesitantly, wondering how best to phrase this. “There is something else. About Frank, I mean. I know you’re talking to him about a book, but… well... I’ll just say it and then it’s up to you. You know my uncle is an archaeology professor at the university?”

Claire waited for John to respond with a nod before continuing.

“Frank knew that. I think he went out with me to get to Uncle Lamb’s research, for his book.”

“No… he was keen on you, I could tell.”

“After we stopped seeing each other, I found him, hiding in my Uncle's office, notebook in hand, opening cabinets, taking papers. He’d even enlisted Lamb’s grad student in his search.”

Claire felt a wave of embarrassment as she admitted this to John. The thought of being used preyed on her mind, even though Frank had denied that.

“Lamb doesn’t want to take this any further with the university. But I felt I should warn you. When… if… you publish his book, be very careful of the sources, make sure they’re all credited, otherwise, well…”

John took Claire’s hand and stroked it gently. “Thank you for telling me that. It’s a lot to think about. And, irrespective of your uncle, I know Frank was interested in you, Claire Beauchamp, for you. You are a wonderful person. Anyone can see that.”

Claire blinked the tears away as John, with a final affectionate pat of her hand, stood up.

“And on that note, sorry to drink and run, but I’ve got a date tonight and I need to prepare. See you tomorrow afternoon. About three, Mary said.”

John placed his empty glass on the table next to Claire’s laptop. His eyes were unintentionally drawn to the screen, clearly displaying the half composed email from Claire to a colleague in Manchester, enquiring about a recent job advertisement.

“Claire, you’re not thinking of leaving us are you?” John blurted out without thinking. “Er… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to read that, it was accidental, but surely not.”

“I’m looking at possibilities, yes. It may well be time for me to move. Nothing definite yet though. John, please don’t mention this to Anna or Mary, will you?” Claire moved next to John.

“Of course not.” John placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek. “Mum’s the word. And thanks for letting me know about Frank. You’ve definitely given me something to think about… see you tomorrow.”

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

The living room was filled with flowers on every available surface. Claire wondered, as she followed John into the room, which of the elaborate arrangements was from Jamie, but now was not the time to flit from vase to vase trying to read the cards.

Anna greeted Claire warmly as she bent down to kiss Anna’s cheek then settled herself on the sofa next to her.

“Oh, Claire. It’s so good to be home.”

Anna’s voice was stronger now. The cast had been removed from her arm and the injury to her cheek had healed completely without the need for surgery.

“I’ve missed you all so much... I’ve missed proper coffee, I’ve missed Indian takeaways, I’ve missed chilled white wine… watching tv on a decent sized screen… privacy… fresh air. But most of all, I’ve missed my own bed. I’ve been longing to stretch out in a double bed with freshly laundered sheets and…” Anna stopped abruptly.

“Go on, what?” John encouraged, but Anna just shrugged and shook her head.

“I must say, you’re looking really well, Anna.” Claire hastily changed the subject, fearing to hear what, or who, Anna had been longing for.

“That’s always good to hear from a doctor. Second opinion and all that.”

“So you’re no longer under the neurology specialist at Stirling?”

Anna gave a slight chuckle. “No, I’ve been discharged. Transferred to the neurology department here in Glasgow for follow up appointments as an outpatient.”

The clinking of glasses announced the arrival of Mary, precariously balancing a tray of champagne flutes, strawberries, an ice bucket and two bottles of champagne.

******

Eight years ago

“Jamie, it’s a lovely gesture but what’s the champagne and strawberries for?”

“Do ye no’ remember? It’s our anniversary…”

“But that's next week.”

“Aye, next week is the anniversary of our first date. Tonight is the anniversary of the party where I met ye.”

“So champagne  and strawberries next week as well?”

“Mebbe… and then the week after that it’s the anniversary of the first time we… er… spent the night together.”

“Champagne for that too?”

“Nah, I’ve a mind fer another way tae celebrate that altogether. Jes’ ye and me and nae clothes.”

“Mmm, but I think maybe some champagne could come in… er… very handy in that situation.”

“Sassenach, ye’re a wanton woman… I like yer thinking.”

********

Dropping a strawberry into each glass, Mary passed the champagne bottle to John.

“Can you do the honours, John?”

John quickly removed the foil and wire and efficiently twisted the bottle until, with a slight pop, it was opened.

“It’s so much more dramatic when you pop it with a big flourish and the champagne gushes out,” Anna complained with a sigh.

“Ah, but think of the waste of good…” John consulted the label. “... ‘Veuve Monsigny bottled for Aldi’ champagne, my dear.”

John poured the champagne. “Hang on, there’s five glasses here. Are we expecting someone else?”

“Have you not told them yet, Anna?” Mary handed a glass to Claire and Anna.

Anna shook her head. “I was waiting.”

Claire suddenly felt hot. Beads of sweat began to prickle at the back of her neck, and her stomach seemed to be tying itself in knots. She gazed at her glass, watching the tiny bubbles moving and popping in the pale liquid.

“Waiting for what?” John asked impatiently. “Come on, Anna. Tell us your secret. I’m guessing it’s a chap. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Claire fixed a smile on her face and waited for Anna’s response.

Before Anna could say anything, there was a knock at the front door.

“I can’t believe that. Perfect timing,” Anna laughed. “Mary, would you mind getting that, please?

It only took Mary a few seconds to open the front door, but, to Claire, it seemed like an eternity. As Mary returned with the new arrival, Claire plucked up the courage and  looked into the face of… a man she’d never seen before. Straight dark hair, not ginger curls… slim and average height, not tall and broad… a thick dark beard, not neatly trimmed stubble. A  wave of relief engulfed her. She let out an audible sigh, unaware she had been holding her breath. John glanced across, puzzled.

Anna slowly got up from the settee and stood next to the newcomer. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him.

“Everyone, this is Douglas. Douglas, this is John from downstairs and Claire from across the landing… and Mary you know, obviously. Douglas is a doctor in the Neurology department at Stirling.”

Claire stood up and extended her hand. “Douglas, nice to meet you.”

John smiled. “So this is your big secret, Anna? But… er…”

Anna passed a glass to Douglas. “I know what you are thinking, John, but it’s ok. Douglas wasn’t really my doctor and the Neurology department at Stirling have transferred me here. So he’s not involved in anything to do with me. Besides, nothing’s gone on, we’ve only been talking up to now. We’re taking it slow. That's ok, isn’t it, Claire? Douglas won’t get into any trouble?”

“I think you’re pretty safe. He’s not going to be up for misconduct if that’s what you mean. As long as he’s not involved in your treatment.”

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

Claire lay in bed and thought about the events of the afternoon. Anna looked so healthy… and happy. She believed she’d found her ‘kindred spirit’, as Anne of Green Gables would say. Claire really hoped that was the case. Douglas appeared to be a decent man and was clearly very fond of Anna already. Mary had confided in Claire that, although it didn’t seem to be a case of a vulnerable patient falling for their healer, she would be keeping a ‘watchful eye’ over the relationship just in case.

Sleep was eluding her this evening. Hundreds of thoughts kept crowding into her mind, battling for position… Anna and Douglas… Jamie… Frank and Malva… Uncle Lamb… Jamie… moving away…

Claire rolled over, trying to find a cool spot in the bed.

**********

Nine years ago

“Jamie, it’s February. The heating’s off, you’ve nothing on and you’re still radiating heat like a… a…”

“Radiator? Aye, weel, I’ve always been hot blooded, ye ken. Suppose it’s from ma ancestors. If ye have tae sleep in the heather with only yer plaid fer warmth, it helps tae have internal heating.”

“Can I put my… oh that's better.”

“Christ, woman, yer feet are like blocks of ice on me. Why are they so cold?”

“Well, I could wear bed socks. Would you like that?”

“Hmmm… jes’ yer Mickey Mouse bed socks and nothing else?”

“Jamie Fraser, is that turning you on? It is, isn’t it?”

“Come here, Sassenach, I’ll get ye hot all over.”

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

Thoughts of Jamie kept pushing to the forefront of her mind. Claire was sure he would be devastated by the news of Anna and Douglas. She could understand that feeling only too well… how she felt when she thought it would be Jamie and Anna.

Still, one thing was now clear in her mind. She had to get away… before Jamie started a new relationship for real.

[spidergwenstefani]

Finals Week

This is a really self-indulgent semi sequel to this ficlet I wrote a little while ago about theatre major Bucky and frat bro Clint. Apparently this is gonna be the AU i use for pointless fluffy comfort now bc I’m stressed with finals essays and these boys are helping.

I definitely shifted some background characters around since the last fic sorry steve but i don’t super care so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bucky spins his desk chair around in a lazy circle, watching the moon shining through his apartment window blur into a bright stripe with the rest of his surroundings. Someone on the floor above him has tuned their Spotify to some kind of low-fi study playlist, and Bucky feels genuinely relaxed for the first time in… months, actually.

This last week has been rough. Nearly all of his finals ended up scheduled on the same Friday and Natasha had to actually hold him back from leaping out the library window on Thursday night. It worked out alright. The Lighting Design 201 presentation had gone off shockingly well, the History of Stage Design final was way easier than expected, and his group project for Gender in Shakespeare really pulled through in the end. He half-assed the conclusion for his Dramaturgy essay, but there was only so much he could say about August Wilson without the professor realizing he was just spitting his class notes back at him. So now he’s done. A whole five days before the semester ends, too. It feels like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off Bucky’s shoulders. He hums along to the slow jam echoing down from his upstairs neighbor, scooping up his phone to check his messages.

Nat (3 hours ago) Congrats on being done with finals

Nat (3 hours ago) If you didn’t turn that gd Fences essay in on time I will climb in through your window and strangle you in your sleep

Steve (2 hours ago) Hey! Me and some buddies were planning on going out for pizza around 7 tomorrow. Do you wanna come with? You can bring Clint so you don’t have to listen to grad students all night.

Steve (2 hours ago) Please say yes. I don’t want to listen to grad students all night.

Nat (42 minutes ago) Have you heard from Clint? He hasn’t answered my texts in hours. Not sure if I should be concerned

Nat (40 minutes ago) Send him a dick pic and see if that gets a response

Clint (3 minutes ago) im fckin dropping uot

Bucky ignores Steve and Natasha for now, typing out a quick response to Clint.

Bucky Well I’m done with finals

Bucky Can I convince you to stay in college with some fantastic Fuck Dramaturgy victory sex?

Clint i dont kno what htat is

Bucky I’ve explained Dramaturgy to you like five times

Clint i cant remembr

Clint what day is it

Clint bucky im dyin :’(

Bucky rolls his eyes, grabbing the keys off his desk and pulling on his sneakers. He would have preferred to avoid the Greek side of campus today if at all possible, but he has an idiot boyfriend to console.

Bucky omw

>>==========>

Beta Theta Pi is, as far as frat houses go, not the absolute worst. It had still been kind of a shock when Bucky realized Clint actually lives up to his frat bro vibes. Not only lives up to them but embraces them with the same enthusiasm Clint has for any other thing he cares about. Bucky could probably do PR for the Beta charity drives by now after how much Clint has gushed about them. Lord knows he’d do a better job than fucking Pietro.

Bruce answers the door on Bucky’s third knock, looking surprised to see him and vaguely stoned.

“Bucky?” he says after he gets a few blinks out of his system. Bucky wonders if it’s such a good idea to be smoking in his letterman jacket. Coach Fury’s been known to have a nose like a bloodhound. “Clint didn’t say you were coming over.”

“Has he said anything at all in the last twelve hours?” Bucky asks, shouldering past Bruce because he knows he won’t move on his own. Bruce is actually his favorite of Clint’s brothers. He’s chiller than any offensive lineman has a right to be. He does yoga, for fuck's sake. It’s probably the copious amounts of weed that mellow him out in the end, though.

“I dunno,” Bruce says, still blinking his way back to the present. He gives Bucky a slow smile as he shuts the door behind them. “Do you want tea? I made tea.”

“Maybe later,” Bucky says, because he’s just spotted Rumlow studying at the dining table and that’s the one Beta guy he genuinely doesn’t want to see today. He heads for the stairs.

“Wanna play Smash Bros?” Bruce asks as Bucky bolts for the second floor.

“Maybe later,” he shouts over his shoulder.

Clint’s room is at the far end of the hallway, and Bucky frowns at the closed door. Clint’s the kind of endearingly codependent guy that keeps his door open unless absolutely necessary, never wanting to miss out on anything that might be blocked by a thin layer of wood.

He knocks more as a warning than anything, letting himself in and shutting the door softly behind him. All the lights are off and nothing but moonlight illuminates Clint spread dramatically across the floor, staring up at his ceiling fan like he’s hoping it’ll fall on him.

“Fucking Christ,” Bucky mutters, mostly because he’s not sure Clint even heard him come in.

“I’m gonna die,” Clint answers from the floor. “Statistics is actually gonna kill me.”

“You can’t die,” Bucky says, leaning back against the door. “My mom will be crushed if I don’t bring you home for spring break.” The moonlight is making the angles of Clint’s face look especially soft, and Bucky takes a moment to watch him pout before sinking down onto the floor.

“No, it’s too late. I’m dying,” Clint says, shifting to make room on the rug as Bucky crawls over to him. He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and plants a quick kiss on his forehead before turning his glazed look back up at the ceiling fan. “You’ll come to my funeral, right?”

“Obviously,” Bucky snorts, sliding his hands under Clint’s t-shirt. He knows his fingers are ice cold, but Clint doesn’t even flinch.

“Wear black, okay? Something sexy, so my enemies get jealous of the hot piece of ass I bagged before kicking the bucket.”

“Should I cry?” Clint hasn’t seen Bucky act yet, but he’s totally going to audition for The Laramie Project next semester and blow his fucking mind.

“As much as possible. Maybe mention how much you’ll miss my massive dick.”

“I will,” Bucky says emphatically. He looks up at the ceiling fan and takes a deep breath, doing his best to bring tears to his eyes. “I’ll never love another dick as much as I loved his.” Bucky’s voice comes out impressively choked up. “I’m cursed to a life of longing. The only man who can satisfy me is lost forever.” Bucky blinks a single tear down his cheek, and Clint’s staring at him when he finally turns back.

“Holy shit,” Clint says, moving to wipe at Bucky’s cheeks like he’s actually worried about him. “Do exactly that, please. When did you learn how to cry on command?”

“When my third sister was born,” Bucky answers smugly. “I didn’t appreciate how much more attention tutus and pigtails got, so I had to find my own edge.”

“Becca’s sent me a few pictures that say you still cashed in on tutus and pigtails.” Clint rolls onto his side so he can face Bucky better, pulling him closer with a hand around his waist.

“I rocked those butterfly clips better than she could ever dream,” Bucky says, and Clint buries his laugh in Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky runs a hand up and down Clint’s back. “What day is your Stats final?” That earns him a despondent groan.

“Monday. I’m so gonna fail.” Clint’s voice is muffled by Bucky’s sweatshirt. “Why the fuck did I decide on a Business major?”

“Because you’re smart,” Bucky insists. Clint shakes his head weakly against his shoulder and Bucky smacks him lightly on the arm. “You are. You’re smart and practical, and once you have your diploma you and Nat can move to New York and open your gym.”

Clint mumbles something into his sweatshirt that Bucky doesn’t quite catch.

“What?” he asks, and he tugs the back of Clint’s shirt just enough to get him to scoot backward and speak clearly.

“I said you’ll be there too,” Clint repeats, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Bucky’s side and making an effort to keep his eyes anywhere but on Bucky’s. “Designing costumes on Broadway. Having a meltdown every other day.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says, and Clint looks up long enough to give him a hesitant smile. “And on tech week I’ll gripe to you all night long and make you rub my feet.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Clint says, and his voice is too soft to be joking. Bucky leans forward to kiss him. Clint brings his hand up to Bucky’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheek while they lose themselves for a moment or two.

“It’ll be awesome,” Bucky says once he’s pulled away. “And all you have to do is pass one dumb Stats final. It’s all easy street after that.”

“No it’s not,” Clint says, but his face doesn’t seem quite as pinched with worry. Bucky shrugs one shoulder.

“Maybe not, but this is all you have to think about right now. And even if you don’t pass, which you will, Momma Barnes will be waiting at the train station, ready to fill that void of disappointment with cookies and brisket. They offer Stats over the summer. You can even get Bruce to help you study.”

Clint smiles a little easier and presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“Bruce offered to help me study earlier this week, actually.” Bucky raises his eyebrows at him.

“And you’re not taking him up on it? Bruce is pretty much Einstein. You know that, right? What are you doing in here when you could be getting schooled on Stats in the library?”

“Well, you’re here,” Clint says and Bucky just knows his smile goes all dopey at that. “And I think even Einstein would struggle with Stats after smoking that much weed.”

“You’ll study with him tomorrow though, right?” Bucky’s not going to let Clint throw him off that easy. Clint rolls his eyes, but he nods. “Steve invited us to get pizza tomorrow. I’ll pay, as a reward for studying.”

“Steve invited us, or Steve invited you?” Clint asks, scrunching up his nose. Bucky snorts, shoving at Clint half-heartedly.

“Steve invited us. To go out with him and his friends. I dunno why you hate him so much. He thinks you’re pretty cool.”

“I don’t hate him,” Clint says defensively, but he still shifts forward to wrap his arms possessively around Bucky. “I just want to make sure he knows that the position of Bucky’s Buff Blond Boyfriend is already happily filled. Also, fuck him. I’m really cool.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky says. He’s kind of stuck in Clint’s steel trap of a hug. “It’s not like that. First of all, I don’t date grad students, and second of all we totally have more of a big brother-little brother sort of thing going on. I think he’s more into Tony, anyway.”

“Aw, gross,” Clint laughs, letting Bucky out of his death grip. “They deserve each other.”

“People probably say the same thing about us,” Bucky says. Clint grins at him, opening his mouth to share some kind of smart-ass response. A knock on the door cuts him off and makes them both jump.

“Do you guys have pants on?” Bruce’s voice comes through the door way louder than necessary. “If you don’t, sorry. Keep doing your thing or whatever. We’re starting a new Smash tournament, though, if you wanna join.”

“No, Bruce. C’mon man,” Bucky hears Sam say, and there’s the sound of scuffling feet like Sam’s trying to yank Bruce back from the door. “They’re probably having their own Smash tournament in there.”

“Bucky would have invited me,” Bruce insists, and Clint sits up with a laugh.

“We have pants on, Bruce,” he calls, and the door opens a moment later.

“Are you guys just sitting in the dark?” Bruce frowns down at Bucky, who’s still sprawled across the rug.

“Yeah,” Clint says, and then because he catches Bucky’s meaningful look, “Are you busy tomorrow? Think you could help me with Stats?”

“Yeah,” Bruce says, smiling easily. Bucky thinks Clint looks relieved, like he actually thought Bruce might say no. “We can go to the library.”

“Alright, Bruce.” Bucky stands up, offering a hand and hauling Clint to his feet too. “Let’s smash. I call the pink controller.”

[whirlybirbs]

                          PREVIOUSLY ON #BITTERCOFFEE | THE MASTERLIST

summary: #bittercoffee. in which the reader is ghosted after the date with bucky and tony stark is to blame. but, an internship opportunity at the tower has her ready to bite back. rating: mild swearing and a brainiac reader. fight me. word count: 1.6k a/n: my bittercoffee!reader is about to fuck shit up. sorry for the lack of buck-o in this one. he’s coming up next part. enjoy!

Bucky doesn’t come in for coffee the next morning.

And when you text him, wondering sweetly if maybe he had “avenging to do”, your text is met with silence. Nothing. You don’t text him again until late that night when you’ve hiked back from the shop in the rain. You ride the subway in silence. You have your earbuds in. No music. Your body rocks with the train. Your fingers move quick across your phone screen.

I hope everything’s okay?

You make it to your apartment, sad and somber and angry. You’re soaked to the bone and weighed down. The growing anxiety that Bucky had decided you weren’t worth his time, or maybe he didn’t like you enough was eating away at you, and though it feels childish, you cry. It’s muffled into the sleeve of your NYU sweatshirt.

Marissa comes in, having heard the quieted sobs, and offers you some microwaved pizza. You decline, to sick on sadness to think about eating.

“Sometimes boys just don’t work out,” she said, “No matter how much we like them.”

You look like hell, and the next morning? Still nothing. No texts, no Bucky. The coffee shop is slow and empty thanks to the rain. You feel the same way. You try not to let Matt into the inner turmoil, but he knows something’s not right.

You push the feelings down and away and pretend you’re fine.

You do for the whole week.

And then you begin to think you’re never going to see Bucky Barnes again.

Until, one night, on your walk back from campus, you notice you’re being followed. It’s a taxi - or at least you’d thought - until it follows you to the subway stop and a man in a suit steps out. He’s bigger, no older than his mid-forties, looking less than pleased with the rain. He sits in the same subway cart as you, gets off at the same stop. He walks past your apartment, though, and from your dining room window you watch him climb into another car. A black Lincoln.

The license plate reads ‘HAPPY’.

The back window has a Stark Industries decal on it.

You begin to notice more of strange little things like this - the same man comes in and gets coffee one morning. You pretend you have no idea who he is, but your heart rate is pounding and you’re half-convinced he’s going to gun you down at register one.

He doesn't though. He sits, he watches, he sips his coffee. You think maybe this is some kind of intimidation play.

You stand your ground though; you even bus his table, smiling and asking him how his day is.

When he’s leaving, you snap a picture of him, pretending to snapchat, and you save it.

Sniped.

You reverse image search him when you get home that night and land a positive ID. You’re hunched over coffee and the notes surrounding your midterm thesis paper around integrated militarized biotech. The blue light of your laptop illuminates the room, and you cheer, mouth full of popcorn, when you nail his name down.

You think maybe Bucky would be proud of you. You’re a good sidekick. But, well, that ship has sailed. Your heart hurts a little bit thinking about him.

The guy from the shop is Harold Hogan. Personal bodyguard and trainer to the one and only Tony Stark.

You begin to note more Stark property along your walk to work. The building across from you has been bought out. Apparently some housing project Stark is working on. You learn to look at the license plates. The Avengers Tower decal for parking is minuscule but apparent if you know where to look. It includes security clearance.

You’re clearly being watched.

And then your wifi starts to act up, too. Through some more backwards engineering, you delve into the internal system codes of the apartment router and find that a external proxy has been set up. Your cookies, data, history and any and all saved files are being copied and routed to an apartment in Queens. You get the IP address. You track it to a May Parker.

No doubt a relation to Peter Parker.

No doubt you were being watched thanks to that Stark Internship.

You call Bucky that night, curse him out on his voicemail - it’s long winded and angry and maybe you had a little bit too much wine - and tell him to tell Stark to fuck off. You don’t hear anything back, but you’re sure someone got the message -- if anything, Stark probably tapped into your cell long ago.

Things are starting to stack up against Iron Man.

You’re starting to think maybe there’s a reason why you haven’t seen Bucky Barnes. That reason has got to be Tony Stark.

You’re not sure why, but you can’t let it go. You know deep down it’s because you like Bucky far too much for it to just slip your mind. You didn’t date often -- and Bucky was pretty. Handsome and funny and shy and… Sad. You find yourself worrying about him, wondering if he’s walking around Brooklyn late at night, trying to find himself. You hope he’s okay. You regret telling him he ‘fucking sucks’ on his voicemail the other night.

So, you start to formulate a plan. You think about sauntering right into the Tower downtown, strolling up the reception and asking for Tony Stark -- but no doubt the man was busy, and there was no guarantee security wouldn’t drag you out kicking and screaming when they explained he wasn’t there and no, you couldn’t speak to him.

Email was a no-go. He’d probably just ignore it. Phone, too.

You could knock on Peter Parker’s door and interrogate the high schooler for information on why you’re being watched. But, you knew why you were being watched -- it was because you knew too much about Bucky Barnes.

Then, when you think you’re shit bum out of luck, an opportunity falls into your lap. Trips and lands. You catch it by the throat.

Your last class of this particular Thursday is a lab; normally running about four hours, it leaves you hungry and tired and wanting nothing more than to bolt home and kick start your homework. Though working on your actual conceptualized thesis is fun, time seems to drag on.

But, today, you were talking internships.

“You know,” your professor’s name is Sarah -- she insists you call her Sarah -- and she’s sweet. The class is dominated by men mostly, so she excitedly chatters with you when she can. You like it. Sarah leans against your lab bench after the small lecture. You’re soldering some wires together on the mechanisms functions panel, “I have a certain internship in mind for you.”

“Oh?” you say, a smile tugging at your face, “Please, enlighten me.”

Sarah laughs. “I got an email earlier this week… NYU typically isn’t one of the Universities gets these type of offers, but… Stark Industries is looking to hire.”

You feel the color drain from your face. “Stark Industries, huh?”

“They’re looking for medical students, actually,” she murmurs, “But, I want you to apply. You’re biomedical and you’re great, so if anything, they’ll be even more interested.”

“Have you… put my name down on anything yet?”

Please say no, please say no.

“No,” she says and you nearly cheer, “But, the interviews are next Monday -- are you interested? I can always email them back --”

“No!”

Sarah nearly jumps back.

“I mean -- yes, I’m interested,” you reassure her, gloved hand touching the sleeve of her lab coat, “I’m just thinking maybe don’t let them know who I am or my major or...? They might discriminate because of the medical thing…”

Totally not because of other reasons.

“Right!” Sarah hums, “You’re so right. And the best part? You’ll be surprising Tony Stark.”

You nearly laugh in her face. “Are you saying…”

“He’s doing the interviews -- some special involvement campaign, I guess. He wants to get to know our grads, get to know who he’s hiring. After the whole H.Y.D.R.A. infiltration thing, it makes sense. A lot of grads have turned it down, but I can dig up some recommendations for you. You can bring them with you --”

“Please do,” you grin, hands clasped in a tight ball, “You’re the best.”

Sarah grins, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she claps you on the shoulders. “I’m so excited!”

Me too, Sarah. Me too.

It’s 8:30 am, Monday morning.

Marissa is looking at you like you have three heads.

You’re tugging on your patent leather heels, sweeping your hair into a professional looking bun. The romper you have on is black with a dipping neckline -- your blazer is bright red. You feel like you could kill a man with a single look. It’s a confidence boost. You need all the help you’re going to get.

“So... you’re meeting with Tony Stark. For the internship.”

“Well,” you mumble, bobby pin between your teeth as you fix your bun, “Not really.”

Marissa blinks down at your resume. In fine print, along the top, under your name, it reads:

‘Please, ask me about my slideshow!’

“You… You have a slideshow.”

You swivel your laptop across the kitchen counter. The screen glows alive with the slideshow in question.

Marissa’s jaw drops. She reads from the title slide.

“Why I’d Like Tony Stark to Fuck Off?”

You shoot her an award winning smile, sweeping your resume and faux cover letter into a protective cover. It slips neatly into your handbag and you yank the memory drive from your laptop as well.

“Is this some activism stuff?” she mumbles, “Anti-Avengers propaganda?”

You pause.

“Sure.”

And with that, you’re out the door. Behind you, Marissa shouts.

“Let me know if I have to bail you out of jail!”

TAG LIST:

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[coleymari-blog]

Cyber Space is Always Sweeter : Chapter 13

SUMMARY: LUCY IS A DOWN TO EARTH, STUDIOUS, RESPONSIBLE RUNAWAY ATTENDING MAGNOLIA COLLEGE. NATSU IS A RAMBUNCTIOUS, INTELLIGENT, PYROPHILIC FRATERNITY BOY GOING TO THE SAME SCHOOL.

THEY DON’T EXACTLY RUN IN THE SAME CIRCLES AND THEY HAVE ONE HELL OF A HISTORY. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE NAMES AND FACADES DISAPPEAR AND ALL THAT’S LEFT ARE WORDS BLINKING ON A SCREEN? MODERN DAY, COLLEGE/PEN PALS AU. I’M SORRY I SUCK AT INTROS. RATED M FOR LANGUAGE, ADULT SITUATIONS, AND FUTURE SEXUAL SITUATIONS. CHAPTERS 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Friday had arrived and Lucy was nowhere near prepared for it.

Sure, she'd studied the hell out of her materials, including the study guide Natsu had sent her, but that didn't make her feel any more ready for her tutoring session. The freshman had been worried about it all week, especially after her late night walk with her TA after getting locked inside the library.  After a few painfully quiet minutes, she’d been surprised at how easily they’d slipped into a comfortable conversation about her classes, and about the other class he co-teaches with Professor Makarov. Lucy hadn’t expected the boy-like charm he possessed and it only added to the soft spot she already had for the older student.

Natsu had walked her all the way up to the door of her dorm, regardless of the fact that it was five flights up. He had insisted so fervently that her Resident Advisor, Juvia, had threatened to throw him out of the lobby. She hardly minded when Natsu asked to use the stairs, taking it as an excuse to spend more time with him. When they arrived at her door, a moment of silence passed between them before she thanked him for making sure she got home safely and made her way inside. The blonde stood by her front door briefly while she reminded herself how to breathe. Honestly, she hadn’t even missed Dragon’s company all that much while out on her adventure with Natsu, which surprised her immensely given their history.

Tuesday was strange. Natsu wasn’t in Lab and was replaced by a guy named Gray. Instead of working on their “unconventional s’more” project, they were dipping things in liquid nitrogen and learning about the molecular changes in the different items when exposed. She could have sworn that the replacement stole a couple of glances at her but she chalked it up to the fact that she was looking particularly cute that morning for an event at the Library. Or so she claimed when she’d spent two hours before lab trying on various outfits. She’d spent the day in class, at the Library, and in her dorm, all while chatting with Dragon. The only time they’d been out of communication was while he was teaching and when they'd both fallen asleep with phones in hand.

Wednesday came and went mostly due to the fact that Professor Makarov had canceled class for an unknown reason. So the two girls settled themselves in one of their hidden study-nooks in the Library until it was time for Lucy’s shift to start. Natsu had bumped into her, literally, on his way to Gods knew where but had rushed off without much of an explanation. She figured it was probably Greek related and paid it no mind while she went about her night. Homework consumed what little energy she had left before knocking out. Thursday flew past between classes and finishing off the extra work she had for tutoring. She'd even stopped by the Cait Shelter house and hung out with Levy and some of her sisters. Wendy, Lucy’s roommate, had gone too and was determined on becoming a member.

When Friday afternoon came, Lucy was practically a nervous wreck. Again, no outfit looked good enough. She'd done her make up at least four times. She wasn’t stupid, she knew it was because of a certain salmon-haired TA (he’d been quick to correct her Monday night), however, she still couldn’t stop herself. Even her phone chirping away wasn’t enough to break her concentration. She did pause in order to check and was glad she did. Maybe Dragon would be able to distract her.

Dragon: Hey Weirdo, got plans tonight? Or is it you, me, and random kitten videos again?

Biting on her bottom lip slightly, Lucy pondered her reply. The more they spoke, the more intrigued she became. However, with as much time as Natsu spent on her mind, the young freshman was growing more confused by the day. While she wanted to believe there could be something with Natsu, she couldn’t shake their first real encounter. The way he’d looked through her like she was transparent, had broken her heart. Minerva had played them both, but it wasn’t Natsu who chose to leave it all behind. Lucy had.

Grabbing her phone, she quickly replied to her cyber-friend before logging into her computer to check an email Levy had sent her. Seeing as how he was a college professor, Lucy kept the whole tutoring thing to herself. She already felt intellectually inferior as it was, no need to add in more ammunition.

Starfire: Unless you’d rather watch explosion videos again? I bet you can’t find another ‘Mentos and Diet Coke’ video we have yet to see.

Reading over the email, she sighed when she realized it was about Fall Rush that started the following week. While she wanted to run away again with everything she had, she had decided to give it another shot with the sole intent of joining Cait Shelter. If for some reason they didn’t take her, she’d drop out and never look back again.

Noticing the time, Lucy grabbed her backpack and quickly made her way to Precht Hall.

Friday couldn’t have come soon enough.

Ever since he walked Lucy to her dorm that night, Natsu couldn’t get her off his mind. Every time he tried, he thought back to how amazing it had felt to have her body so close to his. The smell of her hair had flooded back to him from that night of the Greek Row party when he was carrying her outside. This time she had been conscious, her breath short and ragged in the cramped quarters they had found themselves in. His blood had been boiling underneath his skin until he left her at the door.  

The first thing he'd done upon arriving at the frat house was challenge his pledge brother to a round in the backyard and they'd gone until one in the morning. Even fighting with Gray hadn’t worked! After such strenuous activity, the exhausted Grad Student allowed himself to indulge in another one of his “fun” showers. And again he guiltily blew his load to the image of a certain doe-eyed, golden-haired freshman before passing the hell out. He had officially tried everything imaginable in hopes of taking his mind off of the feeling of having her trapped in his arms.

If he was being completely honest, the only reason Natsu offered to go to a philanthropic event at a local homeless shelter Tuesday morning was so that he could skip out of lab. He needed space to clear his head and Makarov understood that it was for a “good reason”, pardoning him in order to pass the buck to Gray. In between setting up new beds, moving furniture between the main floors and the basement, and countless other physical tasks, he tried to distract himself by texting Starfire. While he absolutely loved talking to her, he was starting to feel bad every time her name popped up onto his screen. He knew he was using her as a distraction, a nameless, faceless being who made him feel cared for. He wondered if he would have been jacking off to thoughts of her instead if he'd actually known what she looked like. That night he'd gotten so deep into their conversation that he'd passed out before bothering to put his phone up.

Natsu took advantage of his day off on Wednesday and spent the better part of the daylight hours at his parents’ home about thirty miles outside the city limits. With his older brother off no one knew where exactly, it was up to him to make sure their aging parents were properly cared for. He did some minor house chores while talking to his mom and dad getting grilled in the typical fashion when he'd made the mistake of mentioning Lucy. After enduring what seemed like hours of torture he left (with a bag full of leftovers) with just enough time to make it back to campus for the Rush Event. It was the first one and Natsu couldn't miss it. He was hoping to find a guy he could nominate so that he could continue his ‘Family Tree’ but he'd have to wait until all the events had passed. Running to the house, he'd bumped into Lucy, literally, almost knocking the poor girl over. He didn’t really have the time to explain anything to her, so he helped her with her things and took off again, promising himself that he’d talk to her after the tutoring session or something.

Thursday contained nothing but school and texting Starfire. It had been a completely normal day by Natsu’s standards. He’d watched Gray’s blue-haired mystery woman sneak out for what seemed like the millionth time, reminding himself to ask his best friend about his new friend. Every time he thought about Lucy, he texted Starfire instead in an attempt to trick himself. What did the head docs call it? Transference? It only made him feel worse. By the time he’d made it to his bed, the pinket thought he’d finally rest. He thought wrong.

Shit, he’d jumped the ball again. Granted, he was pissed as hell that Lisanna had been spending all that time texting and chatting with other guys, but they were happy right? They went to Greek parties, football games, they’d even served on the Greek Council together. The two of them had been the ideal couple, until they were behind closed doors. Sure, they had their “fun” but it had quickly lost its spark, leading to many Netflix binges and early nights. They hardly even cuddled. But they enjoyed their time together mostly, and it worked for them.

Until he knew it didn’t. Natsu blew up and kicked her out of his room in the frat house, telling her they were over. A couple days later he’d wanted to cave, he wanted to call her and beg her to take him back. Just so he didn’t have to be alone anymore. Eventually he had tried to call her, but she never answered. His texts went ignored as well. The only thing he could think of was so childish it was either bound to work, or he was going to fail terribly.

Minerva was sitting on one of the benches outside Lily Heart’s house when Natsu walked up, just as she said she’d be. Lisanna had left campus for the night, so they were free to speak privately. There was something about the atmosphere around them that made the Grad Student feel like he was about to sell his soul to the Devil incarnate.

“How can I help you tonight, Handsome?” Minerva oozed, her blood-red clawed hand patting the empty space on the bench beside her. Natsu gulped as he sat down, making sure to maintain as much space as humanly possible, even if it was only a couple inches.

“Can you help me talk to Lisanna?” he rushed, never stopping to take a breath. He feared that if he didn’t get it out immediately he never would.

Minerva pretended to think it over, eyes raking over him seductively as she did so. It made Natsu shudder and not in a pleasurable way.

Ultimately she spoke with a salacious grin. “Fine, I’ll arrange for you to have some time with Lis. She’s been dying to talk to you anyway. Are you familiar with the Formal we have at the end of Rush Week? The one back at the house where we--” she paused to lick her lips, “show off the new girls?”

Friday morning, Natsu had woke up feeling like his stomach was in his throat. The memory of what had been done to Lucy, using him as a tool, absolutely broke him. Not to mention he’d been pissed when he found out that Lisanna had no idea he’d even wanted to meet her. The entire time Minerva had used him as a way to break down Lucy, but in the end, it was the blonde freshman that had been the stronger one. After she ran out of the house in her lingerie, the lingerie, Natsu had even tried to find her but unfortunately he’d lost track of her. He’d completely pushed the thought of those tear-filled brown eyes from mind until a few weeks later when she popped up in his class.

After a pretty intense workout/shower combo, and an afternoon of catching up with his Thesis, Natsu made his way to Precht Hall to set up his study room. It was a small side classroom with two whiteboards on perpendicular cream-colored walls. There was a small, worn, Cherry wood table surrounded by eight chairs, two on either side. He set out his materials and took his seat, waiting for his usual crowd of students to show up. Taking out his phone, he texted Starfire for a bit before noticing the time. Most of the group was usually present by then. Hearing the doorknob rattle, and the solid oak door scratch open, Natsu looked up and immediately blanched.

Looked like he’d be tutoring Ms. Lucy Heartfilia one-on-one, and damn, did she look distracting.

[fantasticworldoffanfics]

DEREK/STILES

Fandom: TeenWolf

Just an extended must read list of awesome fanfics that is in no particular order :) ...

top favourites, more top favourites

In The Woods Somewhere

Author: WithMyTeeth (Ylith)

Summary: Peter travels with various carnivals, showcasing a massive black wolf he parades as a man-eating beast. In his caravan he keeps Stiles, his most precious possession who is much more special than he may outwardly appear. Stiles feels a kinship with the creature through their mutual captivity, so when he makes his escape he frees the wolf as well. Like Stiles though, the wolf is also more than he appears

Five Days of Dickings

Author: drunktuesdays, mklutz, the_ragnarok

Summary: Five Dickings in Five Days was the (hopefully interim) title he’d seen on the contract. More like five days of dickings. Whatever, Stiles was into it. The money is great; the fucking is also great. It’s a win-win way to pay for college.

Wolf Pack: Beacon Original

Author: Beerwolves, fearfrost1211

Summary: When his father landed the Deputy Chief of police position in Beacon Hills, Stiles moved to his new town gladly, embracing the chance of a fresh start. What he didn’t expect was to find himself hopelessly drawn to the gruff Vice President of the local motorcycle gang, the Wolf Pack. Derek Hale, resident bad boy of Beacon Hills, spent his time helping his sister lead the Wolf Pack and working on motorcycles at his family’s automotive garage. Then, one hot summer afternoon a bright-eyed boy walked into his life and turned his world upside down.

And That's a Wrap

Author: the_problem_with_stardust

Summary: An insanely attractive guy and his terrifying dog move into the Preserve. Too bad Stiles is a magnet for embarrassing situations.

Comprehensive Study in Getting a Boyfriend via Persuasive Essay-Writing

Author: Luddleston

Summary: Stiles is a junior Journalism major who takes Rhetorical Strategies because it covers his English requirement. He's also trying to be subtle about the way he keeps checking out his professor. Derek is a grad student teaching his first class ever. He also has the most annoying student on the face of the planet, and is donereading essays about the history of male circumcision. Flirty e-mails are exchanged, Stiles spends way too much time in Derek's office, and they fall in love over a mutual hatred for APA formatting.

The Rose and the Wolf

Author: xxjinchuurikixx

Summary: For who could ever learn to love a Beast?  Stiles takes his father's place as a Beast's prisoner in an enchanted castle.

Home

Author: coffeeinallcaps

Summary: Derek has bought a beautiful house. Stiles can't stay away. (In which everyone hangs out at Derek's place all the time and Stiles tries but fails not to fall for a certain socially inept alpha.)

(Not So) Pure Imagination

Author: theroguesgambit

Summary: "There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

Forbidden Forest (eat you up)

Author: kishmet

Summary: Okay, so technically werebunny Stiles isn't supposed to wander around in the woods at night. But creative interpretation happens to be one of Stiles' special talents.

Happiness is Not a Horse, You Cannot Harness it

Author: otter

Summary: Derek's expecting the new guy. He's expecting another mostly-useless college kid who doesn't know one end of a horse from the other, and Derek doesn't have the time to babysit. What he's not expecting is Stiles Stilinski, who carries on conversations with the livestock and gets maybe a little too chummy with Isaac and is really kind of stupidly perfect in every way. And it's just distracting, that's all.

On Job Training

Author: suzvoy

Summary: Stiles finally gets the practical experience he's been looking for. It's safe to say it doesn't happen even remotely the way he was expecting. AKA, pretend boyfriends! With a twist!

The Searching Ceremonies Series

Author: KouriArashi

Part 1: Divided We Stand

Summary: Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

Part 2: United We Mend

Summary: Sequel to Divided We Stand. Six months have gone by, Stiles is slowly recovering from his injuries, and the Searching Ceremony is about to happen. This time it's Cora who brings someone home, but he might not be what he seems...

Part 3: Together We Build

Summary: Everything has settled down after the last Searching Ceremony. Stiles decides to tackle a cold case that his father gives him - a 10 year old murder caused by a rejected werewolf bite. Meanwhile, Derek is trying to solve an even bigger mystery - what's going on between Uncle Peter and Sheriff Stilinski, and how much does he have to worry about it?

Part 4: Forever We Strive

Summary: When Peter and Sheriff Stilinski decide to adopt a child, they meet a little girl named Malia, whose parents were murdered. But when Stiles starts looking into who killed them, he finds a lot of unanswered questions.

Ever After

Author: Sybilina

Summary: Four years ago, Stiles left Beacon Hills, to go to college, to get away from the pack, to try to mend a broken heart. He thought he'd succeeded but right when graduation came around, his whole world fell apart. Again. There's only so many times Stiles can deal with his world falling down around him. This was one time too many.It isn't about getting the girl, or the guy, because romance and lovey feelings aren't a cure for depression.

Play It Again Series

Author: metisket

Part 1: Play It Again

Summary: In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

Part 2: This Doesn’t Hurt

Summary: Melissa isn’t sure how she accidentally adopted a teenager, but she’s confident that somehow, it’s all Stiles Stilinski’s fault.

Derek Hale: Werewolf Cop Series

Author: the_deep_magic

Part 1: CherryBomb

Summary: Stiles is yanked up to his feet so fast that his world spins and his shoulder aches and he’s a second from screaming police brutality! when he gets a good look at the cop’s face.Holy shit. Stiles was just tackled to the ground by a fucking underwear model with a badge.

Part 2: Service Weapon

Summary: It is 100% against Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Office policy to allow two officers engaged in a romantic relationship to be partners. It is also 100% accurate that no one else on the force can last more than three days in a car with Stiles without begging for either a ball gag or the sweet release of death.

Scent Marking For Dummies

Author: Hatteress (goddammitstacey)

Summary: Stiles is almost used to being chased around the school by werewolves at this point. Having to share a bed with Derek freaking Hale, on the other hand, is just needlessly complicating his life.

The Right Number

Author: kyaticlikestea

Summary: When Stiles Stilinski's phone gets switched at the gym, he really just wants it back. The last thing he's expecting is to fall hopelessly in lust with the guy who's got his phone.So, of course, that's exactly what happens.

All You Ever Needed To Know About Knotting

Author: KuriKuri

Summary: Derek had started reading the column by accident. Really, reading strangers’ questions about knotting and heat had never really appealed to him. However, at that point in time, he was a little desperate.And he was right: most of the questions submitted by anonymous readers didn’t appeal to him. The answers, though, did.(Or: In which Stiles writes an advice column about knotting and Derek is smitten. Also they're neighbors.)

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby

Author: stilinskisparkles

Summary: In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Dating Backwards

Author: RemainNameless

Summary: Pornstars Derek and Stiles work for the same company. Derek only shoots with werewolves and Stiles only shoots with humans. That's not going to change after they meet. It's really not. (It might.)

Dirty Paws and Furry Coats

Author: queerly_it_is

Summary: Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.[AU based on Disney's The Fox and the Hound]

This Is Home

Author: raisesomehale

Summary: Other than being a werefox with a werekit for a son, Stiles' life is relatively normal. He's a single parent, owns a modest sized home, and has a variety of kid-friendly meal recipes tucked neatly under his belt. It might be just him and Nate, but they have it in the bag. Nothing is missing from their lives.That is, until Nate befriends a girl named Sadie Hale on his first day of kindergarten. Then everything changes.

Adventures and Explorations Series

Author: Survivah

Part 1: A Simple Life

Summary: Derek plans to spend the rest of his life holed up in the woods after Laura dies. Then he meets a stubborn young fox, and the stubborn young fox meets an urn of Deaton's magic powder, and his plans change.

Part 2: Finding Miracles

Summary: Stiles was planning on just being a fox for his entire life. Then, well, magic, true love, blah blah blah, things got complicated. But as it turns out, he still has a lot to learn about this new world he's living in. Humanity, man. It's weird.

Knot if You Don't Knock

Author: jsea, marguerite_26

Summary: Stiles never expects to present as an omega -- that's something that happens to people like Greenberg, not him. He is so wrong. His life only gets stranger when Derek Hale mistakenly bursts through the door of his exam room during a doctor’s appointment. What happens next is a complicated series of events, including freshly baked cookies, book-carrying and surprise heats.

Sweet Tooth

Author: Spikedluv

Summary: Derek Hale had returned to Beacon Hills and the ice cream place was reopening. “Best. Day. Ever,” Stiles told Scott.

Oh God, He's Hot

Author: lupus

Summary: When Stiles came home a couple of days before junior year started from a summer away, he was a little more than excited to see his best friend Derek, especially now that he’d finally gotten the courage to act upon his long standing crush on the guy. There’s just one problem; somewhere in the span of three months puberty hit Derek like the bus hit Regina George and all of the sudden Derek is hot. And Stiles isn’t the only one who’s noticed.

Worth Series

Author: holdin_out_4a_hero

Part 1: You’re Worth It

Summary: "NO WAY! Her sons coming here?”Danny sighed dreamily. “Yeah, the Stiles Stilinksi. The young model that made it big on accident with his moms camera. The L.A. heartthrob that has actually never dated anyone, and no one knows what he does over summer, and yet he still manages to keep the hearts of young Americans easily.”“So why’s he coming here?” Scott asked, remembering that the entire Stilinski family was loaded with money, given the success of every single one of them, and yet Stiles would be coming to the middle of nowhere, for a random school that offered nothing.“Who knows? His parents are from here, but they’re not coming here with him. I have no idea, but honestly? I’m not complaining.”

Part 2: You’re Worth Everything

Summary: Stiles loves Derek, Derek loves Stiles... if it's meant to be, why does it seem so hard to get it to be?

The Awkward and Sometimes Painful Life of Genim Hale

Author: BlueRunawayMoon

Summary: Stiles is a writer of gay erotica whose work, according to his Editor (one miss Lydia Martin) has gotten dull and boring. Lydia suggest's that Stiles try to LIVE a little, gain some new juicy experiences that he can write about and bring the heat up again. Only problem is Stiles is a bit on the dorky side and not good with 'living a little'. After a whole slew of embarrassing situations brought on by his best(sometimes!) friend Scott, he's given some wise advice and decides to take a tropical paradise vacation. All's going good and well, and he's got a major crush on his super hot tour guide Danny. Yet it seem's like he can't stop bumping into Derek, who, as annoying and brooding as he seem's, also makes it quite clear he WANTS Stiles. As in...wants wants. With the two being brought together almost by fate, Stiles discover's that Derek is more than he seems....WAY more.

The Christmas Raffle

Author: mikkimouse

Summary: Every year, the royal Hale family raffles off a Christmas dinner with Prince Derek to raise money for charity. But this year, the winner is the second chance Derek didn't know he was looking for.

Kings Of The Moonlight

Author: thelogicoftaste

Summary: Derek is the newly single father to his only son, Isaac Argent Hale, and he finds himself having to move back to his home town of Beacon Hills to escape the insanity of his ex. It's in the middle of all this upheaval, the crazy mess that his life has become that he meets Stiles. Crazy, beautiful Stiles.

more fics: part 2

[cosmosogler]

hello everyone. today was friday.

i woke up and only delayed my alarm by 5 minutes even though i was very grumpy about it. i didn’t feel that light-headedness that i’ve been experiencing for the past several days so i took that as a hopeful sign that the extra 20-30 minutes of sleep was what i needed.

snoopy likes to start meowing as soon as she sees dawn crack and that wakes me up every morning for a few minutes. i usually just say “hi snoop” or meow back and go back to sleep, but it does disrupt the morning a little bit.

aw man. i was gonna talk about my dreams because they were different last night but now i can’t really remember more than a little bit.

oh, ok. there was some stuff about cleaning up after the dogs while trying to prevent dad from exploding anger-wise. and then... man, i can’t explain what was going on in ten minutes. there was an elevator that was rising alongside a skyscraper using an air current instead of a pulley system. the skyscraper is in a harbor with a sidewalk sort of dock hanging over the ocean. voldemort was waiting at the top. there were some other people in the elevator but i don’t remember who. they didn’t really... i don’t think they made it. i survived by playing dead, but i ended up falling in the ocean and washing up in the trash heaps. and there i was stranded!

i had a pretty leisurely morning, although i decided to call disability resources when i had about 15 minutes before i had to leave. it ended up taking the whole 15 minutes because the person on the other end seemed kind of out of it? so i had to rush out the door anyway even after giving myself enough time to lounge around.

classes were fine. all of my professors have accents that i have trouble parsing. also the building is kept at the most perfectly uncomfortable temperature i’ve ever experienced. by the end of second period i was fidgeting at my desk nonstop. it was mostly my fingernails that were making me so uncomfortable... they were making it impossible for my hands to sit right. the back of the chair was pretty rough on my back too.

immediately after second period we went in the lab for the ta prep. the instructor ordered pizza for everyone again, and once again i got a stomachache so bad i was dizzy for short spells. but what can you do. it feels wrong to reject free food, even though i did pack my own lunch. i can always save the non-sandwich parts for another day... i was kinda bummed that i didn’t feel hungry enough for my sandwich afterward though.

the prep period was supposed to run for 2 hours but because of the pizza it was actually the full 2 hours even though the lab was for vector addition. i liked the experiment well enough- i had to re-learn how to use a compass and work with the radial diagram and everything. 

after that i had a free hour so i pulled up my project app and did a 45-minute study session that i fell asleep at the end of. i don’t know why my brain shuts off as soon as i try to push it. it’s not that i CAN’T understand the material. but as soon as i sit and look at formulas my brain pushes the “no” button and i pass out. even in class! even in my favorite classes! 

i know physics is hard. i’m willing to put in the work. i can understand the material and i can make sense of the reading. but i have so much trouble putting the information in my long-term memory because i can barely hold it in my short-term memory. my brain won’t let me put in the work. and i know it’s not a lack of sleep thing because the whole rest of the day i was mellow but not sleepy. i got a full 8 hours, or pretty near it.

i’m frustrated about that.

after the third class i hung out with keegan and jennica and taylor and one or two other guys i can’t remember right now. i joked about pulling out the grad student list and memorizing everyone’s faces. in the lab i worked with dazhi. i didn’t know his name in the lab but i was afraid to ask. i heard it during roll-call the next period.

i have so much trouble understanding what the american students are saying to me. my brain just overloads when i try to figure out foreign accents. i feel like my train of thought is too loud or distracting and i miss tiny half-seconds of the conversation and that totally loses me, or i just can’t hear words and put them in my head and push out the words already flooding in from the back.

jennica really intimidates me. i can’t seem to figure out why though. i think it’s because she strikes me as very similar in mannerisms to the neighbor’s kid back at home, sierra. and sierra usually says what she means, but she uses a deceptive sort of tone. i haven’t figured out how to read jennica’s tone and i can’t figure out if i rub her the wrong way or not. i know laughing at your own jokes can be annoying...

taylor wears my patience thin pretty quickly during our interactions. he was wearing a shirt today that said “tsundere” and had a blushing girl in silhouette. yesterday he wore a shirt that said “anime is trash and so am i” which i thought was pretty good. we got into a disagreement basically the first day we were both on the grad discord channel though. he struck me as a very surface level reader.

i get along well with keegan though. he invited his girlfriend to watch the eclipse with us on monday and i did my best to back off to make sure i wasn’t coming on too strong or anything. i think that our friendship will even out to be more like how hogan and i got along back in undergrad. mutual complainers or something like that i guess. we made jokes about procrastination to the professor and he gave me a lot of material to work with joke wise. we agreed to maybe study in the department on sunday if i could convince the others and he sort of vaguely invited me to get tea with him sometime. 

harrison is also someone i need to keep an eye on. what i’m trying to do is spend time with everyone individually to figure out who i want to spend the most time with but i am concerned that some men might take the attention as an invitation. he’s nice enough right now but the vibe i get from him puts me on edge.

sorry i just wanted to organize my thoughts here. i’ve met more people of course. today rui (my and jennica’s officemate) asked to touch my hair since it is very curly. i let her kind of pat my head a few times but i wasn’t sure how to talk about hair so i just kind of stood there.

so i came home and put on an episode of taz and made dinner but threw half of it away because i lost my appetite. snoopy was very affectionate, bumping my forehead and running up every time she wanted me to scratch her chin. she sits on the table when i finish cooking even though she doesn’t shove her face into my orange juice any more.

then i did some computer stuff off my to-do list and knocked out about half of it. it was all pretty small tasks, not more than 25 minutes each (and most of them under 10). i also watched an hour-long thing on youtube which was perhaps not the best use of my time but i had a good time. 

now it’s 10:40, which is past my bedtime, but i wanted to spend some time reflecting on my social situation. i’ve been... basically incapable of letting trusting friendships grow naturally the last several years. i know that. every time i’ve bonded with someone the last five and a half years it’s been a conscious decision. it takes me like a year of regularly spending time with people to start considering them “friends.” but i feel like... i don’t have that kind of time right now. if i’m going to succeed in my classes (WITH ONLY A GRADES (!!!!)) i need an environment of people who are good studiers and also i have to like them. 

the main problem there is that i gotta bring something to the table myself and i feel like i’m just not there.

anyway, that’s what i’m thinking about right now. tomorrow i’m going to work out and maybe swim since i didn’t get to do much of that in the last month and a half. my incisions are getting smaller and less weird and bumpy to the touch. i also need to see if i can take some snoopy samples over to the vet even though that’ll be a long project. and i gotta run the grocery errands. good night friends.