#cause there will be classes and jobs and interactions that we just have to do

[liones-s]

I've been trying to pay more attention to when things feel easy. I spent so many years forcing things - relationships, interests, routines - that it was difficult to imagine things could or should feel differently. now that I've starting experiencing things that feel natural, I'm learning that hard work and forcing things are not equivalent. Doing well in a class I enjoy takes a lot of work, but it's not miserable. Swimming makes me tired but it brings me joy. When I tell someone I like spending time with them, they suggest fun things to do and it just happens to be an activity I love. Relationships and hobbies and passions take work, but they can feel good. Noticing when it feels good can help us find the way towards what's meant for us.

[gideonisms]

grits teeth this anxiety is just an excuse to treat myself better that's all this is telling me. It's just the sign to go on more walks and make myself my favorite tea and read more. Things that WILL feel good and luxurious so help me

[luulapants]

Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The wonders of ink

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

‘Fred and George prank you by getting your clothes dirty, only to take you to the bathrooms to help you clean off’

A/N: I decided to repost (so nobody thought I was dead). I’ve been gone for so long and I feel guilty so I decided to deliver smut upon you all haha. My dear sister helped me to write this (Her Wattpad account is @Darkness_Donut. Feel free to give her a look if you’re in the Wattpad area)

T/W: Unprotected sex, The twins being kinda pervy, Groping, Double penetration

Fred and George put a lot of work into every prank.

Whether it was as simple as a ‘Hex Me’ note on Ron’s back or as sophisticated as creating a new type of chocolate that caused facial warts.

Not only did they put work into their pranks, but they also put pride into them. Each one was like their child, born and sent into the world to cause mischief. The prank they planned for you, however, was less like a prank and more like a plot for something even better than the typical annoyed scowl the pranks were usually met with.

While other students prepared for various classes and homework projects, Fred and George would stay locked in their dorm, perfecting the key catalyst for their interaction with you.

The twins were head over heels in love with you. While most people would approach you with a normal greeting and a proposition for a date, the twins needed to do more. Go big or go home was practically their motto. So when their newest creation was ready, all they had to do was wait for the perfect moment.

____________________________________________

You had been in the courtyard. Your nose stuck in the book that was cradled in your hands. So unsuspecting and sweet. The way the wind blew your hair, how your eyes were glued to the words.

George approached you, not too close that you’d notice but close enough that he could start phase one of the plan. He pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside a dark blue that stained the glass. He took a deep breath before uncorking the bottle and taking a step closer, ‘tripping’ over the tree branch and spilling the liquid over your uniform.

You squealed and moved the book aside, looking between the fresh stain and the redhead who threw it on you.

“George! What in Merlin's beard have you done?!”

George just shrugged his shoulders, putting on an apologetic look. The same look he gave his mum when she scolded him for putting a spell on Percy’s breakfast which caused the sausages to spout legs.

“I didn’t mean too, honest. I just kinda…tripped”

You did not look pleased, understandably so. George almost felt guilty but then he remembered the plan. It was all going smoothly, even if you might disagree.

“I feel awful. How about we go to the Prefects bathroom and get you cleaned up before it dries?”

With a sigh, you followed George.

The walk to the prefect's bathroom was filled with you grumbling about the stain and scolding George for not being careful. The bathroom was empty (all thanks to a little spell that temporarily made the door disappear). The baths were filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles, steam dampening the air.

Fred emerged from around one of the pillars, smirking as he looked you up and down.

“Good job, George. I knew you could get our girl here. You know, love, you should really clean up that stain. Wouldn’t want Snape taking away our hard earned points, now would you?”

George moved closer to you, his chest barely touching your back. Fred leaned against the pillar, staring at the black spot on your shirt. You crossed your arms, letting out a huff. You could practically see the burning desire in Fred’s eyes from across the room, the heat from George sneaking through the back of your shirt and warming your skin.

“You’d both like that, huh? Why don’t I just have a bath while I'm at it?”

George ignored your sarcastic tone and leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, sweetheart. We’ll get you nice and clean”.

Something about George’s soft tone caused your hands to rise to your top button, both sets of eyes glued to your fingers as they popped open the first button of many. One by one, your shirt slowly opened. The shirt had luckily (or unluckily) caught the liquid and stopped it from seeping through to your bra and skin underneath.

George helped you to slip the fabric from off your body before Fred stepped closer and took it from him. He held it up with a smirk.

“There’s nothing here, love. Maybe you just wanted to get naked for us”.

The white shirt was clean. Not a spot or stain in sight. The sight of your wide eyes and confused look made Fred chuckle. George rubbed your arms.

“Our newest prank, disappearing ink. We heard Harry talking about how his idiot muggle cousin had some so we wanted to make our own. We made it especially for you”.

Your hand darted out to snatch the fabric from Fred, smoothing your fingers over the fabric that was once stained to see if it was really gone. Both boys watched as your expression turned from confusion to shock to a mix of desire and anger. You were angry that the twins had tricked you and pulled you away from your book but you couldn’t help but feel hot at the thought that they made an ink just to get you in your bra. Maybe a reward for all their hard work wouldn’t be so bad.

George tugged on the bra clasp, his lips ghosting down your neck before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, but you didn't push him away. Fred toyed with the hem of your skirt, watching as your eyes glazed over with desperation.

“I need you both. Please make me feel good”

Fred tugged your skirt up, using his other hand to trace his fingers over the elastic of your underwear. He slowly trails your underwear down your smooth legs and helps you step out of them so your dripping folds are on display to him. As you look upon their faces, both of them lick their bottom lips in unison. George finally pulls your bra off, tossing it with your discarded shirt.

How could you look so innocent in just your skirt with your tits out? To the twins, you were like a graceful doe who wandered into the hunters' den. George practically growled as his hands groped your tits, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Your eyes closed and you let out a whimper that was sweeter than any sugary treat from Honeydukes.

Fred took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, shimmying them down enough to pull his cock out. Every noise that escaped your lips made it jerk in his hand. He stepped closer, his tip pressing snugly against your clit and leaving a splodge of precum. His hand wrapped around your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip while George held you upright. His head speared through your folds, your slick coating his shaft.

“Do you want this, love? You want me inside of you? Maybe we should see if that tight little hole can handle Georgie and I at the same time. I can feel how wet that makes you, Sweetheart. The thought of taking two cocks, we’d break that sweet pussy open”

George tugged at your earlobe with your teeth, only pulling back when a whine bubbled up from your throat.

“I think you want us to ruin you for other men”

Your voice couldn't have been more than a whisper, but it was filled with every dirty promise and beg that would only be privy to the twins’ ears.

“I want you two. I want other guys to look at me and know that I belong to you”

“Sweetheart, you already belong to us”

George moved his hand down to push his trousers down and pull his cock out, pressing it at your entrance before pulling you against him. His cock slid inside of you, your warm cunt hugging his shaft.

Fred brushed his fingertips against your clit, taking in the sight of your hole stretched around his brother's cock. It was gonna be a tight fit. He nudged at your entrance, his tip trying to find a space big enough to squeeze into. With a bit more persistence, he was pushing forward, the desperation to be buried inside of you fueling him.

You tried to stay still, trying not to squirm or clench. The stretch was so intense that you swore you could even feel the blood pumping through the veins decorating their shafts. Every pulse, every nudge felt like it would rip you in two.

When Fred’s tip finally pushed through the small opening, the squealed moan that left your lips was enough for George to press his hand to your lips to muffle any sound. As much as they loved the noises you were making, they couldn’t get suspended so close to graduating. There would always be other occasions to hear your pretty moans.

The sight was one to behold. The twins wished they could photograph your pussy stuffed with both of their cocks and frame it, only to watch the replay over and over.

An obscene squelching filled the room as they repeatedly stuffed their cocks into you. The stretch brings you closer to the edge than ever before. Your walls clenched, trying to both push their cocks out and pull them deeper. It didn't take long before you were cumming, clenching around them in a desperate need to be full of their cum.

George's hand stayed over your mouth, his lips whispering sweet praises in your ear. Fred lips were pressed against your forehead, giving chaste kisses here and there. Their groans echoed throughout the room when they felt you cum around them. You felt too good to be true. It took them 3 months to make that ink.

It was worth every single minute.

A mix of their cum flooded your insides, but there was so much that it started spilling out. But they didn't pull out just yet. With how much effort went into getting you between them, they were gonna make this last for as long as possible. It was only after they came down from their high that they noticed just how much of a mess you all made. Cum spots stained your skirt and their trousers. Fred’s chuckle caught your attention.

“Maybe we should clean you up for real this time”

[starlight-45]

Dating BLLK boys in school! (Part 2)

Featuring:- Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage, Seishiro Nagi (Part 1 here with Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira and Rin Itoshi and here's the masterlist )

A/n: again, don't know where this shit is set. It has their current personalities and they're still in blue lock. Maybe taking a break in off-season and go to school for a change. Idk.

~Hyoma Chigiri~

•Is pretty nonchalant about the whole thing actually he is about most things but gives in easily much to your suprise. he's unpredictable like that.

• To him school was just a place to showcase his talent on a low level before moving on to the bigger stage.

• Kinda really didn't have that many friends, despite being popular as hell because of his looks and talent.

• 'Cause no one really couldn't kept up with his actual sass and sharp personality. Well expect for you now, darling! Don't expect him to admit it though, you'll get only an eye roll out of him.

• But geuninely like there are situations where he has to reject like 5 people at once. 😭 You don't whether to be impressed or annoyed by it.

• Anyway.

• If Chirgiri isn't in class, you can find him in the library. Before you try to fight me, lemme remind it's in the egoist Bible so it's canon.

• He will binge read history novels honestly, and thinks in his free time how it could have been different and stuff. He thinks about the fall of the Roman Empire at least once a day.

• Won't ramble or blabble about it too much to you, but will share random titbits to you about, at the most random times.

• No seriously. At the most random times.

"Ugh trigonometry is the worst-"

"Christianity promotion must have resulted in loss of traditional values of Romans..."

"Huh?"

"You asked to study right?"

"YES. To study maths. Tommorow is the test!"

"...Oh."

• Also he's got a fair amount of complaints from teachers and other coordinators about his long hair. When they speak to him about it, he's judging then SO hard. He does it to almost everyone.

• If you blabble about your classmates stories, he will listen to it, asking questions actively. He actually is pretty interested in the gossipy stuff.

• Can I just rant about how much of a tease he is in denying you affection? Like don't get me wrong, of course Chigiri's gonna have some sort of physical contact like holding hands and stuff in front of other students.

• To show you guys are together and no he's not entertaining any confessions, that's what he tells you to just not get annoying interactions but you both know it's just not that lol

• But when you two do mange to get alone on campus, this guy is a cheeky little bastard. He intentionally leans a bit far than you, just to rile you up and make the first move.

"What? Why are you glaring at me, huh? I didn't do anything you know."

• By the way, this kind of situation doesn't really happen often. Only in school when alone. Still to this day you don't know why he gets like that during that specific time.

• You guessed it's maybe because he rarely can keep his hands off you in private, so this environment keeps him a but grounded and can act all cool. You saw right through it, but that's different story.

• Doesn't care what people think of him, rude, moody, arrogent hell even princess...because like whatever. But won't torelate any negetive comments about you.

• His demeanor doesn't change much, but his glare speaks for itself that the person currently should shut up if they know what's good for them.

• Because, despite all the ups and downs our princess truly loves you and will want the best for you. Amen.

~Mikage Reo~

• I'm guessing you already has a pretty good grasp at what to expect from him, huh?

• We all know, that while on the surface his school life is perfect with good grades, popularity, football...he gets really really bored there.

• But I think as his girlfriend, it's your job to not get him excited. And guess what? You're doing a great job at it!

• This guy is the type, that when in a relationship, you can talk on and on about golf most boring sport ever! and he will listen like it's the most interesting thing ever.

• So yeah... it's not really all that hard for ya to keep him busy lol. Others have a hard time to do so though.

• Though he gave up on studies since blue lock, he figured that it won't hurt to study a bit for a few months to keep up his reputation.

• And to impress you, but shh don't let him know I told ya. But yeah, when talking about studies he's more of a hard work type rather than being a natural. I'm looking at you, Nagi!

• Which is a blessing for you because you can literally just call him over whenever you wanna study. And like ACTUALLY study, he's the best at tutoring, teaching you everything patiently.

• I mean he was the best friend was Nagi. OF COURSE Reo gained a lot of patience from being around that baby.

• Still entertains the fan following he quickly gained at school I mean what did you expect? but not really too much like before.

• Kinda because of still having PTSD from blue lock. You know the the haunting feeling no matter what he does there are things he won't get. Yeah that's what he's afraid of deep down.

• And not just that, also because of you. He knows people can get a too overboard with the fangirling which might make you uncomfortable. So sweet! 😭

• Proudly shows you off as his, and damn he does get a bit of a smug look which is priceless to see. It's a good reminder for him that no matter what happens, you're always his side.

• Which suprisingly makes everyone immediately back off, because like it's just so evident that this guy is just too hooked up on you to even glance at their direction.

• Will actually bribe the school authorities to get you in his class, and will deny any accusations made against him by you about that matter you JUST asked him casually but y'know this guy is dramatic as hell.

• "Why would I do that? You think that I'm the kind of rich person to throw money away just to get my way?"

"I love you Reo but that's exactly what you are."

• Always has an arm around you, suprising you during lunch break, pulling your cheeks even in front of everyone...you're just that cute!

• Is the type to distract you during class, then giggle when you get called out by the teacher for not paying attention. :P

• Don't worry much though, Reo doesn't do it that often, he knows his limits, despite being tempted to do more just to have your attention and your adorable mad face.

• Damnit, you're still just too cute for him to resist having you with him. He truly is blessed.

~Nagi Seishiro~

• Okay so, I think this scenario can go two ways, depending on what time you ask him and what mood he is in.

• 1. Nagi would just say "It's such a hassle" and drop his head on your lap, not wanting to think much but will relent with a bit of convincing because again, he doesn't wanna use his brain much.

• 2. Would just say okay on your first attempt, not seeing any reason to refuse. As you can see, both of these scenarios end up getting him back in school for a few months.

• We all know he's the type to just sleep and play games in class and get scolded by the teacher because of it.

• Lord knows how this guy manages to top every single time because I don't.

• "Hey Seishiro what did you get?"

"..98.."

"I just can't believe it, how do you do it every single time?!"

"I don't believe it either." said the teacher unamused, arranging the papers.

• You also feel lowkey jealous because of it, like can study for hours and hours and still get less than him I don't know about you ma'am but I would have given up a long time ago on academics.

• However, it has it's merits as well. He doesn't study but hangs around you when you do in the library or his apartment and sometimes kind of helps you understand stuff.

• "God this question is so stupid."

"...Hm? It's so easy..."

"Oh really? Why don't you tell me how to do it?"

"... don't convert the tan A into sin A/cosA, because it won't get divided on the final step..."

"Wow it worked, thank you!"

"... don't mention it."

• If you can't find him during lunch, you can find him in teacher's cabin getting scolded or sleeping/playing games on the stairs.

• And in extreme cases, on the water tank of the rooftop how the hell did does he get there?? basically everywhere expect the classroom, eating his lunch, y'know like a normal person in lunch break.

• So it's your duty to drag him to have lunch so to make sure he doesn't die. No I'm not exaggerating, this guy can be starving to death but still be playing call of duty.

• This guy is shameless around you, and the worst part that you can't even say anything about it because it's not his intention to annoy you. He is just is build different.

• Like, he'd just lean over your shoulder as you drag him to class you still won't give him the piggyback ride. Poor boy not really regardless of people giving him and you judgemental stares.

• On the rare days when he's not sleeping in class, he's still not paying any attention to the teacher. Yeah all the teachers hate him.

• Instead his focus is all on you, observing how you are trying your best to pay attention to whatever the hell the teacher's trying to explain, suprisingly intrigued.

• He doesn't know why but, he's not bored while doing even though he's just looking at you . This guy is just attracted to you so damn much.

• And his smol energy level won't allow him to fight that attraction either. However Nagi doesn't dislike that fact. He loves the attraction and you, even if he didn't realise it yet.

A/n: I think the quality is dipped in this one, I kind of rushed it. I apologise for it. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

puppy love (or something like it)

part 1

— And, nevertheless, you waited and waited for his call and never took more than a moment to respond, both of you trailing after each other in an endless (not) lovesick circle like lost puppies.

((eight)teen, barista!gojo x fem!reader)

(word count: 7k)

(tags/warnings: slightly toxic gojo, sort of fwb gojo, cursing, lightest of light smut, underage drinking (be responsible!!), reader is a bit insecure, time jumps, a hint of meaningless flirting. lmk if i missed any!)

no.. i didn't write 7k words in less than 24 hours...idk what this is but it's def something!!!!

AUGUST 2007 –

Satoru Gojo’s senior year of high school flew by in a blur; between sports (to only slightly brag, he brought his football team to regionals and won—he was only the best quarterback his school had seen in a decade or more), honors classes, a full social life, and demanding parents, it felt like he never had a moment for himself. Sure, he was well accomplished for an eighteen-year-old but he was still just that: eighteen years old.

He realized one day, with a startling abruptness around three in the morning before returning from winter break, that the last eighteen years of his life had been lived under the instruction of someone else. In fact, Satoru could hardly recall a single decision he made by and for himself—he wasn't sure that he had. Even his involvement with sports, for all the love he held for it, was pushed at him by his father from a young age. His extroverted, sociable personality was instilled in him by his mother because, as a member of the Gojo clan, he was held to a higher standard (and amount) for his interactions—he could not, would not, should not shy away from it.

Maybe Suguru and Shoko—his closest, more beloved friends. Maybe keeping them around was the only decision he made for himself; especially Suguru, considering his family was not fond of his more humble (not obscenely wealthy) upbringing. 

On that same night, Satoru realized he rather disliked his parents.

So, in the wake of all the enlightenment and wisdom that can befall an eighteen year old boy, he decided to spite them.

It was a brilliant scheme, one that would cause them displeasure and him satisfaction—Satoru decided to take a gap year between high school and college. He ignored their droning warnings and complaints of ‘If you don't go now, you never will,’ ‘We have worked too hard to let you give up and amount to nothing,’ and, his personal favorite: ‘This is all because of that Geto boy! I knew he was a bad influence!’

(As if he ever could “amount to nothing.” The Gojo name secured his future indefinitely, and they all knew it.)

After a month of argument and debate, an agreement was reached—Satoru would take a gap year under the condition he would find a job to keep him motivated and teach him ‘real world skills,’ or whatever his parents insisted minimum wage work would instill in him. His working theory was that they believed threatening him with real work would make him back down and start applying to schools, but that only made him more spiteful and determined to stick it out for a year. For once, he wanted to do something that he chose, not that was chosen for him.

By the time the end of high school came around, Gojo was close to nineteen and determined to prove his parents' warnings unfounded.

He didn't think it would be this difficult.

He thought brewing coffee was supposed to be easy—a couple scoops of this, a pump or two of that, pour and done.

But the rather chatty, too-upbeat-for-even-Satoru barista was droning on about different roasts, optimal temperatures, the proper angle for steaming a cappuccino (what the fuck was a cappuccino), different grinds of coffee beans—anything and everything under the sun. He never knew coffee was so involved. And the syrups—God, the fucking syrups. He was sure he had never seen so many flavors in one place and he sincerely doubted his ability to memorize them. A million flavors with trillion combinations and a seemingly infinite supply of picky customers requesting the most obscure concoctions of mocha and caramel and fucking mint?! 

Even Satoru knew it was a miracle he hadn't been fired.

But lucky for him, he had a pretty face and the shop was understaffed.

So, after four weeks of employment (and the owner realized he was simply untrainable in the art of coffee) Satoru became the designated cashier and eye candy during his shifts.

It suited him and gave him an opening for routine visits with Suguru during his shifts, so long as no customer went unattended or tables un-bussed.

“Suguruuu,” Satoru droned in that whiny, higher pitch that he knew drove his friend up the wall, “I’m boreddd.”

“Satoruuu,” he mocked, “you’ve only been here for an hour.”

“Yeah, and there's nothing to do.” He pouted. He didn't miss his friend’s (mostly) playful eye roll.

“I’m sure you have something to clean.”

“Nuh uh.”

“The table six feet in front of me thinks otherwise.” Satoru responded with a grumbled “shut up,” but made no move to bus the table. “Satoru, you have to start taking this more seriously. Your parents will be livid if they find out you got fired.”

“I don't care what they think.”

“You need their money—I know you didn't forget your deal that fast.” He could only huff at his friend, knowing that he was right. Satoru’s parents agreed to financially support him and his high maintenance life under the condition that he remain employed; they would cover his portion of rent, utilities, and any emergencies so long as he held down this job for one year. “If you're late on rent, I’m kicking you out.”

“No fair!”

“Fine, just a late fee. Then I’ll evict you.”

“Calm down. They're not firing me. I’m too handsome–it brings in too much business.” Satoru joked with a thumb pointing to the boyish smile adorning his face.

“Yes—that’s why the café is just bustling.” Suguru mocked. The café was entirely empty save for them and the barista that went on her break twenty minutes ago. Satoru decided to not be annoyed at her fifteen turning to a twenty—maybe twenty five. 

He had certainly done worse.

The pair fell into silence for a moment as Suguru began typing away at his laptop, and Satoru restlessly tapped his foot, fingers, and anything else within his reach.

“Satoru. Do you mind?”

“I'm still boredddd!” he cried.

“Well, you'll have to find something to occupy yourself today. I’m working on my class project with my partner today.”

“I don't see them.” Satoru playfully tried closing his laptop. “Looks like you’ll just have to hang out with me instead.”

“She's running a little late.” He swatted his hands away, “And you're in her seat.” 

“You're no fun.” He huffed, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Ow, how will I ever regain your high opinion, your majesty?” He dramatically grasped at his chest, leaning back slightly in his chair in mock pain. “Seriously, man, get up, she just walked in, and unlike you, we plan to get some work done today.”

Satoru grumbled, mocking his friend as he stood up from his chair and pushed it under the table. He complained all the way back to his spot behind the register, where he leaned against the counter with his head propped against his hand, looking utterly bored.

“Excuse me?”

Oh right, you probably wanted to order. Maybe he really did need to pay more attention to his job.

“Sorry about that! What can I…” In an instant, Satoru’s heart grew wings and fluttered violently around his ribcage. It felt nauseating.

Why had Suguru never talked about you before?

And fuck you looked at him like he grew six eyes before he realized he was staring like an utter fool. He tried to recover with a casual clearing of his throat and a fake cough into his elbow. “Sorry! Allergies—what can I get started for you?”

“Just a black coffee, thanks.”

“Of course!” He put on his prettiest smile and smoothest voice for you. “It’s on the house today.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Satoru turned around to pour the coffee, feeling comfortable in his hand eye coordination to handle pouring the cup of coffee despite his lack of comprehension of its intricacies. He tried to ignore how casual you were, seemingly unphased by a kind gesture from a handsome stranger. By the time he finished obsessing to turn back around and hand you the cup, you were already sitting at the table with Suguru, the warmest smile he had ever seen with his own eyes pulling at your cheeks and leaving a shimmer in the room.

There was an unusual feeling boiling in his stomach as he approached you with the mug. Why did Suguru get such a sweet smile and he hardly got an acknowledgment? 

That wasn't how it usually went.

“Here’s that coffee for you,” Satoru approached the table, not missing the suspicious look in Suguru’s eyes as he obviously took note of the effort he put in to bring your drink to the table. The few times Satoru has had to make a drink (only ever black coffee, tea, or ice water), he sits it on the pick up counter and calls out the order name, regardless of it being dine-in or to go. He also knew his friend picked up on his rush to bus the messy table, only because it put him in your direct line of sight, but you could not seem to care less.

He wanted your attention.

It was rather odd—Satoru typically had no issues holding a woman’s attention.

But he could wait. He was patient.

Three hours was about all he could manage.

To his benefit, that was the end of his shift, and he was forced to stand there while you sat in beautiful concentration and occasionally conversed with Suguru. He hoped you would come up for a refill, maybe a pastry; it did nothing for him, since you only left your seat once to use the restroom, asking Suguru where to find it rather than himself, which stirred that vicious feeling in his gut again.

He was clocking out, removing his apron, and about to leave when he heard what he had been waiting for from you for the last miserable three hours: “I'm going to head out, same time tomorrow?”

“You got it.” Suguru beamed at you, offering you a small wave after you packed your belongings away and pushed in your chair. 

You smiled again.

“Suguru!” Satoru exclaimed once you closed the door and crossed the street. His friend only groaned in response. “You didn't tell me she was hot!”

That elicited a small chuckle from him. “I didn't think it was important.”

“Why haven't you told me about her?”

“There's nothing to tell, Satoru. She's my research partner. I barely talk to her outside of class.”

“But you do talk to her!” His eyes lit up in excitement. “You have to set me up, dude.”

“Really?” Another laugh. Was he taunting him? “Why would I do that? We both know your history, Satoru, and I'm not having you run her off before we finish our project.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” He whined.

Sure, maybe, Satoru had a history in high school of being a player but that was the old him and he told Suguru as much.

“You mean, like, two months ago?”

“That's still old! And it's been longer than two months! C’mon man, you gotta help me out here.”

“Why do you care so much? She didn't look very interested.”

“Exactly! You know hard to get is my type! And look at her!” He gestured wildly up and down with his hands.

“And you wonder why she wasn't fawning over you.”

“Suguruuu, pleaseee! I’ll clean the kitchen for a month.”

“You already owe me two months of that for the last two favors you asked me.” The bastard was having fun with this, it was obvious in his smug grin. But Satoru’s annoying whiny voice and pleading eyes did the trick, like they did every time. “Fine. I guess I can invite her over to the apartment for a study session—”

“YES!”

“Hang on. You have to promise me that you won’t make a move until our project is done. You're not going to fuck up my grade.”

“Deal.”

“And—”

“Ughhh, what else?”

“She’s pretty cool. Don't fuck her over.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Suguru was true to his word, for the most part. Rather than meeting at the café the next day, you were invited to their shared apartment at noon—the same time that Satoru’s five-hour shift started.

He could've killed him.

And during every grueling moment of his shift, where he was scheduled with Utahime, who refused to chat with him and instead opted to spend her five hour shift scrubbing down the baseboards with a rag and hot water. That only took two hours. Then she began moving fridges, the whole fucking espresso machine and every single other shelf, syrup rack and bottle on the counters to clean under. All to avoid having to speak with him.

To say Satoru was bored out of his mind was an understatement.

He remained as such until exactly five o’clock, when Shoko came to relieve him. She never showed up a minute early or late.

As he clocked out, there was a message waiting for him.

Suguru

4:27pm

yo, can you pick up a twelve pack on your way? 

Satoru

5:03pm

depends

Suguru

5:03pm

on?

Satoru 

5:04pm

how you plan on making up w me after your little private study sess >:(

Suguru

5:05pm

ugh you're so dramatic. she’s staying for dinner, dumbass. 

you're welcome

Satoru made it to the convenience store and back home in record time.

He walked through the front door, after checking his hair in his phone camera to make sure it was still perfectly mussed, with a grin on his face and a twelve pack in hand.

He was ready to extend a greeting to you when he realized his, perhaps fatal, mistake.

He never asked for your name.

Suguru must have realized the dire circumstances Satoru found himself in, because he quickly introduced you and gave no hint at the ridiculously foolish crush he seemed to be harboring for you after half of a conversation and a few lovesick glances.

You replied with a casual, “Hey,” and a close-lipped smile, and Satoru felt his knees weaken.

“We were just about to order dinner, you good with pizza?”

“Hell yeah.”

NOVEMBER 2007 –

Autumn came and went as all seasons before; suddenly. And so, in similar fashion, winter began creeping in as the calendar flipped to November, leaving more of a chill in the air with each passing day.

You were swept away in a wave of classes, homework, projects, and newfound friendships—most notably (and the least expected) being Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru. 

Suguru was perhaps the sweetest boy you had met in college. He was considerate of you, never toeing the line of being anything more than your friend; he worked hard with you on your project, and you majorly credited him and his tutoring to your current passing grade in Yaha’s biology class. You frequently met at the local café just off campus for coffee and the occasional blueberry scone where Satoru was almost always working. It was difficult for you to connect with others, your more impassive demeanor leading others to believe you were catty or rude. Suguru never seemed to think that of you, always being a comforting, warm contrast to you. You were grateful to have him as your friend. 

Him letting you braid his hair was merely an added bonus.

Shoko became another close, deeply loved friend to you. She was at Suguru and Satoru’s apartment almost as frequently as you (any chance to escape dorm life was welcomed), and while she was almost as slow opening up to strangers as you, she was never anything less than loving and kind. You joined her for her smoke breaks on the patio, you listened to her gossip about friends or work or class—anything and everything under the sun. When you sprained your ankle in the middle of September (an incident involving copious amounts of liquor and an electric scooter that she did not hesitate to gently mock you for), she wrapped your ankle every day for a week and a half and mothered you until she believed you were clear to resume your normal activities. You decided against telling her it would still hurt a little after climbing stairs or wearing sandals.

And Satoru… well, he was Satoru; always toeing over the line between friendly and flirtatious, always back and forth, hot and cold, clingy and distant depending on the day. You were more unfamiliar with him than Suguru and Shoko. Not to say you were not fond of him—he always knew how to make you laugh. His inattentive personality always guaranteed entertainment, a dull moment never being a thought with him, and he was certainly charismatic despite him seeming overall an enigma to you—an unusual mix of obvious transparency yet never beyond a surface level. While you knew he would like to believe otherwise, he was blatant in his initial affections for you. That only lasted through the middle of October, where he seemed to realize his advances went unnoticed. He put the pieces together when Shoko mentioned your boyfriend back home and dropped the notion altogether. 

That was one thing you could always credit him for—he knew when it was time to stop; whether it was a joke, a game, his excitable energy, or anything else for that matter. While his antics were an essential part of his personality, Satoru was still mature and empathetic in spite of his best effort to prove otherwise. The playful flirting was still present from both of you, but never more than just that—playful, but enough to maintain a gray area that left you confused more often than not.

Still, you cared for him, in spite of his flaws and the confusing nature of your friendship.

And his horrible latte-making skills.

You had to give him credit for trying, and there certainly was improvement from his first drink, but the espresso always tasted burned and the milk was a little cold and lacking any sort of aeration or foam. 

You just didn't have the heart to tell him.

Suguru, however, certainly did.

“Satoru, you've worked here for how long now? How did you manage to make a steamer taste burned?”

“Okay, Karen, I’ll remake it for you.”

“No, I will.” Shoko piped up from behind the counter. It was one of the rare shifts that the manager had no option but to schedule Shoko and Satoru together—an occurrence you found she tried desperately to avoid, knowing that you and Suguru would be in the café and distracting the two for the duration of the shift. But, with the majority of her other staff having taken off for the upcoming holidays or cramming for exams, she had little option.

“Thank you, Shoko.” You couldn't help but sympathize with your friend, despite his disdain for anything interpreted as pity. The stress of exams seemed to weigh heavily on him. “It’s a miracle you're still employed, man.”

“Hey! I already told you, I’m just the eye candy.”

Shoko scoffed from behind the counter, earning a grumpy look in her direction.

“As if.” You taunted, never tearing your gaze from your laptop.

“Soooo…” Satoru began, changing the topic of conversation away from mockery at his expense, “Are you guys going to Utahime’s party tomorrow?”

“Are you sure she even invited you? I thought she hated you.”

“Pssh, what're you talking about? She loves me!” He replied, which earned him an incredulous look from the three of you. “And anyway, I’m Suguru’s plus one.”

“You are?”

Before he could question further, Satoru turned his attention to you, “Are you going?”

“Oh, I really don't know… I have to study for my exams.”

“Oh, c’monnnn,” He whined, “You can take one night to have fun. You've been glued to that thing for days now.” To emphasize his point, Satoru closed your computer, leaving you thankful for the auto-save feature on your document.

You felt torn, wanting to enjoy an evening with your friends but also needing to prioritize your studies. You were dangerously underprepared and couldn’t risk less than perfection on your exam.

But what’s one night?

“Okay, fine. But only for a couple hours, then I’m coming home to study.”

Satoru threw his fist in the air as a sign of victory, finally leaving your personal space to return behind the counter where he was finishing his closing duties for the night. From what you've been told, he always seemed to work harder when you were around, though you couldn't understand why.

“It’ll be good for you to get out.” Suguru commented with a soft look in his eyes, “You’ve been pretty closed off since the break-up.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I know. It’s just weird, I guess. The distance and all made things hard, but…”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached out to gently rub your shoulder, knowing these conversations were far from your strong suit. “This’ll be good for you. I’ll make sure you have someone to talk to.”

“Thank you, Sugu.”

Shoko came around a moment later with a latte in one hand and a steamer in the other. She sat them on the table and threw a wink in your direction, seemingly noticing even behind the counter that your original drink sat untouched. You usually ordered a black coffee when Satoru was at the espresso bar (which you still received a few questionable cups of), but he was insistent on making your latte today, claiming to have been practicing just for you. He had been more distant than clingy lately, and could not help but cave to the sudden attention he was showing you.

That was something else about Satoru—you found yourself craving his approval after a short time of his friendship. It was a realization that you would never make apparent to him for fear of inflating his ego or exasperating his behavior, and one that frustrated you to no end. Never before had you craved attention in such a way, not even from your ex-boyfriend, who, in all honesty, was wholly inattentive and unaffectionate even before the distance.

You spared a moment from your laptop to watch him behind the counter as he cleaned underneath syrup racks and jugs of chocolate and realized you knew little to nothing about Satoru Gojo. 

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone there.” There was a look in Suguru’s eye that gave the missing context to his words.

You scoffed, “As if. You know that’s not quite my scene.”

“I’m just saying.” he replied, throwing his hands up in defense, “You could probably do with a little stress relief. You haven’t gone anywhere other than your dorm, my place, or here in weeks. Let loose a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” 

As promised, you arrived at the party already one drink in, and with a six pack of your favorite beer after asking Utahime what the drink selection would be like. She rattled off a list of various spirits that you knew would leave you hungover, miserable, and unable to resume your studies in the morning.

It was more crowded than you expected.

In fact, it was nearly shoulder to shoulder as you made your way through the house to find a spot in the fridge to sit your drinks. What should have been a thirty-second walk to the kitchen turned into a three-minute debacle. After being stopped by two drunken classmates who were shocked to see you while you were finding an empty couch to lay your coat and weaving through a dozen or so bodies, you finally made it to the fridge. Unsurprisingly, it was stuffed full of snacks, bottled water, sodas, and a dozen or so bottles of rum, whiskey, vodka and who-knows-what-else meaning you had to remove each individual bottle from the box to find an opening for them, leaving one out for you to start on.

With your head in the fridge and being entirely unaware of your surroundings, you were startled when you heard your name called, resulting in you slamming your head straight into the top of the fridge before you straightened and turned around. There was no concealing your embarrassment as you came face-to-face with the originator.

And you weren’t shocked to find him stifling a laugh.

“Thanks for that, Gojo.” You knew he hated it when you called him that.

“Wow, so it’s like that? And here I was, about to offer you a drink.” You raised the opened bottle in your hand to show your lack of necessity for one. “Bleh, I don’t know how you drink that shit.” “I could say the same for you. I think I saw you adding simple syrup to your drink when I came in.”

“It was only like three pu—wait, you did not!”

“Gotcha.” You flashed him a smile, and for a moment thought he looked mildly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. “You’re too predictable, Gojo.”

“Nooooo, you know I hate it when you call me that.” He whined, playfully stamping his feet in a way that indicated he probably already had more than one drink. It was difficult to tell with him, considering the more wild side of his personality shone brightest in crowds. He was an extrovert through and through.

“Don’t give me a reason to call you that.”

“You’re so mean.” He pouted, a sultry undertone lacing his voice.

“You love it, though.” You teased, looking up at him underneath your lashes.

It felt unusual, the banter between you. What felt more unusual was the one-on-one interaction. For a moment, you couldn't place why until you realized you hadn’t had a single interaction with Satoru where Shoko or Suguru wasn’t around as a buffer in more than a month. In fact, he had been mostly absent since you broke things off with your boyfriend.

Was he avoiding you?

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot.” His cheeks were flushed but he did not backtrack.

“Shut up,” you blushed, rolling your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Where’s Suguru?”

“That eager to get rid of me?”

“Yes—where is he?”

“No clue, but I think Shoko’s around somewhere.”

“Thanks, pretty boy.” He grew even more red, if possible.

Maneuvering around the bodies in the dining room with two drinks in your hand (one for you and one for Shoko)  and leaving behind a mildly flustered Satoru, you found her exactly where you expected—outside by the bonfire with a cigarette in her lips and a blissed look in her eyes that told you she’d had more than just alcohol. You called out to her, and she smiled at you, waving her hand over to invite you to sit beside her. You tried not to laugh as her cigarette fell from her lips to the ground.

“Hey, girl!” She called out to you. “So glad you made it out!”

You gave a polite nod and smile, settling in beside her as the conversation resumed around you but mostly without you. You didn’t mind much; you were content with not having to navigate the interaction with people you didn’t know. You made a few comments here and there, mostly responding to polite questions and statements towards you.

“What’s your name? “What’re you studying?”

“I haven’t seen you around before.” “Oh! You’re friends with Geto and Gojo, right?”

“You’re in Yaga’s class, right? He’s such a hardass!”

It was enjoyable for a few moments, but after twenty or so minutes, the conversation seemed to leave you behind for the most part. 

When your drink was empty and you were comfortably buzzed, you took that as your sign to be leaving. Shoko tried to give pushback but resigned to expressing gratitude that you came out to begin with.

“If you see Suguru, tell him I’m sorry I missed him.” You slurred. “You got it!”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to brave the treacherous navigation of the house when you could have circled around to the front yard—something like one more beer and a couple of crackers calling your name before leaving, or whatever other excuse your tipsy mind convinced you of. Regardless, you found yourself back at the fridge with another drink in your hand that was disappearing in an alarming amount of time.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.”

How did he keep finding you?

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he whined, “What did I do to deserve that one?”

“My head still hurts.” “Hey! I didn’t make you hit your head.” 

“Then I’m preparing for the next time you're bad.”

“C’mon, you know I stay on my best behavior for you.” And there were those damn puppy dog eyes, only there for a moment as you could feel him switch to watching you in mild concern as you tipped your head back to take another long swig. “Ya know, when we said you needed to let loose a bit, we did only mean a bit.”

“I’ve only had a bit.” He made a sound to indicate he didn’t believe you as he leaned against the fridge door. “And besides, I’m leaving now.”

“You didn’t drive, did you?”

“No, I just walked. It’s not far.”

“Wait,” Looking embarrassed at his eagerness, “I can take you home. You live on campus, right?”

“Are you sure? You looked like you were having a pretty good time. And wait—haven’t you been drinking?”

“I barely touched the one I had. Too strong. Scouts honor.” He lazily raised three fingers and folded his thumb over his pinky. “I was going to DD for Suguru, but he found someone to leave with. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Wow, so you really do just act like this all the time.”

“Mean.”

“You know you love it.” And there was that flush in his cheeks again.

The ride to your dorm was relatively quiet. Upbeat pop music played softly in the background as Satoru kept both of his eyes glued to the road, being on high alert for the possibility of drunk drivers on a Friday night. It felt comfortable, you thought. Your moments with Satoru were few and far between these days—you would be willing to wager that tonight was the most one-on-one time you had spent with him in more than a month. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but you couldn’t help but feel insecure about it. Were you that miserable that Satoru Gojo, the extrovert to end all extroverts, could only handle your company with a buffer? It certainly could not have been the case, considering his apparent willingness to drive you home. Then again, he knew how close you were with Suguru, and despite his arrogance, Satoru was a good person. He wouldn’t let you walk home alone when it was so late, Suguru would be livid.

Right?

Too lost in thought to notice he was already parked in front of your building, Satoru softly spoke your name. “You good?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired. Thanks for the lift.” You began to reach for your keys in your coat pocket when you realized that you were not wearing your coat. Unable to hide your frustration at your blatant forgetfulness, you groaned loudly and threw your head back.

“What’s wrong?” “I left my keys in my coat pocket at Utahime’s, and my roommate isn’t home.”

“I can just take you to mine and Suguru’s place.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’m sure I’ve got something that’ll fit you.”

It was only another eight minutes to the apartment, but it felt like the longest drive of your life, unable to stifle the anxiety building in your gut. In the most casual tone you could muster, you offered him an out. “You can drop me back at the party or something if you need; I don’t want to intrude.” Satoru looked at you with pure astonishment. “You could never.” He said it with such sincerity, a rather rare sentiment from him.

Upon your arrival at his apartment, Satoru kicked off his shoes and wandered to the fridge, and you made yourself comfortable on the couch. He returned to you in the living room with a beer in one hand and a can of grape soda in the other. He handed you the beer with a silent question posed as a raised eyebrow, asking if you wanted another. You accepted with a polite nod.

He joined you on the couch, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat and throwing an arm around the back. You could smell his cologne, slightly musky with a hint of vanilla and something signature to Satoru and only Satoru. He leaned his head back and inhaled deeply. You couldn’t keep yourself from staring at his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down, looking altogether tempting from your position. It was comfortably silent as the two of you sat on the couch together, breathing in the comfort of each other’s scent. You entirely forgot about your previous anxieties, recalling the familiarity of his presence and enjoying the remnants of your buzz.

“I’m glad you came out tonight.” His head never raised, and you stared at his throat as he spoke—his milky skin that never seemed to tan no matter how much time he spent in the sun, the wisps of hair that flipped in all directions by his ears and the nape of his neck, the barely visible shaved sides of his neatly trimmed undercut, the sharpness of his collarbones that peeked out from his t-shirt. 

He looked… tempting.

In that moment, you understood why he was so desired. Half of the girls in your college sought after him, despite him not being a student.

Suguru’s comment from the day before rang in your ears.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone there.”

You realized too late that you forgot to respond. “I can feel you staring, ya know?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” “I don’t need to. You’re doing it for me.” He finally rested his gaze on you but still never moved his head, only cutting a lazy sideways glance in your direction. Even in the dim lamplight of the living room, his eyes were all consuming. You didn’t think you had ever seen them so up close. You thought for a moment that he held an ocean in his eyes—it was the only explanation for their unnatural, almost more than human hue. Maybe he was just Satoru Gojo, and his name alone was enough to blur the lines between possible and impossible.

It was infuriating.

(Or maybe you had more to drink than you thought.)

“What else am I doing for you?” You purred. Everything in your mind screamed this was a bad idea, that you were about to leap over the line of playful and purposeful, but you couldn’t stop yourself—not when he snuck half-second glances at your lips, and his own looked so soft as they parted slightly with a small line of spit keeping them connected.

“I could show you better than tell you.” His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his teeth bit down on the lower slightly. Despite your focus on the sight, you didn’t miss the way his hips slightly shifted and his legs spread out a little wider.

It was intentional.

“C’mon then, Gojo. Don’t keep me waiting.”

He inched closer, a large hand coming to cup your check as he shifted his arm from the couch cushion to wrap around your waist and pull you into his side. “You know what to call me.”

“I think you can show me better than tell me.” 

The tension snapped. Self control was a distant thought of a forgotten memory as Satoru utterly devoured you. The two of you were a mess of teeth and tongues and wandering hands as he trailed from your check to gently rest on your throat. He brought his thumb around and offered a hesitant squeeze to your throat to gauge your reaction. You assumed he found what he was looking for in the low moan you released because he applied the perfect amount of pressure—enough to make your mind fuzzy but not so much to cause discomfort, and you let out a choked moan that made him smile evilly against your lips.

“I always knew you’d be into this.” He pulled slightly away from you, lightly increasing the pressure applied against your throat to hold you in place as you tried chasing his lips. “Ah, ah.” He pulled farther away, making a point to raise his head high enough that he cut his eyes to look down on you. “What are you supposed to call me?”

“Satoru.” You purred.

“Good girl.” He cooed, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He pulled you into his lap, and you knew he was blissfully unaware that you had him right where you wanted him. You hovered just above the growing hardness in his pants, ignoring his pawing hands guiding you down.

“Don't be a brat.” He emphasized it with a slap to your ass. You could feel the skin turning red.

It made you feel spiteful.

Adding to your spite was Suguru, who was fumbling with his key just outside of the front door. He must have dropped them three times and spent another few seconds searching for the right one to unlock the door; it was fortunate for you, considering the compromising position you found yourself in at the moment. Satoru immediately threw you off of him and shot up to run to his bedroom, the tent in his jeans so painfully obvious that even Suguru in his piss drunk state would have caught on.

Whether or not he would catch your flushed cheeks and overall airlessness was yet to be determined.

“Satoruu!” He called through the apartment, “How many times do I have to tell you to lock the door behind you?”

“Sorry, was a bit distracted,” he replied, far too casually for you to feel content with what just happened. You were still out of breath. “Someone left their keys at Utahime’s, she’s gonna crash here tonight. Anyway, I thought I saw you leaving?

“Yeah, to grab food.” Suguru hiccuped, “What do you think I am, a whore?”

“Well, yeah.”

He only responded to that with an eye roll, “I’m throwing up and going to bed. Have a good night.” He said your name, still unaware of your flustered state, “You know where the extra blankets are, I’ve got clothes in the dryer if you need ‘em.”

“Thanks, Sugu.”

JULY 2008 —

Your freshman year felt like it was over before it ever truly began. You stayed swept up in schoolwork and classes following winter break, practically suffocating in it.

Suguru and Shoko stayed a life saving constant for you. They never faulted you when you had to cancel plans, and Suguru even offered to do your homework if it meant it would take a weight off your shoulders. Of course, you declined, but the offer nearly brought you to tears. Being himself, he brushed it off as nothing and made you well aware it was an open, no strings attached offer. Shoko was there for several near catastrophic breakdowns, being a comforting presence and refusing to let you bum a cigarette from her, instead offering you a beer or your favorite scone from the cagé—you were thankful she didn't allow you to compromise your health like that.

And Satoru… well, he was still Satoru but in a different light.

You never talked about what happened.

You never talked about the other times it almost happened, either.

You never mentioned that it was why you stopped drowning in schoolwork at his and Suguru’s apartment and stayed in your dorm more often than not.

You never asked him if it meant anything, knowing the answer already. You knew he ebbed and flowed in his own ununderstandable ways, and you knew you couldn't subject yourself to his fickle personality as anything more than a friend. You also knew better than to question him, holding out for the moments that he was more on than off.

But still, things changed.

More often than not, he trailed after you like a puppy, always seeking your approval or praise and switching back to giving you free coffees when he was on shift. You knew it meant nothing, since he started doing the same for Shoko and Suguru. The end of his mandatory employment was rapidly approaching, and he couldn't be bothered to care about the repercussions—they were nothing to him; who would fire the great Satoru Gojo and risk the wrath of his obscenely affluent family? There were times he would bring your favorite latte to you, regardless of if you were in your dorm or at his apartment. There were times he brought a blueberry scone too—if the café was out, he brought you peach instead.

The flirting never stopped. It also never increased but it was charged, with the feeling of his hands around your throat, and the taste of his lips and tongue. If you focused on the moment hard enough, you could still remember the rasp in his voice when he called you “good girl.”

It was painful.

It was nothing in comparison to the line of women he consistently brought to the apartment, regardless of your presence.

It made you sick—not from unrequited affection (or so you told yourself) but from the implication that you were only a failed conquest; the confirmation that Satoru would only do as Satoru pleased, and you were a placeholder between his hookups or failed talking stages.

Still, he was your friend. Still, you cared. Still, you were lost without him.

And still, he was dreadful at lattes.

And nevertheless, you waited and waited for his call and never took more than a moment to respond, both of you trailing after each other in an endless (not) lovesick circle like lost puppies.

You realized it was rather pathetic when you picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, 'Toru.” 

“Are you busy?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“What are you about to ask for?”

“You. Suguru’s out for the night.”

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

For all nineteen years of wisdom that Satoru possessed, you wondered if he could see what he was doing to you. 

(accidentally made this SAD., my apologies!! i will not be changing,. anyway, updating to add sneak peak of pt 2 :3)

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 4

Part 3

Request from @gojodeluluwifeu

Yuuji Itadori slowly awoke. With only the flames of several candles to illuminate this prison-like room with paper seals, he almost felt like a doomed protagonist in a horror movie. For better or worse, he had a companion sitting across from him.

Satoru Gojo wore a nonchalant, expectant grin. “Yo.”

“You are… !” The memories of the monster attack hit him like a train and he fussed around in his seat, soon realizing that his arms were bound behind him. He whipped his head towards Gojo. “Where is my sister? What happened to my friends? Are they still alive–”

“Hm, you’re not really in a position to be worrying about other people. Actually, you know what, I guess we should talk about your sister. Though I already know she’s just a neighbor.”

“Huh?”

Gojo pulled out a tablet and opened a file for Yuuji to see. At first glance it appeared to be your resume, as it had a 2x2 ID photo of you in formal wear and your basic information written right next to the image, but the more Yuuji read, he realized that it was far more terrifying than a simple resume. 

Gojo used his finger to scroll down the document, which had to be around fifty pages at least. “Age, birth place, height and weight… even her three measurements are here.”

Yuuji stomped his feet. “Why do you–”

Gojo turned the tablet around and began to read, “No clubs or extracurriculars. All her grades are either slightly below or slightly above the school average. Only two instances of getting called to office, once in middle school, and again in high school, both times were because teachers suspected that she was being bullied, but both times she told the adults involved ‘not to worry’ and that she ‘just doesn’t like socializing.’ 

Other notes from previous teachers were similar: ‘That kid was always quiet, never caused trouble,’ ‘She doesn’t seem to be hated but no one ever approaches her… she doesn’t approach anyone either,’ ‘I don’t know if she’s shy or maybe she really likes her space, either way, she won’t go far in life if she keeps to herself like this,’ ‘She never skipped class, though whenever she called in to say that she couldn’t come it was due to a family emergency,’ hm…

Her classmates and former employers didn’t have much to say about her, too. They kept using the same words: ‘keeps to herself,’ ‘doesn’t cause trouble but doesn’t talk either,’ ‘I don’t remember much about her,’ uwah–there is even a detailed calendar here full of her class and work schedules. Let’s see… apparently she missed school whenever you or your grandfather were sick or hospitalized. Same thing with her part-time jobs.” 

Gojo read on, nodding his head.

“Ichiji is surprisingly talented at this. It’s almost creepy.”

“Wait! What’s going on? Why do you have records on Y/N-nee?!”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“???”

“According to the other people in your neighborhood, you’re not blood-related and she’s not even your step-sister or adoptive sister, she’s literally just the girl from next door. And you’ve heard the things other people have to say about her, there is nothing special about that person. If anything, she has to be one of the most boring people I know.”

“Don’t insult her! S-sure she’s quiet and doesn’t like interacting beyond the bare minimum, but towards me she’s kind and selfless and even a bit overprotective! She’s not perfect but she’s not boring or average or horrible!”

“... Do you know what happened to her parents?”

If he were thinking more clearly, Yuuji would’ve kept his mouth shut but he was furious and couldn’t help himself. “They’re abroad. They send money regularly but Nee-chan has always been alone in that house. That’s why grandpa and I let her sleep over sometimes. She’s always been…alone.” Wait. Yuuji scrunched his eyebrows. Alone? That can’t be right.

“‘They’re abroad,’ is what she said to you.”

“That’s right.”

“Itadori, there are no records of her parents ever leaving the country.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Grandpa said that she told us that the first day we met her.”

“Hm. Itadori-kun, do you recall the date that you moved in with your grandfather?”

Yuuji didn’t remember much about his childhood before his grandfather, the two of them have always been together for as long as he could remember. It was the same with you. Always together…

Gojo showed him a page from the tablet. It was an affidavit of ownership. “Before that, let me ask you, do you know whose house your ‘sister’ used to live in? The one next to your grandfather’s.” 

“What kind of question is that? Obviously it belonged to her–her parents, of course. That’s her last name.” 

“This house belongs to a family with the last name L/N. But look here.” Gojo scrolled down and showed a picture of a family of five. There was a father, a mother, two young boys in middle school, a boy no older than two, and a dog. “This photo was taken back in 2003, a year before your birthday. They’re the only family members who lived in that house.”

“So? She’s probably a distant relative.”

Gojo shook his head. “We actually asked the other neighbors. Everyone also believes that she’s some cousin from the province. But it’s strange that you all believed that she belonged to that family when no one should be living there in the first place.”

“You just said that that family owned it.”

“Yup, you’re right, they owned that house.”

Yuuji blinked. What?

“I hope you have a tough stomach.” Gojo scrolled down. 

Yuuji’s stomach stirred and he bent over as far as his bondage would allow him. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry. He refused to look up, the image of those poor parents hugging their children will forever be burned in his memory. “Why are you showing me this?”

“This L/N family was brutally murdered on the night of **** **, ****.”

“That… that’s…

“That’s the same date your grandfather took you in, isn’t it?”

Yuuji doesn’t remember it himself, but his grandfather told him once and you often mentioned that date when you brought up his toddler days. 

He reluctantly opened his mouth. “Did… did she…” He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t even think about it. Memories of you smiling, laughing, taking care of him and grandpa, and welcoming him home flooded Yuuji’s senses. 

“Ah,” Gojo interrupted, “she didn’t kill them if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Eh?”

“The doggie bit one of the burglars. Hard. And she bit him in the *ahem* boxers. He and his partner were caught almost immediately.” Gojo showed him the mug shots.

Yuuji: ??????

“She had nothing to do with this murder, but after the funeral, the house was bought immediately. After further investigation, we discovered that it was bought under a fake name. She was a child when the land was purchased, but it couldn’t have been her parents, and there are no signs of other people having lived there other than her. Not to mention, the whole neighborhood bought into her lie that she was a visiting cousin. Isn’t that odd?”

Odd? Major understatement. There were many holes. Number one thing was that no one seemed to remember the murders. Even if it was fifteen years ago, Yuuji would’ve heard of it, if not for his grandfather then from the other kids. Children love horror stories after all. And yet…

“You’re telling me that…Nee-chan has been sleeping, eating and bathing in a murder house?”

“Well, I assure you, there are no curses or ghosts in that area. Luckily, the family passed on without any grudges, perhaps because they were with each other when they died? Anyway, normal humans have no way of knowing that the house is clean. Usually, unless you’re dirt poor or an idiot, you would never even consider living in a potentially haunted house.”

“That’s…!” Yuuji stopped himself. “Wait. What did you mean earlier that her parents couldn’t have possibly bought the house?”

Gojo tilted his head. “Because they’re dead.”

He presented an old newspaper article. It was dated a few weeks before the family’s death. The headline read: COUPLE FOUND DEAD IN THEIR OWN HOME, ***-OLD DAUGHTER NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.

“The bodies were described as having been ‘torn apart from the inside,’ but there were no weapons that fit the wounds. There was only a large puddle of water soaking the corpses… ‘Based on testimonies from neighbors, the couple were suspected of abusing their daughter, whose current whereabouts remain unknown. It is likely that she has been kidnapped.’” Gojo glanced at him. “You get it, right? The couple mentioned here are Y/N’s birth parents. They lived in a rural area with a town population of less than 5000. They don’t even have a convenience store–or a mall. Ouch.”

Gojo looked at Yuuji. “The murder itself was brutal but it never reached national news. Still, a lot of things don’t add up.”

“...I-if they’re dead then…” then why did you act like they were still alive and well? How could you smile and walk around as if everything was fine?

“Well, anyway, those things are minor.”

“Hah?!” Minor?!

“The crux of the matter is this: you ate a finger of a cursed spirit known as Ryomen Sukuna, and he called Y/N his wife. Not to mention, just before passing out, she called you her child.”

“...!”

“From what I can tell, Sukuna seems to treasure her a lot, and yet there is nothing about her background that points to her being any more special than the average Jane. What are you? And what is your relationship with that woman?”

Yuuji gritted his teeth. ‘That woman’ was his precious older sister, who took care of him when Grandpa was at work, who cleaned up his wounds when he got hurt playing, who loved him so much she couldn’t stand by as a monster attacked him.

“She…”

***

Over a decade ago, in a tiny house by the foot of a mountain, you watched as gigantic icicles–bigger than yourself–tear through your mother. She was arguing with your father, who was now on the floor, gasping and clutching at his chest. He too had large pieces of jagged ice pierced all over him. 

When he caught you in the corner, a wry grin made its way to his face, that was the only time you ever saw a semblance of a smile from him. He reached out his arm towards you. “H-hurry up, c…call s-s-someone–ARGH!” 

The hand reaching out to you was cut by a blade of ice. 

He squirmed and screamed before another cold knife cut his face in half. The kitchen fell silent. 

At that time, did you feel afraid? Did you feel sad? You couldn’t remember.

“This servant deeply apologizes for being so late.” A handsome woman, or maybe they were a pretty man, stepped out of the shadows and walked towards you. 

The doll-like person with snow white skin and wearing traditional clothes knelt down. They offered you a small smile. “I offer my greetings to the madam.”

“...are you… going to kill me, too?”

He shook his head. “This servant would never.”

“Then…” 

“I came here to ensure that you were living peacefully until the lord’s return, but regretfully, even in this life you are treated like this. I tried to make them suffer before dying, but my temper has gotten the best of me. This servant apologizes.”

The person said things you didn’t understand, but you at least knew this much: they weren’t going to hurt you. 

“My lady, I’m afraid you can’t live here anymore.”

The beautiful, doll-like creature that introduced themselves as “Uraume” packed what few materials that belonged to you and led you away. Their skin was colder than the air of a fridge, yet you never felt more safe and warm than when they held your hand on the way to your new abode.

“Uraume-san–”

“Please just call me ‘Uraume,’ my lady, this servant doesn’t dare to be referred to in any other way.”

“R-right. Uraume, you said that I will be living in a different neighborhood.”

“Yes. I handled everything. Though humans have evolved into being more efficient, the paperwork was too much.”

“Will I be living alone?”

They gave you a sad smile. “It would be the highest honor to wait on the lady, but I still have much to prepare for Sukuna-sama’s arrival.”

“Sukuna…sama?”

“He has never tired of searching for you, I’m sure he will be very happy to know that you are now safe and well.”

“Does that mean… that he cares for me?”

Their eyes seemed to sparkle. “Such words are too light to describe the weight of his feelings. Sukuna-sama has devoted every part of himself to you. When you died, he never remarried, and when other sorcerers or village chiefs offered him brides, he would slaughter them all without hesitation. He was especially mad when the women looked like you in any way, be it height, skin color or hair color. This servant personally put their severed heads on poles to be displayed for all to see as a warning. One time, he…”

You didn’t really get it. This person spouted out a lot of information that you didn’t grasp, like a hardcore fan talking about their idol to a normie. 

They seemed to be having fun so you let them talk the entire trip to your new house. 

“Do you like it, madam?” Uraume asked as you examined the residence from outside. “It’s small, but putting you in an apartment complex was out of the question. It would’ve been nice if we got you a mansion but the people I spoke to claimed that only this house was available. Unbelievable, Sukuna-sama would never have tolerated this–”

“I like it.”

“Hm?”

You turned to Uraume and smiled. “I like it, Uraume. Thank you for your efforts.”

Uraume blinked. Then they slowly covered their mouth. “M-my lady, your smile is as radiant as I remember.”

“Are you crying?”

“This servant will go and organize everything so please relax as much as you like!” They then dashed inside.

What an odd person, you thought. But you didn’t want to go inside just yet, not because you were afraid of potential ghosts. Uraume explained the truth about the house before the drive here, and they didn’t seem bothered with it so why should you? 

However, the house was still full of movers carrying furniture and whatnot, and you’d rather avoid people. 

As you thought about where to pass time, something tugged the hem of your dress.

“Fwah…”

You glanced down and found a toddler pulling on your skirt. “Huh? Go away.”

“Mm?” The baby raised his head and met your eyes, and time stopped.

Your head felt heavy and everything around the toddler turned blurry. 

“Yuu…ji?” 

Huh? Did you say something just now? 

“There you are, Yuuji! You almost gave me a heart attack. I’m pretty sure I locked the door, how do you keep escaping?” An old man came over and picked up the child from the ground. “What on Earth am I going to do with you…hm?”

The old man finally noticed you. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

You kept your eyes on the child, who was clapping his hands. “I…I just moved in.”

“Moved in? Where? Oh.” He scratched his stubble when he realized it. “That’s unfortunate.”

You stared at the baby in his arms. Its cheeks were so chubby. You wanted to pinch them until he cried. 

“It’s not my place to say this but… maybe you and your family would be better off going someplace else…” The man whispered.

“What do you mean?” You finally looked away from the toddler.

He sighed. “It’s complicated, but since your parents bought the land they probably already know. It’s a pity. This little one and I will be moving out soon and you could’ve gotten our house instead.”

“Moving out?”

“It’s nothing a kid like you should concern yourself with. Let’s just say that after everything, it’d be bad luck to stay here, right, Yuuji?”

“Ehehe,” the baby garbled out a laugh, making a spit bubble. 

“You can’t leave…” 

“What’s that?” The man turned to you.

You gazed deep into his eyes and repeated, “You can’t leave.”

“We have to, little miss. It’s the best thing for us. I’m not sentimental but I don’t believe in tempting fate. I don’t know if you’re aware but living in this street feels wrong after the mur–ahem, after the incident.”

“What incident?”

“Like I said, you’re too young–”

“There wasn’t any incident.”

“What’re you talking about? Ah, I guess your parents didn’t tell you, after all.”

“There wasn’t any incident,” you said again, never breaking eye contact. “Nothing happened, everything is fine. You’re not going anywhere.”

Your mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your mind was muddied. 

The old man stared back at you, unblinking and silent for a whole minute, before his lips moved, “I haven’t seen you before.”

“No. I just moved in with the L/N’s.” You pointed at your new house. 

“Ah, I see. Are you a visiting cousin or something?”

“Yes. My parents are working abroad so my aunt and uncle decided to take me in.”

“Aha, I see. They’re good people, your aunt and uncle, though their sons are a bit rowdy.”

“Yes, they are.” You turned to the baby who was now looking at you with curious eyes.

The old man noticed and proceeded to introduce himself and the kid. “I’m your neighbor, Wasuke Itadori, and this one’s named Yuuji. His parents are… not here, so I’m in charge of him.”

The baby beamed before reaching out his fat sausage arm towards you.

You offered him a finger and he grabbed it tightly as he giggled.

“Nice to meet you. My name is…”

You opened your eyes, a bit groggy from a dream you could no longer remember. 

“Finally awake?” A woman asked. She had long brown hair and wore a lab coat. A doctor. “Hello, I’m Shoko Ieiri. Do you remember who you are?”

You rose to a sitting position, but didn’t answer. 

“Do you know today’s date?”

You stared at her. “Where is Yuuji?”

“Hm… how do you know that name?”

“Yuuji is my neighbor but we’re more like family. Where is he?”

“He was right…” Shoko murmured as she wrote something on her clipboard. When she noticed you glaring, she put it away and grinned. “Don’t worry, he’s indisposed but otherwise in good health. You’ll be able to meet up with him in a few minutes. We need to focus on your condition right now.”

“I’m perfectly healthy.” You raised your arms in an attempt to show how fine you were. “Nothing hurts and I remember my own name and the date today. Please let me see him.” 

Before she could reply, her phone buzzed and she excused herself.

As she stepped out to answer the call, you stared at your hands as they pulled on your blanket. 

“Yuuji…”

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumanii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @boba–12 @certainduckanchor @langweile @amitiel-truth @qualityprincessrunaway @thatoneweirdgirl17 @lilith-snape

A/N: This took longer than expected. But anyway, happy human holidays, everyone! Comments are always appreciated.

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

The Problem With Portals

Stiles Stilinski x Supernatural Fem!Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Y/N is new to beacon hills but not new to constantly having to move. She only hopes for temporary stability and kindness from others when her past begins to catch up with her as it always does. Will she explain herself to the boy she's gotten the attention of, or will she move again to avoid destruction? (Characters in college)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, obsession, groping, angst, oral (m recieving), mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA, mentions of NonCon, swearing, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Coming back to rewatch MTV's Teen Wolf and falling in love with Stiles all over again so we had to do a smutty fic. It's heavily inspired by my love of fairy lore and cryptozoology as a whole... and of course... Stiles. Duh! Thinking of void Stiles as well. More to come, stay tuned. Please, enjoy!! And as always, i love all the support and appreciate all the interaction!! Cheers!

Word Count: 8k

THE PROBLEM WITH PORTALS

Walking into class late was the worst. You knew everyone's eyes would be drawn to you. Especially when you're the new girl, and not just the new girl, the creepy loner new girl with a sketchy checkered past who is also a supernatural being. So that's cool.

You could hear the other people snicker and whisper behind your back. The rumors they created in the absence of knowledge just basic human nature. They'd say you kept moving because you're violent, that you set your last school on fire, and that you were a killer. It wasn't your job to make them smarter, to explain yourself in any way. You liked it this way. If they thought you were unapproachable, it saved you time. No attention, no trouble. Trouble is what you've been trying to avoid, hence the reason you had to move. Again.

This was the second school this year. You had already grown tired of trying to make friends long ago after years and years, nor connections of any kind. There was no way for you to know if it was ever genuine anyway. Every man, student, and faculty member alike pined for you. The women hated you because their crushes and boyfriends' attention was always lured away. You were deemed a slut even though you never spent more than a few months at any school, not long enough to even get comfortable talking to someone let alone sleep with them. It was no fault of your own, just a by product of who you were.

Unfortunately for you, your secrets weren't as simple as the others had postulized. You wished you were "kicked out of your last school for inciting violence." However, that wasn't actually the case, just what's written on the transcripts. No, the male population went berserk fighting over who would get you as if you were a prize to be won. It caused a fire to erupt from the violence that ensued. The school was going to blame you anyway, but you moved once again due to the pressing dangers.

They were drawn to you, wanting to posses you. Their eyes void of emotion, just blank. You felt like you were being hunted every day of your life. No one could ever know or understand your truth. Your family wasn't like other families. You felt you stood out like a sore thumb. You did everywhere you went. Why would Beacon Hills be any different?

Your presence caused chaos amongst men. An incomprehensible obsession like a trance would take over, drawn helplessly to you. It led to trauma from your past. Men had tried to kidnap you, assault you, or worse, try to kill you if they couldn't have you. Always controlled by some unknown urge you didn't even understand. Friends, teachers, doctors, neighbors, if they were human, they couldn't resist your pull. It was a curse. You just wanted to be normal, to live a normal life. Have friends, go on dates, to know what it's like to have something in common with someone... anyone. Scarier even were the creatures that hunted those like yourself. Wanting to steal you vitality, your essence, and use you as a conduit between worlds. An ever-present fear.

Your mother had told you about the creatures of the woods and the woods themselves before her untimely passing, and the part it plays in your identity. "Y/N," she said. "We were born to the trees. We live our lives amongst them while we're here. That's why you love nature. it's within you as a nymph to be drawn home. The trees are the closest we can get for now. " She went on to explain that the reason why human men suffer this fatal attraction to them is because they are not of this realm. Their beauty alone is too powerful for this world. It's unnatural. The things a Fae is calable of here are just survival traits in their natural realm and too much for humans to bear. They are rendered helpless, weak, and unable to understand their urge. But the window to their plane was closed long ago. Your mother was long gone, no family to speak of. You only had your deity guardian. She spoke in riddles and had become increasingly weak to the point that you were now her caregiver. It was hard. She was all you had, all you knew, the only true protector. As a nymph cursed to the mortal coil, it caused so many divides in your life. You stopped trying to please anyone, stopped trying to have relationships, whether platonic or romantic. You did your best not to be perceived. Easier said than done when you are late to class and have to walk in front of everyone.

You walked down the aisle, avoiding prying eyes, holding your books close to your chest as you chose a seat near the back. It was only your first week here, and already you could feel this place was different. Still, your problems always seemed to follow. Not just the unwanted attention, but the missing time and missing memories, waking up in the woods, people disappearing, and the mushrooms and flowers that sprouted at your feet as you walked, creating cirlces in the mulch. You were always quick to make sure they never encirlced you. It always left you worse off, made you dizzy, feeling like you were torn between two worlds, neither here nor there. Still not truly understanding what it all meant.

As you took a seat in the back, an announcement came over the loud speaker. It said something about missing persons and the power of numbers and a possible curfew to be updated by the sheriff. It was starting again. Two boys sitting in front of you spoke in hushed voices in what seemed like a serious conversation. You couldn't help but overhear. "That's two this week, Scott!" The boy on the left said. "I told you it was something! But its different this time, theres no trace of them, its something new." He stole a glance looking over his shoulder, catching your gaze before returning to his conversation. You quickly shot your eyes down. He was remarkable. He had a lean build, brown hair with a buzz cut, and deep brown eyes that burned a hole through you. His friend he was talking to 'Scott' he had said was of similar height, more athletic build with longer black hair, you couldn't see his face yet. Something about him was darker, though. You could sense it. You twirled a pencil on the desk pretending not to listen. "Stiles! Something you'd like to share with the class?" The professor interrupted. The boy who caught your gaze, Stiles, the teacher, had said, shook his head and stammered unexpectedly. "Uh no, no." The professor turned back to their lecture as he again turned to his friend in a hushed voice."I did some research on portals, and we gotta figure this out, man. i have an idea. Later." he whispered. His friend looked over his shoulder. A smoldering gaze caught your eye before he turned back to Stiles and nodded in affirmation. The gazes felt targeted, but you couldn't be sure it was just your default thought as your own mechanism of protection against others. Class continued on without much excitement. You wondered to yourself, who those guys were, aside from their names, how did they expect to find the missing students? They had no idea what they were dealing with. Although, a noble effort, you hadn't even managed to figure this out yet, or you'd be able to maybe stay in one place.

You rushed out of the back doors, avoiding the crowds using the front. You wandered over to your favorite reading spot for respite amongst the trees that lined the field. You walked past the lacross team, filling the open space. Equipment strewn everywhere as they practiced. You noticed two familiar faces from class earlier. Stiles and Scott were on the field. You sat in a pile of leaves, quickly encircled by oily caps, and babies' breath starting at your feet. You didn't mind. You were distracted today. The woods were a buzz, leaving your skin tingling. You couldn't lie to yourself, stiles had a certain air about him. Something you couldn't quite define, but drew you in nonetheless. You tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you picked up your book but found yourself watching him again.

Of course, you always wanted a relationship, some kind of connection. Craved it for years and years, but it was never real. It was lonely. As much as you would push yourself from the thought and remiss to just being ok alone, a part of you still yearned for companionship for a somewhat social life in any form. What it must be like to have someone who sees you for you, who knows who you are in your heart and not what they see or can't understand. You watched as they one by one took turns shooting goals. Something about him, you thought. He looked at me but didn't see through me. His eyes didn't immediately glaze over into that half lidded trance of a stare. But he was human, you thought, what kind of human could resist that urge. You felt a mixture of shame and interest, wanting to know more, wanting to know why. You caught Stiles looking in your direction quite often. You chuckled when the coach called him out on it, demanding, "Keep your eyes on the prize, Stilinski, or you'll be back on the bench!" He seemed unphased by the coaches words only a quick head nod before pulling his mask back down and turning to aim.

After a while of watching, you were able to find the strength to zone out in your book. You were unsure how long you had been there, but the sun had already begun to set over the lining of the trees. You gathered your book bag and started making your way off the field. There were still a few people from the game lingering on the field as you neared to pass. You saw the two you had been watching from class earlier. Scott was sitting down on a bench, removing his safety gear while Stiles stood in front of him, holding his helmet with one hand and wildly gesturing with the other. Scott looked up to see you heading in their direction, book in hand clutched to your chest. He looked at Stiles and motioned toward you. Stiles immediately shot a look back and turned back to his friend. They both stopped speaking and watched as you passed. It made you feel nervous, but they didn't follow. You were thankful yet perplexed. Unusual behavior, not typical of what you were used to. It was nice in a way, but it made you question things a little more deeply.

Upon arrival at your home, you went to check on your guardian. She was in her room in a chair facing the window. She was like this every day. You thought you would try and speak with her today. Maybe get some answers about this place. "The woods here feel different." You spoke. "They feel electric almost, everytime i step within them, my skin buzzes and mushrooms and flowers grow around me, but not like before, the windows open right away! It's like, theres a power here I can sense but can't see. What is this place? Why did we move here?" You asked, hoping to get answers and not riddles. Something with meaning, something tangible bit knowing you wouldn't. "We came for the trees, dear." She said blissfully. "The trees and water that run through the woods in Beacon Hills is special to us. Revitalizes us and invigorates our true being. Beacon Hills is a place of much power. It draws to all supernatural creatures alike." She said without ever looking away from the window. "The claws, teeth, and scales of this place do not fear us. Isn't it nice?"

Your jaw nearly dropped. She spoke in a way that actually made sense to you. No riddles, full sentences. Her posture remained the same as well as the look on her face. But something was different. Perhaps it was the trees, perhaps it was this place? A hot spot for the supernatural? Was it somewhere you could stay? Where people weren't affected by us? As if reading your mind, she spoke once more. "They are the only ones who can tolerate us. Them, and sometimes those close to them who have opened themselves up to our world and have been touched by the other side. We still deal with present dangers from typical humans, so it's best to still keep a distance." The conversation ended abruptly with your guardian motioning to her bed. You helped her in, watching her gaze never leave the window.

You wished her a good night and headed to your room. Your mind weighed heavily on what she had said. Still, it changed nothing. People were still going missing. You knew it was because of the fairy rings that sprouted at your feet in the woods. It created the windows, the overlap of worlds, and people were walking in and not coming out. You didn't know how to stop it, never did. If this place was truly a supernatural persons territory. Perhaps there were those more knowledgeable than you on this. Perhaps there were others like you, nymphs who understood and controlled their reality, lest your guardian really started communicating. Something you didn't count on.

Your rest was tinged with excitement and anxiety. You could use this information to deduce who was a supernatural and who wasn't in a way. All you had to do was see how people reacted to your presence. It was all in the eyes. Those two boys in class, they had barely paid any attention to you, and your mind wondered what they could be. What kind of creatures inhabited Beacon Hills? Were they fae friendly? What if they found out the recent disappearances were because of you? How would they react? Would they help, or would they hunt you as well?

This morning, you skipped reading and headed straight for class sitting in the back again. As students poured in the class, you looked for the faces you had become familiar with but only saw one. Stiles entered and threw his bag down on the seat next to him in front of you. You pretended not to notice as he stole glances at you over his shoulder. You were in class, but he was studying you, your every move. As uncomfortable as this made you, it was nice as it wasn't paired with the crazy eyes that usually came with those glances. He seemed nice, a welcome feeling.

The professor announced that everyone needed to pair up. This was the worst. You would obviously rather work alone. Before even looking up from your textbook, the boy in front of you 'Stiles' turns around and speaks to you. "Wanna team up? Names Stiles by the way, " he said while turning in his seat and leaning a hand out over the back. You glanced at his face, then to his hand. A look of bewilderment must have crossed your face and been obvious as he immediately shrunk down and pulled his hand back, tightening his lips and shaking his head, mumbling something under his breath.

You had never seen reactions like this from men. They were always so confident in their approaches to you, running off pure pride with a gluttonous need for you. They way he acted was endearing. You felt your face soften as you tried to respond. "Im sorry, im just not used to people being nice to me. Im Y/N. You want to come sit here or me there?" He nearly fell out of seat at the words, frantically scrambling to grab his books and backpack to sit next to you. He did so in a huff before pulling his seat close and settling. You watched in amusement as he picked up items that fell in his haste. He was cute. You felt a smile touch your lips. How long had it been since you could smile? You thought.

After he had sat, he turned to you, saying, "I find it hard to believe no one's nice to you." he said in an awkwardly flirtacious way. "Really?" You say. "Have you not heard what people say about me? How certain people look at me?" His face went blank, and he looked away as if thinking of a response. He stammered. "Well, I think some people are bored... and being new and so uh... yeah... uh yeah, they're just you know, dumb." A smile crossed your face. "Wow, truer words have never been spoken," you chuckled sheepishly.

You two spent the rest of class working on an electrophoresis lab stealing glances at each other. The casing kept leaking buffer. You joked about the electric current, possibly shocking you, knowing it wouldn't. Electricity acted differently around you. Still, he took the lead, sensing your apprehension masked as a dark joke and carefully connected the currents. It was straightforward and pretty simple after that, yet you struggled with measurements for whatever reason. Perhaps it was molecule size. No matter what you thought. His presence was reassuring. He spoke kindly to you. You found yourself wanting to scoot closer but holding back. He was adorable, the way he focused when working sticking his tongue out as his thoughts coalesced into words on a page. You watched in admiration. You haven't liked a guy like this in so long, always avoiding that potential pain, not wanting to put yourself or others in danger again. There was just something different about him.

"So, i heard you talking with your friend yesterday about the missing students. What do you think happened?" His eyes widened, and you immediately felt intrusive. "Yeah, you uh, heard that, huh? Well, it's been sort of an 'ongoing' issue. My friends and I are just trying to get to the bottom of it before it's one of us, " he said while tapping his pencil to the desk, head cooked, and a thousand yard stare. "I hope you find them." You spoke thoughtfully in a hushed tone. You felt the weight of your words as they left your lips. You felt terrible, but knew there was nothing you could do except maybe move again. But you were starting to like it here. That was always the way it went. Even if this place did feel different.

You watched him, his mannerisms. Trying to figure out what he was, how he withstood the urge so many have around you. He fawned over you. Sure, you could tell he had an attraction. You could see it in how you made him act, how he reacted to you and around you. You had gotten really good at reading people. He was a bit harder to read just because you weren't used to this behavior, so far from the norm you had adjusted to for so long. After having dealt with false attraction many times before, you could tell he was genuine. This is just how he was. Silly, awkward, caring, and kind. It was refreshing. It almost felt unreal, the conversation flowed, and there were no innuendos or comments about your body or beauty. It was like a breath of fresh air. He was boisterous and cracked jokes. His humor dry, sometimes dark. You found yourself laughing, actually laughing with him. He was sweet, funny, charismatic even, and his smile made you melt.

It was tricky, knowing your nature, you could be just as entranced with the humans as they were with you, however dangerous it could be. But you could feel your longing within you like a being of its own, inhabiting your mind, body, and spirit. Begging for the day to see the light. That day so far, has not come. With age, that desire only grew, causing friction within the confines of your own mind.

The bell rang, and you gathered your things when his voice spoke out. "Hey, do you wanna come over after school today and study? Maybe work on some of this stuff? I could uh, really use the help." You examined his expression, feeling uneasy and not fully trusting his intentions. Yet, you found yourself nodding in agreement despite your ever-present worries and fears. His face remained as it did when he asked you, eye brows raised, lips parted, awaiting your response as he shifted his books in his hands and straightened his backpack straps. "Yeah? Ok, yeah." He said in surprise. "I live just a block over from you. Meet me after school?" A block from me? How did he know, did he follow you yesterday? You shrug your shoulders, pushing your thoughts back. "Sure sure," you mumble. As if sensing your trepedation, he blurted out, "My dads the sheriff. So, you dont have to worry or anything... if you are... worried," he fidgeted, turning his head rubbing his face in frustration as if he embarrassed himself. He avoided eye contact with you, and stammered when he spoke to you, perhaps your presence did make him uncomfortable, but it was in a way you haven't seen before, not in any type of hypnotized state. It intrigued you. You found yourself excited at the thought of a friend possibly, maybe more?

It felt intimate. He was inviting you to his home. Just you two. Was this a date? You'd never been on one, never being asked sincerely, so you always declined. It's easier to avoid disappointment, right? Especially if it could have led to your potential assault or possible death. There were creatures out there that wanted to kill people like you. Something you still didn't fully understand but remained aware of that potential danger. No one has ever wanted to spend time with you other than to possess you. You had to see what it was like and took full advantage of that opportunity. You thought, why not? His dads the sheriff, what's the worst that could happen? You didn't finish that thought because you already knew but hoped for a better outcome this time.

Stiles had handed you a folded note with four numbers scrawled across the inside. His home address he lamented. "Look for the blue jeep," he said as you left for home. You wanted to drop some things off before heading over. Make yourself presentable. You never wanted nor ever needed to dress any other way than comfortable. You weren't even sure you had anything that could be considered cute or attention getting. You changed, opting for a pair of black joggers, white sneakers, and a white tank top. The only thing you had that was somwhat revealing, but only in the way it fit your shape and peeked out with a bit of cleavage. Everything you owned was to avert the male gaze. You felt bold wearing it. You felt actually comfortable, not like the loose fabric you normally hung from your slender frame. You threw on a black pullover hoodie to cover yourself. Force of habit, plus, there were still people outside your home you would rather avoid. Knowing that loose clothing was a ruse, truly no one even needed to look at you to be pulled into your gravity. If you were close to them, they felt they needed you.

You walked over, breathing shallowly, not knowing what to expect, but a feeling of anticipation laced each step you took until you reached his front door. You reach a hand up while your mind second guessed whether you should be doing this or not. Your knuckles rapped on the wood four times. You took a step back to wait. You could hear Stiles somewhere inside yelling he was coming, followed by running steps that got louder as they crashed towards the door. The door swung open inwards, Stiles stood with his arm extended, out of breath but smiling.

You timidly raise a hand in a shy wave, feeling like you interruped him in the middle of something. "H-Hey. Come in." He led you through a hall to a room in the back on the left. His room presumably. He stepped in first clutching papers and books off the surface of his discheveled looking bed. "Sorry, I was trying to clean this all up before you got here," he said while trying to collect all the items at once. "That's ok," you respond. "Wow, you really do study a lot, huh?" You said. There were school books on his bed as to be expected, but there were a few interesting choice books you observed him quickly put away out of your view on a shelf behind him. "Weird World Compendium, Cryptozoology 101, and one titled Lycanthropy." Surely he didn't get those from the library. Perhaps it was some sort of project. You tried not to think too hard about it after what your guardian had said. This place was supernaturally charged. Maybe some humans were interested in that sort of thing. Although in your experience it's always been a topic that's more hush-hush.

You sat cross-legged in the spot on his bed he had cleared off and smoothed over for you. Settling in and opening your backpack to bring out your notebook. He sat next to you on the opposite side of the bed, legs outstretched as he placed a book and notes in his lap, searching through the papers. While he gathered his notes, you took the time to take off your hoodie, lifting your arms to pull it up off over your head. It pulled your hair tie out in the process. When you pulled it off fully, your hair covered your face, falling in long locks about your face. You brushed them away, smoothing your hair back as it fell to the sides of your face. You looked for your scrunchie in your hoodie where it must've gotten tangled. When you found it and went to put it on your wrist, you looked up to see him staring at you. A perplexed look tinged with want. It's as if he was looking at a beautiful deadly creature. Scared, yet highly intrigued. You watched his eyes scan your body until he met your eyes, and immediately, he turned beet red. You could feel your face flush as well. Both of you averted your gaze. Too self concious to address the tension in the air. So you both continued on studying like nothing happened. Engaging in light conversation and school talk. The actual studying only lasted a half hour.

You two went over your notes together quickly and then started talking. A few things that caught your attention that he said were about the woods, something about the history of the woods in Beacon Hills, super vague. Although he was cryptic as well, like there was some truth he was holding back. He asked about your move and why you chose Beacon Hills, "the weirdest place you could have chosen," he'd said. You told him your family who you stayed with moved a lot for work. A lie. You had no family, just your guardian, that and you would never truly divulge the reasoning. You'd sound insane to any somwhat sane person. Stiles seemed to be a sane person, a very hyperactive one, and a total smartass, but sane nonetheless. You enjoyed his energy, really, so you didn't want him not to like you. A thought you've never thought before. Perhaps he knew more than he let on. After all, he did talk about helping his friends find the people that went missing. You knew he wouldn't even know where to start unless he had some sort of supernatural inkling. Perhaps that's why he was able to still remain himself around you.

You stood to stretch, arching your back and sliding your hands down your backside as you did, trying to crack out a few knots from sitting on the bed. There was a large empty whiteboard in his room that was pretty hard to miss. Curiosity stole your attention away from him as you wanted to see what was on the other side, if anything. As he went to put his notes away, he looked up to see you flip the board. It was covered in intertwined strings, pictures, and what looked like newspaper clippings. It looked like complete chaos. You stepped closer to observe the images only to see a picture of you, images of the fairy rings, and old articles from schools you attended in the past. "Teen incites crowd violence at UNI leading to fire," one had read. Another stated, "At risk youth terrorizes fremont school district and local community" and "Local youth suspected in missing peoples case and 10 year cold case involving family disappearance." mentally, you remark at the headlines. They were all about you, your past, and they were not only wrong and super sensationalized, but outright mean you thought.

A look of worry and lost hope immediately plagued your features. Survival instinct kicked back in, and you were immediately aware of the bad decision you had made. Your heart began to race, and your palms got clamy. You could feel a low humm of electricity burning from within. He knew it was you, how easily you fell for it this time. Shame and fear filled the pit in your stomach. Stiles saw you remarking at his 'crime board'. He immediately went to try and grab the articles off to cover the evidence he had infact been following you. Researching your past. Why? Did he want you dead like some? The thoughts raced through your mind in a blur of negativity. Is that why he was asking the questions he was? Realistically, and even more painful, was the realization that he knew it was you or had something to do with you. The reason people were missing people he knew.

"No, no no no. It's not what it looks like. Just. Just let me explain," he insisted. You had turned to him with the article stating, "Menace linked to missing people," with tears welling in the corners of your eyes. It felt like betrayal. These feelings you were so used to and built yourself up to avoid, here again. Because you dropped your guard! "What are you?" You asked. "How are you like this? Are you a satyr? A changeling?!" You all but screamed at him. Fear, clear, and present in your voice. You were scared and hurt. He stood frozen looking at you, mouth agape. He tried to speak, unable to find the words. How could he be shocked at your reaction, you thought. The evidence was here, all of it, his research on you and the "portals" he talked to his friend about. It was embarrassing, demoralizing, and hurtful. "Uh-im..im a human being," he spoke in a broken sentence, unsure how to respond to that question. Human? How? How could he be, knowing what he knows? You look up from the article in your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks. Presented with everything you had tried so hard to get away from. "Why did you invite me here?" You spoke through breathy gasps. "I thought for once someone actually liked me. So I'll just go," you said in a hushed breath. You dropped the paper and turned for the door when you felt his hand on your arm.

"Dont go." He said defeatedly. You turned to face him, to confront him. "I-I do like you. Okay? I do. I just didn't know how to say it, to tell you, i'm scared." He said, stepping closer to you and grabbing your shaking hands. "Please let me explain." You looked up at him examiningly. Taking stock of his features, observing his body language. He appeared to be truly apologetic, especially when confronted with your tears. You quickly wiped them away, no weakness to be seen. "You do?" You said, seeking his validation and reassurance. "Why?" You asked. The question perplexed him. Why wouldn't anyone like you? They all did, well, only in that possessive way.

"Why?" He repeated, chuckling nervously as you tried holding his gaze. He would look down, then back seeing you were still looking into him."Yeah, why? You see all this about my past. People are disappearing around me, right? Why would you like me at all?" You questioned him. "Look, I can tell you put on a hard front, but when we were working together, I could see that wasn't who you were. I was cautious sure, a lot of crazy stuff happens here, you have no idea. I'm just trying to help my friends, I thought what I was doing was right, and I thought you could help." he said candidly. He spoke calmly and directly, unlike his usual cadence, taking your feelings seriously. "So what did you find out?" You ask him, gesturing to the board. Tone still firm yet softening. "That you're not what people say you are. That you are not those articles. And yes, youre fucking gorgeous". He gestured at you. "but youre kind, and... good."

His words poured over your fresh wounds like a pain killer. Numbing the hurt, a lovely feeling. You looked him in the eyes, a gaze he returned purposefully. "Im sorry i hurt you, it wasn't my intention, and I will take all the time you need to explain everything, you desrve that." The words he spoke were foreign to you. An apology. Bare minimum, but something you've never received in all your past traumas. Not once did anyone take the time to validate and quell your negative feelings they caused.

Without thought and acting upon pure emotion, you leaned in and kissed him. Pressing your lips hard to his. You pull away just as quickly. Too forward, too much you think to yourself. What have you done? You look to observe his face his reaction. His eyes still closed, and his lips still perched. After a moment, realizing you pulled away, he opens his eyes and looks down at you. Letting go of your hands he steps forward to you once more, leaving no space between you. He grabs your face a palm on either cheek and pulls you in for another kiss. Returning your affections heartily.

He pushes himself against you, holding your face in his hands as your lips continue to collide, tongues roaming and exploring, teeth clashing as he breathes heavily through his nose. A soft moan escapes your mouth as you bring your arms around his neck. He then slid his hands behind your back, pulling you closer to him. You reveled in his embrace. It's so warm and inviting. There was no pressure, no obsession. It felt natural, a feeling never shared with a human before, or any being for that matter you thought.

Something came over you, or rather melted away. The fear, the worry about being around him, all but vanished in his embrace. It didn't feel forced or like possession. Just pure chemistry. Your kiss led you to the edge of his bed where your knees buckled and you fell backward. You grabbed Stiles' hand, pulling him on top of you. He was clearly nervous but happy and more than willing to participate, his breathing was fast, hands shakey as he placed one on the side of your shoulder and grabbed under your thigh with the other raising your leg up.

He spread your legs apart with his knees, scooting closer. He continued kissing you, circling your toungue with his. The electricity in your core buzzed furiously beckoning to you in unintelligible whispers. Everything spun out of control so quickly. His hands roaming your body, lightly caressing your abdomen, sliding his fingers underneath your top. His fingers left traces of vibration on your skin. You wondered if he could feel it, too. The exhiliration filled your senses, taking over rational thought as your hands roamed his body. You could feel the stillness in his pants as your soft movements brushed up against him, eliciting small gasps of breath through his teeth.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away. You looked on pleadingly, searching his face for a reason. His face was soft as he expressed concern. "Only if you want this," he said. You nodded almost as he spoke, sitting up on your elbows and meeting him with another kiss. "I do, please," you said with eybrows raised and puffy glistening lips. He relaxed and leaned into the kiss once more, pushing himself against you.

You put both hands under his sweater. He quickly shrugged it off his head, pulling it from his shoulders. You lifted up your tank top, sliding it off as he did, then unhooked your bra, dropping it to the floor next to the bed carlessly. When he looked back down, a smile curled on his lips before biting them and returning to kissing you. He took a moment to bury his face between your breasts, inhaling you deeply before using his tongue to lap at your hardened nipples, the cold air on your wet skin making you shiver under his touch.

The heat rising in your body matched the warmth in your psyche. A true gentleman he had been. Asking for consent was unheard of for you. Most just took what they wanted, turning you off of the whole idea of intimacy. But Stiles was different. You felt yourself softening under his touch. His words soothed the darkest corners of your abused mind.

His body was ridgid and warm against your torso. You could feel goosebumps rise across the flesh you touched upon his back. He quivered with every embrace. Your hand slipped down to his waistband, where his belt sat. You slip a finger just inside, trailing it against his skin left to right as you gently tug. He meets your gaze, and you smile up at him innocently. He quickly stood once more, chucking off his shoes carlessly. One landed on his desk, and the other hit the wall. You chuckled lightly. He was so eager. As he gathered his bearings to pull his pants down, you grabbed hold. "Let me," you say while grabbing his hands. He nodded in agreement, running his fingers through your hair as he curiously watched.

You undo his belt and pull the strap through each belt loop until it hits the floor, followed by the button, then the zipper until you pulled down his pants to reveal him. His boxers stood tented. He sucked in a breath as you slid the pants over his length. You could see partially through the hole in the boxers that his hardness exaggerated, almost poking out. You removed them carefully, sliding them down to the floor. His length stood at full attention and laid against his abdomen, a burning red. You run a hand over his chest, moving down and tracing the lines on his hips that led to his cock. He twitched under your touch, so did his cock. Perhaps it tickled.

You looked up at him as you claimed him, holding him firm within your grasp. His hands moved to the back of your head where he gathered your hair into one hand. You watched his reaction as you ran your tongue across the tip, collecting the precum that had coated him. His jaw dropped as he gasped at your intimate touch, eyes watching in awe as you took him into your mouth. You circled your tongue around his head before pushing further down, forcing him past your lips. Coming up and then forcing him down again, stretching your throat and causing you to gag. Tears streamed down your face as he began pushing you further onto him, wrapping your hair in his fist as his other hand held lightly under your chin, caressing your throat. He met every movement of yours with his own thrust. Drool began seeping from the corners of your mouth before dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

He pulled your head back, his hand still intertwined in your hair. His other hand grabbed your chin, using his thumb to wipe the drool from your face. He then slid his finger into your mouth, rubbing your tongue and pushing on it before moving his other finger inside, shoving them in and out of your mouth as you helplessly looked up at him. You heard a low hum form in his chest before he placed both hands on your shoulders, pushing you down gently. You follow his lead, sliding back just enough to give him space to put his knees between you.

Stiles scooted between your legs, using his hands to grip the seam of your panties and pull them downward and off of your legs. Slipping them so softly off of your body, placing them on the bed beside him. He then grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him, his length stood at your entrance. Pushing against your slit, covering him in your slick as he leaned in for a kiss.

You prop yourself onto your elbows, meeting his lips with your own. His length throbbing against you, you found yourself slowly grinding against it. Wanting him more than you've ever wanted anyone in your life ever. The passion and intesnse pressure burning you from within. You felt a deep pressure well within you, an unstoppable urge to fulfill.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling him nearly penetrate you. A soft moan escaped your lips as he reached down and guided himself to you. Slowly forcing his way in. As he pushed himself inside, your walls began to grip him. "Fuuuck," he whispered. He had to push harder as you tried to accept him. You cry out, and he looks at you with concern. "No, it's ok, feels sgood" You manage to speak in broken words as he begins to slowly thrust himself in and out of you. His eyes watched you almost with fascination as you squirmed beneath him, meeting every thrust of his with your own bucking motion. Wanting more. You felt the room get lighter. Everything took on a hazy ethereal glow with flickers of light that looked like stars as he pounded into you, increasing his speed and strength with every thrust.

Each push, sending you closer and closer over the edge. You looked him in his eyes as he shoved himself heartily into you. Pawing at your breasts, squeezing the flesh through his balmy hands. Small breathy moans would escape his trembling lips. You pulled his face close to yours, gazing into eachothers eyes as he filled you. Marveling at his expressions, how his face tightened with every thrust, how he gritted his teeth and persed his lips. He kissed your chest and neck, causing you to moan loudly from sheer lust.

He had reached for your panties that lay beside him, crumpling them up and stuffing them in your mouth. "My dad will be home soon, we have to be quiet," you nodded, letting him know you understood. You were being very loud after all. No fault of your own, just the sounds he elicited out of you from the pleasure he provided. He began pounding furiously, you cried out in muffled moans behind your soaked panties. Looking up at him as he continued with eyes of want.

Your body felt light, like you were floating. His eyes never left your face as he grunted softly with each push. Your skin tingled and buzzed with vibration, nothing you have ever felt before. He watched as your eyes beamed light from within, a sparkling like a galaxy within your pupils. A buzzing concentrating in your back and shoulders. You could feel it slowly lift from your skin as what looked like stars erupted from your shoulders glittering behind you into the bed sheets and filling room, hovering in ace.

You pull the panties from your mouth, tossing them somewhere within the room. Waves of pleasure began crashing over you as you approached your climax. Stiles remained streadfast, unabated by your sudden supernatural display. "S-Stiles, im gonna cu," you gasped. "Please, dont st-stop," you pleaded, looking deeply into his eyes. His face was a look of pure concentration, grimacing with every thrust that filled you. Your body began to shudder beneath him. His cock trembling and twitching within you as ropes of his essence spasmed within you with every forceful push. Your orgasm bringing him to his own. You wrapped your legs tighter around him as your body convulsed, your walls contracting around his pulsating length. You could feel his warmth fill you as his eyes rolled back and a low deep moan coalesced from his throat. Stiles' room, for a brief moment when your orgasm was most intense, had been glowing, all you could see was him, behind him was almost otherworldly.

The room had filled with the stars that emenated from your shoulder blades. Flickering and twinkling out one by one. They shined like small spheres of light, emitting streams of light out in every direction before fading into what looked like the flicker of a flame and dissapating completely. You had never seen this before, a shock to you, and you were sure it'd shock Stiles, too, if he wasn't already preoccupied. You're sure you'd have to explain later... if you could find the words.

Stiles lay on top of you, exhausted and breathing heavy. You lightly caressed his head he again shivered under your touch and smiled, eyes closed against your chest. You watched as his head rose and fell with each breath you took. "Y/N," he sofly spoke, a large grin painting his face. "You're so beautiful," he said euphorically. "Best sex ever," he said as he slipped off you and lay beside you. You giggled at his rhetoric. "So, I feel like there's something you want to tell me." He spoke once more. How could you even begin to explain what happened when you weren't quite sure yourself. You've never had this happen, but you've also never had consensual sex that you initiated. There was still so much to learn about yourself and what you were.

"Well, if you've got time, I guess I'll just start from the beginning. Starting with me being a Nymph," you said hesitantly. His eyes widened slightly, staring at you in disbelief, "A nymph! Like a fairy deity... Nymph?!" He stammered. "Why didn't I think of that?" he said jokingly to himself. "Uh yeah, I guess, I really dont know much about it, though. I didn't even know I could do... that" you said. "But I'll tell you everything I know. I'll help you find them if I can. I promise," you declared. He looked on, eyes half lidded. "I had sex with a god," he said, staring at you, ignoring everything else you said. You looked into his eyes as he searched yours, moving a strand of hair away from your face. "You'll have to tell me more when the blood rushes back from other areas," he said playfully. "Ok, one more thing though, they're called windows, not portals." You said tongue in cheek. "Really? What's the problem with portals?" he jested, kissing your forhead.

[genshin-scenarios]

One thing that I think is insanely funny and interesting about aus/pairings like your spiderverse lyney x reader (and am rambling into your inbox) is the identity shegingins; both before and after finding out.

because you can just have moments where the villain and the hero interact and just... not know? like i know based on how you described spiderverse!lyney they may not interact with civilians, but just like civilian mode reader is just accidently apart of a group of hostages and lyney (before finding identity) may just be more attentive than norm to the hostages because reader's there?

or spiderman!reader runs into civilian mode lyney after/during an encounter with a different villain, and reader is doing hero talk but is confused by how lyney is acting with spiderman? like yeah the man's still friendly like he is at school to civilian mode reader but it is... faker, some how?

and not to mention after Lyney finds out (whether that be the full truth of reader being spiderman or a half truth of reader being connected to spiderman) and he's just, weirdly more genuine and careful during encounters with spiderman as a phantom twin? or civilian reader is trying to come up with an excuse and lyney just instantly helps out despite not giving a reason why? or knowing reader got hurt during a partol/villain fight/encounter with the phantom twins and lyney agonizing over it the next day but unable do anything outright to help? lahf

Before finding out:

NO CAUSE Civilian Lyney being a fakeass when he meets Spiderman-Reader is so funny to me 😭😭 like you start wondering why Lyney is having bastard energy as he shoots a smile at you, because you're used to his soft puppy-dog demeanor in your civilian form 🥲 but just write it off as Lyney having his own reservations about the masked hero

After finding out:

THE IDEA OF HIM ONE-SIDEDLY KNOWING!!! IS SOO.... like yes imagine him covering for you when you keep disappearing from class, thinking to himself that you're prob off doing hero things (cuts to you almost crashing into a wall while fighting a mechanical vulture, not related to the house of hearth).

On another YES lyney seeing you try to hide an injury at school and expressing his concern but needing to act completely clueless!! But there's a cute moment nonetheless as he helps wrap up your injury cause you did a shoddy job with bandages on your own. Starts helping you carry your backpack for you... all that good stuff that has people eyeing you both, wondering if you're dating

In fights though, I think he'd still act kinda the same as a Phantom Twin! It's one of those things where going easy on you is 1. Suspicious and will get your secret identity caught, and 2. Kinda feels disrespectful to an extent. BUT that being said if Lyney sees you getting injured by another villain who isn't him or his siblings, he gets snappy fast, using the excuse of 'only We get to rough you up' and 'that villain is going too far' -> because let's be real, the house of hearth Are criminals but they aren't Heartless.

In fact he might even think of your moments as Spiderman vs Phantom Twins as a bonding moment 😭 it's a very enjoyable dance as it means both parties have memorised each other's patterns in an attempt to get the upper hand, and he loves the surprise that shows through your mask when he catches you off-guard and Could harm you, only to linger for a moment and swing away with a mocking grin. You're absolutely fuming but Lyney thinks it's cute (he thinks he's being charming to some extent, as much as he can as an enemy)

[yakumtsaki]

AND WE'RE BACK. My cancerous thyroid might have briefly cucked me, but now I'm about to cuck every goddamn semi-incestuous couple in this house. Isn't that right, Baby?

-CAWK CAWK

Exactly! Baby here is a parrot that Meadow rolled the want for and I was like sure, what problems could a parrot possibly cause?

-OPEN THIS DOOR. SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR FOR ME. OPEN IT RIGHT NOW OPEN IT OPEN IT

Um it should open automatically for you wtf?

-OPEN THE DOOR, MAMMAL TRASH, THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING

Ok Baby seriously why won't the doors open for you?

-I DON'T KNOW BUT I WILL STAY HERE AND PREVENT EVERYONE FROM GOING TO CLASS BECAUSE THEY'RE TOO STUPID TO USE THE OTHER DOOR

Alright then, clearly there's only one solution to this..

Perfection.

-Um, what happened to the door?

-IT ASKED TOO MANY STUPID QUESTIONS. OUT OF THE WAY, HUMMIE SCUM

Well, Baby was clearly a much needed addition to this house. Now, to the main event: an end to the Year of Sin!

NOP, NEVERMIND, SPOKE TOO SOON, MUST DO THIS INSTEAD. We invite Good Witch over for Spice and she asks to bring a friend and it's FUCKING MALCOLM. LMAO. I simply have to, I can't resist-

-Well well well, if it isn't the famous Malcolm Landgraab IV, the finest intergenerational concubine the world has ever seen!

-Huh?

-You were too much of a straggot to date my father, but I know you won't be able to resist the charms of the much better looking son!

-What?

-God, the conversation is just crackling with sexual tension!

-So, Malc, I believe we should make out. Thoughts?

-Where are those fucking butterflies coming from?

-Your stomach? ;)

No, they're from the Good Witch, my bad y'all.

After many, MANY hours of talking, Malcolm finally accepts a lame wolf whistle-

-but our efforts are interrupted by Felina returning from class. WILL YOU GIVE IT A FUCKING REST FOR ONE DAY

-NEVER

-Sorry kid, but if Malcolm Landgraab is to ever consider bisexuality, it will be for someone who can beat up his own sister.

Wtf kinda rule is that you freak?? You know what, just gtfo-

-NO. Stay here, Malcolm, I'd like to hear stories about you and great-great grandma Victoria!

-Oh wow, now that was a real woman. She could hold her liquor, she could whore around, she could beat up anyone.. No man could ask for anyone more feminine!

You are so right, Malcolm, the only one to ever do it better was Long John Silver!

Ok seriously Barth is there a plan here, why are we wasting valuable time on platonic interactions with this loser?

-I just have a feeling true love will prevail!

What are you even talking about-

UM PWND @ ME WTF. ACR DOES IT AGAIN WITH LITERAL NEGATIVE CHEMISTRY LOL

OH FUCK YES TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE. Two Babies with one stone if you will!

-HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON ME, YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD

Ya ok GROSS but finally we can put this behind us, 1 down, 200 more to go. Cyan go back to your other cousin-lover while you still can because I'm breaking you up too!

-Don't have to tell me twice!

Ugh.

-Hmmm...

What now, Barth.

-Nothing, I just keep forgetting I actually have two eyes.

Ya, you and me both.

-But now that I possess peripheral vision, I see there's so much to be done in this house.

You have set yourself on fire multiple times, please stop with the household tasks, that's why we have a butler.

-But he never actually does anything!

Yes well, his main job is to answer the door and we no longer have one, but it's still money well spent.

-WELL I WILL FIX THE DISHWASHER OR DIE TRYING

-BARTH NO I STILL LOVE YOU

-FUCK YOU SUNSET, YOU BROKE MY HEART BY SLEEPING WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND. HE'S NOT EVEN RELATED TO YOU

Barth no offense but I think I'm ready for your next electrocution to take you out.

-As am I!

-And I!

-GETTING SLAPPED MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY IS STARTING TO AFFECT MY MENTAL HEALTH HOW DO I MAKE IT STOP

You could stop being Satan incarnate?

-No, there has to be a better way!

-How about I sleep with the boyfriend of the only cousin in this house who doesn't already hate me?

Yes, absolutely, and please take another crack at fixing the dishwasher when you're done.

[idk6123]

The Perfect Student & The Delinquent (Mickey Milkovich X Male Reader)

Mickey never have been one for doing homework, or just doing anything school related at all. Some people call him stupid because of that, but he just doesn’t care. He knows how to make money and that is enough for him. He’s done with school, but school isn’t done with him. And this is school we’re talking about; they’re going to bother him about it by shoving the responsibility to someone else.

That’s when Y/N appears, one of the best students in the school. Mickey knew him. He’s a quiet kid. He didn’t find him annoying enough to beat him up, or rich enough to steal from. Thus, they never interact. However, that all starts one day, when the school hold Y/N responsible for getting Mickey’s grade up. Feeling screwed, he’s going to help Mickey without having much motivation.

“How the fuck should I suppose to know how algebra works!?”

“Maybe you know when you come to fucking class!”

“Maybe if you cut some class, you realize that’s the best way to not get your ass kicked!”

That’s when Y/N hold Mickey in a position that the punk can’t counterattack. Feeling his face against the floor, he looks at the side of eyes and look up to see Y/N, sitting on his body.

“You look like you want to fuck me.”

“Yeah, fuck you over if you don’t shut the fuck up and do your homework.”

To be honest, Mickey is quite surprised that Y/N isn’t the quiet kid he expected him to be. He thought the top student was some shy, timid guy that only wants to do homework, not a martial artist that has no time for bullshit.

“So, you want to lie down while I’m on top off you, or do you want to do something useful?”

Mickey scoffs. “Fine. Get your fat ass off me.”

“At least I got a nice ass.”

They sit down again at the couch and recontinue Mickey’s homework. As Y/N guides him, he notices how much Mickey is struggling with math, causing some frustration. Even after math, Mickey is struggling with almost every subject. English, chemistry, biology, you name it. Y/N bets the only class he can do is PE.

As Mickey continues to struggle on the task, Y/N can tell he’s going to burst out in anger anytime soon. “Let’s take a break.” Mickey looks back, staying quiet. “Got somethin’ to drink?”

“Beer is in the fridge.” Mickey answers. Y/N stands up and heads to the kitchen. “Grab one for me.”

Y/N does that, bringing back two beers. He hands one over to Mickey. After they pop off the caps, they both take a sip at the same time.

“Are you some masochist for doing this shit?”

“Nope. Just someone who hopes for a big job and get rich.” Y/N responds. “Get in a good college first though. You?”

“I just steal the money. We should stay in contact, just in case you get rich.”

Y/N chuckles. “Any chance you get any money from me if you’re either my husband or my sugar baby.”

“That’s a hard pass.”

For the rest of the day, after having their break, Y/N helped Mickey, tutoring him in about every subject. That being said, it doesn’t look bright.

-

It’s another day where Y/N helps Mickey. The straight A student made sure to reflect why Mickey isn’t doing well, not wanting to write it off with him just being dumb. Thus, after changing the homework just a bit, he manages to do something that may help Mickey.

“’In a week, your crew makes these many drug deals: 7, 5, 8, 6, 9, 4, 10. What's the median number of deals?’” This is the first question Mickey read, only thinking what happened to his homework. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m helping you. Now you can use math in your future business.” Y/N responds. “Now, try to figure it out.”

Mickey then looks back at the paper. For whatever reason, he appears he knows what he’s actually doing. He doesn’t look confused, instead he looks focused. “7 deals.”

“Right!” Y/N is happy Mickey finally got something right. “Now to the next.”

“’You got two weapons suppliers. One brings you 2x units and the other brings 3x units. If x is 5, how many total units you got?’” Mickey looks back at his tutor. “25 units.”

“Holy-” Y/N is surprised how well things are going. “Write down the solution.” Without any fuss, Mickey writes down the solution. Afterwards, he gives the paper back at Y/N. “Correct.”

Mickey smirks, grabbing the paper back. “And here people thought I was some dumbass.”

“Well, you proved them wrong.”

-

Now that every question is changed into a language into something Mickey comprehends, the speed of doing his homework changed from an entire day into 2 hours, with most of the time the questions correctly answered.

“’If you take a hit and your arm’s bleeding, which system in your body rushes to patch up the hole?’ The circulatory system.”

“’You got a new batch of goods, and you see the demand go up. If you usually move 50 units at $20 each, but now you can push 70 units at the same price, what’s the total revenue now?’ $1400.”

“If you're 'running' from the police, how do you say, 'we run' in Spanish?”

"Nosotros corremos"

Times passes quickly as Mickey completes his homework. After doing so, Y/N is wondering what kind of grade he gets. And it turns out he managed to get a…

“B+!”

Mickey looks surprised. “In total?”

“Yeah.” Y/N looks happy for his classmate. “You did great. Now you have to rely on regular questions, or you have to use your fantasy to turn it in something fun.”

“Do the second one.” Mickey answers. “To be honest, I’m surprised school can help me in my future.”

“The future full of crime.”

“Yep, and I give all the credit to you, not those assholes.” Mickey refers to the teachers without shame.

Y/N smirks. “They really are assholes. They black mailed me to tutor you, y’know?”

“They did?” Mickey is surprised, thinking it’s ridiculous. “Fucking bastards…” He then thought of something. “We should get revenge.”

“Whaddaya mean? You talking about a school shootin’ or somethin’?”

“No, just destroying the principal’s office. And for good sake, his car.”

Y/N thought about it, not declining the idea at first, causing Mickey to smile with glee. Feeling like he wants to bite back, the usually good student caves in. “Only after you ace your tests.”

Mickey offers a fist-Bumb, which Y/N accepts. “Deal.”

-

Y/N awaits outside of the classroom, wanting to see Mickey after finishing his last test. As Y/N daydream off, his eyes suddenly went wide awake when Mickey gets out of the classroom with a smirk on his face.

“And?”

“Not a problem.”

“Nice.” Y/N offers a high-five, which Mickey accepts.

“Now it’s for me to help your ass.” Mickey gestures his friend to follow him. They get to his locker, where Y/N sees multiple tools of destructions in the locker. “You’re backing down?”

Y/N grabs a hammer, checking it out. “Nah, they need to learn to not mess with me.”

Mickey looks proud. “Glad you’re not a pussy.”

After gathering their equipment, they get to the principal office. They see it’s empty, though locked. Using his lock-picks, Mickey opens the door, causing them to get access in the office. They look around, with Mickey looking back at his new delinquent friend.

“Want to do the first honour?”

Y/N holds the hammer tighter, with his eyes locking on the pc. With a heavy slam, the computer receives a massive hole, following up with another slam and another one. That’s when Y/N grabs what remained and throws it aside to stomp on it.

“There you go!” Mickey looks excited. He then gets to the desk, where he takes out all of the drawers to throw it away. “Let’s go wild!”

Chaos enfolds the entire room, as the two delinquents destroy the entire office. The shelves broken on the floor. All the files ruined and ripped apart. The chair being thorn into two. They even tagged the wall with a penis.

“You have a talent for making very gorgeous dicks.”

Mickey chuckles. “Naturally born talent.” He looks back at his friend. “And now we have made our territory.”

“Like a dog?”

“Yep.” Mickey hands move to his pants to unbuckle. He notices Y/N just standing. “You’re not joining?”

“I just think we should aim higher.”

“Like a shit?”

“No.” Y/N looks back at the desk. “Think anyone ever cummed on the desk?”

Mickey stops what he’s doing and looks back. “You want to fuck on the desk?”

“I don’t mean together.” Y/N clarifies himself, thinking Mickey is straight. “We could have turns jerking off.”

Mickey then just smirks. “Not the best time wise. It’s better we do it at once.”

“Huh?”

That’s when Mickey gets to Y/N to ambush him with a kiss, though surprised for a second, he quickly kisses back. The two guys quickly move to the table, where both guys begin undressing each other to take the ultimate insult.

-

“I think we’ve done enough orgies.”

“When is enough enough?” Mickey responds back.

They just stole the principle’s car and park it somewhere isolated, where Y/N and Mickey send another message from inside the car, multiple times.

Both guys are sitting in the front seat, where they chat as they’re covered in each other’s clothing.

“Well, I’m tired.”

“Of sex?”

“Yeah, l like it more dispersed.” Y/N grabs his boxers and put them on. “You’re one freaky shit to be able to have sex so many rounds.”

“Thanks.” Mickey merely responds. “There is more where that came from.”

Y/N hums. He grabs his t-shirt to put it on. As he does, he looks back at the guy next to him. “You’re staying naked?”

“I’m still up for one more round.”

“You really are a degenerate.” Y/N chuckles. “Well, the longer we stay here, the quicker the principle notices his car gone missing and the cops to find us.”

Mickey hums and think about it. “Right, I can’t really afford that.” That’s when he starts dressing up too.

“We can always do it another time.”

Mickey looks back to see a smirking man, giving him a smirk back. “I like the sound of that.”

-

“Got a B for math.” Mickey announces when Y/N walked in his house.

“Nice going.” Y/N looks proud. “And nice for me for being such a good and perfect teacher.”

“I wanna make a remark but consider the rest of my grades are all great, I let it pass.” Mickey goes to the fridge to grab a beer for him and Y/N. “Did you hear about principle shitface?”

Y/N smirks. “What about him?”

Mickey goes back to Y/N to hand over a beer. “Wasn’t too fond to discover cum on his desk, as well in his car.”

“Nice.” Y/N laughs. He put up his beer. “Fuck the principle!”

“Fuck the principle!”

Mickey and Y/N both cheer, celebrating their victorious, whether it’s from Mickey getting good grades, or Y/N standing up for himself, or their new find friendship that will turn into something more.

[regscupid]

1/7 prompt: headache (1113 words) - @jegulus-microfic

Every year at the start of football season, Regulus’ university team holds its annual Boy Toy Charity Auction. A makeshift stage and runway are set up in whatever large, open space the event planners can secure and the players are sent out, one by one, to sell themselves to the highest bidder for the night. It’s a win for everyone really– the money goes to a good cause, the bidders get to go on dates with their pick of ‘the hottest guys on campus’, and the football players get nice, long, strokes to their egos. Regulus couldn’t have cared less about the whole thing.

And yet, here he stands in a room packed tight with people who have spent the whole night ready to throw their money at every attractive man to walk down the runway, too-loud music and voices speaking over each other sending Regulus hurtling towards a headache. Most players have already been bid on, and Regulus can feel himself getting restless.

He only came because Sirius insisted. Absolutely not because James, Sirius’ best friend and the guy he’d been mildly pining over since he was twelve, would be a part of the auction. Even less so because there had been a recent shift in their relationship, barely concealed hope growing a bit with every interaction between them. He wasn’t desperate to see who would bet on James, and how James reacted to it. Not at all.

“Do you think they’ll bid out the sound guy?” Sirius cranes his neck to get a good look at the tall man on the side of the stage, clearly trying to do as much of his job as possible without being seen. Regulus recognizes him immediately as Remus Lupin, the TA in one of his classes.

Regulus scowls, “I don’t know? I don’t care.”

Sirius bites his lip, still distracted by Remus when Regulus’ words seem to register. He turns back to Regulus, squinting. “Just because you’re getting impatient waiting for your choice bid doesn’t mean you get to have an attitude. No one likes a grouch.”

“I’m not bidding on him,” he mumbles.

Sirius nods with a look of mock contemplation, “So you’re fine with someone else bidding on him then?”

Regulus ignores the way his face heats up and his chest tightens at the thought, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll live.”

The music fades as the man at the podium begins to announce the next player.

“Alright, this is our last boy for the night, so get excited and turn out those pockets! Remember, this is for a good cause!” The music swells as the crowd cheers.

James Potter has always thrived on attention. Regulus figured it had to be some mix of being an only child and being as attractive he is. It had to have gone to his head.

So, it’s unsurprising when he bounds onto the stage, smile blinding as people in the crowd whoop and wolf whistle. Regulus watches dumbfounded as he struts to the end of the runway, before reaching down and pulling his jersey over his head, revealing the “BOY TOY” painted across his chest.

“Here we have team captain and heartthrob, James Potter! Do we have a first bid?” The announcer has to all but yell into the microphone to be heard over the crowd.

“Eighty dollars!”

“Jesus,” Sirius laughs. Regulus is not laughing.

“Eighty dollars! Do I hear eighty-five?”

Panic grips Regulus as the bid gets higher and higher. Most bids that night hadn't even reached eighty dollars, yet alone started there. Before his senses can kick in, he’s calling out a bid of his own.

“One hundred and ten!” Just out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sirius turn toward him, mouth agape. His face burns, and he can’t look at James, but he has already committed to it.

“One hundred ten! Is there a one-fifteen?

“One hundred and fifty dollars!” a woman somewhere in the crowd calls. Regulus grits his teeth.

“One-eighty,”

“One-ninety!”

Regulus groans under his breath, too aware that he only had two hundred dollars in his wallet at the moment. He turns to Sirius, who's watching with wide eyes and an amused grin. “Do you have cash on you?”

“Yeah, fifty. Why?”

“Give it to me.”

“What? No.”

“Please for the love of god, Sirius, I’ll pay you back and introduce you to the sound guy, I know him. Just do this one thing for me.”

“One-ninety going once!”

“Fine.”

“Two-fifty!”

When no one attempts to outbid him, Regulus lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in since the bidding started. He finally looks at James as he begins walking backward on the runway. His smile has turned into a smirk, and he winks at Regulus before turning around and jogging backstage. Regulus’ stomach curls into not entirely unpleasant knots.

“I can’t believe I just agreed to give you fifty bucks to get with my best friend.” Sirius mumbles, before a slightly delirious laugh bubbles out of him. “I knew you couldn’t handle someone else bidding on him.”

Regulus chooses not to respond, only shoving his arm instead.

Everyone begins clearing out, either disappointed that they didn’t win any dates, celebrating their winning bids, or simply buzzing from the dramatic end to it all.

“Better go see your ‘date’. Tell Prongs to have you home by midnight or I’ll hunt you both down.”

Regulus scowls, but there's no real bite to it, the nerves beginning to get to him. He says goodnight, then works his way to the table set up next to one of the doors for payment. Just as he’s finished telling the woman his name and handing over the money, he catches James standing a few feet behind him. His arms are crossed over his chest and Regulus has to try very hard not to look down at his biceps. Not that looking at his grin dead-on was much better.

“If you wanted to go on a date that bad you could’ve just asked, you didn’t have to drop two hundred and fifty dollars on me.”

Regulus is hyper-aware of the woman sitting there watching them. So, with the payment all taken care of, he steps away from the table, expecting James to follow him out of the building. He does.

“Don’t get a big head about it.”

James rests his hand on his chest and faux-gasps, “How can I not when the Regulus Black wants that badly to go on a date with me?”

“...Do you think they do refunds?”

“No, you’re stuck with me.” James’ smile softens, and Regulus can’t help the small smile that pulls at his own lips.

[yanderes-galore]

hear me out , hear me out … yandere Striker and yan Blitz teaming up /sharing or even rivalry with a female darling 👀

Maybe reader a low class imp or a high class he’ll born who helps Blitzo or maybe she hired striker to do a hit and run 👀

(wow now Im imagine reader hiring striker to get rid of her other stalker blitz’s)

please if that’s ok 💗

Know what? I fw you trying to get rid of your first stalker... only to get two.

Yandere! Striker vs Blitzø

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Blood, Attempted murder, Forced relationship implied.

The whole thing starts with Blitzø's obsession.

You're an imp working at I.M.P, which immediately makes you close to Blitzø in some way.

You're a skilled assassin who works for Blitzø, regardless of how you feel about him.

Naturally, due to craving some sort of mutual connection, Blitzø would latch to you.

Even more so if this is after him breaking up with Stolas.

The imp is desperate for some sort of connection and affection.

You're the only other single imp in I.M.P, perhaps you even offer him some help with his relationship issues.

Then you notice something wrong....

You have no idea it's Blitzø and just know you have a stalker.

One who follows you home and steals from your apartment.

In an attempt to get rid of your problem... you might put in an AD for stalker help.

A bodyguard... another assassin to fix the issue...

Only for Striker to take up the job.

Dealing with Striker is... risky.

You're aware of the history he has with I.M.P.

You shouldn't be dealing with Striker due to the issue he has with Blitzø.

He has a deep rooted hatred for Moxxie and Blitzø.

So... merely meeting with him to discuss your stalking problem... It already feels dangerous.

You hope he doesn't know you're with I.M.P... but how could he not?

You can just tell in his gaze when he grins down at you, tail swaying.

"Aw... the other imp girl from that dreaded assassin business needs help with a stalking problem? I may hate your boss... but we can work a deal since you're so pretty, right darlin'?"

You swallow your fears and nod, beginning your deal with the rival assassin.

All that matters is paying him to get your stalker issue under control.

Striker may ask you why you won't ask your boss, which leads you to respond with an uneasy thought.

You've seen Blitzø be clingy with you... so you can't rule him out as your stalker yet.

Striker seems to be amused and eager by this thought.

The thought of tormenting Blitz makes him excited.

The original plan discussed is Striker looking into the issue.

He'll look into who's stalking you, then allow you to decide the outcome.

That's the starting deal... payment will be discussed later.

You're both relieved yet nervous when you hire Striker for the job.

You aren't sure if you should feel safe or not.

But, hidden from your knowledge, you've merely caused more issues.

Striker's obsession isn't immediate, it takes time.

While Blitzø's obsession is in full swing, Striker is spending time talking to you and revealing what he knows.

In fact, due to Blitzø's tendency to stalk, he may actually find out about you and Striker.

But... He can't say anything on the matter.

That would just out him.

Blitzø can't help but feel jealousy when he sees you interact with Striker.

The other imp is always so flirty and charming.

It gets on Blitzø's nerves.

Meanwhile, Striker is finding himself progressively more interested in you.

You're such a cute doll... always so spooked.

Striker finds himself getting more and more attached as he hunts your stalker down.

You're a nice lady imp... one he wishes to hoist into his arms and claim.

The entire time Blitzø is seething, trying to regain your attention during the jobs you two have.

He's so much better than Striker...

Hiring him for a stalker... for him...

How could you!?

The fact you didn't come to Blitzø makes him worried.

You suspect him, don't you?

The rivalry fully starts once Striker realizes who his target is.

He's following a lead, staying nearby as he watches over you.

Then he notices Blitzø of all imps hiding in the shadows... watching you.

This stirs many things in Striker.

He's both excited yet irritated that Blitzø is the one doing this.

Should he even tell you your boss is stalking you?

Why should he bother... He can take care of this himself.

This is another rivalry I can see both yanderes killing each other in.

It's not like they haven't tried before.

The issue is... they have to consider you.

Striker knows he can't just kill your boss outright.

Once Blitzø knows Striker caught him, he's on edge and overly clingy with you.

By this point, both imps are interested in you.

They both consider you their sweet gall, their object of obsession....

It's no doubt also a power struggle between them.

Claiming you would establish some sort of dominance between the imps.

Considering how much they hate each other....

Striker wants to claim Blitzø's obsession as it would show he's superior.

Meanwhile Blitzø both fears for his own life and yours.

You may not even know Blitzø is your stalker until you see the two confront one another.

You hear fighting on a mission, going to check it out...

Only to see the two imps bleeding and fighting each other like wild cats.

When you try to break it up, Striker cuts you off.

"You wanted your stalker dead, didn't you, gal?" Striker hisses, a grin on his face as Blitzø struggles. "Well, here he is, your stalker...."

You had your assumptions... yet still struggled to believe what you saw.

"Huh!? No, baby! He's lying! He's a snake! Don't you trust me? I'd never hurt you!" Blitzø pleads.

"I didn't think Blitz would be my stalker! Don't kill him, we can work something out...?" You plead, only for Striker to scoff.

"Oh, doll... I was going to kill him either way. Hate the guy, really. Doesn't deserve a pretty lady like you anyways." Striker teases, only to hiss in pain when Blitzø hits him and scuttles away.

"Oh HELL no! You are NOT trying to make her yours! She's mine! I don't care anymore! Claws OFF!" Blitzø growls, not even caring that you know about his habits.

Imps are creatures of hellish desire and wild habits.

That's proven between the two as they claw and bite at one another for your attention.

The good news is... you know your stalker...

The bad news? You're pretty sure you have two admirers now...

If they don't kill each other first.

There's a good chance they will if it means one of them has you.

If they don't do it now... they'll try again later.

It doesn't matter if you fight against the winner's attempts at courting you or not...

You've seen them kill, this time is no different.

If the winner has to drag you with them, they will, they won you fair and square... you belong to them.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven!✨💕

I would like to ask you for an imagine/scenario or character interaction with Crewel and Vil (platonic ofc), where they talk about fashion and everything like the queens they are and they just always have the hottest tea! Talking about the school etc.

It's a casual fic idea without any angst or things like that, maybe somewhere along the way they start talking about Yuu who's Vil's friend, that he has a bit of a crush on? It may start at the Vil's alchemy lesson or smth-

Anyways, the main focus is hot tea between the fashion queens🙏👑 Thank you!💖

This interaction takes place after the events of book 6, so there will be spoilers for that.

I kept the “Vil has a crush on Yuu” element out of this particular interaction since I didn’t find it super relevant 💦 I want the focus of this blog event to be Crewel and his relationships with others. Maybe if the interaction had been posed like Vil coming to Crewel for love advice (since Crewel is a trusted adult for him), it could have fit better. Either that, or I’d advise waiting for more generalized writing requests to open ^^

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“Crewel-sensei.”

He turned at the call of his voice. “Schoenheit.”

Vil, dressed in his labwear, approached. A beaker of a bubbling substance carefully was ferried in his gloved hand, which he offered to his instructor. “The Peddler’s Disguise is done. You may evaluate it for its quality.”

Crewel accepted the potion, gently swirling it to test the viscosity and noting the color.

“It was brewed with mummy dust, black of night, an old hag’s cackle, and a scream of fright. I then churned over high heat with a blast of wind and a thunderbolt.”

"You've memorized the recipe. Excellent work." Crewel set the beaker down on a lab bench and marked off Vil's name on a clipboard. "You're making up for lost time at a record pace."

"Of course. There is no excuse for falling behind," Vil insisted, tossing his blonde hair over one shoulder.

Crewel quirked a brow. "Not even being kidnapped? How strong-minded of you. I was surprised when you came to me asking to hit the ground running with makeup classes upon your return.”

He looked Vil up and down. “You remain put-together for someone who has gone through an event most would consider unsettling. Is it your PR training keeping you cool in the public eye?”

Vil folded his arms. "... If you're trying to be subtle with your worries, then you're doing a poor job of it, sensei.”

"And is there a problem with a teacher having concern for his student?”

“No, not at all.” A smirk flickered onto Vil’s lips. “Then shall we drop the pretenses? Though so bear in mind that I am under a strict NDA, so I can only divulge so many details.”

“Let’s,” Crewel agreed. “I presume you cannot share the bulk of your harrowing experience.”

Vil nodded. “But fortunately, I can tell about the worst of it… The atrocious lack of attention to self care!!”

“Our school uniforms were taken away and we were made to wear the same sterile grey uniforms every day. Threads as thin as hospital gowns, collared like misbehaved mongrels… Why, it was the worst injustice I faced in that facility.

“Not only that, but the air in the enclosure was stale and terribly drying.” Vil patted his cheek and shuddered at the memory. “It wreaked havoc on my skin.

“Worse still was that I was denied access to any skincare products and cosmetics! I was told that they were a safety hazard and to ‘rinse off with water and soap and go bare faced for a while, what are you aggro’ing about’!! Can you believe the GALL?! I was just about ready to let the staff have my wrath.”

Vil paused, taking a breath to calm himself. “… I was only saved thanks to a gaggle of nosy potatoes and a certain huntsman.”

“Speaking of, Hunt caused quite the stir at school when he vanished. Pomefiore was already suffering without its dorm leader and expected its vice dorm leader to step up fill that role in your stead… but with Hunt mysteriously gone, Pomefiore was without anyone in charge.”

“As I rightfully scolded him for.” Vil sighed deeply. "I was informed that Trein-sensei served as acting headmaster while the situation was unfolding. How did he address the issue of Pomefiore's missing leadership?"

"You're looking right at him," Crewel replied with a dry laugh. "I was called in to supervise the dormitory on top of my usual teaching duties. It seems the old man... excuse me, I mean my esteemed colleague, decided to put his faith in his favorite ex-troublemaker. Who was I to deny him?

"For the time Hunt and his rescue squad were away, I stayed at Pomefiore and kept watch over its students. What a mess—there are hardly time for my personal upkeep, nor a moment to steal away and seek the comfort of my beloved dogs... My clothes were horribly creased and my hair unkempt when the news first broke of your return.”

"What a harrowing tale of sacrifice. I apologize for the inconvenience my vice dorm leader imposed on you. He'll be getting another earful from me.”

“Hmph, no need. Though it was an inconvenience at the time, I am glad to see that you’ve come back to us safe snd sound. Perhaps it is not so bad for you pups to act selfishly every now and again.”

“Oh? Careful, Crewel-sensei. We may just take that as the green light to behave even more selfishly.”

“Then I will be there to keep you in line."

"Is that so? I'll be holding you accountable to that promise."

"And I'll be holding you accountable for your dorm's students," Crewel promised with the same ease as Vil.

There was a mutual understanding between them, the same spark set in their eyes. Teacher and student, fashionista and fashionista.

Together, they radiated an overwhelming aura.

[indyanapolis898]

Mastermind

Peter Parker x f!reader

Synopsis: Peter has a crush on you from afar. One day you ask him to tutor you and things go from there.

Note: This really doesn't follow any specific canon from the movies.

"You know staring at Y/N won't make her like you."

Peter's head shot up at the sound of a voice behind him, that of MJ's. 

"W-what are you talking about?" Peter chuckled awkwardly, doing a horrible job of lying. 

"Me and Ned notice how much you watch Y/N. You always bring up any interaction you two have- and so much more! You like her. Just admit it, nerd," MJ explained amid the noisy school cafeteria. 

"So what if I do?" Peter shrugged as MJ sat next to him. 

"You should make a move- oh wait- you're too scared," MJ said with a sly smirk, begging him to fight back, which he did. 

"Nervous? I'm an Avenger! I don't get nervous!" Peter hissed.

"Then go talk to her, Avenger" MJ shrugged like it was the only obvious option.

"Well- I- I just don't want her to think I'm weird."

"Well, then you're out of luck in that regard," she joked dryly. "You two used to be close. Why can't you spark up a conversation about, like, the past?" 

"'Cause it's random, and also, we were friends in middle school! That was a while ago, MJ!"

"OK, Parker, I give up. Enjoy your futile people-watching."

Peter watched as MJ walked away to the lunch line. She wasn't wrong. He was too scared to even consider being near Y/N. 

The boy sighed, going back to eating his lunch after you left the room. 

___

"Alrighty!" Mr. Harrington clapped his hands together. "We have a new member for this semester's Academic Decathlon!"

The club whispered among themselves in anticipation of who it could be. Peter glanced up from his book when, of course, you entered the classroom with a new copy of the textbook. 

"I'm sure you all know Y/N, so welcome her into the club and help her get acquainted with the material for today's practice."

You smiled shyly at the group, waving and going to take a seat in the open chair next to Flash.

Peter silently groaned, letting his head fall onto the desk. Of course, it was you, and of course, you had to sit next to Flash. Flash had an obvious crush on you as well. 

"Peter. Wanna start off today's practice?" Mr. Harrington asked, staring directly at Peter as he lifted his head off his desk. Everyone was looking at him.

Peter sighed, standing up with his textbook to go to the podium to call the questions. 

The first round went by fast. You answered three times, getting all answers right. Peter could feel himself smile every time you rang the bell. 

Peter tried his best to compliment you when you answered during the second round. 

At one point, Peter asked a question the Flash rang in for. Peter watched as the boy mouthed to you: watch this. 

Flash got the question wrong, making you slightly giggle. Peter chucked, as did the rest of the class, at Flash's misplaced confidence. However, Peter wasn't laughing at Flash this time- he was laughing because you laughed. Peter wanted to cling on to any bit of you he could. He was glad Flash's terrible attempt to show off failed. 

After a few more rounds, Peter traded off with another student. Peter didn't want to be like Flash and do a flashy show-off of his skills, but he did want to impress you. 

Peter heard the first question- ringing in as soon as he could. He wasn't confident with his odds but gave a shaky answer, which was revealed to be correct. 

Peter smiled slightly. When he glanced to the left, you were smiling at him, presumably because he aced the question. He smiled back at you, hoping this was some sort of connection. You were noticing him!

If that was what it took, he could do it. Peter answered every question he could, getting almost all right. He got a thumbs-up from you once after a question!

___

After practice ended, he was packing his bag to leave when you approached him. Peter felt his heart speeding up dramatically.

"Hey, Peter. Love the jacket," you started things off, making Peter smile and examine his jacket, vowing to wear it more often. 

"Thank you. I... like your shirt. Um- you did good on your first day," Peter gave a tightlipped smile, trying to act normal. 

"Thanks, but you were on fire! Like seriously, some of those questions were insane," you gushed, grinning the whole time.

"Oh, wow, uh, thank you!" Peter stuttered out, causing you to giggle. "You gave great answers, too!" He rushed to follow up.

"Yeah, about that... those were the bare minimum. I joined this club to help raise my grades. Clearly you know your stuff, so... I have the biggest favor to ask."

Peter raised his brows. "Uh, yeah, what's that?"

"So, it's OK if you say no because it's so random, but could you tutor me in some of the subjects covered here? I could really use the help, but again it's OK if y-"

"I'll do it," Peter agreed quickly, blushing at how eager he sounded. You grinned largely. 

"Seriously? 'Cause I could pay you if that's necessary." 

"Y/N, you don't have to pay anything. Honestly, I mean, it's the least I can do for the girl who defended me from Jose in 8th grade," Peter recalled a memory from their past, mentally punching himself for saying something that most likely meant nothing to her.

"You still remember that? Wow, I didn't know I could even make an impact like that," you said, surprised in a good way.

Peter decided to roll with it. "Uh, yeah, I mean, Jose was a jerk, so I was just glad someone stood up for me. So, uh, yeah," Peter awkwardly chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Anytime. But yeah, thank you so much for agreeing. When are you free to go over the material?"

Peter supposed one evening without Spider-Man wouldn't hurt. "Tonight," he said right away. "Um, like five?"

"Can do. At the library?"

"Absolutely."

"See you then, Peter. Thanks again," you waved at him as you left the class to go to your next. 

___

"So, you're telling me that all you had to do was be nerdy, and she just came up to you?" MJ recounted Peter's story in a tone laced with disbelief.

"Yes! Seriously. If you didn't have to miss today's practice for your re-do test, you would've seen it! So, believe it or not, I've gotta get to the library soon and tutor Y/N," Peter said cockily, standing up from the barstool at the cafe MJ part-timed at. 

MJ just rolled her eyes but gave a genuine smile. "Good luck. Don't screw it up."

"Thanks? I'll try not to."

With that, Peter slung his bag onto his back and left the shop, library-bound. 

___

The library wasn't awfully busy that weekday, making it easy to find a table in a corner. Peter laid his books and notebooks out, realizing you wouldn't know where he was, nor did he have your number to text you. 

Everything worked out, however, when you wandered into the back section he was sitting, looking lost. Your eyes lit up at the sight of him, making Peter's stomach churn in a good way.

You walked with a purpose over to the table, sitting your stuff down. "I was looking all over for you," you grinned, not meaning it in a guilt-tripping way. 

Peter realized he actually had to reply instead of staying in a daydream. "Oh- yeah. I sat here and realized you might not be able to find me, but luckily you did."

"Yeah, it only took like, seven different aisles," you laughed before opening your notebook.

Peter couldn't tell if he was just nervous or if he just loved the sound of your laugh, but his heart raced. 

"So, I was thinking... we could piggyback off what we did in practice today?"

"Sounds good. I'm sure whatever I learn will be good when you're teaching it," you said, laying your chin on the palm of your hand. 

Peter could feel his face heat up. He ducked his head down to the textbook and chuckled. "Yeah... I- uh- just start in on page five right here."

For thirty minutes, Peter was able to impart some knowledge your way. After you two finished a chapter, you turned to Peter with a closed-mouth smile. "This has been really helpful, thank you."

Peter frowned. "You're done?"

You continued smiling. "Just for today, yeah. But I'm really hungry... do you wanna get something to eat?"

Peter perked up at the invitation to continue spending time together. "Yeah, I'd love to!" He said very excitedly, to which you just giggled. 

"OK, c'mon. I'll show you this really good Thai place I like down the block."

You and Peter collected your things, exiting the library together to walk down the sidewalk to the restaurant of choice.

"So, you had that Stark Internship, right?"

"Yeah- still do, actually. I'm still just the young guy, though."

"Hey, they'll realize what a dedicated worker you are, and when they do, they'll have to give you more opportunities."

"You think so?"

"You seem like you have a great work ethic, Peter, so yeah, I do think so."

Peter just grinned, looking down at the sidewalk. You were making him nervous.

___

The restaurant you two entered was moderately nice for a casual New York City restaurant. 

You both ordered at the counter and then sat at an empty table.

Peter wanted to try and flirt, but he knew he'd be super awkward and make things weird. Nevertheless, he still attempted to gain your favor.

"You caught on really fast with the Academic stuff. It was like you already knew it! So, I guess you're a natural."

You looked away and grinned. "Thank you. I- um- guess I just needed a few reminders, is all."

Peter cocked a brow, but their food was placed in front of them at that moment. The two ate, sharing conversation about middle school and how annoying some of their classes were now. 

Somehow, the topic got moved on to Flash. 

"You know Flash has a thing for you," Peter decided to throw bait into the water as the pair left the restaurant, being that they had finished their food.

You furrowed your brows. "Yeah, I know. We actually have two classes together- three counting Decathalon now. He hits on me every day. It gets tiring really fast."

"What?" Peter exclaimed in fake shock. "You don't appreciate all his futile attempts to be a womanizer?"

You laughed and shook your head. "Crazy, right? I might be the only one who doesn't. I just- I just already have my eyes on someone else."

"Oh," Peter mumbled aloud, regretting how disappointed he sounded. "Um... is it weird to ask-"

"Who it is?" you cut him off. "Yeah, I was hoping you would've guessed by now," you stopped walking, Peter doing the same, peering at you with confusion. 

"I-I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be invasive. I-"

"It's you, Peter. I've been trying to flirt with you and give you hints, hoping you'd make a move," you chuckled to fill the air.

"Oh... Oh!" Peter put a hand to his chest. "You," he pointed at you, then back at himself. "Like me?"

"Yes!" You desperately hoped he felt the same.

"I- woah. I really like you too, Y/N," Peter sputtered out.

"Really? Because I was starting to think my plan failed."

"Plan?"

"You said it yourself in the restaurant... I already knew that stuff we were learning. I don't need tutoring. I just decided to ask you so... I dunno," you looked away embarrassed. "So we could do something outside of school."

When you looked back up, Peter was grinning widely. "You made a plan just to be with me?" 

You nodded. 

"That's- wow. I was trying to drop hints all day too, but I suck at anything flirting-wise. I was just excited you kept asking to do stuff, but you planned this all along. You made the dominoes fall until we were here."

"I didn't know this would be how I confessed, but yeah. I don't need tutoring when I'm the mastermind," you joked and shrugged.

"Maybe it's my turn to do something..." Peter looked into your eyes, searching your face. "Can I kiss you?"

You leaned in, letting that be your answer. His lips met yours as you two kissed in the darkening evening. The cool Queens air hit the side of your face as you pulled away, catching your breath. 

"Was that good? Because I'm definitely not an expert."

You just giggled. "Yes, it was great, Peter."

"Can I walk you home?" Peter pursed his lips, waiting for an answer.

You nodded and thanked him graciously with another kiss. With that, you two set off toward your apartment as the street lights flickered on in the chilled air.

___

"...And then we kissed. Boom! In your face!"

MJ rolled her eyes and laughed while Ned clapped Peter on the back.

"Dude! You got a girlfriend!"

Peter chuckled at Ned's enthusiasm. Peter's phone dinged at that moment. It was a text from you. 

"Gotta go, guys. Peter has a second date today with Y/N."

"Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?" 

"Yep, deal with it!" Peter called, already out the door of the cafe. 

___

You were waiting at the subway station. Peter jogged down the stairs, joining you to enter the train and go ice skating. 

You reached your hand out, Peter taking it as you two entered the train. 

It was only the second date, but you knew Peter was going to make you happy. You simply looked up at Peter, smiling, which he returned with his signature grin.

The train's doors shut, and you two were carried away down the tracks, ready for what was to come. 

[nino-rox]

ANOMALY | CHAPTER TWO

Stiles Stilinski x Original Male Reader | M.O

Warnings : None, Teen Wolf AU, Teen Wolf x Original Male Character, Teen Wolf SPOILER ALERT, Gore

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post

{Author’s Note: Thank you for the requests! Please leave a comment or suggestion!}

[CHAPTER 2] [2,500 words]

As you reached the benches, you were absolutely fucking appalled; how is it that wherever you went, you'd run into those two boys - they were sitting next to Lydia - you sighed, taking a deep breath as you walked over, putting on your best smile...

The two boys glanced at each other, not expecting you to be the one to show up.

Lydia was the first to speak, "Oh, Y/N, hey. Glad you could make it."

"Of course, thanks for inviting me," you responded.

"This is Scott; he's in our biology class. He's really nice, and that's Stiles. They're childhood friends. You met them this morning. "

"Yeah, I did," you chuckled.

"So, Y/N, Lydia tells us you're from Los Angeles?" Stiles asks.

"Yeah, I am,"

"Why move?" Stiles questioned abruptly.

As Lydia took a breath, mildly embarrassed at Stiles' inability to subtly ask someone a question without sounding like he was interrogating them.

"My mother got a job here," Y/N replied, smiling. 

"So what was the deal with the 10-foot metal chain you carried around?" Y/N asked, curious, making Lydia raise an eyebrow towards the duo.

"We had it in the trunk of our jeep, and it kinda fell out and rolled… in your locker," Stiles said, making a face and grinning in the hopes you'll let it go, while Scott looked pale and tense.

Despite sensing they were obviously hiding something, Y/N decided to let it go -  "So you were planning on chaining something or someone? What is it, like a kinky sex thing?" You said, laughing, and Stiles' eyes widened in shock at your question.

Stiles is still in shock, mildly blushing. Scott and Lydia just look at him in amusement and then look away, laughing.

"HEY MCCALL!!" The coach's voice interrupted from the other side of the seating area.

"YOU and BALINSKI BETTER GET YOUR ASSES TO PRACTICE NOW!!!"

Scott glanced at Stiles, signalling something. Stiles nodded, not noticing you had caught their little exchange. This piqued your interest, so you decided to try tagging along to…you know…get to know your lovely friends better (that's LA slang for stalk these dum bitches)

"You guys have a practice or something? I've got nothing to do. Can I tag along?" Y/N asked

"Uhhh yeah, sure," Scott responded, not knowing why he did. Stiles immediately snapped his head to Scott in pure disbelief as if he'd blown some cover.

You followed the boys, and on the way, Scott and Stiles explained lacrosse to you - you never said you didn't know the game - they assumed you'd never played.

The team was warming up, and Scott took his post as goalkeeper while you sat at the bleachers to watch the boys. 

Suddenly, your phone rang. Perfect timing, you thought to yourself. You quickly picked up your best friend's call and caught her up on everything.

"I was thinking of trying out on their team. What do you think ?" Y/N asked Maria.

"No way. I thought you said you were done with lacrosse after what happened?"

"Yeah, but like it or not, this might be a clean slate…"

Suddenly, you saw the goalie (goalkeeper)—Scott—run towards the charging player and tackle him, both falling to the ground. This caused the coach to abuse air into his whistle, fuming at what he saw.

"Did that goalie just leave the..?" Maria, who was also watching through FaceTime, asked, confused

"HEY MCCALL ????? WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ??? The position is goal KEEPER, not goal ABANDONER. STOP LEAVING THE GOAL POST," Coach Finstock Yelled into Scott's ears.

You chuckled, amused at what you were seeing

"Yeah, you still want to try out for their team babe?" Maria shot smugly.

As the next player began to charge, Scott suddenly left his position again, his whole team confused, and coach Finstock looked like he could resign at any minute. Maria laughed, "You were right; these two are crazy AF."

You noticed something weird. When Scott tackled the other boy to the ground, it was almost as if … he… sniffed?…him.

After another yelling from the coach, Scott did the same thing again, and you saw it happen again; you were sure of it. He leaned in and sniffed the guy before looking towards Stiles and shaking his head. 

"I was thinking of trying out on their team. What do you think ?" Y/N asked Maria.

"No way. I thought you said you were done with lacrosse after what happened?"

"Yeah, but like it or not, this might be a clean slate…"

Suddenly, you saw the goalie (goalkeeper)—Scott—run towards the charging player and tackle him, both falling to the ground. This caused the coach to abuse air into his whistle, fuming at what he saw.

"Did that goalie just leave the..?" Maria, who was also watching through FaceTime, asked, confused

"HEY MCCALL ????? WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ??? The position is goal KEEPER, not goal ABANDONER. STOP LEAVING THE GOAL POST," Coach Finstock Yelled into Scott's ears.

You chuckled, amused at what you were seeing

"Yeah, you still want to try out for their team babe?" Maria shot smugly.

As the next player began to charge, Scott suddenly left his position again, his whole team confused, and coach Finstock looked like he could resign at any minute. Maria laughed, "You were right; these two are crazy AF."

You noticed something weird. When Scott tackled the other boy to the ground, it was almost as if … he… sniffed?…him.

After another yelling from the coach, Scott did the same thing again, and you saw it happen again; you were sure of it. He leaned in and sniffed the guy before looking towards Stiles and shaking his head.

You don't know what you were witnessing, but something weird was going on.

The sheriff came onto the field, escorting one of the boys Scott tackled to a van. Seeing this, Y/N began making his way to the two boys.

The boys weren't facing him and didn't see him coming close. As Y/N approached, he stopped after overhearing something they had said. 

"How good are these cells at holding people?" Scott asked in a worried tone.

"People, good…werewolves ?? Not so good."

You were confused. Is this what people meant by weird stories and stuff about this place? Are these two nuts part of some ghost-hunting club?

Y/N hears Scott say something about a wolf and a scent.

"It's him. He's a werewolf, I know it. We have to get him. He's got a scent to main and kill people,"

"How can you tell?"

"I don't know, I just can, and his father just died, and they think he did it, so that's not helping."

What the hell are these two talking about? You heard the sheriff tell the boys they had to leave. You turned around, avoiding whatever mess they were about to get into.

"So, are you going to try out for the team?" Stiles asks as he approaches Y/N.

"Ummm, no, not interested, and I was just kidding earlier," you said.

"Aw, and I thought we'd get to hang more", Stiles pouts.

You roll your eyes playfully at him and start walking, but suddenly, as Stiles follows, he falls down, "OWWWWWW."

"You okay?" Y/N asked.

"Yup, totally," Stiles said as he picked up his lacrosse stick.

You could tell the boy was lying and trying to hide the fact that his ankle hurt, and Y/N had to admire his attempt at protecting his ego.

"Here, lean on me," Y/N said, sighing as you helped him.

Stiles looked at Y/N in utter confusion.

"Are you serious?" Stiles asked, surprised that Y/N didn't just laugh and walk off.

"Yes, you dumbo. Come on, lean," Y/N said, laughing slightly and rolling his eyes - something inside him feeling just a little bit weird.

Stiles wrapped his hand around Y/N as they continued to the parking lot to his jeep. 

The walk was silent. Both boys noticed each other's breathing as the wind gently blew past them. The loud world felt somewhat calmer as leaves rustled in the wind, and the nature around them felt like a peaceful addition to the sound of their footsteps. 

Y/N was always fond of scents; it was perhaps one of his more stereotypically "effeminate" traits as compared to his general masculine nature for the most part, according to his best friend. He couldn't help but notice that despite Stiles not seeming to have any perfume on, his scent was…Y/N pondered how to describe it for a moment before settling on a simple "It's nice…" Not known to Y/N, the boy by his side was enamoured by Y/N's scent; it wasn't a masculine cologne or a feminine scent; it was just sweet, but just the right amount, almost addictive, with a hint of something that made you feel like perfection?

(Author's Note: LMAO Stiles, are you sure it's the "scent" you're finding so 'perfect’ ?? Awww)

As the boys neared the parking lot, Stiles stopped momentarily, looking at you, breaking the silence. "Y/N… I'm sorry about the morning, with the chains and stuff," he said slowly, his voice trailing.

"Oh, that? Don't worry about it; it was nothing," Y/N said, smiling slightly.

"I don't think so… at the moment when it happened, you seemed to be quite upset, it was like for a moment I saw some panic, you didn't like being in the centre with everyone eyeing you…I…think…so you don't have to brush it off and say it was nothing, so I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

As much as you tried to hide the fact that his words affected you, your eyes widened, and you froze, the smile on your face faltering. You knew one day someone would have been able to see through your facade, except perhaps not so soon.

Y/N didn't quite know what to say as the buzz-cut boy stared into his eyes; perhaps Stiles was more than a dunce…Y/N had never noticed that Stiles had read him that much; a part of that fact scared Y/N. It was threatening that someone read emotions he might've buried. Either way, he was grateful for Stiles' apology, but saying thank you and acknowledging Stiles would mean accepting that he was indeed "that" bothered by what had happened, and he tried to hide it. Y/N wasn't mentally ready for the stranger he met to know that. 

Somewhere deep down, Y/N wanted to hug Stiles and thank him for caring enough to notice and care about him—a stranger he didn't even know, who, until now, had just looked down on him and wanted to avoid him.

"I think you're reading into it too much, Stiles. Besides, I was just shocked and caught off guard, nothing more. It doesn't mean anything, so it's fine," Y/N said, walking forward while supporting Stiles.

Stiles knew the boy was lying. He wondered why Y/N seemed … scared, but he couldn't help but respect that Y/N wasn't ready to open up...yet.

As the two boys walked to where Stiles said he parked, Scott was near his blue jeep, leaning against the side while talking to someone on the phone.

"That blue jeep is mine," Stiles said as he checked out the sleek black SUV parked next to him, mouthing damn as if he had just checked out a hot girl.

Y/N couldn't help but smirk.

"This one's yours, huh?" Y/N asked, pointing towards the jeep.

"Yes, she is. What about her?" Stiles asked.

"You should really get it fixed; the entire body's dented," Y/N replied.

"Heyyyy, she's fine. She's been like this for years, and she's still running well. Besides, I have duct tape," Stiles said defensively, which made Y/N laugh.

"Hey, let's go ?" Scott said, getting into the jeep. Y/N took his arm off Stiles' side as he got into the car, waving as the clunky jeep drove off.

He took a deep breath, looking at the dusk sky, tired and shocked. His first day had been more complicated than he had expected.

Y/N got into his car and sat behind the steering wheel, not quite knowing what to think or how to react. Everything felt different—his day, his emotions, his heart? He felt knackered and needed some sleep, so he drove home.

As he reached his home, Y/N saw a note his mother left saying she was staying late at work and not to wait for her.

He walked into his room, stripping and quickly showering before bed.

Y/N didn't know what had happened. He was always fine being alone and never needed friends or companionship. But today, as he lay in bed, something about the day's events kept running through his mind. He had a strange urge to call his mom and talk to her, but she had an important surgery, and he didn't want to bother her. So, Y/N sighed, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, and as he dozed off to sleep, he couldn't help but feel like a certain "scent" was missing.

After his day, it didn't take long for Y/N to drift into a slumber. But the cold kept him from getting comfortable. He shifted around, turning and tossing, but it was no use; it felt likely it was getting colder; annoyed that his sleep was disturbed, Y/N got up to turn up the heat, freezing in shock.

It was pitch black, and the comfort of his bed no longer supported his body - it was nowhere to be felt - and crickets chirped as thin beams of moonlight shone through dense trees—Y/N was in a forest.

As Y/N felt the wet ground and mulch under him, the reality and panic began to set in. He was in a forest! A dark forest, cold, half naked, and something was…hurting.

Y/N felt it, and there was an overwhelming sense of pain.

His mind was hazy, and as his hands found the source of his pain, his eyes watered at the sight of a bear trap digging into his foot, blood spilling.

Panic filled his head; the pain, the forest, and the cold made his senses overflow, and not before long, Y/N felt something … something was there…just ahead of him…looking right at him…he could feel it in his gut…but the darkness masked it. . .It was right there…

The air was cold, and the silence was deafening; all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat.

He felt the presence coming closer, and as the wind blew, a gust of cold air hit him, carrying a scent. The scent smelled like something was rotting or slowly…dying.

Y/N whimpered in silence, trying to move back, but the trap held him firmly in place. He was powerless, pinned down by the trap, unable to get up and run, and as his fear peaked, he saw something terrifying.

Its eyes glowed yellow, as dark slits in its eyes appeared, a hiss emitted from its throat, saliva dripping from its mouth as it bared its fangs. It stood up like a human, its body covered in scales with a tail that was getting dangerously close to Y/N's neck.

Y/N was frozen in fear, unable to move or breathe, his heart beating out of his chest as the creature's tail lunged towards him, piercing his shoulder and causing his whole body to spasm in pain.

It felt like someone had ripped his shoulder apart, and the feeling of his bones cracking, his muscle tissue ripping, the nerves in his shoulder being severed. His flesh torn apart was excruciatingly painful. His voice was lost, and his breath hitched as he tried to scream out in pain.

The creature hissed once again, its tail still deep inside his shoulder, twisting around and moving about, causing more pain than Y/N could ever have imagined. But suddenly, his body began to go numb. Y/N couldn't move a single muscle; he lay there paralysed, his eyes wide in fear, tears streaming down his face as the creature got closer.

Y/N saw its claws extend; as it got closer, he could feel its breath on his face. Still, suddenly, it snapped its head in another direction, running off, leaving Y/N bleeding in silence.

He saw a dark shadow approach him, and the last thing he heard before his vision went blank was the sound of his own screams.

Please Request for CHAPTER ~ 3