#dominic hale

[dragonfruits02]

my (unfinished) spy school live-action casting

unfinished because i know like no child actors😭

JASON BATEMAN as ALEXANDER HALE:

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PHOEBE WALLER-BRIDGE or CHARLOTTE RITCHIE as CATHERINE HALE:

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BRYAN CRANSTON as CYRUS HALE:

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DOMINIC SESSA as JOSHUA HALLAL:

(can’t stress how much i need him to play joshua.)

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TONY SHALHOUB as PAUL LEE:

(i know this is super random but he would be so good as paul lee 😭 i love tony)

[rowinablx]

Family

The house explosion from Furious 7 but with Beck and Natalie

@axelwolf8109 @lynsrosegarden @jackiequick @greek-freak101 @epickiya722 @dombrianoteretto @

"Dom, you got a package from Tokyo!" Brian called out. "What, is Han trying to convert me to a turbocharger?" Dom laughed. Beck was struggling with putting Alexis in her car seat, sighing when she threw her toy car. "Baby, cars don't fly"

"Beck in a minivan, now I've seen it all" Dom teased his sister in law. Natalie sighed. "Don't remind me, I know he's struggling" She stepped off the porch, Brian walking to his brother to give the pair privacy.

Dom sighed. "I asked him last night, he said he doesn't miss the cars, the girls, none of it, he misses the blood and bullets. And I know Brian feels the same, it's an O'Connor thing" Natalie said, crossing her arms.

Dom looked at her. "I don't want him to be disappointed in his life" She started to walk again, Dom's phone rang and he answered it. "Yeah?"

"Dominic Toretto, you don't know me. But you're about to"

A GPS signal showed from Tokyo, Dom took one look at the box and his eyes widened. "Get down!"

The package that looked so innocent only a couple seconds ago exploded, taking the house with it

He grabbed Natalie and dropped to the ground, Beck ducking, and Brian closing the car door to protect his niece. The shockwave slammed his head to the window roughly, causing the glass to break.

Dom didn't let Natalie go until the noise stopped. "Beck!" She ran to her husband, Dom following when he saw blood running down Brian's forehead.

Alexis was shaking and clearly scared but unharmed, Beck hugging her tightly, Natalie looking over them both, tears running down.

Dom hugged Brian close. He couldn't even look at the ruins of his house, all he knew was someone had tried to kill his family and they would suffer.

[hellooosailor]

hm

[persephone342]

Does anyone else feel disturbed by Connor and Rose from the Calloway series?

Like I'm absolutely in awe of their chemistry, banter and the core's interactions; but, also constantly haunted by how dominance and submission were subtly introduced. Rose was undoubtedly my favourite character at the beginning of the series. Her need for achievement and fierce protectiveness made me fall in love with her. She appeared to be a vision of all overachieving, wanna-be hardworking girls. But, her accepting Connor and his narcissistic tendencies makes me feel abused.

Was it really love?

will Connor be able to let go of his need for dominance for her?

I (personally ) felt Connor was manipulating her, giving her the bare minimum of what she desired and giving hope for better. He always was able to bend her to his will. How are we worshipping this red flag?

Is it just me?

[sundrop-writes]

Why Am I The One?

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

I’ll hold you like I used to - you know that I am home.

So darling if you love me... would you let me know? 

Or go on, go on, go on - if you were thinking that the worst is yet to come.

Why am I the one always packing up my stuff?

For once, for once, for once, I get the feeling that I’m right where I belong. 

Why Am I The One always packing up my stuff? 

Summary:

Isaac loves you. He loves you more than anything else in the world - which is exactly why he has stayed away from you for so long.

But when Derek kicks him out onto the street in the pouring rain with absolutely no warning and no reasoning as to why, Isaac has nowhere else to go. He could claim that he sought you out because you're close by, because he knows that you won't turn him away in his time of need - but deep down, it's because he misses you. And staying away from you for so long is the hardest, stupidest thing he has ever done.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 4.

Word Count: 15,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic is equal parts smut and emotional angst/plot; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; there is no description of the reader's race but the reader is implied to be plus-sized (I can't help myself lmao); the reader is completely human (doesn't have any supernatural powers); this is based on the part in 3x04 where Derek kicks Issac out of the apartment (without telling him that it's to protect him) and leaves Isaac with no place to go - and in this version, instead of going to Scott, he goes to the reader's place (and in this case, she is his ex-girlfriend); mentions of the reader's mother being killed by 'a monster' (Peter Hale in his Alpha form); mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father (non-detailed); Isaac being emotionally constipated/being unwilling to accept help/love/affection as a trauma response because of the abuse he experienced; Isaac emotionally bashing himself due to his trauma; cheating - Isaac 'cheated' on the reader with Erica and there is a depiction of that (them kissing, and later in the fic it mentions and glosses over some of their sexual experiences together) (Erica x Isaac is very much a background element); light Erica bashing from the reader - but a lot of this is written from Isaac's perspective, who is favourable to Erica, so I think it balances out (and I didn't want the narrative to pit the girls against each other because I hate that); Isaac verbally insults the reader during an argument and shoves her (not hard enough to harm or injure her, just to get her out of his personal space); Isaac wears the reader's clothes - so this implies that she is a size where she can comfortably share her pajamas and loungewear with him (I didn't mention if those clothes would be too big on him, just that he does fit into them); some Derek bashing - just because of the optics of what happened to Isaac and the reader not knowing Derek or his motives; mentions of Erica's canon death; for the smut - this is not the first time Isaac and the reader have had sex with each other (this is reunion sex for them); Isaac is more dominant and the reader is more submissive; there is lots of verbal praise (from Isaac toward the reader); slight mentions of the reader feeling insecure about her weight (but this is chased away by Isaac's verbal praise and it's not a prominent theme); protected sex (for once in one of my fics) - they use a condom; penis in vagina sex; slightly dubious consent - the reader is reminded of Isaac's cheating during sex and moves to end it, and Isaac continues (but it's very messy and emotional and the physical pleasure makes the reader want to continue and drowns out any doubts) (it is a very 'humans are not perfect, we are messy creatures' situation); lots of dirty talk - Isaac doesn't miss the opportunity to wind reader up with his dirty mouth; the reader slaps Isaac while they are having sex - not as a kink, but because she is upset at him; the sex goes from very rough to sweet love making (once they 'make up' with each other); orgasm denial (once - toward the reader); Isaac uses his strength to pin the reader down and to hold her arms down (not really strength kink, and I don't know if I would consider it bondage? idk); I think that is all.

A/N: We all know I'm in love with Isaac. His wooby pull attracted me like earth's gravitational pull, and Derek kicking him out into the rain so suddenly is literally the perfect recipe for a fic - the sadness, the emotions, and Isaac wearing a soaking wet white shirt like a whore. How could I not write a fic about this moment? Also, you guys know that I have been vibing with Exes to Lovers a lot lately - I just fucking love the concept of 'right person, wrong time' - it eats so hard. So this fic was a no brainer to me. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This fic is named after a song by Fun of the same name, and I actually found out that the song was written about the singer's experiences in foster care - having to constantly move from place to place and and feeling like he never had a true sense of 'home' because of it. And I love how well it suits Isaac's experiences - the fact that just when he started to establish a new sense of 'home' and family with Boyd and Erica, they were torn away from him. So I really wanted to use it for this fic.

...

It was a lonely night. 

But unfortunately, you had been experiencing a lot of those lately. 

Since the start of the school year, most of your ‘friends’ had been ghosting you. And that was putting it kindly. It seemed like everyone else was in some group, in on something else, always busy with something more important and not telling you why. 

You couldn’t think of anything you had said or done to offend them. And you knew that sometimes, people did just get busy, or drift apart. But you got the distinct vibe that they had been avoiding you intentionally for one reason or another - and you hated not knowing why. 

Sure, life had been weird for you since some giant prowling beast had murdered your mother, leaving your entire life in limbo. Since you had been locked in the school at night and discovered that one of your best friends from childhood, Scott, had the ability to turn into a fucking werewolf. But you were a bit more at ease when he used that ability to save your life from said giant prowling beast. 

You knew Scott would never hurt you. Which was why, only a few short weeks later, you used the much more human ability of an improvised hairspray flamethrower to save his life in return. 

But after you had witnessed that terrifying, burly beast lit on fire, forcing it to turn human - and then have its throat slashed by someone you later came to know as Derek Hale, Scott assured you that everything was ‘over’. Strangely enough, you trusted his words. And you actually expected your life to go back to some sense of normalcy after that night. 

Scott told you that he had mastered the ability to control himself on a full moon, and though there were others in town like him (no matter how much you nagged him, he wouldn’t tell you who), you didn’t have to worry about anyone else in your family being attacked. Not as long as he was around, he had assured you. 

Well, you didn’t have to worry about losing the little family that you had left.

With your mother gone and your father never in your life in the first place, you now lived with your sister in a small apartment downtown. She was attending the local college and working part time as a bartender and you were trying to finish up your education at Beacon Hills, despite the growing body count - which Scott still refused to tell you about. Claimed he didn’t know anything about, but you could sense the lies coming off him because you had known him for so long. 

You had a nagging feeling that him and Stiles knew far more about the recent wave of murders than they were letting on. And it had a whole lot to do with the reason why they were dodging all of your calls, texts, and any efforts that you made to hang out with them. Even Allison and Lydia weren’t returning your messages, and it was downright bothering you. 

So you were spending another Friday night at home by yourself while your sister went out on a date, as lonely as you had ever been and unable to do anything about it. But still, you were trying your hardest to make the best of it - getting ready to curl up on the couch to watch Netflix in your pajamas. All your homework was done purely out of boredom, and you had a pile of junk food ready to go, a few horror movies queued up when-

A knock on the door. Of course. 

It was either the creepy guy from down the hall who had ‘forgotten’ his key again, or your sister, who had forgotten one of several potential things. 

You put your bowl of chips aside, paused on the intro screen of the movie and heaved a sigh as you shrugged off your cozy throw blanket and shoved on your slippers to cross the cold floor toward the door. 

“Let me guess, you forgot your phone again?” You stated this loud enough for your sister to hear you through the door as you unhooked the safety chain and opened it, expecting her to come barreling in complaining about her poor memory. 

You found yourself entirely shaken with shock to discover that it wasn’t at all who you were expecting. 

“Isaac.” You breathed out the name in a gentle gasp, entirely in disbelief of him standing there. 

He was soaking wet from the rain, his white tee shirt sticking to his body in a way that shouldn’t have been as sinful and eye-catching as it was - his back slouched and his eyes low to the ground, indicating how truly shameful he was to be here at your doorstep, needing your help. He was shivering slightly all over, potent enough to be seen, clearly freezing from the cold water that had penetrated through his clothes and soaked him to the bone. 

He had walked through the pouring rain to get here - without a coat. 

And he was carrying a large duffle bag? 

Come to think of it, you had no clue where he had been staying since his father had died. But he had turned eighteen shortly before it happened (which was why they had been intent to charge him with murder when they thought he was responsible) - so he wouldn’t be a ward of the state just because he was an orphan. He had to be responsible for himself. Even if he wasn’t ready for that responsibility. 

He had been so damn intent on dodging your calls and ignoring you in person, so it’s not like he was letting you offer your help anyway. A large part of the reason that you were so surprised to see him here now. 

“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help but to ask, hating the bitterness that popped up in your voice, entirely against your will. 

You weren’t even sure if you were happy to see him. Not with the way things ended between the two of you. With the fact that he hadn’t even made an effort to apologize. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but you were the only person I could think of-” His voice was curdled and pathetic, edging on tears and shaking from how cold he was. 

“Of course.” You scoffed, a nearly automated response filled with resentment tapering over from months ago. 

You hated that he came to you in a time of crisis, something so natural to him, just like he used to. But he couldn’t lean on you in comfort, he couldn’t take the good with the bad. Isaac could never tolerate goodness - that was something you had learned quickly with him. 

But you knew that had to come with the territory - loving someone so broken and slipping on their sharp edges. You were bound to cut yourself every now and again. Isaac left you with more cuts than you could count, and you kept on coming back for more - because you loved him more than his bitterness. You loved him more than his thorns, more than the fight he put up when you tried to love him. 

Isaac frowned and shook his head, turning to leave again, and your chest seized up with fear and pain. Instinctively, you reached out for him, just like you had so many times before, and you caught him by one of his wrists, digging your fingers in. His skin was freezing and it made you realize even more that he needed you. It was cold outside and he needed you for warmth, for shelter, and so much more that he couldn’t even begin to ask for. 

“Isaac-” You choked out. 

The touch caused him to look up into your eyes, and it was a deadly attack of icy blue through wet lashes - wet from the rain or from his tears, you couldn’t be sure. He looked every bit a kicked puppy, and you knew that you couldn’t turn him away. You couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“I’m sorry.” You pressed, trying to make sure that he truly heard it and knew that you meant it. “Please don’t go. You should come in - you need to get warmed up. Isaac, please don’t think that I don’t care about you anymore. Please don’t think that I would turn you away,” 

That was how things always went with him. You begging him to take the most basic of care and kindness, you begging him to open up and receive everything you had to offer him. You begging him to let himself be loved. 

‘A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.’ 

It was something you had read once and could never get it out of your head every single time Isaac did this - every single time he ran from you trying to be kind to him. His father had ruined him in so many deeper ways than the marks left on his skin. 

“You shouldn’t.” He said - responding to your words carefully, quietly. 

But ultimately, he flexed to your touch and stepped inside, letting you close the door behind him, now dripping onto the welcome mat. He placed his bag down by his feet as you puzzled at his words. The confused look on your face caused him to further explain. 

“You shouldn’t care about me anymore.” 

You let out a sigh, retreating to the couch to grab the blanket you had just been covered up in. With your back turned to him, you used this as a quiet moment to squeak out a vulnerability, simply because you didn’t have to see his face when you said it. 

“Look, Isaac, despite what happened - I still do.” 

You whispered, unsure if he would hear you. You had no idea that with his enhanced werewolf hearing, he heard every single word crystal clear, including the overly emotional crack in your voice. 

“No matter what happens… I don’t think that I’ll ever stop caring about you.” 

Isaac held his breath at this. 

Dammit. 

… 

You and Isaac had dated for two years before it all happened. 

Two years ignorant ‘bliss’ before a giant monster - well, two different giant monsters actually - came barreling through town and supremely fucked up both of your lives. The one that killed your mother and the one that killed his father. 

Before that, the two of you were happy together. Isaac’s life with his father was not exactly blissful. Far from it. But he escaped from the horrors of it when he was with you. He was planning a life after graduation when he could get away with you, be free of his father, and the two of you could live a happy, normal life together. 

You were the love of Isaac’s life. He never loved anyone else like he loved you. 

He would deny it - but there was no past tense on that. You are overwhelming still the love of Isaac’s life. The two of you had your first kiss together, you lost your virginities to each other, you were the first person that he ever said the big L to. You made him so impossibly happy. 

You were the only person in the world who had helped him start on the impossible journey of healing from even a small portion of what his father had put him through. In a lifetime when he had felt abandoned, unloved, useless, abused - you made him feel loved. You made him feel like he was worth something as long as he was loving you. 

When Derek Hale promised him a solution to all of his problems, Isaac didn’t believe it. Derek promised him freedom, power, family - things he never even dreamed of having. The only problem? In this new family, he couldn’t have you. Having all of this new power would put you at risk. There were new dangers - hunters, people who would try to hurt you. With this new power, Isaac might even hurt you himself, even if unintentionally. 

Isaac wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed to it. Maybe because Derek made it sound so appealing. Maybe because he thought it was inevitable, just a matter of time before you found out that he was a poison seed and you stopped loving him, and he thought that he needed a backup plan for when that happened. Isaac thought he needed to stand on his own two legs without you. He didn’t need something as fading and immeasurable as love - he needed power. And Derek could give that to him. 

So he accepted Derek’s Bite - and he transcended into something bigger, badder, and better. Something that would never be loved by you again. 

The only problem was: you didn’t know that yet. 

His father was dead, he had found a new pack - there was just one last severance from his old life that needed to be made. So he did it as cleanly as he could. 

He broke your heart because it was something that needed to be done. 

… 

‘Meet me in the boys locker room at 4:45.’ 

It was a note in Issac’s handwriting - it had been slipped into your locker, clearly meant for some late afternoon rendezvous. At the very least, you were filled with joy at the prospect of getting to talk to your boyfriend alone. 

He had been acting so strange lately. Which was more than understandable, considering that his father had been murdered and he had been arrested for it. You hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him since you had exonerated him with your sworn testimony that he had been at your place on the night of the murder. (And of course, the cops hadn’t believed you until you had tracked down the take-out delivery guy who had also sworn that he had seen Isaac in your apartment when dropping off food that night.) 

You hadn’t gotten to spend any quality time with Isaac since then, so this felt like a breath of fresh air. You knew that lacrosse practice ended at 3:30, so the locker room would be empty - you wondered if Isaac just wanted to talk, wanted to walk you home, or something else entirely… 

Your stomach was bubbling with butterflies as you held the note in your hands and you rounded the corner into the locker room, excited to greet Isaac with a hug and feel his arms around you for the first time in far too long. 

You were surprised when you heard the sound of kissing. 

You wondered if you had walked in on someone else’s afternoon rendezvous by mistake - if the locker room was otherwise occupied and Isaac knew it too. Perhaps he had sent you a text to meet him somewhere else. Before you could pull out your phone to check, your eyes glanced up through the metal mesh and of the cubbies, and you caught a glimpse of absolutely unmistakable pale skin and dirty blond hair. 

A rough, muscled back with bright red scratch marks marring his skin. 

“Isaac?!” You gasped, utterly shocked. 

You charged further into the room, no longer caring if you were intruding on someone’s privacy - you needed to know. If this was just a terrible case of mistaken identity, then you would be embarrassed and profusely apologize. 

Your heart dropped, becoming a cold rock in your stomach when surely enough, it was your boyfriend standing there - shirtless, his pants undone, his face and chest smudged with red lipstick while Erica Reyes was pinned up against one of the lockers. She was smugly grinning at you, wearing nothing but jeans and a bra, her hair a complete mess. 

“Barge in, much?” Erica said, sounding more like a gloat than an accusation of your rudeness. 

You didn’t have the energy to pay her any mind. 

���Isaac, what the hell?” You screamed at him, sounding too pathetic to be angry, your voice already gripped by tears. 

“Can you give us a minute?” He said this to Erica, seeming far too casual. She simply shrugged, picking up her discarded shirt, jacket, and heels before she turned to leave. 

You clenched a shaking fist and simply gave her a glare. You knew that she had been on some kind of chaos streak lately, and Allison had mentioned that she had threatened to ‘steal’ Scott - something that more than left a sour taste in your mouth about a girl that you previously had a better opinion of. You didn’t think that she was cruel enough to actually go through with something like this. You used to think of her as a nice girl. 

But the bulk of your anger was most definitely directed at your piece of shit, cheating boyfriend. 

Isaac wiped the edge of his mouth with the back of his hand, not even getting off a small portion of the lipstick that was wildly smeared around his face. Then he moved to zip up his pants. You continued to gape at him in shock, a harsh, deep pain blooming in your chest as you waited for him to say something. 

“Isaac, tell me this is a joke-” You choked out, looking for some anchor to hold onto, some explanation. 

“A joke?” Isaac smiled, all teeth, the expression in his eyes downright dead. You found him impossible to read in those moments. “Y/N, the only joke here has been our relationship.” 

“You - you gave me a note.” You said, holding up the small slip of paper - the one that previously had you so giddy with joy at the prospect of spending time with him. “You told me to meet you here, I thought-” 

‘I thought you wanted to spend time with me. I thought you loved me.’ 

The words died off in your throat, clenching in on itself as the harsh waves of truth overtook you. 

If he wanted to break up with you, making out with Erica in front of you, putting on some show - it was one nasty way to do it. 

“Did I?” He asked, his tone sounding utterly sarcastic and mean, faking dumb in the absolutely worst way as he snatched the paper from you and pretended to look it over. “I guess I must have forgotten.” He shrugged. “When Erica came in here looking for me, I forgot all about you. Having her mouth all over me-” 

“Stop it.” You barked, cutting him off. 

Why was he being so cruel? Was he trying to make you angry on purpose? Why was he lying about forgetting that he had invited you here? 

Obviously he wanted you to see him kissing Erica - why was he lying about it now? 

“Why are you doing this?” You demanded, tears freely flowing down your face. 

Isaac’s eyes drifted to your cheeks, his wicked smirk flexing into a frown of his own - only for a second, a deep sadness penetrating through the mask he had carefully crafted. What the hell did he have to be upset about? He crossed his arms over his still shirtless chest, glaring at you. 

“Why is it so hard for you to understand?” He said, fighting to keep his voice firm. “I’m done with you. We’re over. Okay? I-” 

“If you wanted to break up with me, you could have just done it.” You told him, sadness gripping at your throat. “Why the hell are you being so mean? Do you want me to hate you or something?” 

‘Yes.’ A voice chanted in his mind. ‘Yes - fucking hate me. Stay the hell away from me. Keep yourself safe.’ 

He shrugged, his eyes avoiding you suddenly. 

When he went for too long without speaking, an obvious question popped up in your mind. 

“How - how long has this been going on for?” You asked. 

You wondered if that was why he had been acting so strange lately - dodging your calls, avoiding any attempt you made to see him. Had he been spending that time with Erica instead? 

“What? Me and Erica?” He posed, gesturing vaguely toward the door where she had disappeared. 

He grinned. You had unintentionally given him the perfect wedge - the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Something that would make sure you steered clear of him for a long time, something that would make sure you made absolutely no attempt to be ‘amicable’ or be friends with him after this break-up. 

“A few weeks.” He shrugged. “Around the time I started getting bored with you.” 

You let out a sob. 

“You’re lying.” You wept. You wanted it to be a lie, but in those moments - you couldn’t have picked out the truth if someone smacked you with it. 

“Did you ever consider that I never loved you in the first place?” Isaac posed, sounding oddly menacing and steady in his declaration. “That you were just a placeholder for me until I found something better?” 

“No, that’s not true.” You cried, your voice becoming more wet with tears by the second. “Isaac, why are you lying? Is something wrong? Please-” 

“You’re what’s wrong!” He argued, raising his tone, hoping to piss you off, make you flee. “You’re just a… a dumb girl, okay? You’re not the only one who wants me, there are dozens more like you! I don’t need you now, and I never did.” 

You were used to pushing back with him. Pushing to get what you wanted. With the intense emotional chaos, you weren’t sure what else to do. 

“Please, just tell me-” 

You kept pushing, trying to get close to him - the moment your soothing hands crept into his space, he panicked and shoved you back, nearly knocking you clean off your feet with a strength he hadn’t yet learned how to control. The rush of terror and shock on your face was all he needed to remember why he was doing this - why it was important. 

“We’re done here.” He told you, entirely cold. “I never loved you, I just used you, and-” He hesitated before he said the next part, hating that it had to be done. “I hope you find someone who deserves an ugly whore like you.” 

It didn’t feel like the truth - but it still cut you like a knife. 

It made you more determined to figure out why he was lying. But in those moments, you had absolutely no fight left in you. You couldn’t stand there and pry, and pry, and pry in order to figure it out. So, against your better judgment, with nothing else left to do - he got his wish. 

You fled, tears ripe in your eyes. 

And from there on out, any attempts you made to talk to Scott, Stiles, or Lydia about the incident were successfully dodged, and when Allison’s mother died, you didn’t feel right putting the weight of your shitty break-up on top of her problems. So eventually - you just gave up on finding out about the truth. And you settled on trying to become friends with Issac - which he also dodged. 

And ultimately - you found yourself so achingly alone. 

… 

Eventually, you had let it go. 

You chalked everything - all of Isaac’s weird behavior, his avoidance of you - up to the fact that he had been cheating on you. You hated that your first love had done something like that to you. It was only made worse by the fact that you didn’t have any of your friends to lean on after you found out about it, but you moved on. You ended up throwing yourself into your school work to try and distract yourself from all the intense emotions, so now your grades were soaring and you were an A student, so at least one good thing came out of the mess. 

You tried not to focus on the bad memories now that Isaac was in front of you, clearly wounded and fleeing from something. Even if it was just as a friend, he needed your help now. You were still a human being, and you couldn’t deny him of that. He didn’t have any other family - he didn’t have anywhere else to go. So you grabbed the blanket - a large, fuzzy one that you had been using, and brought it across the room toward him. 

Then, as you took in the sight of his soaking wet clothes once again, his slightly purpling lips and the way he was shivering from the cold, you realized something. 

“Take your clothes off.” You told him. 

“What?” He gaped at you, clearly shocked by this demand. 

“Come on, clothes off.” You repeated your words. “You’re never gonna get warm if you’re wearing soaking wet, freezing clothes.” He hesitated still, and you added on. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” 

It was true. Not only did the two of you lose your virginities to each other, but the two of you had a very active sex life during your two year long relationship. (It was one of the reasons why his cheating shocked you most. You thought that you had been more than enough for him.) You had to remind yourself not to think about that. You wouldn’t let yourself get angry at him. Not now. You had to be mature. 

Isaac nodded, and then kicked off his shoes, which were wet enough for the soles to loudly squish. You weren’t sure if you should advert your eyes as he peeled off his white shirt, the wet fabric sticking to his skin in a way that seemed far too sexual for the moment. It felt too intimate, letting yourself stare at his soft glistening skin, but you almost couldn’t look away. 

Sure, you had seen Isaac naked plenty of times before - but this Isaac felt entirely different than the one you were used to. He used to be more scrawny. He used to be much more on the leaner side, and now he was muscled, thick, glorious. You had no clue that taking up some god-like workout plan had been one of the things he’d done during the time since his father’s death, but fuck - he looked gorgeous. 

You scorned yourself for staring while he worked open his pants, his fingers still shaking from the cold, driving home his vulnerability all the more, driving a tinge of shame into you. And oh god, the fabric of his gray boxers were wet, sticking to the distinct outline of his thick soft cock- 

By the time he got his pants off and around his ankles, you didn’t wait to see if he would shed the underwear before you moved towards him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, partially for modesty and partially to start warming him up. 

“Better?” You asked, rubbing his shoulders through the fabric instinctively, hoping to get some blood circulating through his extremities. 

“Yeah, better.” He easily agreed, his voice coming out less shaky, his lips shivering less now. “Thank you, Y/N. Genuinely. You didn’t have to do any of this for me. I know you don’t owe me anything after-” 

He abruptly cut himself off, unable to make himself say the words, and you hated the clench in your chest as you thought about it. He was right, you didn’t owe him anything. Anybody else would have slammed the door in his face. Anybody else would have laughed at his misfortune. So why the hell were you doing this? 

You still loved him. 

That became all the more apparent to you as you stood there, close to him, holding the broadness of his shoulders under your hands, remembering what it was like to hug him, to be held by him, to kiss him every single day. Staring at his angelic face, having those sweet blue eyes gaze back at you, something in them still so sweet and affectionate towards you. 

He still looked at you the way he used to. Maybe you were delusional. But you thought it was still there. The love he claimed he never had for you, still lingering there. 

It grappled at something deep in your chest and pulled, tempting you to lean in and sink home, pressing yourself against his lips. 

But no - you couldn’t. 

You had to shake yourself back to reality. You had to remind yourself what he had done. He had hurt you, badly. You couldn’t let yourself be pulled in again by a stupid pretty face. 

“I should put your clothes in the dryer.” You said suddenly, breaking a tense silence that had otherwise only been filled by the sound of rain pouring down outside. 

That’s what you needed to do - go to the laundry room downstairs, get far away from him. You needed more than a few minutes to distance yourself and clear your head. 

You rushed to get away from him, leaning down and picking up his soaking wet clothes, the fabric chilly against your hands. 

“Don’t.” Isaac croaked out, barely above a whisper, surprising you entirely. 

You both knew that he wasn’t protesting having dry clothes - he was stopping you from leaving. He was trying to chase the tension that you were desperate to get away from. 

You felt betrayed. 

In your mind, you were the only one truly at risk of getting hurt by this. You had no idea how deeply he had missed you over the months, how many times he had resisted the urge to rush back into your arms. How many nights he spent plagued by nightmares with horrid visions of your dead body - how real it all was to him. 

“Isaac-” You tried to form a protest, but then you saw a flourish of movement out of the corner of your eye, and a flash of pale skin. 

It was enough to shock you and catch your attention, and your head whipped around to see that Isaac had dropped the blanket entirely, letting it pool around his ankles. Clearly, he knew that you had been admiring his body before and he was trying to use that to his advantage now. He knew that he was a smooth, beautiful, muscled, Adonis-like figure and he was trying to lure you in with that visual appeal. 

You were determined not to let it work. 

“Isaac, you must be freezing, you-” 

You were going to continue on - going to tell him about how he needed dry clothes and how you should attend to getting that done, and how he should put the blanket on and cover up while you were gone. But he cut off your words when he crossed the room toward you, gently cupping both sides of your face with his freezing hands. 

It was an icy shock that caused you to drop his wet clothes onto the floor once again. You reached up in an attempt to tear his touch away, but instinct took over - the second your hands were on top of his, your body flexed with gentleness. You found yourself leaning in, covering his hands with your own, unconsciously trying to warm him yet again. 

Caring for him was a muscle that had been well formed in your body, exercised often. It was difficult to ignore now. 

“Then warm me up.” He choked out, tears dancing in his eyes as he stared at you so steadily, unwavering. “Warm me up, please.” 

He begged you, clearly seeking more than a blanket, more than dry clothes, more than a warm bed. He was seeking the warmth that you had thrust onto him so many times that he had fought off before - your kindness. Your love. The thing rattling around inside of you that you shouldn’t even feel for him anymore. 

“Please,” He choked out. “I haven’t felt warm in so long.” 

The desperation curling in his voice was truly what got you - the gloss of sadness in his eyes, the way he looked so kicked and alone. It was something you had seen from him dozens of times before, when he had knocked on your bedroom window at three in the morning after having a bad night with his father - bruised, broken, looking for comfort that you would have to fight with him to accept. 

Everything else flew out of your mind then. It was an instinct - to hold him. It was an instinct to grab him up in your arms and make a home for him there. Your heart so easily forgot about all the pain he had made for you, because you were so used to pushing pain aside for him in the name of comfort. 

“Isaac,” You said his name gently again, this time reaching up and letting yourself give into the pull - your mouth drifting toward his and finally sealing into that deadly kiss. 

You couldn’t contain the moan that spilled out of you the second that you felt the smoothness of his lips against yours for the first time in so long. You hated how he still felt so good - how he still felt like home. 

His arms rushed to wrap around your torso in the most utterly possessive way - not just a hug, not just seeking comfort, affection, or warmth - but holding you in a way that said he had truly missed you. Holding you as tightly as he could, pressing your whole body against his, encasing himself around you as though trying to protect you from the world with his flesh alone. Your hands went to his hair, rabid and frantic as you tightly gripped onto the curly locks - holding him in place as you melted your mouth against his, your kisses quickly turning from smooth and sweet to downright frantic. 

You never thought that you would have this back again, that you would have him back, and you couldn’t help but to enjoy it now. The press of his body against yours, so thick and muscled now, quickly warming up, so different but still so Isaac. The gentle whimpers he released into your mouth, something so familiar - his sweetness coming through, as much as you tried to deny it. Within moments, it unlocked an intense need within you. It made you realize how terribly long it had been since the last time you had cum. 

If he was determined for you to make him warm, then you would get something out of it too. If you were going to make a stupid mistake, then you were going to make it right. (Or make it terribly wrong - you weren’t sure which it was yet.) 

You pulled away from his lips and he let out a disappointed whine, and while you panted, out of breath against his chin, you began pushing him, shuffling back toward your bedroom, hoping he would get the hint and understand. Which he didn’t, his whole body numb and dumb with lust, still tightly holding onto you, almost fighting against your movements. 

“Bed.” You huffed at him. “Bed, Isaac, go-” 

He let out a grunt of understanding, but then he moved a hand to the back of your head, pulling you into another kiss. You dug your nails into his shoulders, about to push him away, but you unconsciously melted into the movement, letting out another moan. Between the two of you, the path to your bedroom was stumbling and messy, and took far longer than it needed to be - heated mouths tonguing against each other, neither of you actually looking as you got lost in the kisses, frantically pawing at each other. 

When his hand found the hem of your cotton sleep shirt, part of you blinked in protest, slightly hesitant. But still, you found yourself pulling away from his lips for a single moment and then the item was gone, shed and ditched on the floor. This revealed you completely to him, braless. 

Of course, he had seen you naked before too. Plenty of times. But still, you felt a stitch of regret that you hadn’t used the time since the break-up to get some kind of ‘revenge body’. You hadn’t been religiously hitting the gym as apparently he had been. Instead, you had been obsessively hitting the books and spending nights alone with junk food, and-

“God, you are so much more beautiful than I remembered.” He breathed out, the words so utterly passionate and sacred on his lips. 

Your stomach clenched at this. You felt yourself being involuntarily swallowed up by your affection for him again. Drowning in a love for him that you had long since locked away deep somewhere, trying to smother it out until it died. Apparently you had been unsuccessful in that. 

Isaac only made it worse when he dove in for another kiss, smothering your lips with heat again as he ran his hands, now much warmer, over your body - up your stomach, gently tracing the stretch marks there as though he appreciated each one. His hands coming to cup your breasts and oh-so-lightly flicking at your nipples, teasing them as he tongued along your teeth. 

You could barely handle it - the gentle treatment, the way it made your pussy flutter and leak wetness into your panties. You knew all too soon, you would be entirely weak to him. If you weren’t careful, you would let him do anything he wanted to you. 

You continued to back him up, your hand going to the doorknob of your bedroom and finally, successfully pushing him inside. You pushed him back until his knees met the bed and then you brought two hands to his chest, shoving him out of the kiss and tossing him back onto the bed - this caused him to make a startled noise as he fell back onto your neatly made covers and collection of fluffy pillows. 

And then, he looked up at you with an utterly cocky smirk - strangely, one that only made you want to fuck him even more. 

“Come on, c’mere-” He encouraged you, full of breath, holding out his hands to you. 

You felt a rush of lust-fueled bravery and you tucked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and underwear all at once, shoving them down over your hips, pushing out any last bits of insecurity that you felt. 

You waited for Isaac to follow your lead and strip out of his last remaining bit of clothing. Instead, he sat there, sprawled out on the bed, leaning on his elbows, looking at you in the low lighting (the streetlamps coming in through the window with the sound of rain still pouring, pounding against the glass) - his jaw dropped and his eyes wide, looking at you with a unique kind of awe that you hadn’t seen on his face before. Not even the first time he had seen you naked and he had given you that ‘teenage boy seeing tits for the first time’ look. 

It was like he was well and truly seeing you for the first time - like the distance had made him appreciate you so much more. It made you feel so much more naked, and gave you the urge to cover yourself. 

Just as you were about to, he spoke again. 

“You are so utterly gorgeous.” He told you, his voice full of that epic passion that made your insides quake. “So fucking perfect. Fuck.” 

“Isaac-” You squeaked out his name, entirely unsure of what else to say. 

He pushed himself up, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you forward until you stumbled and tripped, landing on the bed between his thighs. You let out a breathy gasp as he began kissing down your neck - smoothly, softly, seemingly intent to appreciate you now that he had you here. It brought more of those dangerously warm feelings washing up - it made you feel soft and sappy inside, made you miss the days when you called Isaac your boyfriend. Days when the two of you used to lay on the couch together and cuddle, when you held hands in the hallways, when you would tell each other everything. 

It was a dangerous feeling to have now. 

One of his hands pulled on your thigh and you understood his unconscious wish - moving your legs to straddle around his waist as he began sucking a spot on the base of your neck, a tender bit of skin he knew was a weakness he could exploit. This sent warm waves of pleasure through you while he squeezed both hands across your ass, bringing you to sit down fully on his still clothed crotch. It sent a shockwave through you - feeling his hard, clothed cock pressing right up against your hot, naked pussy - it made you intensely needy, caused you to unconsciously grind down on him and let out a high, needy moan. 

“Isaac, please,” 

You knew that you were hovering in a dangerous place. All of this was settling you back into familiarity - if you weren’t careful, you would set yourself up for hurt all over again. You were letting him pry you open, inviting him to tear through your heart all over again, and then - what would be left for you? 

No - you needed mindless sex. You needed to fuck him, for closure. And then you needed to put him out of your life completely. 

You leaned over to the nightstand, unlatching him from your neck in the process. You tried your hardest to ignore the sweet kisses he peppered along your shoulder as you dug through the drawer for a condom, checking to make sure it wasn’t expired (because woefully, he had been the last person you had used this pack with) before you came back with it in hand. 

When Isaac saw you bring it to your teeth with the clear intentions of ripping it open, it began to protest. 

“Woah, Y/N, wait-” He rushed out the words, and you glared at him. 

“‘Wait’, what? I thought this is what you wanted.” 

The words came off your tongue much crueler than you intended - a result of you being harshly at odds with yourself. You were trying desperately not to stumble back into being that foolish girl who loved him too much. Trying to get over your feelings for him, to prove to yourself that you could be as emotionally detached as he was on that day. 

He swallowed thickly, looking at you with those godforsaken puppy eyes. Those eyes that had drawn you in so many times before. 

“I just-” 

‘I wanted to kiss over every inch of your body. I wanted it to be slow. I wanted to make love to you. I wanted to prove to you how much I missed you, how huge of a mistake I made.’ 

“Nothing.” Isaac choked out - and then, surprisingly, he snatched the condom from you. 

In one smooth move, he captured your mouth with his again, wrapping his arms around your back and flipping you so that you were underneath him. It was a strong, powerful move that had you whimpering into his mouth, feeling utterly pathetic in his shadow as your cunt leaked more needy wetness against his boxers. You hated that you unconsciously leaned into his touches, desperate for more. 

When he pulled away from the kiss, you looked on breathlessly as he shoved down his underwear and kicked them off, causing his impressive cock to spring free and smack against his stomach. Something you stared at like a beacon, your pussy clenching hungrily around nothing while he tore open the condom and rolled it on. 

He then took the base of his cock in hand, putting the other hand on the bed beside you to prop himself up while he teased the tip of his cock along your folds, parting your pussy as he teased inside - lightly bumping your clit in a way that drove you insane. 

“Ready?” He asked, his voice breathy and full of need, something you had so dearly missed hearing from him. 

“Hurry up,” You egged him on, partly due to impatience from the teasing, wound up by the nagging feeling of the thick cockhead prodding against your throbbing cunt - and partly because you were eager to get this over with. You were eager to prove to yourself that you could do this and feel nothing inside. That ultimately, you were over him. 

He grinned, all teeth, almost evil, and he let out a sharp breath. Then, finally, pushed forward, shoving his cock inside of you all at once - one smooth push that had his hips shoving right up against yours, his coarse pubic hairs brushing against the sensitive, swollen lips of your pussy. 

You let out a throaty moan as you felt the full stretch of his cock so abruptly - a slight sting as your inner muscles struggled to become accustomed to him after going for so long without. Sure, you had masturbated, struggling to get past the sexual frustration while being single. And you really hadn’t wanted to resort to calling on any of your random male classmates for a ‘no strings attached’ fuck because you didn’t want to deal with the social interaction or the potential rumors. 

And really, your fingers were nothing compared to the stretch of Isaac’s magnificent, thick cock. 

Isaac saw the shock on your face as you felt just how big he was, as your body ached to remember it and you felt so fucking full again. He felt a wave of cocky pride flow through him as you clenched down on him, truly feeling every single inch. 

“You asked for it,” He told you firmly, the confidence in his voice sending waves of pleasure through you - he had never been so outright cocky before. And you were turned on even more, even wetter when he added on a quiet, sharp whisper of: “Fuck, I missed this.” 

But it was a bitter, double edged sword. As much as it turned you on to hear that hushed whisper coming off his lips, it only reminded you that the two of you had been parted. That he had done something cruel to you in order for that parting to happen - that his stupid decisions were the reason that you had been forced to miss him. 

“Don’t.” You said sharply, raising your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails in as a type of warning, hoping that he would simply shut up and fuck you - mindless and hard, just like you needed. That he would make you cum, and then he could sleep on the couch for the night before finding other arrangements. 

He gave you a smirk - one that said he had found the perfect button to push, and rather than turning away from it, he was going to slam on it until he broke you. 

“What?” He said, all breath, all need - that tone that made your pussy absolutely flutter. “You don’t want me talking about how much I missed this pussy?” 

“Isaac-” You said his name in a warning tone, digging your nails into him again, but your words were cut off by him pressing his pelvis into you, angling sharply against you in a way that put pressure against your clit. Like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he had picked up the skill with someone else-

Erica. Of course. It only served to piss you off more, and you moved to shove him off you. 

But he began moving his hips, then - his knees poised against the mattress, using it for leverage as he began fucking you. It was a sensation you hadn’t realized you had missed so much - the smooth, wet slide of his cock in and out of you, the slight burn from him fucking you so harshly, unstretched - the pure need pulsing through you, the feeling of being so full. 

Your little gasp was quickly drowned out when he began talking again. 

“I’m not allowed to tell you how much I missed this feeling, huh?” 

Isaac grunted, his voice only wavering slightly from the effort as he sped up, slamming his hips into you harder, rougher - quickly filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin, easily making your pussy lips glow with a beautiful kind of pain that only made it feel so much better. 

“You don’t wanna hear about how much I missed this tight little cunt squeezing my cock?” 

He had never been like this with you before. 

Every single time the two of you had been in bed together, it had always been slow, sweet. The Isaac you knew before always made love to you. He was always so shy and loving. This was a side of him that you had never seen before, and if your mind wasn’t slowly melting between your ears from the pure pleasure, then you would have had the room to be shy about how much wetter you were getting around his cock, how much sloppier the sounds were becoming as he drilled into you even harder.  

“Sh-” You squeaked out, the potential words that you had wanted to be ‘shut up’ easily drowned out by a pathetic moan. He chased more noises out of you when he reached down and thumbed across your clit - just a light tease, but enough to send shocks curling across your spine, enough to have you curling against the bed and squeezing his cock in that way he loved so much. 

“What was that?” He mocked you, the tone of his voice a cocky imitation of the sweet way he used to talk to you, condescending in a way you should have hated. 

It was definitely not something that should have made your head float and not something that should have brought even more heat to your face. Clearly, he sensed it from a mile away, saw it written all over your face - saw another button to push, and kept on going. 

This was a game to him now. And regrettably, he was winning. 

“Aww, baby, you wanna hear more? You wanna hear more about how much I missed your sweet little pussy?” 

You choked on your own breath trying to protest against him, hating how perfectly his words got to you. And now, even your hands were numb and limp and you couldn’t claw at him as your own kind of petty revenge. You could barely even hang on as he continued pounding into you roughly, shoving you across the bed, making the headboard shake. 

All you could do was choke on your own spit and take the blurring pleasure of his thick cock slamming into you while he leaned down to purr his next filthy words into your ear. 

“You know, nothing can compare to the feeling of this sweet pussy gripping my cock,” He said, putting cruel emphasis on these words, causing your heart to bitterly ache in your chest. 

Was he mocking you on purpose? Was this his way of asking for forgiveness, saying that he regretted what he had done? 

It was something you couldn’t discern now - not with your brain so thoroughly melted by his cock. 

You let out a whimper in return, the sadness mixing strangely with the pleasure he was fucking into your throbbing pussy. 

“Nothing is better than the feeling of your soft, gorgeous body underneath me.” He added on, running his hands up your hips and to your breasts for emphasis. “Nothing is better than cumming while your pretty eyes look up at me, Y/N, you-” 

Something inside of you snapped. 

Perhaps it was because he was saying all of the right things, drifting back into that sweet man that you had fallen in love with. Inadvertently triggering all of that affection inside of you again, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

You reached up and slapped him broadly across the face. 

It was a very weak hit from your pleasure-numb hand, barely enough to make him flinch, but it was certainly enough to get his attention. 

In response, in a fraction of a moment, he paused his rough movements, completely still his hips from fucking you, and grabbed both of your wrists, pinning you down to the bed with the impressive strength of his newly worked muscles. He shoved his cock deep inside of you, settling it there, pressing his hips tightly against yours in an almost spiteful way. 

This created the battling sensations of your orgasm curling up in your stomach, already so close, and the fiery anger you had for him, along with the love for him that you didn’t want to release caged up inside of you. It was almost too much, too overwhelming while you stared into his eyes, trying desperately to read the stiff expression he wore. 

“Why are you doing this?” You demanded sharply. 

You desperately wanted to know what he wanted out of this. He had begged you for warmth, for the touch of another body against his - but clearly, this was about so much more. 

Did he want forgiveness? Did he genuinely want to work on the relationship because he had missed you? Did he see what he had done as a mistake? 

Did he want to simply rub all of it in your face? Did he want the bragging rights of having cheated on you and the ability to come back and fuck you whenever he wanted just to lord it all over you? To know that he could screw you over and still screw you? 

He leaned in closer to your face, and you were praying that he would give you a definitive answer. 

“You let me in.” He told you gruffly, his eyes dark. 

You both knew that this had a dangerous double meaning. You had dared to let him in the front door when he knocked. You had let him into your life when he had told you over and over again that he was simply ‘poison’, that it would end in pain for the both of you. Had he been right about that, after all? You knew that he had more trauma than you could reasonably comprehend, but you didn’t know that heinous self sabotage was his number one reason for ruined relationships. 

When would fighting for him no longer be viable? 

Before you could puzzle it all out, he began fucking into you harshly once again. 

“Fuck you,” You squeaked out, breathless - it wasn’t clever, but it was all you could come up with. 

Your mind was useless while his cock was turning your brain to mince meat once again, making your pussy delightfully sore and unfortunately, quickly bringing your orgasm to life in your belly with rapidly hotter waves of pleasure that he was forcing through your body. 

“You - you can’t tell me that you didn’t miss t-this,” He grunted out. 

He pressed his hips tightly to yours and grinded in deep, angling his hips in that skilled way once again that put pressure on your clit. He knew how to perfectly trap that swollen bead between your two bodies, slowly torturing you with rapid little shocks while he drove home just how full he made you feel with each stroke of his hips. 

At this point, even though you were dizzy and desperate to cum, you were also sick of his self righteous attitude - still looking to deny him. 

“I - I didn’t,” You choked out in reply, your body more than betraying your lie. 

Your muscles seized toward him and you struggled against the hold he still had on your wrists, unconsciously fucking your hips against him. You needed more friction on your clit, needing just a bit more before you could cum. 

Isaac stopped. 

He completely stilled himself, making your orgasm cold and stale, ebbing off inside of you. Tears leaked thick and bold from your eyes - partially from the denial, and partially from all of the cruel emotions battling inside of you. 

You had missed Isaac. You hated lying - but you hated what he had done to you so much more. 

You let out a choked off wail, continuing to struggle underneath his impossible strength. 

“You’re lying.” He growled in your ear, a sharp sound that sent shivers down your spine. 

It was a truth that pierced through you, utterly revealing. Perhaps you were raw from the state of being, from being open on his cock and so desperate to cum, but you knew that he could absolutely see your truth. 

You had no clue that he could literally smell it on you - your defiance, your lies, your arousal. The love you were holding back that he was absolutely rabid and starving for. 

It was a hunger that he had felt for months - one he had tried to fill by having mindless sex with Erica, by blindly running forward on the search for her and Boyd, by running headfirst into stupid fights with the opposing pack that had nearly gotten him killed. He had tried so damn hard to dull that impossible hunger with the pain of claws and hits smashing against his skin. 

But it was something that could only be satisfied by you. 

So he had come crawling back to you, lapping at your door like a kicked puppy - a powerful wolf like himself begging you, a human, for something only you could give him. That love that would fill all the holes inside of him that he claimed were never there in the first place - all those empty spaces he so desperately tried to ignore. 

“Isaac-” You breathed out again, further reminding him of just how hollow he felt when the sound of his name coming off your lips echoed off all that empty space inside of him. 

“Tell me you didn’t miss me.” He choked out in return, tears of his own blooming in his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t miss me and I’ll stop.” 

“Isaac,” You let out his name as sob, your pussy clenching tightly around him. Both of you knew that you couldn’t - you could muster this up now. 

Maybe it was a trap he had perfectly set - maybe it was something Derek had accidentally taught him. Trap the vulnerable, make them depend on you, and they can never leave you. Build a home out of glass walls and you’ll be happy for a while. 

“Tell me.” Isaac wept. “Or I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” 

He said, his voice shaking - it wasn’t a threat. To him it was a golden promise. He was a starving dog, and if you did this now, if you truly showed him that you had nothing left to give, then he would disappear off into the woods - he would starve to death or he would learn to get his food somewhere else from now on. 

“Tell me honestly that you didn’t miss me and you’ll never see me again, Y/N, I swear.” 

It was a sacred promise on his breath, barely a whisper on his lips as he tightly gripped your wrists once again, sending slight pain shooting through you, assuring you of his desperation. 

In those moments, all you could summon was the truth. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about his motives - the sheer pain in his warbling voice only did what it had always done to you before. It made you want to care for him more. It made you honest in that caring as you always had been. 

“I missed you.” You choked out, and took a deep shuddering breath, finding the courage to say it louder, more firmly. “I missed you, Isaac. Okay? I missed you! I missed you, I-” 

Your repetition of the declaration was cut off - he couldn’t help it. 

He sealed his mouth to yours in a messy, passionate kiss, his tearful cheeks clashing against your own as his hands slid up to link with yours, his fingers tangling with yours in an utterly needy way. You couldn’t help but to grip him tightly back, your fingers almost painful from how hard you did this. 

Your chest exploded with everything you had been denying - the love and affection and longing you had locked away for months, those feelings that you had damned and cursed over and over again. 

Instinctively, he began moving his hips again, fucking into you deeply. This felt more like making love - it was slower and so fucking deep, as though he was trying desperately to get as close to you as possible, trying to climb inside and find the essence of your very soul. 

You thrashed against him in response, so overwhelmed. You wailed and wept into his mouth, entirely overcome with your horrible clash of emotions. 

It was a perfect storm for one of the best orgasms of your life. 

His pelvis grinding against your clit, the relief of finally having him back, finally having told him how much you missed him, feeling his tears against your cheek and knowing that he had missed you too - finally having everything you had secretly been dreaming about, yearning for. 

Your body couldn’t help but to sing with joy over these realizations, fucking yourself against him and bowing into an utterly epic release as all your emotions crashed over you. It forced you away from the kiss to cry out brokenly against his mouth while you squeezed his fingers numbly as the sensations rocked your body. 

“Isaac, Isaac-” You chanted his name, entirely overwhelmed. 

“I know, I know,” He gurgled back, continuing to fuck you, chasing his own release now. “Fuck, Y/N. I know. Fuck, I missed you-” 

His voice broke down into a whimper as he finally came, pumping his hips a few more times before he finally planted himself against you and emptied his cum into the condom. (In the back of his mind, having a passing thought about how he hated it being there, how he wished he could feel you raw). 

That was when you saw it - a flash of bright yellow, a literal glow in the dimly lit room that was absolutely unmistakable. The only other time you had seen anything like it was when Scott had transformed in front of you to save your life. In a single moment, everything came to you in a crashing realization while your orgasm was still echoing through your body-

The newfound seemingly epic strength, the muscles, the way he had been acting so strange after his father’s death, his eagerness to get distance from you. He had been bitten and transformed into a fucking werewolf. He had been one this whole time. Wait, how long-? 

He captured your lips once again while he continued to enjoy the feeling of your hands tangling with his own, the feeling of you warm and wet, nestled around his cock - the feeling of finally being home. After a too-short moment, you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, puffing wildly against his chin while your nose brushed his flushed cheek. 

The realization was still crashing over you. 

How long had he been lying to you? Did he lie to you to protect you? Did he think that you knew nothing? Did he think that you were in danger because your mother had been killed? Were you in danger? 

You wanted so badly to bring it up, to ask him more questions, but instead, you basked in the silence - the sound of his slowing breaths, the last bit of enjoyment you could get from the fullness as his cock softened inside of you. Which reminded you-

“Isaac, you - you have to throw away the condom.” You whispered, terrified to break up the moment. 

“Oh. Yeah.” He said, clearly bitter at the idea of being distanced from you, but knowing that it was just the reality of things - that the two of you would have to part eventually. 

He finally released your hands, which were now slightly numb and painful from being in the same position for so long, and from being gripped so harshly by him, tingling with blood in that ugly sharp way. You couldn’t bring yourself to truly mind it. 

When he pulled his cock out of you, you whined from the soreness and your own hesitation at parting, and he kissed a silent apology into the top of your breast as he took off the condom and tossed into a wastebasket that was at your bedside - your room well memorized by him and still so unchanged since he had last been in here. 

In fact, he had helped you move in and had done a lot of unpacking with you when you had made the transition after your mother’s death. He felt so comfortable in this room. More than he ever had at ‘home’ with his father. 

You scooted off the bed, your body already protesting with soreness, and you moved to the doorway, intending to go to the bathroom. You needed a moment to yourself to comprehend everything and also, you needed to clean up. 

You paused in the doorway, feeling Isaac’s eyes heavy on your back. You picked up one of your shirts that had landed on the floor beside the laundry hamper - one you had been wearing just the night before. It was a black shirt with the Jigsaw spiral on it. In a sense, it reminded you of him - willing to take a lot of pain and suffer in silence, sacrifice a lot for the ones he loved. 

You picked up the shirt and tossed it at him, causing it to land awkwardly on his head. 

“Get dressed.” You told him quietly. “I don’t think my sister will be a huge fan of some naked guy sleeping in my bed when she comes home.” 

It was your not-so-subtle way of telling him that he would be spending the night, and definitively staying in your bed. 

“What am I now - your whore?” He joked, letting out a small nervous laugh as he peeled the fabric off his face. 

This was his not-so-subtle way of asking what the relationship meant to you now - posed as a joke. Did he get the precious title of being your boyfriend again? Even after all he had done? 

You shrugged. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” You told him - another insinuation. You would be back to have that grand talk. “You should get some pants. They’re in-” 

“-in the bottom drawer.” Isaac finished off the sentence easily. “I remember.” 

Of course. 

You left the room then, and Isaac watched your back until you were gone from view. He picked up the shirt you had given him and lifted it to his nose, taking in a greedy whiff of your scent - and his heart ached as he thought about all he had put you through. But he also felt like telling you the truth wouldn’t have been much better. 

…

“You’re sure that you wanna do this?” Erica posed, stepping into the locker room with Isaac. 

She was going along with his plan simply because she wanted the petty thrill of stealing someone else’s boyfriend - even if it wasn’t entirely real. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Isaac told her, checking the clock again, counting down the moments until his relationship with you would be over. “I need her to hate me.” 

Erica hummed in affirmation and nodded, and then kicked off her shoes and stripped off her jacket. When she went for the zipper on the front of her top, Isaac flinched and put up his hands in protest. He didn’t want to actually cheat on you - he thought he had made that part very clear when posing the plan to Erica. He didn’t want to actually have sex with her (no matter how much she suggested it). 

“Woah - what’re you doing?” He gaped, and she rolled her eyes at him. 

“Making it look real, dumbass.” She told him, unzipping her top and tossing it aside without care. “You don’t have to fuck me, but make it look like you were going to, at least. Make it believable.” 

His insides churned with guilt… but - she had a point. 

“You said you want her to hate you. So make her hate you.” Erica added on with a smirk. She was enjoying this far too much. 

“Fine, fine, yeah.” Isaac agreed, and then he thought of something. “Do you have the uh-?” He motioned to her mouth, to the bright red lipstick that she was wearing. “The one that you have on?” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

She reached to the back pocket of her jeans, took out the lipstick tube and handed it to Isaac. He uncapped it and - much to her horror - stuck his fingers all over it to begin smearing it across his cheeks and then his chest. Staging the scene to make it look like she had been kissing him. 

“Gross!” She complained, snatching it back from him. “You - ugh!” 

She inspected the top of the lipstick for a moment before deciding that Isaac had ruined it entirely - so she sighed and tossed it into a nearby trash can. 

She wanted to complain further about it, but instead - she got petty. 

“Okay, you want real?” 

Before he could predict what she meant by this, she reared her claws and dug large scratch marks into his back, wicked stinging and painful - marks that wouldn’t heal for at least a few hours due to his Beta status. 

“Dammit!” He cried out in protest. 

He turned and looked in the mirror then - out of context, the marks would look oddly sexual. 

She grinned at him. “You’re welcome.” 

“You are such a bitch.” He sighed in defeat. 

“Takes one to know one, sweetie.” 

Before he could come up with a clever reply, they both heard you coming down the mostly secluded hallway, able to notice you from far off due to their enhanced hearing. 

You were humming brightly to yourself. You were so happy. 

Isaac churned with regret already, but he knew he couldn’t turn back now. 

“Showtime.” Erica grinned, and pinned him up against one of the lockers, kissing him fiercely. 

… 

That had easily been one of the worst days of his life. But he had felt entirely validated when he had witnessed Gerard attempt to use the Kanima to kill Allison - the impossible power of the large reptile tightening its tail around her throat, her own grandfather ruthless enough to want her dead without caring. Something that might have actually come to terrible fruition if Scott hadn’t thought steps ahead to outsmart him. 

You were someone so kind. You were someone who always wanted to help people, wanted to save people - and it would have gotten you killed. You would have gotten in the way, trying to help someone who couldn’t be saved, and you would have died because of it. 

Erica suggested to Isaac many times that he simply let Derek give you the Bite so that you wouldn’t be ‘weak’ anymore - so that you could fight for yourself and you could be strong alongside them. But Isaac refused to even consider it. He refused to even let Derek talk to you because he knew that you would be making the choice for the wrong reasons. You would want to be Turned to be with Isaac. You wouldn’t want it for yourself. 

And - as Derek had warned all of them - there was a small chance that the Bite could kill you. And Isaac would never let that happen to you. He wouldn’t put you in that kind of danger, not for his own selfish reasons. 

So Isaac stayed far away from you. 

He started having sex with Erica after he broke up with you - the kind of harsh, mindless sex that took his mind off you for at least a few minutes. And thankfully, Erica didn’t mind when your name slipped from his lips as he came. She said that she thought it was ‘cute’ - how in love with you he was. It was likely more okay with her because she was seeing Boyd and Stiles on the side at the time. 

Her and Isaac were never anything exclusive, never anything close to being in love. It helped him see the more human side of her. It definitely made them closer friends. And it caused it to hurt a lot more when he found out that she was dead. 

Maybe it was part of the reason why he had come back to you tonight. Because Erica thought the way he loved you was sweet. She was always pushing him to go back to you because of how hung up on you he was. She thought that he should just push all of his fears aside and be with you instead of hiding from it. 

Isaac let out a harsh huff and shoved the shirt over his head before getting up to find a pair of pants. 

… 

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt an intense chill biting at your skin from walking around the apartment naked. You couldn’t help but to find it ironic that a single shiver had started all of this. Perhaps you had given all of your warmth to Isaac. 

What the hell had happened? 

Isaac had cheated on you with Erica. Or so he wanted you to believe. Either way, he had set you up for the hurt of believing it, rather than just breaking up with you. Rather than just telling you the truth. That truth being that he had been transformed into a werewolf. 

Isaac was a werewolf. 

That was a lot to take in. 

Perhaps the most shocking part - for some fucking reason, he didn’t trust you with that information. 

The basis of it all being: he didn’t trust you. 

It made you crash with hurt and betrayal all over again. Almost worse than you had felt on the day you had walked in and seen him and Erica all over each other. 

You had to ball up some toilet paper to wipe up your tears, and you stared at yourself harshly in the mirror, wondering why. 

Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you? 

Was he afraid that you would consider him some kind of monster? Did he not know that Scott had saved your life at the school that night and since then, you considered every single werewolf to be an ally of yours in some way, rather than feeling afraid of them? Did he think that you would have shunned him as dangerous and scary because of his newfound abilities? 

Had he actually killed his father? 

You highly doubted it, seeing as he had been with you all night on the night of the murder. Even if he had been the one - you would have congratulated him for doing so. His father was a cruel bastard and you never would have judged him for finally snapping on the man. 

So why? Why? 

You finally gathered yourself enough to go back to your bedroom, and you found Isaac wearing your shirt and pair of your plaid pajama pants, leaning against the pillows, clearly waiting for you. You silently gathered some clothes of your own, and then you sat on the edge of the bed with your back turned to him. 

There was a tense moment before either of you spoke. The rain had come to a calm patter outside, making the gentleness of your voice cut through the room in a much harsher way. 

“You didn’t cheat on me with Erica.” You spoke it as a statement, rather than a question. 

You knew it to be virtually true, and you were simply waiting for him to confirm it as a fact. 

You stepped into your underwear and pulled them up, and he kept his eyes carefully on your back, trying to memorize each precious inch of you in the low lighting - as though this would be the last time he ever got to see your naked skin again. 

“How did you know?” He wondered quietly in return. 

“It’s that self destructive thing you do.” You told him. “I got you that nice watch for your sixteenth birthday, and then you ‘broke it’ running late night lacrosse drills.” 

You said, putting sarcastic emphasis on the words, not pretending to believe the lie he had told you at the time. You and Isaac both knew what had happened. 

He didn’t believe that he was worthy of nice things. He had smashed it on purpose in an emotional fit, maybe not even knowing that he was desperate to see what your reaction would be. It was an instinct to sabotage the relationship with you. 

He thought that you would scream, yell, fault him for being ‘stupid’. He thought that you would break up with him over a watch - over him not taking care of your nice gift well enough. Instead, you told him that it was okay - comforted him about. And a week later, you replaced it with a slightly cheaper version that he still had. 

“After the first time I told you that I loved you, you got into that huge bloody fist-fight with Greenberg because you said that you saw him staring at my ass.” You recounted. “But you’re not the jealous type.” 

Again - true. He wasn’t jealous, he had just been looking to get a reaction out of you. Again, it was a desire entirely unconscious to him - projecting all of that discomfort and annoyance onto Greenberg at the time. He felt like things were too good with you. You were too loving, too sweet - he was going to fuck it up sooner or later, and one day, he was going to make a mistake too big for you to forgive. 

He simply thought he should make that mistake and get it over with, rather than waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

You sighed and hoisted your shirt over your head, slipping your arms through the sleeves and letting the loose fabric fall down over your back before you finally turned to him. 

“The one thing I couldn’t figure out, though-” You told him carefully. “Was what I had done to evoke you cheating on me.” You said, your voice choppy and tearful once again. 

“Y/N-” He begged quietly, reaching across the bed toward your hand, which you quickly snatched away. 

He didn’t want you to think that his vile nature was ever your fault. 

“I finally get it, though.” You added on sharply. “You could have just told me, Isaac.” 

His chest jumped with anxiety. How did you know? You couldn’t possibly know that-

“Your eyes were glowing yellow earlier.”

Isaac sighed in defeat and slumped back against the bed. 

“How do you know?” He asked, curious about how you knew about the existence of werewolves in the first place. 

“Scott.” You said simply. 

“Scott.” He echoed back dully. Of course. 

Isaac ground his palms into his forehead, exhausted by the fact that you had found out about something he had been trying to protect you from. That he had put you through so much unnecessary pain. 

“I was trying to protect you.” He said quietly. “I didn’t want you getting hurt, I wanted you as far away from me as possible-” 

“Protect me from what?” You cried out, entirely exasperated with him. 

If there was truly some source of danger, you wanted him to tell you about it. 

But of course, that wasn’t what he meant. 

“Me.” 

He finally admitted it, the thing the two of you had been dancing around for the entirety of your relationship. 

“I’m not good for you, Y/N.” Isaac added on, his throat tight with tears once again. “You need to stay away from me, you-” 

“So you pretended to cheat on me?” You bit back sharply. 

There it was again - the stupidity of his own regret that stung him so much. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” He replied, sounding bitterly regretful rather than any kind of smut. 

“Yet we’re still right back here.” You sighed in return. 

“Like I said - I didn’t know where else to go.” 

He felt a unique guilt in running to you. But as much as he tried to deny it, you were his safe place. You were the only one he could turn to when his world was crashing down. He had done the same thing too many times when his father had been alive, so the habit was far too ingrained into him. 

Rather than reminding him why you gave him that safety, driving it home, you asked a different question that had been burning at you. 

“Where have you been staying since your father died?” You asked. 

Isaac hesitated heavily at this. He didn’t want to delve into the stupidity of his choices; the mistakes that had led him up to this point. 

You waited patiently in his silence. 

You began to busy yourself - stood up and began plucking certain pillows off the bed to put them aside, causing Isaac to stand up to the side to let you pull back the covers. You didn’t ask him to leave, which was as good as wordlessly inviting him to sleep there with you. It gave him a certain comfort, knowing that you weren’t entirely paying attention to him as you fluffed the bed and then sought out cream for your hands, going about a nightly routine. Knowing that he would still get to fall asleep with you after all this. 

“You know Derek Hale?” Isaac posed. 

That was a complex question for you. 

You knew him as the man who had ultimately killed the beast that had killed your mother. In your mind, that made him someone favorable. But Scott had warned you to stay away from him - had said that Derek was not the kind of person you should ever be mixing with, werewolf or not. And you trusted Scott with your life, and thus far, had absolutely no reason to interact with Derek Hale. So you had steered clear of him. 

But you weren’t sure how to form your opinions around him. 

“I know of him,” You replied. “Scott talks about him unpleasantly. Told me to stay away from him.” 

Isaac was happy that Scott had done so, but that didn’t set the stage so well for what he had to say next. 

“He - he kinda took me in after my father died.” Isaac explained, purposefully vague. 

“Oh.” You said, your aptitude of mixed feelings for Derek flowing through the air so easily with your voice saying this simple word. 

Clearly, Scott didn’t like him. He had never explained to you why, but whenever he spoke about Derek, there was always an oddly calm rage bubbling under the surface. Derek had taken Isaac in, which seemed like a kindness on the surface - but clearly, he didn’t care for Isaac. He had left him homeless in a rainstorm with nowhere else to go but to come crawling back to your doorstep in utter desperation. 

Derek sounded like an asshole. 

Again - you trusted Scott completely. And whatever reasons he had for not liking Derek… they seemed to be coming to light without an explanation needed from him. 

You put two pillows at the head of the bed, and then you crawled to sit on your side while Isaac leaned against the bench underneath your window with his arms crossed, staring at you with his jaw clenched. He knew you well enough to know what was on your mind. 

“Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds.” He told you, instinctively defensive of Derek, his pack Alpha. “He helped me out. And not just me. Boyd, and Erica-” 

“Oh.” You sighed, rolling your eyes, still feeling sensitive toward the name even though the cheating hadn’t been entirely real. “He helped Erica. Big fan of Erica.” You scoffed sarcastically - the image of her red lips all over Isaac still seared into your brain. 

“Please don’t be like that.” Isaac shook his head. “She was my friend.” 

“Was?” You questioned, now entirely caught up on the tense. 

Were they no longer friends, or-? 

“Erica is dead.” Isaac choked out, barely able to say the words. 

It was the first time he had spoken these words in a conscious state, out of the ice bath. It was the first time that he had truly come to terms with it. Even after Derek had brought her body back and he had helped him bury her under a circle of Wolfsbane, just as he had done to his sister Laura before (until the grave had been disturbed by two idiots not knowing what they were doing). 

This came as a shock to you. 

You had seen the missing posters plastered all over town - all over school, and you had heard people whispering rumors about her, none of which you believed. Things about how she ‘shacked up’ with an older man who ended up killing her and burying her body somewhere. Whispers about how she became a prostitute and probably overdosed, how she simply ran away because Beacon Hills sucked so much. 

Even if you didn’t like her at the time, you had always felt bad for her, and hoped that she was truly okay. You had always felt bad for her parents because they never had answers. 

You had no clue that she had been involved with Derek Hale and other werewolves. 

“Boyd just got back after being missing for months,” Isaac continued, his voice still saturated with mourning. “But it’s like he’s still gone. I don’t blame him, after what happened.” 

You badly wanted to ask what Isaac meant by this, but you held back. His eyes were distant, swimming with intense thought - he was off somewhere else, clearly speaking into open air things that he had been dying to get off his chest. So you were going to stay silent, giving him the space to let it all out. 

“And Derek -” 

He cut himself off abruptly, replaying the moment in his mind, wondering where it had all gone wrong. It made him sick - the sound of Derek’s booming voice, the glass smashing over his head. Isaac knew that somehow, it was all his fault. What had he done wrong? What had he done so wrong to make Derek react that way? 

What was so poisonous, so inherently unlovable about Isaac that made people act that way around him? 

“Derek kicked me out for no reason.” He mumbled quietly, continuing. 

“Isaac-” Your urge to comfort him was welling up again. 

And now that he had opened the dam of these feelings - unfortunately, he couldn’t turn off the flood when it came. 

“I feel so alone.” 

He declared sharply, his voice edging into a near-sob that made your chest bitterly ache. His eyes were wide and wet with tears, and you nearly rushed across the room just to hold him. 

“I just - I feel so wrong. There is something inside of me that is so wrong, that is so damn broken. I felt like… for a moment, for a split second, things were good. I had a family, I had a purpose. But it’s me, ya know? I’m just broken. I break things. I fuck everything up. If I love something, it dies. So I can’t - I just can’t be loved.” 

“That’s not true.” You rushed to say it, and before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling from your lips. “I love you.” 

It was the first time you had spoken the words since the break-up, the first time you used those words in such an anchored, present tense. 

Isaac looked at you with the most broken expression you had ever seen. 

Thousands of demons fighting to get out, his eyes so glassy with hurt. His lips quivered as he fought with it himself - he wanted so badly to say it back, but the moment he did, he became liable again. The moment he did, he became yours again and you became his - you became something he could lose. 

It felt like a death sentence in his mouth. One that he couldn’t bring himself to curse you with. 

He let out a sharp, nasal breath as the words fought hard inside of his chest. Your own pain struggled inside of you, and you knew you had to do the one thing that you did best - comfort him. Release him from his pain. 

“It’s okay.” You told him gently. “It’s okay, just come to bed.” 

You patted the empty side of the mattress, and all of the tension left Isaac’s body in an instant, looking as though he was about to collapse in on himself. He practically fell across the gap from the window to the bed, falling into the comfort you provided once again. You raised the covers for him to crawl in beside you, laying your head on his chest so that you could enjoy the sound of his heartbeat as you pulled the covers up over the two of you. 

“You are loved, Isaac.” You told him - you had to tell him. You had to let him know. “And you aren’t alone. You’ll never be alone as long as I’m around.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He replied, the words so quiet that they barely broke free from his throat. 

If you weren’t careful, you would start crying again. 

“Just go to sleep now.” You told him, putting an arm around his stomach, holding him tightly while he put a hand around your back, holding you to him, anchoring you there as though you might drift away while he slept. “It’s all gonna be okay.” 

For some reason, that felt believable to him when you said it. 

… 

Isaac slept for a few wrecked hours, maybe less. 

He was woken up by a nightmare - a vision of Erica crawling toward him, desperately crying out for help before her throat was slashed by Kali. The sound of her choking on her own blood remained swollen in his ears when he jolted awake and stared at your ceiling. It was a while before he realized that calm, sweet pattern beside him was your breathing. 

He laid there and listened to it for a long time before he got up. He found himself too thankful that he could hear your heartbeat now - that he could know with his own ears that you were so alive, so safe. 

He watched you sleep - took in your peaceful face, the way the first golden rays of the sunrise kissed at your skin - and he knew that he could never let anything worthy of tainting his nightmares happen to you. He was a damn selfish dog, but he would never let you truly get hurt just because he wanted something as fading as sex or comfort. 

So Isaac kissed you on the forehead - gentle, careful not to wake you. And he gathered his things. He crept out the door still wearing the shirt that smelled like you. He would claim that it was because he didn’t have any clean laundry - not because he was greedy for your scent. 

… 

When you woke up, Isaac was gone. 

Your sister’s bedroom door was closed and her shoes were back by the front door, so she was home safely. Isaac was not in your bed, and his duffle bag was gone. He had even picked up the soaking wet clothes that he had strewn all over the floor. 

The only evidence you found that it hadn’t all been a dream was the used condom still in the wastebasket, and a tiny note on your bedside table that said ‘I love you, too’ scribbled in his handwriting on a piece of torn notebook paper. 

You were going to track him down - and when you did, you weren’t sure if you were going to kiss him or kill him.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a 'Part 2'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for a sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

I really enjoyed writing this fic, and I do have some ideas for a potential sequel, but it's not something that I am rushing to write, and it's not something that will be on my schedule anytime soon. If you would like to, you can come into my inbox and chat about my ideas for the potential sequel - but right now they are just ideas and they will stay that way for a long time before becoming a full realised story (if they ever become one). I hope you enjoyed this fic as the capsule story oneshot that I always intended for it to be, and that you enjoy my other works if you do check them out.

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

[notalotjust4ever]

They are so soft subspace and casual dominance, she walks that man like a dawg🎀 AND THE WAY SHE HOLDS HIS NECK WHEN SHE KISSES HIM⁉️LIKE A LITTLE KITTEN BY THE SCRUFF🙁I KNOW THEIR D/S RELATIONSHIP GOES INSANE‼️

Every fucking time Alice pulls Jasper away from a situation and just gives him a lil command I simply *have* to squeal like an idiot

WHAT DO YOU MEAN "Walk with me." AND YOURE PULLING HIM OUT OF HIS CHAIR???? THE LOOK IN HIS EYES???? EXCUSE ME??????????? "You wont hurt her." HUH????? MAAM. SIR. I KNOW YOURE IN A LIL D/S RELATIONSHIP BUT YOU DONT NEED TO BE SO HOT ABOUT IT

[cece693]

Can you do jasper hale x top male reader

Bratty (Jasper Hale x Top M! Reader)

Thanks for the request. Since it didn't have anything other than a top male reader, I took creative liberties and made Jasper a bratty king :) I didn't feel like writing smut, so apologies in advance, but some elements show reader being the dominant of the relationship :)

tags: bratty jasper, no smut but mentions of it, reader is pissed off

It had otherwise been a normal day—well, at least by vampire standards. You were outside, feeding on some wildlife, a young buck that had the misfortune of crossing your path while Jasper was inside the school. He’d been distant lately, opting to spend time away from you. Normally, this would’ve been fine; you weren’t exactly the clingy type. But lately, he’d been acting strange. Concerning, even. Jasper was usually stoic, his cold demeanor softening only when he was with you. Yet, these last few days, he’d been unusually…smiley.

Even the humans had noticed his sudden change in attitude, daring to encroach on what was rightfully yours. And worst of all? He let them. Hell, he smiled at them. It was as if he were inviting their attention, practically basking in it. He even started letting Alice pick out his clothes, something he never cared about before. It was like overnight, Jasper had turned into someone you barely recognized.

You had tried to brush it off, to ignore the gnawing feeling of jealousy and worry that clawed at you. But today, it got too much. Seeing him flash that grin at some brainless mortal girl in the hall had sent you over the edge. In a fit of rage, you stormed out of school, needing to get as far away as possible before you did something regrettable.

This brings you to the present moment: draining the blood of the unfortunate buck, trying to drown out your frustration with the taste of copper on your tongue. You didn’t expect Jasper to appear behind you, casually leaning against a tree, his lips curled into that smug smile that drove you mad.

"You stormed out in quite a hurry," he drawled, arms crossed as if he hadn’t just ignored you for days. "Jealous, are we?"

You wiped the blood from your mouth, narrowing your eyes at him. "What do you think?" you snapped, not in the mood for his playful tone.

Jasper shrugged, unbothered. "I think you’ve been overreacting. Alice said the same thing."

"Oh, Alice said that? Well, that just makes everything better," you shot back, sarcasm thick. "You’ve been acting like I don’t even exist, Jasper. Smiling at humans? Letting them flirt with you? Do you enjoy watching me lose my mind?"

He smirked, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "It’s kind of cute, actually."

You glared at him, fists clenching. "Cute? You think this is a game?"

His grin only widened, and he stepped closer. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing how far I can push you before you snap."

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your emotions a chaotic mess of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. Jasper had always been difficult, but this was new. You weren’t sure if you wanted to strangle him or kiss him senselessly.

"Fine," you said, your voice dangerously calm. "If you want to parade yourself around, don’t let me stop you."

Jasper’s smirk wavered, just for a moment, a flicker of something like surprise crossing his face. But it quickly vanished, and the smirk returned in full force. He nodded, his eyes gleaming with a self-assured smile. "Good. I knew you’d see it my way."

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked away, not bothering to look back. You could feel Jasper’s eyes on you, but you didn’t slow down. Back at school, you entered the cafeteria and deliberately avoided the table where your family sat, heading straight for Bella and her friends instead. "Hello." You greeted politely, "mind if I sit here?"

"No!" Rebecca quickly exclaimed, pulling out the chair beside her. It was entertaining watching her try to impress you—Rebecca was beautiful in an obvious way, blonde with striking green eyes, and her slight resemblance to Jasper made it almost too easy to flirt. Bella was confused by your sudden appearance, but looking behind her explained everything. The Cullens were still, but their shoulders shook in silent laughter, as Jasper evidently fumed in his seat. Eyes narrowed and lips drawn in a tight line as he watched you and Rebecca flirt.

"You know, I’ve always thought you had the most beautiful eyes." you said, flashing her a charming smile. The compliment made her blush, and she laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Your smile widened, hearing the obvious sound of wood breaking. You spent the remainder of lunch interacting with Rebecca, acting oblivious to the eyes burning a hole in your back. Wanting to push your beloved further (because he ignored you for days) when the bell rang, you offered Rebecca to walk her to class. An action that you solely reserved for Jasper. Well did.

By the time the school day ended, Jasper was furious. During the ride home, he made it a point of giving you the silent treatment, not even answering questions concerning you from your siblings. He didn't look at you, and you were sure he was also thinking badly of you, judging by Edward's soft chuckles.

Once you got home, you headed straight to your bedroom. Jasper followed, closing the door behind him with a little too much force. "What’s wrong, babe?"

Jasper’s eyes narrowed at your mocking tone, his arms defiantly crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the door. He looked at you like you’d just asked the stupidest question in the world, his lips curling into an irritated pout. "What’s wrong, babe?" he mimicked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he threw your words back at you.

"Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you spent lunch flirting with Rebecca like it was your new favorite pastime, calling her eyes beautiful and letting her practically crawl into your lap. Seriously? You looked like you were one second away from asking her to the prom."

"I'm pretty sure she's already going with Jason—"

“Not the point,” Jasper hissed, his frustration evident. “I never allowed them to touch me. I didn’t encourage them to twirl their goddamn hair and giggle every minute. And I sure as hell didn’t walk them to class.”

“What’s your problem, Jasper?” you shot back, your anger bubbling to the surface. “It’s not like this came out of nowhere! You were the one who started paying attention to those humans, letting them flirt with you even when I was right next to you. And don’t get me started on how you’ve ignored me these past days, opting to spend time with Alice or Emmett, of all people!”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?! Me wanting to get my husband’s attention is a crime?!”

"That's the reason for your bratty attitude?!" you exclaimed, disbelief thick in your voice. “You thought acting like a complete jerk would somehow get me to notice you?”

Jasper shrugged, a pout forming on his lips. “What else was I supposed to do? You’ve been so distant! We haven’t had sex since last week! Do you know how long that is for me? I thought maybe if I made a scene, you’d realize you actually want me.”

You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape. “You could have just talked to me about it!”

“Talking hasn’t exactly worked out for me,” he snapped. “Every time I try to bring it up, you act like I’m being dramatic. Well, guess what? I am dramatic! I’m a vampire, and I have needs!”

Despite your irritation, you felt the heat of your anger cooling, replaced by that familiar, annoying fondness you had for his childish antics. It was hard to stay mad when the root of his pettiness was so disarmingly sweet. “Admit it, Jasper. You were just being petty because you missed me.”

Jasper opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say another word, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a fierce, searing kiss. His initial surprise melted into fervent eagerness, and he clung to you like you were the very blood he needed to survive. The tension between you dissipated—your fingers tangled in his golden hair as you deepened the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, you smiled down at Jasper—his eyes wide, pout replaced with an adoring smile that sent a rush of satisfaction through you. “If you want my attention,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, “ask for it nicely, like a good boy.”

Jasper bit his lip, his cocky bravado entirely undone as he nodded, eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and submission. “Yes, sir. I’ll be good.” With that, you knew he’d be on his best behavior...for now.

[boredgrace23]

I can't believe I've never noticed that a lot of the mercenaries/the women in purple are based on actual villains in media:

Pyro is the monster/the alien. This one is obvious. He's the typical villain you'd see in sci-fi. They're always described/put in in the context of being "weird" or "creepy."

Engineer is the genius and slasher villain. This one is also obvious when his dialogue is put into context. He mocks everyone in his domination lines and has that general vibe of "stalking towards you like Michael Myers." He's also incredibly smart.

Spy is the double agent. The one who's "suave" and "knows what he's doing at all times" while simultaneously backstabbing you, much like how an antagonistic spy would in espionage movies.

Scout is the bully in high school films. I don't need to explain this one. He literally stole Heavy's sandwich in meet the scout.

Soldier is the fanatic villain who's driven purely by their ideology. I also don't need to describe this one.

Demoman is the anarchist, and, this is more of a broad term, but the criminal as well. The one who blows shit up because it's fun and are in it for the money. The destructionist type.

Heavy is the machine or the beast. He's always in front gunning down as much people as possible like how a machine/beast would in sci-fi or fantasy. He's also got more of a stereotypical henchmen vibe too, the type of character that stand intimidatingly behind the main villain.

Medic, the mad scientist. This one is also easily explained given the nature of his character. German, a man of science, etc.

Sniper is a sort of corrupted villain, the one who was "good" before he fell into the dark side. Though this assumption is based on the theory that Sniper didn't get into the mercenary business until Miss Pauling came to him for a contract. He's also the hunter archetype. That one's an obvious one too.

Miss Pauling is the Femme fatale/hench(wo)men. She's like a combination of these two, but the more comedic parts of them(?) She's awkward yet still charming. The punctual women who has her head on her shoulders at all times.

And finally: The Administrator. She's the mastermind/authority figure. The kind of person you'd see in spy movies or movies based around prisons. She's the top dog. The authoritarian.

But yeah, that's it. While I would also include Saxton Hale and the Mann brothers in this, I am unfortunately running out of time here because I need to vacuum up. That's it, though. This was more for myself as a reminder, but you guys can have this analysis too.

[homisexual11]

Jalice X Reader Headcanons

Jasper Whitlock/Hale and Alice Cullen X Reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of vampirism… NSFW at the end.

SFW

–Alice had seen you coming and told Jasper all about it. They fell for you so quickly, even if it took Jasper a bit longer (he definitely had to meet you first and get to know you) than it took Alice (who saw you in her vision and told Jasper everything… he surprisingly took it well)

–Alice spoils you rotten. She gets you clothes, jewelry if you are a girl, literally anything, even if you don’t ask.

–Alice got your first kiss. It had been an accident, she was kissing all over your face and didn’t think and kissed your lips... It was actually cute.

–Jasper took a while before he could touch you, and when he did for the first time Alice had to be right next to you. She didn’t think he would hurt you–no, she knew–but it was for his comfort.

–”It’s alright, Jasper, you won’t hurt her/him,” is a common saying from Alice.

–Once Jasper could finally touch you, physical touch would 100% be his love language. (Along with words of affirmation)

–Alice’s love languages are gifts and quality time… but she likes all of them.

–You are their singer, which makes it harder for the poor cowboy.

–Yes, you call him cowboy. It’s just teasing, but it’s super cute.

–They give you the cutest (or most random nicknames ever) ex. “Baby Love” was used once.

–Alice unironically called you kitten for a while.

–If you turned and were together in the 2020s, you and Alice would jokingly call Jasper Pookie and he hates it so much.

–Jasper is always the first to apologize after a fight. Always.

–Jasper is such a fucking gentleman. Opening doors, guiding either you or Alice on his arm, relatively open-minded, mostly the mature one in fights. He’s also just the peacekeeper.

–Alice is very progressive in relationship stuff, but can work with whatever you need; whereas, Jasper can sometimes stick to certain older tendencies. (Although he listens to what you have to say if you’re a woman, he does think that even if you could kill him if you were a vampire, he needs to protect you.)

–Jasper wouldn’t even think about touching you inappropriately until you were married, even after that he would be hesitant… unless you were a vampire.

–Alice loves doing your hair.

–So does Jasper, but he doesn’t ask… unless you’re like laying with him and he’ll mindlessly play with your hair.

–It’s gentle love. Very much. Mostly because of Jasper, but Alice is gentle as well.

–The first area of you Jasper kissed was your hand. Argue with the wall.

–Alice casually leans her head on your shoulder a lot. She’s a cuddle bug; a lot of little touches from her like she’ll have a hand on your arm or something like that.

–Casual dominance with Jasper… anyways.

–They both are always checking if you’ve eaten or drank anything.

–Jasper 100% regulates your mood. Not all the time, but if something happens and you get SUPER mad or something like that he’ll calm you down. If you weren’t okay with it, he wouldn’t do it all the time, but in a case where something bad was gonna happen, he would.

–Jasper would let you and Alice paint his nails if you begged hard enough. (Guilt trip the already manipulated boyyyy)

NSFW

–They’re both relatively dominant. They’re both soft doms, though.

–I know you see fanfictions that are like “Oh the Major would come out and he would span–” No, boy wouldn’t harm you to save his life. The worst that’ll happen is he’ll rail you into oblivion, but never physically harm you… besides the fucking into oblivion.

–They both love to give, but receiving >>>> just depends on when you ask them though.

–Jasper would not touch you until after you got married, although Alice didn’t believe in that, she wanted the first time to be special and if you wanted it to be with all three of them she would wait.

–If you were still human, it would be SO gentle. Like S O G E N T L E. They would focus all on you, Jasper would keep his mouth away from you though.

–Jasper used his gift to make you feel pleasure, which led to overstimulation… safe to say that is what the “punishment” would be if you were into that, rather than spanking.

–If you’re not into any of that, they can be vanilla too. Jasper is obviously close to vanilla anyways, so…

–Alice loves it when you go down on her.

–Jasper was afraid to let either of you go on top at first, but after a while (and a lot of praising to him) he would.

–In that case, he would call you “ma’am/sir.” He normally calls you that, but when he says it in a whiny voice >>>>

–Once you have turned… it lasts a long time.

–Jasper will kiss you all over, ALL OVER. and Alice is just like, “Woah, save some for me–” he’s just making up for lost kisses.

–Sweetest nicknames that could go in SFW as well, but oh well.

Ex. From Jasper: “Hon, doll, sugar, darlin’, babydoll, LITTLE ONE? even princess( if you were a girl)” From Alice: “Sweet boy/girl, sweetie, sweetness, honey, baby, kitten..”

–Jasper calls it lovemaking, Alice calls it whatever most people call it at the time.

[infiniteeight8]

Peter (or 'other' if 3rd POV) didn't realise Stiles would be the possessive one.

I was pondering possible other POVs for this, and then I thought of the Sheriff and once I had that thought I could not resist.

This is set in a bit of a future AU.

-

Noah had been worried about a lot of things when Stiles finally admitted to him that he was in a relationship with Peter Hale. The age difference and species difference were both definitely included, but chief among Noah’s concerns had been the way Peter always tried to play all the angles. Stiles was twenty-two years old, he needed the freedom to figure his life out. Noah had spent a good week mentally composing the talk he’d need to give Peter if he tried to dominate Stiles’s life.

Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to Noah that Stiles would be the possessive one.

In hindsight, maybe he should have realized. When Stiles decided something was his, he tended to hang on with both hands and it took a hell of a lot to pry him free. But he hadn’t been like this with Lydia or Malia or the men and women he’d dated upon reaching college.

Noah wonders if that says more about Stiles’s relationship with Peter, or his relationships with everyone else.

For now, he watches as Stiles scowls across the backyard of the rebuilt Hale House at Peter and the very attractive man who is engaging him in conversation. 

“Who is that?” Noah asks, because maybe reminding Stiles where everyone stands will help.

“Mark Lewis,” Stiles says immediately. “The Lewis Pack has been angling for an alliance. That’s probably why he’s buttering up Peter.”

“That means it’s business, right?” Noah says.

“Sure,” Stiles says, but then Mark takes a half step closer to Peter and suddenly Stiles is striding across the lawn, sliding into the space next to Peter and putting an arm around him even as he offers Mark a handshake and a sharp smile.

Maybe, Noah thought wryly, he ought to give that speech he’d practiced to Stiles instead.

[christinesficrecs]

Hey Christine! What are some of your favourite deleted sterek fics?

There are so many!!! Everything by Circe6 and Grimm.

Alpha Spikes by starbeast | 70.1K | Explicit

Unchained by exclamation | 156.1K | Explicit

Werewolves are considered little better than animals and often treated much worse, forced into slavery from birth. Derek has been owned by enough humans to know their cruelty. When he’s bought by Stiles, he expects more of the same. But Stiles is not like any human he’s dealt with before.

The ETA from You to Me by tylerfucklin | 105K | Explicit

No Way Out by trilliath | 121.5K | Explicit

this town is only gonna eat you by sempiternalsea | 16.3K | Mature

On the outskirts of Stockholm, Derek takes down six men of eight with nothing but a boot knife and Stiles at his back. By the end, he’s covered in an array of bruises and blood and dirty snow, crouched low to the ground. Stiles stands by him, posture perfectly erect, Glock still raised. He’s got a smear of lipstick on his mouth and gunpowder residue on his sleeve. The men at their feet do not stir. (An AU where Stiles is a spy and Derek is his assassin.)

My Patience is a Medal by Saucery | 6.1K | Mature

Lead Me Home by Circe6

"Yeah, the world had gone to shit. What's left of it split into territories, viciously fought over andprotected, as if anything is worth protecting any more. Forests to the north, wastelands to the south.There are human territories, wolf territories, witch territories and no-man's lands, where the Chimerasrule."

A post-apocalyptic fairytale

The Silver Lining Of Smog by Circe6

Set in a dystopian future in the year 250X, where everyone lives in large metropolises known asthe Poleis. Each Poleis is controlled by the guilds and the gangs that dominate the seedy underworld.

Derek is a member of the notorious Triskele gang, working as a drug runner for his 'Uncle' Peter, who is a pimp and a ganglord. After Derek brings in a stray werefox he found on the run from the police, his entire world begins to change.

a mountain to climb by grimm | 126.4K

“Don’t do it,” he mutters. “Don’t do it, please, don’t do it.”

But there it is, a soft pink line appearing right next to the control. Stiles’ legs give out from under him; he sinks to the bathroom floor, hands shaking, his entire body shaking. It’s hard to breathe, his vision blurring around the edges. There’s a knock on the door behind him and then it opens and Scott sits down next to him.

“I’m fucked,” Stiles gasps, tears prickling at his eyes. “I’m fucked!”

Want is a Dangerous Thing by grimm | 19.2K | Explicit

It was bad enough that Derek was so terrible at meeting people that he had to buy himself a mate, but it was even worse that his mother called a pack meeting about it. Laura was never, ever going to let him live this down.

Dating Backwards by RemainNameless | 85.8K

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

Its Called a Heart Boner by RemainNameless | 26.7K | Mature

The five times Derek saves a very drunk Stiles and the one time Stiles saves him back.

hold on to me because I’m a little unsteady by starcanopus | 6K | Time Travel AU

show me something beautiful by starcanopus | 9K

Isaac is the one who first catches sight of the ring, an entire two months after the captain had joined the 14th precinct. It’s somewhat pathetic, really, considering the fact that an entire floor full of detectives hadn’t noticed right off the bat.

But when he does see it—a thin, silver band so innocuous that it could have just been a trick of the light—he trips headfirst into a recycling bin, earning a dirty glance from his boss through the window of the man’s office and Isaac kind of wants to sink into the ground and never come back out, but he has a duty to fulfill: spreading the news to every floor of the precinct that the captain is married.

Captain Derek Hale is married.

Circe6 | Grimm | Saucery | RemainNameless | Starcanopus.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I was wondering if there were any fics where after season 1 or 2 Derek becomes a teacher at BHHS, preferably Sterek but if not than that's fine!

Hi anon! Raiven made this list and says "I couldn't find any for specifically after s1/2, so heres some teacher!derek with a side of sterek!"

Bad ideas (ans good results) by MysticRadio_Fivesososnotonfire (38/38 | 47,345 | Explicit | Sterek) Derek Hale is a 24 year old University professor in Beacon Hills and he’s always been a student favourite, well expect for one student. Stiles Stilinski, an snarky, arrogant and lazy 21 year old who must just be taking the classes for fun as he sure as hell ain’t passing them.

Teacher’s Pet by MemoriesArePain (30/30  | 43,496 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles makes a profile on an app suggested by Scott after a year of not really dating post a break up from a mildly abusive relationship. After all, it's where Scott and Isaac met. What could go wrong? Stiles begins sexting a dominant guy on there, not realizing that it will turn out to be his law professor in a week when classes start. They both remain anonymous at first, and they continue on into the beginning of the school year. Things get complicated when they meet of course.

Derek makes a profile after his messy divorce, needs some fun and nothing complicated. Of course, it wouldn't stay that way. No matter how hard he tries he can't deny the feelings he's developing. He's screwed.

Know That Golden Rule by DerRumtreiber (9/15 | 38,636 | Explicit | Sterek) “So what, I’m just supposed to waltz back into their lives? And they’ll just accept me as their alpha again?”

“Yes!” Stiles practically shouts. “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. I mean, ideally, you never would have left in the first place—”

“You told me to leave.”

Stiles ignores him. “ —never would have left in the first place. But you did. And now you’re back, and you’re going to fix what you broke.”

~

Or, the one where Derek leaves for a year and comes back with a teaching degree and a job at Beacon Hills High School.

When History Met Science by JossWritesSometimes (11/11 | 31,339 | Teen | Sterek) Professor Derek Hale has been teaching History for three years, and has painstakingly kept his private life, private. He would not consider himself a lonely man (no matter what his sister says). Until a certain biology professor, Stiles Stilisnki, arrives at the university. From mistaking him for a student, to becoming friends, could Stiles be the person that makes Derek want to give love another chance?

When the Teacher Met the Agent by JossWritesSometimes (7/7 | 16,828 | Not Rated | Sterek) Derek Hale has been a teacher for almost five years in NYC, but this year he is back in Beacon Hills and has taken his first job as a Kindergarten teacher. However, unlike in NYC, he has multiple Supernatural students, which is something he was not expecting. Especially a certain Stiles Stilinski, who smells...weird. Who is this boy who runs with wolves, and why can't he get him out of his head?

Snippets from them meeting to maybe, possibly, falling in love.

This is what I went to school for by TalesoftheEnchantedForest (1/1 | 10,906 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is a music teacher who's advice to a struggling Eli leads to meeting the sexiest man on Earth, falling for one of his students' dad (literally), and then dating the Spanish teacher at their school. Who are all the same guy, actually.

Stiles is set on making this relationship as romcom-worthy as possible. They just have to work on their communication first.

The New Teacher by TwistedAmusement13 & everchanginginnks (1/1 | 9,562 | Mature | Sterek) Derek, a world-weary English teacher pushing 40, is roped into a wet night out by his best friends. He finds himself charmed by a flirty college student who introduces himself as Stiles. They share an incredible night, but Stiles leaves before Derek wakes up. Thinking that he'll never see Stiles again, Derek bitterly gets ready for work at Beacon Hills High School. He's in for a bit of shock when he's introduced to the newly hired science teacher...

Trick or Treat, Mr. Hale? By literaryoblivion (1/1 | 5,247 | Explicit | Sterek) The tardy bell sounds, ringing loudly, and Derek stands from his desk.

“Alright, settle down,” he says, raising his voice to make sure his students that are still laughing and talking will hear him. “We’re picking up where we left off yesterday, page 138, the Civil War. Now, who can tell me what battle--”

The classroom door swings open, and all the eyes in the class snap to the movement. Derek tries not to react when he sees who it is, tries to make sure his face is a mix of sternness and disappointment when his infamously tardy troublemaker of a student waltzes in with a smirk.

“Stiles,” he says in a sigh.

the shape of my heart by Winchesterek (1/1 | 4,807 | Mature | Sterek) Stiles never thought he'd meet someone like Derek. Someone that was in a similar situation as he was - raising kids that weren't biologically his. It was even wilder because Derek was his god daughters first grade teacher and she was best friends with Derek's niece and nephew.

And Derek was hot. So hot that Stiles couldn't help ogling him every time they spent any amount of time around each other, including play dates and lunch in the school cafeteria with their kids. So Derek asking him out for Valentine's Day? That was just icing on the cake. Plus, Stiles was already head over heels for him.

[sterekbigbang]

Rewrite The Stars (63,625 words) by Winchesterek (@sterekbros) Art by @kelestialart For @sterekbigbang 2023-2024, Round 6 Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Lydia Martin, Danny Māhealani/Jackson Whittemore, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Are Siblings, Roman Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Derek Hale, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Gladiator Derek Hale, Slavery, Arranged Marriage, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Anal Fisting, People As Property, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Holy Roman Empire, Knotting, Good Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Full Shift Werewolf Derek Hale, Semi-Public Sex, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Adoption, Breeding Kink, Surprise Knotting, Mating Bites, Birth, compulsory hetero sex, Sex Toys, Gay Sex, Slave Derek Hale, POV Derek Hale, POV Stiles Stilinski

Summary: When Stiles receives his first gladiators as a gift from his father and becomes a Lanista, there is one who captures his attention above the others…one whose eyes gleam with hate, pride, and desire. Sold into slavery to avenge his family, Derek can barely conceal his contempt toward his new Dominus. Derek has a plan: kill Stiles and end the lineage of the Roman family that burned his family. For his plan to succeed, he must make a show of respect and obedience—even when called on to service his master’s desires. Derek is shocked to learn that in the confines of his quarters, Stiles doesn’t want to dominate his slave but to be taken by him. Even when Stiles learns of Derek’s plans for revenge, he knows he can’t live without him.

[thegettingbyp2]

May I have Jasper Hale + Dominant Reader? Any gender. Because having a powerful man voluntarily get on his knees for you, to hand over power to YOU, to submit and willingly LET you break him? And to fall into subspace, knowing that he can TRUST you? With Jasper's past history? Wow. Bonus Points if Jasper gets all flustered feeling his dom's gentle&dark desire for him just LOOMING beforehand, because being an empath must make one's love life...interesting. 😏

Let Yourself Fall

A/N: I was so nervous when I first started writing this and then as soon as I got through the first paragraph it all just kind of came out! I really hope you enjoy it and it was really fun to write for a dominant!reader! I'm still more comfortable with sub!reader simply because I can write some things from experience with it but I did really enjoy writing this!

Buy me a coffee :)

It didn’t take Jasper long to figure out what the unusual emotion was that he was sensing from you. He was used to feeling love radiating from you towards him, occasionally lust mixing in. But this was something else entirely; he wouldn’t describe it as dark, but it wasn’t like your usual presence either. The two of you were fooling around in your bed, Jasper pinning your body to your bed as he kissed you breathless. It was in this moment he felt that new emotion seem to surge from you, almost knocking Jasper over with how strong he felt it.

‘Are you okay, darlin’?’ he asked, cupping your cheek with his palm, smirking slightly when he felt the heat from your skin burn into his cooler skin.

‘I just need you, Jas,’ you moaned and that sound in itself had Jasper leaning backwards a bit more, cocking his head to the side. He was used to pulling soft moans and small whimpers and whines from your lips; he always prided himself in how easily he could pull those sounds from you, how submissive you always were for him. However, this time, your moan was louder and didn’t sound anything like the submissive little sounds he was so used to hearing from you and he felt something akin to frustration roll over you.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, moving completely off of your body and refusing to do anything else until he was 100% sure that you were okay.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ you insisted, slowly rising up onto your knees opposite him and placing your hands on both of his shoulders, pushing slightly. You knew that Jasper was letting you push him down onto the mattress, his unnatural strength preventing him from actually falling. ‘I just want to try something else tonight,’ you said, straddling his hips once he was flat on the bed. The moment Jasper felt your covered pussy lower onto his clothed cock, his hands shot out to rest on your hips.

‘And what would that be?’

‘Well, I’m always the submissive one in this situation,’ you began.

‘And you’re so good at it, darlin’,’ he cut in, sitting up to pepper kisses along your jaw line, causing your eyes to flutter shut before you snapped yourself out of it, knowing that if you gave into him now, you wouldn’t get what you really wanted tonight.

‘Well, what if I don’t want to be your darlin’ tonight, what if I want you to call me something else?’

‘Like what?’

‘Ma’am.’

You watched as realisation settled in his eyes when he figured out what you meant and you saw unease cloud his eyes almost immediately.

‘We don’t have to if you don’t want to though!’ You were quick to reassure him, bringing both of your hands up to rest on his cheeks, making him look at you.

‘It’s just, I haven’t been like that with anyone since Maria,’ he said quietly as he pulled you an inch closer to him unconsciously. ‘And we both know that story doesn’t end well.’

‘And, like I said, we don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable. But you know that I’m nothing like her, I care about you Jasper, you’d be safe with me,’ you spoke gently, running your fingers over his face soothingly as he looked at you, his decision warring in his eyes.

‘I trust you,’ he finally said, bring his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. ‘I’m all yours…ma’am,’ he drawled against your lips, his Southern accent thickening with his desire. You couldn’t help the bubble of excitement that filled your body at his answer and you deepened the kiss.

‘I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. And if, at any point, you want to stop, just tell me, okay?’

Jasper nodded and let you push him back down against the mattress as you slid down his body, dragging your hands down the expanse of his bare chest before settling on your knees between his legs, your hands coming to a stop at the top of his jeans. You smirked to yourself when you felt his hips buck lightly against your touch and you made quick work of unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them along with his boxers down his legs, leaving him completely naked and you still in your summer dress.

‘You’re so pretty, Jas,’ you murmured as you pressed a gentle kiss to his hip bone, a sharp intake of air heard from above you and you saw as his cock twitched at the sensation. ‘What do you want?’

‘You,’ he gasped, seeming to have already dropped fully into his submissive role and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that he trusted you that much.

You kissed his other hip bone, this time, lightly grazing your teeth against his skin. ‘Use your words, baby,’ you spoke softly as you lifted your eyes to look at him, leaving your lips to flutter around his hips and V-Line.

‘Can I have your mouth, ma’am?’ he asked quietly, clearly not used to the reversed dynamic between the two of you.

‘Good boy,’ you praised, grinning when you heard his little moan at your praise. You kissed your way down his V-Line and down the length of his cock before you took the head between your lips and suckled gently. Jasper threw his head back at the sensation of your hot, wet mouth engulfing him and he tried as hard as he could to not buck up into your mouth; wanting to be good for you. You slowly began to lower your mouth down him, humming in pleasure around him which only served to turn him on even more.

You felt the head of his cock brush against the back of your throat and you were quick to pull your head back up, a pained cry escaping Jasper’s lips.

‘Please,’ he whined at the sudden loss of your mouth and he started to squirm on the bed, trying to find anything that would give him even the slightest bit of relief.

‘Don’t be greedy, baby boy,’ you chastised, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. ‘If you get impatient, you aren’t going to get anything are you? You were so good for me just a second ago, can you still be my good boy, Jasper?’

The sound of his name on your lips in such a dominant tone sent Jasper almost into a trance and he felt himself relax a bit more into the bed, the only thing he was focused on was making sure he was good for you.

‘Yes ma’am, I’m your good boy,’ he confirmed, nodding his head quickly. You hummed happily and took the head of his cock back between your lips, suckling gently as your hand began to work up and down his cock. His moans began to increase in volume, something that had you practically grinning like a Cheshire cat around his cock and you felt him twitch in your mouth and against your palm. The louder his moans grew, the closer he was to his climax and you waited until he was just teetering over the edge before you pulled away completely, you heart clenching with adoration as you saw that he already looked a wreck because of you. His eyes were damp as his orgasm died back down without being released in the first place.

You quickly pulled your panties down your legs before straddling him once again, keeping your dress on. The feeling of your bare pussy resting against his hard cock had his head snapping up to look at you and you knew that his grip on your waist was going to leave a series of bruises. ‘You’re so good for me,’ you hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips and Jasper could only nod in response. ‘Do you feel how wet I am for you, Jasper?’ you asked coyly, slowly rubbing your pussy against him, causing a low growl to rumble in his chest. ‘You did this to me so I think that it’s only right that you fix it.’

Lifting your hips, you lined his cock up with your entrance and you slowly sank down on him, the two of you moaning in harmony at the feeling of him filling you up. Jasper’s hands made their way to you dress, and made an attempt to rip it off your body.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ you asked, stilling your movements on top of him.

‘Taking this off for you, ma’am,’ he whined, absolutely hating the fact that you were still covered up.

‘But I don’t need you to take it off, baby boy. I have everything just the way I want it,’ you confirmed much to Jasper’s dismay. You were loving the power that you were currently holding over him but something about the pained whine that escaped his lips made you take pity on him slightly. ‘You can pull the top of the dress down,’ you said and as soon as the words left your mouth, Jasper’s hands had ripped the top of your dress down so it was just sitting as a skirt around your hips.

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he quickly spoke before latching his lips onto one of your nipples, his thumb and index finger coming up to pinch and toy with your other nipple. The sudden shock of cold on your nipples had them hardening to the point of almost pain in no time and you tipped your head back in pleasure as you began to ride him harder, your hips slapping against each other obscenely.

‘Close, ma’am,’ Jasper mumbled around your nipple, the vibration running through your body and putting you on the edge as well. Your fingers fisted into his blonde hair and you yanked his head up so you could look into his eyes. The sight of his hooded, dazed eyes had you clenching around his cock as your orgasm ran through your body and you could see in his face that it was taking Jasper all the strength he had not to follow straight behind.

‘Cum for me, Jasper, you’ve been such a good boy for me,’ you cooed softly at him and with a whimper, he clutched your body even tighter as you felt his cum fill you up and pool on both of your hips. You remained on top of him while you both came down, Jasper’s head falling to rest on your chest and your fingers lightly scratching at his scalp. ‘You okay?’ you spoke gently, knowing from the look in his eyes that he’d began to fall into subspace.

Jasper nodded tiredly and gave you a lazy smile that had your heart jumping in your chest. ‘I love you,’ he spoke so quietly that at first, you weren’t sure that you heard him.

‘I love you too, so much,’ you replied. You made to let him slip out of you so you could go and grab a cloth to clean the two of you up but as soon as he felt you move, Jasper held onto you even tighter, whining against your skin.

‘Don’t leave me,’ he mumbled sadly and your heart clenched at his words as a wave of white hot anger ran through your body when you thought of the way Maria must have treated him when he was with her.

‘I’m not leaving you baby,’ you kept your voice calm and quiet, hoping that it would soothe him. It was in this moment that you wished you had the power to influence his mood as he so often did for you. ‘I just need to go get something to clean us both up and then I can come right back and I won’t leave your side at all. But I need you to tell me you’re okay before I go, Jasper. You let yourself fall into subspace for me and I’m so proud of you for that but before I do anything else, I need to make sure you’re okay?’

Jasper looked into your eyes and instantly felt himself calm down when he felt the rush of love that came from you; something that he had never felt from Maria, with her it always felt like she threw him away after, but not with you. He nodded gently and gave you a soft smile. ‘I’m okay,’ he whispered before helping you off of his lap so you could carry on taking care of him.

[nikethestatue]

Not Another Hallmark Christmas Story

TW: PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS A DARK STORY. It contains stalking, gaslighting, mental and emotional abuse and sexual assault.

Happy Birthday @elrieldreamer Have an awesome day!

Chapter 3

‘Tis was the night…

I was surprised when she came to the office on Monday. I figured she’d take a day off to mope and question her life choices. I figured she’d wonder if she was sexually assaulted. I figured she’d wrestle with the knowledge that she was and then, she’d question herself, and wonder why she didn’t hate it. 

And yes, I am the first one to admit that I sexually assaulted her. And I know that she was plagued by doubts and questioned everything that she knew about herself. 

I am not a rapist. For the most part, I like women. I very much like smart women, who are curious about the world and who can hold an interesting conversation. I am a fan of women who have a sense of humour, who can surprise me with their knowledge, and who are current on all world affairs, and who don’t showcase their lives on Instagram. I like women who have some confidence, but who aren’t overly confident. And most of all, I like women who are naturally submissive and yearn to be dominated without knowing that they do. I am not a dom, and I am not a rapist. I like to be in control. And I like to watch a woman yield to me, accept my control over her, and ultimately, submit. 

And there are so very few women out there who fit the bill. 

I tried. G-d knows I tried. 

I've never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. Sometimes, it was only a few days. The women inevitably disappointed. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for and who’d fit the bill–trial and error, they say. I tried many. And erred with all of them. They all thought that it was a game that I dabbled in. And that if they played along, I’d eventually get it out of my system and the next step would be a ‘normal’ life. An engagement ring. A lavish wedding. A penthouse. A suburban estate. 2.7 children. A golf club membership. Lunches. Charities. Galleries.

None understood that this is who I am. I am not a guy who likes rough sex. I am not abnormal either. I don’t have a kink to work through. I don’t get any joy in hurting females. I simply know what I want and what I desire, I get. 

What I’ve wanted from the moment I laid eyes on her was my Elain.

I know that I would’ve noticed her regardless of circumstances, because to me, she was unmissable. She was striking and so quiet and uncomfortable.

Our building has a cafeteria, however, most of us eat in the break room on our floor. I remember the day I saw her very clearly. It wasn’t some throwaway moment in my life. It is etched in my mind with crystal clarity. Because somehow, I knew that it was important. When I saw her, it was important to me. 

In fact, I heard her first. Isaac Hale, the skinny nerd on the team, was solving the New York Times crossword puzzle at the table, his lunch forgotten. Others were eating, or milling around and chatting. I knew that some of these people would be on my team, so I figured that I’d make an appearance and have them get used to me and my presence, though I wasn’t going to make any formal introductions just yet. Let them stew. Let them worry. I have that effect on people–I make them nervous. 

I was grabbing a water from the fridge, when I overheard Isaac’s exasperated moan, 

“Ruling family of Monaco?” 

Before I could turn around and see what the hell he was talking about, I heard a small, quiet voice say ‘Grimaldi’. 

“What?” Isaac called out, confused. I looked out at the break room and heard again, 

“The ruling family of the Principality of Monaco are the Grimaldis.”

Isaac furiously scribbled something in the newspaper and cried out ‘yeah they are! Thanks, El!’’

El.

El?

I craned my neck slightly to see who the elusive ‘El’ was, and finally spotted a lonesome figure who was sitting by the window, reading a Kindle, drinking Seltzer water, a half eaten salad in front of her, which clearly didn’t hold her attention. There were two guys at the same table–I didn’t know their names–but they clearly wanted to be there, and were peacocking like two douchenozzles in front of her. She paid them no heed. In fact, before I could even approach her to have a better look, she got up swiftly from her chair, grabbed her half-eaten salad and offered the two men a strained, close-mouthed smile, and hurried away from the table.

I stilled. I stood there, dumbfounded, because I was brought to my knees by her beauty. 

I stood there, watching the most breathtaking woman walk towards me, her round hips swaying sexily, her full, glorious tits bouncing beneath a cobalt-blue silk blouse. She wore a slightly flared pleated skirt and nude pantyhose, her feet clad in less than sensible nude pumps. 

Her cheeks were very pink. She was uncomfortable. Long golden brown hair was tied into a neat, appropriate bun. 

She scurried by me, without lifting her eyes, clutching the tablet to her chest. She passed by me like I didn’t exist. And I know that I am hard to miss–I am tall and I take up a lot of space. I wore a black suit too, hovering around everything like a dark cloud, gobbling up space. I liked that. I also knew that my appearance piqued the attention of many women. Should I sound conceited? I am handsome. I think it’s dumb to pretend that I am not, and not use it to my advantage. I am handsome, tall and in good shape. It was simply unfathomable that she wouldn't pay attention to me…that she wouldn’t notice me. She didn’t though. She just tiptoed by, ignoring me like I was a piece of furniture. 

And that was that.

Because she was so freaking oblivious to everything, I allowed myself the opportunity to watch her for a few days. She never noticed it. They say that women can always sense predators, but either she didn’t consider me one, or her danger radar was at zero. I wasn’t sure what the deal was. 

But she came in early every day, arriving by train, without coffee, and not wearing sensible shoes. She dressed well–long camel coats, a Burberry scarf, expensive Oxfords, which she exchanged for pumps when she was in the office. Tuckernut dresses–not too outrageous, but not cheap either. I knew how much she made–well into the low six figures–and that explained how she could afford the wardrobe. She didn’t drink Starbucks. She avoided it and would sometimes wrinkle her nose when someone suggested that she come and get Starbies with them. It was amusing. No, she drank an Italian espresso from a cafe on the ground floor. At the bar, like a true Italian. She slammed it back, then got a cappuccino to go and always an almond cornetto. 

She was a diligent worker, but she still had much to learn. I knew that this was her first job out of Northwestern. She obviously was very intelligent, but experience is experience, and she didn’t have much of it. So she made mistakes and when she realised it, I could see that she was frustrated. She was clearly a perfectionist. 

I’d made my move the week that I first saw her.

There were people in the break room, eating free doughnuts that I brought, gathered by the coffee machine. Pedantically, someone announced that they wanted Starbucks instead of the break room coffee. I saw my way in and said clearly ‘I am buying’. That didn’t even make her look up from her laptop. As if she didn’t hear my voice, and an offer of a free coffee didn’t matter to her. Frustrated, I bumped into her, on purpose obviously, caging her in with my body, as I made a show of reaching for the sugar cubes that were kept in the cupboard above. I didn’t touch her, but I stood as close as possible to her, pulling her scent into my lungs. I wasn’t sure what the perfume was, but she smelled of jasmine. When I looked down, I noticed delicate golden strands within the mass of her light brown hair. Her hair was natural–she didn’t colour it. Despite my proximity, she ducked under my arm, evading me like I wasn’t there. How was this possible? She didn’t even glance up.

As the rest of the team headed out of the break room, I actually called out and asked, “Joining us?”

She didn’t look up, busy on her phone and then haughtily said, “no thank you. I don’t drink that.”

That. The offer was apparently offensive to her. 

I don’t know, I suppose it made me angry. I am well aware that my reaction was irrational, but I couldn’t understand how she didn’t bother looking at me. How my presence didn’t matter to her. How my voice didn’t interest her. Nothing about me seemed to appeal to her.

For whatever odd reason, it felt like a rejection.

Looking back now, I realise that it’s irrational. She didn’t even know who I was back then. But in the moment, it felt like she walked away from me when I tried to open up to her. I was there for her–I wanted to get to know her better, I wanted her interest. 

So I spent $138 bucks on coffee for the team that day and she didn’t even come along. 

The only plausible reason that I could think of that explained her disinterest was that she was in a relationship, and she was in love with another man.

Which, truthfully, was unacceptable.

I didn’t even consider it as a possibility, until I spotted her looking at her phone in the hallway later that day. She was smiling at whatever she was looking at, and had a doe eyed look of love on her face. I didn’t know what to do with myself then. It was like an anvil was pounding inside my head, blasting me with unwanted thoughts: she is with someone. She is in love with him. They’ll be getting married. She belongs to another man. She is smart, beautiful and successful, why would she be single?

No. This was unacceptable. No. No.

I was consumed by jealousy and resentment. And for once, at a loss at what to do. 

If she was involved with someone, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

But just in a nick of time, I stopped myself and ordered my brain to think rationally. Difficult, under the circumstances, but not impossible. 

I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down. I walked, softly, like I always did, and glanced at her phone. I expected a text message from someone named ‘Mike’ or ‘Boyfriend’ or something silly like that. Instead, to my immense relief, there was an ugly flat-faced dog staring at me. It was a photo of a dog–bulldog? Pug? Frenchie? I wasn’t sure. I was too elated.

I just walked past her, grinning to myself.

It was just a stupid dog.

But boy, would I have given anything to have her phone light up with my name.

Was that the day I became obsessed?

I can’t be sure now, but I do know that this was the day when instead of driving home, I took the Blue Line, standing on the other side of the car and watched her. I mean, clearly I was doing it for her own protection. It was after 7pm, the office crowd was thinning, and this was a beautiful woman with an expensive bag and $500 dollar shoes. She was as oblivious, it seemed, as she was in the office, her nose buried in her Kindle. For the love of god, she read a lot. I wonder what it was that was keeping her attention like that? Romantasy? A Court of Thorns and Roses? The Fourth Wing? Zodiac Academy? 

My brother Cassian loves all that shit and is active on some Romantasy Discord! no less. Pretending to be a woman, I think. He also has some strong opinions about ‘ships’ - yes, he needed to explain all that to me, and once he did, I was the unfortunate springboard for his ramblings. Apparently, he was and still is into ‘Elriel’, which is not something I needed to dig deeper into. But I think it was a fantasy couple? I am not sure. But Elain seemed to be just as transfixed by her Kindle as my brother was by his. 

I watched her and saw how she smiled softly to herself from time to time. I watched her cheeks grow pink. I watched her tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

That was my job.

I wanted to know what page she was on, so I could read it and do that to her.

I wanted her to bite her lower lip like that, and I wanted to tuck her hair away from her face, because she was watching me. Because I was making her feel squirmy and shy. Not some beefy winged Fae warrior.

I followed her discreetly. If you want to trail someone, but look nonchalant doing it, buy yourself a cup of coffee–that puts people at ease. It’s not like a stalker would be drinking coffee or anything absurd like that! 

She stopped by Smoke Daddy and picked up a prepared bag, and fuck did I want a brisket sandwich at that moment! It would’ve been nice to go home with her, have a nice BBQ dinner, watch some news, sports, kiss, drink a couple of beers and then fuck like animals on the rug, before going to bed and falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

I had trailed her for the next ten days.

It became a routine. I got her home safe and sound, making sure that no one bothered her.

She lived in an old Chicago brown brick three-story building, but it was newly refurbished and obviously nice inside. At least it had a security system! Phew. I’d cut a bitch if it didn’t.

She didn’t have much of a social life, but I couldn’t blame her because we worked 10-12 hour days 5 days a week. And then I saw her answering emails and submitting reports until 10pm almost daily. 

A couple of times, even though she hadn’t ‘met’ me, I sent her stern instructions not to work on Friday nights or weekends. I think that scared her. Good. She should know who the boss was.

She didn’t work out, she didn’t do pilates, she didn’t run. 

She didn’t cook much either. There was a cheapish all-you-can-eat sushi place on Division that she favoured, but because she ate alone, she sat at the sushi bar. I followed her there and watched her. She played on her phone and watched dog videos on IG. Sometimes, she cried when she watched them. I wondered what made her so sad. 

She was a quiet, sad and lonely girl. For some reason, it didn’t surprise me.

The dog’s name is Chapo. He looks like a Chapo, if I am being honest. He is what is often described as ‘thicc’. A large brown-tan Frenchie, who belongs to Elain’s sister. 

By the time I’d ‘met’ Chapo, following Elain and inserting myself into her life, while she had no idea and didn’t know that she was being observed, became somewhat of an addiction. I loved it. It was secret and subversive and it gave me pleasure. Perhaps, looking back at it now, it made me feel a little less lonely. Even though I only observed her, it gave me purpose in my own life. It offered me companionship, however one-sided it was. For once, I had something better to do than worry about work. Besides, this solitary activity, which was exclusively mine, suited my character. I didn’t get bored of her boring life. It was actually kind of peaceful.

I was pleased to find that Elain was desperately single. 

Despite her prettiness, she came off as shy, but also kind of standoffish. When the weekend came, I pondered whether I should take a break from my spying, but I was not going to rest until I was assured that she didn’t have a man. Technically, it was still possible. They might have had a ‘weekend hookup’ type of a relationship. It wasn't unheard of. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect, because there was no routine on the weekend and I feared that I’d end up sitting in my car for the whole day, and she wouldn’t even come out. She seemed like a homebody type, so it was highly likely that that would happen. 

But see, the gods were in my favour.

The fact that she left the house right after I came over, following an early gym session, just cemented my belief in that this was sanctioned. That she belonged to me. That I meant to guard her and protect her and then make her mine. This wasn’t a fluke. 

When I saw her that Saturday morning, wearing jeans and a corduroy jacket, all I could do was smile. It’s like she sensed me. Like she wanted me to see her. 

She went to the bakery, got herself coffee and a whole bag of pastries–this girl was not shy about cake and pastry consumption, if I may say so myself–and then headed out. 

She was pretty oblivious to her surroundings as always, and to add to her usual ding-a-ling attitude, she had her earbuds in. Was it scary that she had no concept of her surroundings? Absolutely. Good thing, then, that she had me.

I met Chapo that very day. 

Elain and her sister met in a dog park, and chunky Chapo got a pup cup and a dog cookie. That explained the bakery bag–Elain also handed a croissant to her sister. Chapo was running around with other dogs and I heard Elain call him over as ‘Chapi’, worrying that he’d get hurt. He stood his own though, rolling around, wrestling with other dogs, and being absolutely incapable of catching a ball that Elain and her sister were tossing at him. If I am being objective, ‘Chapi’ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, because how are you a dog and you can’t catch a ball? And then, he almost blew my cover too. I was sitting on a bench, pretending like one of the dogs was mine, and staying out of sight, until he missed his ball yet again, and it rolled towards me. Seriously, this was like the 12th time he completely failed at catching it. So he trotted towards me, his gait a bit sideways, then stopped and earnestly looked into my eyes. His big bat ears flexed and then he ‘smiled’ a huge smile at me, proud of his crooked little teeth. Before Miss Oblivious could see me, I threw the ball away and he ran after it. It’s not like she even knew who I was, because god forbid she’d pay attention and actually have any idea who her boss was, but still, better safe than sorry. 

I watched Chapo run back, with his ball finally firmly in his possession, acting like he’s been catching it all day long. Elain hefted him in her arms and rocked him like a baby, covering him with kisses. 

I’ve never been jealous of a dog, even Valentino’s pugs or the Queen’s corgis, but that day, I was jealous of Chapo the Frenchie. I also told myself that when I kissed her, she better wash her face and mouth prior. And then, as I watched her bounce Chapo on her hip, I decided then and there that she would be the mother of my children.

It was 6:37am and I entered the cafe in our office building. It was moderately busy, but I knew that Elain would be there by now. I wasn’t wrong. She was standing by the bar, and I watched the barista set an espresso in front of her. I sidled over to the bar, kind of muscling people out of my way. I wanted to see if she’d notice me now? 

‘An espresso,’ I ordered, leaning over the polished wood, pretending to check my phone.

Elain’s big brown eyes slipped over my body, her expression disinterested and absent. She tipped her tiny cup back, grabbed her bag, and the cappuccino and left with a brief ‘thanks!’ to the barista.

So much for me hoping that I’d make an impression. 

It was that day when I summoned her to my office for the first time.

She was nervous. Surprised. Unsure of herself.

I made her feel special because I wanted to build a rapport with her. I wanted her to trust me. I wanted her to come to depend on me. 

She was quiet and tense, and I could see that she didn’t know what to say to me, but I wanted to see what she’d think of on her feet. I thought that her question about how to succeed in the company was a good one. And then, to my inner sadistic delight, she absolutely hated being corrected. And I was fucking ruthless. I don’t feel bad about that. 

The Holiday Party at the North Pond was initially a drag, which morphed into animalistic anticipation once I realised that I’d have the opportunity to spend time with Elain one on one. Sure there would be eyes on us, but I knew that most people wouldn’t give us a second thought. And me? Oh, I had all sorts of ideas. 

I was going to be nice. I was going to be charming. I was going to show her a whole new side of me. The side that she’d fall in love with. The side she’d want. The side that she’d seek out for support and assistance and guidance. The side that she’d want to curl up to when she was tired and stressed. 

Tension radiated through me for the past two weeks.

I was moving into a new position with a lot more responsibilities and was going to be under more scrutiny simply because I was going to be in charge of a very large fund. It didn’t worry me per se, however, the whole Elain thing gnawed at me day in and out. She consumed me. She consumed my thoughts, she consumed my dreams. Pussy lost all meaning and attraction to me, whilst I’d beat myself off raw to the fantasy of those big brown eyes and her innocent little face. I didn’t want to fuck anything or anyone, exept for my hand to the thoughts of Elain’s perfect naked body. I wanted to find some solace, a piece of mind, a bit of tranquility in my head, but it was proving very difficult. 

…She was wearing a velvet burgundy dress. Bare arms, a deep V that lovingly displayed her gorgeous breasts and the delicious crater of her cleavage. I didn’t love the length of the dress–it was midi, which made sense in the context of a holiday party, but I would’ve preferred something shorter or floor-length. But I still admired the black and burgundy pumps and how her ankles looked when she crossed her legs.

She was unbearably sexy and I had trouble controlling myself around her, and the fact that there was entirely too much male attention on her, I was not too pleased about. I surely wanted to look at her cleavage, but it seemed that every other buffoon had the same idea. I hovered around her, getting her little plates of appetizers, talking to her, and making sure that no one else dared to approach what was my woman. Oh, they sensed it. The men: they sensed the challenge. But I am big and I am dominant and I am strong, and no one had the balls to test me, or my intentions. All of this was happening on a primal level–I don’t think that any of our co-workers actually thought that I’d be interested in my subordinate. More fools them. But they still avoided Elain for the most part, because I wasn’t looking too friendly, even if it was only instinctual. After all, we were all studs vying for the attention of the same bitch. 

-

Graysen Nolan and Gwyneth Berdara…Ugh. 

Gwyn was a junior analyst, and was probably even more clueless than Elain, and that's saying something. I don’t know how it was possible that she couldn’t read the signs of my disinterest, but alas, I guess it was my burden to carry–dealing with clueless women. 

Elain was at the bar, and I stepped away for literally a second, when I was accosted by Gwyn, who began yapping about mentorships and how she’d like for me to help her with calcs and client engagement. Girl. I am not helping anyone with calcs. I am too fucking old and basic calculations were way past my time. But I nodded and even joined her at the bar, barely tolerating the dull conversation. She was a nice, if overly eager girl, and in any other instance, I probably would’ve thought that she was hitting on me and mentorship was code word for something else entirely. But, god help me, she actually wanted me to mentor her. Wanted me to show her spreadsheets, and how to pull information efficiently, and what I thought would work best for the clients in terms of presentation. I barely heard her, because it was then that Graysen fucking Nolan sidled over to my girl and started talking to her. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo that she was off limits. She’s been throwing shy, furtive glances my way, her cute little nose wrinkling a little when she looked at Gwyn, who was babbling away next to me. 

Could it be? Could my pretty girl be a little bit jealous? However, it seems like she also didn’t the memo that she belonged to me and shouldn’t have been accepting drinks from other men.

I couldn't help but sneer at the fucking cheap drink that he got her. A GnT no less–not everyone’s favourite, and obviously not Elain’s. Graysen was oblivious though. Fucking figures. 

I was still pissed off though. Especially when Graysen–I am pretty sure about that–propositioned her. I could see how she got all red and awkward and guilty-looking. Oh yeah. Be afraid.  I was angry alright. Not that anyone could tell. I’ve learned long ago to keep my face unreadable and generally pleasant looking. So she had no idea that I was fuming inside. 

The moment she got off the bar stool and stumbled, with Graysen grabbing at her, I was done with this shit. She swayed when she walked to the bathroom and I managed to get Graysen involved in a conversation with one of the guys from Investments. By the time I turned around, Elain was back, sitting at the bar, her cheek propped on her hand, her eyes closed. I chuckled. She was drunk as a skunk.

I approached her slowly, watching her eyes pop open and look at me with a bleary expression.

“You are hammered,” I told her.

She huffed and began arguing instantly.

“I am not! I am perfectly fine.”

“Stand up then,” I ordered her and she immediately hefted herself out of her chair, attempting to stand straight. She failed. She wobbled and swayed, and I saw an opportunity when it presented itself to me. I wrapped my arm around her, resting my hand on her hip. Her soft breasts almost pressed into my chest. She was soft all over, soft and pliant and needy. I could sense it. I could’ve probably turned her around right now and hiked up her burgundy dress and exposed her lovely ass to the cold air. I probably could’ve fucked it too. I briefly pondered if she’s been fucked in the ass before, but quickly dismissed the idea as insane. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a virgin everywhere. I didn’t think so–some douche probably got to my cherry before me–but that didn’t stop me from imagining how I’d part her pale cheeks and watch her little pink hole quiver in terror. As it should. My hand deftly brushed against the curve of her spine, my touch light and unthreatening, and I smirked to myself, thinking that she had no idea what was on my mind. I was going to fuck her ass hard–she’d cry and beg me to stop and she’d complain that it hurts. But I’d fuck her until she’d start whimpering and whining ‘more, Azriel. Please. More.’ I’d be a gentleman, of course. I’d fuck the tiny pink hole until it was gaping from my dick. And once I was done and she was freshly ass-fucked, she’d turn to me and shyly, sweetly whisper ‘thank you, Azriel. I am yours.’ 

“Looks like you are hammered,” was all I said. My dick was getting hard and it was a little early for all that.

She was still arguing about her state of inebriation with me, though I wasn’t listening. I was inhaling her sweet floral scent, the whiff of alcohol and the burnt sugar from the creme brulee that she had for dessert. She didn’t even notice it when I placed both of my palms on her hips. When she talked, she attempted to gesticulate and in combination with her swaying, her tits jiggled and bounced. I pretended not to notice. I was going to fuck them too. I wanted to see her nipples–pink, probably, hopefully nice and plump, just like I liked it. I imagined being deep inside her tight, warm ass, pounding steadily, stretching her on my cock. I imagined her huge brown eyes watching me, blinking and wet with tears, the eyelashes sticky. I imagined her pink mouth open and gasping, whispering desperately ‘please Azriel. It hurts. It’s too big. Please. I can’t. It’s too deep. Please, no.” Of course it was going to be too big for her, and I’d burrow as deep as I possibly could. Her pleas would fall on deaf ears though–she could whine and sob all she wanted. I’d be busy sucking those jiggly tits of hers, riding her ass, making her realise who she belonged to with each thrust. 

“I am taking you home,” I said abruptly. I needed to separate from her for a second, and get myself together. My mind was running wild. 

“No, no, I can’t go with you,” she protested feebly. Like I’d listen.

She then had the audacity to add, “No, you can’t take me home. I am not allowing you to.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I wasn’t asking for permission,” I reminded her. 

I half-dragged her to the coat room, and left her sitting there, while I went to gather all her stuff. 

I needed to figure out my next moves. 

I desperately wanted to fuck her, but it was more than that–I wanted to possess her. I wanted to own her. I wanted her to be mine. I needed her to fall for me, even despite all her reservations. She told me that she didn’t like me and that I was mean to her. It wasn’t untrue, and I could see why she’d think that, but she didn’t understand that to love me, she had to know and see all my sides. And I had way more bad sides than the good.

I kind of wanted to have her sober our first time. Where there is definitely something absolutely amazing about fucking a totally compliant woman, who’d do whatever you want her to, and I certainly wanted my Elain to be like that–giving, and obedient, and submissive. Fighting me a little, but having all her holes ready and softened for me, opening herself up to my invasion, taking everything that I was ready to give her. A bit of resistance was always nice, but I expected total submission afterwards. I knew she’d give it to me. She was naturally compliant. She was a pleaser. Dominating her would be an absolute joy. But I wanted a sober submission.

There was a way to do it: make her think that she wanted it herself. Take it. Film it. It was the most ruthless way of buying her compliance, but I wasn’t above resorting to it in order to get what I wanted. 

By the time I grabbed her stuff: purse, shawl, phone, I still hadn't made a decision on how to proceed. 

Elain was dozing off where I left her, her eyes closed, her expression peaceful.

She was so beautiful.

I told her that earlier today. I know that she was surprised to hear it. I don’t think that she was completely oblivious to her own attractiveness, but she certainly didn’t expect that kind of praise to come from me. It was amazing how she still didn’t pick up on the signs and didn’t understand that I was interested in her. 

I punched in the code on her phone and scrolled through her photos and contacts.

The photos didn’t surprise me–there were hundreds of Chapo. Chapo sleeping. Chapo sitting, Chapo running. Chapo in outfits. Chapo in a bath. Chapo eating. Elain hugging Chapo like she was about to squeeze the life out of him. There were photos of her with her sisters–I could see the resemblance even though Elain was the prettiest. Selfies in different outfits. No photos with any men. 

Her eyes opened and her expression turned dismayed. She realised what I was doing and that it was her phone and jumped from the seat, trying to grab the phone away, but she only succeeded in falling into my chest and allowing me the opportunity to hold her close, while I looked at the contacts and deleted those she didn’t need to have. She just glared at me with derision and disbelief, like this was the most shocking thing she’s ever seen. 

Lover-boy Graysen, who dared to paw at something that didn’t belong to him, was the first one to go. The thing is–Elain belongs to me. I knew it then, I know it now. But it’s not a one way street. I belong to her just as well. She is mine. But I am also hers. Graysen never played by the same rules and all he wanted to do was take her for a ride. I could ride her infinitely better than he ever could, but I’d give her much more than that. 

I deleted Eris. Isaac. Aggressively sexual Tarquin, who’s been hanging out at our break room a little too often for my liking. 

Also, did she have the names of every able bodied male in her phone? Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she was texting with anyone. Nor would she. 

“Who is Ripleigh?” I asked. “Is it a man or a woman?”

“It’s a woman. It’s my aunt!” she screeched. 

She wasn’t lying. It actually said ‘Aunt Ripleigh’ in the contacts, but I wanted to test her. I smiled, dropped the phone in her purse and went to get our coats. 

I enjoyed watching her discomfort as we walked out of the park. The poor thing really thought that I’d just dump her in an Uber and let her be. But even worse, she was forced to hold on to me, because I was a gentleman and I offered her my arm, which she reluctantly threaded her hand through. We walked in silence, as I allowed her to adjust to the inevitability of what was about to transpire. She was alone with me, the one she feared, and maybe hated, and it was my arm she was leaning on, and it was my body behind which she huddled to escape the unforgiving wind. I bet she didn’t know how she managed to end up in this situation, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her predicament. Poor thing. In way over her head. 

There was another test that I was going to put her through. The outcome would tell me a lot about how she felt, even if she fought it. 

She surprised me though, even before we got in the car. We stood waiting for the Uber to arrive when she suddenly said “You talked to Gwyn a lot tonight”.

That floored me. Good thing that she had her head pressed to my shoulder and her eyes closed. Because honestly, I am not sure if I could’ve played it off cool. 

Was she actually…jealous? I didn’t know how to respond to her just yet, so I deflected and asked her about Graysen instead. That little prick did attempt to ask her out. I’d have to remind him that interoffice romances were highly discouraged. They weren’t, technically. Especially because Elain and he were colleagues and peers. They could date if they wanted to. She and I–we were a problem of course. I was her boss. She was a subordinate. She was someone I selected myself for my team. Sure, I’d get in trouble if we were discovered, but I was a man and I was liked and respected in the company, and I was a managing partner. Men like me could and did get away with a lot of things. It would be much harder for her. A woman in a very large, prestigious financial institution, getting promoted within a year…The optics weren’t good for her. And just another way for me to keep her quiet once I made her mine.

The fight went out of her pretty quickly once we were in the car. I know that she was tired and cold and sleepy. She knew that I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t sure if she even believed that I’d leave her once we arrived at her place. Instead, she did exactly what I wanted her to do–she passed the test. 

Her head fell on my shoulder and her hand on my thigh. She fell asleep on me. Because deep down, she trusted me. I’d have to think about it and unpack it later on. There was a lot happening tonight and I wasn’t ready to address her behaviour fully. 

Don’t worry. I didn’t rape her. 

Not technically.

And not because of morals, or anything idiotic like that. Mostly because of awareness. 

At the end of the day, I wanted her to know that it was me. I wanted her to be conscious. I wanted her to be…well, willing or unwilling, that didn’t really matter to me–but present and succumbing. 

She was out by the time we parked by her house. Good thing I knew where she lived, what floor her apartment was on and how to get inside. I rummaged through her purse, got the keys out, while she hung onto me sleepily, snorting softly into my arm. I got us inside and lifted her in my arms, carrying her upstairs. 

The only holiday decoration that she had inside was a string of lights around the window. It helped me orientate myself in the apartment and I carried her to the bedroom. I left her on the bed and went exploring. 

The apartment was large for a single woman–it was completely remodelled, while maintaining some of the old Chicago charm. I knew she wasn’t poor and considering how much she was making, she could afford it. However, I also did some background digging and learned that Elain Archeron and her two sisters grew up in Winnetka, IL, in a mansion that overlooked Lake Michigan and that their father was the CEO of a major global shipping company. Of course the sisters went to New Trier High School–one of the best in the country. The funny thing is that we were basically neighbors–I graduated from the same school a year before she started 9th grade. I wondered if my father knew hers? They were probably members of the same Glencoe Golf Club. I usually didn’t believe in coincidences, but as our worlds narrowed more and more, I was beginning to believe that perhaps, this was all meant to be. That maybe, this was destiny. 

On the surface, the place was tidy and neat. Bookshelves with popular novels–romantasy, by the looks of it. Cassian would love it here! Apparently she also needed three Kindles–one at the little reading nook by the window, another on the kitchen counter and the third was on her nightstand. But the more I explored the more it became obvious that things weren’t as neat and tidy as I first thought. She clearly didn’t have the time or the energy to decorate for Christmas. The trendy herb garden in the kitchen was wilting: the chives half-dead, the basil yellowing, the parsley limp. I grabbed a glass and watered all of them. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. I could see a layer of dust on the credenza, and on the family photos. Chapo was prominently featured in almost all the pictures. I would need to do something about this dog. She was clearly obsessed with him. The rug could use a vacuum and even though there was a shoe rack in the entry closet, sneakers and booties and boots were piled haphazardly by the door. 

Perhaps, she wasn’t handling things as well as I’d assumed she was. 

It didn’t make me want to go easier on her, but I’d have to make some considerations. I looked at my phone, and though she didn’t deserve it, I decided to take one of her reports and finish it up myself. She still needed to re-do the UBS report though and I wasn’t going to take that off her plate.

I removed my suit jacket, my tie, my belt, my shoes and walked back to the bedroom. 

The bed was unmade–we’d need to discuss it later. Discarded options for this night’s outfits were dumped on the bed and the chair–a green dress, a couple of black dresses, a sparkly number, and a red pantsuit. I picked them all up and went into her closet to hang them. And then I started on her–I lifted her torso off the bed and tugged her coat off. Then I removed her shoes and her scarf. The dress rode up her legs, above the knees and I sat on my hunches, admiring the view. She was soft and her chest rose up and down evenly and I couldn’t help myself and cupped her breast in my palm, squeezing gently. She hummed and her eyes opened. She looked up at me, confused, while I rubbed her nipple with my thumb, caressing her breast. Would she suck my cock if I pushed it in her mouth right now? Probably not well, but I could fuck her mouth and come all over her face, just to make it known that it happened. She licked her lips, her gaze unfocused. 

“What are you doing here?” she murmured.

“Shhh, sleep, baby,” I urged her. 

She nodded.

“Do you want my cock in your mouth?” I asked casually.

She seemed to think about the proposal for a moment and then argued, “I don’t think I am supposed to…”

“But I give you permission?” I pressed, feeling her up in search of a zipper. “What if I say that you should suck it and that you should please me?”

She draped her arm around my neck, while I unzipped her dress and pulled it down her torso. 

“You’d be pleased with me?” she confirmed.

I nodded.

“Very.”

She sighed and yawned.

“I want to please you,” she admitted. “You are scary…But you are handsome,”

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded vigorously.

“I like you…but I hate you too.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Do you like me?” she asked, her voice both sleepy but also hopeful.

“Oh, I like you a lot.”

She smiled and then plopped back down on the bed. 

I smiled and stroked her cheek.

“You’ll suck everything, sweetheart,” I whispered in her ear, inhaling her scent deep into my lungs. “Even things you never imagined sucking before.”

She was almost nude, wearing only a black lace bra, same style underwear and nude pantyhose. 

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Even if she wasn’t going to get my dick in her mouth tonight, I was going to get my hands on her tits. I ripped her hose off impatiently, rolling them down her legs and then pushed my face into the warm, damp crotch. I bit her pussy lips through the lace. I pulled on the band and lifted the material up, so I could see. Puffy pink pussy, no hair. Not shaved, but removed professionally. I rolled the panties down and then shoved her legs apart, opening her up. I needed to see. Impatiently, I pulled her lips apart, wider and wider, until she lay splayed like an open book in front of me. She was wet and pink and I pinched her clit between my fingers, squeezing hard. She jerked on the bed and moaned loudly. I pressed her knees to the mattress and placed her hands on top, so she looked like she was holding herself wide open for me. My head went quiet. The way I was going to destroy this pussy…even the thought alone made my cock ache something brutal. 

I cupped her whole pussy in my hand and squeezed, getting my palm wet with her juices.

“My cunt,” I whispered in her ear. “My woman. All of you are mine.”

I licked my hand, tasting her, and then took off my shirt, and my trousers. I wanted to feel her skin next to mine. I didn’t plan to stay for the night, but now, my plans have changed. 

I rolled her over on her stomach because I wanted to see her other hole. There was something exhilarating about using her and her body any way that I wanted. I sat on the bed, and lifted her hips, until her round pale ass was up in the air. I spread her legs wider, and then slowly pulled her cheeks apart. 

Oh yes. I grinned to myself. Also mine.

I was rough, pulling on her tiny hole with my fingers, until her hips rose and shifted instinctually, and I watched her squeeze the bedding nervously. I spat on her hole and it twitched, as saliva slid down between her cheeks and towards her pussy. I watched the slow progression, before reaching between her thighs and dipping both of my thumbs into her opening. I pulled her apart, as wide as she would go. There was something insane about watching her hole ripple and then looking inside of her. I could see inside her body, the place where my children would come from. I spat again and it oozed inside of her and I murmured, “that’s my good girl. Keep it inside. Until you are ready for more.”

I rolled her again and her tits flopped heavily side to side. I climbed on top of her and kissed her neck. I kissed her ear, her forehead. I gathered her breasts in my hands and then I began to suck.

-

That Monday, after the party, after I spent the night with Elain, after I looked inside her womb and sucked on her tits like they were last meal, I didn’t expect her to show up at work. I checked my email a couple of times over the weekend, to see if she was going to request a day off and I was not going to grant it. Sadly, it was not to be. 

She came as always, on time, or rather, earlier than almost everyone. She was dressed in all black–a black turtleneck, black trousers, black boots, and three strings of pearls. Her hair was curled and covered her cheeks and her neck. She was hiding. She was wearing armour, trying to push me back and hide the evidence of our night together. All the hickeys, all the bites, all the scratches.

We had a 7:30 am meeting with Switzerland and everyone piled into the conference room at 7:15am.

I decided to make the official announcement about my team before the meeting started.

“Good weekend everyone?” I asked.

There were groans and nods and complaints about holiday shopping. Elain remained quiet, eyes firmly on her laptop.

“Elain?” I asked her after some time.

She looked up at me, lips pursed together, glowering.

“I’ve had better,” she sneered.

“Oh really? That’s a shame,” I shook my head. “I guess we’ll work harder next time to make sure you have a great weekend.”

She almost gasped in horror.

I smiled.

“Now,” I looked at the team. “I wanted to start off by announcing that I’ve made my preliminary assessments of everyone’s capabilities, strengths and weaknesses on the team. The following people will be joining me and will be reporting to me.”

I rattled out a bunch of names: traders, brokers, auditors, administrators, analysts and transfer agents. 

Graysen jumped up, his face screwed up,

“I am sorry, you are choosing Elain over me??”

“Is there a problem?” I queried.

“I have seniority! I have more experience. I’ve been busting my a-,”

“I don’t care what you’ve been busting,” I told him sternly. “My mind is made up. Her reports are timely, thorough, supported with good data and I trust her calculations,” I explained.

“No, you needed a token chick on the team!” Graysen sneered.

“Sit down,” I ordered him. “If you have a problem with my decision making, take it up with Rhysand. Are we clear? Elain’s been punctual, precise, and delivered excellent work. I expect all of you to treat her with respect and we will all have a great year. Remember the potential, guys. Some of you are looking at some major bonuses. Let’s start the year off running.”

There were fist pumps, and loud cheers and applause. 

Elain was red-cheeked.

But I wasn’t going to let anyone think anything less of her just because she was a woman. She was my woman. But she was also my employee and my team member. I didn’t care if this was a boys’ club. She belonged here, with us.

After the meeting, which went well, I watched her walk back to her cube.

I smiled.

I was in for the long run.

I was going to break her.

I was going to make her mine.

But first, I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts, finding the cleaning service that I used. 

I ordered a bi-weekly house cleaning for Elain. And then, I pulled up a bunch of food delivery options and started reading. Hello Fresh? Home Chef? Marley Spoon? Whatever I was going to decide on was going to be the best service out there. Only the best for my girl.

[dr-dreaddn]

Everything I liked about THE SEVENTH TEAM FORTRESS 2 ISSUE part 1 (spoilers below cut)

Soldier and Zhanna's Kids! They take after their parents.

Bro literally jumped in front of a plane for her

Scout's crush on Miss Pauling is very well handled 👍

It seems that it was Mann tradition for one of the children to kill their siblings to assert dominance (something the administrator was more than happy to feed into)

Miss Pauling ultimately not giving the administrator the australiaum. Good choice 👍

Olivia Mann gets a conclusion! Saxton Hale became her guardian (because of course) and is possibly achololic. Also, I love her design.