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almostfoxglove · 2 months ago

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ELEVEN STITCHES

as voted for by you for ⭐ my milestone celebration ⭐

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x Reader WORD COUNT: 3k CW: Graphic descriptions of canon-typical injury, blood, gore, and mild body horror. use of restraints (our man's strapped down) this is just fluff with blood.

SUMMARY: After Joel comes back from patrol injured, he wakes up restrained to a bed in Jackson's clinic where you've been tasked with patching him up.

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You’ve never seen him this close. Nor this peaceful: asleep, his lips a breath apart, dark lashes scalloped over his cheeks. Scarred and battered, yes. Tried, yes. Such blue hangs beneath his eyes. But if you squint—blocking out the leather straps and silver handcuffs restraining him to the metal clinic bed—the notorious Joel Miller looks almost sweet. As you pierce him for the first time with the bite of your needle, sewing closed the end of his jagged wound, you almost can’t imagine this guy hurting a fly. He looks so soft.

Then you pull the stitch taut, the chasm of split skin narrowing, a fraction of the slick, red muscle below disappearing. One second out and the next second gasping, Joel Miller shocks to his senses like you’ve electrocuted him, his whole body thrashing against his restraints. You pull your hands back just in time to avoid stabbing him with the needle, catch his brown eyes black with terror—

No, scratch that. With rage.

“Woooah, alright there,” you coo, needle idle in your hand despite the steady drip drip drip of his blood on the floor. “Easy tiger, it’s okay, we gotcha.”

But he’s all animal, all fight. Won’t stop bucking against the leather straps leashed over his shoulders and ribs—his hands ball to fists below their cuffs, metal pinching into joints. It takes him a minute to even register you, too busy writhing, his boots kicking at the end of the bed. Makes a horrible sound. You have to say his name twice to get Joel to turn his head, then it’s over for you. You’re dead.

Or you would be if you hadn’t agreed to let Tommy strap his brother down when they’d dragged his body in. Saying, it’s for the best, doc. Trust me. Just seconds ago the man looked harmless, face slack and unmarred by the creases that now canyon his brow, and yet there’s no denying in this moment that Joel Miller could pull every kind of pain from you. Drain every ounce of your blood.

Smiling calmly in the face of his fit feels not unlike watching a jaguar growl in a zoo behind the safety of a fence: in awe of a predator’s bloodlust and naively unafraid.

“You hit your head on patrol,” you say, and your voice is a lake untouched by weather. The picture of professionalism. “You know where you are?”

He’s gonna break a tooth grinding his teeth like that, but you don’t say. You just watch him blink and scan the room again, his arms taut in their shackles. The injured one is bared for you to work on, unveiling the ropes of muscle and sinew that strangle each other as he struggles. “Jackson,” Joel grits, and fixes you with that ire again as he blinks, lucidity slowly creeping into his eyes. He’d kill you, you think, if he only had a free hand. A free pinky finger. At least until this panic wears off.

“Atta boy,” you smile. “You know your name?”

“Where’s Ellie?”

You click your tongue. “Don’t think that’s it.”

His glare spears through the center of your skull—eyes that know no color but black, two tunnels of wrath-soaked violence. Stubborn, livid, in pain. He rocks his jaw left to right before answering with a stiff, “Joel.”

“Atta boy,” you grin, then return one hand to his arm above the dip in his inner elbow, hopeful Joel might let you resume your work, but he seizes the moment your glove grazes his skin. You don’t remove it. You need to steady him, close him up.

You let out a patient breath. “You remember what happened?”

Something snaps then. His struggling returns with a vengeance, every muscle in his broad body fighting and fighting and fighting to get up. “Where’s—” he sneers, sharper now, “Ellie?”

Again the legs of the clinic bed squeal on the tiled floor, shearing as nails on a chalkboard—your ears tweak.

“Hey—hey, it’s okay. She’s okay,” you hush him, lifting your hand again to show him your palms, your needle pinched between two fingers and attached to the arm he’s yet to notice is bleeding. “She’s alright, didn’t even need a stitch. We checked her for a concussion and she’s clear. You, on the other hand—”

“Take me to her, right now,” Joel growls, more animal than man.

You sigh, draw up restraint from its deep, deep well. “Can’t do that yet, honey. Gotta finish patching you up first, hm? That sound alright?”

Joel’s nostrils flare, upper lip peeling from his teeth as he snarls.

“Take me to Ellie. Right. Fuckin’. Now.”

“And here I was thinking Tommy was fucking with me when he suggested the restraints,” you tease, then soothe the palm of your hand over his bare shoulder. To your dismay Joel only thrashes again, trying to get away, so you set down the needle on the bed beside him and nudge your chair back to give him some air. “Not here to hurt you. But you got cut pretty bad, and I think once this adrenaline wears off you’re gonna be glad you let me finish this before releasing you on the world. But, here. One second—”

You hold up one finger and roll your chair back, kicking yourself over to the clinic room door. With the toe of your shoe, you shove it open a crack, letting in blue fluorescence from the hall. “Ellie?” you call into the corridor.

After a moment of quiet a far-off voice shouts in reply, “What?”

“Say hi to Joel for me, will you honey? Afraid he might Hulk out over here before I get him closed up.” A beat of silence hangs the air in which you peek at Joel with a smirk before Ellie yells out from a distant room,

“I’M FINE JOEL.”

“Thanks, honey,” you call back. When you’ve kicked yourself back to his bedside, Joel has settled to quiet seething. “Better?”

A grunt’s about as much as you could hope for. Smiling, you pluck up your needle again. “Alright. Think we’ve got ten stitches to go. Tell me what you remember.”

“I’m tied down,” Joel says instead, letting his eyes sink closed. Exhausted, you suspect. In no small amount of pain. But he doesn’t jump this time when your hands return to his arm, nor when the needle bites his broken skin. Little wins.

Like magic, you’re a seamstress again. Once upon a time blood turned your stomach—even cheesy horror movies could trigger a storm of nausea—and any needle you took up was destined only to patch a quilt or save someone’s favorite shirt, never their flesh. Times change. Now you can stare down every kind of gore with an iron stomach and eerie calm. Any skin, any body, becomes a project to you when you’re working. Just a little cloth in need of mending.

“Very observant,” you tease with a small chuckle, daring to glance at Joel’s eyes as you pull the next stitch tight. A muscle ticks in his jaw but he doesn’t move. “Humor me a minute longer, okay?”

“There was,” he starts to say, “half a dozen of ‘em, maybe. We were—mmph—a mile out, had this lookout spot on a roof we usually check.”

“Mhm,” you hum, attention fixed on the disappearance of pink.

“Don’t know how they got up there. Thought we had ‘em all but one was hidin’. Knocked me down the—think it knocked me down the fire escape.”

You nod along. “Eight more,” you interject in his next pause. “You remember how you got this?”

As his head turns, Joel’s curls scratch the stiff pillowcase and he looks down at his arm for the first time as if he too is looking at nothing more than an old quilt. Something that’s not quite his, not quite a body. “Was glass on the fire escape,” he mumbles. “Broken window I guess.”

Then he drags his eyes to you, bringing a singeing of a different kind. Maybe your jaw feathers, maybe it doesn’t. But something in your chest undeniably flares. “Well,” you grin. “Think we can rule out memory loss.”

Joel hmphs.

“Got six more.”

You begin the next stitch. More red tissue seams, breathing pride into your bones. Can’t fix much these days, not on any meaningful scale, but you can do this—close one wound. Make one small thing right for the person on your table.

“Gonna untie me?” you hear Joel say.

With a small grin you glance up at him through your lashes. “Gonna lie still?”

His jaw rocks, considering this, maybe swallowing some snarky answer—but in the end he nods. Something hard deflates in his chest, that last pillar of hostility, so you too resign. Set down the needle again; it’ll need to be cleaned. When you stand over the clinic bed the weight of him watching you grows heavier and heavier until flicking open the buckles that cross his chest becomes an arduous task, your hands slow like they’re pushing through water. The metal clink of each loosening clasp is deafening. Then the thud of the leather belts slinking away, dropping to the floor. You pluck the key for the cuffs from your silver tray, toggle open each round jaw, and Joel lifts the arm that isn’t bleeding just enough to roll his wrist out, opens and closes his fist.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Sure thing.”

Gloves snap off and a new pair snaps on. You dunk the needle into a small bowl of vodka—it’s not perfect, but you make do, grateful for whatever supplies find their way to you—and at your side Joel remains stationary like he promised. A man of his word.

“We met before?” he asks, as you return to your stool. A voice like that oughta be bottled—coarse and deep and dragged through rubble. It could do terrible things to you, now that you’re listening. Now that you’re aware of being observed—feeling the tables have turned, that you’re the one being observed.

You don’t look at him. You stitch the quilt, bid adieu to thinning red tissue. “I haven’t worked on you before today,” you say evenly.

Joel goes quiet again.

“Four more,” you go on, pulling the thread.

“Don’t know your name,” Joel says.

“Like I said, honey,” you reply. “First time patient.”

Below your hands Joel’s arm twitches at honey, or else it looks like it does, but he keeps it where it lays. “Meant outside of here,” he says.

A grin tucks into your cheek as you shake your head. “Seen you around,” you admit, eyes fixed on his closing wound. “But no. Not officially.”

You swear you feel him squint even though you can’t see his face, not hunched over like this, focused. “Officially,” Joel echoes, as if he’s trying out the word. Rolling it on his tongue, getting a taste. It’s a question without the punctuation—he wants you to elaborate.

“Three left,” you tell him, heart quickening.

Another hmph. A wordless press, another way around asking while still asking. Stupid, you flick your eyes to his face for only a moment, find him already staring at you, his eyebrows folded down so thoughtfully.

“Holding up alright?” you say.

“What’s officially mean,” Joel asks.

Two stitches, that’s all. Two little knots and you can cut the thread of this conversation and send him on his way. Catch your breath before it shortens when he’s close enough to hear. You shrug. “Means we haven’t introduced ourselves. Haven’t really spoken before.”

He’s frowning in the corner of your eye. “But we’ve met,” he extrapolates.

“Last one,” you say.

“Dodgin’ my question.”

A traitor, your mouth slips up and grins—brief but telling, that shy tense of your cheek. “Barely,” you reply, pinching the needle through his arm once more. You secure the final knot with a small tug and reach behind you for the scissors, then snip. Project done. Quilt mended.

“Alright, just need to clean and wrap it and you’ll be a free man,” you tell him, rolling yourself back on the stool to browse your tray of supplies. Your fingers dance briefly over the gauze and medical tape as you consider your instruments, all the final touches necessary to make things tidy and neat.

Behind you, the clinic bed squeaks as Joel shifts but you don’t hear his boots touch the floor.

When you roll back to his bedside, he’s sitting up, one leg hinged on the papery bedsheet and the other hooked over the edge at the knee, his boot swaying and laces hanging loose like two long streamers. Impatience bleeds across his face, and though it’s not quite anger in his eyes you nonetheless feel something in your body straighten. Sitting like this, Joel looms over you and your stool. No longer shackled, filthy and blood stained. Dangerous.

This isn’t fear, though—it’s something worse.

You hold out one gloved palm, closing your fingers twice in a silent give it here and Joel obeys, setting his forearm in your hand. Warm and heavy and tense—muscle ticking as you drag the alcohol-soaked pad across his stitches.

Your silence broods in the stale clinic air. A vapor you can feel on your skin.

“I was a dick, then,” Joel presses, breaking the uneasy quiet. He’s looking down at his arm as you wind stripe after stripe of stale gauze around the trunk of his injury as if entranced. As if shy. As if ashamed.

“Wasn’t your fault,” you surrender.

“Doubt that.” A dry chuckle follows, to your surprise. Such a warming sound.

Perhaps unprofessional, you laugh softly too and Joel’s head lifts at the sound. “You, uh—” you begin to say, pausing to find the right word. When you’ve got him wrapped well enough, you clip the gauze from the roll. “ We ran into each other in the mess hall, sorta bowled me over. Don’t think either of us was looking where we were going.”

You leave out the bit where he’d spat out watch it as he went, not slowing down for a second. Even then you didn’t blame him—sure, you’d bristled. Frowned, even, as he glared back at you over his shoulder. But he’d been with Tommy, clearly in the middle of some argument, and the anger he swung at you was wrongly aimed. You didn’t care. Later you even found it kind of funny. You’d glimpsed him for years at a distance, heard whispers, and more than a few of your friends had expressed hopeless infatuations with the inscrutable eldest Miller. Reporting that you’d run straight into his solid chest by accident had all of you laughing.

Joel looks to be remembering. Or rather he appears to be failing to, scowl deepening as you tuck the bandage’s end. Without thinking, you bend over to reach for his boot and retie his lace. There. Safe, secure. Fixed.

“Voila,” you say, then push yourself back from him with a smile. “You are good to go.”

But he doesn’t move. Joel just sits there with his wrapped arm—his bare arm—resting in his lap, twisting one way and then the other, fidgeting. Eyes ticking between bandage and boot, perhaps surprised. “Don’t remember that,” he says. Like this you can see the crown of his head, all those silver laced locks that lick up in all curling directions, tousled and untamed after patrol. His broad frame droops as he sinks into something that looks too much like shame.

Shaking your head is pointless; he isn’t looking at you. “Was more than a year ago, honey,” you say. “And it really wasn’t anything. I laughed about it, promise.”

Before he can answer, the door swings wide and a grin appears in its frame, squared by that eerie blue light. Ellie’s hair is getting long, the front bits tied back from her face, and the side of her baggy shirt is stained with darkness—Joel’s blood, if you had to guess. Long dry.

“Hi,” she says to you, eyes round like she’s surprised to find you’re still here, since Joel’s clearly handled.

“How ya feeling?” you ask.

A short nod, mischief in her grin. “Pretty good.” Then she turns her attention to Joel. “I’m starving.”

So you stand to give them some privacy, collecting everything from your tray that needs cleaning up, bagging the small mountain of red-stained scraps that had mopped the worst of the blood. Another metal creak, then the thump of Joel’s boots as he stands. You hear Ellie say, “Thanks, doc,” and twist over your shoulder to give her a wave.

The door swings closed.

“I wanna see those stitches in a week,” you tell Joel, busy with your tools. “But take the wrap off in a day or two, keep it dry. If you have any trouble—”

“I know where to find you,” he finishes.

He’s almost grinning when you turn your head, eyes crinkled but lips flat, pulling the second sleeve of his flannel back on. Yes, soft was right. You can see it again, clear as ice or moonshine—the tender center tucked under battered shell.

You watch Joel cross the room with long, loping strides. Your friends might’ve been onto something, unfortunately. You like the shape of him up close, the surety in the way he moves. With his good arm, Joel opens the door and steps into its frame and though you expect him to go without goodbye, he hesitates in the doorway. Props the entrance open with the toe of his boot.

You lift an eyebrow at him and the muscle of his tongue wets his bottom lip in reply. Fine—your friends are definitely onto something. You feel likely to melt if he intends to keep looking at you like this, with something dark in his eyes. Animal of a different kind.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Joel says, voice drawled and low so as not to be overheard, and here’s another peek at that something softer: his lips curling once more, just enough to dimple one cheek. “Promise.”

“See you in a week,” you tell him, and Joel nods before going.

You expect seven days to pass before you see him again.

He comes back in four.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #jackson!joel #fluff fanfic #almostfoxglove #myfics #fic: elevenstitches

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afeelgoodblog · 1 year ago

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The Best News of Last Week

1. Arizona governor Ok's over the counter birth control

Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs (D) has expanded access to over-the-counter birth control that will “soon be available to Arizonans,” according to a press release.

Arizonans 18 and older will soon be able to go to their local pharmacy and purchase oral contraceptives without a doctor’s prescription.

2. ‘Great news’: EU hails discovery of massive phosphate rock deposit in Norway

A massive underground deposit of high-grade phosphate rock in Norway, pitched as the world’s largest, is big enough to satisfy world demand for fertilisers, solar panels and electric car batteries over the next 50 years, according to the company exploiting the resource. About 90% of the world’s mined phosphate rock is used in agriculture for the production of phosphorous for the fertiliser industry, for which there is currently no substitute.

3. U.S. Is Destroying the Last of Its Once-Vast Chemical Weapons Arsenal

Decades behind its initial schedule, the dangerous job of eliminating the world’s only remaining declared stockpile of lethal chemical munitions will be completed as soon as Friday.

4. Chinese scientists create edible food packaging to replace plastic

By incorporating certain soy proteins into the structure, Chinese University of Hong Kong scientists successfully created edible food packaging.

5. World's 1st 'tooth regrowth' medicine moves toward clinical trials in Japan

A Japanese research team is making progress on the development of a groundbreaking medication that may allow people to grow new teeth, with clinical trials set to begin in July 2024. The tooth regrowth medicine is intended for people who lack a full set of adult teeth due to congenital factors.

6. No Longer Endangered: The Bald Eagle is an Icon of the ESA

When the Endangered Species Act (ESA) was enacted in 1973, bald eagle population numbers across the country showed that the species was close to disappearing. Before the ESA, in the 1950s and ‘60s, eagles were shot routinely despite the protection. The ESA listing helped bring public attention to the issue.

Through the early 1970s and into the early ‘80s, numbers increased gradually. Then, as you got into the ‘90s, there was still gradual growth. From the late ‘90s into the 2000s, the population really exploded. There was a doubling rate of every several years or so for a while.

7. Deforestation in Brazil's Amazon drops 34% in first half 2023

Deforestation in Brazil's Amazon fell 34% in the first half of 2023, preliminary government data showed on Thursday, hitting its lowest level in four years as President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva institutes tougher environmental policies.

Data produced by Brazil's national space research agency Inpe indicated that 2,649 square km (1,023 square miles) of rainforest were cleared in the region in the half year, the lowest for the period since 2019.

----

That's it for this week :)

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Also don’t forget to reblog.

#best news of last week

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vicariousresearcher · 2 months ago

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Medic! Reader who Soap constantly sees grabbing at your arms and torso, flexing and contracting with your eyes laser-focused on the screen.

Medic! Reader who is frowning and staring blankly at the monitor, white light pasting you to almost look sickly though that might just be from the lack of sleep. A shitty prop skeleton pulled up beside the desk with sticky notes plastered all over it, more still in your hand.

Medic! Reader who is taking the night shifts so you have time to get this course done, you explain to

Soap when he sees you on the night shift 5 days in a row. Something about a certification that needs you to redo an anatomy and physiology course.

And Soap who jokingly offers to be your dummy, watching his medic’s face for a reaction besides the mild frustration and confusion that seemed to constantly be on it nowadays.

“The neck is considered a first-class lever with the fulcrum being the neck joint, the effort being the neck muscles,” your hands drift down from the back of Soap's skull to his neck. “And the load being the head as a whole.”

“Youse sayin’ I got a fathead?”

“Yes, Soap.”

Though your voice was tired it still held a note of amusement. It had been an hour you’d been at this. Prodding at Soap and going over the part, its functions, problems, and the other information that came to mind. Like the blurting technique or whatever it was called. Seeing what parts you knew and what needed to be read up on again.

Johnny was all the more willing when he got to have your hands on him. Pinching at flexed biceps and pressing fingers along his rib cage to note which ones were connected with costal cartilage directly or indirectly. All he offered was sharp-toothed grins and light questions he didn’t truly care for answers. Just liked when your clinical touches hesitated and dragged when you couldn’t come up with answers.

Your hands went over the base of his spine and up to his hips.

Fingertips pressing in to find the top before tracing down the length. “Then there’s the pelvis. Which is stupid because it’s all one bone but someone decided we need to make name all the parts. Like why do we need-“

“Tryin’ to make 207 bones?” Soap jokes as your hand traced down the crest of the bone and onto his thigh.

“…….”

“……”

“There’s the ilium, sacrum, coccyx, ischium…”

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

Yes this is based off of that one tiktok and yes A&P is positively kicking my ass right now :’)

#tf 141 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #medic!Reader

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radicalreliablerandomness · 1 year ago

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Podcast Rec Masterpost

I've been asked a couple times for podcast recommendations so I thought I'd post a compilation of some shows and a bit of info about them. Most shows I talk about are tagged below (I ran out of tags) so you can look through fan content as well if you're not one to care about spoilers. My asks are still open for personalized recs if you send me some others that you've listened to just because I love you, yes that's right! You. The person reading this right now!

Here goes!

Dungeons And Daddies *not a BDSM podcast

This show is a dnd actual play podcast. The first season is about four dads from our world lost in the Forgotten Realms in search of their lost sons. It’s a comedy but as with all comedies, you will cry by the end of it. It's super easy to get into with great chemistry between all the cast players and the dm, no prior knowledge of dnd is necessary. They do invoke slight horror sometimes so do keep an eye out for content warnings. Season 1 has 68.5 episodes along with bonus content and a mini campaign in between seasons 1 and 2. Season 2 is currently ongoing. Transcripts available.

The Bright Sessions

This is a science fiction podcast. The premise is a collection of clinical recordings of superpowered people's therapy sessions. The plot gets more interesting and convoluted as you get further in. Incredible voice acting filled with emotion. Does have some heavier discussions so be on the lookout for content warnings. It has 7 seasons (the last two are technically not part of the first five seasons' plot) and is completed. Transcripts available.

Hello From the Hallowoods

A post-apocalyptic fiction podcast. A beautifully written and preformed podcast that explores identity, religion, and other themes in vignettes throughout this haunted world narrated by an omniscient being. Some heavier topics are included so check the content warning before each episode. Seasons 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 will be done soon. Transcripts available.

The Magnus Archives

A horror fiction podcast. A well written chronological story told through anthology which seem to be tape recordings from a paranormal investigation institute. Incredible writing and actors that really bring it to life. This is horror so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 5 seasons. Transcripts available.

Neighbourly

Another horror fiction podcast! An interesting look into all the houses on Little Street and their peculiarities. Some more peculiar than others. The podcast is absolutely delightful with a horribly fun narrator. I would suggest checking the content warnings as some episodes are more intense than others. The show has 2 completed seasons. Transcripts available.

The Fall of the House of Sunshine

A musical mystery fiction podcast. The first season is about an investigation on the murder of a beloved host of a children's tooth-themed show. That's all I can say without spoilers. There are 3 incredible seasons along with short stories in between each season. Transcripts available until halfway through season 2.

Welcome to Nightvale

Possibly the most well known science fiction podcast, it really speaks for itself but I'll do my spiel anyways. Recorded as snippets of a daily radio broadcast, the show details the weird goings on in this strange desert town of Nightvale. Narrated almost completely by the radio host's smooth voice. It's ongoing and is currently sitting at 233 episodes. Transcripts available.

The Two Princes

A fictional queer romance podcast. It takes place in that special part of fiction that always starts with "once upon a time," it feels like a story book almost. The show is based around two boys meeting in the woods. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. It's just a cute feel good show. The podcast is complete at 3 seasons. Spotify auto-generated transcripts available.

What's the Frequency?

A self described psychedelic noir podcast. It's an absolute blast even if it is a bit hard to follow. Takes place in the 1940s in LA when all radio broadcasts were turned to static. You kind of just have to go with it until you get to the end. Completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.

Story Break

A writer's room podcast. The basic concept behind Story Break is 3 Hollywood writers in a room together take a prompt and try to make a story for it in an hour. There are many laughs in this podcast and just all around good humor and vibes. The show is complete at 169 episodes plus two full movie scripts. No transcript.

Who Killed Avril Lavigne

A science fiction podcast. It's about a time traveling pop punk loser and that's all you need to know. It's a podmusical so you'll be getting great nostalgic pop punk type songs along with crying from laughing so hard. Completed at 8 episodes. No transcript.

The Behemoth

A fiction podcast. Based around an unexplainable creature emerging from the ocean and how the world, and one girl in particular, deal with this phenomenon. It is pretty short with the longest episode being about 12 minutes. Completed at 20 episodes. No transcript.

Rude Tales of Magic

A dnd actual play podcast. It is mainly focused on the actual roleplay and story telling as opposed to the actual play. A handful of college students from Polaris University fuck the world up by completing a hazing ritual which in this case is a supposedly demon summoning. Obviously now they need to fix the world. Currently 64 episodes and ongoing. No transcript.

Midnight Burger

A very well written fiction podcast. It’s about a time/space traveling diner where the employees try to help solve a problem every place they land. Think Doctor Who adjacent vibes but with more drama. There is an overarching plot that comes together so look out for that. It has incredible characters that are really nicely fleshed out. You’ll somehow like and hate all of them as much as possible in the best way. Currently has 29 episodes of the main feed and a 9 episode mini-series. Transcript available.

Monstrous Agonies

A fiction podcast. It’s an radio advice segment on a station for “liminal Britain” aka the monstrous world to put it plainly. It’s really chill and comforting. There’s very good advice there and the intermittent ad reads will have you giggling to yourself. Episodes are on the shorter side, averaging about 15 minutes each. It does have some heavier discussions so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 111 episodes through 3 seasons. Transcripts available.

Desert Skies

A fiction podcast. The voice acting in this one is incredible, it’s the same person the whole time. The show as a whole is also just super well done. The premise is that when you die you show up on a highway and get to this astral pit stop. I’m not going to spoil it anymore you just have to experience it. There is an additional show, Desert Skies FM that's a buddy to this one. I recommend listening to both. Season 1 was completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.

Wooden Overcoats

A sitcom dramedy podcast. The show is about two siblings that run a funeral home on an island. It used to be the only one, it isn’t anymore. It has a wacky cast of characters and even wackier plot points. The dialogue can be a little hard to get used to at the beginning but once you get into it it flows easily. The show is completed at 4 seasons. Transcripts available.

Greater Boston

An audio drama podcast. It's set in Boston if you couldn't tell from the title and starts with the death of a man on a rollercoaster. It blends real life with some subtle (and at times not-so-subtle) fantasy elements. It's currently at 4 completed seasons. Transcript available.

Gay Future

A science fiction podcast. In a world where everyone is gay in the future we focus on this one straight kid. Following his journey to destroy the government who are making everyone gay. This is a satire by the way. 1 season completed at 6 episodes. No transcripts.

Death by Dying

A dark comedy podcast. The show follows an obituary writer while he does things that are totally under the jurisdiction of his job. A well written and preformed show. There are a lot of laughs and obviously some heartbreaks as well. Currently 1 completed season with season 2 sitting at 2 episodes for a bit now. Transcript available.

Not Another D&D Podcast

An actual play dnd podcast. This one's more mainstream than my other podcasts so I don't talk about it as much but that doesn't mean it's not incredible. The first campaign is about 3 adventurers off to save the world. Obviously. It can be a bit slow in the beginning but anything past the second half of the first season is incredible. There's humor, drama, love, and much more. The DM is also just incredible. 1 completed season, a couple mini campaigns, and the second season is currently at 43 episodes. No transcripts.

Forgive Me!

A fiction podcast. It starts based around vignettes of confessionals in this small town taken by a new father in the local church. An overarching plot is present but it's generally a feel good, sweet and simple show. They have 2 complete seasons with season 3 currently at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.

Real Housewives of D&D

An actual play dnd podcast. This show is based around the concept of a "Real Housewives..." type show but you don't need to know anything about those to listen to this. It's about 4 reality TV stars thrown into a magical fantasy world with no knowledge of how to get home. There's drama, excitement, danger, and lots more. The first season was just completed at 16 episodes. Transcripts available.

The Silt Verses

A horror fiction podcast. Two people who worship a banned god travel together up a river in a pilgrimage. There is incredible worldbuilding in this show along with acting and sound design. This is horror and a very good one at that so make sure you check content warnings. Season 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 is at 2 episodes so far. Transcripts available.

The Land Whale Murders

A comedy fiction podcast. It takes place in the year 1899 and is about a pair of friends? maybe not, that metaphorically explore the world they're living in. It is a commentary on the world we live in and the problems in it through a hilarious and wacky cast. There are currently 17 episodes between both seasons 1 and 2. Transcripts available.

Elaine's Cooking for the Soul

A post-apocalyptic cooking podcast. The show is about a dentist who makes her way through the fallout of an apocalypse while also making a cooking podcast. It does have depictions of violence, war, and dentistry so check out the content warnings. There are 2 completed seasons. No transcripts.

Fawx and Stallion

A mystery podcast. If you hate Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. Also if you love Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. It's based around the detectives who live across the street from Holmes at 224B Baker street. It's pretty goofy. Season 1 is completed. Transcripts available.

The Amelia Project

A fiction podcast. Follow the shenanigans of this death-faking organization as they take in new clients and hear their stories. It does develop an actual overarching plot later on but every second is fun. Seasons 1-4 have been completed and season 5 is in progress. Transcripts available.

A Voice From Darkness

A horror podcast. It's centered around a radio show hosted by Dr. Malcolm Ryder, Parapsychologist. He helps people who call into his show with supernatural problems, gives PSAs and warnings about strange happenings, and more. Season 1 is completed and season 2 is at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.

Station Arcadia

A dystopian fiction podcast. Formatted through a radio show, it tells the story of a world that's slowly dying. There are vignettes of different characters through different areas of the world. Season 1 is completed at 25 episodes. Transcripts available.

Margaret's Garden

A science fiction podcast. It has two plots running at the same time which keeps you on your toes but makes for an intriguing story line. In one plot line, two agents are sent to investigate the strange happenings of a weird little long abandoned town. Simultaneously, we hear from the past of that town as it catches up to the agents. Completed at 10 episodes. Transcripts available.

Camp Here & There

A horror comedy podcast. It's recorded as a set of daily announcements over a loudspeaker at a totally normal summer camp. The announcements are made by the camp nurse and he's also totally normal. I promise. Make sure to check in with the content warnings as some topics are a little mature or graphic. There are currently 34 episodes. Transcripts available.

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye

A companion horror podcast. This is actually a bit meta because it is the result of a youtube series. This show is the one the podcast hosts in the series release, it's definitely worth both the watch and the listen though. It's got werewolves and drama. Completed at 10 episodes of video and 10 of the podcast. No transcripts.

I am in Eskew

A horror podcast. It's about a man who's trapped in a city where the buildings always change and the rain never stops. There's a weird monotonous creeping horror in this show that just draws you in. Check for content warnings definitely. Completed at 30 episodes. Transcripts available.

Traveling Light

A comfy cozy fiction podcast. It follows The Traveller on their exploration through space, visiting alien planets and collecting stories to send back to their community. For supporters of the show, it almost functions as a choose-your-own-adventure with choices to vote on and listener submissions. It's made by the same people as Monstrous Agonies so if you enjoyed that, you'd enjoy this and vice versa. There are currently 16 episodes. Transcripts available.

Not yet described but still recommended:

Eeler’s Choice

The Secret of St Kilda

The Endless Ocean

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio

The Sword & The Stoner

World Gone Wrong: a fictional chat show about friendship at the end of the world

Travelling Light

Waterlogged

Brimstone Valley Mall

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musubi-sama · 9 months ago

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“Classmates”

You are officially Shoko Ieri’s girlfriend, but why are you being followed and gently threatened by two tall, disgustingly handsome men?

CW: afab!reader x shoko ieri, modern au, mild stalking, the boys being intimidating, toys, cunnilingus, shower sex, lady love, mild plot

AN: This is baby’s first fan fic, my first piece of fiction and self-indulgent prose. The world needs more yuri/sapphic/lady stories and I hope I can do it a modicum of justice. I will probably write out the two flashback references as additional chapters once I figure out what I want to do with them.

WC: 4.9k

Next chapter —

“Let’s continue that little thread from last night after classes today?” she responds before pulling away and heading off to the lecture hall. “I’ll make sure to take ‘extra meticulous’ notes for you!” Your girlfriend puts extra emphasis and holds up sassy airquotes (even gives a little sideways nudge with her hip) because she’s notoriously a poor lecture student and you pay attention almost too much and too well, taking notes furiously from your front and center seat.

You give her a cute giggle and wave as she walks away; you’re heading off to meet with your adviser to discuss a research opportunity. While you walk across the quad into the neighboring dining hall to grab your usual Starbucks order (iced caramel machiatto).

Meanwhile, a pair of tall, offensively handsome men doing what would otherwise be a scene from a spy movie, fold the top half of a newspaper down and watch you and Shoko embrace and go your separate ways.

“Suguru, who the hell was that talking to Sho?” the white-haired, ethereally blue eyed man says a bit too loudly to his dark-haired, enigmatically purple eyed friend. The pair sit on the bench gawking, although the dark haired man winces at the volume of his friend.

“You’re going to give us away, shush, Satoru! I don’t know who she is or what that was about but let’s follow her” Suguru gets up and beckons in your general direction “and see where she goes” Satoru gets up and they both follow you at a safe distance, catching up with you as you are waiting for your order at Starbucks. Satoru perks up and nudges Suguru in the side with a cheeky smile when he hears the barista announce your order. “She can’t be that bad, she’s got a sweet tooth!”

“Let’s see where she goes from here.” Suguru pinches his chin as he watches you from across the cafe. You navigate around a few tables to reach the exit and head off to your meeting. While waiting for the elevator to the fifth floor, you catch a flash of messy-but-styled white hair from around the corner, but chalk it up to sleep deprivation and stress.

You make it to your adviser and he walks you through a few research opportunities, but the drawback is that you will need to take a year between finishing your primary in-classroom education and your clinical rotations. And the one that you like the most is across the country. Great timing, just after you finally get a girlfriend and think you may have your little life settled into a comfortable routine. Maybe you wait a few weeks to discuss this with Shoko. But maybe she would want you to bring it up sooner, it’s not like you haven’t known her for four years already. The responsible partner would talk about it soon. But you’ve never been too keen on bringing up tough subjects in a reasonable or quick manner, opting to mull quietly, by yourself, not wanting to bother other people or respond to negative feedback.

As you’re arguing with yourself, you take the elevator back down the ground floor and head outside to hole up in the library until Shoko is out of the morning’s lectures.

Except you don’t notice the two tall handsome boys following you from the lobby across the quad. They take notice of your internal conflicts written across your face and lack of spatial awareness to surround you and you bump into a dense, immovable statue. Fortunately for you, it’s not an actual statue, but a person, so there is a softness in the knock and a pair of arms quickly wrap around you to make sure you don’t fall. Two sets of arms, actually.

“Ah, Iamsosorry” You attempt to stammer out as you are brought out of your internal arguments. You look up to see long, feathered jet-black hair, reaching past the shoulders, but pulled partially up into a bun. Face framed by bangs hanging on one side. Piercing, focused, concerned violet eyes, and a soft smile. Your first impression is that he is cat-like. He catches you off-guard but you feel safe. As you step back to give him space and continue to your destination, your back bumps into an equally statuesque figure. But he’s the polar opposite when you tilt your head back and look up at him. A shock of white hair, dark round sunglasses, giant smile bearing all his teeth, ocean blue eyes piercing you. It’s unsettling how it feels like he’s reading every thought you’re having right now, in the past, and the future. “Oh, excuse me…” you mumble but it just trails off.

“Oh hello there.” Suguru places his hands on your shoulders to steady you. It feels nice, reassuring, considering you just knocked around some coastal rocks. “My name is Suguru Geto and this is Satoru Gojo. We just happened to see you walking across campus and you seemed distracted. Wouldn’t want you walking into anyone and causing a disturbance. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Yeah, what’s a girl like you doing so distracted?” You’re caught off guard by the brazen question. And confused by the implications. What kind of girl do they think you are?

“Sorry, I really just want to go to the library. I’m meeting my girlfriend soon.” You try to side-step the pair and they move in tandem to block your path. Ah, you start to feel the familiar anxiety of being pestered by someone who can’t understand that ‘no’ is a full and complete statement. What you fail to notice, is the shock that zipped through the boys’ expressions.

“I am sorry for the brashness of my companion” Suguru tilts his head up to give Satoru a piercing stare before his gaze softens again and he looks back at you. You feel as if you’re the only person in the entire world as he looks down. Completely taken by his gaze, feeling his arms re-settle on your forearms for a moment before dropping to his sides, giving you space with the lack of physical touch. “But we saw you with a friend of ours and we were just concerned for her. She always introduces anyone beyond a mere acquaintance to us, and we are only looking out for her best interests.” Satoru uses this opportunity to step around to your front, hands in his pockets. Although he still has a mischievous grin on his face.

��Er, what? I am sure that any one I am friends with surely doesn’t require a white knight or dark stallion to protect her honor.” You attempt to cut the conversation short.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely correct, dear. How about we get to know you over dinner? Our treat for being so forward. Tomorrow, pick you up at 7:00? I know a place that does great bananas foster with homemade caramel” Satoru winks, and you realize you’re still holding your coffee. You’re clutching it now, hoping he didn’t see that you asked for extra caramel drizzle in your coffee today. You’re a people pleaser, so you just quickly agree to the plans. You ask for their LineID and as you’re walking away, you get two messages immediately:

Can’t wait to see you, sweets! Looking forward to dinner and getting to know you.

Finally making it to the library, feeling buzzed, and not from the sugar or caffeine. But you manage to find some shred of focus for the next two hours. Your phone buzzes and you start to pack up your books and laptop. You respond to Shoko’s message that she’s out of class and heading to the dining hall with a quick “Yay, save me a seat!” message even though you know you don’t have to ask.

“How was the Pharmacology lecture?” You ask, while attempting to unhinge your jaw around a particularly ambitious forkful of salad. Your girlfriend just smiles at you over her soup.

“Hm, well you know how engaging Dr. Smith is at his age. I made sure to get an audio recording of the lectures and of course the slide notes include the markups from in-class.”

“Aww, thank you! You’re the best.”

Shoko gives you a fond smile as you both settle back into eating lunch. You continue chatting about classes, you feel confident over your polite dodging of any real answer to how your adviser meeting went “Ah, well, I am waiting for him to email me with some details on a couple research opportunities.” Shoko seems satisfied, or at least doesn’t have any follow up questions to your response. You don’t feel comfortable about lying to your best friend, your girlfriend, but you didn’t really tell her lies. Just, not the whole truth. You’ll tell her, soon. You promised yourself. That was the decision you had settled on right as you bumped into-

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something. I have two friends I’ve known since forever and I want to introduce you to them. I have kept you from them until now because they can be somewhat, very, incredibly, protective of me and intrusive to anyone who gets close. But they are good people, even if I have to kick their asses when they pull their little “baby Shoko” stunts.” Shoko puts her hands on yours and looks straight at you, although struggles to keep eye contact when she mentions her friends’ not-so-kind traits.

You consider her question and do not want to respond too quickly or eagerly, but you have wanted to build some new relationships before your life gets too much more hectic with clerkships, graduation, and intern year on the horizon. And if these new friends are already friends with Shoko, then it’s even easier because you would want any new friends to be comfortable with both of you. You may only be newly dating, but you’ve already fallen for Shoko quite hard and want to settle down. Or something like that? You haven’t taken a breath to really figure your brain out.

“Oh, well, why don’t we get drinks and see how things go? I like the idea of making new friends, let’s give it a try!” You try to hold back your over-eagerness, but you let slip big excited eyes and slotting your fingers into Shoko’s hands and squeezing. A small squeal may have also escaped your lips, you’re bad a poker. And Shoko loves it. She gives you a soft smile, leans over to drop a peck on your cheek. The rest of lunch passes with easy conversation. You head off to your afternoon lectures and study sessions together.

After classes finished, you both headed back to Shoko’s apartment. Even before you started dating, you spent most of your free time at her place. It was closer, bigger, quieter, and nicer than your apartment. You grab a pair of beers from the fridge after you finished cleaning up from dinner and walk over to the couch. Shoko turned on Netflix and started the nightly ritual of scrolling new and recently updated shows to see what caught either of your interests before settling on one of the six shows you’re already in the middle of watching. You sit sideways and hand over one of the beers, laying your legs across your girlfriend’s lap. She settles on watching the next episode of your shared guilty pleasure, Doctor X. During the opening credits, your phone buzzes several times with messages on Line.

“Ugh, what is it now? I should’ve left it in the bedroom” you grumble as you lean over to the table and pick up your phone that has now buzzed four times. You see a newly familiar name pop up and scowl.

“What’s wrong, love?” Shoko perks up and looks over to you as you start to read the messages, more coming in while you’re reading.

“I literally ran into a pair of criminally attractive guys. Boys, really. They did that High School-Hollywood thing of boxing me in, making me look up, and then not taking no for an answer. I agreed to get dinner with them tomorrow just so they’d leave me alone and go away.” You flash her the phone with the messages. Her usually subtle expression shifted much more dramatically when she saw who you were talking about.

“Wait. You ran into, literally? Gojo and Geto? Tall, one with white hair sticking up in stupid directions and acting with way too much bravado, the other with big ear gauges and an air of incredible self-confidence? Today? Where? When?” She stops her idle massaging of your legs and turns towards you, taking your phone to read more carefully what they had sent:

Heyyyyyy. Wear something cute? Do you like Mediterranean? :)

“Yyyyeah that matches the pair. Why, do you know them? Have they bothered you on campus before?”

Shoko snickers softly. “You could say that. Remember the pair of friends I wanted you to meet? Looks like they found you first.”

“Oh.” You look down at your hands for a moment and then suddenly you remember what Suguru said to you “we saw you with a friend of ours and we were just concerned for her…” “Oh, wait a second. You’re the friend they were talking about!” And you relay the conversation you had with Suguru and Satoru to Shoko who just shakes her head and sucks her teeth.

“Yeah, those bastards. I told them to wait till this weekend, I had news for them and someone to meet. But they just HAD to get impatient.”

“I will call off dinner! Can I have my phone back, please?” you reach out your hand to begin composing a polite response to the nuisance pair.

“No, don’t. Just have them come over first. And then they can take BOTH of us to dinner.”

As soon as you send off your address, you put your phone down. Shoko’s ministrations on your legs intensifies subtly, but clearly with an agenda. You lean back against the arm of the couch as Shoko slowly massages her hands up your legs, focusing on the softer flesh on the insides of your thighs. You part your legs for her slightly as she gets closer to your clothed core.

The days have been long and you’ve hardly had time for yourself or your relationship since you’ve put official titles on it. You shift yourself so you’re now straddling Shoko. You reach your hands around her neck, threading your hands under her long, wheat-colored brown hair. When you met her, her hair was only touching her shoulders, but now it’s reaching far down her back. Her lips are so soft and inviting, a gentle sheen of spit covering them. Your eyes rake over her face, taking in every facial micromovement. You admire her lone freckle below her eye, something you’ve always found cute.

You lean in, lips parting slightly as her eyes glance up at you, pupils darkening in desire. As your tongues slipped past each other, they danced delicately but with increasing urgency as your lips press harder and Shoko takes a brief opening to nip at your lower lip, drawing out a soft moan from you. Your hands hold her neck tighter, one slipping up through her hair, giving it a light tug. Her hands start sliding back in between your legs, the side of her pinky finger lightly grazing your center which elicits a small grind from you. As your kiss slowly turns more frantic, trading breaks for air with trails of urgency on each others jawline, Shoko reaches under your shirt to gently wrap her hands under your voluminous tits. Still seated in a soft bralette, your nipples begin to harden as her hands slowly squeeze and make their way into the bralette and find your nipples with a soft squeeze.

You drop your hands to your sides and toss your head back at the sharp, but pleasurable sensations and start to roll your hips in Shoko’s lap, looking for some friction and relief for the growing tension. You whimper as the pinching and squeezing intensifies, tilting your head back up and you are met with eyes filled with pure lust. “I told you I wanted to continue from last night” Shoko growls. You just respond with a low moan. Shoko then uses her forearms to slide your shirt up and over your head, taking your bralette with it.

Now, your fully exposed chest and abdomen, your nipples clearly taut in response to the pleasure being shown to them. Shoko then leans down to one, taking it in her mouth with a light suck. Keeping her hand squeezing the other, she lightly bites down, rolling the puckered nipple in her teeth, sliding her slick tongue across. She releases it with a pop, letting it and your breast drop and give a little lewd jiggle. She repeats the process on your other nipple. You are still wantonly grinding your hips in her lap, keening against her touch.

As your body continues to relax, your brain slowly shutting off the noise and entering that cozy, listful, lustful subspace headspace, your hands claw at your girlfriends’ shirt and pull it off of her during a brief moment when her lips aren’t attached to your body. The moment her skin is exposed, you bring yourself vertical and then over, pressing your breasts into hers, enjoying the soft and supple squeezes from your body weight onto Shoko. You reach in to grasp the sides of your shared mass of tits, squeezing and pushing them together.

You are in a daze, skin on fire, as you are drunk from your beer and the lust spreading through your veins. You always knew you were bisexual, although you couldn’t put a fine point on it until you met Shoko while at your lab’s new grad student orientation 3 and a half years ago. You moved across the country for grad school, knowing you’d need to start over again and find new (local) friends. You were taking in the space when you turned around and saw Shoko Ieri walk in the room, immediately disorienting you and a sudden warmth spreading into your center. You couldn’t look her in the eye for the entire first month.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Shoko brings you out of your daze as she wraps her hand around the back of your neck. “Want to start with that new toy I picked up recently?”

“O-oh, yeah, I haven’t tried something like that before!” You start to untangle yourself from Shoko and roll off the couch. You’re chased by Shoko into the bedroom as she reaches out to pinch at your sweatpants-covered ass, you making sure she can still catch you. There’s fun in the chase, but so is there in getting caught. You leap at the bed, spin around and sit on your legs patiently while Shoko disappears into her closet. She returns quickly, now in nothing but a lace thong and brandishing a modest, slightly curved silicone dildo in her hands, twirling her hair with her other hand. You bounce a bit in anticipation, soft tits still jiggling as you stop moving. You move to remove your sweatpants, but are cut off.

“Ah ah ah, hands off. Why are you trying to deny me the fun? I said we are going to continue from yesterday. Which means it’s my turn to return the favor.”

“We don’t need to keep a running tally for equitability sake!” you whine, sticking your lip out in an over-exaggerated pout.

“You’re right, but since this is celebrating us putting some structure and a title to” she waves her hand between the two of you “this, I want to finish what you started. Now, lay back, please.” You settle on the duvet, heart racing, feeling giddy. Last night you off-handedly said ‘I love you’ over dinner at home. It came out of nowhere, but you were just chatting and catching up from the day over a bowl of spaghetti, and it just fell out of your mouth while Shoko nearly choked mid-slurp.

Shoko sets the toy down on the bed and climbs up the bed, caging you in. As she reaches your middle, she sits back on her heels and tugs at your pants. She loved how you always returned to your own apartment or hers and would immediately change into comfortable room wear, shedding the stuffy denim and wired bras for soft cottons and gentle elastics. Pulling your hair back to keep it out of your face, it certainly made easier to grab in the heat of sex and teasing. After she removed your pants and panties, reveling at your exposed frame, Shoko admired your neatly trimmed hair framing your glistening pussy. “Mine.”

Soft kisses with small nibbles sprinkled in begin to chase up the inside of your legs, feet planted on the bed. As the kisses intensify, your knees fall further apart. Your hands come up to your hair as you lace your fingers through to ground yourself. Gently, two fingers spread your folds open and you let out a small gasp. “Mmm I just love to tease your pussy.” One slender finger slides in, your soft walls pulling it in deeper until your girlfriend’s middle finger is sheathed up to the knuckle. She flips her palm upwards and curls the finger inside of you while bringing her thumb to rest on your hardening clitoris. Your hips begin to buck at the movements, moans increasing. Slowly sliding her finger out, pressure still on your clit, Shoko adds a second finger and begins to rub circles with her thumb and thrusting her fingers in and out. She looks up from her ministrations to watch your face go through a million small emotions in pleasure. “That’s it, love. Let me hear you, don’t hold back.” You unwind on her hand, fluttering around her fingers, riding out your high with loud moans and grinding hips.

As you come back down, Shoko reaches over to the toy, aligning the flat, angled tip with your hole, pulling out her fingers. “Ready?” she whispers, but with an edge of gravel on her voice. She also grabs a small remote that you didn’t initially see and reaches up to place it in your hands. “I also got a treat for you. Feel free to press the buttons as you want and see what happens”

Slowly, Shoko presses the toy into your soaked pussy, as the tip disappears in, she turns it on to the lowest vibration setting. You give a sharp inhale as you push your head back further into the pillows. You recollect yourself as the toy makes its way further into you, and bring your hand up to see what this remote is. Just two buttons, marked by a plus and minus sign. You touch the plus button and suddenly a sultry and surprised “Ahhh mmmmm” Shoko whines from between your legs. Her progress to slide in the toy momentarily halted as she adjusted to the vibrating inside of her. She regains composure as she seats the toy fully inside you and rotates it around until you slam your eyes shut and cry out in pure pleasure. “Ah ha, found it. So hot.” Shoko bought a g-spot vibrator and adjusted it till she found the right spot inside of you.

Squirming somewhat, Shoko slowly moves the vibrator around, placing her free hand on your abdomen with pressure against you. Your hips begin to gyrate and roll with increased intensity every time the head of the toy makes contact with the spongy sensitive bundle of nerves inside your walls. “Sho—Shooookoooo ple- FUCK please~” you preen and attempt to stammer out some words. You increase the intensity on the remote.

“Ye-s, l-ove? You’re doing so, so, hnf, well, better than the fantasies I had all day of this- of this mooooment.” Shoko showers you with praise, stuttered by her own building pleasure, knowing exactly what is to come next.

“Ahhh, Sho—Shoko, I’m-com-” You attempt to tell her what you’re feeling as the pressure in your abdomen has reached a fever pitch, ready to incinerate you at the lightest touch. Shoko steadies the vibrator right on the nerves and brings her thumb up to apply pressure to your clit and lowers her body to get closer to your core. “Give it all to me.” At that moment you scream obscenities as your body releases the built-up pressure and you squirt directly into Shoko’s waiting mouth. Helping you ride out your pleasure pushed Shoko over the edge, too, as she rolls her hips along with the waves of her own orgasm. As your body begins to slow it’s movements, she turns off the vibrator and removes it from you. She also reaches down to her own bullet vibrator and removes it, still shaking as you’re too high on your own pleasure to find the remote.

Shoko sits up and wipes your slick from her face, reaching a hand up to you to clean off. “Good girl.” You whimper at the affirmation, pulling on her wrist to bring her up to you, her body draped on yours. When you finish lapping up the wetness on her hand, you twist your head over and your mouths meet in lazy but passionate kissing. Tongues lazily exploring each other, gratitude shared between the two of you.

“Shower?” You nod, slowly rolling yourself over, legs finding the ground albeit a bit shakily. Shoko steps out ahead, sliding into the en suite ahead of you to warm up the shower and grab towels. You stand in front of the mirror admiring your body, re-adjusting your hair and pulling the strays that have fallen out back up. You step in to the shower, bottoms of your feet chilled on the hard tile floor, but skin warmed by the scaldingly hot shower.

“Ahhhh, perfect” You reach out to rest your hands on Shoko’s waist as you both take a moment to relax in the warmth of each other and the water.

“Yeah, you are, love.” You giggle at the admiration. Shoko’s hands come up to gently massage your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples. She closes the gap between you and nudges her leg in between yours, rubbing her thigh against your sensitive folds. You let out a soft moan, feeling sensitive and on-edge already, after just a moment. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You continue to grind on her thigh as she holds pressure against your heat. Your hands slide up to Shoko’s chin, cupping her face and you dive in for a kiss. Your lips are urgent and needy as you moan into her mouth, biting her lips with every wave of building pressure. After several minutes, Shoko breaks the kiss, pulling away and you whine as her leg also pulls back. She begins kissing down the column of your neck, down the center of your clevage, past your navel, sinking to her knees to worship at your altar.

Wordlessly, Shoko nudges your legs further apart, guiding you so you are now leaning against the cold wall of the shower. Placing her hands on the front of your thighs, she slides them up to your folds and with her thumbs, spreads your pussy open, exposing your wet core to the warm shower air. She leans in to take a soft lick, savoring the first taste. You lean back on the wall for support, hands threading through Shoko’s hair.

“God you taste amazing. I can’t get enough of you.” Shoko uses her nose to rub against your oversensitive clit, reaching her tongue inside your sensitive cunt, applying light suction as she goes. Drinking up every drop your body offers, you can feel her moans reaching deep within you. Moving between deep licks inside your pussy to abusing your clit with the tip and flat of her tongue, you can feel the coil again twisting inside of you. With your moans completely unrestrained, you use your grip on her head to keep her pinned against your center.

“Baby, love, god” Shoko praises you at each short breath she takes. You don’t even have a moment to tell her as suddenly the coil snaps and you silently scream as she eagerly accepts the orgasm she pulled from your body. Her hands wrapping around your hips, holding you close as you buck against her touch. Once you have stopped moving so harshly, she stands up and your lips crash together one more time, you licking your wetness off her face, her embracing and holding you.

“I’ve never felt so relaxed with someone, Sho. You’re my best friend, my love, I can’t see a future without you.” Your mouth is moving faster than your brain, letting your admissions tumble out. A common occurrence for you recently. Shoko just smiles and you wash each other clean, taking time to massage tender areas, and scrub the rough ones. After you step out of the shower, you both go through your nightly skin care and pre-bed routines. Passing products between each other, prepping and moving as one practiced unit.

Now laying in bed, you are in the crook of your girlfriends’ arm while you both scroll on your phones. Eventually putting them down and rolling into a more comfortable sleeping position (as cute as cuddling is, you both know that it’s not comfortable for sleeping all night. No one likes numb limbs!). You both drift off to sleep, feeling happy and content with each other.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #shoko smut #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #shoko x reader #shoko x you #bisexual #jen の writing #jen の stories #“classmates”

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first-tooth-clinic · 1 year ago

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Dental Treatment While Pregnant | Best Dental Clinic in Gurgaon-First Tooth Clinic

At First Tooth Clinic in Gurgaon, we provide professional dental care for kids and understand the importance of dental treatment during pregnancy. Visit the best dental clinic in Gurgaon for expert care. Your child's oral health is our priority!

#Dental Treatment While Pregnant #First Tooth Clinic #Best Dental Clinic in Gurgaon

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months ago

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"You could have warned me!" With Harvey? 💛

Finally trying my hand at writing the doc <3

......

"There are monsters in the volcano that spit fire??? You could have warned me! Had I know you were going to venture there I-!"

"Harvey, honey, it wasn't that bad-"

"Then what's this second degree burn I am treating, hm?" The doctor simply gave you a semi-scolding look as he bandaged your bicep. You got a nasty burn from a mischievous Lava Lurker who caught you by surprise while exploring the volcano dungeon on Ginger Island.

You thought you deflected all of the beast's fireballs, but alas one managed to slip by your defenses and nearly scorch your skin off.

At the time it didn't hurt, although of course when your boyfriend asked if you were okay after leaving the dungeon....it began hurting like a bitch, and he had you rushed back to town to get it fully examined.

It made you feel a little bad, knowing Harvey just wanted to spend a relaxing day at the resort--even though you had to remind him that his worry over people stepping on glass or not applying sunscreen defeated the whole purpose of his "vacation."

You helped ground him, but at the same time became the reason he was gonna get a few extra grey hairs pretty soon. He learned you went to the volcano and found not only Slimes...but more monsters like flying fireballs, living mushrooms, and other creepy creatures.

He doesn't know how you could face any of them. He surely couldn't and wouldn't.

This was the first time you've come to his clinic with burns this severe.

"First the mines, then the skull caverns..and now this?" Harvey shuddered, overlooking your other injuries with profound worry. "And here I was..worried that you'd be coming out with heatstroke. What's in that volcano anyways?"

"A forge to enchant my weapons." You answered, gesturing to your weapon propped against the wall. "The dwarf living there told me all about it. I had to get past all ten floors to access the gate, slay some magma creatures for the guild, use my watering can to make bridges across the lava...oh, and I found a dragon tooth made of iridium among...."

"......"

"Harvey, I know that look..." Sighing, you brushed a hand over the bandages he placed on you, before gazing back at him. "I promise I don't let monsters go after me on purpose."

"[Y/n]. I just...I want you to be safe out there." He wringed his hands together, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. "All these injuries will add up...and they will take a toll on your body. And if it happens when you're in a bad place where I can't help you, then I...I-I just....I don't know what I'll-"

"Harvey."

You rested a hand on his knee, causing your poor boyfriend to jolt out of his ramblings in fright, seeing his wide-eyed stare and hints of tears gathering behind his glasses.

It made you feel all the more guilty for stressing him out this much. You honestly don't mean to.

"I know my limits better now thanks to you, and I always pack life elixirs before going into any monster-infested cave." You gave him a reassuring smile, taking his hands into yours. "I won't let anything bad happen to me, okay?"

"...okay, as long as you're keeping your word, I..I trust you." Harvey shakily returned the smile, his ahoulders relaxing. He was glad you were taking his advice.

Of course, he couldn't convince you to abandon spelunking and monster hunting altogether. He'd feel terrible for even suggesting that when it's been such a strong passion of yours since moving into the valley.

He only hopes that whatever you do in that scary dungeon, you carry it out with extreme caution.

Yoba only knows how devastated he'd be if you winded up in the emergency room again..in worse shape than last time.

#clanask #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #harvey x reader #angst/horror prompt

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rcmclachlan · 5 months ago

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Seven Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by the insanely talented @cecilyv, who dropped a snippet of a scene in an upcoming fic in which Tommy and Buck LINE DANCE. If you haven't read their ongoing series (co-written with liminalmemories) What Binds The Fabric Together, you really should.

Anyway, this sure ain't seven sentences, but...

As soon as Tommy had dropped the print-out of his blood panel results from the clinic on South La Brea on the kitchen counter, Evan launched himself clear across the room, colliding with him like an atom, and gasped into Tommy's ear that he was going to milk the orgasm right out of him. That he was going to hold all that come inside himself where he would be swollen and warm, and wouldn't spill a single drop. "Because then you're going to lick it out of me." Evan punctuated that by sinking his teeth into the meat of Tommy's throat. The first couple of months of their relationship was spent in a frenzied cycle of fucking wildly every chance they got and revealing to each other the parts of themselves no one else had ever seen. Glutting on the thrill of exploring this new facet of Evan's sexuality together was addictive, but more so was the terrifying and exhilarating feeling of cleaving his own chest open because Evan wanted to explore the caverns inside. It was insane how fast and willingly Tommy fell into it. He had never wanted someone so much every second of every day. When he was in the air, he thought of Evan. When he was under the hood of the Shelby Cobra he'd been fixing off and on for the last four years, he thought of Evan. When he was with Evan, he thought of nothing and no one else. He gratefully supped on everything he was given: every anecdote, every kiss, every joke, every touch, every smile, every useless factoid about parasitoid wasps or how ketchup was once believed to cure jaundice or that the tooth fairy doesn't exist in most Hispanic cultures but El Ratoncito Pérez, the tooth mouse, does. It felt insane. It was insane. But it was nothing compared to Evan, who bit and clawed and howled for Tommy like a wolf that had been starved to madness, spending half the time panting and whining to be mounted while the other half was spent running down every one of Tommy's hopes and fears and secret shames so he could swallow them whole with vicious, bloody-toothed joy. And even though it meant getting ribbed by his teammates for limping around in a sleep-deprived daze all the damn time, Tommy wanted to keep stuffing and stuffing that insatiable creature full—with his fingers and his cock and the parts of himself he'd thought were buried so far down they were lost forever. It was during that time that Tommy, drowsy and come-drunk one night after he'd eaten Evan out for fifteen minutes until his jaw felt wired shut and then fucked him deaf and dumb, had murmured that his number one fantasy was to suck his own come out of the same place his dick had been, and Evan never once let him forget it. Every time they fucked after that, he would push Tommy's head down and whine and demand and beg for Tommy to clean him up with his tongue, even though there was no mess to be found. Nothing to show Tommy had been there. But tonight there would be.

No pressure tags: @dadvans, @alchemistc, @kirkaut, @sonatine, @itsevidentvery, @ripeteeth, @beefcakekinard, and anyone else who wants to share with the class

#bucktommy #911 #seven sentence sunday #the freak4freak agenda

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fatorangepoo · 2 months ago

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Wriothesley Teaches You How to Fight Like A Pro

"First things first... fix that attitude of yours," Wriothesley grumbled, clad in his long-sleeved dress shirt, fitted pants and mechanical gauntlets. Slicking his hair back with both hands over his head, he groaned, "You don't even want to do this properly. Are you just here for me or what?"

Upon hearing that, your jokester ass laughed out loud and you clutched your clenched stomach bending over in joy. Wiping a tear from your eye, you muse, "Well what if I was?" and continued giggling with your feet circling in arcs like a dying roach.

Let's just say some people have a different sense of humour. You weren't even surprised when you lightly peeked with one eye at Wriothesley to find him glaring daggers at you with those striking eyes of his, because he has never appreciated your skibidi toilet jokes.

Even you knew his limits, and you didn't know him well. Just well enough to share drinks and inside jokes. For you, well was quality time and bouts of intimate touches. So no, you didn't know him well. You got up and sprung back into action, picking up some Gintama move you saw Chinese grandmothers do in Tai Chi. Hands in karate chop motion, you tornadoed to his direction and landed a foot directly in front of him, hand positioned directly before his nose.

Wriothesley scrunched up his nose and forced out a reluctant "Better, I guess," and lowered his head. Addled and confused, you tilted your neck to your side in a classic WHAT?! pose, then you heard a chuckle from somewhere around the room. Looking around, you said, "Well, I never knew you invited some others to our practises."

When he didn't respond, you turned back to him kneeling on the floor, gorgeous di-coloured hair sprawling out from his scalp. You squat with your legs open like a frog or sneaky spider in front of him, leggings stretching against your calf. Looking down at him, you saw a glimpse of his canine tooth revealed by a devilish grin. He looked up at you and laughed at your face, eyes closed all the way through in a joyful daze.

Sobering up, he projected with a husky voice, "So funny, are we?" and you could swear his Arctic glacier eyes thundered periodically, letting you in a world of dark, deep sea typhoons. "Let's see what happens when you face real danger. You think they would loosen their grip because you said something that started with ski, ended with di and rhymed with clinically? I'd like you see you £#¢¥ing try," he threatened gloomily, advancing onto you with a fat forearm.

You hastily avoided his arm by holding it back with both hands, but you never really won over the gymbros in arm wrestling, so you got overpowered instead. He locked his arm under your neck, lifting you up so your toes were dreaming of touching land, which never happened considering you were taller than the average population. His shirt sleeve was so distracting because it smelled like your cousin's detergent and made you wish you had money to afford laundry that was more than just rinsing fabric with water.

You felt like Loki being held by his neck by Thor, albeit being the superior brother in the situation. In every situation, actually. Loki just suited you better. Pranksters have your whole heart.

You snuck your hands under his arm and pushed outward with all your might, and he was still unyielding. Bruh, at this point you just gotta turn around and start pushing his chest away from you. That'd be more effective, right? Whose chest can withstand brute force? Well, not yours, to be frank. You can't even wrestle your cousin.

"LET ME... THE £@#& GO!" you yelled with your back against his locked hands in a smooth manoeuvre, and tried to push at his chest. Ew, this feels like molestation. Who cared about molestation when your life was being threatened by a raider!!! You don't care anymore, you went from poking his chest playfully to shoving the hell out of his dress shirt, and he stumbled, hands losing their grip.

Like a proud hen, you stood arms akimbo, head inclined as you stared Wrio down. Oh my effing god. He surged and started CHARGING at you!!! He threw himself on you like on those WWE Superslams and you flew with your back sliding on the floor. His arms were around you, then you realised they weren't around you as much as they were wrapped around an actual dagger. Oh archons!

If you were wrong in the head, you would think this was fun and mentally stimulating. It was a bit exhilarating, but you were fearing for your life here. Mr Puppy here looks like he would actually kill you here and now for saying skibidi toilet during a company dinner 3 weeks ago. Deeply stashed anger, am I right? Poor pup doesn't have an outlet to release stress, so he keeps it all pent up and explodes on you for a tiny joke consisting of toilet...

His knee kneeling in the space between your thighs, he seemed chivalrous and angelic and deadly. The light shining on him from his table lamp just further intensified the dark side of his face, unilluminated by anything. That pretty much sums up your first impression of him. Dark, sepulchral and a pain to be with. Now, you're wrong. This is fun.

"Alright, yes yes, I'm afraid I'm deeply invested now, Your Grace. Continue," you chirped happily from your position under the Duke's glinting knife. If you stole a jewel from the hilt now, would he realise? You were quite good at this gemstone side hustle of yours.

"Second of all, do not let yourself be vulnerable," he gritted his teeth and you wanted to caress his neck just right above your collarbone. "Well, I don't. I never open up to people! I consider it one of my great strengths-" you got cut off by his bejeweled dagger pinning itself on the fabric of your tank top like a dart pinned to a dartboard.

"Not what I meant," he offered, "but thanks for the invitation." Then he lifted a hand and punched you on your good side. Alas, no more side profile selfies!

You grabbed the gloved hand that was about to go for a second round of punching you with one determined fist of yours, unyielding in your grip. You observe Wriothesley's amusement, his face on top of you taunting. God, his lifted lips are so distracting in their angles, sharp at all the right places. Dangerous men should not have smiles more perilous than their charm.

Despite that, you shook him with your hand guiding him in the direction you wanted to go - in this situation you wanted him the floor where you previously were. Locking your elbow around his dangerous arm, you channeled enough strength to pull him down on the floor beside you. After the satisfying thud of your bully/mentor's back hitting the floor (his tough back muscles are probably fine), you swiftly roll yourself on top of him, legs clamped around both of his. Tank top strap slowly sliding down your shoulder, you dislodge the dagger on the floor and rest your elbows on the sides of his face. Curling his hair on the dagger's pointy edge, you look down, half-lidded, on his tired blue eyes and sadistically remarked, "Any tips for ending someone with a dagger?"

#genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshinimpact #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin

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whackk-kermitt · 4 months ago

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We Weren't Together

Warning: Pack Mom Stiles(mostly Off screen), Derek is the Alpha, Everyone is Alive, Derek is Jelly, Mild Angst, Misunderstandings, Significant Background Character, Lydia is the best Meddler, Happy Ending Summary: Derek and Stiles are not a couple. Simple as that. Not really sure where I was going with this one. It might be total shit. Womp Womp. NOT PROOFREAD

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"Cheater!"

"I didn't cheat!"

"You so did! How else would you have all that money when you own two properties!" Erica flung a shoe. All Stiles could do was laugh until his ribs ached.

"Okay," Lydia sighed setting her cards down and backing from the coffee table to lean against the arm of the couch. Allison looked on unimpressed, but only because she knew Stiles cheated.

"Oh come on," Scott groaned. "This is why I never play Monopoly."

"Who's Idea was this?" Isaac threw his cards down and looked around, a scowl due for the culprit.

"Yours." Lydia supplied with an unimpressed expression and a tilt of the head.

Derek sat back with a privet smile. It had been a while since he had gotten to work bringing the old Hale house back to a livable condition. And once the majority of it was done, the pack, without being asked, began coming over every Saturday to spend time all together. He'd see individuals pop in throughout the week, but he loved when they'd all be here together.

"No," Isaac defended. "I said we have, Clue, Uno, Scategories, and Monopoly. I never said I wanted to play this one."

"The way you said 'and Monopoly', made it sound like you did." Stiles offered with a look in his eye Derek couldn't place. "And who could say no to that adorable ridiculous scarf." He teased with kissy lips and a pinch to Isaac's cheek. Isaac swatted his hand away but his cheeks went red.

"If nobody wants to play I'd rather not waste my time." Boyd piped up, the first thing he's said since he reluctantly agreed to play this.

"Okay, we wanna do a different game or a movie?" Stiles offered starting to clean up the pieces into the box.

"Movie!" Erica cheered. "Who's turn is it to pick?"

Derek, who was already up and walking into the kitchen, stopped and checked the calendar on the wall. It was a calendar bought from the vet clinic with different dogs for every month, posing in costumes related to that month's holiday. You can guess who bought it.

Thinking of a name that rhymes with Biles Bilinski.

Who took the commitment to go through the calendar and alternate the pack's names on every Saturday, to mark their turn to choose. Since nobody could ever agree.

"Erica." Derek grinned with his back to the living room while Erica and Lydia cheered, while most of the boys groaned. Whenever it was either of them, they teamed up to find a movie literally only girls would like- according to Jackson. They've been made to watch The Notebook five times, The Princess Bride three times, and 10 Things I Hate About You four times.

Derek leaving the girls behind to settle on what to torture the boys with, he pulled bowls from the cabanit and a pot. Oiling the bottom of the pot, pour in corn kernels to coat the bottom. He covered the pot and let it heat up, turning to get butter from the fridge. But a hand was already on the fridge pulling it open.

Stiles always had a smile on his face when he was at the house, just as happy to be here with everyone as Derek was. Derek watched as Stiles took out the butter opened two sticks into a bowl from the dish rack and plopped it in the microwave. While the corn began popping Stiles and Derek danced around each other in the kitchen, working in perfect synchronicity to stock the large tray with canned drinks, bottles of water, and other various snacks.

Derek eyes all the sugary garbage on the try without making a sound. He had a sweet tooth sure, but he preferred actual baked goods, not the overly processed Debbie cakes and Oreo cookies they kept in the snack cabinet. Just as he was about to settle for just popcorn and water Stiles's hand came into view as he wordlessly put a bag of homemade cookies on the tray. Sharpie scrawled out 'sourwolf' with a smiley face on it.

Derek said nothing, watching Stiles turn and ready the three big bowls for the popcorn to be sorted into. Things like this made Derek feel like a very lucky man. Stiles never even thought about it, just did things like this. Not only for Derek but for the rest of the pack as well. Always taking one extra step to make sure everyone was happy.

Derek knew when Stiles was overthinking things; his nose would scrunch up, sometimes just the slightest bit, and he'd fidget a little more than usual. Derek knew what Stiles had to think before he did something, he never stopped to think about this stuff.

Stiles was a good friend, and Derek was happy he was pack.

After getting the popcorn buttered and evenly distributed they scooped everything up and brought it to the living room. Everyone was finding their seats on the two couches and the armchair, with a movie called Clueless qued up on Netflix.

Derek set the tray down, grabbed a water bottle and his cookies, and found his stop on the end of the couch he always takes. Stiles passed out the bowls of popcorn and settled in. Derek had gotten distracted watching Scott and Isaac fuss over who gets the last can of coke. He snorted dryly and turned to look at Stiles, who always and something to say about their childlike bickering.

Except when he turned to his left, it was the body that sat next to him. Boyd wasn't even paying attention to him. Huh, odd.

Derek looked over to the other couch where Stiles was squished in between Lydia and Erica who were explaining all the reasons Stiles was gonna love this movie. Stiles was smiling at the girls and chuckling, amused at how excited Erica was.

He was confused for a moment about why he assumed it would be Stiles sitting next to him. It didn't matter though, Stiles can sit anywhere, it's not like it matters.

He thought about it while everyone quieted down and the movie started.

Derek thought about all the previous times they settled in for movie night, and from what Derek recalled, Stiles sat by him every time. Derek thought about it for a moment and found himself amused.

If he told Stiles about it he knew what Stiles would say. Something about Pavlov, and Derek subconsciously thinking Stiles would always be next to him when they watched a movie because up until now he was.

But it didn't really matter where anyone sat, Derek convinced himself. He is just as happy sitting next to Boyd as he would be next to Stiles, or anyone else for that matter.

But as the movie went on, and Erica and Lydia both started leaning more onto Stiles, laughing at the funny parts and basically snuggling together, Derek decided he didn't like it.

Something in him became unsettled when by the second half of the movie Stiles started dozing off like he did almost every movie night, his head laying on Lydia's shoulder.

If Stiles were sitting over here, his head would fall onto Derek's shoulder like it always did. Stiles would wake up after the movie was over, everyone going home, and say something along the lines of 'good flick'. To which Derek would tease him for sleeping through most of it and use the drool on his shirt as evidence.

Derek didn't have a word to describe the feeling, didn't have the slightest clue as to what caused it, because it really didn't matter. The pack is pack, he was happy to see Stiles and everyone getting along so well, being so close, but it still bugged him.

After the movie was over, everyone did their share of cleaning up, said goodnight, and was out the door. Erica and Boyd being the last to go, as soon as the door was closed and locked, Derek sighed and his smile fell. This pit in his stomach only twisted more, when Stiles only gave him a one-word goodbye and offered Lydia a ride him.

"So," Isaac awkwardly swayed a little as Derek entered the kitchen. "Are you and Stiles fighting?"

"What?" Derek paused his stride through the room to stare at him.

"Well, tonight you guys," He studdered for a bit, the awkwardness he was feeling just asking very prevalent on his face. "Seemed off tonight. I don't know."

"No," Derek shook his head. "We're fine."

"Okay," Isaac clearly didn't believe him and bound up the stairs to his room.

Derek stood there for a moment and shook it off. He stuffed the feeling down like he did with almost anything unpleasant and went to bed.

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It was 11:43 pm. It was slightly rainy and cold out. Stars and the moon shone over the preserve, eliminating the front yard.

Derek stood in the kitchen leaning against the counter, watching out the window at the driveway. Sparing a glance at the clock every few minutes.

Isaac was late. Super late. Not answering his phone, not sending a single text.

He was about to give up waiting for something, anything when a familiar jeep rolled up the long dirt road and onto the gravel driveway.

"Man," He heard Isaac's faint voice from outside. "He's still up. I'm in deep shit."

Isaac followed with dragging feet as a very amused Stiles him and Scott up the front steps.

When they entered they kicked off their shoes and joined a very disappointed-looking Derek. He stood tall with his arms crossed over his chest. The three gathered in front of him awaiting hell to rain down, except Derek didn't fail to notice the subtle grin on Stile's face.

"You're late."

"Sorry, we lost track of time." Isaac pouted like a picked puppy.

"You have a phone."

"It died." He shrugged.

"Neither of you have phones?" Derek glared at the other two.

The three looked between themselves and gave each other the "why didn't we think of that" look.

Derek sighed pitifully, "If I ask you to be home by a reasonable hour I don't think that's too much to ask. Full moons right around the corner and-" He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry me like this again, " He waved the topic away.

Issac nodded shamefully and muttered an apology. The fear of being reprimanded stayed firm in his eyes and stiff body. It almost made Derek feel guilty for being upset in the first place, but he knew he had every right to worry.

"It's fine." Derek shook his head. "I just need to know where you are or at least be able to get in touch with you if something happens. I was worried Isaac, I'm not mad."

Isaac nodded, taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders.

"How was the party?" Derek didn't care really, he just wanted Isaac to feel comfortable.

"Fun, the whole team was there. We got bored when everyone else was too drunk to even talk to so we bailed and got some food and Mami's Diner." Scott smiles recalling the evening.

"Yeah, parties aren't as fun when you can't get tipsy with everyone else."

"Too bad for you guys." Stiles sighed with a goofy grin. They all took their spots at the breakfast bar.

"You didn't drink a drop tonight though." Isaac pointed out.

"And trust one of you to drive my baby?" Stiles accused as if the two were actively planning a first-degree murder in front of him. They all merely chuckled at his dramatics and moved on from that.

"Derek," Scott started with a grimace. "Can I stay the night? Moms working a double and I don't wanna wake her getting home this late."

Derek shrugged, indifferent. He'd gotten the guestrooms ready from the rest of the back. Hell, any of them could show up wanting to spend the night, with no excuse or reason, and he'd be happy to have them. It's why the rooms are there.

"Me too!" Stiles piped up. "I have no reason, just too lazy to drive I guess."

Derek chuckled a little and welcomed them both to a guest room of their choosing.

Isaac excused himself to the bathroom to shower, as Derek led Scott and Stiles up the stairs. He showed off the finished rooms and let them pick and choose. Stiles picked the one next to his room, claiming dibs because the other room had a draft.

"How much work left is there?" Stiles asked mindlessly looking down the hall at the section of the house still covered in plastic to protect the new wood flooring. Tools, wood varnishes, and cans of paint sat out in the hall.

Derek motioned him down the hall as Scott, uninterested, entered the room on the other end and settled in for bed.

Stiles followed Derek into an unfinished bedroom and took a look around. Derek flicked on the lights he'd just wired and put in the other day. The drywall was fresh and the whole room was covered in plastic, tape guarding the fixings and crown molding. The room was nearly ready to be painted and furnished.

"Just need to fix the wiring to the other room, mount the shelving, and this window," Derek strolled over and giggled the latch. "Needs to be fixed or replaced at some point. It won't open."

Stiles nodded looking around and smiling to himself.

"Other than that, it's just fixing up the back porch and the half-bath downstairs." He turned to look at Stiles. "What?"

"Nothing," Stiles shrugged, smile never fading. "I'm just happy."

"About what?" Derek asked curiously approaching Stiles like he was about to get a pie in the face.

"I don't know. Just in a good mood tonight, I guess."

When Derek was close enough he stopped, twisting his head and pouting at a smell invading his nose. Stiles almost made a kicked puppy joke until he saw that something was defiantly bothering Derek.

"What is it?"

"You smell weird."

"Well, I was just at a party with about sixty or seventy drunk teenagers, so."

"No, it's," Derek stepped closer slowly, leaning in just enough into Stiles's personal space to not make him uncomfortable but close enough to get a good whiff of the insulting aroma. "You smell like-" Derek stopped and his face dropped a little, leaning back and eyeing a very confused Stiles.

"Never mind." He shook his head and turned the lights off as he walked out. "Goodnight, Stiles." He left Stiles standing there completely bewildered.

Derek locked himself up in his room and changed into sweats before climbing into bed. All with a deep frown dragging his features down.

Stiles smelled like arousal. Like sex. But it clearly wasn't Stiles's scent.

Stiles smelled like someone else's arousal.

Derek racked his barian all night who that prick could've been. Why was that prick all riled up and close enough to rub his lasting odor on him? Was Stiles dancing with someone at the party? Did Stiles make out with someone at the party?

At that question, his mind supplied him the images of Stiles bumping and grinding with some random dude, hands on Stiles's hips, moving and swaying with him. The creep Kissing up on Stiles's neck and lips and offering to go somewhere private.

Derek turned onto his side and shoved his head in under the pillow, hiding from the thoughts as he let himself be taken by sleep.

But that night all he dreamed about was chasing some faceless vermin through the woods; hunting him like he was nothing more than a feral wild wolf, despite still being completely human in the dream.

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Danger came to Beacon Hills in the shape of Faeries.

Tiny winged spirits with a knack for trickery and mayhem. Derek wasn't sure how they ended up in Beacon Hills if they've just been migrating this way, or if someone let them loose. But people were getting hurt by their 'pranks' so they had to put a stop to it.

Tricking Faries was not an easy job in the slightest. But they managed it after a long night of chasing and fighting, finally trapping the three in silver cages and handing them over to Deaton; who swore he knew how to handle them and remove them from Beacon Hills safely.

The pack headed separate ways and most of them followed Derek back to the house. They arrived home just as the sun began to come up. Derek, still too anxious and worked up to sleep, went straight to work on the downstairs bathroom. He began preparing the grout to lay the tiles in place on the floor.

As he was checking the leveling of the pitch, he heard Stiles, "Need some help."

"Not really," Derek shrugged. It was a small bathroom, only enough room for one person to stand comfortably in between the sink and the toilet. Stiles sighed and started backing away.

Derek frowned and shook his head, not meaning to have come across as cold as he did.

"Actually, you can pass me tiles?" He offered, trying to brighten his tone. Stiles was plopped down just outside the doorway in a second. He smiled v\softly, almost unnoticeable, if it hadn't been for the fact that Derek noticed every detail about Stiles.

"You all grumpy with me for not staying behind like you said?"

"I'm not grumpy." He defended. Stiles gave him a look. "Yes." He sighed as if he was admitting to something as embarrassing as wetting the bed until you're fifteen.

Stiles chuckled, watching him work.

"You're not the only one that worries about everyone you know." Derek spared him a loot while reaching for a tile. "I know I'm human, der. You don't have to remind me that I don't heal, and I'm in more danger than most of you, but I still get this feeling that if I'm not there-"

Derek paused what he was doing to sit back and give Stiles his attention. Stiles started at him for a bit before continuing.

"I want to be there to look after you guys too. We've had close calls before, and nearly lost people. If I cared any less I'd listen to you when you tell me to stay back and out of the way, but I just have thing feeling that I need to be there in case something happens."

Derek gave him a sad smile. "And what if that something happens to you?"

Stiles frowned and lowered his head, shrugging. "If I can help, there's not really anything you can do to stop me from trying."

"Yeah," Derek nodded. "So I've learned."

Stiles chuckled and handed Derek another tile, smiling at him as he took the subtle hint the conversation had ended and turned back to laying the tiles in place. Stiles watched him intently, adoring the alpha.

"You got any plans tonight?" Stiles sighed when he was bored of the quiet.

"Back porch is fixed up, might get someone to help me put together the table, and cheers I ordered. Maybe fire up the grill?"

"That sounds fun." Stiles nodded, a look on his face like he was considering his options.

"You got a better idea?" Derek teased, because Stiles always had something to say about the activities Derek came up with.

"No, I just," He paused and thought to himself a moment. "I met this dude at the party the other night, and he texted me earlier asking if I'd be down to meet up later tonight."

Derek's heart sank a little. Oh, that prick.

"Oh," Derek nodded. He didn't wanna ask questions, he didn't wanna know. So Stiles just nodded.

"If it doesn't take too long I'll swing by after." Stiles delivered the empty promise with a grin. "Save some food for me."

Derek only nodded.

Stiles never showed.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Derek was in a bad mood.

Everyone in the house felt it and kept to their best behavior.

He didn't scowl or glare, he didn't yell or stomp around, he just kept his head down and mouth shut.

It was a Thursday night, and his betas had come over after the Lacross game like they always did. Boyd having joined the team, came along with the other players plus Erica, after every game. Although Jackson never showed, he only made an appearance when Lydia did.

Except tonight was different. Stiles hadn't come.

Apparently, Stiles was invited by the guy he met at the party to hang out after the game. A date.

He got all this from Erica who told him with a look of pity and confusion etched into her feature. Derek said nothing, just nodded, and went on making dinner for those who did show.

After eating they settled into the living room and watched a movie Derek wasn't paying attention to. He'd been on autopilot half the night, stuck in his head wondering about where Stiles was and what he was up to.

He didn't understand why he felt sick in his gut that Stiles was out with someone else.

It just made him feel dizzy with something he didn't have a word for. Every time he pictured Stiles laughing at the guy jokes, playing footsy under the table, holding hands on the walk back to the car, kissing on his front step- his chest tightened painfully.

He knew what this disgusting feeling was now, and he felt pathetic for it.

Derek stood and without a word went up to his room and crawled into bed.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Summer break had officially arrived and Derek was having the boys help him set up the pools in the back yard.

He hadn't seen Stiles in the past few days and it's been both wonderful and absolute agony. He was grateful to have a break from seeing Stiles's smile and shining eyes, hating knowing it was never for him. But he missed it all the same.

Either way, the space between them allowed Derek the room he needed to rebuild his walls. If Stiles was dating this other guy fine, Derek hadn't had a chance anyway. He'd very his heart and settle for just being pack.

The girls sat on the front steps far enough away from the guys on the other side to not hear their conversation. Even with super wolfy hearing.

"So, what happened?" Allison eyed the two who clearly knew more than she did. Both of them are closer to Stiles and Derek, respectively. "I was under the assumption they'd be giving us invitations to the wedding by graduation."

Erica chuckled sadly, "I don't know. But you should've seen Derek when I told him Stiles ditched us to go hang out with Markus."

"I don't know what's gotten into Stiles," Lydia grumbled, she hated being left out of the loop. "Just last month I was giving him advice on how to woo a man. Mind you, Markus was not the man I thought he'd be running off to woo."

"I don't think anyone thought that." Allison sighed.

"It's weird," Erica grumbled. "The past few days honestly feel like my parents are divorced. I only see either or, Stiles gets us on the weekends." Lydia laughed.

"How does that work?" Allison questioned.

"I don't know," The blonde shrugged leaning back on her hands. "I've never really asked. But it's all sort of instinctual. Like Derek is the alpha, he gives orders and dishes out punishments. Stiles is there to comfort our wounds and give Derek a smack upside the head if he's too hard on us."

"Instinctual?" Lydia grimaced. "Wait, like even your wolf thinks Stiles and Derek were on the road to being a thing?"

"Well," Erica sat up and frowned. "Honestly, before Stiles ran off with Merkus after the game and I told Derek about it, I thought they already were. It just made sense. Isaac said something a little while ago when I came over cause 'Mom and Dad are fighting again'. We all just kinda felt it I guess."

"Huh," Allison thought. Lydia smiled, the other two girls eyeing her suspiciously.

"What are you thinking?" Allison asked carefully.

"Oh," She smiled watching a blur jeep pull up the driveway. "Right on queue. Follow my lead ladies."

The two spared a look at each other before watching Stiles climb out of the jeep plastic bag in hand and a box-taped shut- under his arm.

"Hey, where is everyone?" Stiles eyed the house while approaching the girls.

"Outback." Erica supplied with a nod of her head.

"Surprised to see you showed up." Lydia offered, standing and going inside without giving him a chance to respond.

Allison followed without a word and Erica, slightly confused, gave him a quick look before rushing to follow. She didn't understand what Lydia's plan was but he didn't exactly wanna be left alone with him. She was not a fan of awkward situations.

Stiles stood there slightly hurt and very confused.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked following the girls into the kitchen. "What did I do now?" He busied himself unpacking the baked goods into the snack cupboard and the sunscreen he'll be needing later on the counter. He took a second to tuck the box off the side in the corner out of the way.

"It's nothing, Stiles." Lydia sighed, as though she was more hurt than anything else. The other two followed her mellow demeanor and avoided looking at Stiles.

"Okay," Stiles groans, getting a little paranoid. "So either I did something stupid and you're angry with me, or I did something really stupid and hurt your feelings?"

"Stiles," Lydia warned, lifting her hand to stop him from talking. "I don't wanna talk about it here, it's not my place."

"Heh," Stile let out a dry chuckle. "Since when is it not your place to talk about things I did to hurt you?"

"Cause you didn't exactly hurt me." Lydia put up a good front of being frustrated and emotionally exhausted.

The two were so focused on each other, that no one but Allison saw Erica's eyes widen and head start to shake as she motioned to the doorway leading out the back of the house.

"So I did do something stupid and hurt someone's feelings." Stiles nodded like he was finally getting to the bottom of it. "What happened?"

"Stiles," Lydia gave him a firm glare like it was supposed to be obvious what he did. Stiles just freaked out a bit at the knowing accusation in her tone and shrugged exasperated. "You broke things off with Derek!" She said louder than she really needed to.

Stiles blinked, obviously confused. "What?"

Erica cleared her throat, making the two look towards her and Allison who just started at something over their shoulders shifting awkwardly.

Stiles, mouth still slack with complete and utter confusion followed their gaze and looked to see Isaac and Derek standing there looking just as awkward. Well maybe, that was more Isaac.

"Um," Isaac cleared his throat daring a glance at Derek who stood completely still and stoic. "Pools ready."

Stiles looked around at each face in the room, all of them looking at him with uncertainty and then to Derek with sympathy.

"What?" Stiles asked again more exasperated. He gave everyone a look one last time before addressing the room as a whole, "There wasn't ever any breaking things off, me and Derek were never together."

"You weren't?" Issac asked completely unsure, looking to Derek for confirmation.

"Yea-" Stiles rolled his tongue along his lips and put his hands on his hips like an offended mother. "I think I'd remember being all up on that." He motioned to Derek who only raised a brow.

"Oh," Isaac nodded, still unsure. "You hen you and Markus... " He trailed off.

"Huh," Now Stiles looked really offended. "As if."

Lydia laughed at the unintended reference before she quieted herself and motioned the girls to ditch the awkward air with her. They all, as though if they moved too fast someone would be angry, stepped out into the hall and went the long way around back, through the front door.

"What is happening?" Stiles looked to the two completely bewildered as to where any of this was coming from all of a sudden.

"Um," Isaac looked to Derek who hadn't moved an inch. "I'm gonna-"

"Hold it!" Stiles raised his hand and pointed an accusatory finger at him. Isaac stopped in his attempt to back out of the room, frozen in place. "What the hell is all this drama about?"

"Um-"

"Say 'um' one more time, I'm gonna burn your scarf."

"Wh-" Isaac pouted for a moment before awkwardly shuffling between his two feet. "We kinda all thought you and Derek were, um-" He froze and dared a glance at a very unamused Stiles and an increasingly amused Derek. "Together, and you've been spending a lot of time with that Markus guy so we figured you two split-"

"That's enough." Stiles waved him away. Isaac was grateful and ran out back without a second glance.

Stiles sighed, facing Derek with a blank stare. Derek looked even more amused about all of this now that everyone was gone.

"You think this is funny?"

"I didn't realize that's the conclusion the pack came to." Was all he said.

"Well, we should probably make some things clear before the kids side with you in the divorce." Stiles scored playfully trying to hide his nervousness. He really didn't expect this to be the way he ended up addressing his and Derek's relationship.

"You think they'd take my side?" Derek raised a brow. "You're the one that spoils them."

Stiles just laughed, it's all he could do. They were standing ten feet apart, dancing around the subject.

Derek took a whiff of the air and smiled at the scent of stiles that became more and more permanent every time he came over. If it weren't for the past few days, and Isaac living here, Stiles was here the most out of everyone.

"So," Derek tried to think of the jerk's name, "Markus, you guys aren't," He made and gesture with his hands, looking away from Stiles.

"No, god no."

"Right," He nodded, "Cause when you came home from that party, you smelled like. . ."

"What?" Stiles tilted his head. He remembered being left in the dark room wondering what made Derek look so uncomfortable, and actually a little angry. He had a hard time trying to sleep cause his mind kept asking questions.

"A stranger, and sex." Derek put it bluntly. Stiles's eyes bulged out of his head and Derek almost laughed.

"What? No," Stiles recoiled in shock, not expecting him to say that.

"Then you started leaving us behind to go hand out with this guy you met at the party." Drek shrugged.

"The dude I met is not-" He stopped himself from saying the word, it sounded too absurd. "I met Markus, he was DD'ing for his friends, we got to talking. He offered to pay me to help him study. That's it!"

Derek nodded in understanding. He didn't need to hear Stile's heartbeat to tell that was the truth.

"Must have been a good amount of money for you to ditch the pack twice," Derek said, not really making it a question. Stiles chewed on his lip as Derek approached the kitchen island and leaned on it. "What?"

Stiles sighed turning to grab the box and placing it on the island and slinging it over to Derek. "The allowance I get from Dad every now and then wouldn't have been enough."

Derek stared at him for a moment before turning his attention to the box curiously and carefully opening it.

"It's just a housewarming gift," Stiles shuffled in place, looking anywhere but Derek.

Derek looked down in the box at stacks of plates and bowls, cups, all individually wrapped. Derek took a plate and gently tore it free from the plastic wrap, examining the intricate royal blue patterns along the edges, and the vibrant red and yellow flowers painted in the center. The flowers are arranged in the vague shape of a wolf, with leaves surrounding it like a nest. The dish was glossy, polished, and shinny, and smelled of somewhere old but clean. turning it over he saw painted in very neat handwriting, "The family is One of Nature's Masterpieces. Proberty of Hale, made by A. Bartosz."

Derek looked up to Stiles who started at the plat in his hands.

"Um, they're hand-painted, I went to a place out in Allens Town. A polish place. You've been using paper plates and stuff so I figured," Stile trailed briefing a look at Derek before returning his gaze to the plate. "In Poland, there's a belief that the beauty of the dish enriches the flavor of the food. You're always cooking for everyone so I thought-" Stiles cut himself off with a sigh and scratched the back of his neck.

Derek carefully set down the plate and walked around to Stiles who was still looking anywhere but him.

Next thing Stiles knew, he was warm. Really warm. Warm around his waist from Derek's arm, warm in his cheek where Derek held, warm on his lips where Derek kissed.

Stiles melted against him with a relieved sigh. It felt like he was in a dream he never wanted to wake up from. A dream the never thought would come true, no matter how many times Lydia told him to go for it.

He lifted his hands and placed them firmly on Derek's chest, one sliding further up to the base of his neck. He had no idea what he was doing, and he was fairly certain Derek knew it based on the rumble of laughter in his chest. But he followed Derek's lead and soon found a rhythm that made Stiles's knees weak.

When Derek finally pulled away, Stiles straight-up whined in protest, earning a chuckle from the alpha.

"Thank you," He smiled softly stroking Stiles's cheek with his thumb.

Stiles was giddy at the affection, smiling dreamily up at Derek. It made something in Derek stir back to life. The walls he tried to build back up the past few days crumbled down around him as Stiles pushed up into another kiss, hands coming up around his neck and into his hair. Derek hugged and his waist and pulled his impossibly closer, sighing in contentment.

"No," They heard a sudden shout, pulling apart and looking to the back door. Erica was moving away with her back to them heading back into the yard. "They're busy eating each other faces!"

"Oh, my god." Stiles groaned. Derek only chuckled turning back to Stiles and pulling him back in.

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

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#sterek fic #stiles x derek #teen wolf stiles #derek x stiles #stiles stilinski #sterek #sterek fanfiction #derek hale #teen wolf derek hale #pack mom stiles #teen wolf

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