#i was thinking a few minutes ago and i decided to really wanted to rewrite NLD because i realized how badly it sucks but. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

okay-j-hannah · 2 months

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Part 8: The Favor

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 2 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, Stiles pining and depressed, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, talk of scars {good}, amnesia, finger picking, AGAIN ANGSTY AS HELL

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: Don't worry

100% recommend listening to rain sounds when you get to the end part where it's a thunderstorm.

Part 7: The Summer Filter

Part 8: The Favor {You Are Here}

“No, I’m sorry, who are you?” The look on your face sends a wave of hurt down Stiles. “How do you know my name?”

He’s gripping the steering wheel of the jeep, cruising with Scott and Allison in the car. Lydia had gone missing about twenty minutes ago, the police at the hospital taking witness statements and rallying an APB.

With you indisposed, the trio decide to take matters into their own hands. That doesn’t mean Stiles is free of the hurt. You really have no idea who he is.

“Alright, but if Lydia’s turning, would they actually kill her?”

Allison is fretful, “I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. Okay, all they say is, ‘We’ll talk after Kate’s funeral when the others get here.’”

“What others?” Stiles looks in the rearview mirror.

“They won’t tell me that, either.”

Stiles sighs, “Okay, your family’s got some serious communication issues to work on.” He yells at Scott whose head is out the window, “Scott, are we going the right way?”

Scott sniffs the rushing air and says, “Take the next right!”

“This is really turning into a real shit night.”

Allison is chewing on her fingers, “(Y/N) really doesn’t remember us?”

“She’s lost her memory from the last few months,” Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. “She remembers last summer but doesn’t remember starting her job at the hospital. That means her memory stops around October of last year.”

“God…” Allison mumbles, “Did they say if her memory would come back?”

Stiles digs his thumb into the ridges of the wheel, “They called it retrograde amnesia, and there’s a chance the memory loss could come back if they treat the underlying cause. But the cause was an anoxic brain, and they just needed to oxygenate her body to fix that. I don’t…” he slams a hand against the wheel as Scott slides back into the car. “This is what happened to…”

“Happened to…?” Allison presses, but it was Scott who answers.

“His mom,” Scott’s voice was quiet and full of sympathy. “There were days she didn’t know who Stiles was.”

Allison looks mortified, “Stiles, I am so…”

“How close are we?” Stiles cuts in, jaw set.

Scott points toward the woods, “It’s coming from that direction. We’re definitely closer – the scent is stronger.”

“There’s no way she’s a werewolf, right?” Allison says in a shaky voice, an attempt to get past the topic of you. Clearly this expedition to save Lydia was a way to distract Stiles. “You said her bite didn’t heal.”

“I know,” Scott frowns, not-so-subtly looking over at his friend to gauge the hurt he was feeling. “Maybe it was a late reaction?”

“I don’t think so,” Stiles muses, tone a little rigid, “This has got to be something else. Peter made it clear that she either turns or she’s dead.”

Scott directs the jeep further into the woods, “Maybe we should try to get ahold of Derek?”

“I’m done being on speaking terms with psychotic alpha werewolves,” Stiles goes off road into the trees and leaf-strewn ground. “I want that guy out of here by the next full moon.”

“Do you think he’ll leave town now that he’s gotten his revenge?” Allison muses, eyeing the back of Stiles’ head just as much as Scott was looking. “He avenged his sister, right?”

Scott shrugs, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants to create a pack of his own.”

“And he can do that somewhere else,” Stiles scoffs, bouncing along with the jeep, “Go back to wherever he was the last six years.”

“(Y/N) wasn’t bitten, right?” Allison asks quietly.

Stiles is quick with the answer, “No, just… she was just thrown around a bit. No teeth action.”

“With all the supernatural stuff happening to us… hearing about (Y/N)’s heart problems just seems so – human, don’t you think?”

Scott gives his girlfriend a warning look, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I think her memory will…”

“Can we drop the whole (Y/N)-amnesia thing?!” Stiles grumbles.

Allison is swift in her retort, “She’s my friend too, Stiles. I’m allowed to be worried about her just as much as you!”

“Let’s not do this right now,” Scott says in a louder voice. “Lydia’s scent is coming from there.”

Stiles parks the jeep, leading the way into the moonlit forest and the house far in the distance. The Hale House. He’s still grumpy as he asks, “She came here? You sure?”

Scott stands back with Allison, hands nearly touching, “Yeah, this is where the scent leads.”

They keep walking, “Alright, but has Lydia ever been here?”

Allison shakes her head, “Not with me. I don’t think with (Y/N) either.” She talks with Scott in hushed tones, “Maybe she came here on instinct, like she was looking for Derek.”

“You mean, looking for an Alpha.”

“Wolves need a pack, right?” she asks, “Would she have been drawn to an Alpha? Is it an instinct to be part of a pack?”

“Yeah, we’re stronger in packs.” They watch Stiles wander around the tree line, inspecting the area as he goes. “Like literally stronger, faster, better in every way.”

They could see the breaths coming from their mouths, it was so cold. Allison pulls her beanie over her ears, “That’s the same for an Alpha?”

Scott nods as something tightens around his ankle and lifts him into the air. Allison muffles a scream and backs away, watching her boyfriend be pulled toward a tree.

Stiles makes a funny choking sound, squatting on the ground and holding a black wire between his fingers, “Sorry, buddy.”

“Stiles, next time you see a tripwire… don’t trip it.”

Allison smiles, cheeks rosy from the cold, “Let’s get….”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Scott flails in the air, waving them off, “Someone’s coming. Hide!”

The pair of them jump into action, Stiles grabbing Allison’s arm to pull her back towards the woods. No sooner had their footsteps soften on the leaves as they hide behind a tree, did a group of hunters appear from the backside of the house.

“Oh, shit,” Allison mumbles into Stiles’ shoulder, “They probably thought about Derek too.”

“I can’t hear anything they’re saying,” Stiles bemoans, “This is stupid.”

Allison clutches his arm, “It’s going to be okay.”

In a quick motion, Stiles slams his head into the tree. Considering they were already pressed into it, the hit wasn’t that hard. “Things are anything but okay.”

~~~

The boys huddle into the locker rooms as Coach yells for them. Isaac fumbles with his equipment, joining the back of the pack.

“Quicker!” Finstock yells, “Danny, put a shirt on.” The coach prattles on, “Stilinski, that means you! Let’s go, gather round. Listen up.”

Isaac searches the office wall behind Finstock, looking for you. You were always near the Coach during team meetings, usually holding an energy drink or pointing out things Finstock failed to mention to the team.

But you are nowhere to be seen.

“Police are asking for help on a missing child advisory. It’s a sick girl, roaming around, totally naked.”

Isaac remembers how the Sheriff questioned him about the same advisory that morning when he reported the strange grave robbery at the cemetery.

“Now, it’s supposed to get below 40 degrees tonight. I don’t know about you, but the last time it was that cold, and I was running around naked… I lost a testicle to exposure. Now, I don’t want the same thing happening to some innocent girl. So police are organizing search parties for tonight.” The Coach brandishes a piece of paper and Isaac can visualize the rolling of your eyes at the poor delivery of the speech.

Finstock tapes the paper to his office window, “Sign up, find the missing girl, you get an automatic ‘A’ in my classes.” He smiles at the instantaneous cheers, but Isaac is of the few standing still.

He holds his duffel bag and looks for you again. There was no way you’d let Coach give students straight A’s like that. You were his voice of reason – the only way classes came out coherently and fairly graded.

A swarm of players rush past him, but Isaac lets his eyes roam until he finds Stiles and Scott. He knew you were friendly with those two, more so than him at least. He walks over to the boys at the shower entrance.

“Um… hey…” he says awkwardly, holding the strap of his bag with two tight hands.

Scott looks taken aback, but is friendly anyways, “Hey, Isaac.”

Stiles is a little more blunt, “What do you want?”

“I uh… I wanted to ask where (Y/N) was,” he wrings his hands, “Usually she’s at these team meetings.” He notices the way Stiles looks to the ground, letting Scott speak first.

“She’s still at the hospital,” he says calmly, “She won’t be back for a while.”

Isaac knits his brow, “Oh, is she okay?” Again, he notices how Stiles scoffs at his shoes.

“Yeah,” Scott says with a lackluster tone, “She’ll be fine. Did you need her for something? We can give her a message.”

“Just… I haven’t seen her in class and – we miss her.” He has a hard time looking them in the eye, “And maybe that Coach is running rampant without her.” His lips upturn ever-so-slightly, “She’ll want to know her assisting is very much appreciated.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles cuts in front of Scott’s laughter. “I didn’t realize you and (Y/N) were close?”

Isaac wipes the smile from his face. “We’re not. Not outside of class at least.” He grinds his teeth, “She’s great. She’s always been kind to me. I’d hate if something happened and I didn’t know about it.”

That seems to appease Stiles, a flash of guilt washing over his face. “Right.”

~~~

The days seem to darken. Even with the promise of spring right around the corner, the world seems dusky, like the sun was a dimmer set low. Stiles’ lens was filtered with gray, shadowing his perspective with melancholia.

He spends his afternoons chasing the supernatural with Scott. But his nights he spends alone – quiet – in his room. He sits at his desk, spinning from side to side to look at the bulletin boards on the walls.

The one directly in front of him was all about you. He had covered it up with a blanket when you slept over that one time. A family picture and a selfie he got from your social media are pinned in the middle. Countless strings are between the picture of you and little bits of information.

A few green strings lead to fun facts like:

Watches true crime

Likes to read

Works at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital

Born in Palo Alto, California

Fireman Tom

Front Desk Westbrook

Atrioventricular canal defect

A yellow string leads from the fact about a congenital heart defect. It spreads to multiple pictures, article clippings, and website screenshots on the heart problem.

“Children born with this condition have a hole in the wall between the heart’s chambers. They also have problems with the valves that control blood flow in the heart.

Atrioventricular canal defect allows extra blood to flow to the lungs. The extra blood forces the heart to work too hard, causing the heart muscle to grow larger.”

“Ventricular tachycardia is a type of irregular heartbeat, called an arrhythmia. It starts in the lower chambers of the heart, called the ventricles. A healthy heart typically beats about 60 to 100 times a minute at rest. In ventricular tachycardia, the heart beats faster, usually 100 or more beats a minute.

Sometimes the rapid heartbeat stops the heart chambers from properly filling with blood. The heart may not be able to pump enough blood to the body. If this happens, you may feel short of breath or lightheaded. Some people lose consciousness.”

He has a red string leading to an unknown section about the 3-inch incision on your chest. After hearing you mention that it was a device inserted near your heart, he did some more research. It might have been an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator, or an ICD.

Those devices detect irregular heartbeats and deliver electric shocks to hopefully restore a regular heart rhythm.

Other blue strings lead to theories he has about why your CHD correction wasn’t permanent, as well as solutions to your persistent tachycardia.

The other side of the board has a few other green strings that lead to a picture of you, Lydia, and Allison. Another is the name ‘Andrew’ written sloppily and then crossed out repeatedly with a ballpoint pen. A few short strings lead to the various situationships in your past and some notes on their kissing techniques.

Overall, Stiles was proud of the research he had conducted on you. But staring at it wasn’t making him feel any better. He was exhausting himself over retrograde amnesia, failing to put those details on your bulletin board.

He was hoping it would correct itself before he had to.

He barely registers that his dad enters the room. “Hey, kid,” he says, void of his sheriff uniform. “How you holding up?”

Stiles shrugs and it pulls a sigh out of Noah. “Listen, I’m glad we were able to find that Martin girl tonight. We should consider that a real victory.” Stiles just nods and Noah continues, “I uh… what in god’s name is that?”

He looks over Stiles’ bulletin board. “Research,” Stiles mumbles.

Noah sounds hesitant, “Right. Um… should I be concerned about this?” He searches his son’s vacant expression, “Like, are you peeping into her windows and stealing things from her underwear drawer?”

“What?” that snaps some life into Stiles, “No! No, dad, it’s not like that. It was a little inside joke from when we first started hanging out. Then it kind of turned into me trying to figure out what her heart problem was.”

Noah looks to the side with the medical research, “You know… uh, the Westbrooks called.”

“And?” Stiles looks up with dull brown eyes.

“And the doctor says (Y/N) should be exposed to things that might trigger her memory back. Stuff that she doesn’t remember.”

Stiles bites at the inside of his cheek, “Like me?”

Noah takes a deep breath, folding his arms. The reserved Stiles before him was disconcerting. “Having you visit might help.” The Sheriff tries to find something helpful to say – his wife was always better at these things. “They’ve had Scott sit with her and she remembers the few times they ran into each other during her early hospital days; back when she was still getting surgeries.”

“I don’t know how I… how do I sit there and…” Stiles leaves his hands limp in his lap. “How am I supposed to help? Pretend that I don’t know anything about her? Act like we’re meeting for the first time?”

“Maybe,” Noah grimaces, “I’d start with keeping this bulletin board to yourself. It might scare her into getting a restraining order.”

Stiles cracks the smallest smile, “How long is she going to be at the hospital?”

“About two or three days,” the Sheriff scratches the scruff on his chin, “They’ll probably keep her from school for even longer.”

“She’ll need to keep up on homework,” Stiles sighs, “She’d hate to miss out on so many assignments.” His small smile grows, “Of course she’s already done with her end of term projects.”

Noah smiles, “Even that biology one you guys were supposed to do together?”

Stiles shrugs, “Honestly, I don’t have a clue.”

They both share a laugh before Noah beckons him, “You should go. I’ll tell Tom you’re on your way.” He looks at his son, nostalgia flooding him.

Little Stiles jumping across waiting room seats. Little Stiles following the nurses around. Little Stiles foraging for snacks in the vending machines. Little Stiles afraid to talk to his mother who didn’t recognize him.

Little Stiles that cried in the hallway while he was busy with a police dispatch.

“Hey, it’ll…” Noah tries, “… it’ll be okay.”

Stiles looks drained, but he smiles at his father’s attempt. “Thanks dad.”

It was a long drive to the hospital. It felt like the world around him was moving in slow motion. It was like his jeep was gliding on the road with no traction. It didn’t help that he let the ringing in his ears be the only source of sound.

There was a tightness in his chest that wasn’t as warm as before. It was accompanied by an anxious knot in his stomach. Hospitals were bad enough. He doesn’t need to be reminded of his mother while he sits with you.

Knots in his shoulders, he walks into the hospital with shuffling steps. He vaguely remembers running into Melissa. He barely notices how the Westbrooks dismiss themselves to grab lunch.

He’s in your doorway and watching the line of confusion grow between your brows. The look of someone meeting a stranger.

And he’s suddenly eight years old again.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he says with a growing lump in his throat.

You fidget with the blanket laying over your legs. Your eyes are uncertain, “Hello. Um… are my parents…?”

“They’re grabbing lunch,” he says, hands in his pockets, “Is it okay if I visit for a bit? The doctor said it might trigger your memory.”

You look reluctant and it pains him. “I guess it’s worth a shot,” you watch him pull a chair over, “I don’t think you told me your name before.”

He tries to swallow past the lump, “Stiles.”

“Stiles,” you say quietly, as if you had never said the name before. “Stiles what?”

“Stilinski.”

Your eyes brighten, “You’re a Stilinski?”

He snorts, “Yeah, my dad’s the sheriff.”

“Woah,” you smile, “Your dad has been to my house a few times.”

Stiles nods, reminiscent of your first conversation together searching the woods for Scott all those weeks ago. “And you’re front desk Westbrook’s daughter.”

That makes you giggle, “I like that nickname.” It grows quiet for a few seconds while you consider his deflated figure. His eyes are downcast and his hands are stuffed in his pockets; you can see his leg starting to bounce. “Are we really good friends?”

His muted brown eyes turn to your brighter ones. “Yeah, we are.”

You nod, “For how long?”

“Since January when the school came back from winter break.”

You give a side smile, “So I did manage to start public school.”

He licks his lips, “Yep. And being a medical assistant here and being a teacher’s assistant to Coach.”

“That’s amazing,” you remark, “I didn’t realize… I’ve been dreaming about doing those things for years, but the fact I did… and I don’t even remember.”

Stiles frowns deep, “You haven’t gotten any of your memory back?”

You shake your head, “I get these flashes sometimes and I can’t tell if they’re dreams or not. Like… blue spray paint on my arms.”

Stiles’ face brightens with hope, “That’s – that’s real! That’s not a dream. We had a spray paint fight when we were fixing my jeep.”

Your eyes snap to his. A strange guilty feeling enters your stomach. It was bad enough disappointing people simply because you couldn’t remember them. Seeing the hope on his face makes you fill with pressure. You two must’ve had a pretty significant friendship.

“What other things have we done together?”

Stiles takes a tight breath, “Well… we’ve had dinner together. You’re an excellent cook. We painted my jeep and took Scott to get drunk on the preserve. We did a few school projects together and hang out at lacrosse practice. I took care of you when you were sick,” he suddenly looks you right in the eye, “I was there when you broke up with Andrew.”

Your eyebrows go up, but you don’t interrupt him.

“I was there when you got those claw marks on your shoulder – and other times you felt in danger,” he swallows hard, “We went to the winter formal together.”

“I went to a school dance?” you breathe out quietly. “Was it amazing? I’ve always wanted to go to a school dance.”

Stiles rubs his suddenly clammy hands down his pants, “It was. You looked great.” At seeing the light shining in your eyes, he continues. “You wore a dress that had these sparkling stars on it. The… y-you let the scars on your chest show. You were… you looked beautiful.”

“Did we slow dance?”

“Yeah, we did,” he sighs, chest aching. “It was the only dancing you could do that didn’t mess with your heart.”

You feel a drop of insecurity enter, “How much do you know about my heart?”

“I know about the heart defect and the tachycardia,” he rubs at his face. He could really take advantage of the situation here and learn more about your condition. But as quick as the thought came, it left. He wasn’t going to manipulate you like that. “I know you had a device put in last summer.”

“And that’s it?” you ask quietly. “I didn’t tell you more?”

“You always felt like it wasn’t the right time,” he shrugs, “But I suppose you might feel differently once your memory comes back.”

You brush your hair away, “I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

A sadness creeps into him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry. I hate seeing the disappointment,” you gesture to his slumped figure, “I really am trying.”

“I believe you,” Stiles says with a little more vigor.

Your eyes are a little wide as you say, “My mom told me you were the one to find me and bring me here.”

Stiles bows his head, visions of your bloodied figure going purple from the lack of oxygen. “Like I said… it’s not your fault.”

“And you’re saying it’s yours?” It was an honest question, but you said it with such sarcasm that it takes you aback to see the seriousness on his face. He really believes it was his fault. “From what I hear, you saved me Stiles.”

“Not all of you,” he winces a smile, leaning back in the chair, “If I had been sooner… maybe your heart wouldn’t have given out in the parking garage.”

“You don’t know that,” you say quietly. You may not recognize the boy, but it upset you to think he was blaming himself for your condition. “Regardless of whatever retort you can think of… you brought me to help. If you hadn’t done that then I would’ve been dead for sure.”

He doesn’t see the point in arguing with a version of you that doesn’t even know him. “Maybe. How has your heart been since being here?”

“Fine,” you say quickly, “I’m ready to get back home.”

“Ollie misses you,” he smirks.

You gush, “Oh my god, you know Oliver! He’s my handsome little man.”

“That he is…” Stiles laughs, “Very handsome.” He plays with his fingers, leg still bouncing from the rising anxiety in his stomach. “Is this helping with your amnesia at all?”

Your shoulders rise in a shrug, “I’m not sure. Nothing has come to me yet. But I do like talking to you.” You have a sweet smile on your face, “You mentioned I was dating someone named Andrew?”

“Just for like two weeks,” he says hotly.

You don’t notice, “I told myself I wouldn’t ser…”

“…seriously date anyone,” Stiles finishes, “That’s why you broke up. He was looking for something long term with you.”

Curious, you tilt your head to the side. “Was he cute?”

Stiles snorts, “Well… I guess. You had a crush on him.” He tries to stop his leg bouncing, “You have good taste too, he’s a good guy.”

“Is that why we went to the dance together?” you wonder, “Because I broke up with Andrew?”

“Technically we both went stag,” he says with a faux smile. A forced smile to keep you at ease. “But it was important to you to have the full experience – so I asked.”

You sigh, leaning against your pillows in thought, “You don’t realize how lucky you are to live such an average teenage life.” Stiles holds back his sarcastic laugh. What you said was so ironic. “I spent a lot of my life dreaming about the little things – silly things – like high school dances and playing sports and learning to drive.”

“Wait…” Stiles leans forward, “You don’t know how to drive?”

“No, I do,” you say defensively, “I have a license, technically.” You slump a little further, “But medically I’m not allowed to drive. The potential for fainting is a big red flag for driving. I don’t want to cause any accidents because my heart decided to give out on the road.”

Stiles has a wary smile on his face. “That’s okay, I drive you everywhere.”

“Is that with the jeep you mentioned?”

“Yep, my pride and joy,” he says, “It was my mom’s. She called him Roscoe.”

You remember how the Sheriff lost his wife. Something your parents told you after a few visits from him. You remember feeling sad that someone had died. Now you realize how sad it would be for a child to lose their mom as well.

“And we fixed him up one time?” You want to hear him talk more.

“Yeah, we put a new hood on him,” Stiles sighs out a smile. “You kept poking fun at how… how much duct tape and spray paint I have for him.”

You have a sweet smile on your face, “You want the car to last, I get it. Probably will be just duct tape by the time you turn him in.”

“Oh no,” Stiles waves his hands, “I’m going to keep this jeep for the rest of my life, even if it runs down. I’ll import custom parts to keep him fixed, I don’t care. I just need to find a way to make enough money to.”

You giggle and it strikes Stiles.

“What sort of job would that be?”

“I don’t know, maybe like an FBI agent or something.”

“FBI…” you nod, impressed, “That’d be cool.”

Stiles swallows, unsure of how to keep a conversation going with you. That was a feeling he wasn’t used to. It was so easy to talk to you before. He hates the awkward edge he feels brimming his smile.

“What about you?”

“Another one of those silly things I dream about,” you say sadly, “I don’t know what I’d do.”

His brow knits, “Spitball some ideas for me.”

You laugh again, “Maybe… a writer. Or maybe I’d open a cat rescue. Even better, what if I opened a cat café where you could read and buy books and pet cats.” The more you talk, the easier it was to spill your dreams. “I could be a nurse one day. Maybe work under a cardiothoracic surgeon. I could also just be a stay-at-home mom.”

Stiles feels that achy warmth in his chest more and more. “You want a family?”

“Of course,” you say as if it were the easiest decision in the world. “I always hated being an only child. It made being stuck at home so much worse. I’d want a bunch of kids.”

“How much is a bunch?”

You smirk, “I don’t know, like ten maybe.”

“Ten!?” Stiles jerks in his chair and it makes you laugh louder than before.

You wave a hand, “I’m kidding. I think four might be my max.”

Stiles wipes at his brow comically and your following giggle keeps that ache pulsing in his chest. “I think all those ideas are great. I think I’d even read a book written by you.”

“Are you not a big book reader?” you ask.

He winces, “If it’s not for research I don’t usually partake.”

“That’s a shame. There’s some really good fiction out there,” you smile. But there’s a sudden shift in your expression. “Have we had this conversation before?”

Stiles feels a tug at his heart, “No, actually. We don’t talk about the future much. Usually it’s whatever has happened in the past before we met – or what our friends are up to.”

You nod, a little reassured. “I would hate it if you just pretended like you didn’t already know this stuff about me.”

“When it comes to you, (Y/N),” he says confidently, “I’d say I’m scarily unfiltered. I say things to you that I don’t to anyone else. I don’t think I could pretend.” Even with his feelings for you – they came out in the littlest of ways without him voicing them directly.

That puts the smile back on your face, “It makes me sad not remembering you. It sounds like we got along really well.”

“We did,” he says quickly, “We do.”

You pull at the edge of your cotton blanket, “Our friends seem nice too – Allison and Lydia.”

“Nice might be a little kind for Lydia,” Stiles laughs, “Maybe a faux cold-hearted rich bitch is more appropriate.” He feels proud to rouse a look of shock on your face, “She’s all talk at school, but she has a good heart and is super smart. Just don’t get on her bad side.”

You chuckle, “And Scott sat with me a couple times. He looks different than what I remembered.”

“It’s been almost six months from where you memory ends,” he says, “That makes sense to me.”

“Do you…” you falter, “Do you think I will remember eventually?”

God, I hope so, he thinks. “I think you’ll get a few things back,” he says honestly, “I don’t know about everything. Amnesia is stupid like that.”

You frown, “Will you still – hang out with me?”

“Of course,” he says instantly, “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know it’s probably overwhelming.”

“It is,” you push back your hair again, “But I still want to try.”

~~~

The next week is full of anxiety. With spring right around the corner, March appears with sunny days and average temperatures. The promise of rain was on the way. It was nearing the next full moon and Stiles was full to the brim with nerves.

You still hadn’t come back to school, and he was finding it hard to come visit you. Meanwhile he and Scott try to tackle school one day at a time. Scott finds ways to see Allison while the overly watchful eyes of her grandfather become an increasing pressure.

The old man, Gerard, was still living at the Argent residence after his daughter’s funeral. His presence brought a newfound fear to the group.

He was the one at your door when you heard it knock.

“Hello, (Y/N),” he says with a smile. “I’m Mr. Argent, the new principal at Beacon Hill High.”

You blink a few times before awkwardly saying, “Right, um… hello.”

He raises his eyebrows, “May I come in?”

You look behind your shoulder for a moment before muttering, “Sure, we can sit here.” You gesture to the sitting room with the piano just beside the door. The older man nods his thanks and finds a seat in a comfy armchair.

You follow and sit on the loveseat opposite him. “How can I help you?”

“I’m just checking in on your progress since leaving the hospital. Many of your teachers have asked about you returning. I understand you experienced some memory loss the night of the school dance.”

“Yes,” you say, sitting on your hands, “I don’t remember any of it.”

He leans his elbows on his knees, looking at you seriously, “And you haven’t regained anything?”

“I get these flashes sometimes,” you mutter, looking towards the carpet beneath your toes. “But those seem like dreams to me. I don’t recognize them.” At his persistent look, you elaborate, “Like visiting the mall or a lacrosse field or the woods.”

He nods, “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have any intention of returning to public school?”

You swallow hard, “Well, um… seeing as I don’t remember any of it – I think it would be hard to pick up where I left off.”

“Our staff is willing to accommodate to your situation,” he finally leans back, “We’ll give you special permission to use more resources and have extension time on all assignments. We want to make sure you’re comfortable in returning.”

“That’s good to know,” you say, noticing Oliver enter the sitting room. He jumps onto the couch with you, “I’ll need to talk to my parents about it.”

Gerard gives another strange smile, “Of course. Are you getting any of your course work from friends at least?”

You grimace – does he mean the friends you don’t remember? “I’ve had a few homework things dropped off.”

“Some from my granddaughter, I believe,” he chuckles, “She’s always had a good heart, that one.”

“Who is your granddaughter?”

“Allison Argent,” he says.

You widen your eyes, “Oh, yes – Allison. She’s been helping me with some assignments. I didn’t realize her grandfather was the principal.”

“Like I said, my position is relatively new.” He claps his hands together, “Please reach out to the office if you plan on returning full time.”

Meanwhile, in the middle of town, Stiles and Allison are at a hardware store looking for something to help Scott with the upcoming full moon. Allison was intent on being involved this month, her first full moon since learning the truth of it all.

“You used handcuffs last time?”

“On the radiator, yeah,” Stiles grumbles, looking at the shelves stocked with tools. “And he still got out and almost killed (Y/N).”

Allison gasps softly, “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. If Derek hadn’t shown up, I think he would’ve…” he stops at the end of the aisle, “We need something that won’t break as easily. Heavy duty.”

“Like… chains?”

Stiles waggles a finger at her, “I like your thinking.” He checks the signs above each aisle for what they need. “We can chain him up somewhere until the moon sets.”

She follows, her intentions on more than just helping Scott with the full moon. “(Y/N)’s told me you haven’t been visiting her.”

It’s like she can see the tension knot in his shoulders. His sneakers squeak on the tile floor, “And you have been?”

“I’ve been helping her keep up to date on our school assignments.” She watches the hunch develop in his posture. It was like he was deflating before her eyes, “Don’t you remember the doctor said exposing her to things she…”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles says a little more coldly than before. “It’s just that…” He spots the chains and goes for them.

How does he tell Allison that seeing you might finally break his already tearing heart? He’s sure seeing the look in your eyes again – the polite look someone gives a stranger – would kill him. How does he explain the pain he feels knowing you don’t remember a single memorable thing you’ve done together? It was a new kind of rejection.

He prefers daydreaming about the you that knows him. The you that he feels more deeply about than anyone else before. The you that he now searches for in his sleep. It was now his favorite time of day.

Sleep meant he could dream about you. He could see you there, smelling of sparkling strawberries by the lake – looking like a sun warmed burst of color. He yearned for that peachy summer filter your presence brought to his life.

His days were dull without you. Like the world resorted to turning the brightness down because its sun had disappeared.

“I’ve been…”

“… distracting yourself?” Allison offers.

He grips a coiled pile of chains and pulls them over his shoulder, “Maybe. The full moon kind of takes priority the next couple of days.”

“Do you think (Y/N)’s in danger?”

“Not if this idea works,” he grumbles under the weight of the metal links. They walk towards the registers. “And with you helping it might make things easier.”

Allison pulls out some cash so they can split the cost. “First searching for Lydia, then looking into a new beta werewolf, now making plans for the full moon… you’re going to run out of distractions eventually.”

I’ll just sleep then, he thinks. You’ll be waiting for him there.

“Let’s tackle this first,” he says.

Allison sighs her frustration. “I wish there was a way we could just… reach in and pull the memories out, you know? Make her remember.”

Stiles drops the full weight of the chains on his foot, and he curses loudly, “Ah, fuck!” He bounces on his unhurt foot, panting as he has a stroke of brilliance.

Maybe there was a way to force your memories to the surface.

~~~

Scott is lying on your living room floor, Ollie hiding upstairs from the doggish presence. You’re sitting cross legged on the couch ottoman, listening to his woes.

“So you think the principal became the principal to spy on your secret relationship with Allison?”

“No, there’s got to be more to it than that,” Scott grumbles, arms splayed to either side. “He’s looking for something more. The Argents are… very loyal to their ideals. Once they set their minds to something – they accomplish it no matter what.”

“And by becoming principal, Mr. Argent is trying to accomplish… total domination over teenagers?”

Scott sighs out a laugh, sitting up, “Maybe. I’m sorry – I’m venting too much. It’s got to be super confusing for you.”

You shrug, “Just a little. I’m starting to piece things together.” You start to pick at your nails, a nervous habit you’ve been more partial to since the hospital. “Allison has been a big help. I think Lydia is still recovering from the attack, more than me at least.”

“And Stiles?”

You frown, “I haven’t seen him.”

Scott matches your frown, “He’s taken it pretty hard.”

“I thought as much,” you pick at your cuticles, “Why do you think that is?”

Sensing the touchy subject, Scott looks to the ground. “We all deal with hard stuff in our own way.”

“But he told me he still wanted to see me,” you say confusedly, “Even if I didn’t remember everything.”

“I think he holds a lot of guilt for the memory loss,” Scott defends, “He uh… he cares a lot.”

“I sort of got that from his last visit,” you wince, “I guess I wouldn’t want to be reminded of something I consider a failure.”

Scott furrows his brow, “You being alive isn’t a failure, (Y/N).”

“My amnesia is, though,” you sigh, “But it’s got me thinking… maybe there’s more to why he thinks of it as a failure.”

“What do you mean?”

You swallow, “I don’t know. It’s hard trying to figure this whole thing out. It’s like I’m trying to give a summary on a book I never read.”

“We’ve done that plenty of times in English class,” Scott smiles warily.

You chuckle at the joke. “I mean, I’m seeing the end of the movie without any plot. I don’t know what to make of anything I see. I hear of all these things I did, and it just feels like I’m out of the loop. I’m being told about someone I don’t even know.”

Scott nods at your words, happy to be your confidant. “It sounds hard.”

“And even with that, everyone is making an effort to stay connected to me. Everyone I don’t remember. Allison does homework with me, you vent to me about Allison, the hospital has put my work schedule on hold, the high school is making accommodations, even Lydia has texted me.” You grimace as you pull at the skin around your nail. Part of a cuticle tears away, “So why hasn’t Stiles? Why is he different?”

Scott bites his tongue. “This whole thing might mean something a little different for him.”

“In what way?”

“Just you,” he swallows, “You mean something different to him.”

“You mean, because he was the one who saved my life?”

Scott clenches his jaw, “Yeah, something like that.”

You suck on your finger. It stings where you tore the cuticle away. You taste blood on your tongue.

“We should do something,” Scott decides, “We should get the friends together and hang out.”

“And do what?” you ask, standing to find a band-aid.

Scott follows you to the hallway closet, “You have a firepit in the backyard. Maybe we roast some marshmallows?”

“You don’t think it might rain?” you wrap a plain brown band-aid around your finger. It almost surprises you to see two other fingers with the same bandage around the nail. “It’s been cloudy all week.”

“No, I think we’ve got a few more days before the weather gets real bad,” Scott waves a hand at you, “Would your parents be okay with it?”

“Sure,” you shrug, “My mom would probably be thrilled.”

Scott is already texting on his phone, “Perfect. I’ll let everyone know – do you have firewood?”

“Are you kidding?” you laugh, “My dad keeps the shed fully stocked. Marshmallows and everything.”

“It looks like Lydia is going to be at her dads place tonight,” Scott grimaces at his phone, “But Allison is available.”

You watch the dopey lovestruck smile grow on his face, “Won’t it… won’t it be terribly awkward for everyone? You guys have history to talk about while I… I don’t remember meeting any of you.”

Scott shifts his face into a serious expression, “That doesn’t mean we don’t want to still hang out with you.”

You fist your bandaged fingers into the pockets of your sweats. “I guess I can see it as a chance to get to know you guys better.”

“We could play like truth and dare, or answer get to know you questions,” Scott chuckles.

The next half hour has you creating a s’more station outside while Scott brings over a pile of firewood. He’s just exploring the depths of the shed when Allison appears, the sunset illuminating her in flattering light.

“Hey!” you say, glad to see her again, “I was just laying out the chocolate.”

Allison gives you a hug, eyeing her secret boyfriend carrying an armful of wood from the shed. “Perfect. Let me help with the camping chairs.” She hops over to kiss Scott before taking the covers off the chairs.

“Have you talked with Lydia recently?” you help move the seating around the firepit, “She was a little frazzled the last time I saw her.”

“She was a little shy coming back to school,” Allison admits, “But Lydia has always exuded a kind of confidence, even if she doesn’t especially feel it. The whole school was gawking at her, and she strut down the hallway like nothing happened.”

You nod, a smile of gratitude on your face, “I’m glad.” You notice how Allison deliberately set the chairs in two pairs across from each other, on either side of the firepit. She plans to sit by Scott, and across the fire, you sit by Stiles. “Is Stiles for sure coming?”

“He told me he would,” Scott throws a few more logs on their pile, “Just that he’d be late.”

As Scott was making a tent of wood in the firepit, a grumbling engine could be heard pulling in front of the house. You sit in your chair, matching cream colored sweatshirt and sweatpants on. You even had a green and blue flannel on over the sweatshirt for an added layer of warmth. It was something you just found in your closet.

Stiles appears walking around the house, hands in his pockets. His lips are in a thin line as he waves a hand in hello.

“How are you, Stiles?” Allison asks, ever the polite one.

He shrugs, eyes flitting between the remaining seats. He knows his best friend will want to sit beside his girlfriend. “I’m alright.”

Your eyebrows knit. Stiles doesn’t look very alright. He looks like he could collapse from exhaustion at any second.

“Hey, grab me some of that kindling, would you?” Scott says, kneeling beside the firepit and crumpling old newspapers into flammable balls.

Stiles leans down for a box of splintered wood and shaved bark. He gives the pieces for Scott to create a nest in the heart of the pit.

You fold your arms as the sun fully sets and the stars become more visible across the indigo sky. You observe the wrinkled nature of Stiles’ clothes – the dark rings beneath his eyes. He looks a little worse for wear.

“This is my first fire of the season,” Allison says, crossing her legs and admiring how Scott sets the kindling aflame, “I love having campfires.”

“Me too,” Scott says warmly, standing to go sit beside his girlfriend, “I’m a fiend for toasted marshmallows.”

“I like them a little on the burnt side,” she says in reply, enjoying how he easily slips his fingers between hers.

Stiles stands as the kindling burns more brightly, sending plumes of smoke into the air. His eyes find your form tightly wrapped in your chair. There’s a flicker of something sad in his gaze – guilt, pity, pain?

He walks around the pit and sits in the camping chair beside you. It was more like he collapsed in the chair, the legs scraping on the stones littering the ground.

“What about you?” you ask timidly.

Stiles looks at you with tired eyes, “Sorry?”

“How do you like your marshmallows roasted?”

His eyes are still sad, but something quirks in his lips, “Golden brown – although that’s dangerously close to burnt and that happens more often than I care to admit.”

“I don’t have patience for roasting marshmallows,” you say begrudgingly, “They’re never exactly what I want. I eat them too fast.”

Stiles swallows hard, moving his limbs slowly as if any faster would give him a headache. He spears two marshmallows on the end of a roasting stick. “And if you had patience for marshmallows – what would they look like?”

“I like them golden too,” you smile, “A little or a lot is fine with me. I just don’t like them burnt.”

“It gives them flavor!” Allison defies, “And it’s fun blowing them out when they catch fire.”

“Until they melt right off the stick,” Scott laughs, “And they burn in the pit like Anakin near the lava pools.”

You giggle, a strange flash of a dream crossing your mind. Yourself wearing a star wars t-shirt with a blue and green flannel. The same flannel you have on now. Was it a dream… or a memory? Was it like the strange memory of blue spray paint on your arms?

There was something stirring in your stomach. You could mistake it for anxiety or the painful churning of your insides – but something was trying to pry itself out of you. Watching Stiles rotate the roasting stick against the firepit was sending waves of familiarity through you.

The campfire reminds you of Stiles in a way. He reminds you of autumn and woods and campfire smoke. It makes you think of fallen leaves and flashlights and flannels.

Just as you remind Stiles of summertime – he reminds you of autumn.

“Did you hear about Isaac’s dad?” Allison suddenly speaks.

Scott sighs, “Yeah, he was taken out of lacrosse practice today to talk to the police.”

“I don’t think he has a strong case of his innocence,” Stiles mumbles.

“What happened to Isaac’s dad?” you ask, unsure of who Isaac even was.

Scott clears his throat, checking his marshmallow by pinching the soft white fluff. “He was murdered.”

Something cold and steely takes ahold of your limbs, “Oh my god, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it happened during the last rainstorm,” Scott continues, “I think they suspect Isaac.”

“Why would he kill his own father?” you ask with a slanted brow.

Allison prepares some graham crackers and chocolate, “I don’t think they had a very good relationship.”

“You could say that,” Stiles scratches at his neck, “Seeing as he comes to school with new bruises weekly.”

A small gasp escapes you, “That’s awful…”

“You’ve actually helped Isaac with it before,” Stiles says, “You’ve taken him to your house and cleaned him up after a fight.”

You find it hard to swallow, “I’m glad someone did. Has there ever been an investigation at the house for child abuse?”

“Not that I know of,” Stiles sighs, “Isaac has never wanted any trouble.”

“That doesn’t make any of it okay,” you say more to yourself, “Is he still being questioned?”

“I think my dad might take him into the station tomorrow for further questioning,” Stiles says.

You tilt your head towards him, “As in, Isaac is going to be arrested?”

“I’m not sure,” Stiles says quietly, “I wouldn’t be surprised seeing as he’s their biggest suspect with a damning motive.”

You don’t realize your fingers are searching for more tender skin to pick at around your nails. Scott puts his toasted marshmallow on a prepared cracker and proceeds to set another on fire. Allison giggles as she smashes one s’more down.

“I haven’t seen Isaac,” you say quizzically.

Scott presents the marshmallow aflame on his roasting stick for Allison to blow it out. “He’s been asking about you though.”

Stiles removes his marshmallows from the fire as well. “He says Coach has been unreliable and chaotic since you’ve left.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Because I’m his TA?”

“He may be your superior, but that man is hopeless without you,” Scott laughs, “I honestly don’t know how Coach has kept his job as long as he has.”

Stiles is preparing two s’mores beside you, layering a graham cracker and chocolate with golden brown marshmallows. You are picking at your unbandaged fingers terribly.

Scott and Allison are preoccupied with feeding each other sticky s’mores while you stare into the dancing flames of the fire. You wince at a sharp pain. Looking down you see your fingers have pried a sliver of skin from around a nail. It stings being exposed to the nighttime air and a blossom of blood speckles the tender skin beneath.

A large hand enters your vision – long fingers reaching for yours. He pulls your injured hand away and inspects the bandages on your fingertips. He places a readymade s’more in your palm. “What’s happened to Isaac isn’t your fault,” he says quietly, “Neither is Coach being manic – that’s nothing new.”

You watch his hand pull away, fisting in his lap as if regretful to touch you without your permission.

Taking a deep breath, you look at the perfectly cooked s’more, “Man, there weren’t even coals yet,” you say with mustered warmth. “This looks amazing.”

You catch him staring at your smile. The tiredness is evident in his look, but the fondness that warms his eyes is undeniable. He holds his hands together like he fears they’ll move for you if he didn’t.

The gooey marshmallow sticks to the sides of your face as you eat. It’s exactly how you like it, and you can’t help giggling at the sticky sweetness melting on the chocolate.

Stiles is watching you with something sad and sweet in his face.

“Thank you,” you say, cracker crumbs littering your lips. “You didn’t have to make me one.”

“I wanted to,” he says in return. “I wanted to see if that marshmallow would stay on the cracker or not.”

You snort with a full mouth. Bits of sticky fluff are on most of your fingers and stuck to your cheeks. You flick your fingers, seeing how some of the marshmallow was gripping the fraying fibers of your band aids.

“Oh, shoot,” you shake a hand free of crumbs. “I’ll be right back.”

As you rise from your chair, Stiles grips the arms of his – like he was about to stand with you. His eyes follow you all the way to the back door.

Scott clears his throat loudly and Allison nibbles the marshmallow from her fingers.

“What?” Stiles questions, still on the edge of his seat.

Scott wiggles his eyebrows, “You know what.”

Allison licks her lips and nods toward the house, “Take the chance.”

“Ah… god.” Stiles slips out of the chair, tripping on his way to the house. He opens the door and spies you starting to open new band aids at the kitchen counter.

“Oh!” you say sharply, “Hey – everything okay?”

“Um…” his throat was suddenly very dry, “I just – wanted to see if you needed help.” He walks to the counter and sees the pile of marshmallow coated band aids. “I know it can be hard to… wrap those on your fingers by yourself.”

You feel shy, hesitant to display your fingers, “That… that’d be nice, thank you.”

He ignores how your hands shake, unwrapping a band aid and picking a finger with raw skin around the fingernail. Some were scabbed over, and others were still wet with exposed, tender skin.

He’s soft in how he holds your hand, gently wrapping the band aid. “I’ve never seen you pick at your fingers before.”

“Me neither,” you say quietly, “I guess it’s just a new nervous habit.”

“What was making you nervous?” he asks just as quietly. He keeps his gaze on your hands, his own oddly cold against yours.

It leaves you free to look at his face without fear. You never noticed how thick his eyelashes were. You suspect they frame his bronze eyes well, especially when they were well rested. He also has a constellation of moles across his face.

You were tracing them with your eyes as you say, “I guess I was feeling guilty again for losing my memory. It sounds like people need me… the old me.”

I need you, Stiles thinks, upset at how the guilt was presenting itself in you. “But none of it is your fault.”

“That doesn’t stop the fact that lots of problems would be solved if I could just remember.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with hidden emotion, “I… I could’ve… if I had just stayed with you…”

Your brows knit as he applies a third bandage. “It’s not your fault either, Stiles. We’re both doing the best that we can.”

He clenches his jaw, “Maybe we should put band aids on all your fingers so you’re not tempted.”

You snort, “Thank you for helping me.”

Stiles smiles and again you’re struck by another one of his features. Stiles is cute, you think, he’s really cute. “You’re welcome,” he says.

He holds your hands for a second before lifting them to his lips. He kisses each of your bandages in a chaste, silly way. “Make-it-better kisses,” he says almost dreamily – remembering a past memory, “Your specialty.”

You’re stuck on the way his mouth hovered over each of your fingers. “You learned well, apparently.”

“You’re basically cured,” he smiles again, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Make-it-better kisses are a medical miracle, so they say.”

You nod slowly, “Maybe I just need a couple more of those to get my memory back.”

Stiles’ eyes blow wide, “Oh… oh my god – that’s not what I… I didn’t mean to insinuate – I mean, not that I’d be upset to do… ah, shit, I’m messing this up.”

Giggles are falling out of you faster than Stiles is running his mouth. “Stiles, I was meaning a forehead kiss. Help fix my brain.”

He lets out a loud sigh, “Of course – of course that’s what you meant.” He’s jerky and hesitant and terribly endearing as he leans over to place an awkward kiss to your temple.

~~~

The jeep stops with a jolt in front of the sheriff’s station. Through the blinds Stiles and Derek see a woman behind the counter.

Somewhere in the holding cells is Isaac, being held on suspicion of his father’s murder.

“Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office,” Stiles says. He grits his teeth, “The problem is getting past front desk Westbrook.”

It was Angela on duty, filling out her part on police reports behind the counter.

“I’ll distract her,” Derek says nonchalantly.

Stiles freaks, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he grabs Derek’s leather jacket, “You? You’re not going in there.”

Derek looks at the hand on his jacket like it might be his next snack.

“I’m taking my hand off,” Stiles says quickly. “That is Angela Westbrook in there – you can’t just ‘distract her.’” He uses air quotation marks.

“Sure, I can.”

“She’s married!”

Derek shrugs, “And I’m charming.”

“You’re a criminal!”

“I was exonerated.”

Stiles licks his lips, “You’re still a person of interest, and trust me, Westbrook is the last person you want to mess with. She almost always hangs up when I try to call the station.”

“That’s because you’re a hyperactive, overexaggerated teenage boy and I’m…” he adjusts his collar, “A handsome innocent person of interest that looks really good in leather.”

The look of acceptance in Stiles’ face was laughable. He couldn’t deny any of those points. “Fine. Try and charm her and see what happens.”

They wait as another police officer appears to talk to Angela, looking like they were about to head home for the night. It’s the opportunity Stiles needs to talk to Derek about one more tiny favor.

“So with me helping with this whole Isaac fiasco… I was thinking maybe you could do something for me.”

Derek whips his head over, “Excuse me?”

“A favor for a favor.”

“You know I could just walk in, knock everyone out, and break into that lockbox, right? I don’t actually need you.”

Stiles lifts his hands in protest, “You do if you want to remain an innocent person of interest!”

Derek stares him down uncomfortably, “What favor?”

~~~

The new spring rain was finally here, starting with a light sprinkle. You are on the couch, your favorite forest green blanket over your socked feet. Oliver is snuggled on your lap, enjoying the way your stomach rocked him back and forth with your breaths.

Angela sits with you, warming her hands on a mug of tea she brewed for you. “Chamomile and lavender,” she says.

You sigh, “Good for stress.” You give her a knowing look, paired with a smile.

“And sleep,” she says, “I’ll probably pass out in about ten minutes.” She laughs and then clears her throat, “You know, there was something super strange that happened at the station the other day.”

“What was it?” you ask, excited that your mom wanted to share about her workdays again. She had been worried about putting stress on your heart by telling you those stories.

She looks worried now, “It was a little chaotic.”

“Please, mom,” you say, “We haven’t just talked in a while.”

Angela seems to agree, taking a big gulp of her tea. “Well, we had a boy in holding for a murder – no, I won’t tell you who. And Derek Hale came in to talk to me.”

“Hale,” you mutter, “Wasn’t that the name of the family whose house…”

“Burned down, yes,” Angela says, “And while he was there, the boy broke out of holding and an officer I’ve never seen before was knocked out on the ground.” She shakes her head, “I have no idea how any of that happened on my watch. The poor officer had an arrow in his leg and everything.”

“Oh my god, from what?” you ask with pursed lips.

Angela shrugs her shoulders, “The Sheriff is looking into it, but I’m not sure. His son was by the holding cells when he got there.”

“That Stiles guy?”

She nods, suddenly looking at you with warmth – a question in her eyes. “That’s right. He’s a good kid. A strange one, but good.”

“Did you…” you start to say, “Did Stiles and I hang out a lot?”

Angela swallows, “You did. He thought we couldn’t hear all the times he climbed the garden trellis,” she smirks, “But your father and I aren’t that dumb.”

You scoff in surprise, “He climbed the front of the house?”

“A couple times,” she replies, finishing her tea, “He’s not exactly the most graceful person. It’s easy to hear him struggle up the vines and fall through your window.”

You laugh, “And you never thought to stop it?”

“Your dad considered it,” she says, pausing to hear the rain fall heavier on the roof. “But we knew you kids were fine. He might be a bit of a troublemaker, but I know he wouldn’t do anything to put you intentionally in harm’s way.”

Squinting your eyes, you suddenly gasp, “Oh my god, you approve of him, don’t you?”

Angela shrugs again, “Maybe.”

“You’ve never liked any boys I’ve brought over.”

“I think your dad still needs a little convincing,” she says, “But Stiles will win him over eventually.”

“I didn’t realize…” you say, flinching as thunder crashes overhead.

Angela shivers, “Well, that’s my cue for a nap.” She stands and stretches, “Warm tea, cozy bed, and rain in the background? Don’t expect me to wake up anytime soon.”

You laugh, “I’ll be here reading. Thank you for the tea, mom.”

“No problem, sweetie. I wish I could start on that garden, but the recommended time frame is the end of April,” she rolls her eyes, “My herbs are suffering in their little pots!”

You smile as she retreats up the stairs. The rain was really coming down now, pelting the roof like a hail of bullets. You always loved the sound of rain. Maybe it was the cliché book reader in you, but the weather gave the perfect conditions for a reading session.

Ollie sleeps soundly on your lap as you pick up your latest read. It was strange coming home to see a bookmark in a book you didn’t remember. It still sits on your nightstand, hopefully to be picked up again should your memories return.

In the meantime, you begin to read a new fantasy trilogy.

The rain and thunder continue for another half hour, Oliver choosing to sleep on an overturned pillow beside you. He snuggles his face into his fluffy tail as you read. You were just starting to feel sleep tugging at your eyelids when a firm knock came on the front door.

You close your book, apprehensive as the last time someone knocked on the door, the new principal sat you down to question your current whereabouts.

But you find that it was someone new. A tall handsome man with light eyes stands on the porch, sprinkled with rain.

He wipes the water dripping into his eyes, “Hey, (Y/N).” He looks up at the ceiling as if listening for something, “Can I come in?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” you ask, shocked that this handsome man knew you by name.

“I’m Derek,” he says, pushing his way in and standing beside the piano.

You follow by quietly closing the door, afraid to wake your mom. One of the men involved in the strange chaos that happened at the police station was currently in the sitting room.

“Like Derek Hale, Derek?”

“You remember me?” he asks with confusion in his brow.

You fold your arms, “I remember your name on one of my mom’s police reports years ago. About a house fire.”

He clamps his mouth shut and nods. “Listen, Stiles and Isaac have been talking about you – asking me for favors.”

You remember your friends talking about an Isaac. “Okay?”

“I told them it might not even work, but alphas are usually the ones best apt to do it.”

“Do what?” you ask, arms tightly wound and your feet rooted to the spot. You are starting to get a pit in your stomach. Thunder is roiling outside.

“Just… jog your memory a little bit.” He takes a step forward and you suddenly find the ability to move backward as far as the room would let you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say quickly, “I don’t even know you!”

Derek holds up his hands, “You need to calm down. Your heart is stuttering all over the place.”

“Yeah, it does that,” you say angrily, fear overtaking you, “Especially when strangers threaten to do something to jog my memory.”

“It’s just some minor memory manipulation,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, “I haven’t really done it to extract memories out of someone else before, but it can be done.” He approaches your body pressed against the wall, “You need to hold still though – I don’t want to damage your spinal cord.”

You gape your mouth, “What the hell do you mean!?”

He takes ahold of your neck and you’re on the brink of a scream when he covers your mouth with his other hand. “I need you to stand still.” And he sinks his claws into the back of your neck.

You flinch and gasp behind his hand. Something sharp punctures the nape of your neck, heat trickling down from the top of your head to your spine. You feel a strange twinge of electricity and it makes you shiver.

A picture was filling your mind, crisp and warm as you close your eyes to see it better.

It was you in a pale yellow dress, bows in your hair, and your hand held tightly in Tom’s fingers. Judging by how you had to crane your neck to see his tall figure, you had to be about four years old.

Another warm image appears: dirty carrots being pulled from smelly earth. Your mom claps her soil stained gloves, proud of the garden you planted together. Little you was just as excited, taking a bite out of the carrot and grimacing at the gritty taste of dirt.

One memory flows in, a tinge of cold on the edge of this one. Like you found a cold spot in a pool of water. You were finishing a homework page your mom made on algebraic equations. A bitterness was in your chest at not being able to do it in an actual school.

Your mom appears to place a stapled packet of papers in front of you. You curiously pull the first page towards you and the top reads: ‘Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital – Job Application.’ You squeal and launch yourself into a hug with your mom.

The next memory that tries to surface isn’t as warm as the others. And it doesn’t flow in as easily. You start to get a headache as a cold image swims into view. A jeep driving through the woods.

“I don’t get out much.”

He laughs, “Then why the sudden change?”

“I felt like it.”

“Woman of many words,” he smirks.

You flinch, the memory crumbling into something new – just as cold and difficult to resurface as the other one. A movie was playing in the background and a steaming meal was on plates in front of you.

He was describing a different meal to you, “It was a masterpiece.”

“Sounds amazing,” you say, moving your plate, “Like a fancy kid’s meal.”

He laughs, “That’s what it was! When I was little the only thing I would eat was kraft mac and cheese with chicken nuggets. She was determined to make me a better version.”

“I would’ve liked to have met her,” you say softly, “She sounds like an amazing person.”

“She was,” he says quietly, “She would’ve thought you were sweet.”

Pain pulses in your temples as floods of memories try to pry through your vision. It was like trying to yank sharp rocks through a rubber hose. But the next memory appears with a slight warmth.

Your chest was fluttering with desperate breaths.

“And what do you feel?” he asks.

“My heartbeat,” you say, tightening your fingers around his, “Your hand. And the cracking spray paint.” It was getting easier to breathe as you open your eyes to look at him.

You can see your initials drawn on his cheek with blue paint. He looks concerned as his thumb starts to rub along the inside of your knee.

Stiles, you think. That’s Stiles!

A burst of freedom surges through your head – like a lock being broken. You start to remember everything in between these colder memories. They start to warm with recognition.

Stiles is rambling, “… and I wasn’t sure how you felt about me being close when you weren’t in some kind of distress from your heart because so far the only times I’ve touched you has been when you were about to faint or your heart is racing or you just went through a traumatic ordeal, and seeing as being drunk and having a breakup bonfire with your friends is none of those things… I thought maybe you’d be mad at me for, you know… touching you.”

You smile as he gets even more adorably endearing, “I’m not mad, Stiles.”

He still looks ashamed, whispering, “Okay.”

“I would tell you if I didn’t like how you were touching me.”

He whips his head to you, his throat bobbing.

Your eyes start to prickle with tears. How did you not realize how much this boy was into you? The signs were all there.

“Get in the bed, Stilinski,” you mumble, already soothed by his woodsy honey scent. You breathe it in deeply, loving how he apologizes as he gets under the sheets. You relish in his awkward avoidance of your limbs, “It’s fine, Stiles,” you laugh, “We’re bound to touch being this close.”

He swallows hard, staring at the ceiling like avoiding your gaze would save him from the heat encompassing his heart. It was making his cheeks burn.

“Goodnight,” you mumble.

He bites the inside of his cheek, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Tears are filling your eyeline, a drop racing down your cheek as the distant, cold memories are fully back in focus. The pain in your head was growing, but it was worth it to remember all this. The fact you didn’t notice Stiles’ feelings sooner was putting a pool of guilt in your stomach. The poor boy was being so terribly obvious now that you saw the scenes again in your mind’s eye.

He smells like candy, you think.

Your lips fall into an easy pattern. He moves his hands to the small of your back to remove any more space between you. Your noses brush and press into cheeks as you kiss.

He hums deep in his throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He places two quick kisses along your jaw and lands on your neck, right beneath the bend in your jaw. Your head falls back as he leaves chaste kisses there too.

“Is this good?”

You laugh with your eyes still closed, tears actively falling down your face. It was good, you remember. So good you actually have a crisis in thinking you might’ve made a mistake. You were in denial of any feelings you had for him.

Even when Allison and Lydia questioned you before the dance.

Your mind swims to the desired memory that you had forgotten. Projected stars fill the space as the band plays a soft song. You hold onto Stiles in a beautiful starry dress. You’re hidden from him as you’re pressed together, swaying to the music.

You wonder if that’s part of the reason you two have courage to talk. Neither of you were looking.

“What else?” you ask with a puckered brow. A warmth you now know to be likeness enters your chest.

He grips your sides, “I like… being this close to you. And smelling that wonderful fruity stuff on you.”

You laugh, “You’ve said that before.”

He smiles, “I like you in this dress. I like that your scars are out. I like the fact you came without a date because I get to dance with you like this. And I like knowing you’re smiling right now without me needing to look because I can feel it against my cheek.” He pulls away to see proof of that smile. “I like you, (Y/N). Like a lot.”

Your cheeks start to feel itchy with salty tears, a quiet sob making your breath stutter.

“Like a lot a lot.”

Before watching the aftermath of that dance play out in your mind, you force yourself to the present. Claws rip out of your neck, and you wince, wiping at the tears that had dripped down your chin.

“How…” you sniffle, “How did you do that?”

Derek looks serious, searching for side effects in your crying, “It’s just something werewolves can do.”

“Never heard of that one before.” You cover another sniffle with a laugh, “Thank you,” you say, “Thank you.” You jump on him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He’s frozen for about three seconds before placing his hands gingerly on your back, “You’re welcome.”

You’re on your tiptoes to reach him, but it’s the perfect height to hide your face in his chest, “He was so devastated when I didn’t remember.” You recall Stiles when he first saw you in the hospital, “He has to be so upset.”

“He’s miserable,” Derek says gruffly, pulling you away. “I need you to fix him. I didn’t think he was capable of being any more annoying.”

Your smile suddenly drops, “I never got the chance to tell him.” Your hands fly to your hair, completely ignoring the pain still pulsating in your temples. “I went to find Lydia before I…”

Derek raises his eyebrows, “Before you…”

You look at him with red eyes, “Derek this is so important. I need a ride. Please!”

~~~

The rain is in full force behind you, providing a backdrop to your panting silhouette. Just traveling from Derek’s car has you soaked in rainwater. The sleek black car drifts away under the cover of thunder.

You’re shaking terribly, water dripping from your hairline and down your face. The porch at least gives you some cover while you wait. It was ridiculous. You left the house in such a hurry, you hadn’t thought to change.

You wear comfy sage green pajamas, matching with little white daisies on them. A sunflower yellow knitted cardigan lays wet and heavy over your shoulders. One sleeve is dangling further down your arm than the other.

Anxiously you check that the police cruiser is absent from the driveway. Then you hear the door creak open.

Stiles is there in dark blue loungewear himself. It brings out the purple circles under his eyes.

“(Y/N)?” the dull expression in his face suddenly changes to one of deep concern, “What are you doing here? Did you walk in the rain?” He’s reaching for your cardigan, wishing to pull you into the shelter.

But he hesitates – not knowing if it was okay to touch you so forwardly. Not knowing if you’d find it a violation that a near stranger lays his hands on you.

It breaks your heart.

“I need to talk to you.”

He blinks, hand falling to his side, “Yeah, of course.” He opens the door further and ushers you in. “You must be freezing.” He jumps to find a towel to cover your shivering figure.

You’re pulling the wet cardigan off when he returns with a giant fluffy towel. He sees the straps of your pajama top and immediately averts his eyes, wrapping the towel around your shoulders. He rubs up and down your arms for about two seconds before catching himself again.

He takes three steps back, rubbing at his face harshly. “What do you want to talk about?”

You aren’t sure if the tears ever stopped since regaining your memories; it was too hard to discern what was from the rain and what was from you. But you look at Stiles now with a deep warmth in your chest.

It was so large and so warm it was constricting your lungs. Looking at him was making it hard to breathe. “Are you not sleeping?”

He clenches his jaw, “I try to sleep as much as possible. It’s probably not very restful sleep,” he runs a hand over his shaved head, “But… it’s nice to dream.”

You want to touch his face, touch the circles beneath his eyes. “There’s something I forgot to tell you. I completely forgot and then there just wasn’t any time to.” You hold the towel around your shoulders, taking a few steps toward him.

He looks scared, his throat bobbing as you approach.

“That night at the dance,” you start, “We were on the dance floor, and you were saying such wonderful things.” You shiver, “And I was afraid to admit the things I was feeling.”

Stiles’ eyes were growing wide. Wide and desperate. They were silently pleading with you. The very air surrounding you two seemed to be sucked out. A hitch is in your chest as you continue:

“I never got the chance to tell you… how I feel.”

His eyes were growing warm, tears lining his bottom lashes, “(Y/N)…”

“I like you too, Stiles,” you say with a proud smile. “I like you a lot.”

You watch the breath leave his lungs – like his chest had collapsed. He’s screwing up his face like he’s trying not to cry, but a tear falls anyway. “Really?”

You give a breathy laugh, voice choking on the emotion in your throat. “Really.” And you let the towel drop from your shoulders, launching yourself forward to crash your lips against his.

He stumbles back and grips your waist for support.

You stand in the entryway, holding his face and kissing him deeply. You tilt your head and make the kiss deeper; he follows a second behind you, still recovering. He’s shaking just as much as you are now.

Goosebumps erupt on your bare arms, and you pull away to look at him. Tears are smeared on both your cheeks.

“You remember?” he whispers softly, moving his hands to hold your face.

You run your hands down to his chest, “There’s this little trick with a werewolf and my spinal cord,” you shrug, unable to stop smiling. “It pulled everything back for me.”

He’s still trying not to cry, twisting his lips, “Thank god,” he gasps a sob. “Thank you god.” He pulls you in for another kiss, soft and tender this time. He wipes away the wet strands of hair framing your face.

You take a deep breath, tracing a finger up his chin to the soft skin beneath his eyes, “You really need to sleep.”

“I do,” he licks his lips, eyelashes sticking together with tears, “Just to see you.”

You take ahold of his wrists near your face, “You need real sleep.” You tug on his hands and lead the way upstairs. The rain continues to fall, accompanied by rumbling thunder. It gives you something to listen to as you enter Stiles’ bedroom.

You take a quick peek at the disarray: clothes strewn about the floor, old books open and stacked precariously on scrap paper, lacrosse equipment dirty with soil and grass piled in the hallway. The bed is scrambled like he was kicking in his sleep.

Pushing him to sit down on the mattress, you turn to move toward the dresser, but his hand clamps down on yours.

“Where are you going?”

You look back at the instant terror that envelops his face. “I’m just going to change out of my wet clothes.” You lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’ll be right back.”

At the dresser, you find a pair of plaid pajama pants and a shirt with a Doctor Who logo. In the hallway bathroom you change and comb through your hair. You’re hanging your wet clothes on the shower rod when you hear stuttered breaths coming from Stiles’ bedroom.

In a few quick steps you’re back in the room and see Stiles struggling to maintain his breathing. His eyes are still wet with tears and he’s holding his chest like it hurt. His head snaps to you when you enter, and a micro change happens in his expression – the smallest amount of relief.

You’re at his side in an instant, running your hands over his chest and to his face, “Stiles, it’s okay. I’m here and I remember. This isn’t a dream. We’re okay – I’m here.”

He nods his head, but still struggles to draw breath. He is fully panicking.

You grab the covers and pull them over you, crawling onto the bed and laying yourself over his body. Like a weighted blanket. You take deep breaths and hope he can mimic the feeling as he feels it against his torso.

One of his hands goes to your back, holding you to him. With his other, you intertwine your fingers. You pull your hands under your chin, giving them a kiss. With your head nestled into his chest, your free hand raises to be up by his pillow. You’re able to reach his short hair, running your fingers over his head in a soothing motion.

A tangle of limbs, your body holding his down, he starts to calm. He holds onto you like his life depends on it. Like if he lets go you’ll float back into his restless dreams.

It feels like hours later you both fall asleep, holding each other.

And it was the best sleep either of you have had in weeks.

~~~

Research Websites

Atrioventricular Canal Defect

Ventricular Tachycardia

Implantable Cardioverter-defibrillators (ICDs)

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912 @iloveyou2mia @everrrsincenewyork @gisellesprettylies @dullypully @taylordaughter @greenoliveslover @nataliambc @anehkael

#okayjhannah #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf stiles #fandomfantasia

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prodshima · 1 year

Text

love language scenarios 𖤐

warnings: i wrote this a couple months ago and i just realized that it doesn’t really fit their languages but i’m too caught up to rewrite the whole thing :(

pinned: just cute scenarios of 2 of my baby boys that’ll hopefully get me out of writer’s block :) also, is haikyuu tumblr still alive? lol :p

click here for: part two

ATSUMU MIYA - physical touch.

“baby, where are you? i’m home” atsumu drowsily calls out from the front door, kicking his feet out of his shoes before hastily hanging his coat on the rack when he hears you call out his name

with fast strides, atsumu rushes to the bedroom and shoves the door open, his heart immediately melting at the sight of you all cozy in his shirt. you look so cute and he just can’t help but jump on you to bury himself in your warmth (which he’d been looking forward to since he left for work at 7 in the morning) —oh how he missed you so so much.

“hi there my baby, how was work?” you ask him as you run your fingers through his hair gently, untying the knots in the process before bursting into muffled giggles when he lets out a groan

“ ‘s okay but i missed ya” atsumu whispers and glares at you teasingly when you tell him that the both of you just spent the whole weekend together, he knows it’s true but he doesn’t care.

as a comfortable silence envelopes the bedroom, atsumu peppers feathery kisses on your jaw, soft sighs leaving his lips when your gentle hands stroke his cheek in circles, suddenly feeling overwhelmed after facing a lifeless computer for almost 16 hours

“wanna have dinner, tsum?” you ask him after a few minutes of silence, suddenly remembering that you prepared a small meal for him to eat because you figured he hasn’t eaten yet

but you’re weirded out when silence envelops the room so you look down and there welcomes you your boyfriend lying on your chest who’ve never looked so fragile with his head resting on your chest, his legs tangled with yours, and his arms wrapped around your waist

“i love you so much, tsum” you whisper as you feel your own eyes closing as well, the both of you left to enjoy each other’s warmth, finally letting the night past.

TSUKISHIMA KEI - quality time.

for someone like tsukishima kei who’s used to always spending his free time studying before he came across you, he cherishes every moment the both of you spend together because he knows he’s not good with his words— whether it’s spent on little dates, staying at his dorm and snuggling while watching cliché movies, or even just listening to music together, it’s a thing he’ll never admit it though.

“tsukki, wanna walk me home?“

tsukishima turns around to you batting your eyelashes in attempt to “lure” him to walk home with you— he thinks it’s kind of stupid though because you know he’ll do even if you don’t ask him to, he’d never make you walk home alone this late in the afternoon especially knowing that you’re tired from all the lessons you had to take in

and of course also due to your hectic schedules kicking your asses these past few weeks as finals come to a close, the both of you don’t see each other much in campus except during lunch breaks

“of course i have to, i don’t trust you enough to walk alone” tsukishima says with a fake sigh as he looks forwards, avoiding your eyes, but you decide not to tease him any further about how he just won’t admit that he wants to be with you just a little longer but instead, enjoying this side of him

as the both of you walk together silently with his earphones shared, listening to the playlist he made for you, well that he denied making, his hand suddenly grabs yours hastily, but still somewhat gentle and buries it in the pocket of his hoodie, catching you by surprise and pulling you closer to his side

you can’t help but smile at him sheepishly, that of course goes unnoticed by the tall man, judging, he looks at you with an eyebrow raised all while trying to keep his own unfazed aura because he knows exactly what’s running on your mind

“what are you looking at? hurry up, we still need to study when we get home” he scoffs softly, attempting to remove your hand from his but you don’t budge, gripping his hand tightly as you gaze at him in surprise

“huh?! are you staying with me today? you’re not going back to your dorm, tsukki? tsukki? tsukki !” you whine, swaying your hands together as he grins widely, turning around to leave a quick peck on your lips and pinching your cheeks together

“yeah, i am so get used to it because i’ll be doing it a lot more”, he admits and you tug his arm lightly, smacking him as you repeatedly ask what he meant by that

this is perfect, he thinks.

yeah it is.

803 notes · View notes

futurewriter2000 · 8 months

Text

Needing You

A/N: I'm going to pull so much of personal experience from this that even I might cry at the end but I don't cry so I let's see how far I have healed. Not even gonna lie, this was harder to write than I thought. - It deleted itself in the middle of it so I had to REWRITE IT- but it turned out better than the first time.

REQUEST 15: "Optional("hey! I love your writing, so here's a request: could you do a shot about Remus X fem Slytherin who's James sister and they both have a secret relationship, and when he (James) finds out, Remus and the reader have a really strong fight when he says something like "he's my best friend, you're only an experience" (be free to change this) and they both broke up, and the reader doesn't even talk to james but rather just... isolates herself. nended however you like but IM BEGGING make it like really sad =)nHave a fantastic day! <;3.")" #wattpad

The sky was clear as day. It was the night and you had decided to finally swallow your anxiety and go out with your brother's friend. Your brother didn't mind. He just expected it to be a herbal gathering mission with his sister, when Remus told him about it. He didn't know the two of you were walking around the lake for three hours, holding hands because you almost slipped. Wishing you had planned that slip but you haven't. You put sneakers on in the winter- you haven't thought much with your head when it came to Remus. You just wanted to be next to him... and you were.

Your anxiety was piling up but you couldn't stop smiling. He was shaking, since he was only in a thin black T-shirt and a fancy coat that did not provide much warmth. You marveled at the stars and he pulled you close, showing you all the constallation you knew. You haven't been watching the stars. All the time, you kept thinking about kissing him- having your first kiss with your brother's friend, on whom you had a small crush when your brother was small. You completely forgot about Remus until a few weeks ago when you started to spend more time with your brother, as well as his friends.

The kiss happened on the bench. The lake was in front of you, the stars above and he simply leaned in, finally providing some warmth on his body.

This film has been replaying in your head for the past seven months. Every day, you rewatched it in your head, it seemed to be more magical. Every day when you saw him, touched him, kissing him- you fell in love deeper.

It was as if you were going insane just by loving him. You wanted him by your side all the time. It wasn't as if it wasn't difficult, seeing his friends forcing other girls on him when the two of you were sneaking around, knowing each other's bodies pretty well. You knew every scar, every mole, every inch of his body. You believed he knew yours as well.

Remus was a nerd. He pretended to be cool and collected but he just spent 20 minutes explaining medical propreties of three kind of herbs and how other wizards- Healers even can mix them up.

"What?" he said, quirking an eyebrow as you stayed quiet, smiling at him.

"What what?" you smiled brightly, your eyes glimmering with pure joy.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Like what?" you fixed your facial expression, hiding away the emotional depth you felt for this boy.

He stared at you for a moment and moved away from you. "Nothing." he said, starting to get dressed.

There it was. That awful feeling. That feeling of not knowing what he feels.

It always came to this. The two of you could talk forever into the night or into sex but never could the two of you talk about your feelings. You wanted to tell him. You did. You wanted to tell him that you were deeply obsessed with him. That you adored every single thing about his character and body- but there was a restrain. There was the familiar lump in your throat that blocked you from speaking any further.

He always had excuses. He was not good enough for you. He can't ruin his friendship with James... he's not looking for anything exclusive at the moment.

You moved to your pile of clothes and started to put on your underwear. I swear, your razor has never been so used in your entire life than in the past few months. You smiled at that and clicked your bra on.

He didn't even notice that your undergarments were matching. Something you felt as if your effort was for nothing, but you felt good when you did things like that. For him. To please him- do it for him... because you loved him.

"Hey..." he was by your side and you got startled a bit from your train of thoughts.

His eyes were lustful and his hands were possessive of your body. You smiled and wrapped your hands around his neck. "Hi." you said as his hand grabbed the hem of your underwear and let it go into a snap on your hip.

"This is really nice." he smiled, watching your breasts in your perky red bra.

"You like?"

"Haven't got a clear view before... but now that I do..." he said and tightened his grip around your waist. "You smell so good..." he continued, but this time it felt more as a growl than a whisper and he purged your lips with his.

It felt as if two universes were collapsing. That's how it felt, kissing the forbidden fruit for him and for you. Even though James presented a small obstacle in the way of your relationship, the whole secrecy seemed to be more exciting, causing more passionate interactions between the two of you the more you two continued this.

He backed you agains the bed... again but you laughed, pushing him away but holding onto his shirt collar. "We have to go, you know that."

He wailed like a small puppy. "I don't want to."

You pulled him into a kiss, just as passionate, just as strong and so hard to let go of it. "I-" you tried but he deepened it in that moment, causing you to heat up and back up on the bed as he crawled over you.

He raised himself up and tool a long look at you, just laying there as your foot found its way to his chest. He took a gentle hold of it and moved it onto his shoulder. "You're so beautiful."

And that was it. Small words, small gestures- you went for it all. Your love couldn't consume him all. It always wanted more.

These moments, your soul didn't care. It was happy, you were happy and you were glowing. Only your roommate was the one who knew about your secret and she didn't agree much with it. She said he didn't treat you as he should.

But you were happy and that was all that mattered.

"I love seeing you this happy but I'm so afraid that you'll get hurt." your roommate said as she made her way to your bed.

"He wouldn't hurt me. He said he would never hurt me."

"I don't know, (y/n)..." she continued but you only laughed and smiled. Something in your heart was so full of love that you couldn't keep it in. Even James thought there was something wrong when you hugged him more than you usually did.

He suspected something was going on with you but he had no clue what.

Or that's how you thought.

Remus came into the room and just as he closed the door, somebody pushed him against it. Defensively, he pushed the person away from him. "What the hell?!" he shouted and saw a pair of furius brown eyes staring at him. "James?!"

"Were you with my sister!?" he shouted, not as if he was asking, simply waiting for Remus to tell the truth he already knew. But how could he had found out. "Tell me!" he snapped, pushing Remus' shoulder. "Tell me that Peter didn't see you leaving Room of Requirements with my baby sister!"

Oh, that's how.

Remus shot his eyes at Peter, than back at James. His eyes let loose. He was tired... and ashamed. You and him talked many times about getting caught but he thought the two of you would end by now... but you didn't.

"It just happened mate."

"Fuck you, Moony!" he pushed him again. "Did the two of you kiss?!" he asked. "Were you her first kiss?!"

"Yeah, okay!" Remus lifted his hands in defense. He felt as if he was being interrogated by the Ministry at this poing.

James only stared at him for a minute, than turned around and ran his hands down his face. He mumbled something under his breath- something Remus couldn't hear.

He then turned around really carefully, trying to control the boiling blood that kept flooding into his brain. "I'm not even going to ask if the two of you shagged- I'm just going to tell you this." he said calmly, however, you could still hear the fury in his voice- the one he never used before, not once in all years of friendship. "You are going to my sister and you will tell her that it's over." he warned. "She doesn't need this Remus. What you have- she doesn't need this." he threw knives with his poisinous glare.

Remus couldn't even argue with him. He knew that this was the reason why James would never let the two of you be together. You didn't know... you didn't and it wasn't your fault but he started this mess, and he felt as if he owed it to James to finish it.

---

By now, you knew something was off. Whenever Remus seemed to stay away from you, you got a strong feeling in your stomach. The two of you could talk it out, always but this time, the feeling was extremely powerful and deep inside, you knew that it wasn't good.

So you avoided him too. You simply felt... afraid...

And James knew. He knew Remus hasn't spoken a word to you yet because you seemed to be cheery and all over the place. Jumping from one friend to the other.

'She seems so happy.' - he thought at first, seeing you talk to one of your friends from class. 'I'm glad he was her first everything... but she can't go through with this. She'd break.' He looked at Remus, who stared into the book, ignoring you completely.

James stood up and walked to him. "Go talk to her." he said, more of a warning than a suggestion. Remus looked up at his friend's eyes and saw the demand in his darkened look. "Now." he finished and walked away.

Remus watched his best friend walk away, Sirius hiding away in discomfort, meanwhile Peter was lost in his own world. He looked at you on the other side of the room and just as he did, your eyes met. His heart stepped a beat, not knowing that it matched yours on the other side.

He shuffled in his seat for a second or two but cleared his throat and walked up.

It didn't take a lot of convincing to let you come with him. You loved him. You would be by his side every second that counted, if it wasn't for the circumstances the two of you were in.

The sky wasn't like before. It wasn't clear as day but it was still just enough chilly. He was about to graduate soon and you will go into your last year. You haven't talked about it yet but maybe this will finally be the conversation that clears all that mess up

You thought.

He couldn't get himself to say it. Your eyes shimmered so brightly- even on a day like this. How could he do this?

"Umm..."

You smiled and took a hold of his hand. "It's me Remus. You can always talk to me."

He swallowed hard and flickered his eyes from your hands to your eyes.

And then it was cold.

"James found out about us... and for me, I think, it's best for us to end this now. " he said, not letting you interrupt him when you started to process information. "I think it's best that we end this." he continued quietly, removing his hand from yours and avoiding your eyes... but you only stared, not blinking once... only stared.

He tried to smile but it wasn't sincere. At least not in your eyes. "We had so much fun- (y/n) but-"

"No..." you spoke weakly, clearing your voice and not letting a single tear fall from your eyes. "You can't just break up over this. James can understand- so he knows."

"No, (y/n)... listen..." he started but you interrupted him before he could continue.

"Why do you want to end it? Finally, James knows-"

"James doesn't want us to be together." he started to get more harsh with you.

"Well, that's his problem, not ours." you snapped back.

"What do you mean it's not our problem?! He's my best friend!"

"And he's my brother- if he was a real friend, he'd be happy for you."

"If he's a real brother, he'd make us break up!"

"What does that even mean?!"

Remus threw his head back. He cannot tell you. Not this. He could tell you a lot of things but the why... that he couldn't tell you. "It means it's over." he stood up.

"Don't you walk away from me!" you shouted behind him and grabbed his arm, turning him away.

"What don't you understand!?" he shouted back, pointing at his head with his fingers. "We were never meant to be, (y/n). It was a ride but we get off now!" he pointed at the floor, steaming from all the fury.

'Why couldn't you just let him go?'

"Oh, it definitely was a ride!" you scoffed, crossing your arms as he narrowed his eyes at your sarcasm. "But you're going to let one James get in the way between this?!"

"Yes!"

"Is HE THAT IMPORTANT, HUH?! WHY DID YOU EVEN CHOOSE ME THEN?!"

"YES!" he screamed at this point. "He is MORE important than you. He is MORE than you will ever be to me!" He lost his temper, blubbering out everything he thought. "I didn't choose you! You were just there- JUST FUCKING THERE- at the right place at the right time- THAT'S WHY YOU AND ME WOULD NEVER WORK OUT. You were an OPPORTUNITY!" he shouted, letting his eyes darken and glare at you maliciously. "And I took it gracefully." he finished in a low growl, his eyes shimmering when all of a sudden you took a step back.

...

...it's that how it felt?

It was like a click in his brain. He was too harsh. He was- you're still James' little sister- he still... "Shit, (y/n)..."

You pulled your hand away from his touch as he tried to take a hold of it. Physically, it wasn't possible for your world to be shaking at the moment... but somehow it has and you couldn't see.

"It came out really wrong-"

And your heart could, in logic, not hurt phisically. Hertbreak is psychollogical but then why did suddently feel as if it had been ripped out of your chest. A hole... a deep dark hole in your chest, sucking every last bit of your soul into it.

"(y/n), please say something. You just stepped on a nerve and I got angry-"

Was the world always this silent? Were the voices around you always this muffled. You couldn't hear, you couldn't feel.

You took a hold of your cold arms and the cold didn't hurt. Your fingertips... as blue and swollen as they were, they didn't pain.

"Come on, let's get inside."

You wish, you could have ran away but your legs felt numb, so you wobbled as far away from him as you could. The first corner you turned to, the moment your legs collapsed and you slid into the floor.

'Was I really this stupid?'

'What just happened?"

'What will my roommate say- she'll mock me-'

'He probably feels so great now that he knows I was in love with him.'

'Why does it hurt so much?'

Random thoughts came through your head. One running over the other- one as random as what to wear tomorrow. But the air was cold and you felt as if you deserved to freeze in it.

The stupidity, naivety and the immense ego death- everything has destroyed you. They say words cannot hurt you but they can. If they say it right, if they say it in the truthful manner- in a manner intended to hurt you... you?

So you thought back to the night the two of you first kissed. He said, the right place at the right time... that's all you were to him. A girl, who was there for him to use. A girl, he had no feelings for, not close to what you felt for the past few months. He kissed you and touched you, he had seen you naked and it didn't mean anything to him. He meant everything to you.

You were stupid. You thought he loves you. You thought you were special when he kissed you. That he found you attractive, beatiful- as he had said but you were just a day given opportunity.

If there was a monster that day, there, he would have kissed it. Because it was just there. Not because it cared for him, because it was his brother's best friend and it had trusted him with itself- no because the monster was just there, by the lake, at the same time like him.

Nothing. You meant... nothing.

---

Grey... the colours were grey. Every single one of them was gray, different shades of it. You promised yourself, you wouldn't let anybody affect you but you couldn't help the feeling in your chest, this soul sucking hole causing your whole body to ache. It felt as if your heart wasn't even there. He ripped it out and destroyed it.

You barely woke up, but you had to... for school. You had to go to school. Not that you cared anymore. You simply just existed. It was as if you couldn't remember when you got out of bed and when you got back into it. Time flew by like it didn't exist at all.

You didn't even know when one week passed by. It just did and nothing much mattered. You sat behind your desk and wrote your Transfiguration paper. It was when you were almost done when he altered your brain and there was the big pain in your throat. You swallowed it, closed your eyes and felt them burn.

You have to finish this. - you thought.

So you did and you forced him away. As soon as you did, you went to the bathroom and washed yourself. Then simply crawled to bed at six pm. It was your ruitine since then. You took a journal, you wrote it down, realising you cannot write things down without crying, so you grabbed the pillow and pushed it to your chest. You squeezed it so tightly in the meaning to place it into the empty hole in your chest.

It didn't cover, so you cried anyway. You did. No matter how hard you tried, you cried.

You don't remember what you talked with your roommates. You plastered a smile and nodded but avoided pretty much everybody.

Everything was a no for you.

A walk? - No.

Hogsmeade? - No.

Dinner? - No.

Study group? - No.

Roommates were a nice distraction but it wasn't enough for the pain. Even when James sent you a note, you always replied with a no. It was automatic by now. You said you had to study or that you were tired. You needed time for yourself. You needed to find your self-worth again because for the past months, you let your happiness depend on one person and that person just took all that happiness away from you.

So what you needed? It was work and sleep.

---

James knew you were heartbroken. He knew he was the annoying sibling but he wasn't used to being annoyed by you. You had always kept your emotions to yourself. The two of you weren't close emotionally but you had your own share of fun together. When he asked Remus when everything started, it was just around the time your bond started to get better. The two of you would spend much time together and you weren't so stuck up or annoyed at any slight inconvinience.

He never saw that side of you. The one that was emotionally opened to him. He didn't know it was Remus the sole reason for that. You were happy, excited and... well, in love. But it was the wrong person. Remus has something that he didn't wish for you to deal with. You were always the rebel of the family. He was the golden child but you were your own person. You didn't talk back t your parents as he did but you did all the things that you wanted. You did everything you wanted. That was your own magic. You were a rebel but you were a kind and understanding person.

James is the tough one in the group. He is the leader, the great one... even in your own family, he is the golden one, the perfect one but you always understood him the way nobody else did. You saw him, behind all of that facade. He loved being around you. You were his safe place. You were... his sister. The sister who gave him all the unsolicited advice and was there for him when nobody else was.

He didn't see much of you and most of the time you ignored his letters and messages. The times he did catch up to you, you excused yourself to go study and he knew you were furius at him because at times, you'd snap at him, throwing harsh words at him.

He knew you were sad and heartbroken but he also knew you'd move on sooner rather than later. You were just dramatic. Women always are.

It was to his surprise when he walked into the classroom and saw you sitting at one of the tables, laughing and smiling with a Ravenclaw his age.

It was Newt's and you were one year behind- so there was no reason you should be there.

Remus was more surprised than James. If he was bound to find out, he couldn't do it now. The protocol was to sit down and take the exam. No talking, no turning around but nothing could make him focus without knowing the truth about your attendence at this exam.

He could hear the professor something whisper in your ear but he couldn't understand it. Maybe, the professor realised you weren't supposed to be there either.

But nothing happened. You mumbled back and you stayed.

It was up until the exam was over when he turned around to see your chair empty, your robe disappearing behind the door. He ran after you but James had already caught up.

The two of you were already arguing.

"What do you mean you're graduating early?" James bulged his eyes out.

Graduating early?- Remus thought. You? Why would you ever graduate early, you hated studying.

"Why not? I've already taken most of the exams and I passed. McGonagall said if I roll up my sleeves and grab the whole thing, I can do it but the chance is small. Yet, here I am." you smiled and that twinkle in your eye that was known to more people to be the twinkle of up to no good.

What were you up to?

"You can't. You don't have any recommendations- not- no." James couldn't piece it together.

"Yes. I'm graduating and I am moving to southern Europe and I am never stepping foot in England ever again."

"Southern Europe?!" James shouted in disbelief. "You're shitting me?"

"I'm not. I have a plan to leave. I always had."

"That was your fairy tale. To live in Italy or Greece or some shit." he started to laugh.

"To be away from here." you said angrly. "I hate it here. I always had."

"No." said James.

"Yes..." mumbled Remus but nobody heard him due to the loud arguing between siblings.

You always said about leaving when the two of you were together. The beach, the culture... you said you felt as if nobody supported you here. The rebel of the family. You confided into him about how you felt there was zero effort made to make something out of you. All attention was always on James and that made you rebel in your family. You didn't want to be like James but everybody forced you to be at least somewhat like him. You said, how people take you for granted, underrating your power.

I guess, this was you taking your power into control.

Before he knew it, you were storming one way and James the other but unlike last time. He chose to follow you.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" he shouted behind you.

"Watch me." you turned around to see him then back around to turn a corner.

He caught up and took a hold of your hand but you snapped it away as soon as it touched you.

Of course, you wanted to see him. Of course, you wanted to talk to him, you craved him but you were furius beside all things. God, you could have screamed at him right now and hug him at the same time.

"You can't do this because you're angry at me. Don't take it on James." he started but you laughed.

"You think, I'm doing this for you?" you laughed, poking his chest with your finger. "I just grabbed the opportunity, Remus. I was just there, at the right place at the right time." you lowered your voice, quoting him.

"Come on- you don't know the whole background-"

"No, you know what Remus. I chose you. I fucking chose you to be my first. That means that I decided to trust you with my soul as well as my body and trusting people isn't easy for me." you continued. "I let you in- quite literally- but I thought we were something and you surely played the role to make me feel that way." you smiled forcefully, hiding away the feeling in your chest. You had no idea how a heart that is no longer there can still break.

"I really cared about you. I still do."

"You moved on, two weeks after us." you finally let him show a bit of your emotions. "Two fucking weeks and another girl was under your arm- God fuck, Remus. The hell is wrong with you."

"A lot..."

"Fuck you for playing the victim all the time." you pushed him hard. "Fuck you- fuck you- fuck you!" you continued to shout angrily. "I won't play the victim because I am not one. I'm moving on- away from fuckheads like you." you spat out. "Because you could have had somebody who would have loved you for everything that you are. You won't find anybody who will be prepared to love you as much as I was. Remember that, Remus Lupin. You won." you threw your hands up in defeat and walked away.

And it was one of those things that stick with you. It stuck with Remus because he didn't see you anywhere else anymore. Neither did James. He didn't know whether you were dead or alive. The graduation, they both looked for you but nowhere.

You disappeared from his life and it was until then when his life started to fall apart for him. You told me he could be whatever he wanted to be- even an auror. You supported him the way nobody else could and you accepted every flaw. He knew you would love him even more if he told you his secret but he thought.... he thought the two of you would stay friends. He thought, he had time with you. He thought he would appologise and the two of you would eventually talk.

He needed somebody. He needed somebody to talk to- always. Sirius was in Azkaban and James was dead. And all he could think about was needing you.

#marauders #marauders imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #marauders era #remus lupin x reader #james potter #james potter imagine

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skyfallslayer · 2 months

Text

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Five - Part 1

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: Hopper breaks into Hawkins Lab, while Nancy and Jonathan confront the forces that took Will and Steph. The boys, and even to their surprise, Steve, ask Mr. Clarke how to travel to another dimension; All while Stephanie frantically starts looking for Will after hearing his cries.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 22,544 (In Total)

🎲Date: 7/31/24

🎲Warnings: Heavy Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death"; Funerals; Crying; Talks of Corpses; Being Drugged; Brief Alcohol Consumption; Unwanted Touching; Suggestive Dialogue; Suicidal Thoughts; Minor Blood; A Certain "Curse" Comes Into Play Early; The Byers Family's Mental Strain; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Gangster & A Overprotective Brother; The Harringtons' A+ Parenting; Steve's Emotional Damage & Signing Up To Be A Babysitter; Stephanie & Will Deserved All The Love, man. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Heads up, Readers! This document is split between two parts. For some reason Tumblr said I reach my 1,000 space limit, or something like that and wouldn't let me post it because it's so long. But at the very end of this part will be a spot you can click on for the next. Hopefully where I cut it off makes sense. Hope y'all in for a treat :) - And as you probably will notice when you're reading this, I left out Lonnie, Joyce's ex-husband. I left the scene out of chapter two where Jonathan goes to meet him and inform him that Will is missing. I felt like I really did need to write that, kind of like I don't feel like writing him in this chapter either. He doesn't exactly benefit this story, and this chapter/episode, is the last appearance of the character anyway, so... I just decided to just cut him, and replace his intense "dialogue" with a scene between Joyce and Jonathan. Hope you understand, and enjoy this chapter ❤️

Hopper wasn’t sure what he was even doing or thinking anymore. He got the answers he was looking for, but there were still some follow up questions about those answers that he needed to know. When the horrible, horrible thought crossed his mind about breaking into the morgue and seeing if the poor kids’ bodies were even real, he barely even hesitated. Why he didn’t hesitate kind of scared him. I mean, did deep down he know his doubts might be real?

So he swallowed and drove over to the place, still in his street clothes, hat discarded in his seat, and smelling like cigarettes and three hour old alcohol. He got out of his car, parking illegally, and was surprised to see the receptionist outside the door.

“Hey, Patty. Heading home?” He said, and she perks up upon seeing his face.

“Oh, Chief. Perfect timing. I was just debating if I should call you or not.” She says, confusing him.

“Is there a problem?”

“I…” She sighs. “I-I don’t know. About… ten minutes ago, I would say, a young lad came in and said his brother left something behind and wanted to retrieve it. I let him do it, but I noticed he hasn’t come back. And when I try calling out to the officer in the back I get no response. Frankly, I’m a little freaked out to investigate myself.”

A young lad? An officer? That’s weird. “Did you recognize this man? The one who came in?”

“I don’t recall seeing him this morning. Just Ms. Byers, her son and of course Ms. Henderson. But that’s all I’ve seen all day.” Patty explains before pointing in the distance. “I’m assuming that’s his car.”

Hopper follows her finger, a familiar black BMW was parked a few feet away. If it wasn’t for her pointing it out, he surely would have missed it since the area had poor lighting. It didn’t take him long to realize who’s car that was.

He puts on a front to calm her. “I’ll see what’s going on. Just wait right here. I’ll make it quick. ‘Kay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Chief.”

As soon as he’s inside, his hand is already on his holster. Judging by the car, he knew the Harrington kid was here, which he’s not exactly sure why; But to be honest, him being here was his least concern at the moment. He was more concerned about another officer being here. I mean, this was a morgue, people unfortunately die all the time, whether it was just natural or part of a crime; So it didn’t make any sense why the murders of two local kids would get special treatment.

His mind of course wanders back to the bar earlier where he had to beat the crap out of O’Bannon just to get some answers.

“Okay…” Hopper pins him to the wall. “Let’s try this one more time.” He grabs the man by the chin, squeezing. “Who told you to be out there? What were you doing out there?” He watched for an answer, and when he wasn’t getting any, he dialed back his fist.

“I don’t know!” David shouts. “I don’t know. They… they just told me to call it in and not let anybody get too close.

“Get close to what?!”

“The bodies.”

The bodies. Someone told him not to get close to the bodies. There was something about Will and Stephanie’s bodies that no one was supposed to get close to, and needed a cop to guard the morgue.

And I am a little afraid to find out why though. As Hopper got closer to the back, he immediately saw something that made him draw out his gun. The cop, whom he didn’t recognize at all, was lying unconscious on the floor (At least he hoped he was unconscious). He runs over quietly, and squats down to check for a pulse. Breathing. That’s good.

Now for the real question is… why was he unconscious? Was this the teenager’s doing? He frowns and pushes open the unlock door carefully, and steps inside. The cold temperature hits him hard but he doesn’t shiver; Maybe it was the adrenaline that was pumping in his veins, and pulled his heart to his feet. It was so eerily quiet, it was like straight out of a horror movie. He had half expected someone to come through the shadows with a knife. As he move inland more, he heard some shuffling and someone muttered, ‘What the fuck’, and then decided to push open the door to the fridge.

He must have startled the other party, which so happened to be the Harrington kid, brown eyes blown wide and (Oh, the irony) a knife pointed his way. They both stared at one another in silence, both surprised to find each other here…

Both surprised that they had the same idea/doubts.

Hopper’s eyes trailed past the boy’s shoulder, landing on the table where he could see the top of the dead girl’s head. What is he–

Then he stops himself when he notices something else. In the tips of Steve’s fingers, he sees a small ball of… cotton. Afraid, but he didn’t show it, he starts walking towards the table, lowering his weapon as Steve sidesteps to give him room – Hopper’s heart almost stops. He sees the incision immediately, and the white fluff pooling out of it. The two of their gazes meet, silence was enough to tell the adult everything.

Deciding he needed to know more, he pulls the sheet back over the body and slides her back in before searching for another one. In the drawer below, he pulls out Will’s body and pulls the sheet back. It was still a sickening sight to see, despite knowing damn well it was a fake; But he still needed to know. Still not saying any words, Hopper holds his hand out and Steve gets the message and hands over his blade.

With no hesitation, Hopper digs into the realistic flesh, the flesh that was dry and had no prior incisions like it should have, and pulls out the same fluff like the last one.

Oh, my God. His doubts were real. The bodies were fakes. But if that was the case, where were the children? Closing the blade and handing it back, Hopper grabs the teenager by the bicep and strings him along. “Come on.”

They leave in a hurry, only slowing their pace when they see Patty outside. Hopper puts on a cheeky smile, still holding onto Steve. “Dang, teenagers. Always wanting to do a good prank.” He chuckles. “Everything’s all good. Goodnight, Patty.”

“Uh…” She stares at him, slightly confused but still waves goodbye. “‘Night, Chief.” He drags the boy back to his car, glancing back to make sure she was inside before exploding.

“Hey, listen–” Steve begins, as he tries to wiggle out of his hold.

“What did I say about forgetting our conversation at school?” Hopper snaps, and let’s go.

He scoffs and gives him a look. “How could I forget? Especially the way you reacted? How could I forget all that?”

“Listen, son, whatever this is–” The adult gestures around. “Is dangerous. Something’s going on, and it’s a dangerous slope.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know?” Now it was Hopper’s turn to scoff. “Then why the fuck are you running head first into this?”

“‘Cause I had doubts too. I thought about everything, and nothing’s adding up, Chief.” Steve explains, getting a groan from the man. “Nothing’s making sense. They said the two of them drowned in the Quarry, but I highly doubt that. But, who knows! Maybe they did get pushed towards the Quarry, but they also took a shotgun with them. If someone was chasing them to a cliff, why didn’t they use the gun? Why did they feel like they had to make their bodies fake? Were they actually taken and not lost? Or–”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Hopper says, holding his hand up. “I know you have questions, I get that, but you really need to stop and let me handle it.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not letting this go.”

“You should. Before you get hurt.”

“They stuffed my friend like she was a fucking stuffed animal!”

“I thought she wasn’t your friend anymore?” Hopper asked, and Steve shut his mouth and looked away. His face softens a tad. Just a tad. “Listen, something is definitely going on, that’s as clear as day. But when I poked around today, I noticed someone was following me, which means I’m getting close to something that I’m not supposed to.”

“That means you’re on the right track then.”

“Yes. But that’s a track that I don’t want you on.”

“Chief–”

“Steve.” Hopper steps closer, and grabs him by the shoulder. “I know this is an emotional time, but I need you to trust me, and let me do this. Please.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I can’t see another kid get hurt or die on me. So trust me, and stay away. Okay?”

Steve nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Good. Go home. Be safe. And please, do not do anything stupid.” He warns, because he’s about to do something stupid. But Jim Hopper doesn’t really know Steve Harrington all that well.

Because the teenager was already planning on doing something stupid too.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Besides the migraine, Stephanie wakes up to the sound of screaming. She shoots up from her sleeping form, big blue orbs blown wide and adrenaline starts to spike. Memories came in slowly, remembering the way her body basically gave her the finger and shut off on its own, falling into the deepest, but dreamless sleep. Her body felt colder than usual, and hugs herself for warmth.

What is… She winces at the pain in her temples spike, followed by a small drop of blood coming out of her nose. Slowly, she reaches up to touch, her fingertips stained red. She wonders if she hit her head too hard when she fell over. That could explain the headache, the nosebleed and the feeling of being in a fog. Hopefully she didn’t give herself a concussion. That’s the last thing she needs.

And that’s when she hears the scream again.

She felt a shiver, not from the cold, run down her spine immediately. She knows that scream so familiar now, it’s engraved in the back of her skull.

“Will.” She mutters, and looks around. Sure enough everything was here except for him. “Will?!” And then another scream, and Steph wastes no time to grab her pistol and bolt back towards the house. “WILL!!”

Completely scared – heart beating, head pounding, blood trickled down her chin – and the thought of not losing her footing was keeping her going. She doesn’t know why he was gone. Did he run off on his own? Did the monster get him? She’s not so sure, and she doesn’t care. She just needs to find him and make sure he’s safe.

“Will!” She shouts again, completely obviously how short the run time was, and rammed through the back door and–

Right back outside.

She stumbled to the stop, and her eyes burned in the light, the buttercream sun and the sound of peace, and the feeling of warmth she hasn’t felt for days now. Confusion hits her now, and she suddenly finds herself on her very own lawn that was connected to her very own home. She blinks, and looks around, spinning on her heels like a twirl. Everything looked… normal. No weird snow-like substance falling from the sky, no darkness, no weird plants that pulsate, and drop temperatures close to zero. She was back home, and totally not in a scary place she’s been stuck in.

But how did I– How did I get back here? She touches her head, thinking. None of it made sense. She ran through Will’s back door and now she’s here? Back at her home? The normal version? This doesn’t–

Then, a car pulled into the driveway, making her breath get taken away. It was a 1960s station wagon, her Mom’s car, her Mom’s old car, The one that had gotten totaled in an accident years ago.

She tilts her head, squinting like it would just change at any second. Why is it–

Then the front door opened in a flash with another shocking sight. Her grandmother, the one that passed away when she was just a kid, was standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her non-sickly face.

// Oh, baby, they’re here // She says, and that’s when she’s hit with another strike to the gut.

Stephanie watched as her barely five year old self shifted around her granny, practically bouncing down the steps towards the yellow car. Her mother gets out first, with a small bundle of cloth in her arms, which her younger self was giggling about.

// Stephanie, come meet your brother, Dustin // She said, with a smile that touched her eyes and soul.

Her younger self laughed as she showed her baby sibling. // Hi, Dustin //

Stephanie stared, the confusion intensifying by hundreds, no even sure what else to say except, “What the fuck…?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper manages to sneak through the door just as a scientist left for the night. He was out of his mind, he knows that for sure, especially since he decided to trespass into Hawkins Labs that seemed more guarded the last time he was here. He was also more out of his mind when he decided to head inside the place that was blocked off and had two large hazardous signs on the entrance. Well… what do they say?

You only live once.

The hallway was short lived, leading right up to a door that was of course locked, and unable to access it without a passkey.

“Shit.” He said, unaware of the two security guards rushing up behind him.

“Hands up!” They shouted, guns drawn. “Forgot all the cameras, bub?”

Hopper decided to play it cool, his face calm with a smile as he slowly turned around, hands in the air. “Look, Dr. Brenner asked for me specifically. Okay? How else do you think I got in here?”

One of the guards raised an eyebrow, using a free hand to reach for his walkie. “What’s your name again?”

“It’s Jim Hopper.” A little chuckle. “Chief Jim Hopper.”

He presses the button. “Yeah, I’ve got Jim Hopper–”

And the Chief landed a punch across his jaw, sending him to the floor and grabbing his gun. He immediately points it to the other party, and pins both his arms against the wall. The guy over the radio shouts what’s going on, but Hopper ignores it and takes the guard’s weapon away from him too.

“Hey…” His fingers latched around the badge. “You mind if I borrow this one?”

He plucks it off and swipes the card, never taking his eyes on the conscious guard until the door shuts. As soon as he’s in the dark room, Hopper shoots a bullet through the card reader, trapping himself inside.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the boys were back at the Wheeler house, all lounging around in the basement, trying to process everything they heard on the radio.

“What was Will saying? Like home... but dark?” Mike said, pacing around, occasionally glancing at Eleven who was laying in a daze on his couch. He feels a bit bad that they might have pushed her too far tonight.

“And empty.” Lucas adds, face in his hands.

“Empty and cold.” Dustin says, sitting on the steps, a worried look on his face. “Wait, did he say cold? And who was he talking to?”

“Could have been your sister.” Mike suggested.

“No. He said my sister was passed out. There’s no way that was her.” Dustin groans. “That stupid radio kept going in and out.”

“Like home. Like his house?”

Lucas perks up with a snap of his fingers. “Or maybe like Hawkins.”

“Upside down.” El mutters from her spot on the couch.

“What’d she say?”

Mike was suddenly hit with realization and springs over to the table. “Upside down!”

“What?”

“Upside down.” He waves them over, and flips his upside down game board back over. “When El showed us where Will and Steph were, she flipped the board over, remember?” He flips it over again. “Upside down. Dark. Empty.”

“Do you understand what he’s talking about?” Lucas asked, meeting his other friend’s eyes.

“I’ll admit, I’m a little lost.” Dustin said, sheepishly.

“Guys, come on, just think about it.” Mike pressures. “When El took us to find them, she took us to Will’s house, right?”

“Yeah. And they weren’t there.” Lucas points out.

“But what if they were there? What if we just couldn’t see them? What if they were on the other side? What if–” He flips the board back to its normal side. “This is Hawkins and–” And then back to the blank side. “This is where they are? The Upside Down.”

Dustin gasps. “Like the Vale of Shadows.” It took his friends a moment to process the reality of this as he fished out his ‘unofficial’ D&D guidebook. He flips to the page he was talking about. “The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you, and you…” He locks fearful eyes with them. “Don’t even see it.”

“An alternate dimension.” Mike realizes, terrified as well.

“But... how... how do we get there?” Lucas asked, worriedly.

“You cast Shadow Walk.” Dustin answers.

“In real life, dummy.”

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” His blue eyes trail to their sleepy friend. “Maybe she can.”

“Do you know how we get there?” Mike asks, hopefully. “To the Upside Down?”

Unfortunately for them…

She shook her head no.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Will?” Hopper frantically called out into the darkness, frantically scanning the area with his flashlight. “Stephanie?”

From what he can tell, this area mimicked a hospital. The white walls, colorless floors, the cold. I guess he should have suspected the rooms lined in the hallway to be filled with beds, but what he wasn’t expecting was the rooms to be catered with a few stuffed animals and security cameras in them. He also got a sudden wave of sickness when he saw a drawing done by a child on the wall, one that looked pretty recent.

What the hell? And that was his last thought before he could hear alarms blaring in the distance. He was honestly surprised they didn’t sound it sooner. So with a gun back in his hand, Hopper raced frantically down the rest of the halls, checking each room he could find.

“Will? Stephanie? Kids?” He shouts, and picks up speed. Come on. Where are they?

When he reaches the end of the hallway, he finds an elevator. A slight blessing in some way, but he also dreaded what else he might find. Are the kids really here? Or is he really following a thin thread?

“I see him!” Someone shouts just as the door opens. “Hey! Stop!”

Hopper just gives them a sharp glare as the door seals him inside, heading down yet another level. When he did arrive, this floor was a lot creeper than the last. This time it did have lighting, except only every other light fixture ‘worked’ (It was more flickering on and off), and there was something floating in the air – a substance that looked like snow, but wasn’t.

“Will? Stephanie?” He manages to yell before breaking into a coughing fit. “W-Will? St-Stephanie? Kids!” He continued to cough, covering his mouth with his elbow as he continued his trek. “What in the world?”

When he entered the room at the end of the hall, he saw something he cannot explain. Stretching along the back wall was a very disgusting looking plant; Black veins shot out like the spiderwebs that were hanging off of them, and the middle of it, the core, seemed to glow a red hue and it was… pulsating. In a strange case of curiosity, Hopper couldn’t help but reach out to touch the stickiness.

What is this thing? And that’s when he catches something moving in the corner of his eye. He whips around, gun out again and starts looking around worriedly. And just like a fucking horror flick, a man in a hazmat suit came right out of the darkness and straight towards him.

“Hey!” He takes a step back as a warning. “Hey! Hey!”

And then out of the depth again, only this time he did not see, another masked up individuals come from behind–

And plunges a needle into his neck.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan was rushing home rather late. His little… “shopping trip” was cut short by none other than a schoolmate, Nancy Wheeler. Never in his sixteen years on the planet did he think he would get a visit from her – and over something so strange. But now, he was trying to get back home, to tell his mother that she wasn’t insane, that he finally understood what she was saying these past few days.

When he got home the first thing he noticed was there was a big gaping hole on the front of his house. Distressfully, he did his best to rush inside, finding his poor mother shivering with a conveniently placed axe by her feet. It didn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together.

“Mom, what happened?” He asked, and she didn’t even flinch – almost didn’t acknowledge he was even there.

“Oh… hey, Jonathan.” She said, the exhaustion made her look ten times her age. “How was the shopping?”

“Forget shopping. Jesus, you’re freezing.” He replies, slugging his jacket off and placing it over her. “Just wait right here.”

It took a few minutes to retrieve a few things from the shed, but he managed to nail up a tarp to block the chilly November winds. Holding back the urge to shiver himself, he focuses his strength back onto his mother.

“Mom.” He begins, sitting down next to her (He even takes her cold hands into his own). “What happened?”

“Oh…” She shakes her head with a sniffle. “Nothing, sweety.”

“No, not nothing.” Guilt started to eat at him a bit (Why didn’t he believe his own mother in the first place?). “Why did you take the wall down?”

“Jonathan, it’s nothing–”

“Mom… that thing you saw before–” He swallows “Did it come back?”

She shakes her head again. “Who cares. Maybe it was all in my head after all.”

“No, it was not.” Jonathan reaches inside his jacket pocket, pulling a photo out. “The thing you saw, is this it?”

“Jonathan–”

“Mom, please. Just look.” He gives her a set of pleading eyes. “Please.”

It took a moment, but she did. It took another moment for her to process what she was looking at. And another for the realization to settle in.

“W-Where did you get this?” Joyce gasps, and points at it.

Jonathan takes a second to think over his story. “Two days after Will and Stephanie disappeared, I decided to look in the area they vanished from. Somehow, I ended up at a house where one of my schoolmates was having a party; Nancy was there with her friend Barbara. Remember Barbara?”

“Yeah, I remember Barbara.”

“Well, you know she’s missing right?”

“I’ve heard. So you…” Joyce gives a look. “You saw her before she went missing?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But before you scold me, I ended up taking pictures of the people at the party, one of them happened to be Barbara when she was alone at the pool.”

“Jonathan–”

“I know, I said wait… Please.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Continue.”

“Okay. So I snapped a picture, and as soon as I snapped it, she was gone.”

“Gone?” Her look intensifies. “What do you mean ‘Gone’?”

“It’s like she vanished out of thin air. I thought it was weird. Kind of freaked me out too, so I left.” He frowns, scared. Even when he found out what may have happened, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “It wasn’t until earlier today that Nancy came up to me and asked to see my photos, from there she revealed she saw something at the house. A man with no face.”

Joyce covered her mouth with her hand, processing. “Oh, my god…”

“Mom, is this what you saw? Is this what came out of the wall the night before?”

She shakes her head eagerly. “Y-Yes. This is what I saw.” She replies, ending with a small sob. “I… I couldn’t hear them, y-your brother and Stephanie, but I just…” She touches her chest, her heart. “I-I just had this feeling that I knew they were there, right next to me and–” She sighs heavily, feeling like she’s losing her mind again.

Jonathan starts rubbing soothing circles on her back, still holding one of her hands. “It’s okay. Take your time. Just… walk me through everything. Please.”

Another sigh, but this time it was for her to steady herself. “Okay. I… started hanging lights, ‘cause when I-I was in the store I felt their presence, the lights on the aisle flickered, so I thought maybe I can get some reaction here. It took a few hours and I did. I said, one blink for ‘Yes’, two blinks for ‘No’. But–” She bites her lips. “It wasn’t giving me the questions I needed, so I painted the wall.”

“The alphabet wall?” He asked, gesturing behind them with his head.

“Y-Yeah.”

“What did you ask them? What did they say?”

“I… I-I really could only get one answer. I asked them, ‘Where are they?’. Then, they gave me a strange response.”

“Which was?”

“‘Right here’.” She points to the floor. “They said, ‘Right here’.” She frowns. “I… I tried asking what that means, but then they told me to ‘Run’. And that’s when that… th-that thing came out of the wall.”

“It came out of the wall, okay. Um–” His eyes glance over to the tarp. “Is that why you took the axe to the wall? Were… were you trying to see if it was in there?”

“No.” Another shake of her head. “I heard him. I heard Will a few hours ago, so I… I peeled back the wallpaper, and… there was this– this bubble type thing inside, and… a-and I could see him, hear him. He was talking, and he was scared. I asked him where he was, and he told me he was here, but it was dark and cold. And… s-something was coming for him, so I told him to run, and…”

“You took down the wall to see if he was there?”

She nods. “Y-Yes.”

“Okay.” He says, nodding to. He was trying to process this. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Um… shit.” He starts rubbing the side of his head. “I… I don’t have an answer for this.”

Joyce laughs quietly. “Yeah, neither do I.” She sighs. “I don’t know… I do know what to do. All I can do is communicate when I can get a hold of him.”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “I guess…”

Suddenly, the lights flickered for a few seconds, and the boombox flipped on.

[ ♪ –or should I go?

If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ]

Jonathan had jumped to his feet when it turned on, and got all defensive. “What the–”

“See?” Joyce said, touching her son’s arm to get him to calm down. “Your brother is here.”

The eldest stared at the box, imagining his little brother laying on the floor with his legs in the air, and adding color to a drawing he’d finished. He felt a bit relieved that his brother was still “around”; But it also made him feel terrible, because…

He has no idea how to get Will back to them.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will will admit… that this did not go as he planned or at least hoped it would have. He actually got through to his mother, he actually got to see his mother. Even if it wasn’t the clearest image, he could tell it was her. He wonders when the beast crawled out of the wall earlier it must have left behind some kind of doorway to the other side. The sucky part was, no matter how hard he pushed on that… disgusting bubble it wouldn’t budge. All he could do was explain where he was to her and hoping she understood before the faceless beast returned to hunt.

But Will wasn’t shaking this thing off. This thing seemed to be mad, a bit pissed off with the way the movements were, frustrated even as it let out a few growls and huffs of air. He tried to make a few runs for the door, but everytime it kept lunging and throwing him off track. He felt his heart pounding in his ears as he trips on something, losing the shotgun and literally crawling across the hallway to get away.

He finds himself on the verge of tears at this point, wondering if this is how his life will end: By dying by a literal monster on his big brother’s bedroom floor.

Will starts pleading quietly, the beast’s meaty hand reaching out towards him, and at the last minute, Will moves out of the way. The beast ran into Jonathan’s desk before rerouting and stalking over his prey again. Will curls up into a ball in the corner, muttering ‘I’m sorry’ to everyone he knows…

Then his brother’s boombox fell, turning it right on, and causing the lights to start flickering like a rave.

[ ♪ –or should I go? ♪ ]

The beast flitched hard, almost like it was hurt by the vocals coming out of the box. It made a distressful sound, Will uncurling himself to watch this turn of events unfold.

[ ♪ If you say that you are mine

I’ll be here ‘till the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♪ ]

The thing lets out a shriek and starts jerking its head around, before calling it quits. It practically threw its body out the room, running frantically around the house until it finally got out and disappeared. Will followed carefully, poking his head down the hallway where he was met with silence again. The beast was gone. Like… actually gone. Scared away by The Clash? It almost seemed too good to be true.

[ ♪ It’s always tease, tease, tease

You’re happy when I’m on my knees

One day it’s fine and next it’s black

So if you want me– ♪ ]

He comes over and shuts the boombox off with a small smile, and gets an idea. Rummaging around the filth, he started stuffing some cassettes into his coat pockets until they were full before shifting over to pick up the boombox until he remembered something. A boombox is a bit hefty to be lugging around, and what if it gets to be too much and then they have to ditch it? Then what? What could they use? That’s when he remembers his brother had a walkman lying around somewhere. He eventually finds it, and starts making his way back to Stephanie.

Will did his best to carry everything in his tiny grip, still a little scared that the beast might make an appearance again (It’s not like he could whip out his gun quick enough ‘cause his hands are full), but now he knew it’s weakness. Who knew it was something so silly like music?

Maybe… this could be our way out? He wonders about that, and he also wonders about the way he communicated with his mom earlier. If the beast could travel to both worlds, could it also be their key to getting out of here? Could there be another gate somewhere? It was questions like these that were going to be hard to answer. Hawkins was so big, how long would it take them to search every nook and cranny for a gateway home?

This is something I got to run by Stephanie. Speaking of… When he got closer to where they settled down, he noticed she was actually awake; Sitting on her knees in the grass, looking like she hadn’t noticed his presence yet.

So, she is awake. Weird. I thought she would have run after me when reading the note I left her. But he shrugs it off. Maybe she was more understanding than he thought. With a huge smile on his face, he picks up his pace to tell her the good news.

“Hey, Steph. Before you get mad, I found a way to protect ourselves.” He explains, setting the items down next to her. “When I accidentally turned on the boombox, the monster got all frightened and ran off. I know that sounds weird, but it works! We can roam freely just by playing a song! Isn’t that crazy?”

He was expecting a scolding, maybe even a laugh, or a look of disbelief, but he certainly didn’t think she wouldn’t say anything. He doesn’t recall her being the type of person to give the silent treatment if mad. Will repeated the last sentence to see if he would get something, and that’s when he finally noticed something odd. The girl wasn’t… moving. She was just sitting there on her knees, slightly hunched over, looking like a statue.

He’s not going to lie, it was kind of freaking him out. “Stephanie?” He slowly crouches down in front of her, and brushes a few strands of hair out of her face and nearly falls back.

To his shock he finds her looking paler than the last few days, and her eyes were bloodshot red and dry, but that wasn’t what was scaring him. What was scaring him was the fact that her blue eyes looked unnatural, and that her pupils had completely disappeared from sight. To him, she looked like she was possessed.

Will finds himself growing pale himself, completely scared of what’s happening to his friend. “Stephanie?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Stephanie couldn’t help but follow them inside. Her grandmother was saying to Claudia all kinds of loving things, as her younger self wouldn’t stop expressing how much she wanted to hold her baby brother. It all seems so surreal, it felt like it happened only yesterday, but it was in fact twelve years ago.

She runs up the stairs and through the door, as soon as she does, the memory changes. The three of them vanished, and the house looks like it was spruced up more in this scene change. Now, she sees her younger self was a little bit older, Dustin was too, and they both were sitting on the floor in the living room, playing a game on their Atari.

// You’re cheating // Her brother pouts as soon as the score on pong changes to double digits.

She snorts. // How am I cheating? It only has one control //

// Still cheating //

// Dustin… //

Stephanie smiles at the antics. This was pretty much the same conversation every time they played a video game of some sort. It makes her laugh and feel good every time she thinks about it. But this still doesn’t explain what’s going on.

// Ugh, this doesn’t make any sense! // Dustin, a different version, yells from the dining room table. His head lays across one of his books as his big sister looks over it, perplexed.

// I don’t remember learning any of this // She mumbles, scratching her head.

// I’m going to fail… //

// You’re not going to fail //

// I’m totally going to fail //

The oldest shakes her head at his antics. She remembers this too, and despite the hardship of it, he still passed with a B. It’s still better than nothing.

She then nearly jumps out of her shoes when she swears something exploded in her kitchen. She rushes over, finding herself again standing off to the side in disbelief. That’s when she saw her brother standing tall and proud with batter all over his face.

// Pancakes are done // He said, oblivious to her shock.

She rubs her face, cringing at the time Dustin tried to make breakfast on his own which was a complete disaster. How he managed to burn and undercook everything was beyond her knowledge. Oh, Dusty.

Then, she perks up again when her little bro is replaced by her mother. Her hair is tied back, and she’s wearing her kiss the cook apron. “Mom?”

// Hey, Ms. Henderson? //

Stephanie gasps quietly and spares a glance to the side where the entrance to the basement was. Just like she thought, she finds herself staring at a young Steve Harrington, probably about eight years old.

“Steve?” She said, taking him in. A little stripe button up shirt, shorts and small bandage on his cheek; He was also flashing a grin with a couple baby teeth missing.

// Yes, Steve? // Claudia said, not taking her eyes off the stove.

// Can we eat downstairs? Fia and I are almost done with our game //

Fia. Her heart clenched at the nickname she hasn’t heard in such a long time. I kind of… miss it.

I mean, her brother calls her Phanie which was special to her, but that was something only he ever called her. And Steph was just a common nickname to call all ‘Stephanies’. However, Steve’s little nickname for her was really unique and special to her.

Apparently it was still special to her.

Some more was said but she didn’t listen, and before she knew it, little Steve was running back down the stairs.

“Hey!” She shouts and chases after him. As soon as she gets off the last step she finds herself somewhere different again. She was met with a few flashing strobe lights, loud music and lots of laughter. She recognizes this place rather quickly, it was the roller rink they built in the mall a few years back.

// Steve! Stop! // Her preteen self yells, looking like a newborn colt on rollerblades. She was hanging onto dear life to her best friend who could not stop laughing at her over reaction.

// You know you’re going to have let go soon // Steve says, as she shakes her head.

// Nope. No way. I don’t want to fall again //

// Falling comes with the practice, you know //

She sends him a look. // Easy for you to say. You haven’t fallen once! //

// What can I say? // He starts slowly pushing her away, only holding onto her hands for support. // I’m just a natural //

// Steve! Please! // She said, a mixture of panic and laughter. // Come on! //

He hums, acting like he was thinking before he lets go of one of her hands. // Oops //

// Steve! // She warns, and slouches a bit to keep herself small so she doesn’t slip.

// Relax, Fia. I wasn’t going to let you go // He replies, truthfully, warmly. // I’ll hold your hand until you’re confident enough. Okay? //

// You better, Harrington //

// I will. Relax. Here // He pulls her back, waiting for her to steady herself again before explaining. // This is what you have to do. First– //

Stephanie couldn’t help but smile. She loves that memory so much. It was so perfect in her eyes. The all American boy was the most elegant roller skater she’s ever seen, and he was so dorky and teasing, but patient while teaching her the ropes. She wishes sometimes she could go back to this day over and over again. I miss this so much.

“Little Stevie here can’t protect you any more.”

And just like that, the scene changes again, only this time it feels more heavy and darker – like it was sucking the soul out of her. She felt so scared all of a sudden, and when she blinked she was sitting at a bar top. The smell of booze, money and cigarettes nearly knocked her over… and sent a chill through her body.

N-No. This was a painful memory she was trying to forget. What was she doing here? What was the point of–

“Are you not having fun, Munchkin?”

Now that voice almost made her die on the spot. Terrified, she slowly turns to her left, finding the only other person inside the place. He was rather tall,

A bit lanky but built, dark hair and blue eyes. The genes that ran so strong in this family, the genes that her and Dustin hated they both had. And he’s sitting there with a stupid smirk on his bearded face, one that makes her want to crawl into a hole or slap off. She almost couldn’t speak as she felt like she lost her voice.

“D-Dad?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan’s bitter thoughts were pulled back into reality the early next morning by his own mother, who was helping him with his tie.

“Why are we sending daggers at our home phone?” Joyce asked, heavy makeup covering her exhaustion, a black jacket clings to her body that acted like her blouse.

His gaze follows back to the phone before back to her. “I know we agreed not to talk to him at all, besides it being pointless because Will’s body is a fake, but still. He can’t even give us a call about his own son’s death?”

She finishes his tie, frowning out of sadness with a hint of hate for her ex-husband. “Well, another reason why I’m not with your father. This should be a lesson to you, don’t just settle for the first person that gives you attention, or makes your rebellious phase feel ‘special’. I know I’m not the best mother–”

“You’re the perfect mother.” Jonathan pushes, wholeheartedly. “I know it was hard, but for someone doing it on your own, you always made time for us, loved us, and did only what you thought was best. A thousand times more than whatever dad did. I just…” He gets a bit teary eyed. “I just wished I believed you in the beginning. Maybe things would have been different.”

Joyce chokes down her own sob. “Oh.” She brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re going to make me bawl.”

He quietly laughs. “Sorry.”

��And you know, I’m not upset that you didn’t believe me. I never was, and never will be. I am glad that you came around though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Jonathan?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t… don’t do anything stupid, okay? We’re going to go to the funeral, act like we’re in mourning, and when everything is over, we’re going to figure this out. We’re going to figure out what really happened with you brother. Okay?”

He puts on a good smile and nods. “Okay.” Jonathan agrees with a heavy feeling. He knows he agrees, but deep down he’s not. He’ll pretend to grieve, pretend that he mourns his not-so-dead brother, he’ll pretend that he’s not going to do anything with going through his mom first. In reality, it’s the opposite.

In reality, he’s about to do the stupidest thing in probably his entire life.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Claudia Henderson had to fix her make up for the fifth time already, and she hasn’t even left the house, almost too scared to even leave the door. She was sitting on the couch, a ball tissues in one hand and her baby’s photograph in another. She was shaking all over, trying to hold down more sobs. Her son eventually appeared, dressed in black, pretty curls brushed back neatly, and had a glass of water in his palm.

She looks up, watching him silently offering it. “Oh, thank you, honey.” She replies, gesturing for him to set it down. He does, and scoots next to her.

Dustin can’t stand that his mom is this way, and half of him wants to blurt out that something about his sister’s and Will’s disappearance doesn’t seem right, and the bodies in the caskets had to be fakes, but he can’t. He can’t go off a theory that has barely any evidence still.

“Oh… look at her face. I’m going to miss her pretty face.” Claudia continues, touching the picture. “Her little curls, her freckles, her… beautiful blue eyes, those…”

Dustin’s heart clenched. “Dad’s eyes…”

“Oh, not him. Not his.” She shakes her head, batting her honey brown orbs. “No. You and your sister’s are so unique.” She reaches up to cup her son’s cheek, him leaning into the touch. “Hers is like a sky and sapphire, and yours is like this cross of sky, this pale blue and, uh…”

He gives her a goofy smile. “A light denim jean.”

That got her to laugh. “A light denim jean, yes. That’s… that’s perfect.” She then pulls him into a hug. “It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to get through this. Together.”

Suddenly Dustin felt the wind get knocked out of him. What if… what if he and his friends were actually wrong? What if they were just imagining everything? What if his big sister was actually dead?

What if… she really is gone? He couldn’t stop himself from tearing up, a single stray rolling down his cheeks, clenching his sister’s necklace in the palm of his hand like it would make her appear in his arms.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now you know who wasn’t ready for the funeral? I mean how could he when he just woke up in a cold sweat and a dazed look in his eye. Jim Hopper finds himself on his couch, still wearing the same clothes (minus the jacket) that he seemed to have sweated through most of the thin material. It didn’t take long for him to remember what happened last night and immediately bolted up. He takes in his coffee table, which to him seemed way messier than he left it (Plus, there were a lot more empty beer cans than he consumed over the few days).

Grabbing his gun that was right in front of, Hopper wastes no time to run outside with it held high. But as he searched the land that he was all alone on, he didn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary. He almost started to doubt that last night even occurred.

Almost. That’s the keyword.

Coming back inside, he examines himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to find the needle marking in his neck. It took a hot minute, the doubt was coming back until his finger picked up the tiniest drop of blood. Now, the paranoia was setting in, and that’s when he started tearing his trailer apart. Anything he could get his hands on, pictures frames, light bulbs, home phones, stereo system, VHS player, cookie jars, anything was torn apart in his hands. He even went so far by cutting open his couch cushions with a knife.

In a hot, sweating, panting mess, he was about to give up until he noticed he forgot to check his overhead light. Just tall enough to reach it on his own, Hopper carefully unscrews the fixture and that’s when he saw it.

The bug.

Plucking it off so hard that the wires ripped, he examined it close, the disbelief came first, and ended with sheer anger.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

I guess you could say that Steve “snuck out” of his home, dressed appropriately in black attire, still thinking about what his next “detective” move could be. The funerals were being held together to make it emotionally easier for the families, and everyone in town was welcome to come. His parents wouldn’t have approved, anyone associated with them wouldn’t either, but I guess the “good” thing about coming to the graveyard is that he wouldn’t have to worry about any of them. The only person he knows that will be there is his girlfriend. Speaking of…

Nancy was quick to notice after getting out of the car herself with her family. She was honestly surprised a bit, but didn’t let that weigh her down as she excuses herself to come over.

“Steve?” She said, as he flicked her a sad smile. “How… how are you?”

“I’m… I’m good. Really, um–” He replies, fiddling with his hands. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“That’s good. How’s your brother doing?”

“Mike?” She takes a quick glance back his way. “He’s coping, I guess. I don’t know. He’s been really quiet.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Steve says, nodding slowly. “Listen, Nance, I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other night.”

Nancy shakes her head. “Steve, it’s alright. I get it. You’ll tell me about the relationship with your parents eventually. I honestly really don’t care if you do or not. It’s not my business.”

“I know, but still. I got a little snappy and–”

“Steve, it’s fine. I get–”

“My parents don’t like her.” He blurts out, silencing her. He watches her tilt her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “My parents never… approved of my friendship with Stephanie. She wasn’t up to their… ‘standards’. So…” He sighs. “My parents are probably going to gut me when they find out I’m here.”

“Gut you?” She asked, worriedly. Was it really that bad for him to be here? “Friends or not, she still was a classmate, the least you can do is show up for a quick respect.”

“Yeah, they don’t see it like that. They…” His throat felt dry. Every time he starts remembering a few things about his past, his parents, he just feels like he’s going to shut down and hide.

“Steve?” Nancy says, pulling him out of the rut. “They… what?” She needs to know more, she wants to know more. She didn’t like that he looked like a kicked puppy. What has his parents done to him?

“She wasn’t like Tommy or Carol, or even you. Steph was sweet and caring, but didn’t dress like a girl should, she didn’t talk like a girl should, she didn’t…” He laughs, a mixture of nerves and distaste towards his parents. “She likes heavy metal, she likes to wear black and stomp around in big combat boots, and she would always do the craziest shit I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t the girl my parents wanted me to hang out with because she wasn’t a ‘girly-girl’. She fits in with the school’s ‘freaks’.”

“Steve…”

“Sometimes… I miss it. I miss going behind my parents’ backs to hang out with her.” He says, sadly. “But I… I had to end it… for her sake.”

Well that’s news. She thought, piqued. “What do you mean by that?”

“I–” His attention was caught by someone else arriving. “I… I’m going to go pay my respects. I’ll catch up to you later, Nance.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles, watching him leave with a heavy heart.

Steve makes his way over to the family he used to call his own; The mother gets out, in her own head, while the brother immediately stops in his tracks – looking like a deer in headlights upon seeing him.

“Ms. Henderson.” He begins, getting her attention (His throat felt tight again and his chest felt like it was being kicked in). “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Steve?” It takes Claudia a moment to recognize him. “Steve! Oh, my gosh, I do remember you.” She smiles. “You’ve grown quite into a young man.”

Steve blushes a bit. “Uh, thank you. Um, listen I… I know your daughter and I had a bit of a falling out, but I thought it would be alright if I gave you my condolences. If you… approve that of course.”

“Oh, honey, I appreciate it. Friendships, I know, tend to end sometimes, and it can be hard. But I really do appreciate you coming.”

‘That’s good to hear.” He clears his throat and takes a step back. “I’ll be going now.”

“Oh, why don’t you stay?” She said, with her son perking up at the news.

“What?” Dustin said, a bit sharp for his mother’s liking.

“Dustin.” She turned and scolded. Her son gave her a shrug of disbelief, making her sigh. “Sorry. Do you mind staying for the wake? I think it would be nice if we can catch up.”

Steve was honestly lost for words. He’s guessing that Stephanie never actually told them what occurred… at least she didn’t tell her mother the truth. His gaze falls on Dustin who was pouting a bit and looking at the ground; The bitterness he probably had makes Steve wonder if he knew the truth. It was making him feel pretty shitty right now.

Jesus. If his mom wasn’t here I’m sure he would deck me by now. But Steve ignores this and just smiles. “If you insist, Ms. Henderson.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jonathan, or course, ignores his mom’s pleas not to do something stupid. Him and Nancy had both stepped off to the side to discuss their findings, hoping to form some kind of plan of action. “This is where we know for sure it’s been, right?” He says, holding a small map of the area, some places marked with a red X.

Nancy leans in closer. “So, that’s…”

“Steve’s house.” He starts pointing out each mark and their meaning. “And that’s the woods where they found Steph’s car, and that’s my house.”

“It’s all so close.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s... it’s not traveling far.”

Nancy locks eyes with him, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want to go out there.”

“We might not find anything.” He admits with a shrug.

“I found something. And if we do see it… then what?”

He inhales. “We kill it.”

“Kill it?” She said, surprised. “Are you serious?”

“What? You want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it?”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the best we’ve got.”

She shakes her head. “Jonathan–”

“What? You can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. You know that.” He points out as she frowns.

“Your mom believed you.”

He averts his eyes from her. “She’s been through enough. It’s time for me to worry about this thing.”

“She deserves to know.”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell her when this thing is dead.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin was leaning against the wall next to a table full of snacks and drinks, ruefully chewing on some knock off brand cookies. His daggers were set on Steve who was chatting with his mom for most of the wake now. He still can’t believe he even showed up, the same boy who broke his sister’s heart and reverted her back into a bit of a hermit. Now, he loves his sister, his friends do too (probably as much as he does), but he kind of felt sad that after being disowned by Steve she decided to hang out with them more. Times at the arcade she was always driving them; The past few Halloweens she’s been stuck with them; A few times a week at school they would sneak outside for lunch and have it together. It was sad that no one else wanted to hang out with his sister, and it made him mad in more ways than one because of it.

Stupid ass people. He thought, taking another harsh bit out of the food.

“Uh, Dustin–” Lucas says, nudging him a bit. “Maybe try to be a little more subtle on the lasers you’re shooting out at Steve.”

Dustin doesn’t answer his question, instead replying with, “These aren’t real Nilla Wafers.”

“Alright enough about him for a moment.” Mike interrupts, and tries to be the reasonable one. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” Dustin mumbled, turning and taking another handful of cookies, making his friend sigh.

As the boys were distracted a bit, Steve had finally finished the nice chat with Claudia. He almost forgot how sweet she was, and how he remembers he wishes his own mother was like that. It could explain why he was always over at Stephanie’s house when he was young (he kind of misses it). He excused himself for something to drink, only to accidentally wander into another conversation that couldn’t help but hearing.

Mike sighs. “Mr. Clarke. We were going to ask him our questions about another dimension.”

“Oh, right. Another dimension.” Dustin says, nonchalantly, his friends looking at each other with confusion.

“What’s your deal, man?” Lucas asked, confused on the sudden attitude change (and both him and Mike know it’s not about Steve).

“My deal is what if I’m actually wrong? What if they really are dead?”

Lucas made a look. “Dude, I’m supposed to be the skeptical one here. And besides, you’re the one who told us about hearing Will over the radio.”

“This funeral must be messing with your head.” Mike points out. “Will and Steph are alive. Where they are, we don’t know. But we aren’t going to know if we don’t ask Mr. Clarke about dimensional travel.”

“Yeah, man. Don’t be so down yet.” Lucas pats him on the back, before pointing out something. “Look. There he is.”

The Wheeler boy makes the first move, looking a bit sluggish to suggest he was sad. “Mr. Clarke?”

“Oh, hey there.” He says, sending them a bittersweet smile. “How are you boys holding up?”

“We’re in... mourning.” Lucas replies, pretending to be glum too.

“We were wondering if you had time to talk?” Mike asks, nervously.

“We have some questions.”

“A lot of questions.” Steve says out of the blue, shocking the kids who were not expecting this. As the kids looked like they were fishes out of water, Mr. Clarke was overjoyed to see him.

“Ah, Steven. I haven’t seen you in a while. My, you’ve grown to be quite the stud.” He replies, his ex-student bowing with excitement.

“You flatter me. Uh… the boys here were sharing a few things with me that I couldn’t really answer.” Steve points out, still having no idea where this was going and hopes he doesn’t screw it up. “But uh, hey! I always remember you were a man of answers.”

That seemed to fuel the adult’s ego a bit and got him more excited. “Oh, well, I can certainly try. Uh–” He gestures to an open table. “Let’s talk.”

Mike sits and is the first to speak, “So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Sagan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?”

“Yeah, sure. Theoretically.”

“Right, theoretically.”

“So, theoretically, how do we travel there?” Lucas asks, getting right into it.

“Ah.” Mr. Clarke nods. “You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett’s Many-Worlds Interpretation, haven’t you?”

The boys subtly glanced at each other, having no clue who he was talking about; Even Steve was trying to remember if he ever learned this when was young. But they shook their heads ‘Yes’, and went along with it.

“Well, basically, there are parallel universes.” The teacher begins. “Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there’s a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened.”

“Yeah, that’s not what they’re talking about.” Steve blurts out, before realizing he spoke. “Right?”

“Y-Yep!” Mike said, nodding eagerly.

“We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows.” Dustin replies, the anger disappearing for now. “You know the Vale of Shadows?”

Mr. Clarke’s face lights up a bit. “An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic—”

“Yeah, exactly.” Mike butts in, quickly. “If that did exist, a place like the Vale of Shadows, how would we travel there?”

“Theoretically.” Lucas adds.

Mr. Clarke’s gaze locks with Steve’s, who just shrugs. “Hey, I told you I couldn’t answer their questions.” He says, rendering everyone silence.

The teacher took a moment to think this over. “Well…” He picks up an empty paper plate and takes out a pen, drawing two lines and a tiny stick figure on top of it. “Picture... an acrobat… standing on a tightrope.” He shows off his drawing to everyone, before holding in a position where everyone could see.

He continues, “Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules. You can move forwards, or backwards.” He drew an arrow on each side of the figure. “But, what if… right next to our acrobat, there is a flea?” He draws a tiny insect next to it. “Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?”

“Right.” They boys said, intrigued.

“Here’s where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way…” He draws an arrow between the two lines. “Along the side of the rope. He can even go…” And another below it. “Underneath the rope.”

“Upside down.” The boys said, in unison (Steve just flashed them a confused look).

“Exactly.”

“But we’re not the flea, we’re the acrobat.” Mike asked, everything clicking in place.

“In this metaphor, yes, we’re the acrobat.”

“So we can’t go upside down?” Lucas asked, an undertone of concern.

“No.”

“Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?” Dustin asked, hopefully.

“Well…” Mr. Clarke jogs his brain. “You’d have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then…” He folds the plate in half, and aggressively pokes his pen through it. “You create a doorway.”

“Like a gate?”

“Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, almost rolling his eyes at how many times this word was repeated.

“But…” Mike shifts in his seat, another question lingering around. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did, I... I think we’d know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole. Science is neat. But I’m afraid it’s not very forgiving.”

The boys were left awestruck, all three of them looking at each other and agreed on something in silence.

“Wow, uh… thanks, Mr. Clarke.” Mike replies, standing up. “You, uh, really answered our questions.”

“Any time. Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asked, as they shook their heads.

“Uh, nope! W-We’re good. We’re, uh…”

“We’re off to grieve some more.” Dustin said, his friends agreeing.

“Yep. Thanks again, Mr. Clarke. See you at school.”

“Uh–” He watches his students leave, a little thrown off by the mood swings. “See you around.”

“I… better see what’s up with them.” Steve replies, taking a stand too. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too.”

Steve quickened his pace to catch up with the group that was now outside, a small part of him can’t believe what he’s about to do or say. “I didn’t know you guys felt the same way.”

“Why are you following us?” Mike asked, stopping with annoyance all over his face.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bud in, but it just so happens that you guys feel the same way I do about this situation surrounding Stephanie and Will.”

Lucas rolls his eyes for real this time. “Ignore him. He probably just feels bad.” He says, and they started walking away, wanting some time alone to think their plan over.

“No, guys, come on. Listen to me.”

“Stop following us, man.”

“Guys, just a moment of your time–”

“Leave us alone.” Mike snaps harshly.

Steve sighs heavily, the debating he felt was necessary was suddenly over and he finally lets it out. “Her body’s fake!”

And like pressing pause on a TV, the boys immediately stopped. It took them a moment, a solid moment to process what he’d just said before turning around and staring like he was crazy.

Dustin was the first one to speak, the fierceness he spoke with earlier had returned with a hint of disbelief. “What?”

Well there’s no backing down now. Steve thought, and went along with the punches. “I went to the morgue last night, with the Police Chief. Your sister’s and Will’s bodies are fake. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever happened to them, someone doesn’t want people to know how, what or why.”

“You went to the morgue?” Lucas said, after another moment, to process what he just admitted.

“With the Police Chief?” Mike adds.

Dustin shakes his head, not sure how he feels about this. “H-How do I know you’re not lying? You’re the reason my sister was in a rut that whole school year.”

Steve frowns, apologetically. “Listen, I’ll admit I was an asshole, but despite that, I would never, ever lie about something like this. Even if someone I didn’t know, I would never snoop that low. And…” He shifts his weight around. “And if you don’t believe me, you can call the Chief yourself. Although, he’d probably be pretty mad because he told me to forget about what I saw. So…”

Forget being gutted by my parents later, he would definitely kill me on sight if he knew about this. Steve waits anxiously as the boys look at each other, mutely communicating like they were doing earlier.

Lucas looks between them and shrugs (Even Mike does too, as Dustin looks a bit on edge still). “I think he’s telling the truth, man.”

“If he is, why bother?” Dustin asks, looking over at the teenager. “Your friendship’s been long gone with my sister.”

“Yeah, it has.” Steve admits, heart clenching again. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I know her, and when I found out the official ruling for her death, I knew something felt off.” His frown deepens. “I was going to do a little investigation on my own, until I overheard you boys talking about how you don’t buy any of this bullshit either.”

Although I’m still a little confused on the whole other dimension thing. But he kept his mouth shut for now as the boys looked at each other again.

“Can you excuse us for a second?” Mike said, turning around and pulling his friends into a huddle. “Listen–”

“No way.” Dustin says, putting his foot down.

Lucas sighs. “Dustin, look, I understand the hate for this guy, but either way, if we take him in or not, he’s going to be snooping around too. You know, you can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em, right?”

“Plus, he is older, and he can get away with a lot more shit when things get tough for us.” Mike points out, and they all looked back at him for a second. “Come on, man. The more the merrier, you know?”

Lucas and Mike plead with Dustin with just a look, and soon he caves in.

“Fine.” He says, arms crossed. “But the moment he disrespects my sister, he’s out.”

“Agreed.” Lucas said, and they disassembled.

“Hey, Steve?” Mike said, getting his attention. “You think you can come over to my house afterwards?”

-To Be Continued-

Read Part 2: Here

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

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02chois · 1 year

Text

4LIFERS

pairing: choi soobin x reader

summary: soobin reminded you of the pact you suggested and you didn't expect him to be serious about it

word count: 1k words

content: non-idol au, cheesy texts, fluff, you and soob have feelings for each other but try so hard to hide it

note: this was an old work from my old blog and I decided to rewrite it so have this as a treat 🫶🏻

It's been exactly two months since he took you out at three in the morning to a fast food restaurant.

Whenever you get reminded of that time, you tend to get a good laugh at the memory. That was when you got dumped by your ex-boyfriend through text and Soobin was there to be your shoulder to cry on. He went out of his way to come and pick you up and gave you some time to let all of your frustrations out.

You could still remember the way you were sobbing while eating your chocolate sundae and he was trying to stifle his laughter, afraid that he would offend you, but you two ended up bursting into a fit of laughter realizing how ridiculous the situation you were in.

It never fails to bring a smile to your face. Your eyes were puffy and red from crying— it would be strange for someone not to react like that when your whole world crumbled just by one text. He reminded you about your worth and that you deserve much more and you're grateful for that.

The two of you manage to end up in relationships that don't benefit you, they were unfortunate events as you two call it— perhaps the reason behind that is because you love deeply, too much even.

You turn to your other side, moving your blanket over your shoulder to cover more of your skin. The cold weather has been giving you the chills lately.

You continued to scroll through your phone, hoping that it'll make you tired as time went on. You figure that your tendency to overthink might've affected your sleeping patterns. The only good thing is that you have no classes tomorrow and you don't have to worry about waking up early in the morning.

A sigh escaped your lips, your gaze slowly met the time on the far top left of your phone and realized how late it was.

2:30 AM

The time's glaring at you and gives you silent caution that tonight will be a long one. You'd rather stay awake than spend your time tossing and turning as you try to fall asleep.

Ding

Your gaze flickered up to read the message bubble and soon multiple other messages popped up right after the first ring of the phone. You held the notifications down to see who it was only to see your best friend. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he needed this late at night.

You made a noise of confusion, opening your messages to read what he wrote to you. Soobin does tend to sleep earlier than you, so to see him message you at this time of the night kinda… surprised you. But you wouldn't really complain, you're more than happy that he's awake so you have someone to talk to.

You turned to lay on your back and placed your phone down and patiently waited for Soobin to reply to your message. You want to find out what he's currently thinking about and it doesn't help that he's taking quite a long time to respond. You tapped your fingers on the screen of your phone, humming a familiar tune as you waited for your phone to ring.

Manifesting him? You thought as a small smile spread across your lips, narrowing your eyes at his claim. You can't say that you weren't thinking about him a few minutes ago, but you were only reminiscing memories with him.

He still hadn't responded after over an hour had passed. Your palms start to get sweaty and you find yourself checking your phone often because you're not used to Soobin leaving you waiting like this. Perhaps he fell asleep already, in which case your wait is in vain.

Ding

You threw the pillow from your face, your hand frantically searching through your blanket to find your phone. As you brought it up, the screen lit up and displayed his name there, your eyes widening, you quickly unlocked your phone to press the notification.

A fond smile spread across your lips, eyes forming into upside down crescents from how wide you were smiling. That oddly made your heart beat as if you ran a whole marathon, the way it's thumping relentlessly against your chest and that familiar feeling of heat rising up to your cheeks— it's been a while since you've felt like this about someone and it happens to be your best friend. You couldn't believe it. He wants to marry you— well, if you do end up single at that age.

You can't stop smiling now and you swear that you look like a complete idiot. You frantically shook your head, throwing your head down to your pillow as you let out a loud squeal and hope that your neighbors won't hear it. Unfortunately for you, those two layers of pillows couldn't contain your voice.

A loud thud from the other side of your wall was heard, which completely stopped you from your antics. You set up your elbows to support your weight, eyes wide from what happened and lett a few minutes pass before letting out a string of giggles.

You experienced a rush of dopamine due to the abrupt change in your mood over the course of an hour or two. You behaved in a manner that made you think of an anime schoolgirl. It was embarrassing. But, just the thought of someone willing to marry you is enough to make you giddy and somehow weak at the knees.

"I should change his name," you mumbled to yourself. You went back to your phone and opened the messaging app, hands shaking from the rush of excitement.

"Soobtonin suits him," he makes you happy so that explains his nickname pretty well. "My daily serotonin!"

You realized that you overreacted after giving your reaction some thought. You may have assumed that he was calm as you didn't realize how hard he was trying to maintain his composure on the other side of your screen.

Soobin buried his face into the comforts of his pillow, trying to suppress his urge to scream out of embarrassment. His phone long abandoned on top of his nightstand, not daring to look at it again.

He hopes you'll remember that promise and get married in the future.

#soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin scenarios #kpop x reader

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strangerstilinski · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinski / Original Female Character

TW | S2

chapter five

summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough – now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle this. it would be fine. everything was great.

word count; 20k

warnings; explicit sexual content, first time oral sex, car shenanigans, amber and stiles being annoyingly sweet on one another

chapter notes; stiles tries his hand at being romantic and roscoe sees some action. mayhem erupts when derek and his pack decide that the kanima has to be lydia.

masterlist

c h a p t e r f i v e

venomous

There was a quiet *tink* from her left and Amber's head snapped up in surprise from where she'd been laying on her bed reading a book for English. She blinked in the silence that followed before the soft noise sounded again and she pushed herself to sit up, abandoning the worn paperback on the bedspread beside her.

Still unsure where the sound was coming from, she dropped her feet to the floor at the edge of the bed and waited. She was just about to stand when there was a louder, more aggressive version of the noise as something smacked sharply against her window.

She rushed over to peer out through the glass and into the backyard. Squinting into the darkness below, she could just make out the shape of someone squatting beneath her window with their hood up, their hands digging around in the garden before blindly tossing another rock up at the window where it smacked aggressively against the glass in front of her.

Amber slid the slightly creaky window open and laughed when Stiles' head snapped up at the sound. He got to his feet quickly and brushed his hands off on his jeans before waving up at her with a sweet smile.

"Can I ask why exactly you're trying to break my window?" She laughed, leaning onto her elbows on the windowsill.

Stiles spluttered quietly below, "Wh- I'm not trying to- I'm throwing pebbles!" He told her, as if the simple correction explained everything.

"I think a couple of those might've been too big to be considered pebbles-"

"It is not my fault your backyard is significantly lacking in appropriately tiny rocks-" He interrupted.

"Sorry, sorry. Why exactly are you throwing pebbles at my window?" She amended, an amused smile pulling at her lips, "Y'know, instead of using the front door.."

"I- I'm being romantic!" He called up defensively.

"You know what would be really romantic?" She asked playfully, "If you weren't fifteen feet away and I could give you a kiss."

"Good call!" Stiles shouted as he scrambled away, his feet slipping in the damp grass beneath him as he ran out of the backyard.

She shook her head fondly as she watched him go before sliding the window shut again. She skipped down the stairs quickly, catching Jason raising his eyebrows at her curiously as he headed up the steps with a glass of water, the two of them meeting halfway on the staircase.

"Hey, did I hear the Jeep pull in a minute ago?" Her brother asked.

"You did." Amber paused in her path down the stairs.

"Knew it," Jason nodded, "That engine's got a very distinct and mildly concerning rumble-"

Amber laughed and went to continue her descent down the staircase but her brother's hand on her shoulder made her pause again.

"You two.. You're being safe, right?" Jason asked, looking painfully embarrassed as he forced question out of his mouth, "Because I, uh.. Well I noticed the box of condoms in the bathroom hasn't been opened and I want to be relieved but-"

"Wh- Jase, I promised I'd tell you if we moved past friendship and- and I did that. I mean.. Do- do we have to have this talk right now?" She muttered weakly, eyes flicking to the hallway that led to the front door.

"Yeah, we kinda do, bud," Her brother winced, "I just would feel a whole lot better if I knew you were at least prepared if you decide to-"

"If I open the box of condoms and promise to keep one on me, can we end this conversation?" Amber questioned frantically.

Her brother frowned with a sigh, "Yeah.. Yeah, I guess so."

"Good! Great!" She ran back up the stairs, tearing open the cardboard package in the bathroom and stuffing one of the foil wrappers into her pocket.

In the upstairs hallway, the siblings shared equally embarrassed looks as Amber shoved past him and ran back downstairs again. Stiles was standing patiently at the open front door as she stepped into the entryway and she took a calming breath at the sight of him.

"Well, hey there, Romeo." She greeted with a teasing grin as she met him the open doorway.

"Throwing pebbles is romantic," Stiles defended his actions immediately, "It's a staple in thousands of romance books, songs, movies, plays-"

"You are very romantic, Stiles." She pulled gently at the unbuttoned edges of the flannel beneath his sweatshirt until his chest was pressed against hers.

"Yes. I am. Thank you." His voice dropped into something quieter as his eyes flicked between hers, "I, um.. I was under the impression that I'd get a kiss if I used the front door."

"Oh, really?" She asked, leaning back just a little, "Who told you that?"

"Most beautiful girl in the world." He answered without hesitation, his hands resting softly on her elbows.

"Who is she? I hate her." She joked, already leaning in to brush their lips together.

He met her mouth halfway, slotting his lips between hers for a wonderfully long kiss. When he leaned back to catch his breath, Amber licked her lips in thought.

"What're you doing here?" She questioned after a second, "Did I forget we were supposed to-"

"I have an outing of sorts planned." He told her with a grin, "I know that things have been kind of crazy-"

"Mm, I hadn't noticed that-"

He ignored her interruption, "-and I wanted to do something to show you that I still very much want to take you out on dates and things. Despite the crap with the kanima."

"Dates and things," She repeated slowly, "Am I being courted, Stilinski?" His face broke out in a grin and he nodded, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well-" He started, turning to gesture toward the driveway where a familiar powder blue Jeep was parked with a wrapped bundle of flowers on the hood, "If you really wanna find out you'll just have to get your cute little ass in the car."

Amber bent over immediately to pull on a pair of shoes before pushing past him, "My ass is getting in the car!" She called out over her shoulder.

Stiles laughed as he followed but when she went to pull the passenger door open, a hand reached past her to grip the handle before she could move to do it herself. She spun around as the door swung open and her heart fluttered at the sight of Stiles holding up the bundle of white flowers behind her.

"You got me a bouquet of baby's breath?" She asked with a soft smile, reaching for the flowers and poking at the tiny buds delicately with the tip of her finger.

"I did," He smiled at her reaction, "You should've seen the florist's face when I asked for them, though. I guess they're normally only used as a filler for bigger flowers or something-? I'm pretty sure that she thought me asking for a bouquet of only baby's breath was, like, sacrilegious. The lady was not happy with me."

She brought a hand up to his cheek and brought their lips together again in a chaste kiss, "Well thank you for your sacrifice, because I love them. They're my favorite."

"Got a few more favorites waiting if you ever get your ass in the Jeep." Stiles urged playfully.

She rolled her eyes and turned to haul herself up into the vehicle, yelling out in surprise at the sharp smack of Stiles' hand against her backside as she climbed in.

"Sorry," He apologized quickly, "I don't know why I-"

She laughed loudly and sat down in the seat so she could turn to look at him, "Did you just slap my ass?" She questioned in amusement.

"I did," He admitted, cheeks flushing adorably pink, "I dunno what happened.. It was right there and I just-"

"Spanked me?" She asked, barely containing her gleeful laughter.

"I was trying to be a gentleman by opening your door and then I ruined it by- By spanking.. you." Stiles shook his head, an endearing flush still rising on his face.

"You're adorable. And you didn't ruin anything." She assured him.

He laughed weakly, "Okay.. Okay, we're moving on."

He closed the passenger door and rounded the vehicle quickly before climbing in on the other side. Once he was seated he leaned into the backseat and returned with a large styrofoam cup that Amber already knew came from the diner downtown.

"You got me a milkshake from Mal's?" She asked excitedly, placing her bouquet of flowers onto the dashboard to take the cup from his outstretched hand.

"I did," He confirmed before leaning into the back again and digging around, "I also got you this-" He sat back down in the driver's seat with a large paper shopping bag in his lap and Amber's eyebrows furrowed as she watched him set the bag down beside him on the seat, "But I'm not giving it to you until we get there."

She pouted and Stiles spun in his seat to turn the key determinedly in the ignition a couple of times. The engine rumbled to life and Amber perked up where she had her lips already wrapped around the straw of her drink.

"Where are we going?" She asked eagerly, placing her styrofoam cup between her legs in lieu of a cupholder.

"It's a really clear night tonight, so.. I was thinking driving out to the lookout might be nice?" Stiles asked more than told her, "We'll probably be able to see a lot of stars and stuff and I just thought it might be kinda cool. If you want, I mean."

Her stomach tangled in knots in a sort of nervous anticipation, "Yeah, yeah that would be cool."

It wouldn't be the first time they'd been to the preserve lookout together, or even the tenth. They'd gone there to camp out, picnic, stargaze, and spend countless lazy afternoons in the sun. But Amber wasn't entirely sure if they'd ever gone without Scott's company. On a night like this, the spot was practically calling out to be a romantic destination and the insinuation sparked anxious excitement deep in her bones.

Stiles navigated the dark evening roads through town and as her excited nerves grew, her fingers gravitated to pick mindlessly at a loose thread on the seam of her jeans. After a few minutes, her gaze drifted down to the paper bag still sitting temptingly in between them and she leaned over curiously in an attempt to peek inside.

"Nope," Stiles said as soon as he noticed what she was doing, pulling the bag protectively against his side and scowling at her, "I already told you.. You don't get the rest until we get there."

She pouted but settled back into her seat dutifully, bringing the straw of drink back to her lips and sipping on it as she watched buildings pass in a blur that eventually gave way to trees outside the window.

When her straw finally slurped obnoxiously at the bottom of the cup, her eyes dropped down to the milkshake in her hands in surprise and she found herself frowning and poking the straw around at the bottom as she searched for the final dregs of the beverage.

They were less than five minutes away from the preserve entrance when she tucked the empty cup away in the backseat to be dealt with later.

When Stiles finally parked the Jeep at the lookout and cut the engine, she turned in her seat to face him expectantly, eyeing the paper bag against his side.

"Okay, okay." He caved with a laugh, handing over the bag.

She peeked inside excitedly, surprised to find not just one thing, but several smaller items hidden away inside the bag. The first thing she pulled out was a package of sour gummy worms and her eyes rose to meet Stiles' gaze with a pleased smile.

"Your favorite candy." He supplied, gesturing for her to keep going.

The next item she found was a bottle of nail polish in a beautifully bright, sunflower yellow hue.

"Your favorite color." Stiles said slowly.

She looked back inside the bag and spotted a tiny bundle of green fabric and she reached for it in confusion. She fingered the soft material in her hand and her lips pulled into a surprised smile as she toyed with the stretchy material.

"You got me a scrunchie?" She asked, looking between the puffy elastic in her hands and the boy sitting across from her.

"I did," He said, "I know it's not technically a 'favorite' but, in my defense, I didn't really go out looking for it. I was just kinda browsing and then I saw that color and it made me think of the green in your eyes and so- And, uh, yeah.." He trailed off.

She pinched her lower lip between her teeth to stop her face from showing just how breathtakingly perfect of a human being she thought Stiles Stilinski truly was. The utterly endearing image of him plucking a large scrunchie from the shelf at a department store. And then paying for it at the register, where a middle aged woman had likely checked his purchase with a knowing look-

"Thank you," She told him softly, "I love it. It's a really nice color."

He looked slightly relieved at her reaction and he gave her a nod in indication to keep going. When she dove back in, it was to pull out a crisp, newly purchased paperback that she quickly flipped around to skim over the summary on the back cover, an excited smile taking over her face.

"Your favorite.. Genre, I guess?" He told her, "I know you're really into the whole 'whodunit' trope, so I asked the person at the bookstore and they recommended this one. I read the description and thought it sounded kinda cool-"

"It looks great. I'm really excited to read it." She assured him quickly, "Sti, this.. Is so sweet.. And so unbelievably unfair. You asshole. I cannot believe you're upstaging me by getting me such a thoughtful gift one month before your own birthday. Now I have to come up with something mind-blowingly perfect-"

"Anything you get me will be mind-blowingly perfect," Stiles shrugged easily, "Now open up that package of gummy worms because I've been thinking about them for the last hour and I really want one."

With a laugh, she returned all but the candy into the bag and placed it in the backseat before tearing the package open and poking around curiously at the different colors.

"I can never remember, is your favorite the one with the blue?" She questioned, pausing in deliberation.

"Yeah, the blue and red one." Stiles confirmed, scrambling to open his mouth when she immediately tossed one his way and he just managed to do so in time to catch it with his tongue.

"Too bad the blue isn't with the orange," She commented as she chewed on her own sour candy. Stiles furrowed his brows and she elaborated, "Y'know, because Mets."

He grinned, looking pleased with her reference, but before he could say anything she spoke again.

"Oh! Oh, wait, I have an idea!" She announced, picking through the bag excitedly.

She grabbed an orange and green worm as well as a blue and red one and bit off the unwanted colors. Pressing the remaining blue and orange pieces together, she held the new franken-worm up in display proudly.

"Mets!" She declared, handing the pieces of candy to the boy across the car.

"Perfect," Stiles agreed, taking the broken worm from her and tossing the pieces into his mouth, "You are perfect."

Amber's cheeks heated as she munched on her candy, her eyes drifting to the windshield to look out at the stunning view of the starry sky and the flickering distant lights of the lit up town over the cliffside.

"This is really, really nice." She commented after a few minutes of silence as they shared the bag of candy, "You didn't need to do all this, but I'm really glad you did."

He blushed lightly and readjusted in his seat, "Yeah, I just, um. I wanted to do something special."

He reached up to rub at the back of his neck and his shirt rose along his stomach with the action just enough to expose a bit of his happy trail. Her jaw slackened as she was drawn to the movement, eyes glued to the dark patch of hair as she attempted to swallow the candy in her mouth with a heavy tongue.

"I, uh. I actually-"

"Stiles?" She interrupted, licking her lips and dragging her gaze up to his face, "Can I come over there and kiss you?"

He blinked in surprise but nodded, "Yeah, yeah definitely. I- How could I say no to that?"

She slid across the leather bench seat and found herself simply staring at his lips for a moment before Stiles brought a hand to her cheek and drew their mouths together in impatience. She sighed against his lips contentedly as his fingers tangled in her hair and she sunk into the embrace, tilting her head in an attempt to seal their mouths together more firmly as his lips parted against hers. Their tongues brushed despite the awkward angle and she held back a groan at the taste of the candy that lingered on his tongue. She pulled herself away to kick her shoes off on the floor beneath the passenger seat and he frowned at the sudden loss of contact.

"What're you-"

His question was cut off as she climbed into his lap, thighs spread as she knelt over him, the steering wheel at her back.

"Is this okay?" She questioned, suddenly nervous as her fingertips skimmed along the soft fabric of his sleeves. Her weight pressed down against him more firmly as she settled into a comfortable position and Stiles nodded quickly in the dimly lit vehicle. At his approval, she leaned down to reconnect their mouths and he kissed her back eagerly, their lips moving against one another in a smooth rhythm.

She pulled back after another minute and huffed a quiet laugh against his lips when he gazed up at her in confusion.

"Stiles," She said, running her hands down his arms at their sides until she could take his hands into hers, "You're not even touching me." She pointed out gently.

"Sorry," He apologized immediately, "I'm sorry. I'm being really weird, aren't I? God."

At his admission, she leaned back a little further, thumbs rubbing softly along the backs of his hands, "Are you okay?" She asked, pushing herself up on her knees and making a small move to climb off of him, "Do you want me to-"

"No!" Stiles said quickly, reaching up to grip at the sides of her thighs and tugging her back down into his lap, "No, I'm sorry. I just-" He swallowed, "I'm really nervous." He admitted quietly.

She huffed in disbelief, trailing her hands up his chest and pressing her palms lightly over his pecks beneath the open edges of his flannel. As if emphasizing his words, she could feel the heavy thumping of his heart beneath her right hand.

"Did I do something wrong? Am I doing something that's making you nerv-"

"No." Stiles repeated, "I'm kind of- I'm terrified I'm gonna do something wrong and screw this up monumentally."

"So instead you thought the right move was to just.. Lie there like a corpse underneath me?" She questioned in amusement, "Stiles, you've given me a bloody nose with your elbow on two different occasions-"

"Both of which were accidents. And not at all relevant because it's not that I'm worried I'm going to injure you-"

"My point is that I'm not gonna run away if you don't put your hands in just the right-"

"I know, okay. I- Logically I know that." Stiles conceded, his fingertips drumming on the sides of her thighs anxiously, "I'm sorry. I- Did I completely ruin the mood?"

She shook her head, her hair whipping around between their faces as she did so.

"Stiles." She said firmly, watching him blink at her in question before she leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, "I'm still very much in the mood." She punctuated her words by rolling her hips down softly over his and was rewarded with a soft groan from him, "How about you?"

"Yeah, yes. Still very interested." He assured her quickly.

She tilted her head down to bring their mouths together again but separated their lips after a only moment to tug her shirt over her head, tossing it into the backseat. Stiles brought his hands up to skim the fabric of her bra seemingly without thought, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as his fingers twitched along her ribcage distractedly.

"You're doing it again." She scolded softly when he made no move to either grope nor kiss her, simply letting his thumbs rest along the underwire as he eyed her chest with interest.

"I- It is not entirely my fault-" Stiles defended quietly, "I mean, your tits are seriously-" He cut himself off with a wince, eyes rising to meet her own, "I mean- I- Your.. Breasts-?"

"Stiles, you can call them whatever you want. You seriously don't need to worry so much about offending me." She laughed, "I've been your best friend for eight years. I'm pretty sure I've heard you say things a lot more vulgar than 'tits'."

"Right, you're right." He nodded, gaze dropping back down to the plushness of her breasts displayed in front of him, "So, anyway- Your tits. Perfect. Freakin' amazing. And very, very distracting."

She blushed at the comment, settling her ass firmly over the tops of his thighs and arching her back, her chest canting toward him enticingly as she watched for his reaction.

"They are?" She questioned, reaching up to readjust the thin fabric of her bra over herself casually.

"When I slammed Scott's locker on his hand last week, it was because I was staring at your tits." Stiles admitted in a rush.

"You broke his fingers," She recalled before her eyes widened in both shock and amusement, "You broke Scott's fingers because you were looking at my boobs?"

"Listen, that bra was criminal. I mean, come on.. The lace?" Stiles defended, his thumbs drifting up to rub lightly over the bottom of her breast, "And besides, Scott was fully healed in like two minutes. He was being kind of a baby about it if you ask me-"

"I could wear that one next time," She offered breathlessly, "There's no padding, so I kinda feel like it makes my boobs look small but-"

"I can confidently say that your boobs would look incredible in absolutely anything." Stiles commented quickly.

"If you wanted to stop talking about my boobs and maybe start touching them for real.. I wouldn't complain-"

He wasted no time before palming both of his hands over her chest, his long fingers gripping the roundness of each breast as he dusted them over the material of her bra. He tightened his hands to squeeze softly and she let out a breathy exhale at the feeling, her hips rolling unconsciously against the slowly growing bulge in his jeans as she gripped the loose lapels of his over-shirt.

Stiles dropped his hands to her hips for half a second, his head dipping down to press a soft kiss in the space between her breasts before he slid his hands back to cup her ass. He pressed more gentle kisses to her chest, the tenderness contradicted by the tightening of his grip on her backside as he pulled her against him to help roll her hips rhythmically.

"You're wearing too many clothes." She breathed quietly after a few minutes, pinching his offending shirt between her fingers.

Stiles nodded in agreement and she leaned back as he sat up straighter and began to slip out of his sweatshirt and flannel. He threw both articles behind himself uncaringly before reaching behind his neck for the collar of his tshirt and pulling that over his head and from his body as well, letting it land over the steering wheel behind the girl in his lap.

She eyed his chest slowly, trailing down the subtle muscles as he nervously tensed his stomach under her attention. When her eyes caught on the dark patch of hair under his belly button that led beneath the waistband of his pants, she let out a shaky breath at the arousal that flooded her.

Her hands came out to follow the same path her eyes had taken only a moment before, fingers dragging slowly down his stomach until her thumbs met in the tiny trail of hair above his groin. She licked her lips and ran her thumbs softly over the dark hairs, the tip of her finger catching on the waistband of his boxers where they came up just above his jeans.

Stiles huffed out a quiet breath as he tried to keep still under her attention, his hands returning to grip tightly at her thighs as he steadied himself.

She leaned back down in a quick movement to recapture his lips hungrily. Her fingers pressed into his abdomen as his mouth opened beneath her own, lips parting and rejoining as they traded deep kisses.

His hand made a slow trail along her thigh until he could reach between them, his fingers pressing firmly between her legs over her jeans. She moaned against his lips and when he rubbed at the denim covering her crotch again, she detached their mouths to lean back and frantically undo her jeans. Stiles watched her with a dazed look for a few seconds before he moved to assist her, hooking his thumbs into her belt loops and tugging her jeans down over her ass.

"I- Fuck, just- Hold on-" She muttered, climbing off his lap to pull her jeans off entirely and throw them into the backseat with a frustrated huff.

As soon as she returned to his lap in her underwear, his hands settled back underneath her ass without prompting. The long length of his fingers squeezed at the exposed flesh and she groaned, leaning down to kiss him deeply again with her hands at his neck.

After only a minute, Stiles' hand found it's way between them again and his fingers skimmed lightly over the front of her underwear. Their mouths separated as he peeked down between them, hesitating as he debated how to approach things from a new angle.

"Don't second guess yourself, okay?" She whispered against his lips, "I'm pretty sure that you severely underestimate how much literally everything that you do turns me on."

"Yeah?" He questioned, fingers easing down between her thighs to press softly into her entrance through her underwear.

"Uh-huh." She whined with a nod, eyes drifting shut and fingers tightening around the back of his neck.

He tilted his chin back up to kiss her as his fingers hooked around the fabric between her thighs, one of his long digits slipping inside of her in a slow movement. She groaned into his mouth and ground down against his hand weakly, pushing his finger deeper. He thrust in and out only a few times before easily sliding a second finger in alongside the first, earning a quiet whine from the girl above him. He thrust his fingers in and out again with deep movements, her hips rolling down to meet each thrust.

Hands trailing down his chest again, she let the fingers of her right hand dip beneath his elastic waistband to rub lightly at the hidden patch of hair that trailed underneath. Stiles groaned into her mouth, hips bucking up into her touch and his fingers stilling inside of her distractedly for a second.

She fumbled unseeingly with the button on his jeans single-handedly but managed to get it undone, tugging the zipper down to give her more space to work with. Their mouths continued the hot rhythm of give and take and she finally followed the trail of dark hairs beneath his underwear until she could wrap a hand around his erection.

A loud groan erupted from Stiles' throat and her stomach flipped at the sound. She tightened her left hand around the back of his neck, fingertips pressing into his skin as she dropped her forehead against his to break the kiss.

"Off," She demanded vaguely, her hand making a retreat from beneath his pants. Stiles made a small noise of objection into the space between their lips before she continued, "Your pants. Underwear. Off."

"Yeah," He agreed quickly. He pulled his fingers from between her legs and began frantically working to help her shove his jeans down his hips as he toed his shoes off. "Yeah, okay. Taking them off-"

She rolled off of his lap as he clumsily stripped out of his remaining clothes, hunching forward while he kicked and pulled his pants from his legs completely before sliding his boxers off as well.

Once he was naked, he didn't give her even a second to look down at him in the dark car before his mouth found hers again in a heated kiss. She allowed him to control the pace for a long minute, her hands cautiously groping his naked hips until she couldn't wait any longer. She dragged her mouth from his and she pushed him away just enough that she could peer down into the space between them.

She stared for a long moment, transfixed with a confusing mix of arousal and fear as she looked at his dick for the first time. He was nearly fully hard already and she couldn't help the quiet noise that squeaked from her throat at the sight of him. Long and thick and flushed with arousal — so much nicer than anything she'd ever seen in amateur porn.

She shifted back to get a better look and her teeth caught her lower lip distractedly, eyes unable to focus on anything but the long length of Stiles' cock.

"God. Y're so hot." He said quietly, reaching out in the short space between them to slowly free her lip from between her teeth with his thumb.

Their lips met again frantically. He licked into her mouth without preamble and they both groaned at the hunger in the kiss. It was only a minute before she pulled back again, her eyes drawn back to where his hard cock bobbed untouched between them.

She shook her head, attempting to sort through her thoughts before any words could spill out of her mouth. She finally brought her eyes back up to his face, but the words that tumbled from her lips after a moment still managed to be wholly unfiltered.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Stiles dropped his hand from her face and frowned as he looked down self-consciously, "What's wrong?"

"I- Sti, you're huge. Like really, really-" She whispered nervously, eyes flicking between his slowly before dropping down to his erection again for just a second. When she looked back up, she watched an embarrassed flush rise on his cheeks and she swallowed before speaking again, "I just. I've never.. I mean, you are a lot bigger than what's currently stowed away in my underwear drawer and I don't know if I-"

"Wh- We don't have to-" He paused, eyes flicking between her panicked ones quickly, "We're not having sex right now.." He told her quickly before seeming to hesitate with wide eyes, "W- Are we?"

She looked at him in stunned silence for a second, "Oh. I just assumed you-" She took a shaky breath, "Okay. No, yeah, okay, that's kind of a relief."

"Hell. You just- You looked at it and then you-" Stiles breathed out harshly, "I-I thought something was wrong with-"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your dick." She interrupted quickly. Her hand twitched at her side and her eyes bounced between his nervously, "Can I-"

"Yes." He interrupted with wide, pleading eyes.

She shifted beside him in the seat and took his right hand in her left one as she slowly wrapped her right around his length once again and Stiles made a choked-off noise, leaning closer and bracing himself with a hand on the steering wheel. She tightened her grip and jerked her hand back and forth in slow motions, watching the way his face seemed to both tighten and go slack at the same time.

"Is this okay?" She checked quietly after a few pulls, continuing to jerk him slowly.

"Uh huh," He articulated with a nod, "Okay. Very, very okay."

"Okay." She whispered.

Her hazel eyes trailed back and forth between his brown ones slowly until he released another small noise and pinched his eyes shut. Her heart was pounding nervously in her ears as she focused determinedly on the movement of her hand around him.

As if he could feel her attentive gaze, Stiles' eyes blinked open slowly as he lifted his head to look at the girl in front of him. She pulled her lower lip back into her mouth anxiously at him watching her and he groaned, leaning forward to capture her lips with his own in a quick motion.

A soft sound escaped her mouth and she moved a hand to cup the side of his face, pulling his mouth against hers more firmly. She readjusted, throwing a leg over him to straddle his left thigh. Stiles made a sharp noise when the tip of his cock nudged against her stomach on the upstroke, his mouth falling open against hers as his jaw slackened in pleasure.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever felt so nervous, turned on, and frantic all at once before.

"C'you, uh, maybe-" His words were choked as he pulled her hand from his cock and brought it up between them, "Just, um, spit?"

"In my hand?" She questioned.

He nodded, cheeks managing to flush further with the request and she wasted no time in following the order, spitting into the palm of her hand before returning it to his length and resuming her movements.

Her hand slipped along his cock more smoothly with the added lubrication and drew a weak sound from his throat. The head of his cock prodded against her waist again lightly on the upstroke and his moan melted into an even more desperate noise.

"Gotta. Back. Lay back." Stiles pleaded against her lips, pushing on her shoulder to guide her back just enough that he could begin to change their position.

She didn't slow her hand as he attempted to guide her back to lay across the seats but she determinedly forced him to stay upright in the cab of the vehicle. Taking in a nervous breath, she gave him a demanding nudge, her free hand pressing into his chest firmly as she pushed him to sit back on the passenger side of the car.

The moment he complied, she dropped to her knees in the narrow space on the floor between his legs. Stiles looked down at her in awe as her own gaze lowered back to the slow slide of her hand over his cock. She flipped her hand, adjusting her grip and licking her lips in nervous anticipation.

"Okay, so I- Do you mind if I-?" She left the question hanging in the air, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Sure," He agreed immediately, "Wha'd'you-"

His words cut off sharply when she licked softly at his tip, having already leaned forward determinedly at his initial approval.

"Jesus, fucking-" Stiles exclaimed quietly, head thumping back against the seat and hand shooting out to grip at her shoulder in a frantic motion.

She slowly took the head between her lips and into her mouth. She eased down cautiously until she could suck lightly at just the first couple inches, continuing the motions of her hand over the parts her mouth didn't reach. She pulled back off to lick the length of his cock again and ran her tongue in a slow drag from the base to the tip before wrapping her lips around the end once more.

The next time she eased back to lick at the head, her mouth watered at the taste of Stiles' precome that began to coat her tongue.

Not entirely confident in how she was doing after thirty or so seconds of simply replicating what she'd seen in porn, she peered up to find Stiles already watching her with rapt attention, his mouth hanging slightly open as he pulled in choppy breaths. When she took the end back into her mouth again, her gaze caught on the tight fist that he was making with the hand not currently gripping at her shoulder, his knuckles pinched white.

"Amber, I-" He cut off with a quiet groan, "'m not gonna last very- Your mouth.. Is-"

She hummed in acknowledgment due to her mouth being otherwise occupied and he moaned loudly, his whole body twitching at the vibration that the noise made around his dick. His fingertips dug into her skin as his grip tightened unconsciously around her shoulder.

She pushed her mouth down another fraction of an inch, the head of his dick rubbing softly along the roof of her mouth as she experimentally eased her mouth a tiny bit farther down the length of him. His hips twitched suddenly in an upward thrust and the head of his cock prodded at the back of her throat, causing her to gag and pull back with a quiet cough.

"Sorry," Stiles apologized quickly, "Shit. Sorry. 'm so sorry-"

"'s okay." She assured him quickly, already leaning into the space between his thighs again.

She took a small breath in through her nose before determinedly sliding him into her mouth again. This time, when she pushed the first few inches in her mouth, she allowed the tip to softly nudge the back of her throat. She took a deep breath through her nose and fought determinedly against the instinct to gag.

Stiles moaned loudly and she reached her free hand up from where it had been resting on the leather seat beside him and nudged at his knuckles until he loosened his fist. She tangled their fingers together as she moved her mouth up and down the end of his shaft, letting the tip hit the back of her throat gently a couple of times and continuing to work her other hand along the base of his long length. His fingers tightened around hers almost painfully as he fought to remain still while she sucked and bobbed her head.

"You sh- You should-" Stiles slid the hand on her shoulder to fist into her hair and gently tugged her mouth off of him, "'Cause I'm-" He finished eloquently.

She nodded and allowed herself to be guided back, his fingers remaining clenched in the hair at the back of her head even after she'd pulled away.

In the absence of her mouth, she slid her fist lower along his length to collect some of the spit that now coated the end, jerking him using the newly acquired lubrication in a smooth glide.

Stiles moaned loudly at the slick feeling of her hand working him as she continued. It was only a couple more strokes of her hand before his fingers tightened in her hair and he tensed with a loud moan, warm come shooting out onto the center of her chest.

She watched his face as she worked him through it, her gaze avidly glued to his slack jaw, the way his eyes pinched shut tightly, the dark flush of his orgasm on his cheeks.

She couldn't help the curiosity that had her leaning back in-between his legs after a moment to taste the come-soaked tip. A surprised noise left his mouth as she sucked softly at the head of his cock. His thighs were still trembling against the seat and she pulled her left hand from his grip to run her fingertips gently along his waist in a soothing motion.

When Stiles finally released her hair and nudged her arm weakly a few seconds later, she leaned back to lift her gaze to his face again. She let her hand fall from his dick and watched as he took a shaky breath, looking down at her with red-flushed cheeks before his focus seemed to pause on her chest.

He released a slightly pained noise and she followed his gaze self-consciously, her own eyes locking on the long stripes of come that had already begun to drip down in a shiny trail between the valley of her breasts and down the center of her stomach.

She wiped at the bottom of the mess in a weak attempt to clean herself but only succeeded in getting the fingers of her right hand covered in come as well. She had collected a small amount of the mess onto her fingers and she looked up at Stiles for assistance.

"What should I- Do you have a-"

He simply stared at her in a daze for a moment as she spoke, his jaw slack, before he blinked and jumped into action, leaning around her to dig through the glove box and returning seconds later with a couple of napkins.

He immediately pulled her up by her forearms and she straddled his lap, settling over his thighs easily. Stiles spread a hand over her thigh and used the other to wipe gently at the long stripes of his release, starting at her belly button and following the trail up to her chest. His fingers slowed as he wiped her cleavage clean, his touch more deliberate as he brought the napkin over the softness of her breasts and beneath the band of her bra.

She found her heart fluttering in her chest at the gentleness of his touch, her eyes glued to his face as he focused intently his task. He continued to clean her with a shaking hand and once he was finished, he grabbed the second napkin and took her hand into his own, carefully clearing away the residue from her fingers.

Once he was done, Stiles sat back and took a deep breath before speaking.

"That was-" He finally panted, "I- You-"

An awkward blush colored her cheeks. She couldn't comprehend how it was possible to suddenly feel so unbelievably nervous after having had someone's dick in your mouth for three minutes, but that was precisely where she found herself.

"Was it okay?" She asked seriously, leaning back until her back rested against the dashboard, "Obviously I've never given a blowjob before, so. I know I couldn't, like, take all of it because, well- I mean, you're-"

Her words cut off when his gripped roughly at her biceps and manhandled her in the close quarters of the vehicle. She landed on her butt in the opposite seat with a small huff, the breath whooshing from her lungs as she fell back against the driver's side door.

Stiles was on top of her before she could blink.

"Wha-" Her words were cut off once again, this time by his mouth descending on hers.

"That was.. Amazing. Phenomenal. Easily the single greatest experience of my entire life." Stiles praised against her lips between quick, sloppy kisses before sealing his mouth with hers again.

His tongue broke through the seam of her lips almost immediately and she tilted her head in acceptance, feeling him groan into her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingertips of one hand digging into his shoulder while the other scratched gently at the short buzzed hair at the base of his neck.

After a minute, he pulled back just enough to take a much needed breath, nose dragging softly against hers as his gaze flicked between her eyes.

"You taste kinda like-" He paused for a fraction of a second, "Like come. A little bit."

She flushed at the comment, "Sorry."

Stiles blinked at her in confusion, rising up onto his arms to put another few inches of distance between their faces, "Are you.. Apologizing for sucking my dick right now?"

"Well I- You said-"

"Oh god. I wasn't complaining." Stiles told her earnestly.

"Oh, okay," She felt relief wash over her, "Good, because I really wanna-" She completed the thought nonverbally by drawing his lips back down to hers roughly.

The kiss was returned with enthusiasm and Stiles leaned over her, holding himself up with his left arm propped up on the back of the seat and his other on the door behind her.

Though she couldn't see it from their close proximity, his naked body on top of her had her brain fuzzy with arousal. Her legs fell open unthinkingly and when Stiles readjusted to settle into the space, his dick pressed intoxicatingly against the skin of her thigh.

Stiles trailed his mouth across her cheek and down under her jaw, her head tipping back against the window easily to give him access to her throat. He took to the invitation quickly and sucked featherlight at the skin below her jawline, moving lower in a line of gentle kisses until he was at her collarbones. He nibbled at the skin, just light enough to not leave any marks. He continued on quickly, lips dragging lower still until his mouth found her breast.

She hummed, hand around the back of his neck tightening, as he mouthed at the softness of her bra-clad chest in a series of open mouthed kisses, tongue poking out through the seam of his lips to brush against her skin. He tugged the thin fabric down to wrap his lips around her nipple in a soft suck and she gasped, spine arching away from where she was pressed back the door.

At her vocal approval, Stiles moved his mouth over to her other breast and repeated the series of motions. Her bra straps were tugged down her shoulders as he kissed and sucked and bit lightly at her chest, his large hands coming up to softly squeeze at whatever flesh his mouth wasn't focused on.

Stiles leaned back after a few minutes and she took a shaky breath, lifting her head from the window to look down at him, stunned by the pause in his barrage of kisses.

"Can I- Is it okay if I return the favor?" He asked quietly, tongue darting out to lick at his already spit soaked lips.

"Uh-huh, yeah. Yes." She nodded quickly.

She watched him slide further down the seat between her knees, her heart stuttering nervously in her chest as her arms fell away from his neck.

Hands trailed down her sides and his lips pressed softly into the small, three week old slice of pink scar tissue over her abdomen seemingly without thought. As he leaned back, his fingers tucked into the waistband on either side of her hips and tugged her underwear away, tossing them to the dashboard beside the abandoned bouquet of flowers before he continued lower.

She was taken by a sudden flash of a memory. Just a quick burst in her head to the distant memory of Stiles between her thighs that she'd dreamt up over two months ago. With a blink, the image was in front of her, clearer than ever as he settled down between her legs with an anxious wide-eyed look on his face.

At the sight of his nerves, she was about to reassure him that it was okay, that he didn't need to return that favor, but just as soon as she opened her mouth to say the words, Stiles dropped down to lick at her experimentally and her head lolled back against the metal frame of the Jeep's door with a loud thump.

Her legs fell open further and he took the invitation in kind, moving the warm wetness of his tongue softly over her newly-exposed clit. She gasped out a high pitched noise at the warm caress over the sensitive nerves and he immediately licked over the same spot again in a slower, more sure motion.

"Holy shit, Stiles-" She moaned quietly, gasping when he continued to move his tongue softly over the sensitive bud, "This- This is so much better-" She had to break off to suck in a shaky breath as her thighs jerked around his shoulders, "S'much better than it is in my dream-"

The motion of his tongue stopped as he pulled back and she whined in protest at the loss of contact.

"'M sorry, can we back up-"

"No," She objected quickly, "No, no. We cannot back up-" Her head lifted from the window frame and she looked down at him in wide-eyed distress, "I-I don't remember taking your dick out of my mouth to.. To talk-"

"You have dreams about being eaten out?" Stiles asked quickly in interest, ignoring her protests, "Because that is.. That is so hot. You-You have sex dreams where just, like- Someone's tongue-"

"You're tongue, Stiles." She corrected in a huff, "I've had numerous, painfully repetitive dreams about your tongue so please, I am actually begging you-"

He ducked back down in a surprisingly fast motion, but instead of focusing on her clit, he gripped her thighs and spread her legs further, delving lower this time, his tongue licking into her in an agonizingly gentle motion. A choked off whine sounded in her throat and he repeated the movement, pushing further until the muscle actually poked past her entrance.

She scrambled to reach down, desperate for some sort of tether to him, and gripped tightly at the muscles of his upper back. He shimmied his right shoulder further beneath her left knee and she spread her thighs for him that much more, calf draped over his bicep just as his tongue began to lick deeper inside of her with purpose.

"Oh, god-" She gasped, throwing her head back against the window with another painful thump as she scraped her fingertips lightly over his shoulders and neck.

Stiles wrapped his arms around the backs of her thighs and dug his fingers into her flesh, gripping tightly as he worked his tongue in and out. He alternated between pushing in as deep as he could reach and then licking shallowly at her entrance before delving back in again.

He fucked her with his tongue for several long minutes, maybe ten, maybe thirty, it was hard to tell when her brain was so hazy with arousal. Her throat felt dry from the heavy, slack-jawed breaths she'd been pulling in between soft moans of pleasure as he worked his tongue inside of her.

"Stiles," She called out in a breathless whisper feeling truly desperate, "C'you, fingers-? Please?" She begged inarticulately.

The warmth of his mouth pulled away and two of his fingers immediately pressed against her entrance, pushing inside in a gentle motion that had her moaning loudly. The thick firmness of his fingers after the softness of his tongue was incredible. He curled his fingers up immediately to massage at the sensitive spot she'd instructed him toward before and another high gasp left her mouth at the feeling.

As soon as his fingers settled into a rhythm, he lowered his head to lick at her clit again. The combination of his mouth and his fingers had an embarrassing stream of moans rushing past her lips. Her own fingers scraped against his shoulders as she scrambled for some control under the all-encompassing pleasure.

"God-" She moaned softly, voice cracking as his lips closed around her clit entirely, sucking lightly before he continued to roll his tongue over the bundle of nerves, "Stiles-"

Her hips were starting to grind up against him unconsciously as she neared her peak, his name slipping past her lips in a constant stream of quiet, high-pitched pleas.

"Sti, 'm.. Stiles-"

He straightened his fingers out inside of her without prompt and began to thrust them in and out experimentally. She finally managed to pull in a deep albeit shaky breath with the change of pace, but the reprieve was short lived as Stiles studied her reaction and immediately changed tactics, attentively and earnestly trying to learn what made her tick, moan, writhe.

The air she'd only just pulled in was knocked back from her lungs when his fingers curled again but continued the hard in and out movement of his fingers. His hooked fingertips caught against the bundle of nerves behind her pelvis with each thrust and on each slightly rough press of the pads of his fingers against the sensitive spot, she was dragged down just slightly toward him, her ass sliding along the worn leather of the seat and incidentally pressing his tongue more firmly against her clit.

His name spilled past her lips in weak gasps as her fingers dug into his shoulders, shaking thighs straining against the grip of his free hand, and suddenly her whole body was tightening with her release.

The only thing she was aware of was the slow waves of warm white fog in her brain through panted breaths as he continued to wring her climax out of her with his fingers and mouth.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before her vision settled back into a semi-clear image as she looked up at the roof of the Jeep above her. Thighs trembling, she smacked her lips quietly at the dryness in her mouth from her moans, reaching down to unseeingly swat at Stiles where he was still tonguing at her gently with unmoving fingers.

He pulled back in response to the soft slap of her hands against his shoulders and face. Instead of immediately crawling back up her body like she'd anticipated, Stiles moved in a slow trail back up toward her. Soft kisses were pressed along the inside of her thigh, and then her stomach, trailing up along her ribs, her chest, the valley between her breasts. He tugged her bra straps back up over her shoulders as his lips dragged up slowly across her sternum and collar bones. He pressed a gentle line of kisses into the curve of her neck. There was just one soft press of his mouth against her jawbone before finally he paused, lips stopping to hover just above hers.

Her heart was still pounding loudly in her ears from her orgasm, brain feeling pleasantly mushy from a culmination of both her climax and the gentleness of his kisses as he'd moved up along her body. She found herself looking between his deep brown eyes for a slow moment, her gaze drifting across the long line of his eyebrows and his sharp cheekbones before settling on his swollen lips.

"God." She said softly, reaching up to drag his mouth down against hers desperately.

Her fingertips rubbed softly through the smooth, close-cropped hair at the back of his head and her tongue broke through the seam of his lips with a sense of urgency. She finally understood what he'd been talking about before when she absently realized that she could taste herself on his mouth.

"That was amazing." She murmured against his lips when she finally pulled back just a fraction, "Phenomenal, even. Quite possibly the greatest experience of my life." She returned his earlier sentiment.

He grinned and pecked her lips as he blindly reached out to feel around for his boxers. He located them on the floor and pulled back to tug them on before snatching her panties from the dashboard, turning to hand them to her with an unbearably soft look.

She thanked him quietly and pulled them on before leaning into the backseat to snatch his discarded flannel and tug it onto her own body, clumsily doing up a couple of the buttons. When she settled back in the front with her jeans in hand, Stiles had already managed to get his pants on and was just finishing pulling his shirt down over his chest.

She quickly finished getting re-dressed and spotted the abandoned package of gummy worms on the floor beside the gear shift. Grabbing the bag, she dug around in search of one of the red and blue candies. Upon locating one, she held it out in front of Stiles' face wordlessly and grinned when he automatically opened his mouth to accept the offering.

"Hey, um. I kind of wanted to ask you something." Stiles said after a moment as he swallowed the candy, voice quiet.

She frowned, pulling her legs up onto the seat underneath her and turning to face him, "Yeah, of course. What is it?"

She watched his long fingers rub along the steering wheel while he took a nervous breath.

"I just- I wanted to ask if you'd be my girlfriend?" His eyes didn't flick up to look at her until the question hung between them.

"I kinda thought I already was." She admitted, smiling admiringly at the boy in front of her.

"Oh," Stiles gaped, "Okay! Cool. Sweet."

"But, just to be very clear.. Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend, Stiles." She leaned across the car to kiss the sour sugar from his lips before slipping underneath his arm, settling into his side and picking out a candy for herself, "Did you do all of this because you were planning on asking me to be your girlfriend?" She asked, gesturing around them with her gummy worm.

"Yeah," He admitted sheepishly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck and tightening his other arm around her shoulders, "I was supposed to get your attention with the pebbles and then ask as soon as you opened your window. And- and then I told myself I'd definitely do it by the time you were finished with your milkshake. And then I swore that I'd ask when we got to the lookout-"

"It doesn't matter how many times you didn't ask me, it just matters that you did," She told him gently, "And I said yes, and now we're boyfriend and girlfriend and we're both, y'know, aware of it."

"Yeah," He agreed, reaching into the package in her hands to pull out another couple pieces of candy for himself, "Yeah, you're absolutely right."

Amber chewed happily on a gummy worm and tipped her head back against the leather seats to stare at her boyfriend.

"Thank you." She told him after a quiet moment.

"For what?" He asked in confusion through a mouthful of candy.

"For being sweet, and adorable, and romantic, and stupidly perfect despite everything that's going on." She explained.

He blinked and shrugged in an attempt to hide the blush that colored his cheeks in response to her words.

"Anytime, babe." He choked out after a moment as he swallowed the candy in his mouth, a pleased smile pulling at his lips.

The next morning, Amber skipped up to Lydia's locker with a wide grin, feeling on top of the world. She leaned against the locker beside her friend and gave the strawberry blonde a dopey smile as she watched Lydia pull books from her bag and tuck them away.

Lydia's eyes shifted to Amber and she merely blinked at her once in silent irritation before looking back into her locker.

"I have so much to tell you-" Amber said in a daze, pulling at her backpack straps and dropping her head against the locker she was bracing herself on.

"Do you?" Lydia questioned indifferently, "That sounds like something friends do. I wasn't sure if we still were friends considering you haven't texted me back in two days-"

"Oh. Yeah, I think I dropped my phone at the lacrosse game and I haven't been able to find it." Amber explained apologetically, "I'm gonna ask Coach if he's seen it later on, but that is so not what I wanna talk to you about right now."

Lydia seemed to accept her excuse and finally turned to give her friend her full attention, "Fine, what's up?"

She sighed gratefully, "So, Stiles picked me up last night, right? Totally out of the blue. And he was being so romantic and sweet.. We drove out to the lookout and-"

Lydia's locker slammed shut and Amber flinched in surprise.

"Are you telling me that you punched your v-card last night?" Lydia asked in excitement.

"No!" She denied immediately, "No.. I mean, I thought maybe we might but he said we didn't have to and, honestly, I was kinda relieved because I'm not sure if I'm ready t-"

"Well if you didn't have mind-blowing car sex then why on earth do you have that stupidly sexed-up look on your face?" Lydia questioned, smacking her fingertips against Amber's forehead playfully to emphasize her words.

"Oral." Amber said simply as a dopey smile pulled at her lips again.

"Giving or receiving?" Lydia followed up quickly.

"Both," Amber sighed happily, "And it was.. So good. Like, so good. I swear to god his mouth is-"

"Did you ask him to do it?" Lydia questioned curiously.

She shook her head, "No, he offered."

"Huh," Lydia's eyebrows raised as if she were slightly impressed before shaking her head, "How was his you-know-what? Was it average? Small? Uncut?" She asked the last one with a wince and Amber laughed.

"Nope."

"No to what?" Lydia frowned.

"No to all of them." Amber grinned when Lydia's face morphed into surprise, "Seriously. I- I never thought I would think a dick is pretty, but good god, Lyds-"

"It wasn't small or average?" Lydia asked in confusion.

"I know I'm not exactly an expert on the matter but.. No."

Lydia shook her head in disbelief, "So, Stilinski is packing.. And he goes down willingly? Who would've thought."

The first bell signaling only five minutes until classes started rang out in the hall with a loud trill as Amber nodded at her friend.

"He's perfect." She sighed contentedly.

Lydia rolled her eyes and patted the brunette on her shoulder as she moved past her, "Congrats, hon."

The redhead left to get to first period and Amber pushed off of the lockers to make her way to her own class.

As she walked into the English classroom, she slid into her usual empty desk. She pulled her class-issued paperback and her notebook out of her bag and dug around in search of a writing utensil. Finally managing to locate one at the bottom of her bag, Amber pulled it out in a quick movement and it slipped from her fingers to roll down the row between desks before stopping just beyond the desk in front of her.

The boot-clad foot of the boy sitting ahead of her in the next row kicked out and rolled the pencil closer before he bent over to pick it up and turned around in his seat.

"Isaac!" Amber exclaimed in surprise, looking around the classroom in slow confusion, "Wait, you- You're back in school? And, like, no longer in hiding?"

Isaac handed over her pencil, "Jackson decided to recant his statement to the police."

"Did he now?" Amber asked curiously, "That seems uncharacteristically helpful of him. How come?"

Isaac shrugged noncommittally in response.

"Okay, well, cool." Amber told him, "Congrats, I guess. Welcome back to the joys of high school."

"Thanks." Isaac smirked before turning back around in his seat.

It was only another minute before Scott dropped into the seat across the aisle from her. The boy sat down, pulling out his books and spreading them across his desktop before looking up. His gaze focused on Amber for only a second before his attention seemed to snap over to where Isaac was sitting in front of him, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"What's he doing here?" Scott hissed at her across the aisle, his voice loud enough that it was borderline amusing, a harsh whisper that Isaac had to have been able to hear clearly from just a foot away.

She sat up in her seat, eager to fill her friend in, "Oh! So apparently-"

Stiles suddenly stumbled into the English classroom in a mess of flailing limbs. He dropped into the empty seat behind Amber and she peeked back at him with a frown, regarding her boyfriend's haste with curiosity.

"I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I've got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news-" Stiles whispered frantically.

"I think we already know." Scott mumbled in response, nodding toward the seat in front of him.

The girl's brows furrowed as she too looked at the side of Isaac's head, unable to piece together whatever problem the other two were seeing with the innocent werewolf being back at school. She turned toward her friends again as Stiles leaned back into his seat with a nervous look.

"What-" She started, only to be cut off by Mr. Anderson's booming voice from the front of the room as he began his lecture, "Nevermind."

As soon as class was dismissed by the bell, Amber shot up from her seat to approach Scott and Stiles as the three of them rushed from the classroom and spilled out into the hallway.

Stiles adjusted his backpack strap on his shoulder and took Amber's own bag from her hands before she could pull it on herself. He tugged the strap over that of his own bookbag on his shoulder and dropped his free arm to curl around the back of her neck.

Her mouth dropped open to comment on his endearing display of chivalry but he spoke before she got the chance, his own gaze locked on Scott.

"Alright," Stiles started slowly, "So I only found one thing online called a Kanima. It's a werejaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

"That thing running around is not a jaguar." Amber stated obviously, slipping her hand around Stiles' waist as they walked.

"Yeah, obviously. And you and I aren't exactly murderers." Stiles emphasized.

Scott frowned in thought, "Yeah, but you guys did see it kill somebody.. Which is probably why it tried to kill you," He added quickly before continuing, "And it's still trying to kill you.. And it probably won't stop until you're both dead-"

Stiles pulled Amber to a stop and they both glared at the back of Scott's head. Scott continued a few steps down the hallway distractedly before he noticed their absence beside him. He turned around to face them and Stiles' glare only intensified.

Stiles dropped his arm from her shoulder with a huff to gesture with his hands wildly as he spoke, "Y'know, sometimes I really begin to question our 'friendship'."

"Come on," Amber shook her head and moved behind Stiles to grab his hips, urging him forward with her own body glued to his back. She pushed until they'd caught up to Scott again and then released her boyfriend to pinch the soft flesh of Scott's hip between her fingers as she stepped beside him, "You need to work on that brain-to-mouth filter of yours."

Scott frowned and reached up to rub at his side, "Ow."

"Oh, did that hurt the big bad werewolf?" Stiles scoffed, "You poor thing."

They moved through the hallways and headed to Economics where Amber threw her things down into the empty desk behind Stiles as Scott dropped into the chair beside him.

The girl pulled out her notes and a pencil, beginning to flip through her textbook to get ready for the start of class. Her left arm draped across her desk so that her fingertips could toy idly with the collar at the back of Stiles' shirt as she skimmed over the section she'd read the previous evening. There was a loud slam as Jackson dropped down into the desk beside her, smacking his books onto the tabletop and forcing her gaze to cut over to him in surprise.

"Hey. Taint and testicles left and right." Jackson hissed quietly, looking between the three of them. Stiles and Scott both snapped their heads up but refused to turn around and Amber rolled her eyes at the boy beside her just before he spoke again, "What the hell is a kanima?"

Amber's eyes widened in surprise and her friends both turned around in their seats in a flash. Before any of them could speak, Coach Finstock slapped a folder down onto the mess on his desk with a loud smack to garner everybody's attention.

"Alright everyone! Listen up. A quick warning before we begin our review," The teacher said loudly, "Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups.. Because tomorrow's mid-term is so profoundly difficult.. I-I'm not even sure I could pass it."

Amber let out a breath of despair in time with her classmate's groans and wordlessly held her notebook out across the aisle. Scott reached out automatically to accept it and flipped it open it over the top of his textbook so that he could copy some of her notes down for himself.

"Okay! I need a volunteer to come up to the board and answer the first question!" Coach demanded, grabbing a piece of chalk and looking out at the class expectantly. "Who's got it? Huh?"

Finstock called on a boy from the opposite side of the room and Jackson pitched forward in his seat again at the moment of distraction, "I just heard Derek's little pets talking in the hallway. Something about a kanima and Lydia and-"

"What exactly were they saying?" Amber was quick to ask.

"Look. Could someone just tell me why the hell Derek and his band of freaks kidnapped and tested me last night? Why they thought I was this thing called a kanima? Huh?" Jackson demanded as he looked between the three of them.

"What? Why would he think it's you?" She asked in confusion.

"He spouted some crap about a snake not being poisoned by its own venom and forced this absolutely vile slime into my mouth and I was paralyzed." Jackson recounted in a hiss, "Paralyzed. From the neck down. Do you have any idea what that feels like?" He snapped rhetorically.

"Uh, yeah, kinda." She muttered bitterly, tapping her pencil eraser against the top of her desk restlessly.

Stiles turned in his seat and instinctively wrapped his hand around Amber's fidgeting one as he glared at Jackson, "We're familiar with the sensation."

"Wait, back up-" Scott turned in confusion, "Seriously, why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

"How should I know?" Jackson shot back.

"Wait, wait, wait," Amber whispered frantically, leaning out further into the aisle to hiss another question at Jackson, "Do they think it's Lydia?"

He shrugged with indifference, "I don't know. All I heard was her name and something about Chemistry-"

"Jackson! Callisto!" Coach yelled suddenly. All four teens flinched and Stiles and Scott spin back around in their seats again to face the front of the room as their teacher continued, "Do either of you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Um.." Jackson said slowly, drawing out the word as his eyes met Amber's across the aisle.

"We were just.. Discussing our, um, undying admiration for our favorite teacher and coach.." She said slowly, heart still pounding with adrenaline at being called out.

"That's really kind of you," Coach smiled, insincerity bleeding out from beneath his expression as he looked between them, "Now shut up! Shut it!" He yelled before turning back to the rest of the class in search of another volunteer to answer a review question up at the board.

The moment their teacher turned around, Scott reached over to grab ahold of Stiles' sweatshirt and Amber's wrist, yanking them both toward him with a little too much force. Amber's ribs smacked down against her desk painfully as she pitched forward while Stiles nearly fell out of his seat and into the aisle.

"How do we know it's not Lydia?" Scott whispered quietly, oblivious to the matching winces from his best friends in response to his display of strength.

"Because. We've looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what we saw was pure evil." Stiles explained, turning to look at Amber's frowning face for a second before continuing, "And, y'know, when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see like 50% evil."

Amber slapped him on the back of his head aggressively and he flinched, turning to shoot her an irritated look before returning his attention to Scott.

"Honestly, maybe 60%," He amended in retaliation, easily catching Amber's wrist when she reached out to smack him again. Stiles sighed and refused to release her arm as he continued, "But, y'know, no more than 40 on a good day." He added reassuringly in a weak attempt to appease the girl behind him.

"Stiles!" Amber hissed, entirely unpacified as she kicked a foot out to thump against the bottom of his chair.

"Yeah.. Dude, that's not a very good argument." Scott pointed out quietly.

"I swear it's not her," Amber cut in, "It- It can't be, alright? Lydia's.. Lydia's fine." She said weakly, her mind spiraling with the long list of issues regarding her friend's current mental state.

The words hung in the air for not twenty seconds before the redhead in question let out a soft cry from the front of the room where she had been answering a question on the blackboard. Amber looked up to find Lydia no longer facing the board, though she still held chalk in a tight grasp between her fingers as tears ran down her face.

Amber's heart dropped. "Lyds?" She called out softly, dropping her pencil down on her desk.

"Lydia?" Coach Finstock questioned in confusion as he moved toward the board, "Lydia?" He said again — louder this time.

Lydia merely whimpered, eyes still pinched shut. Another stream of tears trailed down her cheeks, pulling mascara from her lashes as they fell and leaving tiny black smudges along her face in their wake.

Amber pushed out of her seat and Stiles finally dropped his hold on her wrist as she hurried down the row toward the front of the room.

"Lydia?" She stepped in front of her friend to block her off from as many of their classmates' curious stares as she could before calling out again more firmly, "Lydia!"

Lydia's eyes snapped open and they cut sharply around her in surprise and confusion.

"Okay, then.." Coach said loudly, turning back toward the class, "Anyone else want to try answering? This time in English?" He joked.

Lydia spun around in a flash and she and Amber both blinked in confusion at what the redhead had written on the board in her daze. It was English. But the letters had all been written backwards, the words mirrored and jumbled together curiously.

SOMEONEHELPME

Amber was spiraling.

Her heart had felt on the verge of beating out of her chest for the last hour and a half and she was beginning to genuinely worry about what kind of an effect the stress might have on her body long term.

"God, what if it is Lydia?" She whined, "It's not, right? I- I don't- And Derek won't actually kill her, will he? He wouldn't, right? I mean, he couldn't have meant that-"

Stiles had his fingers locked tightly with hers and Scott dropped a hand over the back of her neck to give her a reassuring squeeze as they stepped into the classroom for their weekly Chemistry Lab.

"Derek's not gonna kill her without proof." Scott attempted to reassure her.

"Alright. So, then, he tests her like he did with Jackson, right?" Stiles reasoned.

"But where?" Amber questioned, "When?"

Scott sighed as he looked around the classroom in search of empty seats, his eyes widening as Erica and Isaac stepped through the door at the opposite end of the room.

"I think here and now." He realized suddenly.

Their gazes all flicked over to the empty lab chair beside Lydia in a panic.

Isaac and Erica began to determinedly make their way down the row between tables and the three friends jumped into action. Amber sprinted to claim the seat beside Lydia, Scott sat at the table just behind them, and Stiles simply pulled an extra chair from the side of the room to settle in at the corner on Lydia's other side, even though the table was only meant to seat two.

Amber sighed in relief and gave Lydia a weak smile when the other girl looked between her and Stiles in confusion. Stiles grinned awkwardly at the redhead in greeting and she returned her gaze to Amber with a slow blink to convey her annoyance.

As the room filled, Mr. Harris stood from his desk to address the class, "Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite: The universe and human stupidity.'" He recited, "And I'm not sure about the universe, but I, myself have encountered.. Infinite stupidity."

As if emphasizing his words, the teacher dropped a hand heavily onto Stiles' shoulder as he stepped up to their table. Mr. Harris thumped his hand against the boy's back with enough force that Stiles' body rocked forward with each pat as his face pinched in irritation.

"So," Mr. Harris continued, "To combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one." His gaze dropped to Stiles again with a frown of distaste and Amber's jaw clenched in anticipation, "Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one."

Amber huffed in annoyance. When she caught Stiles' eye, she quickly pulled her face into what she hoped was a bright smile while he grimaced at their teacher singling him out yet again.

"Erica," Mr. Harris called, "You'll take the first station with-"

Hands around the classroom shot up eagerly, mostly boys but a couple of girls as well, all hoping to be partnered with the blonde.

"I didn't ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down." Mr. Harris snapped, shifting his eyes over the room, "Erica, you'll start with McCall."

He paired off the rest of the class for the start of the experiment. Half of the class would move stations and switch partners between reactions, starting the first half of the experiment before finishing the second half of someone else's.

Amber found herself partnered with Isaac for the first round, able to work with Stiles for the final half. She'd normally be relieved, were it not for the fact that when Isaac left her, he was set join Lydia, of all people.

Isaac dropped into the seat beside Amber with a wink, shooting Stiles a smug grin when he noticed the boy hesitating before leaving his girlfriend's station.

"Stiles, it's fine." Amber reassured him softly.

His face pinched in frustration but he gathered his backpack into his arms, intentionally bumping Isaac's shoulder as he passed by with a parting glare.

"A little clingy, isn't he?" Isaac observed, unscrewing the cap from the solution they needed to start measuring to begin the experiment.

"You think so?" Amber questioned, "I think his protectiveness is pretty justified, all things considered." She narrowed her eyes at her current lab partner in consideration for a moment, "Didn't you used to be nice? What happened to that guy?"

She used a small scoop to measure out the sucrose they would eventually need to add the liquid currently coming to a boil over their flame.

"That guy was a loser." Isaac muttered, voice so quiet that Amber almost didn't catch it.

"Says who?" She countered, continuing to scoop the granules from one container to the other.

"Lydia said so," Isaac shrugged, watching her work, "What, you don't remember? You were right there. Always a loyal friend, even when it's to a cold-hearted bitch."

"Hey!" She snapped sharply, spilling some of her next scoop over the tabletop.

"It was the first day of Freshman year," He continued at if she hadn't spoken, "I asked her out."

"I definitely don't remember this." She told him.

"She laughed at me," Isaac recounted, "Said she didn't date losers and I should come back when the bike I rode to school had an engine, not a chain."

"Okay, so that wasn't very nice of her," She agreed, "But that doesn't make her a bad person, alright? I mean, you're still upset about this? It was like a year and a half ago, Lahey. We've all changed and grown-"

"Some of us more than others." He interrupted with a smug grin, cutting the flame so that she could start pouring the sucrose into the beaker.

"If you're really so heartbroken and you want to do something about it, take a creative writing class or something. Channel all that anger and negative energy into something that might actually be useful." Amber muttered.

She poured out the granules slowly and watched them dissolve as Isaac swirled the liquid around with a stirrer.

"Nah," He shot down the idea casually, "I'm not very good at writing. I was thinking I'd just channel it into killing her-"

His words caused her to flinch, the glass container she was pouring the sucrose from slipping from her hand and shattering against the tabletop with a loud crash as Mr. Harris rang the tiny bell on his desk in signal for them to change of stations.

"Switch." The teacher called out.

Mr. Harris stood from his desk to grab a small dustpan from the side of the filing cabinet and dropped it gingerly over the pile of glass at Amber's station. She wordlessly began to sweep the mess away, watching with wide eyes as Isaac stood and began to move over to Lydia's table.

Stiles bumped his shoulder against Isaac's again and the werewolf looked down at the human in amusement as Stiles' face tightened in anger.

"Mr. Stilinski," Their teacher's voice snapped, "If you're trying to test my patience, I guarantee it'll lead to a failing grade."

Stiles made a small noise of frustration but dropped into the abandoned seat beside Amber wordlessly. He took the dustpan from her hands and dumped it into the trash before leaning close.

"What happened? You okay?" He asked quickly, "Because I swear to god if he did something, I'll turn his little werewolf ass into a fur coat and I'll give it to you for your birthday."

She raised her eyebrows, "My birthday is in August."

"You can wear it in the fall." Stiles countered quickly, "I'm serious. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just-" She nodded her head to where Isaac was working with Lydia and Stiles followed her gaze with a frown.

The pair distractedly finished the second half of the experiment, fumbling to mix things together while attempting to keep an eye on the station beside them where Isaac seemed to be working dutifully with Lydia.

Mr. Harris finally rang the tiny bell at the front of the room again and everyone looked up in response to the sudden sound.

"Time," The teacher announced, "If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should be looking at a crystal."

Stiles and Amber both let their gaze drop to the yellow mush at the bottom of their beaker with a wince.

"Now for the part of the experiment you'll enjoy," Mr. Harris told the class, "You can eat it."

Stiles held the beaker out toward Amber as if daring her to try their failed concoction of ingredients and she pulled a face of disgust as she pushed his hand away with a gag. When her eyes drifted to the front of the room, Mr. Harris had his eyebrows raised judgmentally, his gaze locked on the beaker that Stiles was setting down on the tabletop.

"Lydia!" Scott shouted in sudden alarm, gaining everyone's attention.

Amber flinched and sat up in her seat, looking over at Lydia worriedly, but the other girl seemed to be fine. Lydia was giving Scott a look of annoyed confusion, a perfectly concocted crystal held between her parted lips.

"What?" Lydia asked in irritation.

"Nothing." Scott slowly righted his chair from where he'd kicked it out in his haste a moment before.

Amber looked over at her best friend in confusion and he tilted his head in Lydia's direction pointedly, mouth silently moving as he tried to tell her what was going on, 'Kanima.'

Her eyes snapped back to Lydia and Amber only now spotted the familiar shiny substance coating the crystal in the girl's mouth. Lydia's tongue caught on the kanima venom as she moved to take another bite from her experiment and all of the supernaturally aware teens in the room watched on in alarm.

Lydia's teeth crunched down on the crystal and Amber found herself flinching in response to the quiet sound, heart pounding in her chest. A few slow seconds passed but nothing happened to the redhead.

It seemed the venom didn't affect her.

"Derek's waiting outside for Lydia." Scott told Allison, Amber, and Stiles as they hid away in Coach Finstock's office around lunchtime.

"Waiting to kill her?" Allison questioned.

The knots in Amber's stomach tied themselves that much tighter and she looked to Scott with wide eyes.

"If he thinks she's the Kanima, then yes." He told them, "Especially after what happened at the pool."

"But it's not her. I mean, it- it can't be!" Amber told them resolutely.

"She didn't pass the test, Amber. Nothing happened." Scott reminded her.

"But she left!" She assured them, "That night at the pool, she left before I even went inside and she wouldn't have come back-"

"You can't really know that for sure, though. Can you?" Stiles asked gently.

"It doesn't matter," Allison interrupted slowly, leaning back to sit over the edge of Coach's desk, "Because Derek thinks it's her. So.. Either we convince him that he's wrong, or we've got to figure out a way to protect her."

Amber found herself nodding wildly in agreement.

"Well I don't think he's gonna do anything here," Scott said quickly, "Not at school."

"Okay, but what about after school?" Amber questioned worriedly.

Allison threw her head back in distress before looking back at them slowly, "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By three o'clock?" Stiles questioned incredulously.

"Th- There could be something in the bestiary-" Allison started.

"The nine hundred page digital book that's apparently written in Archaic Latin?" Amber clarified in barely concealed irritation, "The one that none of us can read? That bestiary?"

"Yeah, good luck with that." Stiles added with a shake of his head.

Allison didn't seem to be affected by their negativity, her gaze drawn to Scott as she seemed to get an idea, "Actually, I think I know someone who might be able to translate it."

Amber let out a breath, "Okay.. So Allison gets the translation and uh, I can.. I'll go out and talk to Derek. Maybe if I-"

"No." Scott disagreed quickly. Amber's eyebrows pulled together at his immediate dismissal but he shook his head at her firmly, "No, you stay away from him for now, alright? I mean it-" Amber frowned and Scott gave her a serious look, "I'll talk to Derek. See if I can get him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her. But you guys.. Look, if anything happens, you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that even mean?" Amber stepped closer to Scott in confusion.

"It means that you guys can't heal like I do." He said, eyes drifting over all three of them slowly, "I just- I don't want you getting hurt." His gaze paused on Allison at the tail end of his statement, a worried look on his face.

Allison pushed off from the desk quickly, turning to rifle through her shoulder bag for a moment and Amber lifted up onto her tiptoes to see what the other girl was doing with interest. When Allison turned to face them again, she was holding a tiny, handheld crossbow, arrow already sheathed and ready to be fired.

"I can protect myself." Allison told Scott with narrowed eyes.

"Is that, like, a pocket-sized crossbow?" Amber asked curiously, catching sight of Stiles as he also eyed the device with clear interest.

"Wh- Did something else happen?" Allison asked Scott softly after a moment passed without response, setting her weapon on top of Coach's desk to take a step closer to where he and Amber were standing.

Amber's mind flashed briefly to the image of Scott standing in her bedroom late on Tuesday night. She recalled the small tear at the bottom of his shirt that had been overtaken with a dark bloodstain. When she'd frantically lifted his shirt, it was to find the skin of his abdomen unmarred and already healed. He'd told her how Allison's grandfather had thrust a knife into his gut when he'd gone to pick his mom up from work, the threatening words the old man had spit at him as he twisted the blade to drive his point home.

Amber remembered the way Scott had pleaded with her not to tell Allison what had transpired. How he'd encouraged his friend to be more careful around their new principal, confiding in her the worries he had that even Allison wasn't entirely safe from him.

Looking at Scott now, Amber could make out the terror behind his eyes, the deep-rooted worry he was carrying that something awful might happen and he'd be unable to protect them.

"I just don't want you getting hurt." Scott repeated, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two girls in front of him, "Seriously, if anything goes wrong, you let me handle it. Okay?" He looked to Allison, his expression pleading, "I- I don't care if your dad finds out. Call, text, scream, yell, whatever. I'll hear you and I'll find you as fast as I can."

Amber swallowed nervously at the sobering weight of his words, watching as Allison nodded at him in silent agreement.

Scott sighed, "We have until three."

He looked between Amber and Allison again with a small nod of his own before turning toward the door of the office and making to leave. Amber followed close behind but only narrowly avoided running into his back when he stopped suddenly and spun around to face her. Scott's hand shot out behind her and she turned around beneath his arm in surprise and confusion. Her eyes widened at the sight of the arrow clutched in his hand, the object snatched just an inch beyond where the back of her head had been only a moment before.

"Ah, Sorry! Sorry-" Stiles rushed out with wide eyes, giving the crossbow in his hands back to Allison quickly, "It's a sensitive trigger on that-" He told them awkwardly.

Amber's heart was thumping loudly in her chest, eyes bouncing between the arrow in Scott's hand and her boyfriend across the room, "Wh- Why were you aiming it at me at all?" She squeaked.

"I wasn't! I wasn't aiming it at you!" Stiles defended. Everyone blinked at him in disbelief and he clarified immediately, "I mean, I was just holding it! And it happened to be pointed.. In- in your general direction.."

"Stiles. You almost shot her, dude." Scott scolded, handing the arrow back to Allison as well.

"I- I am aware of that. Thank you, Scott." Stiles snapped.

Amber huffed quietly, heart stammering beneath the ebbing adrenaline in her veins, "Look, I-I really need to go and talk to Danny before free period ends."

"Wh- Babe, just hold up-" Stiles called out, stepping toward her.

"I'll see you guys later." She told the group quickly before slipping out the door.

"Amber. Hey, c'mon, wait a sec-!"

She didn't wait, already hurrying down the hallway in the hopes of catching Danny working in the library the way he so often did during the free period. When she stepped through the doors, the boy in question was sitting at a table with Jackson and Matt Daehler, the latter standing at the back of Danny's seat as they conversed.

"-hey. We could've done it together." Matt laughed, nudging Danny playfully.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt." Amber cut in, moving to stand at Danny's other side.

"Then why are you?" Jackson asked in clear annoyance.

Danny punched him in the arm, turning toward the girl with a grin, "Not interrupting, what's up?"

"I, uh- I talked to Coach and he said you helped with cleanup after the game on Tuesday?" She started, continuing at Danny's nod, "Okay, good. So, I lost my phone and I was hoping-"

"Oh, hey!" Matt cut in, moving around the table to stand beside her and pulling his bag off of his shoulder to dig through its contents, "Is this yours?" He asked, pulling his arm from the depths of the bag with her cell phone in hand.

"Oh my god!" She squealed excitedly, "Yes!"

She took the phone from his hand quickly and wrapped him into a quick hug in thanks.

"I found it under the bleachers at the end of the game," Matt explained, "But by the time I thought to check it to see whose it was, the thing was dead. And my charger doesn't fit it."

"No, no, don't worry about it-" She told him in a rush, brushing her fingers over the device gratefully, "I'm just glad it's not gone forever. I have so many pictures on here that I haven't gotten around to backing up on my computer-"

"That's a pretty bad habit." Matt grinned playfully.

"God, I know." She agreed, "And one I will never do again. I am.. So relieved, right now. Seriously, thank you so much for finding it."

"No problem," He shrugged, zipping his bag back up, "Sorry I didn't get it back to you sooner."

The bell rang out signaling the end of the period and the group collectively sighed at the knowledge that they needed to get to their next class. They all split off and as Amber walked down the hall, she fingered at the power button on her phone thoughtlessly.

The screen lit up suddenly and her steps faltered in surprise, eyes narrowing as she watched her phone power back up slowly.

Her eyes focussed on the wallpaper displayed on the device as it booted up, gaze scanning the cropped image she'd snapped of one of the photostrips she and Stiles had posed for on their date at the ice rink. The top picture displayed Stiles looking down at her in feigned surprise, their fingers laced together in front of the camera as Amber bit down playfully on his wrist. She was slightly blurry in the bottom picture, head thrown back against Stiles shoulder in hysterics from the tickling of his fingers in her sides while he laughed with a big smile directed straight at the camera. The pictures had a warmth blossoming in her chest despite the stresses that had unfolded throughout the day.

The device finally booted up enough for her to unlock it and her eyes went to the display of the battery life in the corner of the screen. She squinted at it and her eyebrows furrowed further in confusion. It was still at 62%.

"Huh."

Amber's leg was bouncing anxiously and she knew it was starting to irk the girl beside her but she couldn't stop the frantic movement.

"Why exactly can't we start studying yet?" Lydia asked, using all of her willpower to not snap at her friend when Amber began to drum her hand against the tabletop as well.

"We have to wait for everybody else." She explained, eyes still glued to the library doors.

Lydia sighed quietly, "Who exactly are we waiting on?"

Amber's eyes cut over to the redhead for a second before fixing themselves on the doors again, "What d'you, uh.. Y'know, everybody. Allison, Stiles, um-"

The library doors burst open and Amber jumped so hard she nearly fell from her seat as Stiles approached their table with fast steps.

"C'mon, time to go." He urged quickly, pulling his girlfriend up with a hand in hers and ushering both girls toward the side doors.

"Where are we going?" Lydia asked in confusion.

"Study group," Amber supplied brightly, pulling her hand from her boyfriend's to urge Lydia to move faster as they headed into the hallway, "At Scott's house."

Lydia looked the couple beside her over in confusion as they walked abnormally quick steps, "If we're doing study group, why didn't we just stay in the library?" She questioned obviously.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else." Stiles explained, frowning at Amber as she stepped to Lydia's other side and away from him.

"Hm," Lydia hummed, "Well, why don't they just meet us in the library?"

"Oh, that would've been a great idea!" Stiles acknowledged, "Too late."

Lydia paused, slowing her steps, "Okay, wait-"

Jackson suddenly pushed between Amber and Lydia to pull the redhead forward with a firm hand wrapped around her bicep.

"Lydia, shut up and walk." He snapped quietly, pleasant as ever. His fingers were pried from their place around Lydia's arm as quickly as they'd appeared, Amber squeezing his hand in a shockingly tight grip as they continued to walk.

"Jackson, if you want to keep your hand, then I suggest you don't grab her like that again." She whispered darkly.

Jackson rolled his eyes in response to the threat and ripped his hand away, making a show of gently dropping it onto Lydia's shoulder as he continued to urge her forward.

Stiles stepped up behind Amber and put his own hand on his girlfriend's back, face pressed close to hers as he spoke quietly into her ear, "Hey, so I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for-"

"Stiles, now's really not the time." She told him in an equally hushed voice.

"I know it's not the best time but-"

"Stiles," She whispered sharply, shooting Lydia a smile when the other girl flicked her gaze over curiously as they rounded a corner, "I know it was an accident, okay? It's fine. It just- It scared me, is all."

"Scared the crap outta me too, if it's any consolation." Stiles muttered under his breath.

She reached to take his opposite hand into hers and gave it a quick squeeze, "It's okay. I'm fine. No harm done, right? I forgive you." She promised in a soft whisper.

They pushed through the main doors of the building and quickly made their way down into the parking lot toward Stiles' Jeep. Lydia's steps faltered when she spotted Allison leaning against the blue vehicle in wait and Amber bumped into her back before pushing her to keep moving.

"Wait, wait- We're riding in that?" Lydia asked with a frown, voice high.

It took a moment longer than it should have for Amber to realize that Lydia's thoughts were focused on what she'd divulged that morning detailing the events that had taken place in the Jeep the night before.

"Yes, Lydia. We're riding in that." She said in exasperation, "It has the most room."

Stiles caught sight of Lydia's pinched face as they stepped up to the vehicle and he blinked in confusion, "The Jeep comfortably rides six, I.. Why're we dissing the Jeep? What's wrong with the Jeep?" His attention focused solely on his girlfriend as he asked the last question.

She pulled open the passenger door and threw the seats forward so that Jackson and Lydia could climb into the back.

"Nothing is wrong with the Jeep. Absolutely nothing. Right, Lydia?" Amber asked pointedly.

"It's fine," Lydia agreed begrudgingly, still pouting as she began climbing into the vehicle, "Even though there is no way this thing has had enough time to properly air out-" She muttered to herself as she crawled into the back seat.

The tires of the Jeep practically squealed when Stiles slammed on the breaks outside of the McCall house. As soon as Allison and Amber were out of the vehicle at the passenger side, the latter threw the back of the seats down again to let Jackson and Lydia climb out onto the sidewalk.

When Lydia moved to close the passenger side door, Amber automatically took over to slam the door firmly, habitually holding it steady with her hand pressed firmly against the left corner for half a second in a practiced move to ensure that the heavy door latched and remained shut.

"If we're studying at Scott's house, then where's Scott?" Lydia asked determinedly, giving Amber a sharp look to convey that she knew something was up.

"Meeting us here," Stiles interjected quickly as he rounded the vehicle, "I think. I hope.."

"He'll be here." Amber assured Lydia before turning to give Stiles a disbelieving look at his lack of composure.

When they stepped inside the house, Stiles didn't waste a second before he was throwing the front door closed and working at the many locks and latches up and down the wooden doorframe. The metal clang of the deadbolt and the tinkling of the door chain as he slid it into the track rang out loudly in the otherwise quiet house.

Lydia was distrustfully eyeing the way Stiles secured the door, but she wasn't the only one focussed on his movements, the whole group watching in disbelief as he frantically locked them inside the house. When he finally spun around to face them, he faltered at the amount of attention focussed on him.

"Uh.. There's been a few break-ins in the area." Stiles supplied after a moment.

His eyes drifted to something behind Amber and he moved around her in a flash to grab the wooden entryway chair and prop the tall back of it firmly beneath the doorknob as an extra precaution.

"And a, um.. A murder." Amber added when Lydia's eyes moved to her in a silent question.

Jackson huffed a quiet snort of annoyance and Allison looked as if she were desperately trying not to laugh, but neither one of them interjected to add anything helpful.

"Yeah, it was bad." Stiles agreed immediately, the backs of his fingers brushing against Amber's with how close he was now standing beside her.

She slipped her palm into his and gave his slightly clammy hand a supportive squeeze while Allison nodded her head at Jackson in a gesture for him to do something.

Jackson sighed, "Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute."

Lydia huffed in annoyance but moved to follow him when he turned, "Seriously?" She muttered under her breath, "What is going on with everyone?"

Amber watched them go with a frown, making sure to shoot Jackson a sharp glare in warning that he merely rolled his eyes at as they moved to climb the staircase toward the upstairs bedrooms.

In their absence, Amber turned to drop her forehead against her boyfriend's shoulder with a shaky sigh. She felt his free hand come up to tangle softly into her hair and her heart continued to pound with anxiety despite the soothing scrape of his fingers against her scalp.

"I had Mrs. Morrell look at some pages from the bestiary." Allison told them after a moment.

Amber lifted her head, "Our French teacher slash guidance counselor knows Archaic Latin?" She asked in disbelief.

"Well, not exactly," Allison admitted, "But she knows a lot of languages and Latin is one of them."

"Latin isn't Archaic Latin." Amber pointed out.

"I know," Allison agreed, "But she did manage to translate one thing.. 'The kanima seeks a friend'."

"Seeks a friend?" Stiles repeated incredulously, "It killed two people. Amber and I were there for one of 'em.. It didn't exactly look like it was on a quest for friendship."

"How does this help Lydia?" Amber asked Allison quickly.

The other girl shook her head, "I don't know."

After a drawn out stretch of silence, Amber spoke again in a weak voice, "How long d'you guys think we have before Derek to figures out where we took her?"

"Not long." Allison responded quietly, "How are we supposed to protect her from a whole pack of werewolves without getting killed ourselves?" She asked, finally admitting her concern to the fellow humans.

"I'm not sure about Erica, Isaac, or Boyd.. But I know Derek wouldn't hurt me. I-I'm not afraid of him." Amber told them, turning around again but keeping herself firmly pressed against the warmth of Stiles' body with their fingers tangled together, "He doesn't want to hurt any of us.. But he's scared of Lydia-"

"Scared?" Stiles scoffed, "You think Derek Hale is scared?"

"Yes," Amber frowned, "He is. All he wants is to protect the people he cares about and- And I know he doesn't go about it in the best way but-"

"You can say that again." Stiles muttered.

Amber tightened her hand around his and continued, "He's afraid that the kanima is gonna kill someone he cares about. He's lost so much already, you guys. He's lost everyone." Her voice cracked with emotion and Allison blinked at her in surprise.

"He wants to kill Lydia," Allison reminded her firmly, "Amber.. You can't be on both sides when one is trying to kill the other."

"I'm not on both sides," She disagreed quickly, "I'm just saying I don't think that the three of us are in serious danger from Derek specifically, okay? It's the others we need to be worried about.. I'm not convinced that they have control yet over their emotions or their new wolfy instincts."

"Well, then, I think we might need to start worrying," Stiles announced from where he was peeking out of the curtain covering the window beside the front door, "Because they're here."

Amber cursed quietly as she leaned close to peer out of the window, finding the pack of werewolves crowded onto the sidewalk.

"One of you give me your phone so I can call Scott." Allison demanded quickly.

Amber pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it over easily, her eyes flicking back and forth between Derek and where Allison was bringing the phone up to her ear as it rang out.

"It's me." She said into the phone as soon as Scott picked up, "You need to get here. Right now." She told him quickly before ending the call.

Erica grinned as her eyes bounced between her packmates and where Amber and Stiles still were peeking out underneath the curtain.

"Oh, jeez." Stiles muttered quietly when Erica raised her eyebrows at them smugly, a silent but somehow obvious threat lurking in the purse of her lips.

Amber took a shaky breath and squeezed her boyfriend's hand once again before letting her gaze drift over to Allison. The other girl was fiddling with the phone in her hands, but it was no longer the touchscreen of Amber's phone that she was tapping her fingertips against.

"What are you doing?" Amber asked as Allison flicked through her own cell phone.

"I think.." Allison sighed anxiously and wiped at her sniffling nose with her shirtsleeve, "I think I have to call my dad."

Stiles turned toward her immediately, "But if he finds you here, you and Scott-"

"I know." Allison said quietly. She licked her lips and looked between them and the windows in distress, "But what are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay? They're here to kill Lydia."

"Your dad wanted to kill Lydia too." Amber was quick to remind her.

"Not anymore," Allison defended, "He- I think he'd help-"

"Are you sure about that?" Stiles questioned.

Allison frowned, seeming to seriously mull over the question.

"Jesus. If you honestly have to think about it, then you are not calling him." Amber told her firmly.

Allison sighed but nodded with a murmured agreement before dropping down to dig through her bag. She pulled out the small crossbow that had nearly killed Amber that afternoon and held it in a tight grip.

Stiles had pulled the curtain to the side again and was peering outside once more. When he looked back at the girls beside him, his gaze fell to the weapon in Allison's hands and his eyebrows rose as he frowned in thought.

"I got an idea," He told them suddenly in a hushed whisper, "Just shoot one of 'em."

"Stiles!" Amber hissed, releasing his hand to smack his arm with a look of disbelief.

"Are you serious?" Allison whispered back.

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it," Stiles whispered in quiet determination, looking between them, "Or at least give it a shot, right?"

"Okay." Allison agreed quickly in a barely detectable breath.

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight," Stiles continued quickly, "So if one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of 'em."

"You guys are serious?" Amber whispered in surprise.

"Which one?" Allison asked Stiles as she squinted out the window, the hand wrapped around the crossbow raising just a hair in anticipation.

"Uh.. Derek," Stiles said quickly, "Yeah, shoot him. Preferably in the head."

Amber punched her boyfriend in the arm with as much force as she could manage and he turned to her with a wide-eyed look of surprise and betrayal that matched her own.

"First of all, we are not doing that," She hissed, "And second, if Scott can catch an arrow flying through the air, then I guarantee that Derek can too."

"Okay," Stiles conceded quickly, raising his hands in submission and turning to Allison, "Uh.. Shoot one of the other three then."

"You mean two." Allison corrected quickly as she looked outside.

"I mean three." Stiles disagreed firmly.

Amber moved to look out the window again and her eyes raked over the group outside frantically, but Allison was right. One of them was missing.

"Where the hell is Isaac?" Stiles asked nervously as he looked out over her shoulder.

There was a sudden scuffle of feet across the wooden floor and Amber spun around to find that the boy in question had ripped the small crossbow from Allison's hands and tossed her roughly onto the floor of the living room.

Isaac growled lowly as he approached, shoving Stiles to the ground with one hand and throwing Amber into the kitchen with his other. Her back smacked painfully against the kitchen island and she fell to her hands and knees with a pained groan.

As she pushed herself up and moved to stand, Allison was already stepping into the kitchen to help her to her feet, supporting Amber with a firm grip on her arms.

"Go make sure Lydia is safe," Amber ordered as she got her feet underneath herself again, "Tell her that someone broke in and she needs to hide or- Or something. Just- Protect her."

"I will." Allison promised before dashing upstairs.

The wooden block on the countertop was one knife short as Amber clutched it in her fist with trembling fingers and moved back toward the main room. Just as she stepped through the doorway, Stiles was shoved into the adjoining wall with a loud thump. Isaac was quick to abandon Stiles as he noticed Amber's approach, turning his attention toward the threat who was wielding a weapon instead.

Stiles fell to his knees the moment he was released and Amber watched him suck in a pained breath as her eyes bounced between him and werewolf stalking toward her.

"C'mon Isaac, don't be a dick, okay?" She pleaded, raising the knife in her hands defensively, "We- We don't have to fight-"

"Not much of a fight, if I'm being honest." Isaac shrugged, ripping the knife from her fingers in an easy move and tossing it over her shoulder into the kitchen behind her.

At the sight of Erica rushing toward the staircase, Amber moved to follow after the blonde on immediate instinct but was yanked back by a hand in her hair. A yelp slipped past her lips at the painful tug, the side of her head bashed against the wood that framed the archway between rooms before she was released. She fell to her knees and gripped at the side of her head with a another groan, mildly relieved when she didn't feel the warm wetness that would indicate she was bleeding.

A loud thump sounded behind her and she heard Stiles release another pained noise. She gripped the table along the wall and pulled herself to her feet unsteadily. Amber turned around and, at the sight of Isaac's hand fisted in the front of her boyfriend's shirt, she rushed forward without a thought.

Isaac was pulling his right hand back to deliver a punch but Amber jumped up onto the taller boy's back and grabbed at his arm before he could make contact.

"Hair pulling, Isaac? Really?" She grunted, tightening the grip of her arms and legs around him further when the boy tried to throw her off of himself, "I'd expect that shit from Erica, but you?"

"'s a bitch move." Stiles agreed weakly, only to be thrown down onto the ground at the other side of the room.

With Stiles temporarily out of the fight, Isaac spun around to slam himself back against the wall in the living room, crushing Amber between the wall and himself. The girl groaned in pain but refused to release her hold, instead tangling her own fingers into the dark blonde curls on Isaac's head and tugging aggressively in retaliation.

Isaac let out a rumbling growl in response and pressed back against her that much more, "I'm trying not to hurt you guys-" He grunted through his fangs as he pushed the air out of Amber's lungs.

"Well you're doing-" She huffed breathlessly, "A terrible job-"

Stiles had crawled his way back across the room and he kicked his foot out suddenly into Isaac's ankles, sending the pair crashing to the ground as the werewolf's feet were knocked out from underneath him.

Another growl sounded out, but this time it hadn't come from the werewolf tangled up between Amber and Stiles. Instead, the threatening sound came from the back of the room where Scott was standing with bright, glowing eyes. In a flash, he was in front of them, slamming his fist into Isaac's face with enough force that the other boy slumped back against the floor unconscious.

"We totally had that," Stiles groaned quietly, "Y'know, just.. For the record-"

"Mhm. Didn't need your help at all," Amber agreed weakly as they climbed to their feet, "Thanks though."

Scott gave them both a weary look as he grabbed Isaac by the back of his jacket and dragged his body over to the front door, where he dropped him unceremoniously before heading upstairs without a word.

In the aftermath of the fight, Amber turned to face her boyfriend worriedly. Her hands moved over his chest and up his neck, fingers skimming softly over his cheeks as she checked him for any sort of visible injury. He brought his own hands to her waist but his grip was light in contrast to her desperate touch, as if he were worried he might cause her pain if he applied too much pressure.

"You.. Are such a badass, y'know that? I cannot believe you just pounced on Isaac like that," Stiles flicked his eyes between her own with a soft look, "But please, don't throw yourself into danger for me ever again.. Literally or figuratively."

"Yeah.. There is no way in hell I'm promising that." She scoffed quietly, rubbing the pad of her thumb lightly across his cheek.

Stiles shook his head, knowing it was useless to fight her on it, "You hurt?" He asked gently.

"I'll be fine." She promised, dragging her fingertips over the back of his head as she unsubtly checked for any bumps he might've received from being thrown around.

Scott and Allison's heavy footsteps began to descend the stairs and Amber pressed her forehead to Stiles' in a quick nudge before pulling away. Scott came into view with Erica thrown over his shoulder and he ripped the front door open before tossing her and Isaac outside and onto the front lawn.

The four teens stepped out onto the porch as Derek looked at his incapacitated Betas with a disappointed huff. There was a moment of silence in which Stiles tangled his fingers with Amber's while she reached out to rest a hand against Scott's back supportively.

Derek pursed his lips and slowly looked between the four of them, "I think I know why you both refused me," He announced as his eyes flicked between Scott and Amber, "You're not an omega, Scott. You're already an Alpha.. Of your own pack. And Amber, you're a part of that pack."

She blinked in surprise and her eyes gravitated toward Scott, who had stiffened beneath her hand at Derek's words.

"I thought you.. But, you said you couldn't be a part of a pack unless you were a werewolf." She questioned in confusion.

"I never said that," Derek disagreed, "I told you I didn't want you to be a part of my pack if you wanted to stay human." He corrected easily.

She felt the heavy weight of her friend's gazes fall to her after the admission, but her eyes remained focussed on Derek, unable to help the small pang of hurt that shot through her at his words.

"You know you can't beat me, Scott." Derek said after a moment, his eyes moving to the younger werewolf.

Scott swallowed and reluctantly pulled his gaze away from his best friend to look at Derek again, "I can hold you off until the cops get here-" He retorted.

No sooner had he spoken when the quiet trilling of sirens rose loud enough to be noticeable even to the humans of the group.

Derek's eyes narrowed, head tilting as he determined the distance of the emergency vehicles. His assessment was cut short at an all too familiar hiss from the roof.

The teens rushed down the porch steps to stand in the grass beside Derek and look up at the house, finding the kanima crawling across the roof. The dark, scaly creature turned its head to look at them, as if feeling the weight of their stares, releasing a threatening shriek in response to the attention.

Amber flinched at the shrill sound and Stiles' grip around her hand tightened as he protectively dragged her a small step backwards.

The creature looked the group over with its slitted yellow eyes for a moment before turning and scurrying away, tail flicking in the air behind it as it scaled the side of the house and disappeared from sight.

Stomping footsteps came from inside the house and they all turned their heads toward the open front door as the footfalls drew closer. Amber readied herself for Jackson to step outside with some sort of typically dick-ish remark, but it wasn't him who rushed out onto the front porch.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on!" Lydia demanded sharply as her eyes flicked around the group in wide-eyed confusion.

"Lydia." Amber breathed in surprise.

"The kanima.. Is Jackson." Scott whispered in sudden realization.

Amber's eyes dropped to the unmoving werewolves laying in the grass that Lydia had somehow not yet noticed and Amber nudged Scott in distress. He turned, following her gaze, eyes bouncing to Lydia and then back down again a few times.

"Um. Why don't I take you home, Lydia-" Allison said suddenly, "Scott, can you give us a ride back to the school to get my car?"

Lydia blinked, "But-"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure." Scott agreed quickly as Allison dragged him to stand in front of where Erica and Isaac were laying.

Amber released Stiles' hand to rush up onto the porch, snatching Lydia's backpack from the entryway inside the house and dragging the redhead down the porch steps quickly and toward the sidewalk.

"Amber-" Lydia huffed in annoyance when her heel caught in a groove in the pavement as she was dragged along.

"C'mon, Lyds. This has been really stressful and scary and we should all just go home and get some rest." She pleaded as they reached Scott's mom's car.

"Shouldn't we wait until the police get here and give them our statements about the break-in?" Lydia asked smartly.

"Stiles and I can handle it," She promised, "Get in."

Lydia frowned and shot her friend a glare before turning and climbing into the back of the car without another word.

Amber leaned down as she readied to close the door, "Text me when you get home safe?" She asked gently.

Lydia rolled her eyes and buckled her seatbelt, refusing to look at her friend as Scott and Allison also climbed into the car.

"Fine," Lydia said with a huff, "Whatever."

Amber accepted the weak promise and finally closed the car door. When she turned back to Stiles with wide eyes, she found that Derek and Boyd had already managed to disappear with Erica and Isaac's unconscious bodies. She was back up the sidewalk in a rush, coming to a stop in front of Stiles and looking around with wide eyes.

"Where the hell did they go?" She asked in disbelief.

"Y'know, it's funny. Derek didn't give me his itinerary for the evening before he left." Stiles shot back easily.

Amber narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend's sarcasm and had opened her mouth to speak when suddenly the sirens approaching them grew louder.

"Right! Time to go." Stiles urged quickly. He guided her down to the Jeep in a rush and sped off down the street in the opposite direction of the sirens before Amber had even managed to buckle her seatbelt.

"Where are we going?" She asked as she fought to remain calm.

"Right now? Nowhere. When we meet up with Scott again? We're gonna go find Jackson." Stiles said, eyes flicking over to her for a moment as he spoke.

"How exactly are we gonna do that?" She questioned.

"Our best friend is a werewolf," Stiles looked at her incredulously, "We're gonna track him down by scent or something and we're gonna get Whittemore's lizard ass."

She sighed, sliding across the seats to sit beside him and tipping her head onto his shoulder, suddenly desperate for the comfort his touch provided. Stiles moved his hand from the gear shift automatically to squeeze tightly over her thigh in reassurance.

"Great," She agreed weakly, "Sounds like a plan."

#pls pls don't be afraid to leave comments or questions or just a keysmash of emojis that i'll be forced to decipher #selenophiles #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles smut #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinksi smut #teen wolf fic #stiles stilinski fic #stilesfanfiction #2x05 #*#stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader

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sleepymccoy · 3 months

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I expect people don't really need to hear this, but I'm feeling it right this minute so imma talk about the chronology of how i write

I used to think to create a cohesive story you had to either write everything down in order, or fully plan out the story before starting so you didn't get lost. I am so glad I stopped doing either of these a long time ago

Now I just write what suits me, and if I go against an earlier scene I either rewrite that or scrap it. There's a lot of scrapping tbh

With fanfic I can kinda get away with it cos I know the characters well enough to be familiar with their emotional arc and jump around the beats pretty nimbly. It's different w original stories cos I don't know the characters so well yet. My first run at it I tried to plan AND write in order, which is the opposite of what I naturally do

Now I'm doing what I want. And I'm rediscovering how easy it is to write like this! And I'm meeting and learning who these guys are as I go, which informs everything else

My early scenes are pretty rough and dialogue/setting heavy. Not a lot of internal thoughts or opinionated observations. After I write a scene (not before!) I summarise what that scene has in it. Some are just "show what meal times are like" and I kinda know the characters are also meeting for the first time. But their dialogue is gonna change, I'm gonna write some throw away line in two months time that reshapes the whole first meeting and then I'll go back and rewrite the interactions to fit. Or put it in another scene. But I'll always have something based on this that shows what meal times are like. And that's great. Cos rn the scene is done, I've given it it's little green colour label on Scrivener, and I can move tf on. Later, I'll know these guys better and it'll be a better scene.

I know this is what a first draft is, but I always had in mind that the first draft is done when you finish the ending. But I'm on the third draft of some scenes and I'm not even at the second act. And those third drafts are my guiding rods for characterisation cos by this point they're supporting each other in this complex foreshadowing, emotional beat, cross referential ways that make the whole thing cohesive. The other scenes, well, they're place holders to keep me moving forwards. Even some of the really hot ones.

Like, the scene where they fuck in the sapling room is sexy, but ultimately is probably gonna change cos it's such a pivotal moment and I don't know how it'll reverberate yet. Whereas the scene where they spontaneously decide to try edging? That's had a few rewrites and has some cool complex emotions and foreshadowing going on, as well as toe dipping into mutual dependency, and I like it very much now. It's doing what I want and any changes from here on should be pretty small.

I can particularly remember laying in bed two weeks after writing the edging scene and going 😶 he's being too open about being upset about the day, there's no way he'd discuss that yet. And disappointedly decided to remove all of the motivating force and put that sex somewhere else and face rewriting the whole emotional beat. But I reread it and was like... Hang on... The motivation can stay as long as he lies... And then the pov character can establish some of his thick headedness in not noticing... And it's not exactly heathy... Yum

But that needed two weeks of noodling for me to realise. And now it's foreshadowing the act three plot twist! That I haven't written yet cos I have too many ideas for how to do the reveal and they're all juicy

Anyway, I'm loving being free to rewrite and change stuff constantly. And like, also gives me the freedom to drag and drop things into different points in the chronology if I wanna try it out with relatively little editing cos so far the scenes are mostly surface level.

It's good. I'm good. It's been like seven weeks of free form writing when I feel like it and it's at like 25k without breaking a sweat so. I'm happy ❤️❤️

#wriblr #this is so long i swear in more succint when i write fiction lol

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brain-deadx0 · 2 years

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Virgil's Origin

Summary: How Patton ended up with Virgil in New Big Brother

Warnings: child abandonment, hypothermia, hospitals, let me know

Note: Would've finished this a while ago but unfortunately the original got wiped from existence somehow and I didn't have the energy to rewrite it after that. But now I do! So ta-da! Child endangerment!

Ao3

Patton smiled as he drank the last bit of hot chocolate from the bottom of the cup.

As the snowflakes falling around him grew bigger and the wind blew colder he was, admittedly, beginning to regret walking all the way to the café for a cup, but they had the best hot cocoa.

He snuggled deeper into his coat as he began to look for a garbage on the walk back to his apartment. He thought about calling Janus when he got home, he had only moved back out of his older brother's house recently and Janus was… struggling. Not that he wanted anyone to know.

Another biting gust of wind and snow coated glasses caused Patton to stop for a brief moment.

He quickly cleared the snow away and happened to catch sight of a dumpster in the alley next to him. Patton smiled at the small bit of luck before walking over.

Patton lifted the lid to toss his empty cup in, but as he went to close it something caught his eye.

Amongst the black bags was what looked to be a balled up old towel. He wouldn't have thought much of it had he not seen the small fingers poking out of the folds.

Patton felt a new surge of cold as the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. He braced himself for the worst as he moved some of the towel to reveal the baby's face. He cried as he carefully pulled the bundle out of the dumpster. What was one supposed to do in this situation? He- he should call the police right?

Just as he was about to reach for his phone the bundle shifted ever so slightly.

A spark of hope and fear rushed through him as he quickly pulled off his glove and placed a finger by the baby's nose. By some miracle he felt a small whisper of breath against it.

Without thinking Patton pulled the baby closer and ran into the street.

He nearly cried harder when a car pulled over almost immediately at his frantic waving.

"Everything alright?" The person asked after partially rolling down their window.

"Please I need to get to the hospital!" Patton blurted, "I found a baby in the dumpster and I think they're dying."

The person quickly unlocked the doors and told Patton to get in.

As they sped to the hospital, Patton unzipped his thick coat and carefully placed the bundle inside and held it close.

The minutes it took to get to the hospital felt like hours as Patton's heart pounded in his ears. He barely waited for the car to stop in front of the hospital before jumping out and rushing inside.

Within seconds of telling the nurse what was going on the baby was taken away and rushed deeper into the hospital leaving Patton standing alone in the middle of the lobby.

It wasn't long however before the receptionist came over and asked him if he'd be willing to fill out some paperwork before the police came.

A few minutes later the person who had driven him walked in and asked about what happened. They apologized for not being able to stay with him but asked to exchange numbers so they could find out what happened.

When he sat down to wait for news he decided he should probably call his brother.

"Hello?"

"Janus?"

"Patton, what's wrong?" Janus asked at the clear distress in his voice.

"I'm at the hospital."

"Are you alright, what happened?" Janus asked quickly as he moved around on the other end of the phone.

"I'm alright I'm not hurt I promise." Patton told him, "I really wanted some hot chocolate but I didn't want to make it so I went to that nice café down the road but-but on the way back," Patton sniffled as he remembered the baby's freezing skin when he held it.

"I'm on my way," Janus said from the other end, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Ok," Patton told him before looking up at the door, "I gotta go now though the police are here."

He vaguely registered Janus’s concerned voice as he hung up the phone.

…

Janus did his best to stay calm as he carefully made his way to the hospital. Patton was ok. He said so himself. Janus was the only one in the car right now and the boys were safe at the neighbors house. Today would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

…

"Patton!" A very relieved voice called.

Patton looked over to see Janus rushing through the door, "Janus?" He glanced at the clock and confirmed it hadn't been long since he'd called, "Did you drive here?! Are you ok?"

"Yes well I didn't have much choice considering my little brother called saying he was at the hospital and the police were coming." Janus snapped.

"Sorry, it's just…"

Janus took a deep breath, "I know, I'm sorry, it's… I'm just still on edge from the drive. Now will you please tell me what's going on?"

"Mr. Sanders." A nurse called.

"Yes?" Patton asked quickly.

"The baby's stable now. Would you like to see him?"

"Yes," he said with a relieved sigh, "Please."

As they followed the nurse through the halls Patton explained what happened.

"- I went to throw my cup away and he was just there." He told Janus, "I thought for sure it was too late, but then he moved a bit and…"

Janus put a comforting hand on his shoulder and Patton leaned into it.

"He's in the incubator right now to be safe but you're welcome to reach in if you like." The nurse told them.

Patton felt tears spring to his eyes again as he looked at the small body laying in the box. He was so tiny.

Patton barely breathed as he carefully opened the small window and stuck his hand inside. For the first time since finishing his cocoa a warm feeling spread in his chest when the baby's tiny fingers wrapped tightly around his own.

"Hi, baby." He whispered.

As if in response he felt the small hand squeeze his finger slightly.

Janus watched his brother stare at the bundle as if breathing too hard would cause them to shatter, he could guess what would happen next.

"Janus." Patton practically breathed.

Janus looked between Patton and the infant before sighing, "I'm not a family lawyer, Pat."

"I know-"

"But," Janus held up a finger, "I will see what I can do."

Patton smiled and probably the only thing keeping him from tackling him right then and there was the little hand attached to his.

Janus smiled and put a hand on Patton's shoulder. He was still a bit angry about the uninformative phone call, but that could wait.

Later he would make some calls and see if one of his friends in social services could help. But for now he just wanted to sit with his brother.

He supposed he was an uncle now.

#brain dead writes #virgils origin #new big brother #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides fan fic

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arandomperson5647 · 1 year

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Me attempting to fix Edward strikes out

Soooo, this is my first ever post (not including the anniversary thing).

I've considered posting this here but I never officially decided until now. Y'all know the infamous "Edward Strikes Out" episode? Well, about 2 years ago I did a small rewrite of it. Back in the day, for some reason, I used to write in a transcript form, so that's why it looks like this. I've also considered rewriting it in a "novel" style (idk what it's called), but I haven't done it (yet??). I actually posted this on the Thomas wiki when I first wrote it so it might be familiar or smth, idk. I'm gonna tweak it a bit but it's mostly the same as the original.

*One day, Edward was going to pick up some pipes at Brendam Docks, but then he noticed Thomas admiring a new breakdown train. James and Gordon were there too.*

Edward: Who’s that?

Thomas: That’s the new breakdown train. He looks very strong, strong enough to lift you up Gordon!

Gordon: *scoffs* Really? He looks useless to me.

Edward: How come?

Gorden: Can’t you see? He doesn’t have an engine. He can’t go anywhere.

Edward: So? That doesn’t mean anything.

Gordon: It means an engine would have to waste time collecting him.

Thomas: And how is that any different to the other breakdown train?

Gordon: Well, Umm...

Thomas: Haha, looks like I got you there. *then he puffs away*

Gordon: Still, he’ll just get in the way. There's no point in two breakdown trains. Besides, Judy and Jerome are two cranes while this guy is only one. He's probably not as strong.

James: I agree with Gordon, there’s no way he can be really useful.

*Edward then chuffs to the breakdown train to introduce himself.*

Edward: Hello, you’re the new breakdown train, right?

Rocky: *sadly* Yes, I am.

Edward: Is something wrong?

Rocky: I over heard what those two engines said, they don’t think I’ll be really useful.

Edward: Don’t listen to them, they’ll change their mind once they see you in action.

Rocky: Thanks, I’m Rocky.

Edward: And I’m Edward, nice to meet you. I’d better get going, I don’t want to be late.

*Edward was delivering his pipes, but couldn’t stop thinking about Rocky.*

Edward: *to himself* I’m sure Rocky is very useful, he’s probably just as useful as the other breakdown train.

*Edward was so busy thinking about Rocky, that he almost passed a red signal!*

Edward: Oh no! *Puts his brakes on.*

*Edward braked so hard, it caused his pipes to fall all over the track.*

*Then James arrived.*

James: What happened here?

Edward: I braked too hard and my pipes fell onto the track. We should get Rocky.

James: We can’t get Rocky, he’ll just get in the way, we should get Harvey.

Edward: Are you sure?

James: I’m 100% sure.

*James’ crew calls for Harvey. A few minutes later, Harvey arrived.*

Harvey: Wow, that’s a lot of pipes, it will take me a long time to get these back on the truck.

James: Just do what you have to do.

*A few minutes later, Thomas shows up behind James.*

Thomas: What’s going on?

Edward: Harvey’s getting the pipes back onto my train.

Thomas: Wouldn’t it be faster if we used Rocky?

James: We’ve got everything under control, you just need to be patient.

Edward: What if we use the breakdown train?

Thomas: We can't, I saw Percy on the way over here and he's using them.

*Just then, they heard a whistle.*

Thomas: *gasp* That’s Gordon’s whistle!

*Gordon was thundering down the line. Everyone was yelling “stop!!” But it was too late. Gordon had crashed into the pipes.*

Harvey: Oh dear, I’m not strong enough to lift up Gordon.

James: But weren’t you able to lift up Percy?

Harvey: Yes, but he was a tank engine, not a big tender engine.

Edward: That’s it, I’m getting Rocky, he’ll be strong enough to lift Gordon onto the tracks and be able to put the pipes back even faster.

*Edward goes to the docks to get Rocky*

Edward: Come Rocky! It’s an emergency! Gordon has come off the rails!

Rocky: I'm ready. GO GET 'EM, EDWARD!

*Edward couples up to Rocky and heads to the accident. When he got there, Rocky went right to work. Everyone was amazed on how strong he was, even James and Gordon were impressed. Soon, Rocky had gotten all of the pipes back into the train.*

Gordon: Thanks Rocky, I’m sorry I thought you wouldn’t be really useful.

James: Me too, you’re really strong and you got those pipes up really quickly.

Rocky: Thanks guys, and it’s okay, I’m just glad to be really useful.

#ttte edward #ttte gordon #ttte #ttte thomas #ttte rocky #yes i had to include the “go get 'em Edward" thing/meme it's a classic

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where-the-kissing-never-stops · 1 year

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The shifting Earth beneath us

Here is a piece that I created for the 15th Merlin anniversary!

It is a follow on from In my weariness I still hear you singing in my mind which was written many years ago now and could do with a rewrite 😅 and for those of you on ao3 here is The shifting Earth beneath us on ao3. Hope you enjoy 😊

Gwaine awoke with a start. This was the fourth time he had woken up. Gwaine was a fool to think that he would get any semblance of sleep after what he’d been through, waking many times dripping in sweat after hardly any sleep at all. He would be the last to admit it, but the night terrors were so bad this time, that his face was wet with tears. The light had finally faded so this time he had woken up to darkness, which made recovering from the awful dream harder.

He decided there wasn’t much point trying to sleep again just yet. The hunger was still present, so he wiped his face with his bedclothes and sat up slowly. He reached over and took a sip of the stale water left in the cup from earlier, then a slice of bread. He took small bites, remembering what Leon said about eating slowly. Gwaine was glad he did, because that one slice of bread filled his stomach. He couldn’t eat anything else, even if his stomach hurt and his body ached. His mind was still plagued with visions and memories of what he went through.

Gwaine swung his legs over the side of his bed, and he tried standing. It took a few attempts, but he managed it and he wobbled over to the window. He looked over the courtyard, which was lit up in the moonlight. How long had it been since he last saw that view? At least a week, probably longer. Gwaine vowed he would never take this sight for granted, as he never know when it would be the last time he saw it.

The clothes Gwaine was wearing were still damp from sweating from his dreams, so he took off his tunic and trousers gently, dropping them in a heap at the end of his bed. He took a clean outfit from his wardrobe and put them on. The effort it took was a lot, and he sat on the end of his bed afterwards. The blood pounded in his ears. Gwaine took deep breaths, holding his head in his hands and resting his elbows on his legs. In. Out. In. Out.

Gwaine’s mind flickered to a happier memory from the night before. Percival had kissed him. Gwaine wasn’t sure if it was a spur of the moment thing, more out of relief than anything more, but it had been something that helped Gwaine fall asleep, initially at least. Percival had been gentle and kind and respectful of what Gwaine had been through. It felt right. It was what Gwaine needed.

How Gwaine longed for some company again.

He leaned over at took another cracker from the plate. It was a little chewy, but beggars can’t be choosers, and he ate it, slowly again, with water. He took the last one. He already felt a little stronger. He waited a few minutes after eating to make sure he hadn’t eaten too much, then stood up, put his boots on and headed for the door. Gwaine felt more stable on his feet. Maybe this was a sign.

Gwaine didn’t really know where he was going, he just knew he didn’t want to be in his room when he could walk around. He didn’t want to stare at a ceiling unable to sleep. He didn’t want to be kept somewhere. Not again.

He enjoyed walking the corridors at night. The only light was from the torches hanging from the walls, and when he reached the outdoor parts of the citadel, the moon bathed him in its light. Gwaine stopped for a moment, tilted his head towards the moon and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply. This was something he had really missed.

It was summer, and the air was still quite warm, despite there being no cloud cover. Gwaine decided he would head to the field near the keep, which overlooked the lower town. It would let him see the stars clearly, and let him be rid of the troubles of the last week for a few moments, at least.

As Gwaine rounded the corner, it revealed the square of grass, and a figure was leaning over the wall at the end. Gwaine froze, his heart raced. The irrational part of his brain was in overdrive, convinced it was one of Morgana’s men waiting for him, to finish him off, but then he shook his head, and steadied himself, taking deep breaths whilst he closed his eyes. He leaned back against the wall whilst he collected himself. He couldn’t let this stop him getting the freedom he so desperately craved.

Come on, let’s go, Gwaine thought to himself, and he headed outside.

In this low light, he couldn’t tell who it was leaning over the wall, but it was someone tall. Someone who had huge arms and short hair. Someone who heard Gwaine approach and turned to see who was joining him.

Percival.

Gwaine’s breath caught in his throat, but he kept moving towards Percival. The other knight kept facing him, and leaned back against the edge of the wall as Gwaine approached.

The two knights were face to face.

“Didn’t think I’d see you at this time. Thought you’d be out for the count.” Percival smiled at Gwaine.

“Turns out my mind won’t let my body rest,” Gwaine said, quietly, and he stood next to Percival, leaning over the wall and he looked out over the lower town. He heard Percival turn around to join him.

Gwaine watched a couple stumble out of The Rising Sun, hand in hand and they stumbled down the road together. A patrol of guards passed them, and the couple bowed a little comically, almost falling over. The guards laughed, and continued on their duty. Both groups disappeared from view.

“Can’t wait for another night back in there, when this is all over, and we have all recovered.” Gwaine knew alcohol really wouldn’t help him in his present state, but he was craving the happier times and the friendly atmosphere over the ale.

“Gwaine,” Percival began, still looking over Camelot, “You went through something awful. If ever you need someone to talk to-”

“Thank you, Percival,” Gwaine began, cutting the knight off, “but this is something I just need to work through. It will get easier.” Especially with a good ale, Gwaine added mentally.

“You are incredibly strong to even say that,” Percival spoke softly, sincerely. “If you change your mind…” Gwaine nodded at him. The mutual respect was so solid.

They stood in silence before Gwaine moved, sitting down, then lying on the grass. He interlinked his knuckles and lay them atop his stomach.

“Gwaine?” Percival frowned at him.

“The stars are so beautiful,” he said with a small smile on his lips.

Percival went and joined him, lying beside him. “Yes, they are.”

They lay for a few moments in quiet reverence for the moment. The only sound they heard were occasional footsteps in the castle passing nearby, or the wind blowing slightly through the trees.

Percival spoke up and pointed to the sky. “Can you see that shape in the sky? It looks a bit like a huge spoon.” Gwaine followed Percival’s finger. It took a few moments, but he saw what Percival was referring to, and nodded. “Take the two stars on the right side, they point up to a fainter star, can you see?” Again, a few moments after Percival spoke, Gwaine nodded again. “That star doesn’t move ever. The other stars move around it. It always points north,” and with that, Percival lowered his hand slightly, pointing north. “So if you’re ever lost on a clear night, this star will help you find your way.”

Gwaine turned to look at Percival. “How did you learn that?”

Percival lowered his hand and turned to return Gwaine’s gaze. “My mother taught me that when I was younger. She taught me a great deal.” His gaze became sad, and Gwaine noted something.

“You’ve never spoken of your mother before.”

Percival turned to look back at the sky. “It’s not the easiest thing to talk about.”

Gwaine waited in silence, not pushing Percival to continue.

“Cenred killed my family.”

Another pause. Percival continued.

“It wasn’t long before I met Lancelot. Cenred ransacked my village. He razed it to the ground and my family along with it.”

Gwaine unlaced his fingers. “I’m sorry.” He reached down and took Percival’s hand in his, interlocking their fingers.

“I was out hunting with a few other men in the village. When we returned, Cenred and his men were long gone. Our house was destroyed, with my parents and my sister were inside. It took so long to find them in the wreckage that was our home.” Percival sniffed softly. Gwaine didn’t look, giving the man some privacy, but he rubbed Percival’s knuckles with his thumb as the other knight wiped his face with his other hand.

Percival continued. “Our village lost everyone apart from those of us who went hunting. After the pyres burned out and we drank ourselves sick, we went our separate ways.” A brief pause, and Percival gently squeezed Gwaine’s hand. “I moved around, became the strong man that people wanted, and that’s how I met Lancelot. He saw me pulling a cart out of the mud and came to help, before he realised I didn’t need it.” He smiled softly at the memory. “With him, it was the first time I felt true happiness since my family died.”

Percival was pensive. He didn’t let go of Gwaine’s hand.

The pair lay there for a while, the warm summer night keeping any chill away.

Gwaine was curious. “Were the two of you ever…?”

Percival snorted softly. “No, it was never like that. Lancelot brought joy back into my life, and he meant the world to me.” Percival squeezed Gwaine’s hand again, and Gwaine squeezed back. “I miss him.”

“So do I.” Gwaine let go of Percival’s hand in favour of turning on his side to look at his friend. “Thank you for telling me this.”

Percival turned to look at him. Gwaine wished they had lay down closer together, but a small nod from the taller knight was all he received. They both returned to look at the stars. Gwaine noticed that the longer he looked for, the more stars seemed to appear. The spoon and the guiding star were beginning to disappear into a cluster of stars in the sky, hardly intelligible as a pattern anymore.

Gwaine heard Percival yawn. “You should go to bed. There will be a lot of rebuilding work to do tomorrow.”

Percival sighed. “I’d rather stay here.” He left the sentence hanging and Gwaine didn’t fill the space.

Silence enveloped them. Gwaine slowly shifted, moved across the grass to be lying side by side next to the taller knight. As much as he too needed sleep, he didn’t want this moment to end. He felt very peaceful and very safe, and that was something he craved to last as long as it could. He struck up another conversation.

“What happened after you left Camelot?”

He heard a deep exhale beside him. Gwaine couldn’t recall a time he had heard Percival speak so much. When it was the group of them, Percival was mostly quiet, only saying a few words mostly, even quiet by the campfire. This was a conversation Gwaine would not take for granted. Percival cleared his throat before he began his tale.

“We found Elyan in the woods, which was a help as Arthur was slowing us down. Merlin heard the horses coming after us and we ran. We were thrown off our feet by magic, I can only guess it was Morgana. When I came round, the others were gone. I thought they had been captured, and knew there was nothing I could do. I had failed to protect my King.” Percival puffed out his cheeks.

“When I woke up, it was dark and everyone else had gone. I thought Arthur and Merlin were still with Elyan, but clearly they weren’t, so I went through the forest alone. It wasn’t great, I came across some bandits but steered clear, my head was mashed after a day alone and only my memories for company.” He exhaled. Gwaine waited. “It was dark before I came across someone. It was Rosie and her little girl. I couldn’t remember the child’s name but I rescued her from the dorocha and ever since I’ve seen Rosie out and about and she would always talk to me. She is lovely.”

“I remember her. I think her daughter’s name is Lily,” Gwaine offered.

“Matches her mother’s,” Percival said, a smile on his lips. He continued, “She brought me back to the camp where I saw Leon. The warmth it filled me with, Gwaine, I can’t express it. Seeing someone I knew so well filled me with so much relief. I told him what had happened so far, and Leon showed me their makeshift camp. It felt strangely familiar, living in such close quarters. It reminded me of home, of my family.” A pause, and Gwaine made shapes with the stars as he waited for Percival to finish. Gwaine wouldn’t rush his friend.

“We were planning on a way to find the King, but with so few soldiers and weapons we felt useless. It was a few days on when Leon woke me, before sunrise. He’d seen Merlin, and asked for us to all meet him in a clearing just down a small channel from the camp. And we did.” Percival turned towards Gwaine and their eyes met. “There was a sword in the stone, Gwaine. Did you ever hear about the legend?” Gwaine shook his head. “It was just as you would expect. You hear about a sword lodged in a stone, no one knows how it got there, no one can pull it out, and then Arthur stepped up. He tried, you could see him shaking with effort. Merlin spoke to him in a way I have never heard him speak. He spoke to Arthur like he knew every part of him, and he spoke to him as if the rest of us weren’t there. It felt like I was watching a moment that should have been in private.” Percival cleared his throat and looked away.

Gwaine processed what Percival told him. Merlin must have been with Arthur this whole time.

“And Arthur just, pulled the sword out of the stone.”

Gwaine made a surprised sound and looked at Percival.

“Gwaine, I wish you were there to see it. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.” Gwaine could hear the emotion in the other knight’s voice. “Arthur is the true King of Camelot and I would ride into the mouth of Hell for him.”

In the distance, the sky was lightening with the approaching dawn, and Percival’s face was slightly silhouetted against the dark blue. Gwaine reached over to put a finger underneath Percival’s chin. He turned Percival’s face towards his and leaned in. “So would I.” Gwaine kissed Percival gently. He tasted the tears Percival shed for his family. He tasted the devotion for their King. He tasted the raw emotion and belief that finally, everything was okay again. They broke apart. Gwaine wiped the tear that had spilled onto Percival’s cheek.

“And all the while, you’ve been suffering here.”

Gwaine laughed softly and brushed his thumb over Percival’s cheek. “Ah, don’t think about that. You’ve painted quite a picture of what I’ve missed, I almost forgot I wasn’t there.” He smiled at Percival. He dropped his hand and again reached for Percival’s, hoping the urgency wasn’t apparent in his grasp. “It sounds almost magical.”

“It may well have been. After all, Arthur pulled a sword from solid rock. There must be something to do with magic involved.”

“It proves he is our King. Maybe it’s in his blood, or something.”

Percival sat up with a start and looked down at Gwaine. “You think Arthur has magic?”

Gwaine sat up slowly, propping himself up on his elbows before sating, “Well, he could have, but he clearly doesn’t know about it.”

The pair laughed together. It felt good, like the world was returning to rights.

“And after that, we made a plan to enter Camelot and fight Morgana and Helios, which clearly worked, and we found you.” Percival finished his story in a less than dramatic style, which Gwaine was grateful for.

The sun was rising and he was tired. The first light of the sun hit the castle walls and the golden rays made everything look even more majestic, including Percival. Gwaine leaned forward, rested on his knees and cupped Percival’s face in his hands. “Thank you for saving me.” He leaned down and kissed Percival more deeply than before, and Percival matched it. He turned around and pulled Gwaine closer, his hands shaping and moulding Gwaine’s body into his. Gwaine’s legs straddled Percival as they drank each other in.

The distant sound of voices pulled them apart, but Gwaine rested his forehead against Percival’s.

“I would ride into the mouth of Hell for you, too,” Gwaine spoke into Percival’s mouth.

“And I you,” Percival whispered in response.

They stayed there for a few moments before Gwaine let go and stood up, a little unsteady as the lack of food and lack of sleep caught up with him. Percival did the same, and placed a hand on Gwaine’s back to steady him.

“Let’s get you inside.”

Gwaine looked at Percival. In the glowing golden light, he looked radiant. Not even a yawn could mar the beauty of Percival.

“Come to bed with me?”

Percival looked down, a knowing smile on his expression and shook his head.

“For sleeping only, I need it as much as you do,” Gwaine started, “I might sleep better when I know someone is keeping me safe.” Gwaine cocked his head. “And not just anyone.” He smiled.

Percival quickly lost whatever argument he was going to give Gwaine, and nodded.

“I’m so glad to have you, Gwaine.”

Gwaine’s breath caught in his throat. This is what he had wanted for so long, someone wanting him, someone being happy to know him. Tears started to well up in his eyes, but he blinked them back. In return, he offered Percival a smile and squeezed his hand.

“Let’s get some sleep.”

#perwaine #sir gwaine #sir percival #gwaine #merlin #bbc merlin #hurt/comfort #my works #the sword in the stone #the sword in the stone part 2 #percival's backstory #merlin 15th anniversary #these knights honestly #i just want them to be happy together #op #merlin 15 #pergwaine

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ficcrimes · 2 years

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The B-Side

Fandom: The Simpsons

Characters: Bart Simpson, Lisa Simpson, Milhouse Van Houten

Ship: Milhouse/Bart; implied past, unrequited Milhouse/Lisa

A/N: This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote literally over a decade ago.

Summary: Navigating a crush when you're a teenager is hard enough, but it's even harder when you're Milhouse and you're crushing on Bart Simpson.

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“I’m sorry, what?”

Lisa is trying her best not to laugh, but Milhouse can see the corners of her lips twitching, and can hear the giggles being stifled beneath the clearing of her throat. He can’t blame her, really; he’s already laughed at himself plenty.

“You’re joking, right?” she asks, and it’s just one more attempt to try and keep herself composed.

Milhouse’s smile is shy and awkward as he shakes his head. “Nu uh.”

“Oh, God,” Lisa snorts and then snickers. “You’re serious!”

Milhouse doesn’t mind her laughter and even joins her, chuckling at himself, the situation, and the confession now lingering between them. It’s definitely too late to take it back, but Milhouse is fairly certain that even if he could, he wouldn’t.

Lisa seems to recover quickly enough from her bout of giggles, and suddenly she’s staring at Milhouse with a mix of fascination and horror.

“Oh, God,” she gasps, and then the rest of her sentence dwindles into a groan. “You’re serious.”

“It’s not that bad, is it?” he asks, idly wringing the hem of his shirt between his hands. “It - it could be worse!”

Lisa snorts again. “You could do better.”

Milhouse smiles half-heartedly at her. Up until recently, she had been the object of his affection, the one he thought he wanted more than anything else in the entire world. He’s not entirely sure when his attention started to drift away from her and to Bart, but considering Lisa never has and probably never will reciprocate his feelings, maybe it’s better this way.

“Maybe,” he says with a shrug.

He never stood a chance with Lisa. With Bart, on the other hand…

The odds aren’t great, but still better somehow.

“Are you gonna tell him?” Lisa asks, brow furrowing. “Because I would completely understand if you didn’t want to.”

“I dunno,” he says and shrugs, releasing the hem of his shirt. “That’s why I came to you. Do you think I should?”

Lisa rubs at the back of her neck, taking in the sight of him as they sit across from each other, wide inches and overgrown park grass between them. Milhouse has been one of the few relatively positive constants in her brother’s life, but she still struggles to confidently encourage any potential pursuit.

“I’d say it can’t hurt, but…” It could, and it probably will in the long run. Still, Milhouse looks pathetically optimistic, and Lisa’s never enjoyed hurting his feelings.

She sighs, smiling weakly back at him.

“Go for it.”

----

Unlike his father’s, Bart’s hands have always been quick and clever. Bart’s skilled fingers move across the buttons of the game controller with ease and determined force, and Milhouse has been staring for the last two minutes. His eyes wander from Bart’s hands and up to his face, and he can’t help but admire the stubborn crease of his brow and the tight clench of his jaw.

Dread fills Milhouse’s stomach when Bart suddenly glances his way, smirking.

“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer, y’know,” he says, and then his attention is right back on the game again.

Caught, Milhouse ducks away, staring down at his own fidgeting hands. How long had Bart known he had been staring? Does he know why? Bart has a tendency to be surprisingly observant when he wants to be, and knowing that makes Milhouse’s guts twist into knots.

“Hey, man,” Bart says, and he’s looking at Milhouse again. “Are you okay? You’re not looking so hot.”

“Yeah,” Milhouse says, but there’s not a whole lot of truth to be found in that answer.

It had been decided that today would be the day he told Bart how he felt, but acting upon that decision was proving to be much harder than making it. His palms itch and his throat is dry and tight. He’s pretty sure he’s beginning to sweat.

The uneasy look Bart’s giving him is completely warranted.

“Look, if you’re gonna puke or something, just don’t do it on the carpet. Mom’ll have a canary.”

Milhouse tries to laugh, but even he knows how forced and fake it sounds. After he clears his throat, he draws in a deep breath and digs deep for whatever fragments of courage he can find. It’s not much, but it feels like enough.

“Bart?”

“Yeah?” He’s not looking at Milhouse now, eyes trained on the television and the game he’s playing. Something happens in-game and he curses under his breath, and it’s as though he hadn’t even been worried a moment ago. It’s honestly a little bit of a relief.

“We’re best friends, right?” A flush is already creeping up the back of his neck. He feels like he’s ten again and not sixteen.

“What kinda dumb question is that?” Bart replies while leaning over to one side, controller angled in his hands as though that might encourage his character to do his bidding in a more timely manner.

It’s not the answer Milhouse wanted, but it is the one he partially expected. He takes it as a yes, of course.

“So… We can tell each other anything, right?”

“Uh huh,” he mumbles. “Why?”

“I gotta tell you something,” Milhouse says quickly, and it feels as though he’s reached that point of no return. There’s no turning back now, no matter how desperately he wants to make something up on the spot, or even just get up and leave.

“Fire away.”

“Well, I… Uh…”

Milhouse hesitates, gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

Bart must assume the game is the cause of Milhouse’s silence. With a bit of a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Bart puts the game on pause and turns to face Milhouse completely and properly. Wedged into the corner of the couch, he gestures vaguely between them. “There. Now I’m all yours. So let’s hear it.”

Milhouse can feel the heat creeping up from his neck and to the bridge of his nose, and he can only hope Bart doesn’t notice.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbles, taking a breath. This had been so much easier in his mind, and when he practiced with Lisa. “It’s just that… I have this crush—”

Bart snorts. “Oh, man. Are you still hung up on my sister?”

“No!” Milhouse is quick to defend himself, brow furrowed.

“Uh huh,” Bart laughs now, grinning. “Sure.”

“Bart,” Milhouse says, trying to sound somewhat stern despite the way his heart is hammering away inside his chest. “I’m serious. It’s not Lisa.”

That seems to sober him up just enough to make him stop laughing, but the grin is still present. “Ooh, it’s not, eh? Is it Sherri? Terri? Oh my God, it’s not a teacher, is it? Mrs. —”

“No!” It comes out harsher and a little louder than he intends, but he’s thankful it’s effective and Bart quiets down in response. Even if that means he’s now saddled with the rest of his confession.

“It’s… Not a girl.”

His heart is about to pound its way right through his ribcage and fall into Bart’s lap, like some sort of off-beat Itchy and Scratchy cartoon.

There’s a beat of silence, and Milhouse feels weighed down and frozen to the couch by Bart’s intense stare. It’s all he can do to fidget in place and clear his throat.

“Okay, so who’s the lucky guy then?”

Whatever relief comes with Bart’s passive acceptance is almost immediately crushed by the understanding of his question.

“It’s, uh…”

The words are caught in Milhouse’s throat, and no amount of fish-mouthing seems to work them loose. He drops his gaze down to his hands again, shrugging one shoulder before peeking back up at Bart.

And then Bart laughs, and it sends shivers right down Milhouse’s stiff spine.

“No way,” he says with another grin, pushing himself up out of the corner of the couch. “Me?”

Milhouse says nothing, still unable to find his voice. He manages a weak nod before Bart brings himself closer, ducking down to try and get a better look at his best friend’s flushed face.

“I really thought you had better taste than this,” he says, and there’s no warning before one hand takes a fistful of Milhouse’s shirt. He pulls him in quickly, and before Milhouse even has time to think about it, Bart’s lips are on his. He doesn’t kiss him back, but he does reach for Bart’s wrist and he squeezes a little tighter than he really means to.

When Bart pulls away, he winks.

“What…?” To say that Milhouse is left a little dazed is putting it lightly, and he doesn’t let go of Bart’s wrist even as that hand falls away from his chest. “Why’d you…?”

“Hey,” Bart shrugs, wriggling his wrist free. His hand falls on Milhouse’s knee instead, and he gently squeezes.

“I’ll try anything once. Twice, if I like it.”

#the simpsons #bart simpson #lisa simpson #milhouse van houten #fanfic

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acciofanfics · 2 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet (NSFW)

(Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: (Y/N) wants to be a professor at Hogwarts. Dumbledore offers her a chance to intern and figure out what she wants to do… hopefully she’ll make it through the year.

Pairing: Professor Remus Lupin x FemReader

Warnings: Smut, poor writing and potential OOCness, and probably language? Unprotected sex (as always wrap it before you tap it) 8k+ words, so buckle up

A/N: This is kind of a rewrite of the series, some stayed the same, a good bit was changed for the better I hope and I added a conclusion!

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(Y/N) had a feeling that this new endeavor would be hard, and really, she didn’t mind a challenge. But this was kind of ridiculous… She’d expressed desire to work at Hogwarts in her future, and Dumbledore had made it a personal mission to find a spot for her (on a trial basis for now). She had been an excellent student in the prior seven years, and she definitely had the marks to do whatever she wanted. Dumbledore thought it’d be best to have her on for a year, helping in different areas to see if there was anything she enjoyed and could study further. Or maybe she’d end up deciding there was a completely different career path. In his words: You never know until you try. Only a week in and (Y/N) was leaning towards anything other than whatever she was doing.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and picked up her head. She could do this, at least her favorite class was next. DADA had been her favorite class as a student and now that she was aiding, it still hit all the marks for her. Professor Lupin was a great teacher, and she really enjoyed his teaching, sure she knew all the material, but all of his students seemed to enjoy him, and she hoped if she ever had the chance to be in his shoes, she’d be able to engage her students the same way. Walking into his classroom there were no students yet, but she was still supposed to be there about 30 minutes ago (it really sucked that there was no apparating within Hogwarts), “Sorry I’m late! Professor Snape asked me to reorganize his personal storeroom before I left.”

Remus offered her an understanding smile. Hopefully it would be somewhat of a consolation to know that she hadn’t been missing anything important, "I didn’t really have anything for you to do until class started anyhow.”

(Y/N) didn’t want to admit it, but she was a little glad that she had a moment to relax. If only just to get off her feet for just a moment, and without thinking much about it she leaned against Professor Lupin’s desk, an act she would’ve never been so bold to do as a student. “You sure you don’t need me?”

Remus looked down at the parchments scattered across his desk. It was mostly a few essays from the earlier class and nothing he needed to focus on, but it was better than looking at her and letting her see his jaw twitch at the words. They were so innocent, or better yet he was positive that they were at least meant innocently. Remus didn’t really find it so terrible that he found the young woman exceptionally alluring, they were both adults. Would it be terribly unprofessional? Yes. Not to mention he was in a position of authority… but it wasn’t even a possibility, so he pondered why he bothered to even entertain the thought at all.

“Professor?” (Y/N) prodded… he seemingly entered a different world when she asked him a question. Sure, she’d only known the man about a week, but he seemed to do that often: zone out. He usually just needed someone to call him back to reality.

“Ah! Sorry, no I don’t… at least not right now.” Remus shot her a somewhat convincing smile.

“Well just let me know…” (Y/N) was starting to feel a little awkward and unsure of what she was supposed to do now. She normally had some sort of task to carry out to fill up the silence between them or at least distract her enough to not let her be so aware of what she was saying. “Between you and me this is definitely my favorite class to help in. Don’t tell Professor Snape though, he’d be heartbroken.”

Remus chuckled at her joke, but he kind of hoped she was only joking about the last part. Honestly, he was new to this teaching game himself, and he truly hoped he was doing a good job, but if he were being truthful, he wouldn’t mind if that wasn’t the only reason that she enjoyed his classroom. “Flattery will get you everywhere in here.”

Her grin was contagious, and Remus had no problem mirroring the expression.

“Does that work outside of class too?” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide. Where the hell she’d gotten the bravery to actually say that was beyond her. She surely didn’t think that she had possessed it when she had first walked into the classroom. Was she absolutely insane? She cleared her throat and jumped to go greet the fourth years that were saving her skin and walking through the doors. Remus took a moment before he joined her in welcoming the class… his grin didn’t falter. In fact, it stayed throughout most of the class.

(Y/N) had a hard time focusing on helping with lessons at first, but thankfully the more she got asked to help the easier it was to forget the embarrassment she’d felt. After Professor Lupin’s class she was due to help out Professor Sprout who always had something to keep her busy. There was also dinner, but after scarfing down a bit of food she was called to several different tables for either help on homework or an attempt on some insider gossip which she politely denied. All in all, she hadn’t thought much about her brazen words at all. Or at least it had been until she was alone with her thoughts.

She tossed and turned a few times in her bed, stirring the blankets and pillows with each thrashing. Sleep, she just needed sleep. Was that really too much to ask for? She felt more than tired, so it felt like a kick to the stomach in the sense that it kept evading her. After about ten more minutes of complete failure a thought came to mind. Students weren’t allowed out of their beds or houses after 10 PM BUT... (Y/N) was no longer a student... Maybe a quick bite to eat and a warm glass of milk might help her in her pursuit of finding the land of nod.

A wee bit excited about the new experience that was no longer off limits to her, she hopped out of bed and threw on her shoes before almost skipping her way to the kitchens. After a small bit of cake and a warm glass of milk, obviously accompanied by a quick and pleasant chat with the friendly house elves who worked down in the kitchen, she found herself being sent back to bed to try falling asleep again. She thought the attempt might be successful when a yawn ripped it way through her, but alas things were never that easy. And once she looked up and caught a glimpse of the stars shining through the corridors well, a quick detour never hurt anyone she supposed.

It was odd how different things could be with the simplest tweaks… like different lighting. (Y/N) had called Hogwarts her home for seven years of her life, and a great home it had been. If you had asked her last year, she would’ve confidently told you that she knew this castle like the back of her hand. Now though, she could admit she didn’t know quite as much. No, longer a student (Y/N) had a freedom she’d never experienced before behind these walls. And when all the students were tucked away in their dormitory and the stars and candles being the only thing to illuminate the corridor, well… she felt like she was transported to a completely different place.

She pulled the thin fabric of her t-shirt taught against her body as she dipped out of the hallway and into the courtyard. Being that she had not intended on being out very long or out of the castle at all she was the opposite of dressed for the cool night air. But the stars looked even prettier now that there was no roof to obstruct the view. She hardly noticed how frigid the concrete of then bench was on her skin.

Walks across the castle grounds were hardly a new thing for Remus. Getting out had often helped as a student and now that he was a teacher, he still enjoyed it (especially whenever he had something on his mind). Clearly, he wasn’t the only one, out of the corner of his eye, he could see (Y/N) shivering on one of the benches. He couldn’t help but be a little concerned, at least at her state of dress. “Bit chilly tonight.”

(Y/N) hadn’t noticed his presence whatsoever until he spoke. Her lack of awareness caused contributed to her being startled and she jumped a slight bit before regaining her composure, “Oh… y-yeah. I h-hadn’t p-planned o-on b-being o-outside.”

Remus chuckled, and shrugged off his coat, offering it to the young woman with chattering teeth. He hadn’t really taken too much time to examine her attire other than the fact that she wasn’t wearing much, but now as she eagerly wrapped the garment around her, he could see she’d been wearing pajamas. At this time of year, you would’ve had to be bonkers to plan on going outdoors in a getup like that. He just nodded when she said her thanks and snuggled closer against the warm fabric, “What brings you out tonight?”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep, and I thought I was a bit hungry, and on my way back from the kitchens I got distracted by how different the castle looks at night.” She smiled sheepishly at the man, almost like she was concerned she was going to receive a lecture from him. She may not have been a student, but that was a new development he supposed.

“It is quite beautiful. I personally think it’s just a little easier to notice when it’s quieter.” Remus sat on the other end of the bench. He cast his gaze to where hers had been earlier. Remus was a bit concerned he might’ve been disturbing her, but she didn’t seem too upset by his presence.

“What about you Professor? What brings you out tonight?”

“You don’t have to call me Professor. At least when we’re not in the classroom.” Remus knew it was a bit silly, he quite liked the title if he were being honest, but he didn’t see her as a student. He surely hoped she didn’t see him as one of her professors.

“Sorry, pro- Remus?” She sounded so unsure of herself, but repeated his name in a more definite sense, like she’d been testing it out the first time. The small smile on her face seemed to suggest that she was content with the way it came out the second time.

He chuckled and nodded. Then decided he’d answer her question, “I often take walks around the grounds whenever I need to clear my head. I’ve been doing it since I was a student here.”

“Students aren’t supposed to be out of their beds at night.”

“Right. I guess you could say I was a bit selective with some of the rules I chose to follow. I’m sure you can relate?” He was a little taken aback being called out by the young woman. Was it rude to think that he hadn’t pegged her as such a stickler for the handbook?

Remus found it quite entertaining to watch her ponder, looking in the depths of her mind to see if she could perhaps understand, “No… I don’t think I can.” She let out a bit of a laugh, “I really don’t think I can recall a single time… there must’ve been, right?”

“Well, you’re still young. Plenty of time.” Remus assured her with a grin.

“Clearly, I’ll need you to show me the ropes.” (Y/N)’s eyes went a bit wider again, realizing the way her words sounded. She’d been lucky that he hadn’t seemed bothered by her outburst in his classroom earlier, but she if she kept on, (Y/N) was positive that he’d see through her ‘jokes’ sooner or later. She produced a hopefully convincing yawn, “I think I’m finally feeling sleepy. I should probably capitalize on this momentum.”

Remus watched the flustered woman, stand and try to shed his coat. Of course, he stopped her and stood to his feet as well, “No, keep it. You’ll catch your death out here.”

“I-I can’t keep your jacket- “

“Just until you get back to your chambers. If you’ll allow me, I’ll escort you back. I happen to know a few short cuts, from my more rebellious years.”

“Well, I suppose that might be alright.” She couldn’t suppress the small smile the rose to her face, and it was seemingly impossible to keep it off as they walked shoulder to shoulder back to the room, she was calling home. Her only way to combat the school girl like giddiness hidden was to keep her head facing down as they walked.

Remus wasn’t usually a man that liked to indulge in things that altered the mind. He had enough of that involuntarily every month. That being said it was somewhat addicting to make a joke or point out anything and everything that brought her gaze to him or a little higher, just enough that he could see the smile that she was so desperately trying to hide. It was bittersweet the moment they arrived at her door. On one hand he very much so enjoyed their easy conversation and hadn’t been particularly ready to say goodnight just yet. On the other hand, she felt it no longer necessary to hide her face and instead looked him right in his eyes, “Thanks for the coat... and the walk back.”

He mumbled out a no problem as he watched her remove the article of clothing and hand it back over to him. She paused for a second before standing on the tips of her toes and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek before quickly saying goodnight and hiding on the other end of her door.

Remus stood there for just a moment, the small smile on her face becoming contagious, before he shrugged his coat back on and began walking back to his own bed. He ended up spending the rest of the night and quite a few days after thinking about it.

Remus wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing or not doing in this situation, but he was struggling with the contemplation for sure. He couldn’t recall being in a situation where he was so drawn to a co-worker that he worried about professionalism. Or really a job that he enjoyed enough he worried about the consequences… Dumbledore had been accommodating enough to allow him to teach and deal with his… predicament. Remus didn’t take advantage of the headmaster’s good graces too much by allowing his attraction for the pretty young intern to be another controversial mark on his resume. Though, she seemed to realize he was mulling over his options to the point of slight turmoil and took a step back, only interacting with him in the same polite and professional way she had before. He still found that it was hard on occasions.

“No offense Professor, but you look bloody awful.” (Y/N)’s words were a bit harsh, and a tiny bit humorous (they earned a chuckle from Remus), but her voice had been laced with concern. It didn't take much to notice how absolutely exhausted Remus looked, and that he was now sporting a few seemingly fresh scratches on his face.

“I’m fine, just recovering from being under the weather I suppose. I feel much better, really. “Remus cracked a small smile at the woman, as he sat down. It wasn’t entirely a lie, because he really didn’t feel great. Still, nothing for her to be overly concerned about, but he guessed she wouldn’t really know that.

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.” She looked over her shoulder briefly before speaking again, “I didn’t know if I could handle another day of double Snape lectures.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” Remus chuckled once more and then got a look at his desk… mounds of rolls of parchments. It seemed as though Snape had instructed all of the students to leave their two rolls of parchment on HIS desk, Snape had no problem transporting them to Lupin’s for grading. “Kept them busy I see?”

“Essays on werewolves.” (Y/N) filled him in. She thought the subject was a bit silly since none of the classes were on that subject quite yet. Judging by the look on Remus's face he seemed to agree. The normally easy-going expression the professor wore showed a tinge of annoyance. Perhaps (Y/N) could do something to help him out just a tad, he didn’t look much up to it yet in her opinion. “If you’re okay with it though, I wouldn’t mind looking over them?”

“That’s quite a lot…” Remus definitely appreciated the sentiment. It was a hell of one looking at the pile, but he hated the idea of passing on the work (at least to her, surely Snape knew what he was looking for in these words more so than Remus did).

“Really, I don’t mind. I mean I’m already refreshed on the material.” She offered a reassuring smile, she just wanted to ease a bit of the suffering (given how utterly tired he looked), “Honestly, it’s not like I have anything better to do tonight.”

Reluctantly, he agreed. He felt even more terrible once the students came in. Once she realized there wasn’t much help he needed, she got a head start on the reading. As guilty as he felt letting her take the lead on the massive work, it didn’t quite stop him from admiring how concentrated she seemed on the words. He couldn’t help but notice the way the corner of her lip fell under her teeth as her eyes darted across the parchment…

“Professor?”

Remus cleared his throat, “Yes! Sorry! You had a question?”

Remus did catch himself letting his gaze wonder over to the area she had set up to go over the essays. It didn’t linger much each time, because the lesson had been a bit more hands on and there were quite a few questions that drew his attention back to the task at hand.

“Don’t worry about any homework or anything this week, seems like Professor Snape kept you busy enough over the weekend.” Remus couldn’t help but chuckle at the sighs of relief and whoops of appreciation he received as his students all shuffled out of the classroom.

(Y/N) placed about two handfuls of rolls onto his desk, “For the ever so generous professor. These are finished, I reckon I can probably finish by class tomorrow.”

“You really don’t have to do that, I can do the rest myself, it would be no trouble.” Remus assured her, although he definitely appreciated her help, he would hate to take advantage of her clearly kind nature.

She didn’t bother answering him, instead she chose to shake her head in mock annoyance at him as she quickly gathered up her things and the rolls she had left to grade. Unable to keep up her act, she didn’t really want him to think she was actually being so rude, she threw a quick smile over her shoulder before exiting the classroom, “See you tomorrow, Professor.”

True to her word, (Y/N) had handed in all of the parchments and placed them in a neat stack on his desk the next class she was scheduled to help him. Unfortunately, that quick conversation was about the only time she really had to speak to him before both of them found themselves a bit too busy to carry on any real sort of sentiment up until the weekend.

(Y/N) didn’t know if she’d ever catch Remus Lupin in the Three Broomsticks. She didn’t imagine the man to have a personal vendetta against the establishment, just that he never seemed to have a lot of time recently to wander. Of course, it hasn’t been (Y/N) to spot Remus in the first place. It had been the other way around and Remus pondered if he should disturb the woman tucked away in the corner booth. But considering how rude it would’ve been to simply walk away when he thought about her mentioning having a drink with him once before, Remus made his way to the table, “May I?”

(Y/N) looked up from the book she’d been perusing. Her face at once reflecting a look of pleasantness, “Of course! Didn’t think you ever made it off the castle grounds?”

He didn’t blame her curiosity. He rarely did lately. Remus had taken on giving some lessons to Harry on how to deal with dementors (Merlin knew the boy clearly needed them with all the run ins). It happened to be part of the reasoning that he didn’t seem to have much time to chat anymore. Remus also enjoyed spending time with Harry when he had a chance. He just reminded Remus so much of Lily and James… plus with Sirius on the loose… well, he just thought it best to stay close to Hogwarts, just in case. Remus shook himself from his mental rambling, “It has been a while… what do you say to me buying you a drink as a proper thanks for all those essays? What’ll you have?”

Remus noticed a mug of butter beer in front of the girl that was nearing empty. Though it was a loved beverage of witches and wizards of all ages, he didn’t want to be too presumptuous. Perhaps she’d had her fill already. However, he wasted no time in procuring two more glasses of the drink when she confirmed she could go for another. He walked slowly back to the booth, careful not to slosh any of the foam towering over the rim. On his way back he took notice of a few students scurrying away from the table he was headed to when he got closer. Their young faces gleaming with excitement, showing their motives. Remus slid a butter beer in front of (Y/N) before sliding himself in the seat opposite of her, “Some admirers I see?”

“Quite normal, probably. We’ve all had crushes on a teacher, or I guess someone in a similar position rather. I’m sure even you can relate?”

He could recall a few girls a few years ahead of him, which he supposed might’ve been similar. “I can’t really remember any of I did. And you? Gilderoy Lockheart was the professor last year, right? I hear many young witches fancied him.”

Remus wasn’t sure why he was prying for an answer he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted. It wouldn’t be like anything would happen between them… still he thought it might sting a little to hear that her type was the complete opposite of him.

“I won’t lie, I definitely thought about it, but I think it was more about the idea of it… that man was bloody awful, not a big shock he ended up at St. Mungos…” (Y/N) took a sip of the warm liquid. Though there was only a tiny bit of alcohol in butter beer, this hadn’t been her first. That must’ve been the reason she decided to speak so brazenly, “Of course, if you had been my professor, it might’ve been a different story entirely.”

Remus coughed, quite taken back by the bluntness of her words. Though he couldn’t lie he felt quite prideful and hoped she was not simply pulling his leg. “Is that so?”

“You find that surprising?”

Remus nodded, not lying at all. He’d had a few partners in the past, but he still often found it surprising there were people in the world attracted to him. Sure, after all this time he’d come to terms with who he was, but he’d never really expected others to do so as well. Of course, Remus had to remind himself that (Y/N) didn’t know a lot about him at all. It was probably better for both of them that way.

“You shouldn’t. I mean I personally find you quite attractive now so, I don’t know why I wouldn’t have been then.” (Y/N)’s logic made perfect sense, but even having a moment to think while she downed the rest of her drink, Remus couldn’t think of anything clever to say.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus winced slightly at his own words. Surely, she wouldn’t take them too offensively, but then again maybe implying that she might’ve been drunk wasn’t particularly polite.

(Y/N) laughed and stood to her feet. She offered him a small smile as she gathered her belongings, though Remus thought maybe he saw it falter for just a moment. “Maybe one too many? Don’t worry, Professor. I’m not going to attack you or jump your bones. Your position here is much stricter than mine so I don’t want you to do anything you think would jeopardize it. It’s just a crush.”

“Leaving already?” Remus chose to ignore the confession and hoped she wasn’t really going to leave him alone to go over everything in his head.

“Yeah- sorry! I know you just got here, but Professor McGonagall asked me to do a sweep for any straggling students and their curfew is getting close. Better me find them than Filch.”

He nodded in agreement and said his farewells then watched the young woman leave the restaurant (tapping a few of the younger patrons in the shoulder as she went). Remus wasn’t quite sure what to think. He had his suspicions, obviously. But now (Y/N) has blatantly confirmed them. It would’ve been much easier to ignore his attraction if he didn’t know it was definitely not one-sided. Now he’d just have to rely on his willpower not to act knowing that he simply shouldn’t. It was probably strong enough, he didn’t like to consider himself a particularly weak man. That being said, why was it that knowing you shouldn’t always made you want it more?

It had been over a month since the Three Broomsticks, and Remus and (Y/N) hadn’t discussed what was discussed there since. Remus feared that their relationship would suffer, but he would give credit where credit was due, (Y/N) didn’t seem phased at all by his lack of retaliation. She treated him with the same kindness as before. He wondered if she had any idea how much harder it made it.

Sure, he definitely enjoyed the playful banter and pleasant conversations they shared. However, he couldn’t deny if there had been tension between them perhaps, she wouldn’t have felt so comfortable being so close to him. That wasn’t the case though. Because after seeing a small cut that had opened, (Y/N) found herself immediately drawn to check on the wound.

“What did you do here?” Her touch was gentle as she drug a handkerchief across his cheek and carefully dabbed some blood from the newly opened wound.

Remus wasn’t stupid. He knew many of the scars he had were visible and for the most part he wasn’t that bothered by it, occasionally he’d even laugh when he overheard students whispering theories on how he got them. Some of those theories were even more far-fetched than the truth, which was always a bit amusing. (Y/N) was definitely aware of those scars given that she wasn’t blind, but for some reason he felt self-conscious with her being so close to his face. He tried to ignore the feelings of inadequacy and come up with an excuse that didn’t reveal his transformation that had occurred only a few days ago. “Oh, I ran into a limb during a walk in the forest. I didn’t think it necessary to bother Madam Pomfrey with a small scratch.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a small scratch…” She noted, though it definitely wasn’t terrible, and he was probably correct about not needing any immediate medical attention. Still, she had found herself concerned when she’d seen the blood on his forehead and didn’t regret tending to the cut (no matter how small). It seemed like it was becoming a common occurrence for him to disappear and return all bruised and battered. There was of course an explanation that popped into her mind, perhaps a bit outlandish, but she asked none the less, “You’re a werewolf, right?”

“Yes.” Remus could’ve lied, but what would have been the point? Once one had come to the conclusion it was hard to deny… the evidence was there. Of course, many didn’t often come to the realization without help and research. He supposed those essays did the trick. He’d have to thank Severus for that one. Maybe it would be good that she knew, because maybe she’d no longer want to be with him, and he wouldn’t have to struggle with the moral dilemma anymore. He wasn’t the type to actively try to change anyone’s mind. He’d be able to leave it just at that.

(Y/N) pulled the handkerchief away but stayed close to him. It might’ve been a silly precaution when she thought about it but, she just didn’t want him to believe she was pulling away because of his confession. Instead, she offered a smile, “That explains a lot.”

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised by her actions. She’d always been so warm and kind; it was a good part of why he was so attracted to her. She proved that this instance was no different. It was surprisingly refreshing how content she was with his answer. (Y/N) didn’t ask him, how, when, why? Or express her condolences. Remus had grown up despising the condition and himself for having to deal with it, but it was just a part of him. She seemed to realize that and somehow accepted it.

Remus knew he shouldn’t have done it. The simple interaction should not have been what pushed months of self-control and denial out of the door. It did though. Remus's hand perched gently under (Y/N)’s chin and when she didn’t pull away or flinch, he did something he thought about doing for a while: he kissed her.

Just a simple and chaste kiss, but when they both pulled away grinning like idiots, it was obvious that things were going to be different from that point on.

And it was almost comical how quickly things had happened to change between the two. Somethings did remain similar, like the playful flirting and the stolen glances were still there… but ever since their kiss, the tension in the air was thick enough that it could be cut with a knife. There just wasn’t enough time or privacy in the day to replicate the circumstances in the few days that followed. It wasn’t like they were really in the position to entertain a proper label or schedule; Remus flirted with the idea of asking her on a proper date, but that wasn’t exactly practical. Remus now how to ponder which he believed was worse: feeling like he hadn’t been permitted to act on his desires or rather knowing how it felt to give in and physically not be able to.

Remus's lips twitched into a small grin when he saw (Y/N) smile at him from behind a few pieces of parchment. He watched as discreetly as he could, still trying to give as much attention as he could to the task he had at hand. Honestly, he wondered how (Y/N) was possibly juggling the workload she had… especially recently. He’d often see her running around like a chicken with its head cut off, sprinting from classrooms all over the castle. He’d seen her bring homework assignments with her to dinner and it seemed that in the past week or so the piles were getting bigger. It hadn’t really occurred to the man how much of the time they spent together happened during schooling hours or the occasional walk at night until she found herself hardly able to accommodate that. He hadn’t seen her outside office hours in what seemed like awhile.

Truth be told, Remus knew that he was probably doing this for more selfish reasons. The appeal of getting her alone was definitely a contributing factor. An argument could be made that it was to give the struggling young woman a break though. Remus made his way over to her once he had his students working on something that didn’t require his complete attention. Wand movements usually did the trick. He casually sauntered over to her and in a low voice he simply suggested, “If you’re feeling a little rebellious, meet me on the fourth floor tonight when everyone is in bed.”

Remus hadn’t been able to get any verbal confirmation before being summoned back to his responsibilities but judging by the mischievous glint in her eyes he had assumed the answer to be a yes. He was definitely looking forward to it all day, and he was more than pleased to see (Y/N) already waiting for him. She smiled sheepishly at him, “Guess I was a little early.”

He didn’t blame her, he would’ve been a bit earlier himself had he not misplaced his wand briefly. Remus chalked it up to feeling like a teenager again with the sneaking out and around, with all of the excitement an old habit of losing his belongings was bubbling up too. “Seems like I was running a bit late. Come on, I have somewhere in mind you might enjoy.”

(Y/N) eagerly followed him to a mirror, and though she didn’t often find herself avoiding mirrors she didn’t know if she’d go as far as to say she enjoyed them. It wasn’t very long at all though that Remus was carefully moving a mirror that revealed a passageway that had been carved out. Once the two had ducked into the clandestine hallway and he had lit up the darkness with the tip of his wand, Remus replaced the mirror. “Whoa! I didn’t know this existed!”

It was common knowledge there were many secret passageways hidden in Hogwarts. But the location of which were less known, but if that had been common knowledge too, they would no longer be secret. “James and- my friends used to have a knack for finding these things.”

“You all must’ve done quite a bit of sneaking out, huh?” She joked while following him down the passageway a little bit.

“A fair share of it sure… though we weren’t supposed to tell anyone. It would’ve been a lot more difficult to navigate them had they been more crowded.” Remus wasn’t lying, but he knew that on more than one occasion James and Sirius used a few of these passages to impress a pretty girl. If they could bend the rules to accommodate more selfish matters, then surely, they wouldn’t have minded him doing the same thing. He supposed he was just a little late on the trend.

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t. Where does this go?” (Y/N) asked out of pure curiosity, though now that she thought about it, it was probably good practice to know where you were going in general.

“It comes out right outside of Hogsmeade. Of course, that’s a long walk, I know.”

“Well, that’s okay. I feel like I could use a break.” She smiled and began walking with Remus. (Y/N) felt like she’d gotten a good bit better at juggling what had left her so overwhelmed her first week officially working at Hogwarts. However, these past couple of days had been a little hectic and she should’ve 100% been grading those homework assignments McGonagall asked if she could take on but couldn’t refuse the offer.

Remus was quite fond of the walk they shared and the conversations they had during it. It was much easier to find out more about her when they weren’t around everyone or restricted to a few moments before he began teaching. He asked about her years at Hogwarts and her family, and she inquired the same. He didn’t think he could recall the last occasion he’d really taken the time to get to know someone or had them try and do the same. By the time they reached the end of the passageway, (Y/N) knew that he was an only child and had quite the sweet tooth even as a boy. He knew that conversely, she came from quite a large family, but she’d agree that dessert was definitely the best course in a meal.

The room they’d arrived in was quite large, but it was obviously that anyone who knew of its location has long since abandoned it. It showed no signs of any visitors in probably years. Still, (Y/N) found it to be quite a fun visit. A little dusty sure, but nothing a quick flick of her wand couldn’t fix. “Well, now that we’re here what are your plans?”

“Right…” Remus didn’t think that far ahead, which he would like to say was a bit unusual. Of course, the ultimate goal had been to spend alone time with her, take a nice little stroll but now that was carried out… “I ought to be better prepared ne- “

She was well aware it was rude to interrupt people but seemed to think the best course of action was to do it regardless. (Y/N) stood on her toes and grabbed hold of the front of his sweater and yanked Remus down to her level. She thought the act of crashing her lips into his might’ve been a little sexier had she not been so short in comparison. Remus however did not mind one bit hunching down to her level. This thought had definitely crossed his mind, but he hadn’t wanted to be too forward. Now that he thought about it, it probably did seem like that was his plan all along. He guessed (Y/N) had found the situation easily read enough that she was comfortable enough to be a bit more forward with what she wanted. Back at the Three Broomsticks she’d commented that she wouldn’t jump his bones, but perhaps since he’d been the one to make the first move, she felt justified with the change of plan. He wasn’t complaining though. It was quite the opposite as he immediately responded, kissing her back and circling his arm around her.

(Y/N) broke away with a wide grin, “That wasn’t your plan?”

Remus chuckled, and straightened himself out, “Well, no, not originally. Purely innocent intentions. I might like your plan much better though.”

(Y/N) pulled away leaving Remus quite confused. Perhaps she was annoyed it hadn’t been his sole intention to snog the woman. He felt better when she made her way to a wooden table that was set in the center on the room. He was certain she would sit down but instead she turned to face him. A small moment of hesitation seemed to cross her mind before she spoke, “I hope you wouldn’t think too little of me if I confessed that I hoped that had been your plan...or at least prepared for it.”

(Y/N) wasn’t lying. She’d desperately been hoping for an uninterrupted moment alone and wanted to be prepared in case she got that moment. Now that she had it well, she hoped it wouldn’t be entirely too fast for the man.

Remus watched as she kicked off her shoes. She then pulled her shirt over her head and her pants had been the next article of clothing to follow. The undergarments that had now been exposed to him were quite nice to look at, especially with the model wearing them. The way the lace laid so perfectly against her skin made his heart beat just a tad bit faster and left him staring, or better yet ogling her. He did feel a little lame, just standing there. He had hoped, counted on being close to (Y/N). He’d hoped they would’ve had a chance to - This just far exceeded what he’d hoped to accomplish.

It also wouldn’t have been untrue to say he’d been a little out of practice. Not new or naive to the subject, but it definitely wasn’t something he did on the regular. He normally was well aware of the fact it was nothing to be ashamed of, but he did feel himself grow a little uncomfortable with the fact as she stood there in front of him. He really just hoped that she didn’t have high expectations of him in some sort of older man fantasy that would leave her ultimately disappointed at the end of their encounter.

Staring was probably a better sign than him getting up and walking away. (Y/N) did wish he’d say something though. She wasn’t too afraid getting ready. She did however have to overcome some nerves to actually go through with her plan of hopefully seducing the man. Now, she felt so entirely vulnerable and was now a little fearful of rejection given his lack of reaction… “Too much?”

Her voice snapped Lupin back to reality and her face showed that she was starting to feel uncomfortable, and Remus felt terrible. That was far from his intentions. He decided it best if he just shut off his head and let his instincts take over.

In an instant he was in front of her, lifting her into the table bringing her to a much more comfortable height for him. His lips were on hers and if the first kiss had been good, well this one had been amazing. (Y/N) quickly regained her confidence, and excitement took over knowing exactly where this was going. Her legs parted, allowing her the opportunity for Remus to settle between them and so that she could pull him closer.

Remus's hands met the bare skin of her thighs and traveled up and down her legs. The skin of his hands was so rough comparatively, but the contrast felt so unfamiliar and welcome. (Y/N) couldn’t help but be hyper aware of everywhere he touched and everywhere she wanted him to do so. Patience was a virtue wearing thin on her at the present moment and she found her hands quickly pulling the coat from his shoulders and working a few buttons on the shirt that he was wearing underneath. She was much too impatient to care enough to rid him of the entire shirt, once a few buttons were undone and it had been untucked she gave up on the task. She favored dipping her hands underneath the fabric, she just wanted to touch him. To feel the heat from his skin meet hers. Remus shivered a bit against her fingertips at the sensation.

(Y/N) abandoned his mouth and trailed her kisses towards his neck. Remus was being absolutely driven mad by the nibbling. If she was so eager to take him down, then by all means he wouldn’t go it alone. A gasp interrupted her, and Remus smirked as his fingers carefully brushed against her clothed core. His touch was so light it could’ve almost been construed as an accident, if the knowing look hadn’t completely given him away. Ever the tease, and partially because he was nowhere near done with her, Remus didn’t give any sign there would be a follow-up. He moved his hand further up her leg instead until he was dragging his fingertips lightly across her shoulders and chest, outlining the bra she was wearing. She arched into him, whimpering just a bit; she had no idea Remus Lupin was such a tease and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it. (Y/N) had never been one to beg in the bedroom, of course she’d never really been with anyone taking such time and care; it was usually a heated spur of the moment type of setting (kind of what she expected from this). But the anticipation was killing her, burning her alive from the inside outside. Still, there was a first time for everything, “Please touch me…”

Really Remus could’ve been content sitting there doing nothing but standing there and egging her on. It would’ve been torture for him too but the best kind. Just listening to the noises she made and the feeling of her breath quickening under his fingertips would’ve made it worth it. But her pleas were just too much, and Remus not only felt obligated, but he wanted to oblige her request. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra, finding a bit of satisfaction in throwing the unnecessary article to the side. He placed a chaste kiss to her lips before getting right to what she wanted.

(Y/N) felt like he was setting his skin on fire, everywhere his skin met hers like a flame had been held to it, though it didn’t hurt like an actual flame would have instead it just left a tingling sensation in its wake. Remus's lips trailed from her neck to her shoulders and finally… her breath hitched when he made it to her breasts. Though she didn’t have much time to think about the way his tongue flicked over her nipple, because almost simultaneously he’d pushed her underwear to the side and his fingers brushed against her again. “Fuck…” She hissed.

Remus used his thumb to rub circles across the bundle of nerves and sank another finger inside of her and relished the way her hips bucked against his hand. The way she arched herself into him… Remus couldn’t help but imagine how good how much better it would feel to have his cock buried deep inside her rather than his fingers, especially when he felt her clench around his digit. He didn’t know how much more her could handle, but he was willing to hold out as long as he possibly could, bringing her as much pleasure as he could all the while hiding his selfish desire to simply observe her sweet reactions. He might’ve been successful in restraining himself, but when her moans and whimpers turned into more pleas for him, well without a second thought he once again felt compelled to oblige her request and he gladly accommodated.

Remus withdrew his hands from her body and unbuttoned his trousers so quickly that it very well could’ve been in a record amount of time. In a matter of seconds his hardened cock was freed from its confines able to spring out. (Y/N) watched him almost as intently as he’d watched her. Though her mind was much too hazy too much other than stare dumbly at him. She’d thought about this more than she’d care to admit and after already having a taste of what he could do to her she jumped to her feet in front of him, ready to get a real taste. (Y/N) was willing to return the favor (plus a little extra), but even though the idea sounded heavenly Remus just didn’t have the patience.

Given her stature it wasn’t a hard task to turn her around and bend her over the table. The cool wood felt oddly amazing against her warm skin. Once she’d been fully stretched across the table it left only the tips of her toes touched the floor. It made her feel rather small and like she was completely at his mercy, but the vulnerability just seemed to heighten her senses. She let out a low sigh of anticipation when she felt him line himself up with her entrance and she wiggled her hips a little to try and hurry him up.

Remus felt a flash of reluctancy… this young woman had seen parts of him that people hadn’t in quite a long time. He didn’t think he could possibly pull himself away from her at this point, but should he try? He didn’t think, no he knew he couldn’t give her what she deserved outside this moment. But her impatience put an end to his internal sabotaging, “Remus, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”

His response she quite enjoyed. A moan left both of their mouths as he entered her. She felt her insides stretching to accommodate the most pleasant of intrusions. Then he pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, earning a cry of approval from the woman beneath him. (Y/N)’s imagination couldn’t compare to the real thing, and she hoped she would be able to remember every detail on his hands digging into her hips holding her still and the drag of his cock as he pulled out, or how amazingly full she felt when he slammed back in hitting spots, she hadn’t been truly aware of herself.

Remus's name fell from her lips like a prayer, a praise, a chant and he couldn’t think of a single thing he enjoyed hearing more in that moment. The view was quite nice as well: the jiggle of her flesh as his slapped against hers, the expanse of her back completely bare giving him an unbridled view of her skin, and the way she’d long since given up on trying to hold herself up and let herself fall completely flat against the table. Her mouth was permanently open, and her cheek was squished against the wood. But he was pretty sure he’d like the view of her body and his connected from any position and angle. His rhythm was starting to suffer, but he was hanging on her dear life, not wanting to give up a second of how amazing he felt. As soon as he felt her body spasming around him, he had to let go. Emptying himself inside of her and feeling a joyous release of pleasure and pressure that had been building inside of him.

Remus stayed still for a moment before summoning the strength to pull out. His breath was labored and (Y/N) was also trying to catch her breath. He felt a bit on the awkward side as he tucked himself back into his trousers and moved to the other side of the room to retrieve the clothes he’d pushed aside earlier. (Y/N) was slow in her movements to turn herself around and sit back on the table, she’d tried to stay standing for a bit, but her legs still felt a little bit like jelly. Remus’s face was slightly reddened when he handed her his clothes and began to button up his shirt. In a perfect world she would stayed curled up with the man for a while longer, but she could recognize that this was hardly the place to lounge around. “Thanks, I hate to say it but I think I might need just a moment before that hike back.”

He chuckled a little, “Of course, no rush, I just didn’t want you to catch a cold or anything. It’s a bit drafty in here.”

She giggled a bit before beginning to redress herself. Remus had been privy to see the show of her taking it all off, but for some reason he felt a tiny bit shy watching her get herself decent again. He of course couldn’t help but taking a few glances and when she caught him, he felt a little guilty, even though she couldn’t keep the large grin off of her face. Her laugh was infectious, and Remus found himself chuckling a small bit himself.

The conversation back to the castle was almost nonexistent but it was far from uncomfortable. Just a content silence until he’d walked her back to her room. “Thanks. It was nice to take a break... especially with you.”

“Anytime, honestly, I haven’t had that much fun a while. I felt like a much younger man for a bit, does the mind good, I’m sure.”

“Just let me know when I can be of service, professor.” (Y/N) hadn’t meant it quite the way it had sounded, but it was easy to catch her mistake when Remus raised her eyebrows at her playfully. The embarrassment was more than likely silly given the situation they had been in minutes prior, but it was still clear on her face, and she felt the need to get out of there quickly. She kissed his cheek quickly before hiding her behind her door again but of course not without wishing him a good night.

The walk back to his own quarters was a little slower than his usual pace. Perhaps it was just an attempt to hold onto how content he felt. The lazy grin on his face was probably evidence enough of how he was letting his mind wander, but he really should’ve been paying more attention. He almost ran into Dumbledore whose presence alone was hard to miss.

“Deep in thought are we, Remus?”

“Oh- uh, yes. Sorry about that, I was just on my way back from a walk.”

“Of course. I’ll let you get back to it then.” Dumbledore nodded and turned away. It was almost relieving for Remus to see the headmaster turning and walking in the other direction. That was until he turned around and winked at him, “I hope you two had a splendid time.”

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aquanova99 · 2 years

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Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 4

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A/N: Jesus it’s been forever I apologize in advance but this is a long longggggg chapter last I checked it was at 6.5k words so I’m sorry about that. Really so sorry again, it’s hard to resummarize and also rewrite your version of the book

A/N: I hope you are having a day as wonderful as you 🤍

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Y/ns pov

Day 1 travel to the capitol. Day 2, tribute parade. Days 3, 4, and 5, group training with private training with the gamemakers the second half of day 5. Day 6, train for and have the interview of your life. Day 7, travel to location and begin trying to survive. Lovely, at the moment you were on day 4. How many hours of sleep did you end up getting last night, two? Four? It didn’t matter, you were ready to begin training. You debated going into Peeta’s room to ask him if he wanted to get in some extra training but you enjoyed having space to destress and actually practice.

You put on an oversized, long sleeve t-shirt and black leggings and some white sneakers. You put your hair up in a high ponytail and headed down to the training center. You weren’t surprised to find it empty, but luckily at least this time there were trainers and instructors setting up for the day. You had been improving but even with the extra practice you were still behind the rest of the careers. You asked for the instructors help with archery, you knew if Katniss had been here that would be her weapon of choice. It was clear to see it was not your strength. After a few minutes you managed to at least get close to your target. You were frustrated with yourself, you knew how accurate Katniss’s kills were, you wondered how she would fare in the games for a split second before shaking your head and trying to refocus.

You shot another time and you were shooting too much to the right. You threw the bow and arrows down out of frustration, groaning as you sat with your head in your hands.

“Not bad 12.” Your head shot up to see the district one tribute standing against the door to the training center. You scrambled back to your feet, worried about more people now knowing about having extra practice. “When did you sneak in here?”

“Uhm, like ten minutes ago?” Lie. “I saw them start to set up so I figured it was okay to come in.” Another lie.

“Not bad at shooting, probably around the same as Glimmer.” He was stating an observation, you weren’t able to figure out if he was annoyed or impressed. You were nervous. And also annoyed you’d seen Glimmer shoot you were better than her. Your mind started racing. What if he had been standing there for longer than 10 minutes? You needed to get out of there.

“Well, uhm I should go… and get my partner.”

Marvel picked grabbed a spear and perfectly shot it at a target, “Sure 12.”

You sped walked to the elevator and headed back to your floor. You weren’t surprised to see your team waiting for you.

“Where have you been?” Peeta asked

“Couldn’t sleep I was just walking around, went to the roof and then went to see if the training center was open, they just finished setting up in there by the way.”

You knew Haymitch could tell you were lying but he didn’t press. Instead Peeta replied again, “You should be careful going to the roof, I went up there the other day and I think the victor from District 2 was up there.”

“Cato?” Effie asked

“Yeah that one.” You could tell Peeta did not like him. Most people didn’t. Anyone who trained and won the games were never the favorites back home. You decided to keep the run ins you had with him silent.

“I’ll be careful. Are you ready?”

“He has to change first. Go pick out a shirt that at least coordinates with hers.” Peeta just nodded and left, “and you, I can’t do anything about your sleep sweetheart but at least grab something to eat before you go down there.”

You nodded and grabbed some rolls leftover from breakfast and a bottle of water to take with you. When Peeta still hadn’t come back you ended up grabbing a small plate full of breakfast food and eating as quickly as you could. You were halfway done with your food when Peeta finally came back out.

“This is as close as I got to that color.”

“Its fine, lets go.”

“Don’t you want to finish?” Peeta motioned at your half-finished plate.

“Nope all done.” You grabbed Peetas hand and led him to the elevator, “Come on, I want to try some actual fighting skills today.” You weren’t the last to arrive this time. In fact, it was only the careers and the boy from 10 and the girl from 5. The rest of the tributes started trickling in after you and Peeta had lined up for the hand-to-hand combat station. The boy from district 11, Thresh was behind you. While Peeta was getting instructions from the trainers you turned back to him. You noticed no one was lined up behind him, probably too intimidated.

“So, still thinking about possibly being allies?”

“No chance 12.”

“Come on, I know Rue wants to.”

“Yeah, but I don’t trust your boyfriend over there. I think I saw him talking to the careers.”

“What? When?” This was news to you, you weren’t supposed to train separately, but if he had been waiting to use another station like this case maybe he had talked to them. You looked back at Peeta sparring and felt thresh lean over just a bit.

“Yesterday after he had thrown those weights. The guy from 2 and the girl from 1 talked to him while you were cleaning up from the camouflage station. Rue isn’t sure about him either.”

You remembered, Peeta had fallen on an obstacle course and when the careers began laughing you had told him to go against what Haymitch had said. You made sure to keep your eyes trained on Peeta. Your plans to not work with him solidifying every day. Thresh could just be messing with you, but he seemed too straightforward to say something like this. You spoke loud enough for him to be able to hear, looking annoyed with your arms crossed.

“I’m only doing this until the games. I don’t plan on working with him after that.”

“We’ll see.”

You were prepared to say something else but Peeta came down right then, “Go ahead y/n, good luck up there its intense.” You smiled as sweetly as you could and headed up there. Thankfully you were able get some of your anger out. You did your best to avoid most of the hits and land a few of your own but you ended on your back more often than not. You were not looking forward to having to do that in the games. You looked over and noticed Peeta talking to the district 1 girl, Glimmer. Now you knew Thresh was right. Dammit. How were you supposed to get allies if he was doing stuff like this? All of the guys were bigger than you and most of the girls were too. The only upper hand you had is that you would be used to foraging and surviving without the comforts of the capitol.

Once you reconnected with Peeta the two of you headed back to a smaller station, identifying edible plants and roots. A relatively easy one for you, and it gave you and Peeta a chance to talk again.

“So, what did you and Thresh talk about?”

“I was asking him about being allies with us.”

“Anything with that?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, it was a shame. Peeta was so nice, but he was making mistakes. Even though you didn’t mind at the boy from 1, you would never talk to him in front of the other districts. That would be suicide none of the other districts would even think of considering to being allies. “Why were you talking to Glimmer?”

“She was trying to dig for information. See what we found out about the other tributes. Since we decided to talk to them yesterday.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, I told them no wanted to be allies. Which is true. Since you talked to Thresh and he said no.” You just nodded. If you kept up this whole charade of working together, you’d never be able to work with anyone else. And if came down to a fight you didn’t stand much of a chance.

This time at the cafeteria you didn’t talk to anyone. You were starting to panic, especially for the private sessions with the gamemakers, you weren’t sure what you were even going to do.

“Y/n?” Peetas voice snapped you back to reality, “Come on pretend I said something funny. We still have to keep this up.” You just complied, you weren’t trying to upset Haymitch and so far he’d actually been trying to help. This whole charade seemed to be so easy for Peeta, you wondered how much of everything he said was true. You were so tired, you wanted to get these games over with. Win or lose, at this point you didn’t care. Peeta had to ask you things several times and direct you on what to do, while you did enjoy Peeta’s company forcing yourself to work with only to possibly have to kill him in a few days was doing a number on your mind. The worst part was that because you liked him you wanted to work with him less and less, you would know it was all business with Thresh. Rue… well. Rue was different you were almost rooting for her to win at this point. Especially seeing her potential come out in training, she never missed with her slingshot and she was always climbing on equipment, it wasn’t until she had managed to steal one of the knifes Arioch had been training with that you realized you were underestimating her, Rue had potential, real potential to get far in this game and you wanted to help her do it. You tried not to think at what cost that might affect your own game.

Going back to training Peeta asked you again what you wanted to work on, you had told Haymitch your skill lied in spears and as you had come to find out knives, and it did but you weren’t sure you’d be able to practice that in front of the careers. Might as well get adept in other areas, your mind went to the bow.

“Can we try the arrows?”

“Why not, I’m sure you’ll knock it out like usual.” Peeta smiled at you, you couldn’t help roll your eyes and let out a small chuckle. You nudged him and headed towards the archery station. Unfortunately, you had done relatively well in most of the stations, but they were mostly the survival ones. The trap setting being your best one, but Peeta did much better at the hand-to-hand combat and swords. You remember how much it had irritated you because honestly the swords were heavy and awkward for you to deal with. You needed something lighter, its why you preferred the knives but the chances of getting them really were almost zero.

Peeta went first with the bow, he managed to hit the dummy but not by much. He might be able to stop someone if he got his hands on it but he certainly wouldn’t kill them, unless he got lucky. You noticed the careers watching you as you lined up to practice, you suddenly began panicking about this morning. Maybe Marvel had seen more than he let on. Why were they so close? You tried to slow your breathing as you released your first arrow, definitely hit the chest of the dummy but it was going to the right. Again. Your head dropped in frustration, while strands of your hair had fallen loose around your face you could see Arioch and Glimmer laughing at something he said. Marvels head was tilted and he raised an eyebrow, almost daring you to miss again. Fine. You remember that you used to hate when people doubted you but after a while you realized that it was actually a kind of a good thing. You loved proving people wrong.

“y/n we can just leave…” Peetas voice went in one ear and out the other as you nocked your bow and you readjusted your aim slightly to the left. Don’t overthink it you told yourself. Before Peeta could give you any other warning you drew your arm back and released that arrow. Finally. You shoot another at the head this time and it manages to land as well. You shoot another couple targets just for good measure all of your arrows now landing right in between where the eyes would be. Just like that day 2 of official training was over. Time to tone it back down.

“Do you want to try anything else?” You ask Peeta.

“Not much else to do.” He smiled at you, “Want to teach me how you did that? Or is that too much help?”

You cursed yourself internally, cursed Peeta for being so likeable. You handed the bow over to him and told him to find his dominant eye, then you started restating everything the instructor had said. He got a little better, but not by much. Peeta had never had to scrape for food, he needed to be able to imagine the target was something that needed to be killed. You thought of game, animals. In a few days, you wouldn’t be able to pretend you were killing deer. After he had exhausted his archery skills Peeta asked to switch one last time

“Hey, since we have about a half hour do you mind if we go back to the camouflage station?” You nodded and followed him, the two of you had just passed this station but Peeta had been really invested in it. He got straight to work on camouflaging his arm into a tree, if it wasn’t so infuriating it would be really impressive. Peeta had a lot more strengths than he had let on, and you wondered exactly how much he was sharing with you and Haymitch. You watched as he Peeta continued to blend his arm into different backgrounds, you had stopped trying a while ago, your fingers were too shaky whenever you tried. Your hands had to work with all at once, not deal with hyper precision. Its why you did well with the knots and knifes, it was quick no thought behind it, you could focus on other things.

“You know I used to do the cakes.” Peetas voice snapped you out of overthinking, again.

“The ones in the bakery? Those were always beautiful.” You commented, this seemed to satisfy Peeta enough that he didn’t need to talk any more. He smiled at your recollection of them. You hadn’t actually paid much attention to the cakes but your brothers always wanted to save for them, you thought the money you earned could be used elsewhere. Older sibling privileges won out most of them time, especially since there was no real need for cakes in 12. Few could afford cakes like the ones Peeta made. Anyways, he didn’t need to know how little you knew about him.

As he finally finished and was washing up you looked around the other tributes. They were all getting tired, all of them focusing on the weapons. Ignoring Atalas initial brief, sure everyone touched the fire making but that was about it. Except maybe Rue and Thresh. But that was because Rue followed you to almost every station at first, today she stayed near Thresh for the most part unless he went to one of the big fighting stations then she would hang back and watch or depending on where you and Peeta were she would tag along. Rue made it easier to talk to Peeta, she was shy and for whatever reason Peeta was good at making her smile. Another reason killing Peeta was going to be difficult.

Everyone filed out and you waited until Peeta went into his private quarters before sneaking back downstairs. You wanted to work on what you were going to show the gamemakers. The instructors were all gone and the room was finally empty. It was relaxing being able to practice without everyone around. You decided to pick up the bow and arrow again, you figured if you needed to try and get rid of someone from a distance. You shuddered at the thought of you planning it, these games were unnatural and you had to remember that.

“You’re definitely making improvements 12.”

You couldn’t whip around any faster you came face to face with Marvel again, he had a smirk knowing you’d been caught, and not to mention clearly freaking out. Before you could try and stammer anything out he held up his hand, effectively stopping you. You were furious at yourself for not being able to get it together.

“Relax 12. We know about the extra practice.” We? All of the careers? Why weren’t they in here? He tilted his head when he looked at you, clearly confused. “District 2 gets a little too fight-happy their mentors wont even bring up the practice. I meant me and Glimmer.”

“Don’t need the practice, I’m guessing?”

He looked down for a second, he seemed almost…sad? Did he not think he had a chance to win? All he needed to worry about was Arioch, if he was smart he would get him during the bloodbath, when he was distracted. He might be able to play it off as someone else. He shook it off quickly and out of nowhere his confidence was back.

“I think Glimmer might benefit.” He shrugged, “Don’t you think?”

“I’m not one to judge.” You stopped caring then, tomorrow would be the final day to really train before meeting with the gamemakers and you needed a good score. Besides if the careers knew about you anyway, it wouldn’t matter. You shrugged and grabbed another arrow and shot it at the dummy. You aimed for the head. It was close but not exact, how the hell did Katniss never manage to miss moving targets, you couldn’t even manage the ones that were still. You looked at Marvel who just raised his eyebrows, you desperately wanted to ask him for help but you knew that would get you nowhere. “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to pick something up?”

“I don’t know yet. Seeing you frustrated is pretty entertaining.”

You couldn’t help mocking him. A habit from messing with your siblings. But it did get a small laugh out of him, wouldn’t you know? The competition had a personality outside of the games.

“You want to try the combat station?” It was your turn to laugh

“Yeah right, I got my butt kicked everytime. And we aren’t supposed to fight each other.” You say as you start racking the bow and arrow

He clicked his tongue and threw me one of the sparring sticks. “Technically the rules say not to hurt any of the other contestants.”

Your lips twisted as you took in this information. Would it make that much of a difference in the end? He had already seen you eat the ground with the trainers. You shrugged and followed him up to the mat. It took less than a minute before he had you pinned down.

“Ugh. Get off. I’m going to get my butt handed to me out there.” You said as you dusted yourself off, but made no effort to get up

“Yeah you should really practice that.”

“I hate you.”

“Ooh ouch 12. Don’t be mad at me because you cant handle a fight.”

“You’re how much bigger than me? And you’ve had practice, fuck off.” He chuckled and offered to help you up. You tentatively took his hand and got up. You took this moment to use you leg to trip and get him on his back, “Yeah you’re right I do need practice.” You smiled down at him.

“That’s cheating.”

“Ha!” You jumped off the mat and headed towards the elevator, “Theres no cheating in the hunger games.”

It was almost dinner when you got back to your floor. Thankfully no one was really around to see you come in, you didn’t feel like answering any questions. You focused the rest of the night on tomorrow. This is when it all counted. You knew Haymitch had told you to save your skills from any of the tributes, well that didn’t work. As far as you knew Marvel told the rest of the career pack what you had been doing. You were the first one at the table, again. Haymitch came in next and you couldn’t help but start worrying about what exactly to show the gamemakers. Haymitch assured you that you had nothing to worry about. You had begun planning what to actually do for the gamemakers when Peeta joined you. You felt but you got quiet, you needed to draw some kind of line between the two of you before the games started. You couldn’t let your feelings get in the way, and Peeta was way too nice.

“What are you guys whispering about.”

“Y/ns just nervous about tomorrow, doesn’t know what to do.” Thank God for Haymitch, it was like he knew exactly when not to say too much.

“Why, its not like she doesn’t have an array of weapons to choose from. You should have seen her with the bow and arrow today. Shes amazing.” Dammit Peeta.

Haymitch raised his eyebrow at me, now you had to say something “And that sparring station was…what exactly? I was right from the beginning, if it comes to combat Peeta has a better chance than me. I ended up on the floor everytime.”

“Well, I don’t know if you can fight anyone during the private sessions Peeta but now is when you want to pull all the stops. Everyone will be in the same training uniform tomorrow so don’t worry about making yourself look nice.” This got a chuckle out of both of us, “You two are going to be the last to go so make it count.”

Effie had been listening to the whole conversation, which shocked you because she usually made quite an entrance. “You two are going to do just fine.” You weren’t exactly sure how much of that she believed but Effie was nothing if not polite. Her and Haymitch left to try and get information. Effie wanted to hear who people were leaning towards, as if she didn’t already know and try to sway them to look at us. Haymitch wanted to talk to the other victors, apparently they had somewhere they all gathered to watch the games and do whatever it is they did. You wondered if Cato would be there. He might have been willing to offer some more advice. Guilt hit you the second you had that thought, you didn’t want to use Cato for his advice. You genuinely enjoyed his company, he had just always been willing to help.

You started walking to your room, you had to at least try and get some rest before the private sessions tomorrow. You noticed you were lagging, a part of you wanting to relax on the roof again. You noticed Peeta had stayed in the common area, he looked as if he was trying to sleep himself. In the end you couldn’t help yourself, Peeta had tried his best to be friendly, you may as well do the same.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you sat next to him

“Just thinking about tomorrow I guess.”

“You’ll do fine Peeta, you’ve done really well in the combat stations. Those are important.” The thought of you losing to Marvel flashes through your mind, it was the one thing you probably wanted to improve and just couldn’t seem to get the hang of.

“What about the games? I’m not…I’m not cut out for them. You’re set, all you have to do is get your hands on some rope and you’ll outlive everyone. And if you get a hand on a weapon? You’ll win.”

“I doubt that, I don’t have the practice for it.”

“That’s not entirely true.” He smiled at you, he was right. You’re experience in the woods had given you a huge advantage, and it had allowed you to pick up a lot of new skills. Still, you didn’t dare get your hopes up. You needed to have your guard up.

“Y/n, you ever feel like you want to do something in these games?”

“Just survive honestly.” Peeta chuckled

“I don’t know I just hope that when I die I can still be me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just don’t want the games to change me.”

“How could you not though? Even the victors who didn’t have to kill anyone came out different. People have to die for you to win. How can you not change? I think it’s a package deal.”

“Yeah….maybe.” You weren’t really sure what to say next, in the end the capitol wants to see a good show. You just nodded, you didn’t think he needed to hear that.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Peeta usual cheerfulness seemed feigned at the moment, “Yeah, sleep well. We got a big day ahead of us.” Well now you had to go to your quarters. You tossed and turned most of the night. It seemed like you were about to finally close your eyes when Effie knocked on your door to get you ready. You felt like you were walking through some kind of mud just to get to the breakfast table. Your body sore from training the day prior. As much as you needed the energy you couldn’t seem to eat.

“Come on sweetheart, nows not the time to be losing sleep. You’ll have plenty of time for that in the arena.”

You weren’t sure where it came from but as your head slumped into the crook of your elbow your other hand shot up flipping Haymitch off.

“Y/n!” Effie yelled

“She’ll be fine today.” Haymitch chuckled, at the end of the day Haymitch liked your temper. He threw a roll at your head and your spirits were lifted enough to eat as much as your nerves would allow you, not that it was much but it was something. You and Peeta were mostly silent on the ride down to the training center. Everyone had until lunch. Those few hours were dragging. Besides the careers and a handful of others, the tributes were scrambling to get in any practice that might give them an edge in the private sessions. You were frankly too tired and sore to use any possible energy until it was time. You and Peeta had wasted some time trying to work on identifying different plants. A relatively easy task for you, Peeta not so much. Even Rue came by and giggled at his many wrong attempts, you were lucky Prim really had been willing to talk to you about all the different kinds of plants you could find in 12, it made things much easier to remember.

Lunch was pretty silent, minus the career table talking loudly about how well they were going to do. The warning that the private sessions about to start got everyones attention. The boys were up first. Marvel got called up first, getting some cheers from his table. His demeanor was so different than when it had just been the two of you. Then again, you shouldn’t be too surprised, his alliance took priority. You’d only seen him a handful of times. It only took him around 10 minutes before he was done and headed towards the elevators. You could have swore he looked at you for a second but you’d only just caught his eye as you lifted your head to hear Glimmers name called out. Her session seemed to take longer. Maybe it was just because your eyes were still fighting to stay awake. You decided to rest your head in your arms. Your head shot up as the girl from 10 went in.

“Jesus y/n how late were you up last night?”

“That’s a great question Im not sure I want you to know the answer to.”

Peeta laughed, “Why not?”

“You might tell Haymitch, or worse Effie.” You were only half joking, if they knew you really hadn’t slept all night you’d never hear the end of it. Effie would probably have suggested some kind of Capitol concoction to knock you out. You looked at Thresh and Rue sitting off by themselves, it was just the four of you left. You motioned towards them to Peeta before trying to break the ice again, “Good luck you guys.”

Rue nodded, “You too.” Thresh had the ghost of a smile on his face. But he did a quick nod to you. And just like that he was called up. His session seemed to fly by and you were a nervous wreck, you wished rue luck again but you couldn’t stop shaking your leg in anticipation. Peeta tried to say something to you but you didn’t really hear him.

“What?”

“You’ll do fine.” He repeated, you nodded but your leg didn’t stop. Peeta put his hand on your leg and your attention was drawn away. His steady hand calmed you, if he was just playing a game he was doing a great job. Regardless, you appreciated his kind gesture. You patted his hand when his name was called, “Good luck, and don’t forget what Haymitch said.”

He smiled at you as he went in. It was just you now, you and your thoughts. You hoped your aim wouldn’t fail you. You got called back before you could see Peeta come out. Besides the careers none of the other tributes had come back through, nothing to brag about I guess. Your heart sank to your stomach, the gamemakers couldn’t look less interested. They had been there too long, they were probably ready to go home. No, they were just ready for lunch, some food was being brought in.

You cleared your throat to try and get their attention. “Uhm Y/n L/n. District 12.” Why did that last part sound like a question? One of the gamemakers told you to go ahead.

You decided to grab the arrows, you’d gotten much better at them. You managed to get a bullseye, well not exactly but it was close enough the gamemakers would think so. You got excited and went to grab the knives youd been practicing on your own. You threw them at the surrounding targets, it hit much more accurately. You wanted to do more maybe grab a spear next, it was your best chance at impressing the game makers you had thought but when you smiled and looked up you noticed that only a couple of the gamemakers were actually paying attention. Everyone else was focused on the pig that was being rought in. Your life was on the line and they couldn’t focus on you for another few minutes? Was lunch that important You grabbed another knife instead as you heard one of them wonder how they were going to cut into the pig. They had just finished setting the pig on the table when the knife left your hand. It landed above the apple and in between the pigs eyes. Suddenly all eyes were on you.

“You guys need a knife for that?” You could hear the venom in your voice. “Sorry to disturb your meal.” You spun on your heel and knocked over a stand with a bunch of swords and spears on it on your way out. Hot tears began streaming down your face. You immediately regretted your actions, after all the work you’ve put in. Now you doubted if you’d even make it into the games. You stormed into towards the elevators, you passed District 1&2 hanging around the lobby. Thankfully no one glanced in your direction, the last thing you needed is for them to see you as weak and puffy. You wiped your eyes as you opened the elevator doors, you’d never wished these weren’t made of glass as much as you did now. You smashed the button for the door to close. You could feel a pair of eyes on you but you refused to look up and kept your eyes trained on the floor.

The fresh air that once felt so refreshing and welcoming now felt like a slap to the face. But you felt like you would suffocate if you stayed inside any longer. You found yourself wishing again that you could talk to someone, and your mind flashed to Cato. God, why did he popping up? None of that mattered, you knew Effie and Haymitch were waiting for you but facing them felt worse than facing the hunger games at the moment, they had been trying to rally sponsors for you and Peeta. Now the gamemakers would give you such a low score no one would even look at you. You screamed into your hands, you just messed everything up. As you paced you found yourself knocking down and kicking any flower vases and making a mess. It did help the anger you felt but the guilt doubled when you thought of whatever poor avox might have to clean this up later. You tried, without much success to move all of the broken pottery shards but you started getting worked up again and decided to face Haymitch, it was almost dinner and they would be looking for you.

“Y/n there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Effie wasted no time in fussing over you the second you stepped off the elevator.

“I was just getting some air…” She led you to the table as you mumbled your excuse

Cinna, Portia and the rest of your stylists were waiting for you, great. After the amazing job they did at the tribute parade, it just reminded you how much you had messed up. You could only imagine how puffy your face was, you thought about excusing yourself to go wash up but everyone was waiting on you to talk about the scores. You decided to sit next to Peeta this time

As the adults start their small talk he leans over to whisper to you “You okay?”

You shake your head, no point in hiding. It was clear to anyone you had not had a good day. You keep your eyes trained on the rolls you were nibbling on after that.

As they start serving the main course Haymitch finally asks what you’ve been dreading, “Alright.” He says as he stands up to go to the bar to get some kind of spirit, “How bad was it?”

Peeta goes first quickly saying no paid him any attention and he just threw heavy things until they eventually told him to leave. You avoided looking up at the rest of the team waiting for you to go next

“And you, sweetheart?” Haymitch asked as he began pouring his drink, well theyre going to see your score sooner or later.

“Well.” You tried to make it seem like a smaller deal than it was, it did not work, “The gamemakers said they needed a knife, and I helped them find one.”

Everyone stopped eating. Even Haymitch though his back was turned was still, “And just what do you mean you helped them?” He asked you

You sighed, “Well the pig they had ordered didn’t come with a kinfe and it seemed pretty important so I just…sort of, maybe” your voice dropped to a mumble “threw one at their direction.”

Effie is first to break the silence, “You what???”

“I mean I didn’t throw it at them, I threw at the pig. Since apparently that was more important than me trying my best to get a good score for sponsors.” You could hear the initial annoyance at their actions rising again, “I’m sorry… I just lost it, I was doing really good, or at least I thought I was and they wouldn’t even look at me!”

“Y/n, what did they say?” Cinna asks carefully

“I—I’m not sure. I left after that.”

“You weren’t dismissed?” Effie looks as if she is about to pass out “Haymitch!” She turns to him looking for some help to scold me, I’m sure but Haymitch surprises even me when he just turns around with a smile and his thumb up.

“Well Sweetheart, I know I told you to make an impression but that’s—that’s something.”

“Will they hurt my family for what I did?” You voice must have sounded desperate because Haymitch patted your shoulder before he sat back down

“I wouldn’t worry about that, theyd have to say what happened in there. Its supposed to be a secret, more likely than not they will try and make your life hell in the arena.”

“Isn’t that already the goal?” You asked

Haymitch shrugged, you’re glad he wasn’t upset at you. You had managed to work well to Haymitch and the last thing you wanted was to waste his efforts. He started chuckling to himself, “What did they do when you threw it?”

All eyes were on you again, but everyones curiosity was piqued and you could feel a smirk growing on your face, “Its not supposed to be funny, but some of them were ridiculous. One of the men screamed like a girl and backed into someone else who fell into a punch bowl. The rest of them were mostly shocked.”

Haymitch laughs harder than you’ve ever seen. The others are laughing into themselves, even Effie who is trying hard to not look at the table to hide her smile, “It serves them right. Their job is to pay attention to you and give you a decent score.” Her eyes grow wide and darts to the other capitol members at the table who thankfully for Effie nodded in agreement, still she said “I’m sorry but that’s how I think.” You remember how even out on the roof where the wind would pick up Cato was wary of saying anything. It shouldn’t surprise you that the capitol was always listening, the scary part was how scared a small opinion could make someone like Effie and more so a career like Cato. You wondered how they would feel about all the things you had to say. You tried to distract her by bringing the conversation back to your score

“I’m not going to get anything higher than a 1.”

Portia, Peetas stylist speaks up “Oh scores only matter if they’re really good. If anything it could be a strategy to do poorly. Some people have done that. And from what Haymitch has said that’s what the other tributes will think.” She reaches across the table to squeeze your hand.

“Well why don’t we go to the living room? The scores will be getting televised soon!” Octavia clapped her hands together and began getting up. Regardless of what you would get, you were at least more relaxed about the outcome. Effie and Haymitch could spin something up about your low score if it came to it. Peeta is worried about his score thinking he will only get a four after just throwing around obe of the bigger weights around. At least you would be in this together.

The capitol insignia flies across the screen, tonight everyone in every district will see the chances of all of their loved ones on live television. Today your family would see how you would fare against some of the careers. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith begin excitedly talking about the games and how exciting it will be to see the scores we turn out. It irritated you, how this was seen so casually as nothing more than a game to these people. Your life was on the line and they were talking as if this was another news day.

The careers scores all range from the eight to ten range. Not surprising. The rest of the tributes range across the boards. A few of the stick out, the girl from 5, Hana you think, getting a 2. The boy from 10 got a 9, interesting you thought, He had mostly kept to himself. Rue getting a 7, that was impressive, you tried to not be too happy for her, especially not in front of your team. Thresh pulled out a 10 as well also, not surprising. Finally, its Districts 12’s turn. Peeta’s face comes up on the screen. Everyone is silent before an 8 flashes across his face. Everyones starts congratulating him while your name and picture pops up on the screen, it was interesting seeing yourself. You looked so…serious? Initmidating? You weren’t quite sure. You braced yourself as the team began shushing and getting quiet to hear your score. Then after 5 excruciatingly long seconds you see the eleven pop up on your screen.

Wait. An Eleven??

Effie’s squeal breaks the silence suddenly everyone is congratulating you. The highest score out of all the tributes. Theres no way. You look at Haymitch as he claps your shoulder,

“They must have liked your attitude. This is a show after all, they need some players that will make the games interesting.”

“The girl on fire,” Cinna says as he gives you a hug, “Just wait until you see the dress we have planned for tomorrow.”

“More pretend fire?”

“You’ll see.” Cinna was entirely too excited for tomorrow. And whatever he had planned was going to make a statement. His mischievous smile told you everything you needed to know.

When the adults stepped to the side you and Peeta were left facing eachother, your smile fading when you saw his expression but before you could ask anything he spoke “Congrats y/n.”

After that he turned and left. You weren’t even able to congratulate him back. Was he upset you got a higher score than him? That wasn’t your fault? Not entirely anyways. You weren’t going to let this ruin your night, you had just gotten an 11. You could worry about Peeta another time. You retired to your quarters, finally cleaning yourself off. The tantrum you had thrown earlier had worn you out, but you were determined to go to bed refreshed. Refreshed and ready. Now you could just wake up and start training for the interviews. Since you had volunteered this was the first and last night (you assumed) of decent sleep you would get for awhile.

You woke up feeling very refreshed the next day, you let your hair stay down since Cinna and the stylists would be in charge of it later. By the time Effie knocked on your door to tell you it was going to be ‘a big big day.’ You were out ready to step out and ended up being the first one at the breakfast table. You thought briefly about you would be doing back home, but besides setting up traps for the week with your brother there wasn’t much else to Sundays. Peeta and Effie joined you next. Peeta still seemed annoyed. You hoped he wouldn’t let it affect training. Haymitch barely had a minute to sit down before Peeta decided to clear his throat to speak up.

“I think its time me and y/n trained separately.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Cato’s POV

You were starting to get a headache. Arioch had been moaning non stop since last night. More like screaming and throwing a fit but now it had come down to moaning, both him and Clove were being insufferable. Everyone but you and Enobaria had stopped watching after District 4’s training scores. The year before you would have done the same, but you were interested in how the other tributes had done. Well, more like you wanted to see how District 12 had done You weren’t sure when you got so invested in their training. Especially y/ns, you had found yourself wondering how she was doing in training more often than not. You couldn’t really understand it. But you’d paid attention to whatever Arioch and Clove would debrief after practice. Apparently after egging her on she’d shown she was pretty adept at the bow and arrow. Which was interesting as she had never mentioned that, then again she had been careful not to reveal too much to you. It must have been pretty good if Arioch had said she had potential, he didn’t even talk that way about his own allies.

You saw the boy from 12 come up first, not bad with an eight. The competition was actually decently impressive, not that Arioch would know he wasn’t paying attention. Apparently y/n had endeared to Enobaria because she began shushing everyone when y/n’s picture came up on the screen. Thankfully everyone got quiet enough just as her score was passing through. While you usually kept a straight face even you couldn’t help your shock and Enobaria was now trying to cover her surprise as well covering her mouth with her hands.

That was the start of Arioch’s temper tantrum. Not only had y/n done well but she had the best score. Arioch crushed the glass he had in his hand and a slew of curse words came out of his mouth. While everyone tried to clean and calm him down you once again retreated to the roof, half hoping to see y/n there to congratulate her. What you found was a mess. The flower pots that decorated the roof were thrown and shattered all over the floor. Something had not gone well today.

Worse than that you felt anxious to see how y/n would do after that score. While it may have gotten her some sponsors, it also painted a huge target on her back. Not any more than the parade but now they knew she was a force to be reckoned with. The mentors were all about interviews tonight. Arioch as annoying as he was put on a good show. As he should because if anyone from the capitol saw he behaved he’d never get any sponsors, even his fake persona was boring the only thing he had in his favor was that he came from District 2. Clove was the same, but in a different way while Arioch tried to make himself look like a decent person Clove was determined to have everyone see her as vicious and some to be afraid of. You’d seen the other female tributes she didn’t have much to worry about.

The whole day was prepping your tributes on how to answer Caesars questions. Its mind numbingly boring. You found yourself tapping your leg as you counted down the minutes for the interviews to actually start. The mentors and stylists were lining up the tributes. Well, depending on how many mentors on a few of you actually got to go and do last touchups. You hung around with your babysitters just to see the ridiculous get ups they had put the tributes in. You had to look away from Rue when you had a flashback to your games. She was too young. District 12 came in matching again. Not exactly but they complimented eachother well, they were still going at this like partners. At least thats what their mentors were doing. For whatever reason you couldnt keep your eyes off of y/n her red dress complimented her tan skin beautifully. As the tributes walked past all of the mentors to stand in line she caught your eye and smiled at you. You werent sure how you felt about that.

Once Glimmer was called up the mentors all sat around a screen behind the stage. You sat next to Haymitch wondering if you could get something out of him.

“Looks like 12 has a chance this year.”

“Hmph. We’ll see how tonight goes first.”

“No chance on me knowing what she did to get that 11?”

“To be honest kid, we don’t know what she did to get that 11.”

You turned your eyes back to the screen.

As the tributes each hyped themselves up Haymitch began to try and get information out of you, “Where’d the sudden interest for our district come from?”

You shrugged, “I’d be interested to know about anyone who managed to score an 11 around here.”

The interviews were the same as always quick 3 minutes. One of the few visitors from District 11 came to steal Haymitch for a drink when their district came up. Rue interview was finishing as she asked everyone to not count her out, you thought about her score as well. A seven, not bad for someone so small, better than a lot of the older ones even, you wondered how she would have fared had she joined the games later. The guy from 11 was quiet refusing to answer anything Caesar asked, then it was y/ns turn.

She was quick to get up and greet Caesar.

“So, Y/n , the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What’s impressed you most since you arrived here?” Caesar started easy with his question

“Oh the food easily.” This got a laugh out of Caesar and the Audience, “Can I tell you a secret though?”

“Of course you can!”

“I can’t stand your shoes, I barely made it up here and Cinna wants me to show you guys something but I’m pretty sure I’ll fall over.”

Caesar began laughing agreeing that they probably don’t have the events for those kinds of shoes in 12 . This seemed to set her off but she played it off by saying how she was determined not to fall. She stood up and she began to spin around, flames began engulfing her. You wondered if she had actually talked to Cinna about this, regardless the crowd was losing their minds. You could feel yourself struggling to swallow.

Caesar begged her to keep going but she really did seem dizzy, stating she should have removed the shoes after all. The capitol was eating her up. Had she not had such an impressive outfit with the tribute parade most of them would have fallen asleep by now, everyone would remember the ‘girl on fire.’

Caesar finished the interview with a more hard hitting question. Saying how touched he was to see her volunteer for that family. You felt Haymitch stiffen. They had practices this question.

“Well, both of our fathers were in this really bad mining accident and mine well—we were lucky he was able to make it out but the little girl, Prim, her and her sister lost their father. Her older sister and I are the same age and our families are so close I don’t know what she would do if she lost her sister. But to be perfectly honest, a part of me had been wanting to do this for my own family. My dad was still injured and we have counted on the extra tesserae from to get by a lot. If I won maybe my family could finally relax for awhile, I’d always been to scared to volunteer but when Prim was called and Katniss was screaming for her. It just felt like the right time, and it was my last chance to do something different with my life.”

The best lies always had some kind of truth to them. This. This was a good lie. You looked at Haymitch exhaling in relief before taking another shot of something. A lot of the crowd was tearing up. If the tributes didn’t think she would get sponsors before, they would now. She was already a threat in the game but now she could be unstoppable. You wondered what weapon she had impressed the game makers with again. Then you wondered why you seemed to take such an interest in her success or lack thereof in the games.

Caesar said a few more words to finish up her time and she exited the stage. Haymitch clapped his hands on his lap.

“Well that’s my cue.” Haymitch left to go greet her, maybe lead her to the waiting area with the rest of the tributes, or probably watch the last interview in their own rooms. Some of the other mentors from 2 stayed behind but most of them had gone to watch Arioch and Cloves cameras from the floor. You looked at Enobaria and she nodded for you to follow her. Usually you’d be annoyed at being told what to do but what else was there to do but wait for everyone to finish.

Most of the mentors were talking, you saw your other babysitter sitting on the couch and having a drink. The interview still playing, you sat down next to him.

“How’s he doing?” You asked

Brutus shrugged, “he hasn’t really been asked enough for me to tell.”

You came to find out it was because Caesar was waiting until the end to ask the best question. Baiting him to talk about someone he was interested in so Caesar could encourage him to win. Peers began talking about how he was pretty sure the girls weren’t interested.

“She have another fellow?” Caesar may have asked this to get him talking but one thing that tied the capitol people together was gossip.

“I don’t know, but there’s alot of guys interested in her.” The camera panned to the crowd many of them holding their hands over their hearts. District 12 was giving them a show. Caesar encouraged Peeta to win. Suddenly you heard a shush from your left. Brutus got invested when the poor guy said winning wouldn’t help his case. Enobaria stood behind you and Brutus as Caesar asked for more elaboration.

“Why ever not?” It was a good question, winning anyone desirable in your own districts. Realization hit you a second before Peeta answered one of his final questions. You could feel the rest of the mentors crowd the viewing area behind you.

“Well Caesar…she—she came her with me.”

It was safe to say it was a pretty collective shock. Most everyone’s mouths dropped. Both in that viewing room and in the crowd. Gasps filled the air. The camera panned over to y/n, who seemingly was just as shocked as everyone else. Her face was stunned and she quickly buried it into her hands, the camera panned back but you wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed like that the rest of the interview session. Caesar pitied him and gave even more praise to y/n, saying it would be hard to not fall for her. A part of you was agreeing.

Peeta wasn’t done working the crowds yet, “I wouldn’t be surprised if has even caught some other tributes attention.”

“You think so?” Caesar prodded, Peeta just shrugged. Caesar began to say what a shame they couldn’t bring y/n back up. Peeta finished shortly after, with Caesar wishing the best of luck and the crowd roaring with approval. You tried to see y/ns face as they had to stand for the captions anthem, her face had turned from a pretty obvious red to stone. Her eyes never left the floor and she walked so fast when they were told to leave it was almost a run.

Arioch was unsurprisingly throwing a fit when we got in the room. More broken glass everywhere, Jesus the mess he left in every room was absolute destruction. You wondered if any avoxes got in trouble for his whining.

“God. Shes SO annoying.” He screamed as a glass flew by your head. This guy. He was going to cause you to blackout one day and then everyone will be having issues. You had to leave on several occasions and twice this week Brutus had to sedate you when you tried to shut him up yourself.

“Seeing her spin makes me sick. Who does she think she is?” Clove added her arms crossed, “she’s an embarrassment to the games.”

��And then lover boy pulls that card??? Argh!” He grabs another glass from the table to throw against the wall.

You nudged Enobaria and she just nodded and let you leave. You slipped into your quarters until his screaming died down almost an hour later. Probably resting or trying to rest for the games tomorrow. Finally, the week was of feigning admiration for the games was over. The tributes weren’t the only ones with interviews. Most of the mentors were asked how they felt about the competition this year. Especially as last years victor you’ve had to pretend to feel as if everyone had a chance at least in front of the reporters. You made sure to remain impartial but say that you were confident in your district. You don’t know how Finnick wasn’t exhausted by it all and it was only your first year. You had hoped to avoid after last years incident but the capitol somehow buried or maybe purposefully forgot the news of you almost killing a civilian within your first few months back. You weren’t looking forward to the crowning ceremony. Having to pretend the winner would be living a fine and dandy life.

You decided to go to the rooftop, needing to calm yourself down. Again. Another part of you was hopeful, for what you weren’t that sure of. You felt something lift in you when you saw y/n laying across the bench again. Her arms were covering her face, you hope she wasn’t planning on doing that in the games.

“You know if you sleep like that in the games you’ll never make it.”

“Sleep sounds nice. But if they walk like you then I’ll be able to hear them from a mile away.” She slowly sat up and smiled at you. You sat down next to her.

“That was definitely one of the more interesting interviews.” You said as you sat down next to her

She rolled her eyes, and buried her head in her hands “It was a disaster.”

“You’ve gotten the attention of the capitol that’s a good thing.”

“Ha!” She flipped her hair back up, “the capitol and every tribute out there. I’m going to be the first one everyone tries to get rid of.”

You paused as you thought about it. If anyone felt close to what Arioch was screaming it certainly did paint a target on her, then again… “didn’t you get an 11?”

“That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gotten that, but I was hoping I would be able to play it off and have people forget about it after the interviews.”

“I mean you kinda did, or Peeta did anyway.” The name set off a groan as she repeated her earlier action but this time she let herself fall accidentally leaning her head on your arm. Your body didn’t hide the shock well, you stiffened immediately

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” Y/n straightened up.

“It’s fine.” You chuckled, it wasn’t. But you were a good liar. What you didn’t like was that your brain was having issues forming any thoughts that made sense. “So, you wanna tell me what got you that eleven?”

She couldn’t help the grin that grew on her face, even as she looked away to hide it it was clear that she had done something she was not supposed to.

“All I can say is your…uhm throwing lessons helped me out.” The knife thing? What exactly had she done to be more impressive than clove? She saw you trying to figure it out, “You can ask Haymitch once I’m out of the games.”

“You could win.”

“Not likely now that everyone assumes me and Peeta are going to be working together.”

“Weren’t you guys going to do that anyway? Isn’t that you guys were always together?”

“No! He even asked to not train with me after the private sessions. And I wasn’t planning on working with him at all. Why get attached when only one person makes it out?”

Made sense I guess, “and the whole ally thing?”

“I mean you all go in knowing it won’t last, but Peetas stupid lie messed that up.”

“There’s no way he’s lying.”

“Yes he was, we talked about who he liked while we were training together. He said he knew I was the only one who was going to get sponsors and he needed attention on him. Haymitch said it was a good thing because it made ‘desirable’ but I don’t want to worry about pretending I have feelings for him. I mean—“ her eyes widened “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I was just talking your ear off. You’re really easy to talk to.”

“You’re probably the only person who thinks that.” She just shrugged. You knew she would have to go back soon. Probably at least try to get some sleep. Unfortunately you felt the same about her, she was one of the only people you actually wanted to talk to. “Did you see the damage that happened out here the other day? Someone made a mess out of Al the stuff up here.”

You knew it had been her but you still wanted to see how much she was willing to say, “don’t remind me. I felt so bad i was trying to clean up and I think I made it worse. That was after the gamemaker sessions.”

“You thought it went that bad?”

“They weren’t even looking at me. You guys are lucky going early, but I was the last one. Almost all of them were looking at the lunch that had just been brought in.”

You never knew the other districts had that kind of disadvantage. You assumed the game makers took turns or something. I guess you never even really cared beforehand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“Still if that had happened during my session…I don’t know what id do.” You paused because you knew exactly what you would have done. You would have thrown a fit worthy enough to match Ariochs.

“Yeah it’s not great. But somehow I guess I got their attention.” You could she was hesitant.

“Nervous?”

“Terrified.” She said as she looked up at the stars. “Anyway enough about me, what about you? Still can’t sleep?”

“Hard to sleep when all I hear is Arioch complaining.”

“He is very…determined.”

A laugh escaped you, “yeah I guess you could call it that.”

You met her eyes, you could see she knew there was more to it. Maybe she didn’t want to know the actual answer but she didn’t push. The fireworks had been going off but you didn’t notice it until the last one illuminated the sky signaling everyone to go home.

She sighed, you both knew it was time to get up. Still, neither of you loved for a moment. “We should probably try and get some sleep huh?”

“You? Definitely.” She chuckled at your response. You intended to get up and start heading to the elevators but you stood up too quickly almost knocking y/n over . You grabbed her arms before she fell over the bench. She gripped on to the side of your shirt sleeve to try and catch herself. You pulled her back way too hard. It couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds but you stood her up to close to you. Her face face looked up at your and was inches away. You both noticed you were still holding eachother at the same time. She released your sleeve and patted your arm.

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to—“

“It’s okay.” She smiled as she took a step back “probably should have waited to stand up.”

You could feel your cheeks burn. Probably bright red. You assumed at your mistake. You weren’t usually so careless with your actions. You could feel your heart running in your ears.

“You coming?” She said as she pressed button on the elevator. You just nodded and got in with her. Her floor almost immediately stopping, she slightly bowed her head and smiled again as she got out. You wish you could have answered those interviews honestly. If you could get on a tribute it would be her. You thought about telling her that. The doors would start to close soon,

“Hey 12.” She turned around immediately, the doors coming to a close “I hope you can make it back.”

Her eyes seemed sad, it was clear she thought her chances really were next to zero. Still she offered one last smile, “me too.”

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker

#Hunger Games #The Hunger Games #hunger games cato #hunger games imagine #hunger games cato imagine #cato x reader

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