#scott street is so them i can't

[stillwithmeisonlyyou]

"Do you feel ashamed, when you hear my name?

...

Anyway don't be a stranger"

But it's Regulus to Sirius years after, because he's still broken inside from when his siri left him, but he has matured enough to admit he doesn't want him to be a stranger and they have missed so much of each other's life already. And it is all bittersweet.

[emilyskinners]

i hate how people can just easily erase and forget and overlook a platonic relationship that had key importance to the show/movie they're apart of, like people talk about them at first, but when the second a romantic relationship is "more important" to talk about, most of the fandom drops it and forgets it when it's convenient for them because apparently it's not as important as romance 😒

[sundrop-writes]

Why Am I The One?

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

Why am I the one always packing up my stuff?

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

Why Am I The One always packing up my stuff? 

Summary:

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

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

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

Word Count: 15,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

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

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

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

...

It was a lonely night. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A knock on the door. Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was carrying a large duffle bag? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isaac-” You choked out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You shouldn’t care about me anymore.” 

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

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

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

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

Isaac held his breath at this. 

Dammit. 

… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

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

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

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

You were surprised when you heard the sound of kissing. 

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

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

“Isaac?!” You gasped, utterly shocked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged, his eyes avoiding you suddenly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You let out a sob. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, just tell me-” 

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

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

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

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

You fled, tears ripe in your eyes. 

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

And ultimately - you found yourself so achingly alone. 

… 

Eventually, you had let it go. 

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

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

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

“Take your clothes off.” You told him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You still loved him. 

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

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

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

But no - you couldn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt betrayed. 

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

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

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

You were determined not to let it work. 

“Isaac, you must be freezing, you-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just as you were about to, he spoke again. 

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

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

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

It was a dangerous feeling to have now. 

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

“Isaac, please,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had never been like this with you before. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something inside of you snapped. 

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

You reached up and slapped him broadly across the face. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When would fighting for him no longer be viable? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaac stopped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The realization was still crashing over you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged. 

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

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

Of course. 

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

“Okay, you want real?” 

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

“Dammit!” He cried out in protest. 

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

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

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

“Takes one to know one, sweetie.” 

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

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

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

So Isaac stayed far away from you. 

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

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

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

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

… 

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

What the hell had happened? 

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

Isaac was a werewolf. 

That was a lot to take in. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had he actually killed his father? 

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

So why? Why? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your eyes were glowing yellow earlier.”

Isaac sighed in defeat and slumped back against the bed. 

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

“Scott.” You said simply. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You waited patiently in his silence. 

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

“You know Derek Hale?” Isaac posed. 

That was a complex question for you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Derek sounded like an asshole. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were they no longer friends, or-? 

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

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

This came as a shock to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

“And Derek -” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I feel so alone.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

Isaac slept for a few wrecked hours, maybe less. 

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

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

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

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

… 

When you woke up, Isaac was gone. 

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

[erosmutt]

ok like i dont expect you to write this or anything its more just food for thought- which hayden characters, including hayden, would be a boobs guy, a butt guy, or thigh guy or something else lmaooo

ugh i luh yew for this. disclaimer, most of them are ass men <3

☆ HAYDEN : ass

I'll be real... I don't know. All his exes are flat skinny girls... KIDDING! Hayden is an ass man! He's not one to objectify, but he can appreciate a nice ass when he sees one. He's the type to give your ass a swat in passing, just because. Or because he likes to see it jiggle. Either way, he likes to touch it. Fills his hand nicely.

☆ SAM : boobs

Sam... just objectifies girls. All the time. He's a horny teenage boy, and nothing gets him off quicker than a nice rack on a girl. His favorite pastime is watching the volleyball girls play, and all he can imagine is grabbing at their tits, or burying his face into them.

☆ SCOTT : boobs

Scott'll stare at your tits shamelessly. Especially since Horizon's activities call for so much hard labor, you're constantly moving and working up a sweat. You mostly wear camisoles and tanktops, so he has an amazing view of your cleavage. Plus you sweating usually equals a see through top, which is an amazing perk.

☆ ANAKIN : boobs

Anakin hates that he can't see your body well in your Jedi attire, but he can see your breasts a bit because of the fabric straining against them. He gets distracted during training watching your tits bounce while you swing your saber about.

☆ JAMES : ass

ass man. ASS. MAN. James' favorite position is doggystyle because he gets to watch your ass ripple and jiggle when his hips smack into it. he'll do double takes when he's walking down the street after seeing a girl with a fat ass. bonus points if you're chubby - fatter ass and a whole lotta whole lotta for him to grab onto!

☆ CLAY : thighs

Clay loves your thighs because they make such a comfortable resting spot. After a hectic day at the office, all he wanted was to bury his head in your plush thighs to relax. The way you'd play in his hair while he rested was also even better.

☆ BILLY : hips

No matter what, Billy always has his hands on your hips. he loves to stand behind you, loves to feel you up. whenever you try and step away, he grabs you by your hips and pulls you back into him. he likes the sense of power it gives him.

☆ LORENZO : boobs + waist

Your body was what initially drew Lorenzo in, but your resourcefulness was a plus, so he said. Totally not your cleavage and waist. He helped you get dressed one morning (he was squatting at your place hiding from Gerbino, go figure) and he refused to get his hands off your waist. Just constantly roaming from your tits to your waist, back and forth. He kept saying it was to adjust your undergarments which you knew was NOT true but... it felt good, so you didn't make a move to stop him.

☆ LUKE : ass

For the same reasons as James and Billy. He loves to worship your body, loves to touch on you, just to be near you. He loves you, but the thing that really made him fall in love was your ass in the jeans you wore on your first date together.

☆ KURT : ass

He just loves your ass. Just does. He loves eating it too. He'll absolutely fiend for you, antsy for you to come home so he can worship your ass. Spank it, grip it, fuck it... any and everything. If it can be done, he'll do it to your ass.

☆ DON : thighs

Don likes to rest. He's content with just sitting. Napping, reading a book, just nothing too strenuous. One day you came and sat on his thigh after washing the dishes, and the way your thighs squished and spread had him curious. Despite being married for a few years, you two had only been intimate a handful of times, which meant he hadn't paid your body much attention. So he began to invite you to sit on his lap, and one hand would idly caress your thighs while the other would jot down notes as he prepped for his next sermon.

☆ VADER : hips

He feels like he has control over you when he holds you by your hips. Plus his hands are so large, it's hard for you to get out of his grasp... generally.

☆ AJ : ass

AJ can appreciate any woman's body, but it's something about a girl's ass that always gets him. He's always at fancy gatherings courtesy of his job, so there are always women wearing fancy dresses - most that accentuate their figures. Also, strip clubs. Can't forget those. His favorite thing about the clubs is the dancers bending over right in his face. All he wants to do is give their asses a good, firm smack. He wished they had a bit more, though. Why do they always hire skinny, flat girls to be dancers?

☆ LEO : hips

You two went to dinner after getting engaged, and the dress you wore had him in a frenzy. It wasn't a skimpy dress or anything either, it just accentuated your natural curves. While he was guiding you around, his hand was on your hips at all times. He'd occasionally give a slight squeeze, not to tease you, just because he needed to have a feel of you constantly.

☆ STEPHEN : thighs + boobs

Stevie likes anything about a woman that's maternal. Or, what he considers maternal. Big breasts, thick thighs... those are all things he associates with a mature woman. So naturally, he wants a woman with those physical attributes!

[norrisjpg]

scott street - ᴍᴠ¹

in which, the pressure of the 2024 formula 1 season becomes too much for the dutch driver, so instead of leaning on his best friend for support, he pushes her away.

contains: angst, swearing, crying, unresolved conflict, unhappy ending, shouting, mentions of childhood trauma, depression, jos verstappen mentioned (ew), a gilmore girls reference, not proof-read.

max verstappen x unnamed female character

...

...

she thought something was off, something wasn't right - and she was correct.

it was right after the belgian grand prix, after max had lost another win through no fault of his own, after mclaren had gained a few more points on his beloved oracle red bull racing.

she was there, she always had been, waiting for him after the race like she always did. although she had prepared herself, nothing could have prepared her for this.

he knew he needed her, but he was just so wound up, so tired of the shitty car, so done with the team that he couldn't even bring himself to look at her when he walked into his driver's room.

"hey, are you okay?" she asked softly, standing up with the dutchman entered the room, his usual sadness replaced with something else - he was fuming. "max?"

"i'm fine." he mumbled, discarding his helmet carelessly to the floor.

"do you want to talk about it?" her voice was somewhat comforting, but nowhere near enough to calm the pure rage bubbling in his chest.

"no." max sighed, refusing to turn around and look at his best friend.

she nodded, not that he could see her, but it was more of a nod to herself. okay, he doesn't want to talk, that's okay. but she also wondered if he knew it wasn't his fault, because he couldn't help a ten-place grid penalty brought on by his team, and he certainly couldn't help that the mercedes were exceptionally quick today and being held up by cars he was lapping wasn't helping him either - it just wasn't his fault.

of course, she knew he'd be annoyed about his race - but that wasn't the route of his emotions, his father was. max had obviously told her about the traumatic events of his childhood, long after they'd happened, although she was around when most of them took place.

however, she didn't bring it up.

"max?" she spoke quietly, her voice a little airy. "it's not your fault, you know that, yeah?"

"i know it's not my fucking fault." he spat back quickly.

"come on, max, please talk to me." she pried a little more. "it hurts to see you like this."

"oh, it hurts you?" he scoffed, finally turning around to look at her, anger ever-so-present in his pretty eyes. "how the fuck do you think it makes me feel? you always manage to make everything about you, don't you? just can't stand the attention being away from you for just one fucking second, can you?"

it took everything in her to not physically recoil at his words - he'd never ever been like this, and she wasn't going to lie, her heart shattered at his cold attitude toward her. she was only trying to help him and he was acting like this.

"nothing to say, huh?" he almost laughed, but there was nothing resembling a smile on his face. "you know what? just get out."

"sorry?" was all she could muster, an expression of hurt confusion on her face.

"you heard me, leave." he repeated it, squashing her hopes that he was just angry and didn't mean it, that he'd apologise and lay in her arms and just tell her how he really felt.

she got up, putting her phone back in her pocket, glancing over at him to see that he'd turned back to desk, fiddling with something on there.

hearing the door shut behind her was confirmation of what he'd just done - why the fuck did he do that?

head in his hands, he slumped down on the couch, already missing her presence. clearly, max hadn't meant any of that, but it was like word vomit. he felt as if he was floating outside of his body, watching him shove his best friend away, and he couldn't do anything about it.

outside, she stood there, motionless. what the fuck had just happened? gritting her teeth, delicate tears fell down her cheeks as she started to walk out of the red bull garage in aimless despair.

maybe if she hadn't said anything he wouldn't have lashed out of her? did she pry too much? why wouldn't he just talk to her?

"ah, good afternoon." a familiar voice came from behind her as she stood in the paddock, unsure of what to do with herself.

daniel ricciardo.

"oh, hi daniel." she thumbed away the salty tears and sniffled before she turned around - but it was no use, daniel caught on straight away.

"what's wrong?" he furrowed his eyebrows, putting a hand on her shoulder.

she knew there was no point in lying, daniel would get it out of her eventually. "max kinda... blew up at me? told me that i make everything about me and then told me to leave- don't say anything to him though."

"you know i can't promise that, but are you okay?" he shook his head, mentally noting to bring that up with max in the near future.

"i'm not sure."

...

a pretty afternoon in monaco had brought about a lunch between max verstappen and daniel ricciardo. a whole week had passed since the incident, and neither had spoken to each other - both absolutely terrified of what the other would say.

max was scared that she'd push him away, the same way he did. she was scared that max didn't want her back.

the reality was, max needed help - he needed her back. since his outburst, things had gone downhill. the car wasn't looking as good as he'd hoped in the factory, one of his cats was ill, and someone had rear-ended his car somehow - it was as if the universe was screaming at him to just apologise to her, get in his car and go to her apartment, tell her he didn't mean any of it and then finally tell her how he really felt - but max verstappen had fallen deaf, clearly.

luckily, daniel ricciardo hadn't.

"max, what is going on with you?" he asked as the two sat on the bench, slightly hot from the round of padel they'd just played.

"what?" he scrunched his nose at the australian, glancing at him briefly.

"you." daniel repeated. "you're drinking way more than usual, i'm the only person you've seen other than for work purposes, and then you pushed your best friend away - god, why did you push her away?"

"how the fuck do you know about that?" max snapped, quickly apologising with a look afterward. "sorry, how do you know about that, though?"

"she was crying in the paddock after the race." he nodded, pursing his lips. "told me what you said."

"i didn't mean to, okay? i miss her. i know i shouldn't have said what i said, but i can't undo it. i just... i'm scared- what if this is it? what if she won't take me back this time?"

"max." daniel said firmly. "i promise you, that girl will always take you back - you could kill someone and she'd still stand by your side."

"what have i done, daniel?"

...

she was more okay than she thought she was going to be. monday evenings were always reserved for max - dinners, movie nights, whatever they decided to do, it was together.

this monday night was different though.

there wasn't the familiar dutch laughter bouncing around her apartment. there wasn't the delicious smell of home-cooked food lingering in the corridor. there wasn't the colour of freshly bought tulips adding to her plain white kitchen (max always gave her pretty flowers when he came over.) and there certainly wasn't the comforting smell of max's aftershave stuck on her cushions anymore.

it had been three weeks and no word from him.

maybe it was time to move on. maybe he wasn't coming back this time.

she decided early on that it was his decision to return - he was the one who pushed her away so why should she make an effort? in no way was she saying it was for the better, but she was... relatively okay. yes, of course there were things she missed about him - no one wanted to do anything on a monday evening apparently.

so, she spent her monday evenings alone, drowning herself in blankets and fast food, watching some movie that she would never even the end of of - because she fell asleep every time, without fail.

so she did move on.

max on the other hand? he was moving backwards - rapidly.

he thought he was borderline depressed. rotting in his apartment with his cats, occasionally venturing out of the house to buy food or see daniel and lando - but that was it. it was as if all the life had been sucked out of his existence - all the colour, all the light.

so, when he turned up to her apartment on a rainy monday evening, it was a knife to the heart, to the head, to the gut.

he walked into the lobby, planning on going straight up to her and confessing every single feeling he'd had since that dreadful day in belgium.

but, he was met with an unexpected sight. there she was, smiling, with a man.

she was laughing, with him. they were walking towards her apartment, about to head into the elevator. if they were on normal terms, max would have waltzed right up to her and asked who he was - but he didn't have that privilege anymore, remember?

so, he turned around, shocked and almost reduced to tears, and he left.

if only he knew, she would have run to him in a heartbeat.

but, maybe it was for the better.

...

coming next... novacane, ʟɴ⁴ motion sickness, ᴍᴠ¹ (part two)

[riahreadz]

Okay ideal Teen Wolf fanfic pack Take 2! 🎬 Sterek✨️

If Derek is Alpha, then obviously Stiles is Pack Mom and Alpha Mate.

All the good fics have Peter as a good little wolf or at least relatively good to the Hale Pack whilst protecting them doing some dirty work as the Left Hand. Peter and Stiles, as best friends, 🤌🏼✨️ is just t it's golden. Derek honestly gets scared when they team up - he knows it'll never end well, especially if Erica is involved. Peter supplies Stiles with all the family heirloom books and artifacts or from his own personal collections.

Stiles just has a habit of collecting Hales, first Derek, then Peter, Cora, and even Malia.

And in the rarity that I read a fic where Ell isn't Stiles's son well Stiles took one look at the kid (maybe before he even knew Eli was Derek's) and filed him under Lost (Hale) PuppyTM Derek is particularly fond of Stiles's seemingly sixth sense when it comes to protecting the Hales. Despite also yelling at the younger man who can't get it through his thick skull that putting himself in the line of danger won't help Derek losing him anymore than losing another Hale.

Somewhere along the way, Peter gets back together with Chris cause, yes, they dated as teens with an unfortunate near 20-year pause due to the Argent/Hale shit show extravaganza. They are raising their teen/young adult daughters Allison and Malia as sisters - bonus points if Jackson and Malia are twins.

Now I can't for some reason ever really see Allison and Isaac being romantically involved after her death and resurrection. Usually, Stiles figures some way to bring her back,and going forward, she gets back with Scott, Issac becomes dependent on Chris as a father figure, so Allison and Issac are just good friends once she's back. OR he sees Derek as a brother or father figure kinda situation being the Alpha that originally turned him, and skips over the emotional attachment to Chris all together.

Malia and Kira make for an interesting side ship that I never saw coming but a cute addition lol

Boyd and Erica are mates, obviously. Erica is a little shit just like Stiles and especially teaming up with Stiles, but Boyd balances her crazy. Crazy fun that iS.

I do love a good fic with Cora being involved. The dynamic of her and Derek finding their footing once again as siblings just makes me super emotional, okay? Plus, Cora and Isaac make for a good couple/mates.

Given that I love a good bad friend Scott fic, Isaac has pulled away from following Scott like a lost puppy. His lost puppy status belongs to Cora or Derek, depending on whose good side he's trying to get on that day. But back to Scott - his main roll usually is to tear down Stiles or attempt to anyway. Usually, Allison is there to gather his wits back together and reel him back into being a good friend. I'im game with a good redemption arc for him, but it ain't required.

Lydia and Stiles make a good team, and she makes a damn good motivational ass kicker when Stiles needs one, which is usually at least once in every fic, let's be honest. She's either with Jackson or just a bad ass that doesn't need a partner to ground her. Jackson is still an asshole - it's why we love him. But he and Stiles develop a pretty decent friendship when they bond over healing from losing control from the Kanima and Void. He'd kill to protect Stiles. They all would. He's with Lydia, Danny, or Ethan.

Now we can't forget Sheriff Stilinski, rather his name is Noah or John, he's a big player in this pack. Despite being only human, he has a lot of sway when it comes to this rag-tag group of puppies and puppy adjacents. Derek and him make for a good team in the fics. Derek is a deputy. Or just the Sheriff adopting Derek as an unofficial Stilinski once he realizes his son won't ever let go of the Hales but especially one Derek Hale - plus it's easier to expain to his across-the-street-neighbor that Derek is family rather than filter through the panicked 911 calls of astrange man in a black leather jacket climbing once again through his son's bedroom window. Cause the Hales don't know how to use front doors - a trait they passed along to the whole pack like a worst kept secret family tradition.

Oh, and it's recently been brought to my attention that the Sheriff is in a secret relationship with his deputy Jordan and eventually gets exposed by Stiles seeing them on a date. Bonus points if it turns into a double date. Didn't know I needed this one until I needed it. However, I'm down for seeing him with Melissa or even a thropple with Chris and Peter. If he's with Melissa, then Scott has to have a redemption arc, or he was the good best friend/step brother all along.

And last but certainly not least, Eli Hale or shall I say Eli Stilinski-Hale or Hale-Stilinski? Doesn't matter as long as we all can agree that Elis Stiles's son. l'm not picky on whether it's adoption, mpreg, or Stiles and Derek got together after Eliwas born. Stiles. Is. Eli's. Father.

If some of this seems repeated from my Steter Ideal Pack - well, that's cause it is, lol. I wrote this first but finished Steter before Sterek. I'll probably rewrite this cause it's rushed, but I need to get it out to link for my Secret Santa in the Sterek Exchange.

✋️🛑 Now, all of this is just my personal preference on fics I've read. A lot of these obviously stray from the actual character on the show but 🤷🏻‍♀️ show canon meet 🫱🏻‍🫲🏽 one person's fanfic canon. All respect and rights for the cast and crew in bringing these characters to life, though. Also, I'm not saying that I won't read fics that don't include this stuff - like I've mentioned just some stuff I've read over the years and liked. ✋️🛑

[ajearthlinggg]

exposing you based on your fav will wood/wwatt song (my longest post)

A lot of these have nothing to do with the song. They're basically headcannons lmao. My Blake Jennings is showing

No instrumental chnt except Rhumba sorry

i started this in June enjoy

EIAL

6up 5oh copout: its low hanging fruit to say you hate cops, and I'm taking it. You hate cops.

Skeleton Appreciation whatever the fuck: Covid RUINED you

Front Street: you like Heathers

Aikido!: how's that obsessiveness and inability to let go going?

White Knuckle Jerk: you also like nu metal for the same reason. (Its incredibly horny)

Cover This Song: same as Aikido but only with your exes omg do not text them they are assholes

Thermodynamic Lawyer: PLEASE take time to calm down when you get overstimulated I promise if you don't do anything abt it you will have such a terrible mental breakdown

Red Moon: YOU LISTEN TO MALE MANIPULATOR MUSIC STOP TRYING TO HIDE IT YOU CANT BE IN THE RADIOHEAD CLOSET FOREVER

Lysergide daydream: I honestly do not like this song at all so you get a pass (don't kill me)

The First Step: you're usually quiet but you know how to SCREAM.

Jimmy Mushroom: you're usually quiet but- I'm just kidding. You're always quiet

Chemical Overreaction: you're usually quiet but if- I'm just kidding. You are never quiet

Everything is a lot/dte: insomnia. I dont know why,but insomnia

Self-ish

self/ish: closet theatre kid

2012: fast talker to a not comprehendible level

Cotard Solution: turn off the v-sauce it is 2 am

Mr. Capgras: turn off the 🌽 it is 2 am

The Song With Five Names: you have incredible taste. You can't describe that taste, but hey, its incredible

Hand me my shovel: you were the only talented kid in your elementary music class

Dr. Sunshine is Dead: you love the smell of cigarettes

TNA

Suburbia overture: BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD

222: your English teacher loves you (you're so goddamn gay)

Laplace's Angel: your English teacher hates you. How do I know? Because you can't pronounce anything (its la-plass-es not la-place-is)

i/me/myself: you have to beat off the fake fan allegations with a stick everyday

Wbtta: hey queen. How are those hyperfixations going

Outliars and hyppocrates: you spell the title wrong every. damn. time.

bbw: same as 2012 but holy shit triple it.

Marsha, thankk you: dyslexia and ADHD

Love, me normally: I get it. I'm not even gonna expose you. You already have it bad enough

Momento Mori: you are just SO quirky! (knives whisper things to you when you hold them)

Icimi

Tomcat Disposables: you'd shove photos of your pets in your friends faces even if they were dangling off a bridge

Becoming the last names: you either have wonderful parents in a happy relationship or your parents have been divorced for years and you will never relate to this song

Cicada Days: stop using self deprecating humor around the wrong people PLEASE

Euthanasia: this song is a masterpiece I have nothing to say about you.

Falling Up: WONDERFUL TASTE. AMAZING CHOICE. NO RECOLLECTION OF YOUR CHILDHOOD.

That's enough: you love Alex g you just don't know it yet

Um its kind of a lot: you either already love Scott pilgrim or it will happen. Its a canon event

Half decade hangover: omg twinn!! I have an addictive personality, too!

(I feel like this is a good time to say don't take these too seriously)

You liked this: ...what?

The main character: you can't relate to the song, you hate yourself

Sdrr: IF I SEE ONE MORE PERSON TAKING THIS SONG SUPER SERIOUSLY IM GONNA LOSE MY SHIT YDHZJABXV

Bfb: ur just a silly lil guy

Willard!: you're a therian. There is no human explanation to this.

white noise: you love pink floyd you just don't know it yet

Atkf: HOW TF DID I FORGET THIS ONE anyways you get bad habits (nail biting, staying up too late. Etc)

CHNT

Yes to err: you are still waiting for chnt season 2 BC you want to see what happens with Adam

Your body, my temple: I have a strong feeling you have a tummy ache right now

Venetian Blind Man: you love nobody sexually you just don't know it yet (this is a very ace choice idk why)

Rhumba of Death: you LOVE Halloween

When Somebody Needs You: Tyler the Creator is probably your favorite rapper

Live

Trww

Self/ish: You can't sleep if your room has the SLIGHTEST amount of light in it

10-4 6-up: unlike the original, you don't just hate cops, you hate anybody who can tell you what to do (your teachers are probably just trying to do their job. please)

Cotards Solution: you can't sleep without background noise

Dr Sunshine Lives!: You never get sick physically (mentally on the other hand...)

Where do you get off: omg the horniest of the horny. Gerard Way on stage levels of horny. Nine Inch Nails levels of horny. (Or you really like Umbrella Academy idk why)

Aikido: you can't relate to it. You hate everybody

Take a break grab some water this is getting long

Thermodynamic Lawyer: you have gotten kicked out of restaurants because of how loud you are

Front Street: WE GET IT. IT'S BETTER THAN THE ORIGINAL.

Wasting away again: I am so sorry holy shit

Hand me my (x), I'm (y): you suck at algebra

The First Step: you wish you could do the AUGHHHHHHHH

2012: severe social anxiety

Mr capgras: literally the opposite of 2012 (live)

Chemical Overreaction: you know so many random fun facts

Fibrodysplasia: I'm not even gonna talk about your mental issues because I will be banned from this app (which is pretty much impossible)

Icid

Cicada Days: you also get a pass fuck I'm so sorry

The main character okay you ACTUALLY can relate to it

Icimi: OMG I LOVE YOU

atkf: you cry every day even if you aren't sad

Becoming the last names: please don't become a Disney adult

Vampire ref: LISTEN TO MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN PUTTING IT OFF AND IK YOU LOVE HOT VAMPIRE MUSIC

Half decade hangover: oh my god talk to somebody it'll be okay I'm so sorry

Tsw5n: you love the way he says "what the fuck"

Euthanasia: once again, ANOTHER PASS. IM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY

Jimmy Mushrooms: You. Me. Marriage. Now.

Laplaces Angel: you listen to LitWTC

i/me/myself: you were trying to separate yourself from the normal i/me/myself fans

The first step: idk why but you REALLY like lemonade

skeleton appreciation day: you can NOT play any instrument

tomcat disposables: you love concept albums

White noise: unlike cotards, you need to sleep in SILENCE

Love me normally: arctic monkeys. that's all I have to say. idk what about them but, yeah

misanthrapologist: GAY QUEER LGBT HOMOSEXUAL FRUITY ZESTY ROMANTICALLY ATTRACTED TO PEOPLE OF THE SAME GENDER

Falling up: wonderful taste once again please don't become a Disney adult

thats enough let's get you home: you say "YIPPIE!!" a lot

And if I did: god made you shy because he knew if you weren't you would be unstoppable

[icarusredwings]

Carly Crocker

(Not to be confused with Carly Boothe, That's Al's girlfriend, This is Beast's wife, Story of Wade meeting her at the end)

The beauty and the beast episode pissed me off, so let's go, In finding home AU Carly Anne Crocker (aka the ex blind girl) shows up later to the mansconfesses her feelings to Hank. This time, Jeans words ring in his head about letting a girl decide how much she wants to risk and can't turn her away. If anything, he is overwhelmed with joy. I mean, come on, it doesn't take a genius to know he struggles with romance so the fact that he loved her so much and let her go, and she still came back to him? It's enough to make his entire face purple and spin her around. And if you're wondering, 'Do they replace Scott and Jean as the mansion 'lovebirds' ?'

YES. Yes, they do. Because there is not a word that describes how utterly whipped he is for her, and she sees no one else the way him, even before the operation. She can still recognize him by scent and foot steps alone.

Now that I fixed that, here's some head canons.

Carly, now that she stays at the mansion, can quickly be unnoticeable, especially if you don't go in the basement or the lab. Most people only first meet/ notice her when he comes upstairs with her on his arm.

She is mainly seen talking with Jean, but she has no distaste for any of the others. Anyone can come talk to her, and she would be more than happy to talk. She does occasionally ask questions that might seem personal, letting her curiosities of her new friends get to her.

Asking Kurt why his tail wraps around peoples legs when he hugs them, asking Kitty what would happen if she accidently got stuck in a wall, asking Ororo why she was claustrophobic, asking Logan what it was like in the 1800s. Asking Remy what it was like growing up on the streets with his type of powers. She once even asked Charles if he had regrets about opening a school.

Some things she just stook to asking Hank about. Like why Rouge didn't have a very strong trust in other women other than the ones on the team. Or How Scott delt with all the preasure of somehow representing the X men when the entire world seemed to dislike them until a time of crisis when heros are needed.

For the most part, he'd quote something at her or give her a simple awnser. "My dear, Rouge has had a hard life, and not a great time with her mother. I would steer clear of asking her this directly seeing as you dont wish to upset her, do you?" Its asked in a genuine stand point. Never trying to shame her into not being curious.

Of course, she doesn't wish to upset her friends. But there is so many lies on the media and they hold struggles she couldn't possibly understand without asking.

Hank is very chivalrous, between opening doors, taking her hand when they go up the steps, writing her notes, looks away when he feels shes indecent (dispite them having gotten married almost asap) Brings her small gifts of flowers and cakes, anything really he finds she might enjoy.

Being practically attached to the hip, she learns a lot of things and becomes somewhat of an assistant type, bringing him things, scolding him for staying up too late, forcing him to take breaks in order to eat, teasing him as a last resort. It's very Pepper Potts of her really.

Except Hank isn't like Stark. He listens (most days 🙄) seeing as he finds Carly can be very.. distracting.. when she wants too.

Mainly, She dosn't call him beasts unless she is saying "My Beast" or "Youre the only beast in my heart." Sappy stuff like that drives Hank insane. What also makes him a bit looney is when she refers to herself as "Mrs. McCoy." Or calls for him with a sweet low "Oh, Henry~"

Other than that, it's either Hank, Dr. McCoy or just Sweetie.

Carly also doesn't mind him hanging from things. She finds it cute and often teases him about Spiderman kissing her. She also simply adores when the bed dips down low and she can cuddle him like a huge teddy. Who needs a blanket when your husband was covered in the softest fur you've ever felt?

Sometimes Carly brushes him out, to save the drain later you know? But also it felt nice to get him to finally relax and lean into her. She would kiss his face and tell him how handsome he is, dragging the brush across his arms and chest, giggling at how love drunk he looks.

Other times, when Carly got cold she'd just come to him and he'll hold her while working, walking around with her in his arm, her snuggled up on his shoulder. Something Carly has learned is that Hank is very touchy. Almost starved for it so she dosn't mind being carried or held.

He rubs her back, pecking kisses onto her head while he types up something or reads. Sometimes the children make fun of him, comparing carly and him to when king kong grabs that girl and climbs the empire state building. It makes Hank a bit upset but Carly giggles because they have no clue just how safe she feels in his arms.

I wanna assume that during her periods he carries her extra and wraps one of those travel heating pads around her, gives her pain meds and makes her food. Domestic stuff that really just makes you wanna AUUUGGHH when you think about it cause god damn hes a romantic.

At first, Hank, being so gentle with her was sweet. How gently he'd hold her in bed, how softly he'd be sure to grip her when carrying her. But Carly gets a bit frustrated when Hank acts like she's made from glass.

I can see him humming Mozart to her, calling her Dear 24/7, quoting poetry to her, being sure to kiss her before he leaves on missions, etc.

He is OBSESSED when she wears his white coat because its so big on her. He thinks its adorable and cant help but stare when ever he sees her walking around in it. (Even though she lowkey looks like the pope) Carly likes wearing it when its cold in the lab or when shes taking a nap in his library chair because it smells like him. Hank has many pictures of her but one of his favorites is when you fell asleep in his chair while wearing his coat and you can clearly see in the picture that you dozed off while reading. He thinks its absolutely the best thing in that stupid cellular device.

I can definitely see their first night together- TOGETHER being something difficult. Hes too gentle with her and it takes her riling him up to get him to fuck her properly. She fully understands what shes getting into and they have plenty of time and lube, so why not?

"Henry my darling, I love you very much, and I know you are scared but I am not damaged, I'm not going to shatter if you touch me. I'm not an old vase, I am your wife. One who is capable of deciding when it's enough. So please.. stop treating me like im a pricless artifact."

"B-but you are priceless-"

"Henry-" she gives him this look of 'quit the bs'

"O-okay... I suppose I can try.."

Once she breaks his whole "I can't be too rough or ill hurt her cause shes human" bullshit mindset, It's insane.

No, they aren't rabbits but it is quite frequent and its a shock how they haven't gotten pregnant yet.

If anything its like they both cant get enough of each other, between the whispers she does in his ear to his hands around her waist all the time.

Sweet jesus. Poor Logan. He has to hear all this. He (both old logan and worst logan) is very happy for his friend but GOD he didnt ever think he'd hear someone moan 'Oh fuck- Henry!' before as loudly as Carly does. Jesus sometimes he wishes he didnt have super hearing.

It's not until Storm mentions that Hank has a wife during orientation, in which Wade finds out, and clearly, he has to go tease her about it.

Sliding onto the stainless steel work place he smirks. He's in his regular clothes today so he fully expects her to scream. She dosn't.

"Oh.. Hello. Dr. McCoy is out at the moment." She says, like an assistant does.

He smiles all big and leans forward. "So you're married to big blue huh?"

Quite proudly she smiles. "Yes. I am."

"Wwooww good for him. Actually, it's no good for you." The first part seems normal, but it's never normal with Wade. "Does he bend you over that table over there?" He blurts out. Well shit- that was suppose to stay inside.

But Carly already is smirking. "Yes, he does. It's deeply sanitized."

Wades eyes widden as if he had hit jackpot. Everyone in this stuffy place was all stuck up and prim and proper. So to hear Carly straight up admit this felt like immediate friendship.

"Wooo look at you girl. Get it. But I gotta ask. Why?"

"Why the table or why did I marry him?"

"Oooh... Both!"

"Well, A. It's fun. B. He's a good man. He's very sweet to me, even when I was blind I knew there was something about him. He cares for me so much more then anyone else has."

Wade feels like he can relate. He wants to say something honest like 'Yeah, He is a pretty good guy isnt he?' But instead his brain had other ideas.

"What? You into weird lookin mutants or something?" He makes a face that would have been wiggling his brows, if he had any.

It makes Carly shake her head, giggling.

"Well, not particualry but... You know what they say about guys with big feet.."

This made sense about wolvie actually..

He gasps loudly, hand coming to his mouth. "You naughty gal!! So it is true. You know, I've always wondered myself."

"Mmh. Now that I awnsered your questions, you have to awnser mine about the Wolverine."

"Ooh smart. Did your research I see. Who warned you I was coming?"

She gigles again. "My husband."

"Ahh that snitch. So. What do you wanna know? Im an open book but I do have a lying disorder. Full warning."

"Is it true what they say? That canadians make good lovers?" She asks, leaning on the table that Wade was now kicking his feet on.

"Unless...y'know... if you're into that sort of thing." This last bit is a whisper as Wade daintily flashes the tags around his neck while trying to give her a flirty face. "I'm owned, baby! You can't have me. Im too expensive."

He gasps again, putting a hand to his chest. "Woah woah woah! Ladies! Calm down. Im a married man!!"

COUGH engaged. Actually COUGH

Again, Carly shakes her head, giggling. Goodness. What a character this one was. "No, unfortunately, I am not. And im sure you are."

"Well, good! Cause if you break my friends heart ill rip yours out." He says, smiling, but you could tell behind those moonstone eyes that there was no joke about it.

"If I ever break his heart, I'll rip it out myself." Carly says, staring him dead center. She wasn't afraid. Should she be? Yes. But she wasn't. Because she knows the only way Hank was getting rid of her was if he cheated or hit her.

Just as he was about to say something else, he turns, hearing a "Wade?" In which suddenly he gasps again, drimatically. "Woah!! Stay off me lady! You're married!! What would ol hanky panky think about this!?" It's loud, over the top, and he even holds himself like carly was just trying to strip him all while she stood there, crossed arms, hip out and only a slightly entertained smirk.

"Really?"

"Wade what do you need?" Said blue guy asks, coming around to set down two lunch trays.

"Your wifes tryna get dirty with the poole Hank!" He says and now theres two people giving him a stupid look.

"Yeah.. riiigghhhtt.... anyway. I believe Logan is looking for you. Shall I tell him you're busy?"

Wade grins widely as he jumps off the table. "Nope. Have a wonderful day. Great meeting you. You're nothing like my roommate's girlfriend Carly, though. She's polish. You dont look polish-"

"Wade.."

"Bye! My HUSBAND is callin me!" He says, practically skipping away, out of their hair and into someone elses.

".. What a weird man." She says, watching him go. "Indeed..."

[callahanisms]

pretentious(?) cinephile patrick zweig.

call it a college au i guess

technically, he's a business student. he's just minoring in cinema studies, which was your major. you always hated the business school kids that came into your literature class (because film is literature) and thought it would be easy. and then they'd be surprised that they were failing because they didn't do the readings and when they participated, it was with shallow commentary. you don't even want to recount how many racist, misogynistic, queerphobic things were said in the class (in general too).

which is why patrick zweig pisses you off.

patrick zweig actually loves film. and unlike the other business boys, he understands that wolf of wall street is a cautionary tale.

"i wouldn't want to end up like him." he said. "doesn't mean i can't enjoy the movie."

patrick zweig actually has good taste in film. okay, maybe not "good" taste because "good" is always subjective. he's a bit of a film snob. you can't believe that he likes Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. you really hated the movie, mostly because it felt like an eternity. that might have also been because you were high watching it. sometimes weed has that effect.

at first glance, he seems like the kind of guy to dismiss foreign films because of subtitles. except you learned that he regularly consumes—and seeks out—foreign cinema. he grew up on foreign cinema.

"my dad's big into french films. that's how i started watching them." he explained to your french cinema professor.

you swear he's in every cinema studies class possible. and he recognizes you too.

"excited for this semester (y/n)? i'm looking forward to the syllabus."

now, patrick being patrick, he mostly skims the readings. rarely does he closely read. he finds himself getting distracted easily. and it's not really helpful with the multiple times you've worked with him whether it's as discussion leader or doing a group project.

there's the rare occasion you've seen patrick zweig in business class. and to say the least, he looks miserable. sometimes, he's so bored that he's doing the readings for your class.

"why don't you switch majors?" "because business school is just to appease my parents."

you don't 100% believe his answer. or maybe he's right in thinking that it will appease his parents. you're not all too knowing about his home life. you guys just have class together. until...

"wanna smoke?"

a joint before your screening. you guys were watching Spike Lee's School Daze for the race and american film class. he's never seen it. you have. maybe the colors will pop even more if you took a hit.

"sure."

so you guys find the smoke corner and light the joint. you inhale and make small talk. patrick zweig isn't the asshole he seems to be. he carries himself with such douchebaggery that it seems to be a defense mechanism. and you learn during that smoking session that he isn't really pretentious. he's just really passionate.

"i hate Prometheus." he says. "what? how can you hate Prometheus? Prometheus is so good! it's like right up your alley!" you cough as you inhale. "listen, i may be a film snob. and sometimes i can be an asshole about it. but ridley scott is a bigger asshole than me." patrick takes the joint to inhale. when he blows, the smoke sort of billows around him. it frames his frankly gorgeous face. "lean into the haunted house of the Alien franchise. don't try to turn it into something deeper when it already had such interesting themes."

School Daze was a watch. patrick had a lot of thoughts, but he seemed to barely express them in class. he saved it for his letterboxd review.

"you have letterboxd?" "duh." he glances at you as you guys are walking to the bus stop. "what's your username?" "ppzweig." "you can't be serious. that's so immature of you!" but also so on brand for patrick zweig. "i made the account a long time ago okay! i'll follow you back if you follow me."

so you do follow him.

you learn quickly that patrick reviews for nearly every movie he watches. the exception are rewatches (if there isn't anything left to say) and films that just didn't really interest him or were terrible. oh and you see through his reviews that he really hates tarantino. actually very surprising! patrick always had something to say though. you loved terrorizing him when he walked into class.

"hey so why did you rate Alien: Resurrection four stars?" "what happened to hello? how are you?"

side note: i did make a top 10 list of films that i think patrick would have. idk how character accurate this is but he strikes me as such:

Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975)

Trainspotting (1996)

Night of the Hunter (1955)

Citizen Kane (1941)

Amélie (2001)

A Clockwork Orange (1972)

Boogie Nights (1997)

Taxi Driver (1976)

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)

Lady Snowblood (1973)

[spacebagfullofstars]

Evolution X-Men meeting Deadpool for the first time

An idea for the first episode Deadpool would appear in the show. It'd take place during early season 2. I don't have enough ideas to write the whole thing but here's the introduction

After the Brotherhood fled and the old warehouse was empty once more, the X-Men could finally focus on their unexpected guest. Through the darkness where he stood, they could see him sheathing his katanas and stretching his arms.

"Phiii-ew! Nothing like a good workout after a mind-numbingly boring sail home!" He said, rolling his neck and shoulders. "Warms my cold, unfeeling heart to see the streets just as crime-infested as I left them!"

After a second, the man stepped towards them and into the light. The younger members of the X-Men couldn't help, but gasp when he revealed himself to them.

The person who joined their fight was wearing a red and black costume that covered his whole body, including his face. Outside of the twin katanas on his back, he had two gun pouches attached to the sides of a multi-pocketed belt. His white eyes stared at them with unclear intent.

"You?!" While Kitty, Rogue and Kurt were intimidated by his presence, Scott and Jean stood their ground. They appeared to be more disgusted than afraid. Surprisingly, the man seemed to recognise them as well.

"Jeanie! Scottie! Long time no see! Come here and give uncle Deadpool a hug!" He said, spreading his arms. Before he ran at them, Jean used her powers to throw him into the air. His enthusiasm faltered.

"Cold. I guess you don't want all the radical gifts I bough you abroad!" He said, starting to levitate upside down. "Do kids these days still say it? Do they say 'radical'? I hate that word. I hope it'll die out quickly."

"You know this weirdo?" Kitty whispered to them.

"He calls himself Deadpool." Jean stated. "He used to break into the Institute regularly."

"That's all you have to say about little ol' me?" Deadpool interrupted, then traced a line from his eye down his cheek. "You can't see it, but I just shed a sad tear. I thought we were friends."

"We're not-"

"As (I'm pretty sure) my pop used to say, if you want something done right, do it yourself!" The mercenary clapped his hands, interrupting her again. He kicked his legs and pushed himself back up so he could face them properly.

"I go by many names! Deadpool is one, but some prefer to call me the Merc with the Mouth!" He stated, pointing his thumbs at himself. "The world-famous mercenary willing to do any kind of job for a good pay, weapon expert, master of all known fighting styles and three times Champion of Hot Dog Eating in West Virginia! This city used to belong to me, but the merc job is unforgiving and I had to leave it for like twenty years!"

"We haven't seen you in two years." Scott corrected.

"It felt like twenty to me, so it must've been! Now I come back and see that you X-Dorks grew in numbers!" Deadpool continued, then crossed his arms and looked away. "Not that I'm bitter, or anything. I can do so much better than your little rich kid houseclub anyway."

"... Wait, he was an X-Man?!" Rouge asked, baffled.

"Professor tried giving him a chance once." Jean sighed. "He almost blew up the mansion."

"Like that old thing doesn't blow up every other week, am I right, guys?" Deadpool snorted and rose his hand. Outside of the distance between them, no one was willing to give him a high five. He waited a few more seconds and then high fived himself.

"Is it bad that he kinda reminds me of Kurt when he has too much sugar?" Kitty snickered.

"Don't even joke like that!" Kurt didn't like that.

"The only difference is that Kurt isn't..." Scott began, then whistled and swirled his finger around the side of his head.

"I believe the term you're looking for is 'able to think outside the box', three eyes." Deadpool overheard them and air quoted. Without any warning, he disappeared in a small flash of energy.

"What the-?!" Kurt cried out as they all stepped back in surprise. After a second, the mercenary reappeared behind them.

"And who those adorable new faces might be?" His voice startled them all. "No, no, don't tell me! You look like Jessica," He said, pointing at surprised Kitty. "Your super power is shrinking. You look like Bridget and you love being different!" He pointed at Rogue, making her scoff at him. "And you look like Elvis! You have an eternal bad hair day!" He said, pointing at Kurt.

"What?" The blue boy squinted.

"Deadpool, stay away from them!" Scott warned, flashing his visor in readiness. "Whatever you came here for, you're not getting it from us!"

"Look at you all grown up and shouting orders like a boss man! Relax, kid, I have no quarrel with you today. I just wanted to catch up and meet new people! Speaking of..." Deadpool said, then reloaded his gun that he suddenly grabbed. Something darkened in his eyes. "Where's Wolverine?"

The other X-Men could see Jean and Scott getting tense. It seemed that despite their distate, they were scared of the man after all.

Suddenly, Deadpool seemed to hear something and his head perked up a bit. They could almost see a smirk forming on his face.

"Right on the clock." He mused. He spun his gun in his hand, then without any warning, whipped back and fired a single shot.

Wolverine had entered the warehouse and managed to sneak behind them. He quickly released his claws and slashed the bullet mid-air. Before other X-Men could stop him, Deadpool switched, pulled out his katanas and teleported again. He reappeared right in front of Logan and took a swing at him. His weapons and the mutant's claws clashed.

"Kurt, get everyone outta here!" The X-Man shouted. The boy nodded. The kids came closer and he teleported them away, leaving the two alone.

"I had a feelin' I smelled a rottin' brain somewhere!" Wolverine growled.

"You're the one to talk, dog-breath!" Deadpool retorted, trying to slash him again. Wolverine blocked him. "Dog, or bear, or some other animal that smells bad! I don't want to say badger, because I feel like I'd be beating a dead horse at this point-"

"I miss the silence already!" Logan said. He roared and tried to throw a punch.

Meanwhile, the group reappeared outside.

"What does this Deadpool guy want with Logan?!" Rouge couldn't help, but grow concerned.

"They have... history." Scott explained. "I'm pretty sure they hate each other."

"Like he and Sabertooth?" Kitty asked.

"Honestly? We have no idea." Jean admitted. "It's best to just stay out of the way and let Logan handle it. He always does."

As soon as she said that, they heard an explosion that made them jump. Suddenly, Wolverine fell out of a window with a trail of smoke following him. Deadpool jumped after him and skilfully landed on the ground. When he stood up, the kids saw that he was holding a bomb with his face painted on it.

"He has explosives?!" Kurt shouted, tugging his hair. Logan returned on his feet, smoke from the explosion still dancing on his body.

"I thought you were done takin' bounties on me!" He shouted.

"I am, but it's an emergency!" Deadpool said, throwing the bomb from hand to hand. "I need this money more than I need food and water!"

"A sellout through and through!" Wolverine said, then charged back. Deadpool let him get close, teleported, and then tried to throw a bomb at him from the distance. Logan kicked it right into the ocean and it exploded in the water.

The mercenary quickly switched back to his katanas and charged with full force at his opponent. There was a lot of slashing, dodging and rolling involved. Neither of them managed to reach each other for a good while. Finally, Wolverine used an opportunity to pin Deadpool to the ground with one arm behind his back.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" He cried. "That's foul play! You're disqualified for being a bad sport!"

"Cry me a river, Wilson." Logan tsked. "Whoever hired you must've not known that you always lose to me."

"Yeah. That might be true." The mercenary said, another almost visible smirk appearing on his face. Little did Wolverine know, his free arm was trying to reach for a hidden pocket in his costume. "By the way, don't think that I forgot to bring a souvenir or two for my bestest friend. Why don't you let me go so I can show it to you?"

"I ain't lettin' you go that easily, bub. You're gonna tell me exactly who sent you and what kinda money made you break your promise."

"Oh, I love to talk! Especially with you!" He quietly unzipped the pocket and reached inside. "But you know I can't talk about my employers. Merc 101. Buuuut, I can tell you all about the crazy places I've been to for the past two years! I learned like three different languages! Do you want me to say something in Chinese?"

"If you're tryin' to make me angry, it ain't gonna work. We've been doin' this song and dance long enough for me to know when you're lookin' for a distraction."

"Awww, you care about me enough to know my strategy! You so deserve that little treat I bought you!"

"Logan, look out!" Rouge shouted, but she was too late. Logan felt a sharp sting in his leg. He gasped and quickly pushed himself off Deadpool. He looked down and saw a dart sticking from his thigh. The X-Men were ready to intervene.

"Do not get involved!" Logan snarled, sensing their intent. His head was already beginning to spin.

"Yeah, you better listen to Papa Wolvie! This is between us adults!" Deadpool shouted, looking at them as well. The mutant suddenly fell to his knees, trying to fight whatever Deadpool injected into him, but it seemed stronger than his healing factor. His eyes started feeling heavy, and finally, he fell lifelessly on the ground.

"Logan!" The kids yelled. Jean was already floating whatever she could to throw at Deadpool.

"Don't worry, X-Kids! I promise to give him back as soon as I get my money! Follow your dreams and stay in school!" Deadpool gave them a peace sign before he kneeled in front of Wolverine and teleported away with him.

[bcacstuff]

Bonjour ,je viens de voir une fan qui l'aurait rencontrer je pense hier je ne suis pas sûr 😊

Translation: Hello, I just saw a fan who I think met him yesterday, I'm not sure 😊

After a little DM convo I found the video on TikTok, the woman speaks Portuguese (I think), I can't understand a thing. Tinou however told me she could understand he was at a restaurant in Glasgow with 2 men 🤷‍♀️ It could very well be yesterday or this weekend, the video was posted yesterday, 25 August

Perhaps some here speak her language and can tell me what the fan is talking about. (you can DM me or leave it in the comments) TIA

Here's the full video

Update, someone typed out the translation, this is the summary

She's married to a Scott and lives in Glasgow Scotland. She talks about celebs that live(d) there as well, like Hagrid from Harry Potter. People are used to seeing a celeb, Her father in law often takes her and her husband out for dinner, to catch up on things. In this case, today he suggested to go to a smaller restaurant in the neighborhood so it won't be too busy or noisy. As she arrived she looked to the side and saw Sam Heughan, who plays Jamie Fraser. He was having a good time with what seems to her family, a father or uncle. He was with 2 men, normal people. She saw how several people were talking about him, recognizing him, but nobody wanted to disturb him. The fans family in law had no idea who he was and she explained to them it is someone she would like to have a picture with, as he plays a role in her favorite tv show, which also triggered her interest in Scotland. When she left, she left the restaurant at the same time Sam left, and she asked if she could have a picture with him, she excused herself for bothering him also because it rained. But he was wearing a hat. She said she always joked about being Brazilian and was saying to her mother in law just last week that if she would met a celeb it would be Jamie Fraser.

So she did meet him Sunday 25 August in Glasgow with 2 (male) friends or family. The pic is taken on Sauchiehall Street in front of the Ox and Finch restaurant

Another update, she posted on IG as well,

Posted 25 + 26 August 2024

[mommaudders12]

Here's something a little new. How about a wolverine x reader! Why not!? This one was written for a friend!

Logan/wolverine x reader

NSFW!!! No one under 18, plez.

Warnings: public s3x, s3x in general, casually funny smut

You've been invited to go out to eat with a few of the x men crew! Who knew Logan had such a good sense of smell, though?

You're not sure how, but you've managed to get yourself befriended by a few x men. One thing led to another at a pizza joint with a claw machine and a specific red and white haired mutant, and now you're an honorary x men... minus being a mutant. You just like hanging out with them when they're free. Kurt even invited you to dinner with them tonight! Your phone is pinging and buzzing from the group chat being blown up from Jean and Scott arguing over which restaurant to go to.

Jean: you know, it's been a while since we've been to a Japanese steakhouse.

Scott: the last time we went to a steakhouse, I got salmonella!

Jean: who in their right mind asks for their shrimp to be raw?

Scott: everything else on the sushi bar is raw!

Your eyes roll while you type out a message to the group chat.

You: ok, yall, what about applebees.... or Texas roadhouse. I've seen Kurt absolutely destroy some baskets of bread from roadhouse.

Kurt: ich mag brot 🤤

You let out a chortle at his quick response. That boy does like some bread.

After a bit of arguing and a few more ridiculous remarks from Scott, everyone decided on the tex-Mex joint down the street. They also have a very nice bar with beer on tap and an endless selection of mixers. Who doesn't like a tall glass of Corona and unlimited chips and salsa! You have around two hours to relax and slowly get ready until you have to meet them there. The closet door creaks as you open it to find a cute outfit. The restaurant isnt fancy, but you still would like to look nice.

A corset tie in the back baby blue sundress catches your eye, so you snatch it and kick through the pile of shoes at your feet to find the white flats that you normally wear with it. Now the question is- steak quesadilla or Supreme nachos?

By the time you get to the restaurant, everyone had already been seated. Guess it does take longer than ten minutes to get there.... woops. You shuffle over to the group and plop down in the chair next to Logan. He gives you a once over and nods before taking a swig of his drink.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm a little late! I forgot how far away this place was."

"No problem, hun, we just sat down. Glad you're here!" Jean lifts her glass of freshly poured water in your direction as she speaks.

They had already brought out drinks and a basket of chips and salsa. You know she was just saying that to make you feel better. You hang your purse on the back of your chair and adjust your sun dress at the top where the fabric had bunched up from sitting. From the corner of your eye, you see Logan slightly Watching your every move from over his drink.

"I saw on the news yesterday what happened at that barn. I can't believe they had five mutants hidden there! I didn't even know mutants could be half animal like that!"

Kurt lifts his finger to politely intervene.

"There are many types of mutants. For instance, I am... vell, demon. Logan has animalistic tendencies, hank is-"

You listen intently as your slim, blue friend goes on about different types of mutants. Very intrigued, you lift a leg up to cross it over the other while leaning into the table to prop your elbows against it. Logan lifts his head from his glass and seems to freeze in place as his nose twitches. He clears his throat and adjusts in his chair, almost leaning back and sinking into it.

"- mutations can even be passes down and intermingled together from breeding as vell! Say an animal type mutant made child with a-"

"Ooook, I think we get the point, Kurt, thank you." Scott interrupts.

By that time, the waiter has come to take everyone's order. You completely forgot about going over the menu. You quickly grab the menu and scan over it while the others place their orders.

"Nothin' for me." Logan waves his hand and beings his drink back up to his lips, seemingly attempting to keep himself distracted.

"And you, miss?"

Eenie meanie miney- THIS ONE.

"Uuuuh may I have the.... Supreme burrito? Extra green peppers, no beans-"

You lean in to the waiter pointing to something on the menu, dropping your crossed leg to the floor, legs slightly apart to keep you balanced while you lean. You hear Logan let in a few soft inhales as well as huff. He turns his head away from the group and clears his throat before adjusting again in his seat.

"Oh! And extra sour cream too, please!"

The waiter finishes scribbling in his notepad before making his way back to the kitchen. You slide yourself back into your chair from half cheeking it to talk to the waiter.  Your skirt is a little bunched up so you sit up a little bit and adjust it along with fixing your rolled up thong straps on your hips.

"Ey, Logan, you good bud?" Scott cocks an eye in Logans direction, motioning with his glass of sweet tea.

Logan just grunts, taking another large swig of whatever type of IPA he was drinking. He runs his hand across his sideburns and down to his chin before covering his mouth with his hand. His eyes are so dilated that they seem to be black holes in the sockets. His large boot taps gently on the wooden floor just enough to catch your attention. You look down at his foot and see his other hand having a death grip on his knee, almost to keep it from wondering. The veins in his arms seem to throb from under his rolled up flannel sleeves. Why is that kind of hot, though? Your cheeks flush slightly seeing him in that fashion. The conversation around you begins to fade as you watch Logan intently.

Every move you make draws a new movement from Logan, making his slowly come undone- and you have caught on. He is slowly losing his mind because of you. You have had your eyes on the weasel man for a while, so might as well have some fun, right? Starting slowly, you put one hand on your leg and draw it up, bringing the skirt with it until the hem of your dress is almost touching right below your panties. Doing so causes logans breath to hitch, grabbing at his belt area to readjust. Bro is bricked up! You can see the outline of his member along his jeans. You tighten your legs as a heat builds in your neithers watching Logan come undone surrounded by your closest friends- and they are all oblivious as to what is happening. You will be surprised if the chair you are sitting in isn't soaked by the time you stand up.

The chatter continues as you keep edging Logan on in secret. Adjusting your leg, you uncross them and spread your knees apart, biting your lip. A fist hits the table, causing the cups to jump and Kurt to choke on a salsa covered chip.

"JESUS- Logan, the hell is your problem today!?" Scott scolds Logan while slapping Kurt's back attempting to get the lodged chip out if his esophagus.

With a snarl, Logan stands up with his empty mega pint and makes his way to the bar. You turn to the group and shrug. Kurt is now chugging his water after getting the chip dislodged. Guess the fun is over. But now you really have to pee.

"Be right back, don't eat my burrito if it comes before I get back!"  Getting a chuckle out of the group as you stand up.

You begin to make your way to the ladies room, taking the long way, just do you could walk past Logan one more time to get in another tease. Walking past him, you give his side a slight pinch as you walk by. A strong hand grabs your wrist, causing you to freeze. A second hand grabs your waste, pushing your stomach into the bar and pinning you in place. Logan brings his head up next to your ear.

"You... little... bitch."

Logan brings his nose to your neck and breathes in as much of your scent as he could.

"I could smell you. I could smell you as soon as you sat down. Fucking around with me while you're fertile"

Oh shit, you forgot you were ovulating. The period tracker said you were, at least. Well, shit on a brick-

"I can already smell how wet you are for me."

His large calloused hand made his way from your hand down to your thigh, tugging at your skirt.

"Wait, Logan, i-"

 

The grip on your side tightens as he pushes you against the bar, leg between your leg to keep you pinned.

"Sssshshsh. Too late for negotiations, bub. I'm gonna fuck you into this damn bar. Buttering me up, in front of the others, wearing this little dress?"

The hand on your skirt begins bunching at the hem, bringing it up just below your ass.

"Logan, there's people, we cant-"

Don't lie to yourself, you want this. You're a slut. Ya know what, time to play.

Logan growls into your neck doing his absolute best to not burst in his pants. You smirk to yourself and bend over the counter a little more, making your ass scuff against his hardened length in his pants.

"Butter you up? I don't know what you're talking about~"

You stand up on your toes to try to line up to him, still pretending to be oblivious. Logan growls into your ear, giving a slight nip.

"You're such a little whore. Acting all clueless when I know damn well you want your pussy pounded into this bar in front of all of these people-"

You chuckle to yourself, feeling Logan hurrily bunch up your skirt higher, exposing your ass. He leans back while still holding onto your hip to get a look at you. A low rumble in his chest eminates from him as he brings a large hand down and grabs a handful of your ass.

"Of course you would be wearing these little panties just for me-"

I mean, not really, they were cute but just roll with it! Stay in character!

"Oh this is so embarrassing, everyone is going to see~"

He leans back into you and whispers in your ear.

"You better keep quiet. Shut the fuck up and take it-"

"Ma'am did you want to order something?"

Your eyes shoot up to see a very oblivious barista that just got back from his break.

"Oh! Uh... im-"

Logan stands up straight, still with a fistful of your skirt in his hand.

"Gimme a shot of grey goose."

He sounds so stoic.

"What about you, princess?"

You can feel a smirk spread across his lips as he leans against the bar beside you, still latched onto your skirt allowing your bare ass to be open to whoever is seated behind you.

"I... um... I'm not-"

You feel the hand holding your skirt up drop the hem while sliding along your hip to your front, slinking along your panty line above your pubic bone. Your breath hitches as you look at the mixer menu. You pretend to scan over the menu as a large hand slides under your panties and starts drawing circles around your clit. Logan, with his shit eating grin, leans further onto the bar to make eye contact with you.

"Go on, bub, tell the man what you'd like~"

Your knees buckle as he hits just the right spot, drawing an 'ah' out of you.

"Aah- aaaaiiiii would like a- nnh- tequila sunrise p-please."

The barista cocks an eyebrow at you, shrugs, and walks away to make your drink. Logan chortles and makes his way back behind you still rubbing circles on your clit. His hand dips down to his belt, unbuckling it with one hand and sliding his jeans down just far enough to let his member bounce out, hitting his stomach with a thwack.

"Here's the goose-"

The barista sets the glass down on the table beside you. He goes back to his cabinet to start on your drink.

You can practically feel logans heart pounding from behind you as he uses your slick to coat his cock and line up with your pussy. He slides into you slowly as the barista comes back with your drink.

"And the tequila sunrise. Let me know if you need anything else."

You give him a thumbs up as he walks away.

"Go on, drink your fruity little drink."

His voice had a hint of a mocking tone. He picks up his shot and throws it back before slapping it back on the counter. You pick up your drink and go to take a sip when he bucks into you, causing a little to splash on the table.

"Ah fuck-"

You exclaimed. Both from spilling your drink and from being surprise drilled by logans massive crank.

"Sssshshsh. Wouldn't want anyone to hear, now would we? Just drink your drink and be a good little slut-"

You nod and attempt to act casual while Logan pumps into you. With a mix of lip biting and drink sipping, you finally finish your drink. Logan gives you one hard thrust, causing you to drop the glass and let out a rather loud 'ah'

"Ah, Logan!"

The burning in your nethers begins to become too much for you to take. You lean farther over the bar, almost lifting yourself off the ground.

"Thaaats it, atta girl. Let me use you."

You two aren't trying to hide it anymore. By this time your little sun dress is hikes up above your hips and your slick drips onto the ground while Logan thrusts into you like a dog in heat. Logan catches the eye of a group of men in the corner, elbowing eachother and motioning to the two of you. With a snarl and growl, Logan unsheaths his adimantium claws with a shck, causing the group of men to go silent. Seeing the men watching the two of you sends Logan into a territorial rage. You're his game now, you belong to him and no one else. He grabs onto a handful of hair and pulls back forcing you to look up at him.

"Fuck being quiet. I want this whole damn bar to know that you belong to me-"

"Wait, but, Lo- Ah!"

One hard thrust takes your breath away, pulling your thoughts along with it.

"You heard me, slut, now say my name. Say the name of the one you belong to."

He uses your hair to pull you back onto his throbbing cock, drawing more ah ah ahs out of you.

"Ah! Aaah, Logan-"

"Yes, that's my girl, louder"

"Logan!"

His thrusts begin to grow sloppy as he reaches a climax. The ruckus of the bar is drowned out by your squeals and one by one, the bar patrons turn to look.

"Oh god, I'm so close! I'm gonna-"

Logan latches on to your neck with his canines as he ruts sloppily into you before letting his load go into your womb. Both of your slick mix together inside of you and slides down your leg onto the hard wood floor. Both of you huff and puff, attempting to catch your breath while the few people that had been watching you turn back around, besides the older gentleman in the corner who starts to clap and holler "encore!"

With one last huff and a firm slap to the ass, Logan slides out of you and slips his member into his pants in a single motion. Your skirt falls messily back into place as you slide off of the bar onto your shakey feet, slick seeping down your leg and onto your slides.

Logan turns you around by your shoulders and moves your stray hairs out of your face and behind your ear. He pulls you into himself and snarls as the barista walks back up to your side of the bar.

"Soooo uh.... sorry to cut in, but... would you like to close your tab?"

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Cube anon here with a silly little idea for if Bat!Reader was in an Omegaverse au

They're a feisty little beta who's constantly doing their damn best to ignore others trying to take them in because Bat!Reader would much rather live their life as a lone street rat thank you very much(the only person who probably got remotely close enough to getting Bat!Reader to go into their instincts before the X-Men met them was most likely Gambit- not that Bat!Reader will ever admit)

That's all I got toodles :]

Haha!

Gambit basically adopted them as his feral little sibling, partially because they stopped someone from robbing him in his sleep (amd not at all influenced by losing a fight to this feral lonely bat child, what is he, a saint?) He likes that Reader has guts and is such a fierce bitey bat child, one he can rely on to scare away most of his enemies. He of course does not initially like the X-Men trying to adopt them. Nor the Brotherhood trying to adopt them. Or even his group, the Acolytes, trying to adopt them. Sorry. No, no, and no. That little rabid bebe is HIS rabid fuzzy bebe, so everyone can focus on their own family and NOT steal his!

(Yeah. That only makes the teens want Reader more, especially if the teen in question had a grudge against Gambit. Reader just accepts fruit and blood from anyone who readily gives it, intentions or morals or trustworthiness be d*rned. And if Morph is here, because why not, they are snagging Reader for themself! That is THEIR emotional support child, thank you very much! And they need proper love and care, so no nosy teenagers or horrible parents figures! If they have to, they can maybe ... steal... Logan for a bit, if they need an extra surly, grumpy, secretly-loving parents figure!)

(I am watching through the complete season of X-Men 97, and wow. Just, wow. The potential for dark aus, everyone! Scott being a dad to Cable! Morph being so funny and Morph! Jubilee and Roberto being cute friends! Magneto being right, sweet heavens that was rough- You get the picture. It has great potential, can't wait for season 2, and yes, I'm making a Dark AU for it, ASAP~!)

[jadefromwattpad]

Scott Street

Parings: Poe Dameron x Reader

Poe stands in front of you, looking everywhere but your eyes. Your jaw clenches. A part of you wants him to be a man and look you in the eyes. Another part of you gets it entirely.

He had known from the first day you arrived--a wild glint in your eyes and a thirst to prove yourself--that you wouldn't settle. But god, he had hoped you'd settle for him. He had prayed he'd be enough. So here he stands now, a foot away from you yet unreachable.

"Poe." It was stern, like he expected. "Poe?" This one was soft, which is unexpected. Unexpected enough that he finally meets your eye.

And here you are, breaking his fucking heart--tearing it out of his chest, holding it carelessly as it bleeds in your hands. And he wasn't even asking you to stay.

"Poe. Please. Say something," you sound desperate. You've never felt like this before--not with him, at least. The two of you had always seen eye to eye. Had always understood each other without words. That's how he knows you're not coming back, even if you promise. But you think that if he asked, you'd stay.

"I'm happy for you. If this is what you want, then I am so incredibly happy for you." His voice is so genuine, it makes your heart clench and twist uncomfortably. "I think you deserve the universe, you know that. So go get it." He just smiled that Poe Dameron smile. If you knew him any less, you would think he doesn't even care.

But you knew him better than he knew himself most days.

You put your hand on his arm. It's tense. "I'll stay if you ask me to."

He knows you would. He also knows you would silently resent him for it. He shakes his head slightly. His firm chin waivers, and he becomes very interested in his shoes. "You know I'd never ask you to do that."

You nod. You do know. You know him better than you know yourself. He thinks he knows you better than he knows himself, but then again he doesn't understand why. Why you're leaving him. Why he's never the first choice. Why he's not enough. Why you won't come back. He just knows you won't. He's not sure if it's thrill, or the need to prove yourself, or the fear of being in one place for too long. He has no clue why staying with him is never enough. There's always some other thrill. Some other reason you can't just be with him.

But the pilot in him understands as no one else does. Because how is he any different? He flies around into dangerous, uncharted territory. The need to prove himself is in his blood as it is yours. But I'd come back to you, he thinks.

He clears his throat, the chain around his neck branding his skin. He was going to give you that ring, now he fears he'll never get to. But he's a realistic man. He knows the ring has belonged to you since you challenged him in the X-wings on your first day. He knows it'll belong to you long after you're gone, just as it did long before you came. So, with shaking hands, he lifts the necklace over his head and places it in your hand, cupping his around yours.

His heart pangs. This may be the last time he feels your hands.

You stare up at him, shock painting your features. "Poe..." You're at a loss of words. You feel like you've only said his name throughout the entire exchange because you just don't quite know what else to say. "This is your mother's. I can't-"

His warm hand is still on yours and your chest still leaps like its the first time he's ever touched you. Like you haven't explored each other's bodies and mapped every surface. "And now it's yours. Don't be a stranger." It's said jokingly but you can hear the desperation. He'd recognize you blind, and now he fears it's his last chance to stare into your eyes.

He places a kiss on your forehead, and you close your eyes on instinct. When you open them, you only see his retreating figure.

Bile builds in your throat. What had you expected? I expected him to ask me to stay, you think. I would've stayed if he asked.

Ring clenched in your fist, you turn to your X-wing and climb into the cock pit.

[vishantidreams]

✨Doctor Stephen Strange headcanons✨

Inspired by @wadewnstonwilson

(This applies to the MCU, Avengers Campus, and the comics)

He's specifically a scotch drinker. He has a vast collection of liquors, but really only ever drinks scotch. Occasionally you'll catch him drinking a vodka red bull because it reminds him of his med school days.

His hands shake too much to the point where he can't cook his own food (this is sometimes canon in the comics), so he orders mostly take out if Wong, Clea, or Zelma aren't around to help with meals.

Pansexual. That's all I need to say.

He has a mutual, respectful relationship with Dracula. Sort of like his relationship with Doctor Doom. He understands that this man is his enemy on occasion, but he respects the hell out of him.

He hates spending time at the Campus. He really only sees it as an obligation with the California Sanctum being there. But he secretly loves the sweet drinks at Pym's.

He loves to watch the Dora Milaje training practices at the Campus. And may or may not have a crush on one of them.

Scott Lang wants so badly to be the master of the California Sanctum, and Stephen keeps telling him "no, card tricks don't count as the mystic arts".

Him and Tony absolutely do not get along, but they make each other laugh from time to time.

He smokes cigarettes every now and then. Mostly when he's in his street clothes and relaxing.

He loves his brother Victor dearly, and it's probably the only reason he has sympathy towards vampires.

That's all I can really think of for now!

[autistic-fandom-trash]

Flower Ranchers Incorrect Quotes (partially based on this one fanfic i'm reading)

Jimmy, to Scott: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Tango, from behind him: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

-----

Tango: So, what, now I'm just supposed to do anything that Scott does? I mean, what if he jumped off a cliff?

Jimmy: If Scott were to jump off a cliff, he would’ve done his due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Scott jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.

Tango: You jump off a cliff!

Jimmy: Gladly, provided Scott did first.

-----

Scott: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life.

Tango: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Scott: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Jimmy: Edible.

-----

Scott: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Tango?

Tango: No.

Jimmy: I do!

Scott: I know, Jimmy.

Jimmy: I'm sad!

Scott: I know, jimmy.

-----

Scott, knowing the answer: Jimmy, what do IDK, LY, and TTYL mean?

Jimmy: I don't know, love you, talk to you later.

Scott: Okay, love you too, I'll just ask Tango.

-----

Scott: I trust Jimmy.

Tango: So you think he knows what he's doing?

Scott: I wouldn't go that far.

-----

Jimmy: HELP! I TOLD SCOTT I'D MAKE DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK!

Tango, pouring milk directly into a cereal box: And you thought I could help with that?

-----

Tango: What's a word that's a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Scott: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Jimmy: Smad.

-----

Jimmy: Tango and I were crossing the street and this random guy honked at us-

Scott, sighing: What did Tango do?

Jimmy: He chased them to the next red light, then reached in their window and-

Tango: Who wants a steering wheel?

-----

Scott: We need to get through this locked door. Jimmy, give me your credit card.

Jimmy: Here.

Scott, pocketing it: Thanks. Tango, kick the door down.

-----

Tango, holding a python: Guys, I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him?

Scott: You did WHAT-

Jimmy: William Snakepeare.