#to keep up when allison talks about it

[letthestorieslive]

[nettedtangible]

An idea I love is when the Foxes become a more well-respected team in the league, Wymack starts talking to them about being “role models” and that they have all these young fans now who look up to them. And Neil is just horrified.

Then the Exy league organises this like, pre-game warm up meet and greet thing where they do some drills and games with the kids of the local teams in the area.

Everyone expects to have to keep Andrew away from the kids but he’s actually fantastic with them. He’s blunt and honest but he does try very hard and they absolutely love him.

Neil spends the entire time running away from the children and hiding behind Wymack (he tried hiding behind Andrew but Andrew was actually getting along with the little demons)

Kevin hates it but the kids LOVE him, they think it’s hilarious how grumpy and angry he gets and they keep falling over themselves laughing anytime he yells. They keep asking him to “do the grumpy voice” he starts yelling in French and they think it’s just about the funniest thing that’s ever happened.

Dan and Renee are keeping the whole thing on track, actually running through the drills and teaching the kids with endless patience. Dan has a little mini me girl who’s like 10 and the captain of her team and just wants to be Dan so bad so Dan gives her a whistle and she’s just shadowing her all day, blowing her whistle whenever Dan tries to get someone’s attention.

Aaron and Allison hang back and only very reluctantly interact with the children.

Matt is the equivalent of a climbing gym. He has about 4 children hanging off various limbs at any given time and a little 6 year old has taken up permanent residence on his shoulders.

Nicky loooves it and teaches the kids all of bad words and gets them to play pranks on Kevin- which results in Kevin yelling at him and he and the kids falling over laughing.

One child seems to be really isolated and quiet. Neil sits with this kid so Wymack will stop yelling at him to get involved. They don’t talk at all but Neil gives the kid some gum and the kid manages a little smile.

Part 2

[theplotdemandsit]

When Five finally makes it back home with his siblings, finally makes it back to the right timeline, he finds he’s still holding his breath. 

“Is it really over?” He thinks out loud. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” comes Luther’s response. 

So they do. And everything seems…normal?

But as much as Five wants to sleep for ten days straight, he can’t help but feel on edge. He spends his time visiting each sibling, popping in for dinners or briefly making sure they haven’t felt anything out of the ordinary. One day Allison asks him if he actually wants there to be an approaching apocalypse. His eyes fall onto Claire who’s catching him up on High School Musical the Musical the Series.

“No,” he answers. “I really don’t.” 

They make time for family dinners every Sunday. They still bicker and maybe swing some fists every now and then, but everyone is fast to apologize and laugh again. With room to breathe again without high stakes, the hurt finally begins to heal. They had been family before, but it slowly begins to feel like a real family. 

And for the first time, they really get to know each other. For all the crap they gave Luther about the moon, they listen as he shares the misery and loneliness and betrayal he felt. Allison describes her time as a Black woman in the 60s without her voice. Literally. Viktor tells them about what it was like growing up powerless only to end the world twice. How he lost his memory and found the one he loved only to lose that too. 

Klaus manifests Ben (who is still a ghost but as alive as he could get) and together they tell of their adventures growing up and the cult Klaus accidentally created. In between laughs, they also learn about Klaus’s harrowing experiences with drugs and death.

And Five? He has over 40 years of stories, and at first he doesn’t want to share any of it. His time in the Apocalypse, his time in the Commission, murdering for the sole purpose of survival in order to get back to his family—it’s not a side to him he wants his family to know about. 

But at the same time for reasons he can’t explain, he does want them to know. For the first time, he wants to talk to his family, the family he worked tirelessly to save. 

Little by little, he does just that. Every now and then he will start a sentence with, “Back in the Apocalypse…,” during dinner or his visits with them. Silly ones at first, like the time he had the nasty Twinkie. The time he sang all the Beatles songs he could remember and pretended he was having a concert. The time he found Umbrella Academy action figures and reenacted missions with them. 

When it’s just him and another sibling, he starts sharing some of the hard stuff too.

He tells Allison how he starved during his first winter alone and hallucinated that she had helped him find food. When he woke up he found himself in a storage house full of canned goods and bawled his eyes out.

He tells Diego about the first time he killed someone. How the scariest thing was that he wasn’t shaking. 

He tells Viktor how he sometimes still wonders if he deserves everything he got for messing with time in the first place. How he’s afraid that one of these days he’ll wake up and be alone again.

He tells Klaus about the time he thought about giving up and ending it all. 

He tells Luther about Dolores. About how even though he knew he was crazy for talking to a mannequin, Dolores was the better part of him that salvaged his sanity.

He tells Ben (and Klaus, by default) that his biggest regret is not being there. That he tries not to think about how things might have been different if he’d stayed.

Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, the tension eases from his shoulders. He stops worrying so much about the world ending and how to keep everyone alive. Instead, he spends his time going to the park with Claire, helping Diego and Lila with the babies, having midnight food outings with Klaus, and listening to Viktor play his music.

At their weekly family dinner, Luther tells Five he has a present for him and pulls out a box of Twinkies, saying, “I know you want to try one.”

Five gives him a practiced glare and says, “I would rather swim in a pot of boiling oil.”

Before, his family might have stared at him like he grew two heads, but now they laugh and think his retort is hilarious. Luther opens the box and pulls out a bag of marshmallows instead, and Five can’t help but crack a smile. 

One day they ask him what his plans are—what’s next for the oldest sibling.

Five warms his hands on a hot mug of coffee. “I’m tired of thinking about the future,” he tells them. “Right now, I just want to spend time with my family.”

That earns him plenty of “aww”s and “You’re such a softie, Five.” He waves them away and tries to duck out of their hugs, but they get him in the end. And even if he could teleport, he doesn’t want to.

He hadn’t been looking for happy, but he found it anyway.

Now cross-posted on Ao3 under the same handle!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Any advice for figuring out how to work on writing characters arguing?

I’m just curious and also I mistakenly derailed part of my writing over struggling to write a scene of characters starting an argument that was meant to escalate.

Writing Notes: Arguments

Arguing is full of tension.

Even benign conversations between friends so often belies subtextual personal agendas that are antagonistic or covertly full of anger or upset.

Honesty itself sometimes is the product of extreme tension and upset.

One’s resistance to telling the truth to another or admitting to oneself a truth can be excruciatingly tense and stressful, even between lovers.

SIDESTEPPING

You instantly create conflict in dialogue when you avoid “on the nose” responses.

On the nose means a direct response, sometimes even echoing the previous line.

You can avoid direct response:

With a statement that is unrelated to the prompting dialogue

By answering a question with a question

With a line of dialogue that is going to need some explanation

Also consider using silence:

“Are you ready to go, dear?” Bob asked. Sylvia said nothing.

Or use an action response:

“Are you ready to go, dear?” Bob asked. Sylvia picked up the mirror.

OPPOSING AGENDAS

Always know what each character wants in a given scene.

If a character in a scene is just taking up space, give him an agenda or get him out of there. Or cut the scene entirely.

Scenes require conflict or tension, even if it’s subtle.

Before you write the scene, note what each character wants.

Then spend a few moments playing with those motivations.

List 3 other possible motives for each of the characters, then mix and match to decide which ones will make for the best conflict.

It is also important to create tension among allies.

One of the danger points in fiction is when two friends, or people who are at least on the same side, have a talk about what’s going on. The trouble is there might not be any trouble between them. So much of the dialogue becomes a friendly chat.

This will violate Alfred Hitchcock’s axiom (Hitchcock once said that a good story is “life, with the dull parts taken out.”).

The fastest way to handle it is to make sure there is tension manifested from the start.

Create tension in at least one of the characters, preferably the viewpoint character.

Example: When you have Allison meeting Melissa, her college friend, for coffee, don’t have them sit down and start talking as if nothing’s wrong in the world. Put the trouble of the story into Allison’s mind and nervous system and make it an impediment to her conversation with Melissa. In Melissa, place something that might be in opposition to Allison’s needs. Allison needs to ask Melissa’s advice about a crumbling marriage. Maybe Melissa is full of news about her sister’s impending wedding to a wonderful man and gushes about the prospects.

Spend some time brainstorming about the ways two friends or allies can be at odds. Then weave those things into the dialogue.

DIALOGUE AS WEAPON

Look for places where you can use dialogue as a weapon, a means for your characters to charge ahead in order to get what they want.

Keep in mind that dialogue is action.

It’s a physical act used by characters to help them get what they want. If they don’t want anything in a scene, they shouldn’t be there.

Note that not all weapons are explosive. They can be small and sharp, too.

PARENT-ADULT-CHILD

A great tool for creating instant conflict in dialogue is the Parent-Adult-Child model, popularized in the book Games People Play by Eric Berne (1964). This school of psychology is called Transactional Analysis.

The theory holds that we tend to occupy roles in life and relationships.

The 3 primary roles are Parent, Adult, and Child (PAC):

The Parent - the seat of authority, the one who can “lay down the law.” S/he has the raw strength, from position or otherwise, to rule and then enforce his/her rulings.

The Adult - the objective one, the one who sees things rationally and is therefore the best one to analyze a situation. “Let’s be adult about this,” one might say in the midst of an argument.

The Child - not rational, and not with any real power. So what does s/he do? Reacts emotionally. Throws tantrums to try to get his/her way. Even an adult can do this. We’ve all seen clandestine videos that prove this point.

So it is a helpful thing to consider what role each character is assuming in a scene.

How do they see themselves? What is their actual role? (It may indeed be different than what they perceive it to be.)

Most important, how will they act in order to accomplish their goal in the scene?

Answering these questions can give you a way to shape your dialogue so there is constant tension and conflict throughout.

Also consider that the characters might change their roles (try something new) in order to get their way. Thus, this is a never-ending source of conflict possibilities and only takes a few moments to set up.

TIP ON DIALOGUE

Look at all of your dialogue exchanges, especially ones that run for a page or more.

Analyze what roles the characters think they’re inhabiting.

Rework the dialogue by getting each character to be more assertive in their claimed role. (Also note that a character can change roles as a matter of strategy. For example, if the Parent isn’t working, a character might switch to pouting like a Child in order to get his way.)

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Hope this helps with your writing!

[star--stilinski]

I would absolutely LOVE to request a buzzcut stiles smut omg😭

If you are comfortable and if this is not too much detail could you write something about Stiles being insecure of his buzzcut thinking it makes him unattractive but when he tells his other bsf/reader she’s like flabbergasted and tells him how hot it makes him and it makes him all cocky. Then he’d probably like ask her is she’s serious and when she says yes finally act on his feelings. Maybe soft smut? If that is okay

HALLELUIAH YES GAWDDDD i love this sm omg

☆

stiles frowns at his reflection. scott is ranting in the school bathroom again, but it's all stuff stiles has already heard before and he's distracted anyway. he runs an absent hand over his short hair before following a still-rambling scott out of the bathroom and down the hall.

it's been getting on his nerves lately, how slow his hair is growing. he thought it was pretty cool at first, until he was slapped in the face with the reality of his best friend getting girls left and right and leaving stiles completely dry. not that it's scott's fault- he's just easy to get jealous of with this kind of thing.

"dude, are you even listening?" scott abruptly stops and whirls on stiles. "you've been dead silent for, like, three minutes."

"yeah, i heard you. but it's a little hard to care about your girlfriend strife when she actively wants to sleep with you. speaking of,"

allison is leaning against a locker, watching scott with a dreamy look. she waves and smiles softly, leaving scott to return the smile-wave combo with a lot less charisma.

"listen," stiles sighs, trying to keep the bite of envy out of his tone, "you probably just need to talk to her. girls love confidence. just, i dunno," he waves wildly with his hands. "do that."

scott squints at him. "i think that might be the worst advice you've ever given me."

"worse than killing derek?"

"possibly. now, i'm gonna go-" scott throws a look towards allison and swallows thickly, "figure that out. i'll see you."

stiles calls after him; "don't be an idiot! remember i'm living vicariously through you right now!"

once scott and allison are far enough down the hall, he rubs a hand over his hair again and huffs. stupid, stupid freshman stiles and his bad hair decisions.

"you're gonna rub right through your skull."

"GAH!" stiles jumps back from you, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. you laugh at him behind your hand, looking up through your pretty lashes. "jesus, your footsteps are like feathers. i need to put a bell on you."

that makes you frown, shoulder-checking him as you start walking. "you're just not used to anything other than two-left-feet scott mccall. i have perfectly regular footsteps."

he jogs to catch up with you as you make your way to the school parking lot, eyeing your choice of shorts. your legs being out is a big plus for his racing mind today.

"hey, you busy today? scott ditched me to go play loverbirds and i don't want to do my homework." he hums, pushing one of the heavy doors open and letting you through.

"hmm, that depends, do you have food at your house?"

"not even a little," he smirks at the almost-yes as you both trot through the empty lot towards his jeep. "that's why we're getting drive thru."

"who's paying?"

"who do you think?"

you cheer excitedly as he unlocks the jeep.

☆

you're sat criss-cross on stiles' bed as he paces, tracking his movement with your eyes. he's on a tangent about scott, actually, and how his decision-making skills are subpar. you're listening intently with a tilted head, watching his hands flex as he talks, and the way his biceps bulge without his flannel on, and how his jawline is so sharp-

"and girls are confusing, y'know? sorry, no offense, it's just-" this catches your attention, making your eyes flit up to his as they dart around the room. "it's just that you're all so... so... what do you guys even want? can't be money, because scott has a girlfriend. can't be personality, because jackson has a girlfriend. definitely can't be looks, because i'm pretty sure greenburg is going out with abby right now."

he sighs and turns on you, taking a dangerous step closer to the bed. his brow is upturned, eyes pleading, lips parted.

"it's this stupid buzzcut, isn't it?"

you blink, just once, before squinting. "what?"

"my hair, it's so-" he pushes a frustrated hand through it, and his jaw clenches. "so not hot."

and when he says it, with his narrowed eyes all sharp and his pink lips pressed together, you think for a moment he must be joking. "...what?"

he turns his glare onto you. "you know what i mean, okay? it's unattractive, it must be. i mean, i go completely unnoticed-"

"wait, you actually mean to tell me you think your buzzcut is ugly?"

stiles huffs, clearly not liking the bluntness of his feelings being laid out. "that it makes me ugly, yeah."

this makes you pause. maybe you're a minority, but when stiles drives his jeep and starts talking fast about something nerdy, you imagine climbing into his lap and making him crash the car. one time you two were arguing while he was in his lacrosse uniform and you genuinely wanted to offer to suck his dick. and even right now, with his too-tight t-shirt and his frustrated face, you want to ask him to take his frustration out on you... in- in a hot way. you may have gone a little far with that one-

"would you stop looking at me like that?" he snips, eyes darting over your whole face and then your body like he's looking for the off switch. you frown up at where he stands.

"like what? i'm just in disbelief."

he rolls his eyes. "like you're gonna tackle me. it's weird, after what i just told you."

"well, maybe i do want to tackle you." oh shit, that was supposed to stay in your head! quick, make it look like it was on purpose! "the buzzcut doesn't make you ugly."

his face screws up in confusion. "well, then, what does it make me?"

"hot."

you both kinda falter, like there's nowhere to go from here. his mouth gapes open and you watch his cheeks grow pinker, much similar to your own. and since you've already dug the hole and he doesn't seem too bothered, you make it an inch or two deeper.

"you're pretty hot, stiles. i mean, you hang around scott and stay in your room, so it's not like you're around enough girls for them to tell you. and you never ask me, so... that's probably why you're unaware."

he gapes at you, a hand going to his hair like it has a whole new purpose to him. "i didn't know asking you was an option...."

"apparently it is." you shrug. your oversized t-shirt and shorts suddenly seem not pretty enough for where this conversation seems to be going, but it's too late to linger on that thought now. anyway, his eyes are on you like sniper lasers... or something... and he takes another step closer to you.

"okay, um... i'm asking you."

you raise your eyebrows. what, he just wants you to lament on how sexy he is? you're not that easy, he's probably going to use that information to chase the skirts of some long, skinny-legged girl at school. besides, there's not even that much to-

"please." he hums.

you swallow, turning your face away from him. "okay, well, you've got the whole secretly smart guy thing going on. and your nose is really nice. mix that with the way your eyes are...-"

"my eyes are what?"

you glance up to glare at his impatience. he tilts his head at you, and you swear you can see a mischievous glint in those stupid, stupid (aggravatingly sexy) eyes. bastard.

"they're, um, provocative. when you're frustrated. or focused." you turn your eyes awayyyy from his reaction, for your own safety. "and your jaw is nice, so. plus your hands-"

"my hands?"

"are you gonna keep interrupting me? 'cause i'll stop." you gripe up at him, but looking back up was a big mistake. his cheeks are tinted pink but his mouth is quirked up into a knowing little smirk, like your embarrassment is suddenly clay for him to play with. yeah, no. you are not getting stuck in this position with stiles. "okay, yeah, that's enough."

"no, nonononono wait." he crosses the rest of the distance to crouch in front of the bed, looking up at you. "i'm sorry. i'm just not used to this. or you, like this." his hand rests atop your knee. "i won't even react. keep going, just a bit?"

you pout and look at his hand as his thumb rubs back and forth on your bare skin. it's warm and relaxing and makes your whole body burn hot when his hand inches up your thigh just barely. you look back up at him, but his face is earnest, promising. you sigh.

"your buzzcut makes you look good."

his eyebrows inch up his forehead.

"really good."

stiles grins.

☆

you're not really sure if you left stiles' house or escaped it, after that. all you know is that last night did some serious damage to your ego... and some serious maintenance to his. as you leave school, your mind replays the series of events and the blush that has been plaguing your cheeks and making you overheat returns.

dammit! you had to avoid stiles all day because of this stupid embarrassment. which proved difficult, since you guys had plenty of classes together and ate lunch with each other every day since forever. you slap your cheeks as you shoulder your way past the school doors and into the parking lot, glancing over at the field where lacrosse practice is in full swing.

your eyes catch on something odd, and coach's voice fades into the background when the image registers in your mind. stiles is leaning on the fence with his helmet in hand, sweat making his skin glow and a cocky look on his face. he's leaned over the fence, chatting up three soccer girls, who all seem very interested in whatever he's saying.

this, unfortunately, does not make you happy. but alas, what are you going to do? pull him away by the ear and chastise him for... talking to girls? you just wish you hadn't said anything about his stupid buzzcut (which looks unrealistically good with his lacrosse uniform).

all three of the girls throw their heads back laughing. and it's not even, like, pretty girl flirtatious laughter. it's loud, and one of the girls slaps her friend's arm. you want to rip the arm off.

but you keep walking instead, because you decided the bus was too much and walking home was the best option. better than standing in the parking lot, staring like a creep as your best friend (who you want to messy-make-out with) finally gets girls (who you want dead).

this is going to be a pathetic walk home.

you barely get to the end of the parking lot when you hear stiles shout your name as loud as he can.

part of you wants to stomp your feet and cry, or ignore him (as if the echo didn't reverberate off of the school building), or flip him off. like a middle schooler. because right now, you don't want to deal with the humiliation of telling stiles (through mumbles and attitude) how hot he is and how badly you want him to fuck you into his mattress, only for him to use you as matchmaker for hotter, more experienced girls.

but you're not a child, and he's still your best friend. plus, his lacrosse uniform.... yum.

jesus christ, you need a drink. there is no way that thought just consciously happened.

you drag your feet walking back, and the soccer girls skip off with their ponytails swinging. stiles is smiling all big and bright when you finally reach him. you are not smiling at all. "you needed me?"

"yeah, i wanted to know if you were coming over tonight." he stands taller than you, and his buzzcut looks so touchable right now, you want to bend him down to your level and run your fingers through it. you blink up at him as you stare, and the silence stretches. his hand comes up to the back of his neck. "uhh, just 'cause i could help you with the homework we skipped yesterday-" he interrupts himself. "are you okay?"

"i'm fine. for both. the homework and the question." you press your thumb into your palm and turn towards the lacrosse field, away from his searching eyes and worried lips. "see you tomorrow, yeah?"

you start to back away from him when he steps forward, the fence catching him from coming closer to you. "well i just- you should come over. i want you to."

"stiles, i can't wait for lacrosse practice to end-"

"i'll skip. they don't even need me." he clenches his jaw when you look back at him. there's a determination in his eyes you've never seen directed at you, and it makes your stomach flip. you've never fell victim to being his prey before, when he wants something so he gets it. the feeling is unrivaled. his lips part. "please."

you can feel your cheeks flush. why does that always have to work on you?

"okay, alright, no need to beg." you nod your head to his jeep, on the far side of the parking lot. "let's go."

he does a subtle fist pump that he doesn't think you see, and hops the fence to follow you, leaving literally everything in the locker room except his car keys. "how was your day?"

you glance up at him, but only for a second when you see how he's staring. all curious and excited, probably from the attention he was getting from those soccer girls. your lips press together in distaste before you even realize.

"it was fine." you shrug, watching as he gets ahead of you to open the passenger door. "got an A on mrs. martin's project."

stiles hums in approval, which may or may not make your lower stomach fizz with butterflies. then he closes your door and makes the short jog to his side, clambering inside. "good job. you hungry?"

you shake your head as he pulls out of the parking lot, doing your best to ignore the vein in his neck when he looks over his shoulder as he backs out, hand resting on your seat. yeah, you totally don't notice that. "no thanks, i'm okay."

"are you sure? i didn't see you at lunch. or english. or-"

"i wasn't feeling well today."

this shuts him up, but not in a good way. you feel his eyes on you, even as he drives, and it makes you squirm a bit. but he doesn't comment on your icy tone, and you drive the rest of the way in silence.

☆

in fact, you're silent all the way up to his room, where you toss your bag in the corner and toe your shoes off. stiles huffs out a sigh and scrubs over his buzzcut self-consciously, tracking you with his eyes as you trail aimlessly around his room and admire the things on his walls.

he's been dying to ask it. he has to. the girls on the soccer team said... he squeezes his eyes shut while you're turned away, repeating what they said to him in his head for nth time. just be honest, and confident. that's what you'd want.

stiles takes bold strides across the room right up to you. he gives you enough room to turn around and face him, but not much more.

"hey."

you scrunch your face up just a bit in confusion. "...hi?"

he clears his throat, his jaw flexing on it's own accord. "the...- okay, when you said my buzzcut makes me look really good-"

"stiles," you scoff and push past him, walking to the middle of his room as a means of escape. "i'm not doing this with you."

"no, wait, doing what?" he scurries around you to face you again, holding you lightly by the shoulders. "waitwaitwait. you gotta let me-"

"no. stop." you're embarrassed, he can tell now. the way you turn your face away and narrow your brow, he never knew he'd be able to read you so well. but he's doing it now, and he's not happy with what he's seeing.

"no, you stop. let me ask you what i want to ask, alright?" he huffs through his nose, and watches as you seem to come to attention. it gives him an odd thrill to see you react so readily when he corrects you. "are you gonna listen to me?"

you glare up at him for a second too long before nodding slowly. he nods too, and in a impatient, annoyed tone, he grumbles: "good."

and then stiles watches your eyes flicker as you fluster much more than he expected. he didn't think much of the words when he was saying them, but here you both are, weirdly into it. he blinks hard to clear his head.

"when you said my buzzcut makes me look 'really good'," he repeats, "did you mean really good to you or to other people?"

he feels you shift your weight by the movement of your shoulders. looking away, you hum, "i don't understand why this is important to you."

stiles narrows his eyes. "yes you do. you know you're into me and you just wont say it."

you snap your eyes to his and take a challenging step forward. "who said i'm into you? just because i said you're good looking doesn't mean you get to use me as some matchmaking machine. i won't inflate your ego just so you can hook up with popular girls, stiles. you can't-"

"i'm not asking so you can inflate my ego." stiles takes a step towards you, making you step back. "i'm asking because i want to know if you were serious." another step. "because i want you to think that about me." another step, and your back hits the wall.

you watch, doe eyed, as stiles brings a hand up to push some of your hair away from your face. his eyes meet yours, but dip down when your lips part. he swallows.

"so," stiles hums, towering over you. "were you being serious?"

stiles watches in awe as your pretty mouth forms around his new favorite word.

"yes."

he half expects himself to tear both of your clothes off and go wild. but his body moves on its own accord; taking your face gently in his hands, kissing you like you're made of glass. when you reciprocate eagerly, he feels his pants start to strain. fuck. seriously? can you please pretend you've had at least some action before?

he can't believe he has to talk his dick down when he's kissing you.

pressing you back up against his bedroom wall, he feels goosebumps rise as your nails rake lightly over his buzz, and it makes him hum. stiles gently removes one hand from the curve of your jaw and slides it onto your hip instead. he loves your hips. he loves them even more when his hands are on them, apparently, because the feeling of it is otherworldly.

what's even better, though, is when your tongue collides with his and you let out a small noise. it's high-pitched and whiney, and it almost makes him finish prematurely. he licks eagerly into your mouth to try and draw it out of you again, but you seem to silence yourself from embarrassment. this does not fly with stiles. his knee draws forward and splits your thighs apart, resting in between them, and he moves down to kiss at your neck. he'll make you whine again, he's sure of it.

"wait," you breathe out. he almost doesn't catch it, too busy with the way your skin feel on his lips and how he has you up against his wall, breathless and pliant. but he pulls back (albeit reluctantly) and meets your dazed look with one of his own.

"what? is this okay? do you wanna stop?" he might actually die on the spot if you want to stop. but he'd do it, for you. his hand massages your hip where he's got you gently pinned, and he watches as it visibly makes you sway (swoon, but you'd never admit that).

"no, no. but, your dad-"

"he's out."

"he could get home anytime."

"we can be quick. we don't have to do anything more than this right now."

"stiles," you're laughing at him. it's airy, and mostly just a teasing smile, but you're still laughing at him. "are you just saying that to get me in your bed? i mean..."

your thigh, which is in between his because of his being in between yours, slides up and presses lightly against his hard-on. his jaw goes slack as the unexpected pressure washes pleasure all over his nerves, and his shoulders bend over for a moment as his hips react on their own. he stops himself, thoroughly embarrassed, and glares at you. you giggle behind your hand, raising an eyebrow. "how're you gonna say you don't want anything below the collar with that going on?"

he pushes your thigh away, shaking his head. "i never said i didn't want anything more, i said we don't have to do anything more. plus, you're the one making the noises and touching me and... so, if anything, this isn't even my fault." stiles gestures vaguely to his dick.

"i'm flattered." you deadpan, before your hand trails from his chest to his stomach. he watches in awe, still half disbelieving that he got you here. you hook your fingers into his waistband and look up at him. "promise your dad wont walk in on us?"

"can you not talk about my dad while turning me on?" he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. "swear on my life, you have nothing to worry about."

you nod and lean back against the wall, tugging him by his pants to meet you there. he follows suit, lining his body against yours as he kisses you, hands on your hips with yours running through his buzz. he captures your lower lip in his teeth and gently as he can, and you make another short, high-pitched noise again. his dick twitches in his pants.

"you wanna, um," you suck in a breath as he kisses your neck, "move to the bed?"

"yes," he sighs, and immediately pulls your hips forward and directs you to his bed. when you drop onto it and scoot back, stiles hesitates. your hair is a bit messy, lips are full, and your eyes have a glint in them he's never seen before. he's assaulted with the thought of you being his wife and having his kids and growing old and dying together, and then he blinks it away. jesus christ, you're a powerful woman.

he wants to do anything to make you look like this all the time. needy, pretty, all your insecurities and doubts kissed right off of your lips, even if it's just for a bit. is this what being horny is going to be like for him now? is he gonna be a sap when you want to fuck?

stiles crawls over you slowly, laying you back against his pillows. you're excited and it shows, and you're both smiling when he kisses you this time.

☆

he's a mess for days after, head full of the faces you make when he touches you just right, the noises coming from your mouth when you finish. the feeling of skin on skin, the picture perfect look of you wearing his shirt after. it takes scott about two and a half seconds to scrunch up his nose and make a disgusted face at stiles when he starts thinking it. your beauty is just seeping out of him, like he soaked you up and now every werewolf in a one hundred mile radius can smell the lovesick puppy on him.

you want to go on dates, too. real ones, all the time, and you think he's hot and cute and sometimes pretty, which is confusing to him but he likes it anyway. and he wants to save up his money so he can take you to a fancy restaurant. and he is so whipped.

which he's fine with. as long as it's for you. honestly, he's fine with almost anything, as long as it's for you.

☆

i didn't write smut and i apologize but my writing process is to blackout while my fingers fly across my keyboard like i'm a hacker spy until i come to and there's a story on the screen. so. smut didn't happen naturally so it ain't gonna happen at all, i guess. i dunno. ask writing star, not editing star. sorry i've been so absent, holidays is super busy with extended family and such. wish me luck. xoxo!!!

☆

BONUS!! stiles asks some poor soccer girls for help before you went to his house after lacrosse practice. the advice is... really somethin'.

"hey, um, lily?" he had to guess the name of the girl jogging past, but he got it right. she stopped and approached him skeptically, glancing at her two friends in front of her.

"yeah?" she threaded her fingers through the fence as he strided the rest of the distance to her. her two friends had begun making their way over as well. she had to squint past the sun as she stared at him. "what's up?"

"hi, hey, we have bio together. fourth period? i've sat behind you all sememster?"

her face showed no recognition.

"...anyway, i have a question. actually, i can ask all three of you. since you're, um, girls."

her two friends had approached at that point, and looked equally as put off by stiles as lily did. he cleared his throat and started on his ramble:

"so, let's say i'm best friends with this girl, and i like her. like, a lot. and she's kinda totally way out of my leauge, but we never talk about it because she doesn't see things like that anyway. and one day i get on a rant about girls and how confusing they are because, y'know," he gestured to his face like it was a tell of itself, "and she says that my biggest insecurity- err, physically- is actually really hot. and she says my hands are sexy. and my eyes are seductive. and she's like, kinda blushing a lot? but she blushes anyway about stuff around me so it doesn't really-"

"she likes you." one of lily's friends piped up behind her. "if that's what you're asking."

"are you sure? i'm not her type, plus-"

"dude," sighed the other one. the three girls shared a look, making stiles gulp. "girls don't call guys' hands sexy unless they're dying to have them in their mouth."

"mazie!" lily whirled around to slap her friend's shoulder, which did absolutely nothing to censor her. when she turned back to stiles, it was apologetically. "sorry, but she's got a point."

he slumped onto the fence in relief. "you think so? i want to put my hands in her mouth, if she's asking for that."

"nice." mazie nodded as the other two girls made noises of disgust. ignoring them, mazie continued. "honestly, she probably likes you but thinks you don't like her. especially if you're chatting up three soccer girls, looking like that."

the only girl stiles hadn't gotten the name of nodded solemly, and lily put her hands on her hips, determined. "okay, skinhead. how're you gonna confess?"

stiles smiles awkwardly. "uh, i'll just tell her when she comes over tonight?"

lily barked out a laugh, and her two friends followed suit. it was loud, like three crows making fun of him while they toss their heads back. it ended abruptly, too, and lily glared daggers at him in the silence. "no, idiot."

stiles whimpered a little "oh."

"girls love confidence." the unnamed girl declared, tilting her head. "when i flirt with girls i always make them like, say how hot i am. always gets them going."

"god," lily scrunched her nose, "are you both ovulating? we do not need to know all of that."

"so... what should i do?" stiles blinked at them, and they refocused their attention on him.

"be confident. be honest. that's always a rare, and hot, trait in a guy." lily said, before her eyes roved over him analytically. "anyway, you're attractive. it'll be fine."

"he's attractive?" the unnamed girl said, making all three of them laugh again. lily slapped her arm, and stiles let himself get distracted as his eye caught on someone walking across the parking lot.

oh, it's you.

his body feels a bit warmer, buzzing with nervous energy, as he shouts your name.

☆

[lesbiansfor-blackbeard]

because wymack is the one you call when you're just lost and you don't know what else to do

we know neil calls from the airport but he also calls from the mall, when teammates have dragged him out after andrew has graduated and there are too many people and he just wants to go home

kevin calls many times his first year out of school, alone, standing in the liquor aisle of the grocery store and just needing to hear that he still matters

seth would have called after he found out his wife was pregnant and he runs out the door. he calls wymack from his car in some parking lot and gets an earful and a game plan

maybe jean calls when he can't get a hold of kevin and hes spiraling. wymack doesn't let him hang up until jeremy is sitting next to jean and wymack has found kevin

dan calls after her aunt shows up. she has a spine she built herself, and wymack reminds of her of that. he reminds her that yes, she has a soft spot and wants to help, but that he wouldn't have made her captain if he didn't have faith in her ability to stand up for the foxes. and he reminds her that she is a fox as well.

renee just calls to talk. she calls because she worries about wymack as he gets older. she calls after her mom passes away. she calls just to keep in touch.

allison rarely calls. she sees him on holidays and misses him but she finds it hard to keep in touch. one morning a scandal breaks: a gossip site has found allison with her girlfriend. it's too soon, she didn't want everyone to know. and that's the face she puts on publicly, but the morning it breaks she calls wymack just to sit, and to remember the family she was and is a part of that will always have her back

andrew calls because he misses wymack but her never admits it. like neil, wymack was the first man who let him be safe, who listened as he crashed through his meds and let him be himself one night a week and believed in him. andrew calls to say nothing, but that's okay because wymack doesn't know what to say either.

it takes aaron a while to call. he liked wymack, sure, but he always knew his brother was the first choice. it's actually wymack that calls first after aaron graduates medical school with a "congratulations" and an "I knew you could do it" aaron starts sending pictures and videos of his daughters and he even tries to get the original foxes organized for a meet up once a year

nicky calls just to say hi, much like renee. but many years after they've all graduated he calls, and thanks wymack for gluing his family together when he was coming apart at the seams to keep his cousins from drifting.

matt calls after his first kid is born. "I don't want to be like my father" and wymack is a little taken aback because he has a hard time seeing how matt and his father are even related and eventually matt says "I want to be you." and wymacks heart heals a little when he hears that because he is so unlike his own father that one of his foxes wants to be like him

this got a little off topic but I love post-uni foxes

[velunas]

can you do some nsfw five headcanons? thanksss

aw hell yea man. i want aidan gallagher so bad it’s criminal i need to be locked up in horny jail !! (surprise surprise i like another white man)

five hargreeves nsfw headcanons

tw: smut !! mdni plz xoxo 💋

ngl it took him a WHILE to stop cumming so quick after the two of u had sex for the first time. dude was alone for like 50 years with nothing but a mannequin and his left hand ok cut him some slack

but trust me when i say he always made up for it. if he’s cumming after 5 minutes he’s making u cum at LEAST two times that night (more for himself than for you bc busting so quick damaged his ego a bit)

had never eaten pussy before you so he was super hesitant going into it at first, even though he didn’t act like it

probably spent a few minutes exploring what you had down there before rlly going to town on you

picks up on things very quickly bc he’s so smart so it was easy for him to figure out what you liked and didn’t like

is able to make you cum the first time he goes down on you and will never forget it (huge ego boost)

blowjobs are one of his favorite things in the world, second only to actual sex with you

he’s heard his brothers talk about sex in passing but brushed it off as some stupid superficial thing they were obsessed with

but oh man after the first time you two do it he wants it all the time

for the first few months he’s practically insatiable, which is so far from his normally calm and collected persona

after a while, he’s able to control himself more. it becomes less of an addiction and more of a luxury to him

but don’t get me wrong, just because he doesn’t need it every day doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it often

he considers it the perfect way to unwind from a long and stressful day

or the best way to apologize after upsetting you

prefers using his fingers over his mouth on you because he gets a better view of your face and how good he’s making you feel

he gets super possessive sometimes (especially when he’s drunk) so he will occasionally leave dark bruises on your neck, just below your collar. easy enough to cover up but easy to show off as well

doesn’t like hickies on himself but appreciates scratches on his back from time to time

doesnt talk about your sex life with his siblings, but it’s clear by the way he relaxes around them more after the two of you get together that he’s getting that ‘good good’ (direct quote from diego said to a disgusted allison)

keeps his hair long because he likes when you tug it

favorite position is missionary bc he’s a classic man what can i say. he loves that he can see your entire body and your face all at the same time

however you on top is something he’ll never refuse

pls just top him every once and a while he’s so tired from saving the world thrice and taking care of his siblings and murdering people… he needs a break !

is always so hesitant to relinquish control to you but he knows he always enjoys himself in the end

doesn’t usually get into ‘roles’ during sex but he prefers being the one to call the shots

if ur able to get him to sub be prepared bc he’s a mouthy little brat

probably likes being slapped around a lil bit i can’t lie

is a secret sucker for soft romantic sex (but he saves that for special occasions like anniversaries and birthdays)

he’ll cradle your face and whisper how pretty you are and press gentle kisses to your cheeks. he’ll even hold ur hand the whole time!!

ok last addition but i feel like when he gets super drunk he’ll accidentally spill the beans about your sex life to klaus and ben and now ben can’t look at him or you the same without remembering that five told him you swallow LMAO

[minyard-05]

idk i mean. i'm just thinking about dan wilds. dragging herself out of where she grew up, grasping at threads of any opportunity, anywhere that might be better than this, sleeping with her exy racquet at night, fighting tooth and nail through life until it all comes crashing past in the form of david wymack. and the train won't slow down, won't let her step back and decide, she just has to grab onto the hand outstretched and don't let go, don't ever let go. wymack gives her a place to belong, to stay, something to build on rather than piece back together. no wonder she cares about him like a father. wymack represents dan's whole world stringing itself together and starting to come back into a whole. she comes to the foxes so she can stay. she finds friends, finds somebody who loves her, she's made captain. she gets fire from fans and the press, but nobody will fucking take this from her because nobody will ever prise her bloody hands from this life. she's fought too hard for it for it to be stolen.

so when neil shows up at palmetto, dan recognises the world-weary grief in his eyes, recognises the stubborn set of his jaw, the firm stance that he holds himself in. neil needs this too, its helping him breathe. dan knows it because it's helping her breathe too. admittedly neil's a lot more messed up than she was expecting, but she doesn't care, like calls to like, and every swing at her team is a swing at her. they will have to rip the foxes out of her grip before she lets them go.

as offensive dealer, dan stands on the half court line between the strikers. front and centre. she heads the team, she leads them, she is who they look to for direction. not kevin, not neil, not andrew, not wymack. dan. she is their captain and she has fought desperately to be it. she will not let them down.

thinking about her facing riko for coin toss at the final game and knowing he killed seth, he is the sole cause for allison's months of grief, he took neil, he tried to take kevin, he is what has caused her foxes so much pain and hurt over the past year and he smiles at it.

we talk about how neil and kevin cling onto exy like its keeping them alive, but we forget that it's doing the same thing for dan, too.

[i-like-writing-stuff]

grateful [ five hargreeves x reader ]

“Fancy seeing you here,” You crossed your arms, trying to act natural as the boy before you eyes you curiously.

“In front of the CIA headquarters?” Five mimicked your posture, “Jee, Y/N, fork spotted in the kitchen. What are you doing at my work place?”

You sighed, trying to fight back the urge of rolling your eyes. You were lying to yourself if you wanted to say that Five’s sarcasm actually annoyed you. After all, it was one of the traits you loved about him- surprisingly. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but even if you were actually waiting for him to talk business, you never once missed an opportunity to meet him.

Especially if you weren’t surrounded by your noisy family. The Hargreeves siblings became your family by choice, and as much as you loved each and every single one of them, you couldn’t help but appreciate deeply the one on one time you got to spend with Five.

“I just got off the phone with Luther,” You said, putting your hands in your pockets, “Viktor got kidnapped, Five.”

As soon as those words eat your lips, you saw Five’s expression go from cocky to shocked, to worried and then to shocked once again. You hated you had to be the one to break these news to him, after six years of peace where all of you managed to live normal lives. You hated that you had to see him worried again for his family’s safety, but you had no other choice.

You all had to reunite to save your loved one.

“I’ll drive,” Five nodded, already realizing that the gang would have to get back together.

You and Five met during the JFK mission in 1963, when both of you were working for the Commission. You only heard of him around the work place, but never actually worked together. The Handler assigned you both for the first time to get the assassination done, but one thing led to another and you accidentally woke up in 2019, in your teen body, alongside him.

The rest is history.

As you got into his car, you watched him as he started the engine in silence. He was deep into thought, obviously worried half to death about his brother. You were as well, since Viktor was his first sibling you warmed up to, and honestly it felt surreal that he was in danger again, after six years.

Six years where nothing, and quite literally nothing out of the ordinary happened. After your third attempt at stopping the apocalypse and the Hargreeves losing their powers, you all moved on with your lives, keeping in touch now and then. All nine of you went separate ways, rebuilding your lives. Allison was back to acting, Klaus was finally sober, Diego and Lila were a family with kids, Viktor was running a bar and Luther was working somewhat as an astronaut. Key word, somewhat.

Five became a CIA agent and you were running a marketing agency, so you really only saw the family on holidays or random gatherings. You and him kept in touch the most. You were happy to say that he was your best friend, but sad that nothing more went on. If you were supposed to be together, you would have been by now.

After all, there was this drunken kiss you shared on the night of Luther’s wedding.

“Shut the fuck up, Hargreeves!” You giggled, pointing a finger m at him, “I respect Delores, I swear I do, but I do not understand why in the world she would put up with your ding dong face, honestly.”

“Oh, spare me the reverse psychology in which your jealousy lays, Y/N,” Five smirked, softly waving away your finger in his face.

You were the only ones left on the dance floor, intoxicated over the safe limit. After the whole family went to sleep, the two of you were still left quite energized. You didn’t know if it was because you were sixty year olds back in your teen bodies, or simply too drunk to realize how hyperactive you were, but you were not about to end the night any time soon.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment you fell in love with Five, but he definitely could write an entire book of how he grew feelings for you. It all happened at such a slow pace, how could he not? When he first met you in 1963 at the Dealey Plaza, he was immediately taken aback by your quick wit and intellect. He also didn’t think someone who looked so sweet and elegant, like the grandma who would take her grandchildren all the time to fancy restaurants and then bake fresh cookies for them at home, could also be a trained assassin, ready to fight off three people at once wearing dresses and heels.

It was love at first sight for him.

Then, when you kept Delores safe from Hazel and Cha Cha, he realized just how big your heart was. He was completely blown away by the way you held onto the mannequin with one arm, while dodging attacks incoming from both of them.

There was also this moment in 1963 when you held him in your arms after he went on a spree, taking out the entire board of the Commission.

He was so infatuated with every single action of yours, so deeply and intensely in love it was actually pathetic to him, to some degree. Now, as his hands were firmly gripping your waist, swaying your hips in sync to the melody on the speakers, all he wanted to do was feel your lips on his, for a first and last time.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, as your arms were wrapped around his neck. You didn’t know when you got so close to one another, it was all just so natural.

“Ironically enough, you,” He scoffed, making you roll your eyes;

“Only you could make such a romantic comment and at the same time make me want to stomp on your face, Five,” You said amused, shaking your head in disbelief.

Five laughed, looking into your eyes. In his drunken state, he was not thinking rationally as he usually did anymore. He didn’t know for certain if he’d make it out of the apocalypse this time, and after the two attempts at saving the world, the regret of not tasting you was finally getting to him.

He moved his hands up your sides, resting them on your cheeks at last. Rubbing your face gently, Five leaned in to capture your lips, tasting the alcohol you shared all night. You were relieved to finally feel his touch you so deeply craved over the months spent together, pulling him even closer, as if that was possible.

That led to nowhere, unfortunately, as neither of you ever mentioned it again. Like little stupid kids, all these years you both assumed that the other didn’t remember that part, since no one ever brought it up ever again.

“Viktor will be fine, Five,” You broke the silence, watching as his knuckles turned white while gripping the steering wheel, waiting for the green light.

“I just forgot how fucking stressful all this shit was,” Five sighed, letting go, but not looking at you yet, “So stupid.”

“Hey,” You placed a hand on top of his, “We will rescue him and go back to our lives before, okay? Who knows, maybe it’s not even that serious- maybe it’s just some misunderstanding or a real easy mission. We stopped the apocalypse three times, I think some amateur kidnapping will be a walk in the park, okay? Besides, maybe by the time we get there, Viktor will have already handed their asses to each other.”

Five scoffed amused. You did always manage to be the voice of reason in his life whenever the over-thinking got the best of him.

You didn’t have any idea just how grateful he was for you.

[growth-opportunities]

Even though we don't talk anymore, this is the picture I love to go back to when I think about my old friend group. It's just so thrilling to me, to think about what this picture used to show. We were all moderately busty when we met (I have my own theories about women of similar bust sizes becoming friends, but that's for another day.) Jenny, sitting next to me in the leopard print, was the biggest at an E cup and I was the smallest, though still sitting pretty with a pair of juicy C cup tits. We were all headed up to my parents' summer home for a few days to really break in the new swimming pool. It was meant to be a dream vacation with my best friends, girls who had been my best friend for a long, long time.

All it took was a few shots of Pink Whitney to turn it into a nightmare.

Okay, that's kind of an exaggeration. It was already a nightmare, I just didn't know. But alcohol helped loosen Allison (in the back, behind Jenny)'s lips. As soon as she mentioned Joe, my boyfriend, I knew something was up. A few more shots and a screaming match later, it all came tumbling out. Turns out Joe had been cheating on me with Jenny for a few months now. Allison and Shannon knew about it but they were all keeping it a secret from me. It broke my heart, of course, but it really twisted the knife when she started talking about how her boobs meant she could steal any guy she wanted and that Joe deserved someone better than someone 'small' like me. Needless to say, I kicked them out and made them find their own way home. I had never been more furious in my entire life. Just the betrayal of it all, from people that, just days before, I felt like I could trust with my life.

I still had a few days at the vacation home, so I continued to drink all by myself, threw myself a nice little pity party. And, in a moment of impulsiveness, I may have kind of turned to magic. The others had always teased me for my interest in the occult, so I thought what better way to get back at them. And if they were all fine with stealing my boyfriend, then I had no qualms stealing something back from them. And what better than the things that Jenny thought made her so fucking superior. I threw together the stuff that I needed (though admittedly, it was a little janky to use my mom's scented candles for the ritual) and called upon the Powers Beyond to help me. Turns out, the Powers Beyond respond really well to revenge. Not only did I steal almost all of their tits, but they rewrote reality so that I always had tits that big and they were always that small.

It was unbelievably arousing to look down and see my tits swelling, watching my bikini top shift as reality adapted to my new size. Feeling their growing weight, watching as they swelled larger and larger, spilling out of the top until reality gave me a new one... I can see why people keep going back to make deals with otherworldly powers. I thought the picture of us together and happy, just before my world shattered, would always be a painful reminder, but now it's proof of my revenge. I doubt Joe is with Jenny still, in this reality, but I couldn't give a shit about them anymore. Their tits have made me absolutely enormous and I can't wait to see what life is like at this enormous size.

[the-upside-down-umbrella]

Partners? Partners.

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N Hargreeves, formerly of the Sparrow Academy, finds herself virtually alone in the reset timeline. The Umbrella’s bring her in to their chaos and she builds something new for herself while still navigating the grief of losing her family. She’s happy in the simplicity. That is, until the one Hargreeves she can’t seem to win over comes to her with an offer she might not be able to refuse.

Warnings: Some cursing. Some angst.

(Part 1/?)

A/N: This one will be 4 or 5 parts. A bit of a coffee shop AU if you squint

——————

She missed her family. She missed them so desperately that sometimes when she dreamt of them at night, she would wake up in tears as the loneliness set in and she realized that her dreams were the only place she would see them again. They had been dysfunctional and as far as families go, not that close, but they had been hers. She would never understand how she had survived everything, how she had made it through the reset when the others did not. She technically had Ben but he had distanced himself not just from the Umbrella’s, but from her, as soon as they fell into this timeline. Now he was in prison for a white-collar bitcoin crime and he refused to have visitors altogether. She was well and truly the last of her family.

It got easier with time and she fell into a predictable, mundane routine. For the first time in her life, she was forced to slow down and be a normal human being. No powers. No Sparrow Academy. Just living and surviving.

She found an apartment with a roommate who mostly kept to themselves and a stable, if not a bit boring, job as a barista at a local coffee shop just a block from home. It wasn’t much and some months she was barely scraping by, but it was a start and she was happy.

The other Hargreeves children, the Umbrellas, brought her into the fold of their chaotic family and soon, she began to feel less alone.

She had brunch with Luther every Sunday at his club. They spent that time talking about Sloane, keeping her memory alive between them. She shared her childhood memories of her sister and Luther soaked it all in, grateful to receive any little piece of new information about his wife that he could get. She was thankful for that time with him and happy that someone loved Sloane the way she always deserved to be loved. Even if it was just for a moment.

Diego and Lila had her over for family game night at least once a month and she had coffee with Lila every week at the shop. Their children called her aunt and she made sure that they were properly spoiled, much to their parent's dismay.

She made the trek to Victor’s bar often in the evenings not just for the free drinks, but because he was actually wonderful company and he made sure to carve out time to sit and talk with her whenever he could take a break from running things. Like her, she suspected that he also felt a bit lonely.

Klaus and Allison came as a pair these days. Their dynamic was a sight to behold as Klaus navigated his newfound sobriety, and Allison pulled together a life doing what she loved, to support her daughter. She loved being around them.

But there was one particular family member that Y/N could not quite figure out.

Five.

Apart from their initial interaction at Sloane and Luther’s wedding where he had drunkenly accosted her about her powers, he had barely acknowledged her existence. While she was building relationships with his other siblings, he kept her at arm's length. Sure, he was cordial with her at family events and dinners, but that’s where he drew the line. He rebuffed every attempt she made at finding a connection with him.

That is until he started showing up every morning at the coffee shop she worked at. The same time every morning and the same, predictable order.

The first time he walked through the door she was taken aback. She knew he lived on the other side of town but she chalked it up to some work thing bringing him there.

He made his order, indulged her in small talk, and sat down, opening up a newspaper to read while he sipped his coffee.

She thought it was a one-off, but was very surprised when he turned up the next morning at the same time.

And then the morning after that and the morning after that.

He began conversing with her for longer periods of time, asking questions about her day-to-day life after the reset and even sharing some tidbits of information about himself. She knew he worked for the CIA and had recently moved into a new apartment.

A few weeks went by and each day was the same. It reached the point that she would have his coffee made and the donut he liked set aside before he even made it through the door.

But after a while, her curiosity began to get the better of her. Why was he here? Why was he suddenly showing interest in her and what she was doing with her life? It was making her crazy!

“Your black, boring coffee, sir,” Y/N said in the most sugary sweet voice she could muster, setting the cup down in front of the irritating man in front of her.

Five immediately picked it up and took a deep sip, “Fantastic as usual.”

She pulled the chair out across from him and sat down with a huff, “Cut the crap, Five. We both know you have much closer coffee shops to your apartment. Why, may I ask, do you insist on frequenting mine? Is it just to pester me?”

“Maybe I just like your company,” Five shrugged, leaning back to observe her.

This poked at her ire even more. He was always doing that. Just observing her like some sort of animal in an enclosure. Always there at his little table near the window. Rain or shine.

“Oh please!” She scoffed, “You’ve never given any indication that you even like me, let alone enjoy my company. In fact, until you started showing up here every day, I was pretty sure you hated me. So, again, cut the crap and tell me why you’re really here.”

“Fine,” he said, sitting his mug down so that he could give her his full, undivided attention, “I have a proposition for you.”

“This should be good.”

“My boss wants me to take on a partner,” he explained, “but the problem with that is that I don’t really trust…anyone really. But I’ve watched you these last few years, Y/N, and I know that you’re smart, analytical, and incredibly sharp. Your powers fine-tuned all of your senses and even if you don’t have them anymore, that’s still there. And that’s what I want in a partner.”

“Five, I’m not even trained to work for the CIA,” she reminded him, “I’m sure they’re not going to just let some random person join ranks without experience.”

“But you do have experience,” he insisted, “you’re a Sparrow. You’ve literally been trained since birth to be a fighter, a spy, or whatever else Dad needed us to be.”

“Need I remind you that neither the sparrows nor the umbrellas existed in this timeline? So none of that is going to mean jack shit to anyone.”

“It will if I forge a few documents,” he said, leaning forward so that he could get a clear look at her, “How do you think I got this far looking this young? I’ll do the same for you and everyone will think you’re an FBI transfer. They’ll be none the wiser. Trust me, not everyone high up is as smart as they’d like to think they are.”

She doubted anyone was that stupid.

“Five, this might come as a surprise to you, but I actually really like my life here,” she told him, “it’s peaceful and easy and I don’t really need any more than that. After so long of fighting and striving for perfection for the Sparrows, I’m ready to just settle down and live slowly. So, thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

“You say that,” he chuckled, “you say that you want peace and quiet but I know that’s just something you tell yourself. Because I’ve told myself the same thing and it didn’t suit me. But let’s face it, you’re as unhinged as me. You NEED the chaos. You thrive on it.”

“You’re really not doing yourself any favors here, Five,” she hissed. “Besides, why me? Why haven’t you asked Diego? Hasn’t he been bugging you about bringing in his resume? Make him your partner.”

“Diego and Lila have enough going on in their lives,” he waved her off, “And Diego is a skilled fighter but he lacks in the brains department. Trust me.”

With that final statement, Five stood up and pushed in his chair before downing the last dredges of his coffee, “Just think about it, okay? And until then, I’ll be here every day, as usual. No one makes a cup of coffee quite like you.”

With a wink he left her sitting at the table alone, wondering why on earth she was actually considering his offer.

[awakenedevildays]

the urge to just hold stiles face and be so sweet to him because he dosent deserve literley any of the treatment he gets from anyone

「sleepless nights」 Stiles Stilinski x F!reader

tw: traumas, implied violence, nightmares, set right after the end of season 3.

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"Stiles, come to bed." you stir out of your sleep, the empty spot next to you is cold, signaling that he woke up already a while ago, if he ever actually slept. He's sat at his desk, head against his arms on the wooden table, his back is facing you as you get out of the warm sheets to reach him. "Baby," you rub his back delicately as to not scare him and he raises his head to look at you: his eyes are dull and accentuated by two, deep black circles. You give him a tight lipped smile, "you need sleep."

He just shakes his head.

"No." He answers curtly. He refuses to go back to bed, to sleep, to possibly let that thing take control of him again. "I'm fine." He answers and diverts his eyes from you.

"no you're not, you're tired and you need to sleep." You turn his chair around to make Stiles look at you.

He lets you turn the chair easily, his eyes look at you, the bags under them even prominent in the dim light coming from outside the window, "I can handle being tired." He replies stubbornly, but his eyes are telling you that he is already worn out and just when you're about to answer he keeps on going.

"-what I can't handle though, is dreaming over and over about what he- what I did." His voice trembles as he speaks and your heart breaks a little when his eyes become teary. It's the first time he talks about what happened and for the whole past week, after the Nogitsune was defeated, you've tried at least once a day to make him open up: enough to make him understand that you were ready to listen and be there for him but not so much as to make him feel under pressure.

"what he did, Stiles, that wasn't you, it was never you." You kneel in front of him.

"I know-" Stiles answers, his voice becoming thick, "I know that, but- but it was my body, wasn't it? I was there, inside of it, watching." He admits, his head hits the back of his chair repeatedly and his eyes closes shut, like he's trying to get something out of his head.

“I- I can't stop thinking about it." he whispers, opening his glassy eyes to look at you again, you grab his hands, they're cold against your skin and he grips them strongly to hold on something. "Allison is dead, she died because I wasn't strong enough to control him no... because he knew I was weak enough to control and the things my body did to Coach, to Kira and Scott... to you... How can you even look at me after all I did?" he lets out a sarcastic laugh and your own eyes become teary at the mention of Allison.

"No one thinks that what happened is your fault, Allison is not dead because of you, Scott and Kira didn't get hurt because of you and neither did I." You squeeze his hands and bring them closer to you, his bust falls forward until his elbows rest on his knees and his head his slumped in front of your face.

"When the Nogitsune did those things I didn't feel your hands, I didn't see your eyes, I didn't hear your voice." your fingers move to grab his face and caress it softly, he looks at you from between his eyelashes: vulnerable, guilty, and so, so tired.

"How can you say that?" He asks you, and his voice is shaky. "How can you be so sure? Maybe I am evil." he whispers, keeping his eyes close, and you can't help but shake your head as he nuzzles his face in your hands.

"Because everything was so different with him: he was colder, angrier... it was evil, everything that you're not, everything that I'm not seeing right now." your thumbs are placed under his eyes, ready to catch the tears that are threatening to escape.

He leans into your touch, his tired eyes closing and a shaky breath leaving his lips. His shoulders slump forward and his head falls against your shoulder, the wet sensation of his tears against your skin is followed by his breath, like he's trying to fight a sob, trying to control himself. "I don't want you to see me this way," he whispers.

"I don't mind and you shouldn't either, I want to know what's going on in your head all the time, from the dumbest thing to the most serious one, that's what I'm here for." you kiss his temple.

His hands move away from your grip to grab your hips instead, his fingers grip at your skin in an attempt to hold onto himself as he buries his face in your shoulder, trying to hide, embarrassed. He whispers hoarsely, "I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not! You could never be a burden to me, Sti'... You're always there for everyone, always ready to help, let me do this for you, let me be the one to help you this time." You whisper against his temple and it seems to break the last bit of his wall as he finally lets his dam break, his body trembles against you as he finally lets out a broken sob, his chest heaving in a pathetic attempt to keep crying quietly.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he says on repeat, his arms tighten around your hips, clinging to you like his life depends on it.

"shhh, you don't have to be sorry, it's okay," you rub his back to soothe him. His sorry's doesn't stop, his face still pressed against your skin and with each apology his grip on you tightens. "You're exhausted, after a night of sleep you'll feel better, come with me." 

He shakes his head again, "No, no I can't-" He doesn't finish his sentence, another broken sob escaping his throat as he tightens his grip on you even further, you doubt he's even aware of what he's doing, lost in another wave of guilt.

"I promise that I'll wake you up if I'll feel you move or mumble." 

Stiles stays in place, still shaking and sobbing against you, his entire body tense with the effort to keep himself together. "Promise?" his voice is a wreck, a barely understandable whisper.

You nod, "I swear." You stand back on your feet and he lets you maneuver him until he is lying on the bed.

"I don't want to fall asleep," he whispers but it's a weak protest, his eyes are already closing.

"I know... I'll be here." you sit on the pillows next to his head and he soon finds your lap to rest on, his arm lay around your thighs next to his face, a tense sighs escapes his lips when he feels your hands rest on him again: the left on his cheek to dry the tears and the other under the collar of his shirt, right between his shoulder blades.  

His eyes flutter shut and his face relaxes at the soothing feeling of your fingers on his body... the guilt, the tiredness, the fear, he let all of that wash away from his body, focusing on your touch and your voice. He fights to stay awake for as much as he can, until the tiredness in his bones eventually drag him in a deep sleep, his breathing slows.

He looks so vulnerable, so at peace that you can see how tired he was in the way his face relaxes, the shadows under his eyes becoming more prominent against his tired face. He looks young, too young to have gone through all of those ordeals. The room door creaks as it gets opened and your eyes shot up towards the noise.

At the door a sleepy, yet worried looking Noah appears, he's dressed in his sheriff uniform, he probably just got home from his shift and you didn't hear the front door open. He looks surprised to see you here, you haven't slept in the Stilinski's house for a whole month and the past week Stiles forbade you to sleep with him so as not to scare you or make you lose sleep "unnecessarily", his words, not yours. 

You smile to wordlessly greet him and cover Stiles ear with your palm to avoid waking him up. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him for tonight, go to sleep," you assure him with a low voice.

He looks at his son, his chest rising and sinking with each breath, then at you: tired, clearly worried but still determined, he takes in the image for a moment before sighing and nodding, his own tiredness makes him accept the proposal more easily than he would have done if he hadn't been so sleep deprived. "I trust you, just... call me if anything happens."

"I will, goodnight Noah." 

He nods with a forced smile. "Goodnight, sweetheart." He closes the door behind him and you go back gazing at Stiles, your breathing coordinates with his, deep and slow, and involuntarily your eyes close a few minutes later in a light sleep... light enough to feel his breath become erratic an hour or so later. 

You immediately open your eyes and look down at him: his eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed in the way you've sadly seen too many times these days and his mouth opened to let out small whimpers between his trembling breaths. You sigh and move your hand to shake his shoulder lightly, until his eyes shot open and he takes a a breath similar to what you would usually take after staying too much time under the water.

It would have been ridiculous to think that after everything that happened to him in the last month he would stop having nightmares after just one night, but it's okay, because you know that he can get through it, and that you won't leave him to deal with this alone.

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Hope you enjoyed, recommendations, suggestions and requests are always welcome and open! <3

Do not copy or repost.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

I dreamed of the places I’ve been with you (Sam Winchester x female reader)

You have a dirty dream about Sam while the two of you are stuck in the Impala, and Sam has a… reaction to it.

Read it on AO3

Rated E. 4.1k words. Stuck in the Impala. Wet dreams. Inappropriate boners. Dirty talk. Mutual masturbation. Sammy being the sweetest dork.

“How does he keep doing that?” you sigh, a touch of admiration in your voice.

Sam chuckles. “I don’t think he can help it, honestly.”

You cross your arms over the back of the Impala’s front seat, put your chin on your hands. “They just keep throwing themselves at him,” you say.

Sam nods. “Yup,” he says. “Welcome to my life.”

Both of you keep watching as Dean talks to the single mom you just saved from a ghoul a few hours earlier. She's hot, there's no denying it, and Dean has been flirting shamelessly with her from second one. Now that she's out of immediate danger, she's flirting back.

Sam sits in the passenger seat of Dean’s car, the Impala, you in the back while you marvel at them, watching them like zoo animals where they are standing a few feet away from the car.

Just then, the hot mom’s hand lands on Dean’s arm in an oh-so-casual gesture.

“Look, look,” you say, slapping Sam’s shoulder to make sure he pays attention. “She’s about to do the horny giggle.”

A second later, the mom leans forward, cocking one of her hips as she laughs at something Dean said, then bites her lower lip.

“Wow,” Sam replies, “lip bite, too, huh?” You nod. “I guess we’ll be here a while.”

But a few seconds later, Dean turns away from her and walks towards the car, leaning into the window on Sam’s side. “Allison wants to show me her record collection.”

Sam scoffs, and you say: “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Okay, virgins,” he replies. “I’ll just hop in and you guys wait here, okay? Won’t take long.” Sam makes a face.

“Dude,” he says, “that’s not something to brag about.” You lean forward to see Dean better.

“We’re not gonna sit out here while you’re in there getting laid, Dean,” you say, your tone irritated. “We can just drive back to the motel and pick you up when you’re done disappointing her.” Sam chuckles, but Dean shakes his head.

“The motel’s an hour away,” he says. “I’m not waiting an hour to have Mom and Dad pick me up. I’m not fifteen.”

You are just opening your mouth to complain, when Dean says: “My car, my rules. You’re waiting here.”

Then he walks off back to the hot mom and the two walk into her house. Sam shakes his head.

“This is…” he says, but doesn't finish saying what it is.

“I feel like a pimp,” you offer instead. You stare at the house Dean and the woman just vanished into.

“Well,” you sigh, resigned, pushing your backpack you have on the backseat with you towards the far end of the bench, moving to lay your head down on it. “Nothing to do but wait and hope Allison’s a fast one.”

Sam chuckles and turning back to you, seeing you laid out on the bench, asks: “You wanna take a nap?” You shake your head.

“Just getting comfortable,” you say. “I’m not even tired.” You're asleep five minutes later.

You're feeling warm and your body is tense and you wake with an intense shudder.

You notice your mouth is open and your fists clenched, your chest heaving, desperately trying to suck in oxygen.

Nightmare, you think immediately, but then, noticing the intense pressure in your core as your brain iss moving further towards consciousness, nope, definitely not a nightmare.

You blink your eyes open, disoriented by the darkness in front of you and a weird rushing sound. For a moment, you have no idea where you are until you angle your head up and recognize the roof of the Impala. A few seconds later, you realize that the roaring is rain coming down on the roof of the car.

You feel shaky, but also weirdly grounded. Warm and comfortable. Pushing yourself up on your elbow, you look around.

The car is still standing in front of hot mom’s house, the memory of which is slowly coming back to you. Sam is in the front seat, his back leaned into the angle of the door and the front bench. He's looking down and when you press yourself up higher, you see that he has a huge leather bound tome on his lap, one hand slightly angling it so he can read it by the soft light of his flashlight he is holding with his other hand.

The reason the flashlight is on is not just because it's raining, but because it has gone dark, the only other light a street lamp somewhere nearby.

You run your hand over your face, trying to rub some of the sleep from it.

“Dean not back yet?” you ask.

You half expect Sam to flinch, considering how deep he is usually absorbed in his reading, but he doesn't.

“Uh, nope,” he says, only throwing you a very quick look, immediately looking back at his book. Your breathing has slowed down but when you touch your face you feel that it's hot.

“Oh,” you say, then swallow, hoping you sound normal. “Good for you, Allison.”

Sam chuckles, but it's forced. Maybe you would notice earlier that he's acting weird if you didn't look at him then, at his profile, bringing the details of your dream back to you.

It's only splinters, but it's enough to make your face feel even hotter immediately.

You dreamed about Sam. His mouth, and his hands, sucking against your throat and gripping your hair. His broad back over you, and his narrow hips moving, pushing…

You have to move your legs when you realize you're pushing your thighs together, the remnants of what you're pretty sure was the orgasm you had in your sleep coming alive immediately.

You push yourself up further to a sitting position, throwing another look at Sam quickly. He isn't looking back at you, but his jaw is clenched, the hands holding the book gripping the edges hard. Oh no. Oh no no no.

Did you make noises that told him what you were dreaming about? Did you say anything that might have given away that you were dreaming about him? Does he know that you…?

“Shit,” you mutter, involuntarily.

“Hmm?” Sam says, still not looking up.

“Nothing,” you say way too quickly. You move your legs and suddenly in abject horror wonder if Sam might be able to tell that you were still aroused, smell your sweat or your wetness, so you quickly pull your legs up, tugging your arms over your knees.

Silence, then, horrible awkward silence that makes your head spin and then makes you think of your dream-Sam again, the noises he made, like the ones the real-Sam makes when he's hurt or angry, and you wonder if that was how he sounded.

You take a sharp breath to dispel the thoughts. You are making this a lot worse for yourself, you think.

The silence continues, the only sound the rain and your breathing and your heartbeat in your ears. It's deafening. Looking back at Sam, you see that his tongue is going over his lower lip, his brow knotted in concentration.

“What are you reading?” you ask finally, unable to stand it anymore. This time Sam does flinch.

“Uhm, uh,” he stutters and then he actually slightly turns over the front cover of the book because he has to look at it to see what he's reading. Weird, you think. He looked so concentrated.

“It’s, uh,” he continues, “a history of this underground society that basically, uhm,” he looks at the page again, seemingly completely forgetting what this underground society did. While he's still looking for the answer, you chuckle a little.

“Sounds like it’s real engaging,” you can't help but tease him. Sam grins.

“It is,” he says. “I mean it was.” You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn't.

“Let me see?” you say, holding your hand out to him. Sam usually loves it when you show interest in whatever he's obsessing over that week, but he looks up and then at you with shock on his face.

“No,” he says. You wrinkle your brow.

“What?” you ask.

“It’s just,” Sam says, “I don’t think you’d like it.”

"What are you talking about?” you ask. “I love cults, or societies or whatever, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam says, “I just don’t think you’d like this one.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, then, forgetting your worries about your body, lean forward, over the bench and pull the book from his hands. Sam doesn't fight you, but fidgets in his seat when you sit back, leaning forward a little. You look at the book, keeping it open at the page Sam was on.

“This even has illustrations,” you say, then look up at Sam. “Sam, I’m a sucker for illustrations, what do you mean I wouldn’t like this?” Sam doesn't reply immediately, just clears his throat.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little more quiet. “I know.”

He isn't making any sense, so you lean forward and pass the book back to him. He's just grabbing for it when you look down.

There's a considerable bulge in Sam’s pants.

You immediately lean back, but Sam knows you’ve seen it. He lays the book back over his lap, his lips in a tight line, looking anywhere but at you.

The brothers and you live so closely together that this shouldn’t be a big deal. You’ve seen Dean in several states of undress and walked in on him and a hook-up more times than you can count.

But Sam has always been more private, more considerate, you might say. He changes his clothes where you can't see, even though, if you're being really honest, you want to see. It has gotten to the point where seeing him in a t-shirt sometimes gets you flustered, so starved are you for seeing more of him.

So this, while it shouldn’t be, feels like a big deal. A big deal. You chew the inside of your lip and that awful silence is back.

“Sam,” you say, and he immediately says: “Don’t, okay?” His tone is gentle, though. “This is really embarrassing, I feel like a damn teen.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” you reply, because it really isn't, thinking of your own little excitement mishap. To tell the truth, the thought that Sam is sitting there, hard, is not helping you calm down any.

Hoping to make things less awkward for him, you say: “I mean, illustrations get me going, too.” Sam looks up, and then understands a second later. He looks away, grimaces, and some of the discomfort seems to dissipate from him.

“Wasn’t the illustrations that did this,” he says, a small bashful smile on his lips.

“Oooh,” you say, nodding. “Hot mom Allison and her record collection?” Sam actually chuckles, and you feel proud of yourself. Crisis averted. Now you can just go back to pining for Sam without the chance that anything is ever going to come of it.

But then he shakes his head, and his expression turns serious.

“Wasn’t her either,” he replies, his voice quiet. Then he looks at you, his head slightly turned to the side. “What did you dream about?”

A wave of heat goes through you. So you did make some noises. Goddamn it. A flash of dreaming about Sam kissing you roughly goes through your head, his lips bruising yours. But maybe you just made general noises, dream noises. Maybe you can convince him it was a nightmare.

“Uh, not sure,” you say, and it's your turn to stutter now. “Why, did I, like, say anything?” Sam licks his lip, still looking at you. You se him swallow, his throat moving.

“Uhm, you were kind of sighing? And, and,” Sam clears his throat, then continues. “And your body was really tensing up, and I thought maybe it was a nightmare but then you… moaned?” Sam looks down at his lap where the book is. So much for your amazing plan.

“Oh,” you say, pretending this is surprising you. “Sounds like a fun dream.” Like you don't remember the warm waves going through you when you woke up, the lightness and then the delicious heaviness. Sam nods.

“You were also kind of, uhm,” he continues, and you're not sure why he is telling you all this, why he can't just downplay this like you did his stupid boner. “You were also kind of…writhing. And moving your hips a lot. And your face was…” Sam swallows again. “You had this expression that was really sexy.”

Your mouth drops open. Sexy?

Sam keeps going: “It looked like you were in pain for a  second and then it was gone and it just looked…sexy.” He’s said it twice now and you feel heat go through you. What is he even saying?

Sam licks his lips again, the short view of the muscle making you press your lips together, and then he looks back at you. “And I guess I was maybe watching you and listening to you and that’s what lead to this whole situation.”

Your breathing is going heavy and you wondered if Sam notices. What is going on with you might generally be easier to hide than what Sam has going on, but you're pretty sure that right then it is clear as daylight. Sam is hard because he listened to you having your sexy little dream. The dream that was about him. Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick. How are you going to ever deal with that?

“I’m—I’m flattered,” you say quietly. Sam smiles a little.

“It doesn’t weird you out?” he asks carefully. You shake your head.

“No, it’s actually kind of appropriate,” you reply. Sam frowns.

“Appropriate?” he asks. You can't help but grin, suddenly feeling a little mischievous. “Yeah, cause the dream I had was about you.”

Well, it's out there now, that's for certain. You watch Sam’s reaction, wondering if he's about to be the one who's weirded out. But he isn't. He keeps looking at you and you notice that his breathing has gotten heavier too. Something twitches in his jaw and he leans one arm on the back of the front bench. Just lying there, not doing anything, but its closeness, seeing his hand splayed there causes a reaction in you that you did not anticipate.

You press your legs together where you still hold them against you, and Sam’s eyes shoot down for just a moment, tracking the movement. Then he looks up at your face again.

“What was I doing,” he asks, voice low, “in the dream?” Your teeth find your lip at his words, the need to press down on something strong in you suddenly. This is happening. This is really happening.

“You… were touching me,” you say.

“Where?” Sam asks. His voice isn't shaky at all, it's steady, confident suddenly, which is not something you would have expected from him. You try to remember the dream, thinking for a second.

“Everywhere,” you say. “But you started with my face.”

Sam’s eyes meet yours then and both of you look at each other for a moment. You feel your eyelids flutter at your renewed arousal, the heat between your legs becoming uncomfortable. Sam nods.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asks, voice still steady but breathing harder. You move your shoulders.

“I do,” you say, “but it’s making me, uhm, it’s making me a little…”

Sam nods again. “Me too.”

There's silence for a moment again, and then Sam and you notice at the same time that you're rocking yourself against the bench beneath you. You stop immediately, but Sam says in the same moment: “Keep going.”

Fuck. You really want to. You really want to but this was so…

Shouldn’t you kiss first? Go on a date? Hold hands? You're not sure about any of this, only that Sam is looking at you and that you want to touch yourself.

“Are you gonna...?” you ask, too nervous to say more.

Sam nods. “If that’s okay with you?” Oh wow, is it ever okay with you. You nod.

Sam’s arm over the back of the bench doesn't move, but you can see the shoulder of his other arm does. He turns the flashlight off, the light from the street light still letting you see him, then you hear the flash light fall to the floor, and his arm keeps moving.

So you push your ass further down on the bench, meaning your legs are angled away from you a little, then let your hand slip between them, pushed into your jeans. It's a tight fit and there's another layer of clothing in-between but when you press down your lower body twitches in response.

Sam is still watching you, not saying anything, but you see his shoulder moving.

“Tell me,” he finally says, his voice so quiet as to be difficult to hear over the rain outside.

“We were,” you start, “in bed. It was a huge bed, not some dingy motel room. Nice white linen and sheets and, and we were both naked.”

Sam breathes in through his nose, and you press down on yourself again, another shudder going through you. Jesus, you're sensitive right now.

“It was, uhm, it was like snippets, cause it was a dream,” you explain, and Sam nods, his eyes not leaving your face. “But in one of them, you were over me. And you were kissing my neck, sort of rough and gentle at the same time.”

“What were you doing?” Sam asks.

“I was… My head was leaned back and my eyes were closed and my hands were in your hair, holding on to you.”

“And?” Sam asks.

“And,” you reply, your fingers having found a rhythm while you're still rocking yourself against the seat. “And you were fucking me.”

Sam closes his eyes for a few seconds, a low moan escaping him.

“Did you like it?” he asks, his voice sounding a little cracked now. Holy shit, it's the most erotic thing you've ever heard in your life. Sam, the master of self-control and decency, losing it at the wet dream you had about him.

“I loved it,” you say, your own voice a little breathy. “You were big and solid and fucking me hard and making me come.”

Sam’s shoulder starts moving faster.

“I want to do that,” he says, almost panting. “I want to make you come.”

Your own rhythm is picking up, your fingers pressing hard against you, and you can feel an almost violent knot of pleasure building in you.

“Do it, Sam,” you say, and your other hand going to your breast, finding the nipple and pinching it through the fabric.

“I want to see that face you made,” Sam pants. “Really hear you, hear you say my name when you come.”

He looks into your eyes then and your vision almost becomes blurry. “I want to feel you come while I’m inside of you.”

Then your body is tensing, everything pulling inwards, your eyes squeezing shut and a pained sounding noise leaves you, and a second later your head falls back on the bench, a sob of "oh God" leaving you as wave after wave of intense pleasure rolls through you.

You're breathing hard, eyelids heavy but then your eyes fly open when your hear Sam curse under his breath.

“Fuck,” he says, and you look at him just in time to see him also squeeze his eyes shut, his shoulders drawing up and his face making the most beautiful expression you have ever seen. He groans once and then lays his head back, panting, features full of bliss, all tension gone from him.

You're both quiet for a while, letting your bodies calm down, your breathing adjust.

After a few minutes, you see Sam move out of your half-closed eyes, and he's looking at you again.

“Holy shit,” he says, his face unbelieving. You can't help but laugh.

“Holy shit indeed,” you respond. He grins at you, lopsided. Then his attention is drawn away, and he opens the glove box, rummaging around for a second. He pulls something from it and holds it up for a second, a shy smile on his face. It's a box of tissues.

“Gotta clean up,” he mumbles, pulling a few tissues out and then throwing the box back into the glove box. You see him move his arms, a concentrated look on his face as you study at his features, watch at him move.

“I think I’ll skip the cleaning process,” you say after a while, “and go straight for new underwear.” Sam grins again.

“I know I didn’t do anything,” he says and seems to be finished with what he's been doing. “But why does that feel like such a compliment?” Now it's your turn to grin.

“Believe me, Sam,” you say, “it is a compliment.”

He looks back up at you, his boyish grin slowly dropping from his face.

“Do you,” he says, suddenly seeming nervous again, “want to maybe, uhm, have dinner with me some time? I mean I know we have dinner together all the time, but I mean, like a….”

He falters for a second, so you finish his sentence. “A date?”  

Sam nods. “A date.”

“I think we did this the wrong way around,” you say, instead of answering. “I think you’re supposed to have dinner first and then come at the same time.”

Sam’s laugh surprises and thrills you.

“I guess it’s a little untraditional,” he says, nodding.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Sam,” you reply, and he beams at you, making you want to kiss him. So you do. Despite what you had just done, it still makes you nervous.

You lean forward, pushing yourself up until you're up to the front bench. Sam moves forward as well when he realizes what you're doing and then your lips met.

The angle is awkward, the bench pressing against your boobs and when Sam tries to get his hand up to cup your face he has to first turn his upper body, break the kiss and then lean in again.

It's perfect. It's just awkward and uncoordinated as a first kiss should be, no matter what else you have done.

When you stop kissing, you faces still close, you grin at each other like idiots. You kiss Sam's cheek, just because you felt like it.

Suddenly the light outside changes and you both turn to look. It's hot mom’s porch light and a second later you see Dean come outside and jog down towards the car, collar up to stop the rain from getting in.

You lean back on the bench, and Sam turns again, pretending he's sitting normally in his seat.

Dean makes it to the driver’s side, quickly opens the door and sits inside, making a few drops of rain spray everywhere.

“Now,” he says, closing the door behind him. “That little bit of waiting wasn’t so bad, was it? You kids have fun?”

There's silence for a moment, then Sam picks up the book from where it has apparently fallen into the foot well on his side.

“Yeah,” he says. “We entertained ourselves.”

Dean opens his mouth, probably to make fun of his brother’s nerdiness, but then closes it again. He sniffs. Your body tenses and you see Sam’s do the same.

“Did you guys screw in here?” Dean asks, eyebrows high and eyes narrowed.

“No!” you and Sam say at the same time. It's technically true, depending on your definition of screwing. Dean looks back at you and then at Sam, suspicion on his face.

“Mmh hmm,” he says, then looks forward, starting the car. Sam throws a quick look back at you and you have to suppress your grin. 

Once you've been driving down the dark roads for a few minutes, Sam puts his arm back over the back of the front bench. Instead of laying it on top, however, he lets his arm dangle over it, letting it swing until his hand finds your leg. When he does, he squeezes it.

You bring your hand forward as much as you can without moving, hoping not to draw any attention to yourself. Finding Sam's big, warm hand, you lay yours over it, gently stroking it with your thumb.

You look up, and Sam is grinning in the dark.

[babygirl-riley]

His Girls

Simon had to go into work throughout the craziness of the Riley household he lost his plastic skull mask. Only to find his youngest chewing on it.

Warnings: PURE fluff, seriously dad!simon, swearing

A/N: I am OBESSESSED with dad!Simon and to FEED my addiction @ave661 just keep coming in clutch! Go subscribe their pateron! Just a small drabble for you all ❤️

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon was running around throwing on small amount of gear, only going to the base. He put his mask on and realized he missed placed his skull that was suppose to be with it. “Daddy,” His five year old cried. “I don’t wanna have you go.” She held his leg.

“Daddy has to,” You said as your pre teen followed you. She was rambling on how she wanted to go to the mall with her friends but couldn’t. “Millie enough.” You said behind you to his oldest.

“Dad.” Millie looked at him and he shook his head.

“Do what ya mum says.” He looked down at Allison and kneeled down. Millie scoffed and walked off. “I’m not gonna be long promise. We will go get ice cream.”

Allison pouted. “Okay.” She walked out before Simon turned to you.

“I can’t find my fucking mask,” He cursed ripping through everything. “I had it ‘ere now it’s gone.”

You nodded. “Have you checked between the drawers?”

Simon nodded walking out. “Dad! I promised Jackie that I would be there, now what do I do?”

Simon loved his kids he did but damn he didn’t expect having all girls would make his head spin. You even joked about how soon Millie will start her womanhood and then they were fucked. Simon jogged down the stairs looking in the kitchen. “Millie, your mum said no, you think I’m going to say yes after? Ya know not to make promises that you don’t know if you gonna keep.” He explained not looking at her.

Millie groaned. “Listen though everyone goes out with their friends to the malls at this time. Not later. Plus they all can’t go.”

Simon snapped his head up looking on the counter. “I thought it was just Jackie.” You said having his baby youngest in your arms. She was wrapped in her blanket as she set her down in the living room that we connected to the kitchen.

Tessa giggled as she looked up at the tv. Playing with something in her hands. Simon sighed irritated, time was running short, he was running behind, and his patience running thin. Millie and you were arguing back and forth, as Allison came running down the stairs to watch tv. Simon inhaled deeply looking around again. “Your father agrees with me. I am done talking about this. You are not going, we have to be at Nana’s today.” You said putting your foot down.

Simon looked up and waited for Millie to respond. She just rolled her eyes and stomped off, you pressed fingers against your temples. “Alright Simon I am going to look in Allison’s room maybe she was playing with it.”

Simon nodded as he kept looking through and stood for a moment thinking where it could be. Trying to think where the fuck he put it. Nerves were high. He was getting anxious of being late. His thought started to swirl making his anger higher. Until he heard a small giggle.

Simon looked down to see Tessa on her back gnawing on something. Larger than her for sure. His eyes softened when they made eye contact, the blanket moving over to the side to see his mask. He inhaled with relief as he knelt down. “You bugger.” He whispered ripping his balaclava off.

Tessa giggled, he always loves the sound of his girls laughing giggling. It made him miss and think of Millie when she was this young. Innocent. Naive. Hell Tessa even had the same outfit that Millie wore. When both of you kept having kids and they were girls, he couldn’t or wouldn’t let you get rid of this outfit. It was his favorite.

Simon sat Tessa up and turned her towards him. She stopped chewing on it but held onto it. Her way of rebelling of him leaving for the day. Simon chuckled and grabbed the top of it. “Daddy will be back sweet girl.”

Tessa just had her large brown eyes set on him. Simon looked at the features, seeing Tommy and his mom in them. Making him think of his nephew Joseph and how Millie and him could have been close. How you could have a friend with Tommy’s wife. He often thought about it when looking at his girls. Millie definitely was a slit image of you though, personality to features.

Allison would just attach whenever she wanted to, independent like him. Tessa though was definitely daddy’s girl, anytime he would walk into a room she would know. Hell when you were pregnant with her she would move when hearing his voice. When he forgot to take the mask off she giggled and reach for it. Anytime he came home she was thrilled, screeching and giving sign to pick her up.

Tessa giggled as she reached for his thumb grabbing it. These moments he loved, the small gestures. The smiles. Giggles. It made him have that stir inside, the one that wants him to have another baby. His girls were his angels, so why not have more? More of these innocent kids that he made. His pride and joys. He didn’t want to go, he rather be here, with his girls. Go get ice cream now. Simon sighed as he looked up the stairs to make sure Millie wasn’t standing there so he could go say a proper goodbye for the day.

Allison came next to Simon as she hugged his thigh and looked at Tessa. “Daddy said we can get ice cream Tess! Sooner he leaves the sooner we get ice cream!”

Simon smiled down at her, he thought how smart she was becoming. Her sentences making more sense. Allison was like him, truly. Short tempered. Emotional ball. At the same time though she was thick skinned, she could take a hit until she can’t take it. She was caring, always sharing even if she didn’t want to. Would try to make everything more lighter when things got tense. At 5 years old.

“Exactly,” He felt his plastic mask loosen up and he softly took it away. “I love you baby girls.” He said kissing both of their foreheads. “I’m gonna say bye to ya sister, watch Tess yeah?”

“Yes sir daddy!” Allison chimed as she started to gather Tess’s attention.

He looked down at the stairs watching Tessa giggle and squeal at her sister. Simon walked towards Millie’s room, hearing her soft rock play behind the door. He knocked softly as he heard the music turn down. “Who is it?” She said snarky.

“Dad.” He said softly, he heard the knob unlock, having him note of that being a potential problem. She walked to her desk, sitting in her chair looking away from him. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Like him, distant once he was angry. “Have fun at Nana’s.” He softly said walking to her to place a kiss on her head.

“Love you.” She mumbled looking over at him.

“Love ya too dovie. I’ll see ya after work.”

She nodded to his comment as he walked out to face you. You sighed smirking. “Of course daddy comes to save the day.”

Simon smirked as he walked up to you placing his hands on your hips. “She’ll come ‘round,” He whispers kissing your neck. “Want baby 4?”

You pushed him off, giggling. Your stomach swirling with excitement. “Oh no Tessa have you the swirl,” He kissed your neck again, mumbling a yes. “Oh stop it, you’re gonna be late. Get going.” You giggled pushing him gently off before kissing his cheek.

When you turned he slapped your ass. His favorite thing to look, touch, grab. You scoffed, shaking your head while chuckling. Heading down the stairs to the other two girls. Simon smiled as you watched the two play, his girls. His angels. And the thing was…He would never change a thing.

[s0urw00lf]

Protectors: wolf’s bane

A Derek hale x reader story

Summary: y/n, Derek and stiles were tasked with finding out who it was that sent Allison the message that night in the school.

“Faster?” She asked checking her rearview mirror

"Much faster" Stiles replied looking out the back window at some hunter who was hot tailing them in Derek's car.

Y/n switched gears and pressed down a little bit more on the gas, "and he said id never step foot in the drivers seat" y/n muttered to herself.

"Y/n im not sure you're quite grasping the concept of a car chase" stiles said looking back.

"If she goes any faster it'll kill us" Scott said from the back, as y/n looked through her rearview mirror

"well if she doesn't they're gonna kill us" stiles argued back. He had a point so y/n pressed down harder on the gas's pedal.

Stiles kept looking back "hey they're gone" he said, making y/n check her mirrors again and she slowed down a little bit.

Stiles bought out a radio that y/n guessed belonged to his father. 'All units, suspect is in foot heading into the ironworks' the sheriff said. Y/n sighed speeding back up, quickly arriving at the location, stopping when she saw Derek crouching behind a machine. 'Get in' stiles said opening the door and hopping in the back. Someone from above them began firing shots at them and y/n was quick to pull off before he could even close the door.

"What part of laying low don't you understand?" Scott scolded from the backseat.

"Damnit i had him" Derek said ignoring Scott's comment.

"Who the alpha?" Stiles asked. "Yes! He was right in front of me but then the friggin police showed up" Derek said aggrieved.

"Woah, hey they're just doing their jobs" stiles was quick to defend and Derek practically glared him back into his seat

"yeah thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire state!" Derek said now glaring at Scott.

"Can we seriously get passed that? i made a dumb ass mistake, i get it but y/n didn't say anything" Scott whined.

"Hey i was in the middle of keeping you two plus the three additions alive while trying not to think about my boyfriend who was lying dead in the school parking lot. So excuse me for not being all that rational" y/n said defensively

"alright!" Stiles shouted from the back to shut everyone up.

"How did you find him?" Stiles asked.

Derek looked between Scott and stiles and shook his head brushing off the question. "Can you try to trust us for at least half a second?" Scott asked

"yeah both of us" stiles added, earning another glare from Derek.

"Come on der, share with the class" y/n muttered lowly, knowing everyone in the car heard.

"The last time i talked to my sister she was close to figuring something out, she found two things. First a guy named Harris-"

"our chemistry teacher?" Stiles asked interrupting Derek.

"Why him?" Scott questioned

"I don't know yet" Derek said

"and what's the second?" Scott asked.

"This symbol" Derek said as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and showed it to the two, as y/n had already known this bit of information.

Scott made a face that y/n caught through the mirror, "what? You know what that is?" She asked.

"I've seen it. On a necklace" He trailed off. Derek looked at him in confusion before Scott finished off his statement "Allison's necklace"

——————————-

" this is gonna be impossible you know" Scott says to y/n and stiles as they walk through the entrance of the school.

"Why don't you just ask her if you can borrow it?" Stiles asks.

"And how is he supposed to do that?" Y/n asked.

"Easy ' hey, Allison can I borrow your necklace? To see if there's anything on it or in it? That can lead me to an alpha werewolf that i need to kill in order to get back together with you'" Stiles says. Scott smacks his chest "dude you're not helping" he says.

Stiles points to y/n "why cant you just ask to borrow it? You know girl code or whatever." Stiles asks waiving his arms in his usual manner.

Y/n looked at him as if he'd grown two heads "you want me to ask to borrow an heirloom that currently lies in the hands of someone I'm not even sure likes me, keep in mind said family hates me the previous owner especially, and if by chance i was to be seen with said heirloom id be shot in the heart with an wolfsbane laced arrow? No thanks" y/n said shaking her head before walking off.

A little later y/n came across Scott being threatened by Jackson, she groaned quietly stomping her foot before she walked up and grabbed him by his shoulder "hiya Jackson, i seem to recall where you got this little... scratch from" she said, pulling down the neck of his jacket slightly to get a better view of it.

"You don't happen to want another one do ya?" She asked in a sickly sweet tone.

Jacksons face mirrored someone who'd seen a ghost as he shook his head no. "Oh no? Well id suggest you run along then hmm?" She said pushing him forward and he hurried away.

"So he knows huh?" She asked folding her arms leaning against the lockers.

"Yeah" Scott said, looking worried. "Well let's hope I'm not assigned to him" she muttered walking away.

———————

Y/n followed stiles to where Scott was sitting at the lunch table, separating only so she could sit across from them.

“did you get it?" Stiles asked as he sat down.

"Not exactly" Scott answered, shaking his head

"Well what happened?" Y/n questioned as she sat her backpack on the ground behind her and plucked her phone out of one of the pockets.

"She told me not to talk to her at all" he said defeated.

Stiles took a huge bite of his chicken tender "so she's not giving you the neck-"

"she's not giving me the necklace" scott confirmed.

Y/n placed her head in her hand. "Scott what the hell did you do" she said, lightly banging her head on the table feeling defeated.

“I showed her photos of us from when we were together.” He stated as if it was obvious.

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock and slowly lifted her head up to look at Scott. “You did what?!” She all but shouted.

Scott and stiles looked at her confused.

She dropped her head to her hands and dragged them through her hair. “Scott she already feels bad for breaking up with you. Showing her those photos was just about the dumbest thing you could’ve done. Not only for the necklace but for your relationship.” She explained.

Scott groaned, letting his head fall back. “Okay well did you find anything else out?” Stiles asked still chewing his food.

Scott sighed “just that i know nothing about girls and that they’re completely psychotic.” Scott said defeated

“That’s high school for ya” y/n muttered.

”okay, well i came up with with a plan b just in case anything like this happened” stiles said

”what’s plan b?

“just steal the stupid thing” stiles said

”that’s what i thought he was gonna do in the first place” y/n said as she checked her phone for any messages from Derek

“can we try to at least get to Harris?” Scott asked, seemingly wanting to weigh out his options.

stiles shook his head “my dad put him under a 24-hour protective detail okay the necklace is all we got, steal it. Thank you.” He replied

scott sighed in defeat meeting y/n’s eye from across the table as she began packing up her things “look it shouldn’t be that hard, you’re a werewolf for god-sake just steal the damn thing” she said, standing up and walking out of the lunchroom.

——[time skip]——

When the last bell of the day rang, y/n met up with stiles, whom she'd asked for a ride since 1. Derek wasn’t supposed to be anywhere on school grounds at the moment, and 2. She wanted to see Noah before he went off to the parent teacher conference, which she didn’t have the best feeling about.

Y/n walked in stiles room, immediately sensing Derek’s presence, she looked at him in irritation “what the hell de-“ but the sound of Noah calling out for stiles cuts her off

“hey stiles!”

“yo da-erek” stiles faltered.

Derek's eyes widened and guestered for stiles to deal with his dad who was just outside the door.

Y/n listened to the exchange between the two stillinakis completely forgetting her intentions for coming as she stared at her careless boyfriend.

"What'd you say?"

"What? I said yo... D-Dad'."

"Uh, listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game."

"Uh, listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game."

"I'm very happy for you. And I'm really proud of you."

"Oh, thanks. Me too. I'm happy and proud... Of myself."

"So they're really gonna let you play, right?"

Yeah, dad. I'm first line. Believe that?"

"I'm very proud."

"Oh, me too. Again, I'm- oh." Noah goes to hug Stiles. "Huggie... Huggie, huggie..." Stiles trailed off awkwardly patting his dads back

“Alright see you there,” Noah said pulling away from his son

”take it easy” Stiles responded

Noah nodded, walking away before pausing “y/n how about coming to say hello next time” he said, and then took his leave.

y/n sighed as her memory had been re jogged

Stiles entered the room again letting out a sigh of relief as he closed the door, only to be pinned to it by Derek, y/n was quick to put herself between the two “Hey, cool it alright” she warned putting some distance between them.

She could handle the jabs all day long but as soon as it began to get handsy she wasn’t going to tolerate it. Y/n decided it was okay for her to move now and settled down on Stiles's bed. Derek quickly looks from y/n to Stiles and points to him

“if you say one word-“ he began but was quickly off by Stiles

“oh, what, you mean like hey Dad Derek hales in my bedroom bring your gun?” He asked sarcastically.

Derek doesn't say anything at his remark, realizing just how ridiculous it sounded. Stiles took that as his cue to keep going “Yeah that’s right, if I'm harboring your fugitive ass that means it's my house, my rules buddy” he said back handing Derek’s shoulder.

Derek nodded in response and fixed Stiles’ jacket, and Stiles did the same to him with a goofy grin on his face and walked away but jumped when Derek fake lunged

“oh my god!”

y/n let a laugh slip through her lips at Derek’s antics.

“Scott didn’t get the necklace?” Derek asked

”no he’s still working on it, but there’s something else we can try” Stiles answered

Catching both y/n and Derek’s attention, as she hadn’t known any of what he was talking about, Derek made a ‘what’ gesture telling him to elaborate.

“The night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to Allison asking her to meet him there,” Stiles said

”So?”

”So, Scott didn’t send it,” y/n said, slowly catching on to what Stiles was saying

”well can you find out who did?” Derek asked

“No not us, but I think I know of someone who can,” he said

—————

“you want me to do what?” Danny asked baffled

“Trace a text,” Stiles said casually ” I came here to do lab work-- that's what lab partners do.”

”And we will! ...Once you trace the text.”

“And what makes you think I know how?” Danny asked fidgeting slightly

“I had him look up your arrest report, so–“ y/n cut in

”I-I was thirteen. They dropped the charges.” Danny said defensively

“Whatever,” Stiles said pitching his voice up a few octaves

.“No, we're doing lab work.” Danny stated.

He then grabs a stool from somewhere near y/n and pulls it up beside Stiles, sitting down and looking at the computer.

Y/n watched Danny in amusement as he looked back to Derek who sat in a chair next to her, fake reading a book.

“Uh- who is he again?” He asked

“My cousin… Miguel” Stiles said, the laugh y/n almost let out would’ve had Derek death staring at her, so she decided against it

”he’s also my boyfriend, cute one isn’t he?” y/n asked teasingly

Danny nodded slightly “I guess,” he said feeling uncomfortable

Looking back at him y/n finally noticed the dried blood on his shirt, but before she Could cover it from Danny’s wandering eyes he spoke up

“is that blood on his shirt?” He asked

Stiles whipped around to see and Y/n winced, “Yeah, yes. Well, he gets this horrible nose bleeds” Stiles explained, y/n had never been prouder at how quick Stiles was to come up with a line than at that moment.

“Hey, Miguel?” Stiles said, turning to Derek. Derek lifted his head with a glare dead set on stiles. “I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts,” he said, gesturing to his dresser.

y/n watched in amusement as Derek slammed the book shut and began to take off his shirt, walk towards the dresser, and grumpily rummage through it for a shirt

”uh stiles”

“yes”

” This… no fit!” He said as he tugged at the shirt irritably

”then try something else on” Stiles stated obviously

y/n then got up and pulled a shirt out handing it to him with a small smile on her face, Derek squinted his eyes but pulled the shirt over his head

”Hey, this looks pretty good, what do you think Danny,” y/n asked turning to Danny who was not so discretely eyeing Derek

”Huh?”

”the shirt” Stiles confirms catching on to y/ns game

” It uh- it's not really his color” he answered timidly

“I agree,” y/n said inspecting the the shirt with a fake frown

Derek glared between Stiles and y/n before pulling off the shirt.

Y/n saw Stiles turn the computer to Danny

”you swing for a different team but you still play ball don’t ya Danny boy?”

”you’re horrible people”

”We know it keeps us awake at night, anyway about that text”

“Stiles! None of these fit!” Derek seethed frustrated

Stiles just looked from Derek to Danny with wide eyes

“I'll need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of the text,” Danny said making Stiles lean back and throw his arms up in a quiet celebration

Y/n paced stiles while she waited for Danny to retrieve the information they needed

“There. The text was sent from a computer. This one.” Danny said making y/n walk behind them and peer over their shoulders

“Registered to that account name?” Derek asked

“No, no, no, no. That can't be right.”

Y/n frowned in confusion at the name she read on the computer

‘Melissa McCall’

——

“Did you get the picture?” Scott asked, voice ringing through the car as Stiles had him on speakerphone

” Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing.

“Hey, is there something on the back of it?” Derek asked after nearly yanking stiles arm so he could bring the phone closer to him

“I mean there's gotta be something-- an inscription, an opening, something…” y/n said from the back seat

“No, no, the thing's flat. And, no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you? You're supposed to be here. You're first line.” Scott said to Stiles, and just as his sentence finished y/n heard coach in the background

“Where the hell is Bilinski???”

“Man, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start…”

“I know. Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him... tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little bit late, okay? All right, thanks.”

“You're not gonna make it,” Y/n said grimly. She knew how happy he was when he got first line, and how happy Noah was for him

“I know,” Stiles responded with the same emotion

“And you didn't tell him about his mom, either,” Derek said

“Not 'til we find out the truth.”

“By the way? One more thing…”

“Yeah?”

Derek grabbed the back of stiles neck and rammed his head into the steering wheel

“Oh, God! What the hell was–“

“You know that was for. Go. Go!” Derek said, rushing Stiles out of the car.

he then looked back at y/n who raised her brows, “you wouldn’t dare” she said in a challenging tone.

“Oh just you wait” he replied with a smirk. Y/n raised her brows challengingly, making her way out of the car but Derek grabbed her arm

”where are you going?” He asked

” With Stiles, god forbid but if the alpha is in there he’s gonna need some sort of help” she explained

Derek faltered, “Just, just be careful ok?” He said

y/n smiled lovingly “Always am,” she said before closing the door

———

the pair had been walking around the hospital for 10 minutes

”yeah I said I can't find her,” Stiles said

”look, ask for Jennifer, she’s my uncle's nurse” Derek replied over the phone

”well he’s not here either-“ stiles said, making y/n look into the room in confusion \

”shit, stiles we gotta go. Now!” Y/n shouted just as Derek had confirmed her suspicions of Peter being the alpha.

Y/n looked to the side only to come face to face with Peter Hale.

“Good to see you y/n,” he said before looking over to Stiles” and you must be Stiles”

Y/n grabbed Stiles’ arm and began rushing away only to be stopped by Jennifer, peters nurse

”what are you doing here, visiting hours are over,” she said menacingly

stiles began to look back and forth between Peter and Jennifer “You.. and him… you’re-you’re the one who- and oh my- and he’s— oh, my god, I'm gonna die.” He said

“You aged beautifully” y/n sarcastically muttered to Peter

Y/n pushed him aside, just as Derek came behind her and punched the nurse unconscious

” That’s not nice, she's my nurse,” Peter said fainting a sad tone

“She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people, get out of the way”

”you think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?”

This set Derek off as he jumped at his uncle, who threw him into a wall.

Y/n wasn’t far behind, she sent a swift kick to Peter's stomach, knocking him off his feet. He was quick to regroup and grabbed y/n by her arm, flipped her over, and knocked her into the wall, much like he did that night in the school.

He then went over and picked Derek, (who struggled against his grip) up by his neck and began to drag him “My mind, my personality, were burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct.” He said before he dropped him.

“So what, you want forgiveness?” Y/n groaned from behind him kicking his feet from under him just as Derek sent a punch to his face.

Peter was back on his feet in seconds, grabbing Derek by his collar“ I want understanding.” He said before headbutting him and landing a kick to his stomach, sending him rolling back

“Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years? Slowly healing, cell by cell?” He asked turning to y/n who stood ready.

He sent a kick her way but y/n dodged it, catching his foot and knocking him off balance with hers, she then got on top of hem and sent punch after punch to his face, just as she went to throw another, he caught her fist and headbutted her kicking her into the office desk so hard that it knocked her unconscious.

——

When she woke up she was face to face with a worried stiles

“Oh thank god, I though I was gonna have to hit you” he said

Y/n groaned at her ponding head, she looked around and frowned when she didn’t see Derek or Peter

Stiles must have seen it on her face because he immediately answered the question in her head

“He left with Peter” he said

Y/n frowned as tears came to her eyes, she was in a woozy state of mind and felt upset about Derek leaving and the pounding headache she had.

Y/n’s number one problem was how emotional she was when she was in pain.

Stiles panicked, having never expected to see his sister in this state of mind. He grabbed her and bought her in for a hug, telling her that everything was okay.

“Why’d he leave?” She asked sniffling, after a couple of minutes of slowly coming back to her right mind.

Stiles sighed beside her, now his arm rested on her shoulder “I don’t know” he said, wondering the same thing

[sundrop-writes]

Hiii !! We were kinda talking about this earlier (I feel like a lot of my Teen Wolf asks are gonna start like this) and it got me thinking

What do you think are the preferred romantic pet names the main pack has? Both what they call their s/o and what they like to be called ?

(would be cool to know about Derek and Isaac too, but up to you !!)

This is such a great prompt omg

Requests for Teen Wolf are OPEN - please read my Rules before requesting!

What would the pack like to be called, and what would they call you as a romantic partner?

Included: Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Derek. (I didn't include Isaac because I am still getting a feel for his character... what do sad kicked puppy boys call their partner?? aside from Mommy)

Warnings: this is mostly fluff; there is some mild sexual references; I tried to keep the reader as gender neutral as possible; mentions of past Derek/Kate - I think that's it?

Stiles loves pet names in a relationship. He would be the king of calling his partner babe or baby - it would roll off his tongue so easily, every other moment, he would be calling you 'babe'.

"Babe, can you pass my phone?" "Babe, what you wanna do for lunch today?" "Baby, have you seen my keys?"

(This also goes to show how excited Stiles is to be in a relationship. He has so much affection for you and he loves you so much, and his brain is always so excited and vibrating with 'I love them! I love my partner so much! I have to let them know!' So it's nicknames and PDA all the time.)

Your name would almost never leave his lips - unless it was an ultra serious situation and you were in severe danger. Save that, it's babe or baby. (And sometimes the others mock how much he calls you this, but he doesn't care because it means he has a hot partner that he gets to hug and kiss and fuck, which is not something to mock in his opinion.)

What do you call him? You know that he likes being called 'baby' too - but you call him any nickname and he doesn't complain about it. Pookie is one of your favourites, and you call him by that a lot, but you do call him by his name a lot more often than he calls you by your name. The two of you are a very affectionate couple (which can be annoying to the people around you) and this includes lots of pet names.

Lydia is not always a huge fan of being called pet names - in the past, being called things like 'sweetheart', 'baby', or 'honey', have just been things men have called her to objectify her or condescend toward her, so she doesn't like you calling her those things. However, the first time you called her 'angel', it sparked something inside of her and she absolutely loved it. She loves it when you casually call her angel in conversation ("Can you help me with this translation, angel?") and she absolutely adores it when you call her 'my angel' - she loves the bit of possession in the words and how the nickname is sweet and shows how much you truly love her.

If she calls you by a pet name, it is something complimentary and demure. She often calls you 'darling' or 'lover', and slips in 'my love' in casual conversation all the time. If she is talking about you to other people, she will often add complimentary adjectives onto these nicknames. ("You guys wouldn't be talking about my precious darling Y/N, now would you?" "Yes, tonight I have a date with my sweet lover. Why is that any of your business?")

She loves letting people know how good you are, and getting possessive over you in her own way.

Allison isn't someone who naturally gravitates toward calling you pet names. She would call you by your real name at first in the relationship, until something particular happened that made her choose a special nickname for you.

It could be something like - you trying extra hard to win a teddy bear for her at a carnival and nearly dislocating your arm throwing tennis balls, and then she easily shows you up at the game in a minute. (Because her aim is so much better.) And you shyly admit to her that even if it's a cheap little teddy bear, you wanted to have a cute gift to give to her - you wanted to give her a nice memory. So from then on, she calls you Teddy or 'my sweet bear', or 'my teddy bear' - because she says that you're the best gift she could have. (And she does have the little brown teddy bear on her bed as one of her most prized possessions - but technically, she's the one who won it.)

You sometimes call her Alli, and you're the only one who's allowed to do so. (Anybody else who has tried it has gotten smacked.) You also sometimes call her honey, which she thinks is cute because it means she's the honey and you're 'the bear'. But the two of you use each other's real names more often than pet names, and you usually only use pet names in private, behind closed doors, as a private, intimate form of affection.

Derek would pretend to hate pet names. He would be so anti-pet names when the two of you first start dating. And when it comes to what he likes to be called, he really doesn't like nicknames or pet names. If you called him 'babe' or something along those lines when the two of you first start dating, his whole body would freeze up and he would glare at you, and he would either storm off or it would start and epic argument.

Because those kind of nicknames remind him way too much of his time with Kate. (Which obviously ended in disaster.) Kate called him every single pet name in the book as a way to convince him that she truly loved him and sweet talk her way into his heart, so hearing it from you just gives him terrible flashbacks, and when he explains this, you easily understand it, and never call him by any pet name ever again.

But also - he loves the sound of his name coming off your lips. He truly, deeply loves it when you call him Derek. Sometimes you call him 'Der' or 'Big D' (mostly as a joke), and he likes those nicknames because they are uniquely yours, only things that you get to call him, and it makes him feel special, owned by you, loved by you. But to him, there is no better feeling than hearing your voice say his name.

Especially when you're pinned under him and moaning his name loudly - that's when he likes it best. But he also loves it during soft moments, when you whisper it to him before kissing him goodnight, your voice sleepy and sweet. He loves knowing that you feel safe enough with him to fall asleep in his arms.

As far as what Derek calls you - he definitely doesn't so typical pet names. Still, he associates all the usual (babe, sweetie, honey) with Kate's faux affection, and he doesn't want to do that to you, so as well as simply calling you by your name, he gives you a very unique nickname that absolutely steals your heart.

Moonflower.

He doesn't fully understand why you love him, and he considers himself to be darkness, and he thinks that you are the most beautiful, sweet thing in his life, so he calls you his 'moonflower' because he thinks that you are the one pure thing that can grow and thrive in the darkness he inevitably brings. You are a flower that grows in the moonlight, rather than the sunlight. This becomes such a special nickname to for the two of you to the point where you draw a picture of a flower in the silhouette of the moon and he gets a tattoo of it on his ribs, showing how much you mean to him.

(He is down bad for you, that's for sure.)

...

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