#GOD DAMNIT THIS IS FRESHMAN YEAR HISTORY ALL OVER AGAIN

[a-plethora-of-midnight-roses]

Me: *reading a poem for class*

Poem: *References The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl*

Me: *ready to go apeshit because HOLY FUCK THERES MYTHOLOGY HERE I KNOW THIS*

Poem: haha lol ur not gonna say shit about those last three lines

Me: D:

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

sk8 au week - day 1: roommates

langa glares at the door as if it has caused all his problems. as if this grey piece of flimsy wood signed him up for an international roommate program in a drunken haze after spending a night out drinking with friends.

but sadly the door is not to blame; drunk langa is. and that is why sober langa is not on speaking terms with drunk langa as of the moment.

langa’s phone dings and the blue haired boy turns his glare to the small glowing screen. the alarm says two new messages have come through. he taps on the screen and see a message from each of his friends in their collective group chat. langa reads the texts.

‘cecil: have fun w ur new roommate langa!!’

langa sends the middle finger emoji to them.

‘john: hope u get some1 cute ;)’

langa send him a middle finger too.

a text from cecil pops up.

‘cecil: aww langa u meanie u love us thoo’

‘r u sure abt that?’ langa sends back.

both langa and his friends know he’s only joking though. cecil and john are some of the closest friends langa has ever had and he wouldn’t want to lose them.

cecil’s family has lived in canada for hundreds of years and their ancestors were some of the founding tribes that still are around in reservations today. langa met them when cecil stood up to their teacher and lectured her on how her information about the native americans was biased and wrong. they then proceeded to tell the whole class the correct history of their ancestors before being sent to the principals for talking back to a teacher. langa had stood up and ran after them ignoring the teachers yells. catching up to cecil in the hall langa blurted out how he thought they were cool and was wondering if they’d like to sit with him at lunch. and that day langa made his first real friend.

langa met john about a year later. it was the winter break of freshman year and cecil was away visiting family so it was just langa at the snow resort. normally his dad came but oliver had work that day and so langa took the bus by himself. as he was walking into the resort he found the door blocked by a large snowboard stuck in the frame. standing next to the stuck board was a short red head cursing in a thick scottish accent. someone shouldered past the boy causing him to spill hot chocolate all over himself. langa had taken pity on the boy thinking he was here with a parent and had gotten their board stuck in the door so he went to help him. langa soon found out the large board belonged to the small boy who could control it like a god and was a beast on the slopes. langa bought the boy a new hot chocolate and after a bit of small talk found out the boy would be going to his school next semester. then the boy -who name langa found out was john- asked langa if he wanted to hit the slopes again and so langa found himself a second friend.

langa’s phone pings and he is pulled from his memories.

‘john: hey cecil lay off langa a bit it’s slightly our fault too

john: i mean we did get him drunk’

‘see finally some1 w some sense ty john’ langa shoots back.

langa’s phone pings again.

‘cecil: :p‘

langa smiles to himself as his friends begin to text back and forth.

langa readjusts the strap on his shoulder, trying to lessen the weight of his board.

breath langa, breath. he tells himself. your new roommate is going to be fine. and if they’re not you can switch after a semester. it’s not forever.

how langa got himself in this situation exactly he’s not sure. his mom sends him a link to a college freshman international roommate program, he scans over it, goes out for drinks with friends then wakes up the next morning with an email thanking him for his participation in the roommate program.

somehow langa had been able to fill out the survey without any problems despite being drunk. and now because of his stupid drunk decision on the other side of this grey door is a japanese exchange student who langa is going to be roommates with for at least a semester.

reaching for the handle langa contemplates running away and developing a whole new identity but a noise on the other side of the door catches his attention.

after a minute langa realizes it’s a voice. a happy bright voice babbling away to someone or something in japanese. now langa prides himself on his japanese, it’s not great but it’s good and hopefully his roommate can help him in the places where he struggles. langa tries to translate the words but the walls muffle the voice so langa gives up. reaching for the handle again langa opens the door this time. nothing could have prepared him for what was on the other side of that door.

standing on the kitchen table is a red haired boy in a hoodie and jeans. a blue headband with a character on it wraps around his head and a chain dangles from his jeans, a small wrench attached to it. langa does a double take when he realizes the boy isn’t standing on the table - he’s standing on a skateboard which is on the table. langa thinks he looks ethereal standing there balanced carefully, hair flying in all directions, eyes wild and bright. a phone sits open on the counter and langa sees a boy in a cat ear hoodie on the screen. he must be on facetime. langa thinks to himself.

“i can explain!” the boy standing on langa’s kitchen table yells in english, japanese accent sounding like sweet honey to langa ears.

but the movement of throwing his arms up in surprise has caused the boy to lose his balance and so he wobbles on his board before falling off. langa swears the redhead is held aloft for a few infinite seconds like a falling angel before he crashes onto the floor. the boy on the other side of the call barks out a laugh, calls the fallen angel a slime then disconnects from the call.

langa looks around the table to see the boy sprawled out, groaning in pain. he lets a few choice words in japanese slip past his lips.

reaching down a hand, langa let’s out a small laugh before asking if the boy is ok in japanese.

the angel on langa’s kitchen floor seems to glow at the use of his first language before babbling on in japanese about some skateboarding trick his friend dared him to do. as langa watches the boy in front of him he begins to think that maybe this roommate program isn’t such a bad thing. and as the boy catches his eye langa let’s himself smile and he this that’s this is definitely not a bad thing.

~ ~ ~

langa finishes off the rest of his drink before looking up at his friends. cecil has their nose in a book and john is staring at the florist across the street.

“so you know reki?” he starts.

“you mean your roommate?” john asks, eyes turning to langa.

“what other reki’s do we know?” cecil says not looking up from their book.

“well...i’m dating him now. we’re dating i mean.” langa watches both his friends for their reactions.

“fucking FINALLY!!” cecil yells slamming their book closed causing langa to jump.

john chokes on his drink. “damnit langa you couldn’t have waited till next semester could you? now i owe cecil twenty bucks.” he groans.

it’s takes langa’s brain a second to catch up to what john just said.

“you had a bet going?!” langa stands up abruptly. “wow ok what friends you are.” but despite the snarky tone langa had a smile plastered on his face and a warm feeling in his heart.

~ ~ ~

@sk8-au-week

[writingbakery]

“tapewebs”; a series 🕸

hanta sero is just your regular everyday japanese-american immigrant college student, living in the heart of brooklyn. when miles morales collapses on the windowsill of his shitty one bedroom apartment, life gets.... a hell of a lot more interesting 🕷

[a spiderman! sero au one shot series, featuring class 1-A, hanta sero, miles morales, an assortment of marvel villains, & you, dear reader - the object of one tapespider’s affections ✨]

[pairing; sero x gender neutral reader 🕸]

[warnings; fluff, violence, action, angst, romance, & a lot of tape/spider puns 🕸]

“Sticky Note Origins”

───── ⋆🕸⋆ ─────

the city is prettier up high, sero realizes. granted, he wishes he’d come to that conclusion on solid ground, without his feet nervously planted on a skyscraper ledge, but still.

every whip of wind threatens to topple him over, send him careening down into a frenzied spiral of buildings and colors until he meets concrete at the bottom - and he’s supposed to willingly jump.

he wonders if he’ll pass out before his bones meet solid mass, cracking in so many different ways the coroner’ll have to play connect the fragments until he’s a person again.

behind him, an impatient cough sounds, bringing him back to the task at hand. fuck.

you’re probably wondering how he got here. let’s rewind a week.

one week earlier

at ten pm on a friday, the city is in its prime, bustling crowds of people laughing and stumbling through the brightly colorful streets. hanta’s just trying to protect his pad thai & dumplings, hugging the greasy paper bag to his chest as he weaves in and out of the chaos.

a day full of long classes & a quiet shift at the cafe-slash-bookstore halfway between campus and his crap one bedroom apartment leaves him exhausted, shoulders hunched as he makes his way home. nobody ever sees him regardless - the city’s too big for one lanky, always tired beanpole to be much notice.

despite living in brooklyn since he was four, he’s never felt a hundred percent comfortable here - he had an accent right up until he was thirteen, still trips over certain words and customs that don’t exist back home in japan. he’s awkwardly tall, not enough to be a phenomenon but towering over all his family. he just doesn’t quite fit anywhere - too smart and plain to be popular, too boring to be with the jokesters, too awkward for the nerds. he’s been a loner all his life, and while he doesn’t mind too much, he just wishes it was a little easier to belong.

a text rolls across his phone screen as he’s shuffling songs, skipping some j-pop rock song to settle on kendrick lamar as he smiles. you. he couldn’t lie and say he was completely alone, not when he had you in his life.

you were a year younger than him but twice as smart, skipping a year ahead and landing yourself in hanta’s high school freshman english class. the pair of you had just... clicked, from the very first moment he pointed to shakespeare’s likeness on the cover and mocked “what, you egg?!”

your laughter had left him on cloud nine the entire day, and he made it his personal mission to hear that beautiful little giggle at least once a day for the rest of his life.

a lovely friendship had bloomed from there, the two of you joined at the hip - if you were somewhere, hanta was bound to follow & vice versa.

you’d even gotten into the same college, albeit for drastically different majors - he was a biochem/engineering double major, while you were an english/history double major. you were opposite but similar in so many ways, and the way you both completed each other didnt go unnoticed by sero.

you were his puzzle piece, the bits of him he’d never been able to fill easily made whole by your presence.

he could never tell you, however; your friendship was too precious to risk, especially over his dumb, emotional heart.

sending a string of laughing emojis towards the meme you sent, he jogs up the seven flights of dimly lit stairs to his tiny, one bedroom apartment - living in the city wasn’t cheap, & while the elevator was always busted at least he had a doorman, and heat that worked on occasion.

stepping into his apartment, however, he can immediately sense something is wrong; the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, a heavy silence coating the darkness. the air feels wrong, tipsy turvy like the whole place is holding its breath - like something’s on the verge of exploding, catapulting him into chaos and danger.

quietly stepping through the living room, he peeks into the kitchen and bathroom, holding his backpack out like a makeshift weapon - his $200 biology textbook finally going to good use. finding nothing in either dark room, he slowly advances towards his bedroom, carefully measuring every step. at first, the room seems perfectly normal - nothing’s been moved, and it’s just as empty as the rest of his apartment.

and then he sees the blood.

dotting his windowsill in bright, red streaks, the window itself pushed halfway open - but that’s not what stops him in his tracks, eyes so wide it hurts.

spiderman is leaning against his windowsill, covered in blood and panting heavily, one hand held up in an effort to stop hanta in his tracks.

“i need...... help,” he whispers, voice rough and low; hanta’s amazed he can still speak.

he opens his mouth to react, somehow, even steps forward to catch him before screaming like a ten year old girl at a morgue, panic setting in like cold water.

never a dull night in brooklyn.

───── ⋆🕸⋆ ─────

once he’s made sure that spiderman - miles, as the young man bleeding all over his $12 walmart carpet supplies - isn’t going to die anytime soon, hanta’s quick to recover from his shock. bustling around his tiny kitchen to make cheap ramen and digging around in his closet to find his mini first aid kit, he’s in full fanboy mode - he’s got posters plastered wall to wall of miles morales on his bedroom walls, for gods sakes. not that he knew it was miles morales, but still.

miles morales is curled up in the fleece blanket hanta’s mom had sent him his second week at college, and he’s totally not freaking out.

he’d had to cancel his nightly facetime call with you, lying about a stomach bug - he hates keeping things from you, but this is just too big and messy and dangerous. he’ll tell you in due time, he promises himself, trying to ease the coil of guilt in his stomach.

“how did you end up on my windowsill, again?” hanta asks, gently pushing the bowl of noodles towards the injured man. he’s got his own pad thai long forgotten in the microwave, more focused on the superhero who’d gotten his ass whooped on his doorstep, so to speak.

“i told you. i’d been watching you for a while - you’re the most promising candidate i have.” miles’ voice is slick with humor, a sort of teasing confidence that’s clear even through the pain.

“which i’m still not understanding - candidate for what? blood services? biology questions? how to make $20 last two weeks??” he knows he’s being childish, too joking for the severity of the situation, but he can’t help it. the neighborhood’s - and his own - hero is sitting in front of him, eating shitty 33¢ ramen from the bodega around the corner, telling him he’s a prime candidate.

“to take the mantle.” all traces of laughter are gone now, miles leaning forward on the table to emphasize his words. “i’ve been doing this long enough to know when to quit. my body’s giving out on me - i got slammed into a wall last week and couldn’t shake the pain till yesterday. before, i’d be fine within an hour. the city needs someone new, young, willing to take the risks.”

hanta’s ears stopped listening the moment he heard quit. “me? are you fuckin’ joking?” he wheezes, coughing his way past the shock. “i get winded walking up to my apartment! an old lady beat me to the c train yesterday! a strong wind could kick my ass!”

miles is either willfully ignoring him or just can’t hear, plowing ahead with his explanation. “you’ve got the perfect build for webswinging, and you’ve got a good heart - you know when to do the right thing and when to step away. leave the rest up to me, and trust me - i know what i’m doing.”

hanta can’t believe his ears, pushing away from the table to pace around his kitchen in panic. “i don’t till you understand, you’ve got the wrong guy - there’s no way i could be spiderman!” his words are falling on deaf ears - miles is standing too, and he doesn’t seem to care about hanta’s impending panic.

“you’ve got to trust me on this, alright? meet me tomorrow, at this address - 12 pm sharp. the city needs you, hanta - hell, i need you. just have a little faith.”

hanta scoffs at that, throwing his hands in the air. “faith?! i met you an hour ago, bleeding all over my windowsill! that’s not exactly the most- hey! where the hell...” there’s nothing but a blanket, a hastily scrawled address, and an empty bowl where miles had sat, leaving hanta alone with his thoughts.

damnit.

───── ⋆🕸⋆ ─────

hanta pushes through the crowds of people at eleven am the next morning, half asleep but wired enough to power the whole city - hell, the whole goddamned country. he’s running on no sleep, adrenaline, two redbulls & the guilt of lying to you again, his “stomach bug” keeping him from class. he’d told you he was going to visit his parents for the weekend to recover; your sweet messages in response only made him feel worse.

he’s tossed and turned over this decision a million times & yet, he’s still not sure where he stands - it’s so little information, so much responsibility in so little time. he’s still half convinced he’s being punked, if he’s honest.

and yet, somethings drawing him to the address miles had left him, something deep in his gut that tells him he needs to be there. clearly, miles had seen something he himself is woefully oblivious to, and it couldn’t hurt to find out more.

apple maps leads him to a tiny shed somewhere behind a deli & a nail salon, not too far from his apartment, and he’s completely confused. “stupid gps, probably got me lost,” he whines, leaning against the door of the shed to zoom in on his location.

the pigeons in the alley are the only ones to hear his panicked yelling as he phases right through it, tumbling all the way down a metal chute into the dark unknown.

at least, for ten seconds. he lands on a remarkably soft pad of foam, a glass panel separating him from a brightly lit, fancy looking room lined wall to wall with computers, parts and half made suits, spiderman suits. he doesn’t know where to look first.

a robotic, feminine voice brings him out of his shock, the glass panel lighting up with code and writing.

“please enter your name.” hanta is floored.

“uh.. hanta sero?” the voice trills lightly, before a red grid-like laser scans him head to toe. he’s proud to admit he only squealed in terror once.

“identity confirmed. welcome, hanta.” the panel slides away to allow him access, his careful steps alerting the rest of the room’s computers to light up at his arrival.

“you came. i knew i chose wisely.” miles comes into view slowly, limping heavily as he smiles. it’s almost familiar, like he & hanta have been friends for years; he finds it comforting.

“well, not everyday you get to be spiderman,” hanta jokes, fidgeting a little where he stands. “you gonna fit me for a suit or something?” miles just laughs, shaking his head.

“that comes later. first, we’ve got to get you bitten.”

bitten?

───── ⋆🕸⋆ ─────

for the third time in 24 hours, hanta’s screaming like a man who’s just been told he has two days to live.

“you want me to let that thing bite me?! have you lost your mind?!”

miles sighs patiently, holding up the little glass vial to the light; inside, the spider races up and down the glass, an odd orange color to its patterning.

“it’s the only way. no offense, but i saw that lady beat you to the c train. she was like, 85.” hanta’s pouting now, crossing his arms.

“she had a cane and she was agile- hey hey! you keep that thing away from me, so help me god-“

“you’re being dramatic, it’s the size of a pea-“

“that’s a fat ass fuckin’ pea-“

“stay still-“

“i will not- ow! jesus fuck, that thing has tarantula jaws!”

miles carefully shepherds the spider back into the glass, chuckling a little. “it’ll take a moment to cause effect. the original spider was cross-bred with a more agile, lanky species - perfect for your body type. i’m hoping it’ll be most effective in your transition.”

“hoping?” hanta squeaks, staring at the red welt forming on his hand - his visions already starting to blur out, a throbbing pain traveling up his arm.

“well, it’s the first time i’m experimenting with this-“

“you used me as a guinea pig?!”

“it’s perfectly safe! my mentor-“ but hanta’s not listening anymore, the world swimming in front of his eyes before the ground rushes up rapidly to kiss his face.

god. damnit.

when he comes to, he’s wrapped in about half the blankets in brooklyn, a cold compress against his sweaty forehead. he’s burning up, and his elbows hurt for some reason - his skins gone all itchy, and he’d probably kick a pigeon for a glass of water.

sitting up alerts miles to his newly conscious state, the man quickly scanning his vitals with a smaller version of the glass panel hanta’d been fascinated with earlier. “thought you were gonna croak on me. how do you feel?”

“itchy. and my arms hurt.” hanta’s pushing off the blankets as he speaks, attempting to get comfortable - his body feels weird, like he’ll burst out of his skin at any second.

“alright, don’t panic. i need to see how it’s mutated your body. stay still.” miles’ fingers delicately press against his neck, shoulders, before jabbing at his ribs without warning. hanta’s arms shoot up on impulse, a trail of sticky, precise webbing escaping him from his...... elbows?!

“what the fuck, dude what the fuck look at my elbows, they’re all puffy and red i’m gonna die, and the coroner is gonna leak my story to the press and my moms gonna see me in the paper with fucked up elbows-“ hanta may or may not be panicking, poking at the tender, slightly swollen skin around the bends of his arms. miles just rolls his eyes, clearly amused by his antics.

“you’re not going to die. japanese tape spiders shoot webbing from the bends of their eight arms; its a thicker & stronger strain of web. clearly, your elbows are how your body has adjusted.”

“that doesn’t make it better.” hanta’s too busy staring at himself to notice the other changes at first, but slowly, they’re trickling in. heightened eyesight and hearing, an odd balance to his feet he hadn’t had a day ago, even itchier fingertips - making it easier for him to grip flat surfaces, or at least as miles says.

“come on. let’s get you a suit.”

───── ⋆🕸⋆ ─────

a week’s worth of planning & adjusting has led him right here to this rooftop, suited feet firmly balanced on the ledge. he likes his suit, thinks it’s unique - he’d modeled it after the spider who’d blessed him with these powers, orange and black and white [miles sort of thinks it’s ugly, but who cares.] he’d been in & out of the fondly nicknamed “spider-lounge”, getting fitted for his suit & honing his new abilities; he’d also been avoiding you whenever possible.

he couldn’t suck you into this world, not when he was barely comfortable in it himself; he kept promising himself he’d come clean, but the guilt’s eating him alive with every sad look & evening alone you spend.

another impatient cough brings him back to the present, miles sitting in the middle of the roof & watching hanta’s nervous stalling. “you’re going to have to jump eventually, you know,” he calls, and it takes everything in him not to turn tail and run.

he has a duty, a responsibility now, and he doesn’t take that lightly. he thinks of you, sitting in your ratty little apartment off campus and remembers that your safety is all but in his hands now; he’s got to protect the city, for your sake at least.

“i absolutely will not hesitate to kick you off this rooftop,” miles threatens, but its empty - they both know hanta needs to do this himself.

one step back, then two, the nerves racing up his spine as he prepares himself to meet cold concrete [a dramatic thought, miles would catch him far before he reaches ground. a bad knee wouldn’t stop him from that.] he says a silent prayer to every god he’s ever heard of and closes his eyes, taking a step forward into the air-

and trips over the ledge, falling ass over heels into the air. nice.

the rushing wind only heightens his panic for a moment, before one arm snaps up to blindly shoot into the air; his spider sense kicks in from there, aiming without even realizing and latching onto a nearby ledge. he swings aimlessly for a moment before finding a new ledge, then a railing; slowly, he finds a rhythm.

he’s soaring through the city before he realizes, laughing at the sharp roar of the wind in his ears - he feels like he’s flying, weightless as a bird. the only thing he can think of is you, how much you’d love this.

one day, he’ll take you webswinging. one day.

for now, he relishes in the fact that he’s one step closer to being brooklyn’s - & new york’s - new spiderman, fresh faced & determined to bring peace to the city.

he’s going to do it for you, even if it kills him.

[lavendertwilight89]

Random 19: she's hiding behind the sofa :D

Alright my friend here it is!!! 

Smut usually included :) 

(it is here bahahahaha)

NSFW AU

INUXKAG

Also posted here

@superpixie42 @lemonlushff @dangerouspompadour @keichanz @akitokihojo @sarah-writes-stories @clearwillow

“Kagome!!” He pounded on the door. He was fuckin’ pissed. Annoyed. At his wits fucking end. Tonight was a fucking mess. It hadn’t gone at all how he planned for it to go. He was beyond any form of reason at this point; he just wanted to be in front of his girlfriend. That. Very. Instant.

The door was looking more and more likely to be ripped apart at that point. He wasn’t even going to apologize for kicking it in. They were lucky he didn’t slash it open with his claws. After thirty or so bangs finally Sango, his girlfriend’s roommate, cracked the door and glared at him.

Now, he was a half-demon and Sango was human—however, for a human, she scared the absolute shit outta him.

“Can I help you?” she asked eyes narrowed.

“Sango, let me the fuck in!”

“And why should I do that?” She crossed her arms in front of her, still only allowing the door to open five inches.

“Sango, come on! You don’t even know what happened!! I’m here to talk to Kagome!”

“Mhm. Sure. I heard enough from Kags; unless Kikyo didn’t actually kiss you, then please, I’m all ears.”

He froze. Shit. Shit. Shitttttttt. So Kagome did tell Sango. Well, at least what Kagome thought she saw anyway.

“Sango—it wasn’t like that! Let me talk to her and explain!”

“Look Inuyasha, while I know it isn’t any of my business, Kagome is still my best friend and roommate. She’s like my sister. Apparently, something pretty fucked up happened at the bar and at this very moment, I’m about to shove my foot up your ass if you don’t start telling me exactly what happened. And no, before you ask, I’m not letting you in.”

He growled menacingly at the girl about to shove right past her to find Kagome. Sango remained steadfast though—unphased by the half-demon’s antics to intimate her.

“Sango, look, I need to have this conversation with Kagome. Don’t make me call Miroku.”

“Funny you should mention my name, Inuyasha,” Miroku popped in the open crack of the door enough for their eyes to meet. “But I’m already here, and I do have to agree with my fiancée. I think you do owe some sort of an explanation before she allows you in.”

“Miroku! Damnit! You know damn well this isn’t—”

“Do I though? Last I had heard, you refused to even speak to Kikyo and here you were making nice with her at the bar when you were supposed to getting Kagome drinks.”

“What was I supposed to say to her, ‘fuck off’?”

“Ha! Like you haven’t said that to anyone before in public,” Sango remarked.

“Grrrr, you know what I mean! I couldn’t just say that to her!” Inuyasha admonished. He was uncomfortable having to explain himself in general for what happened at the bar but his discomfort was more from the fact he couldn’t tell if Kagome was even hearing any of this and if she was, why she wasn’t willing to help him out.

“And why not?” Miroku prodded. God, he was gonna kick his ass tomorrow so much so he wouldn’t be able to do anything sexual for a month because that entire area on his body would be bruised if not broken!!!

“Miroku—” he seethed, “Let. Me. Talk. To. Kagome!”

“Inuyasha this is my home, and I told you already the rules if I were to allow you to enter—tell me what the fuck happened and why the hell my best friend came home crying!!!” he swore he saw flames surrounding Sango as she yelled at him now shoving a finger in his face ready to poke his amber eyes out.

“Look—it—Kikyo—she did kiss me. She was drunk. She had said the guy next to her was making her uncomfortable. To be honest, he kind of looked like a creep. I acted like I knew her, one thing led to another and then she…” he trailed off. Again. He wanted to just fucking talk to Kagome!

“Uh-huh,” Sango said, crossing her arms back over her chest.

“Sounds plausible enough. Come Sango,” Miroku said as he grabbed her purse off the hook.

“Wait—What?!?! No!”

“Let’s give them a moment to… talk things out,” he said with a wink to Inuyasha.

“But Miro—” Sango tried again.

“Oh, by the way, she’s hiding behind the couch.”

“Ah!” The slight gasp of betrayal come from behind said couch. Miroku closed the door behind him with a stammering angry Sango in tow before Inuyasha made his way to sit on the couch Kagome thought she could hide behind. Even without Miroku’s help, he would have been able to sniff her out.

“So… you gonna let me talk to you or are ya just gonna continue to hide?” He heard a huff from her behind the couch and then shuffling. He turned and saw his girlfriend’s tear stained face, red puffy eyes staring back at him. Her lip he liked to nip and devour was trembling in an effort to keep the already formed tears in her eyes from falling. The sight broke his heart—did she really trust him so little?

“Kagome…”

“You can just go back to her. It’s fine. I get it. History and all that… We-we can just go back to being friends…”

“What are you talking about?? Why the fuck would I want us to just be friends?! Why would I go back to HER?!” he shouted making her flinch. Fuck, he was so mad he wasn’t able to control himself. Or his temper. Was barely keeping his inner demon at bay.

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’?? Kikyo came over to our table when you had gone to the bathroom and told me everything! Then you went to the bar and got drinks and were-were—flirting with her!”

“What the fuck was there to tell Kagome?! That she wanted me back and I told her no?!”

“Stop lying Inuyasha! She showed me the texts, the phone calls, I know you’ve been trying to get in touch with her for awhile now. It—I—I know I wasn’t your first choice. I accepted that. This is still new and fresh anyway—we’ve only be seeing each other for a couple months, right? Nothing has really happened between us anyway. We can just go back to being just friends. You can be happy—I know how much you love Kikyo. It’ll be easy.”

He was dumbstruck. Texts? Phone calls?? He was fairly positive he had deleted her number out of his phone and he knew he blocked it by actually calling his cellphone provider. That’s how much he didn’t want to hear from her. He wasn’t on social media but had made Kagome block Kikyo because he knew how unstable she could be. What the fuck was Kagome going on about??

“Kagome—what—”

“Inuyasha this is really hard for me. Please, I’d prefer if we just left it as it is now… I… I really loved you. I know we hadn’t said that to each other yet, but now you know. That’s why I want you to be happy—even if it’s not with me. But I still want to be friends with you…” She stood and started to make her way to her bedroom. Like hell he was gonna let her make it there. He jumped over the couch and pinned her fiercely against the wall.

“Inuyasha!” She looked startled and scared. What was she so afraid of??

“Do not give me that horse shit, Kagome. You know damn well you are not my second choice. I met you second, yes; but that only made you my second chance. You will always be my first choice.”

“Pl-please stop—”

“Shut. Up. Kagome, I blocked Kikyo’s number and deleted it. I couldn’t call or text even if I wanted to. I don’t know what she showed you, but it was a lie. I swear on my life, on yours, I haven’t talked to Kikyo since we broke up…”

He never told Kagome why he had even broken up with Kikyo. He hadn’t wanted to scare her off or have her think he had gone crazy and was just rushing things to get her into bed. He had only confided in Miroku; which was why he knew once they had talked, Miroku would dip. Miroku trusted him. They had been friends since childhood after Miroku lost his mother at birth and father around fifth grade to cancer. Inuyasha’s family adopted him without much trouble considering they were inseparable anyway. Sesshomaru was already grown and out of the house. Miroku was the brother Inuyasha always craved for and wanted. He confided in Miroku with everything about his feelings and desires for Kagome.

His concerns had been that Kagome was young—she was only nineteen. She was in her freshman year of college while Sango was in her junior. Sango and Kagome had been childhood friends and when the dorms ran out of space for Kagome, Sango immediately offered a room in her apartment to her best friend. Sango and Miroku had started dating Sango’s freshman year so the three of them ended up spending a lot of time together. Then she had been invited over to their place and that’s when Kagome’s overwhelming intoxicating scent hit him—she was his mate.

He had been seeing Kikyo on and off for the past five years since his junior year of school; she was the only one who wasn’t totally disgusted by his half-demon nature but still refused to explore… more sexual things with him. They had made out, dry humped, did some touching, but nothing actually considered sex. Nothing that could ‘risk her purity’ in her words. Anytime things were getting heated and he thought she was pushing for more, he would make the offer to keep going but then she’d refuse him. She broke up with him out of the blue here and there after heavily ‘petting’ nights. Then she would come crawling back reeking of sex and alcohol claiming it was an ‘accident’. Said shit about how she was taken advantage of. He would be pissed off and hurt, but he understood; she was human. She had needs and refused to dirty herself with a half-demon like himself…

He honestly thought he couldn’t find better. Demons found him repulsive, weak, and too ‘emotional’. Humans were terrified of his demonic features; his silver thick hair, ears, claws, and even his amber eyes set him apart from everyone else. He was strong, fast, and for them, not emotional enough. Kikyo didn’t mind him as a person—she minded he had a demonic half. To be fair, his demon half also couldn’t fucking stand her. She wanted him to be in the new clinical trial his father’s company was testing to decrease demonic ‘abnormalities’ as she put it. There were also drugs to decrease humanity that had been tested but, the demons or humans that took it seemed beyond fucked up. Devoid of anything. They were to help demons that were highly handicapped by their split genes. He hadn’t wanted to try either of those options yet—he was satisfied with companionship… even though she wasn’t fully his, he would settle for her. Maybe he would have decided on trying out the drug eventually, that is, until he met Kagome.

Her scent alone would send him into a frenzy. He imagined her pinned down against the wall, on her hands and knees atop his bed, bent over a counter as he plowed into her. He was extra moody and ruder than normal because he couldn’t even act out his frustrations with his girlfriend. What shocked him more was how Kagome handled him. She didn’t back down—she would push him further and combat him. She always greeted him with a smile and tried her hardest to include him with everything despite his obnoxious attitude and gruff mouth. His demon was always purring in her presence and subsequently demanding him to take her right there on the couch in front of his friends.

Kikyo began to take notice in his odd behavior as well. He had started flaking on her for a change, deciding to spend more nights in with his friends instead of going out with her. She started to try to tease and taunt him with photos and videos… but they weren’t enticing by the time she had gotten that desperate for his affections… Yea, he had to admit, he was definitely attracted to Kikyo but… compared to just sitting next to Kagome, being enveloped by her scent, just the smallest touch of her against him—he realized he Kikyo wasn’t anywhere near as beautiful as Kagome. He knew he had to end the odd relationship they were in. He needed to listen to his instincts. It wasn’t fair to him or Kikyo that he was pinning over someone else and that someone seemed just as into him…

When he went to break things off with Kikyo in person, she tried to get him to stay. She was willing then to go ‘all the way’. He turned her down and she jumped him. Trying to take advantage of the weakness he had displayed when he had tried to separate from her before by kissing him and trying to take off his clothes.

But he refused her. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he did end up pushing her off of him and pinned her to the wall telling her to control herself. He didn’t want to be with her anymore. He even went so far to tell her there was someone else.

She went into a rage and started throwing things at him—calling him unfaithful and threatening to call the police for ‘breaking and entering’ and ‘trying to rape her’. He left and immediately sought out Kagome.

She had been alone in her apartment; Sango and Miroku were out and probably were staying over at his place. He knocked on the door, sopping wet from the rain he had ran through to get to her from Kikyo’s townhouse. She opened the door startled and immediately began fussing over him, leading him to the couch and helping him take off his jacket and grabbing him a towel and blanket to warm up. She didn’t ask what had happened—she knew the relationship between him and Kikyo was messy and didn’t want to pry.

He had grabbed her hand as she continued to try and dry him off. Staring deeply into her chestnut eyes, he pulled her into a deep kiss that initially had shocked her, but then she allowed him to deepen as she straddled his lap wrapping her arms around him. He had broken off the kiss and rested his forehead against hers and then kissed her temple lightly.

That was how most of their nights had gone. He wasn’t sure how to bring up the whole ‘you’re my mate’ topic. She was also considerably younger than him. He was twenty-six; graduated with his master’s and held a steady job at his dad’s company for pharmaceuticals. She was a freshman going to school for nursing, bent on getting her doctorate so she could teach. As a half-demon, time wasn’t a pressing issue for him if he had to wait for his mate to grow up. But his mate smelled of arousal constantly. Her scent drew him in from a crowd to be right by her side. He couldn’t get enough of it. He would ensure though nothing went too far… At least not ‘til he grew a pair and told her.

Often when they started dating, they would enjoy nights in snuggled on the couch watching movies. She was always disappointed when it hadn’t led to more but there in lied the issue—she didn’t know what that would actually mean. She was virgin (basically; she had an inch more experience—oral sex, ya know?)— she had a boyfriend in high school named Hobo or something—wait—no, Hojo. Apparently, he was the most boring individual she had ever met. She was so excited to go to school with Sango and leave her town behind. Happier to have met him…

“Kagome, Kikyo is fuckin’ crazy. I don’t even know when she made time to approach you, but I swear while I was grabbing our drinks I thought the guy next to her was acting weird so I acted like I knew her to get him to leave her alone. I never thought she’d kiss me.”

“Inuyasha—”

“Kagome, I was the one who broke up with Kikyo when I came over to your place that night when we first kissed. She didn’t break-up with me this time. I was in love with someone else and knew I needed to end it before I wasn’t faithful to her anymore, even though she hadn’t been loyal to me for years... I didn’t want to be with her—I still don’t.”

The poor dense girl trapped between his arms shook and started to cry, “But you kissed me! How is that fair to the other girl! You-You’ve been seeing me…” Trailing off she met his eyes slightly hopeful but held some disbelief.

“Yea? What about it, stupid?” he asked as he picked her by bottom bringing her body flush against him. “I’ve been trying to take things slow with us not because I don’t care, but because you mean more to me than anyone ever has…Kagome, I—” he looked down sucking in an encouraging breath. Fuck he was so nervous. She had just said she loved him. He was probably fucked up in the head after everything he had been through with Kikyo the past couple years… They had said they loved each other. How fake that turned out to be. Trust was something he always had issue with but hell, he needed to put some faith in Kagome. The past couple months had been so… He realized he hadn’t actually been living life without Kagome. He merely stumbled through the fog of existence until she came. Even when they were just friends, she was everything he was missing.

He looked back into her eyes and couldn’t hold himself back when he leaned his head down to claim her lips. She didn’t fight him—she immediately accepted him. Always. His kagome held no reservations for him. He could taste her tears as his lips hungrily waved over hers begging her for more. She whimpered and lifted her hands to the back of his head, begging him not to stop. It was then it dawned on him what she wanted. Her scent. Spicy. Musky. Fuckkkkkkk. He had to stop this from progressing before he couldn’t take it anymore.

Pulling back reluctantly, they both panted. He carried her to her bedroom and sat her down on the bed but couldn’t bring himself to pull away further. It was taking all his self-control to not maul her like the animal he was. Swallowing hard, he looked down at the girl in between his arms.

“Kagome… We—We do need to talk. Before we go further.”

“Okay…” she said softly.

“What do you know about demons?”

“Uhm… they are basically immortal, powerful, have an aura some people can sense, have specialized abilities, mate with one person typically?”

“Yea… that’s right.”

“But…” He could tell where she was trying to go with that—him and Kikyo.

“I’m a half-demon. A half-breed. I can overrule my demonic instincts because of my weak human side. If I had enough desire for sex, I could have had sex without officially mating with someone else, that is, if anybody had even wanted me.”

“Don’t… talk about yourself like that. Your human side isn’t weak,” she grazed his cheek with her delicate fingers. “It’s what makes you thoughtful, caring, sweet… Your demon side if what makes you strong, loyal, protective… You’re the best of both. But what…do you mean if anybody had wanted you?”

“No one ever saw me like you do. They only saw the flaws I lacked or over bared. Kikyo and I never had gone that far. She didn’t like my demonic blood. To be honest, my inner demon didn’t like her either but because I didn’t want to be alone, I put up with her shit.”

“But she said—”

“What part about ‘she’s fuckin’ crazy’ isn’t getting through your thick skull? When I went to break up with her, she tried to seduce me and—fuck! She tried—if I—I told her no and pushed her off me. She only wanted to give me herself to me because I told her I was finally done. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t want to be with her, even my human heart refused her. She wasn’t you. You had accepted me for who I was, touched me without reservations, talked to me like a normal person and fuck—my inner demon couldn’t stand the thought of trying to be with anyone else. I didn’t want to pretend either… Every part of me wants all of you. I knew if we progressed any further, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I can barely control myself now,” he admitted as he dropped his head to her shoulder. His nose instinctively lowered to the crook of her shoulder—where he would mark her. Her breath hitched at the contact.

“I know you’re young; I don’t want to force you into anything you aren’t ready for—and after tonight I get it. You said it yourself—this is still new and fresh. We don’t have to rush things. I clearly need to make sure you know that this isn’t some tryst or rebound. This is it. You. You are my endgame. You are my true mate. If you aren’t ready for that I get it—it’ll fuckin’ suck, but I’ll understand. If you still want to break up, I—” he swallowed hard trying to force the words his demon was trying to hold back. “I’ll back off. For now. I’ll try to win you back; but I understand if you want a break. That doesn’t mean I’ll accept that to be our fate. You were born for me; and I was born for you.”

Her hand remained on his cheek as she gazed lovingly into his eyes while he laid everything on the table. He could tell she was nervous but receptive about everything he said.

“Why… did it take you so long to come after me?” she asked hesitantly, raising her other arm to wrap around his neck.

“After I got her off me, the other guy who she actually was with tried to pick a fight. Had to sort shit out with the bartender. By the time I realized you hadn’t come over to ask what was going, I could smell you had left… crying… I figured you’d had come home.”

“Ah… I’m sorry I left,” her eyes glazed over with lust.  

“Kagome, you—you understand right? You get what this will do? I won’t be able to stop or control myself. I could—”

“You would never hurt me, Inuyasha. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you like I should have… I just—I never thought someone as beautiful and wonderful as you would ever see me as anything more than a friend. I never let myself think you cared as much about me as I did about you,” she brought her lips to his and melted into his body as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him.

Fuck, if she didn’t taste amazing—she the most intoxicating individual he had ever met. He didn’t like most people, but to be fair most people didn’t like him. When he had first met Kagome, he immediately pushed her away fearing for the worst. But when she continually sought him out and didn’t block him out, he was a goner.

He lowered himself onto her as he gently nudged her to lay back on her bed and crawled to hover over her. She reached for the buttons on his dress shirt and started working them in her dainty hands. He took the opportunity to move his lips down her jawline to her neck, then laved his tongue against the crock. Her shiver only made him harder than he already was from their heated kissing. His hands went to the back of her cocktail dress to find the zipper. Feeling his exploring fingers, she arched into him to allow him to unzip. He stopped kissing her neck and looked back into her hazy caramel eyes.

“You… are you sure?”

“Yes,” she sighed as she retook his lips in hers. He pulled down her zipper and helped her as she shimmied out of her dress not breaking contact of their locked lips.

FUCK. SHE. WAS. NAKED. SHE. WASN’T. WEARING. A. BRA. OR. PANTIES. FUCK. SHIT. HOLY. FUCKKKKKKKK.

She must’ve somehow heard his very loud thoughts. Maybe he said it out loud. Anything was possible. He had unintentionally stopped kissing her when he felt no fabric beneath his fingers. But she stopped moving and giggled. She fucking giggled. This shy little virgin beneath him was a tease. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders while he was gaping at her.

“I really had been hoping tonight would be the night. I figured it would go easier without extra clothing I didn’t need,” a sultry smile appeared across her pink lips. Yep. It was official. She was going to be the death of him. And frankly, he didn’t give a damn. He’d die happily with her right here in her arms.

Smirking his own smile, he dipped down and caught one of her nipples in his mouth making her gasp in pleasure. There was a heavy spike in her scent and without the dress to somewhat hide it, he knew she was growing wetter and wetter. He decided to let his fingers do some explorations of their one. While his mouth moved to the other nipple, one hand went to play with the other, and his other hand journeyed south to test how wet she actually was.

Shitttttttttt. I’m never gonna last. I’m about to cum in pants now. He groaned into her breast he was nibbling on. Her hands were lost in his mane stroking his ears as he kissed and nipped his way down to her core. He settled himself in between her silky thighs and softly ran his claws up them. She yelped and he stopped immediately scared he had hurt her.

“Uh! Please don’t stop,” she pleaded softly eyes squeezed shut, trembling and aching for his touch. He nodded hesitantly and refocused himself on his prize. Tasting her other opening. He could only explain his dying need due to his half-dog-demon status. He knew humans did that to each other too, but his craving seemed almost abnormal. He knew it was weird when his nose nudged her curls and he sniffed. She had stiffened and her scent filled with anxiousness.

He looked up to her face and she was looking back at him, “Everything ok? Do-do I need to shower?” she questioned biting her lip.

“No! Sorry, uhm… You just smell so… good.”

She smiled and lightly stroked his cheek, “Ok, sorry. I was just worried with your sense of smell I didn’t smell good.”

“Fuck, if anything you smell too fantastic.”

“Re-Really?” Blushing hotly, she relaxed.

“Kagome,” he said as he shifted himself to come back over her face to look her in her eyes. “Everything about you calls to me. Your scent. Your body. Your smart mouth. Your big expression filled eyes. Everything. I want you. I need you. Nobody else. You are my mate. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”

She started to tear up from his proclamations, “Then don’t doubt yourself either, Inuyasha. You won’t hurt me or disgust me. I love you for who you are. All of you.”

He bent down to kiss her again and he realized he had never really been this forthcoming about his feelings or his intentions. His instincts were pushing him to be more open with her because there was an unbreakable trust in her. His demon blood knew she was meant to be with him and had only been pushing him for half a year to take her as his. The craziest part about it was the fact she really did fully accept him, without hesitations. She was only afraid he didn’t accept her… He was going to make sure after tonight, that would never be a question in her mind ever again.

He dipped back down to her core and finally took his first savory lick of her juices. She gasped and her hands wove in his hair, egging him on in his endeavors. His ears flicked at every breathy moan and sigh as he tried to pay attention to what she liked the best.

The nub he found with his tongue seemed to make her wither and moan the loudest, so he kept most of his attentions there while he carefully used his fingers to tease her opening. He could tell by sound, scent, and movements she was spiraling. He was fairly sure he had never been so hard in his life. As amazing as it was, he wanted to make sure he finally entered his mate tonight. Any other night he could return and stay longer in this area, but he was too close to the edge to keep this torture on her going. He clasped his lips around her clit and sucked causing her cry out him name and still her movements while her felt his walls quake around his fingers.

Once she relaxed, he crawled back up her and hastily took her in rough kiss to try and bring her back. She immediately sprang back into action and met his need with equal hunger. Her hands reached for his pants; she undid his belt, button, and zipper then used her feet to edge the pants the rest of the way down. Once they were fully off, he lined himself up with her entrance and she wrapped her legs around his thighs.

“Kagome, you’re sure?”

“I almost wish you had been lying about your lack of self-control because then I wouldn’t have to convince you to sleep with me.”

He chuckled at her response while she giggled, “I’m just making sure. Forever is a long time for us as we have only seeing each other for a couple of months.”

“Inuyasha, I never want you to feel unloved ever again. I never want to be without you. I know I’m young and could be considered naïve, but I know what I want. I want you. I promise I’ll always be by your side.”

“I’ll never ask you to leave; you belong here with me,” he thrusted into her causing her breath to get caught and her body to cringe. He remained still giving her time to adjust to the foreign invasion. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he knew it ultimately would be uncomfortable—per his talks from his perverted friend Miroku.

Fuck he was about to be done. She was so tight and twitching around his hardened encased member. He prayed to whatever God was listening to grant him the strength to not blow his load right then. When he heard her breathing settle and felt her move her hips slightly, he took his cue to slowly start moving. He pulled out slowly and then pumped back in experimentally until he found a good rhythm that had her responding heatedly.

He felt her hips bucking, matching him thrust for thrust. Shitttttt—it was taking everything he had not to let go. He had to do something to get her where he was. He reached down and started to use his fingers on that little gem that got her to peek last time. His ministrations got her to respond even louder and move harder against him.

He felt her walls start to vibrate against him, so he took a chance and dipped his head to catch her breast in his mouth. She stilled all her movements and cried out for him. The way she moaned his name—damnit—that was enough to push him over the edge. He rose up and bit into her neck as he came. They pulsed together until they were both drained. Releasing her from his bite, he pulled out of her as delicately as he could then flopped down next to her. He was completely spent. She turned to him and he readjusted quickly to be on his back to pull her to lay on his chest.

Sighing from content me, she looked into his eyes, “So… I’m yours?”

“Heh, that’s right,” Inuyasha smiled gently as he lightly stroked her hair from her face.

“And you’re… mine?”

“Yours. Forever,” he nuzzled her nose with his own before resting in her hair.

“My mom is going to be so excited! She kept telling me how she wanted grandkids with your ears!!!!”

Looking directly at her, his eyes wide and full of shock he was sure, “Wh—what??!!”

“Hahahaha, she knew I had it bad for you. Don’t worry, no rush on the kids. I’d like to at least get to my master’s degree first,” she said she batted those long lashes at him.

“Keh, we have nothing but time,” he said as his kissed her forehead.

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The College Years - Freshman Year (Chapter 13) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles​

Title: “The Parents Weekend”

Characters: Stiles & Noah Stilinski, Derek & Cora Hale, Scott & Melissa McCall, Malia Tate, Ethan, Isaac Lahey & Chris Argent, Reader’s Father, Tom Y/L/N & Reader/OFC

Warnings: None, maybe language, who knows...

A.N.: This is pretty short but I just like the idea of Stiles getting grilled by your Dad while you get grilled by Noah. Plus it’s a major set-up for the next chapter........

Summary: Parent's Weekend has come and the mothers, fathers, and surrogate parents of Berkeley's underclassmen have descended upon campus. The pack has a large family dinner. Sheriff Stilinski questions Y/N, and Scott, Stiles, Mr. Argent and Y/N’s dad, Tom Y/L/N, finally have a discussion.

Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen

"So why is your Dad coming and not your Mom?" Scott, who was on the other side of Stiles, asked you.

"My Mom couldn't get out of work and he kept saying 'if he's paying for Berkeley, he wants to see me there.'" You rolled your eyes.

"Maybe your dad will have some information about the vampires that he'd be more willing to share in person.." Scott reasoned.

"Maybe your dad will be able to convince you to take the martial arts class with Scott and I so that I don't have to worry about you." Stiles said, frustrated, flailing his arms.

"Hmm... nah." You replied, snarkily.

Stiles opened his mouth, shocked and frustrated by your sass. "Why won't you just take it. Y/N, come on." Stiles whined.

"I was forced to take tae kwon do in high school and I hated every minute of it.... I'm not saying that I got knee surgery to get out of tae kwon do, but I'm also not saying that I didn't milk it for way longer than was real..." You said facetiously, a smug grin spreading across your face.

"I hate you, you know that, right?" Stiles glared at you, as you all walked home from campus.

"Mhmm." You smiled as you glanced down to see your hand intertwined with his. You squeezed his hand, and he glanced down at you, a smile turning up his lips. "Maybe, like boxing or krav maga or something, I just don't want to do martial arts."

"Krav maga would be cool, you could see if Cora and Malia want to do it with you?" Scott suggested.

"That's a good idea."

"Now I hate the both of you." Stiles said as he closed the front door of their apartment behind him, watching you walk through his bedroom door and drop your backpack on the floor. He followed after you, seeing a trail of your backpack, coat, one shoe, the other shoe.

"So you hate me, huh?" You said with a grin, standing on Stiles' bed, pulling your shirt over your head, and tossing it to the ground. Stiles stepped back, cocked his head to the side, and then closed his bedroom door behind him.

"I definitely... definitely don't hate you." Stiles said as he rushed to the bed, watching you drop down to your knees.

He wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you close to him. You placed your hands in his hair and began kissing him. You sucked on his bottom lip and he moved down to your neck. He kissed across your collarbones and your shoulders, pulling the straps of your bra down as he moved along your body. You moaned quietly at his touch. He moved back up to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you moved your fingers to unbutton his purple flannel shirt. Stiles heard your phone vibrate against his hardwood floors.

"Y/N, that was the third time your phone went off, maybe it's important..." Stiles said, holding your arm as you reached to pull his t-shirt off.

"It's fine, just leave it." You brushed it off, as you went to kiss his neck, pulling his shirt off over his head.

The phone went off again.

Stiles dropped to the bed beside you. "Damnit." He sat up and looked for your jacket. "Here, just see who it is."

"I have six missed calls from Hanna and Sarah.." You said as you hit play on a voicemail left by one of your roommates.

"Hey, so I just let your dad into the building but you're not here... sooooo Lamb and I are just going to keep trying to call you... or try to get Scott or Stiles' number from Simon since you're probably with one of them. Okay call me back." Hanna spoke frantically over the voicemail.

"Oh my god.. I completely lost track of time... I have to go." You said as you searched the floor for your shirt. "I'll see you at dinner later tonight?" You said as you ran out his bedroom door.

"Yea, see you later." Stiles yelled out the front door of his apartment, as he pulled his t-shirt back over his head.

You opened the door to your apartment and saw Scott and Melissa McCall, Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski, and Derek and Cora Hale waiting to be let in. You stepped out of the way, gesturing for everyone to step inside. Malia and Ethan were already sitting at the table with Isaac and Mr. Argent, and your dad, Tom.

You grabbed Stiles' arm and yanked him into the kitchen. "Just to warn you, my dad is pissed because it's really obvious that I have not been sleeping here for most of the semester and he's probably going to talk to you at some point."

"Okay, well this is horrible. I haven't even met your dad and he hates me." Stiles said, his eyes widening with anxiety and fear.

"Did your dad bring his gun? Actually it doesn't matter, Scott can probably just protect you."

"What?!" He whisper-yelled. "Are you serious?"

"It'll be fine, just let him yell at you and then talk about wanting to be like your Dad or talk about the Mets."

"Is that even going to work?" Stiles asked. You shrugged.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could help." Sheriff Stilinski said, halting the conversation.

"Dad, did you bring your gun tonight?" Stiles asked, as he checked his dad's belt.

"...No, and get off me. I'm in a room full of magical creatures and we're having dinner, I thought I could leave the badge at home for one night." Noah retorted, shaking his head at his son.

"I can't count on you for anything, can I?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at his dad, before catching you motioning your head for Stiles to go back out to the party. "Ugh, if you hear a loud thud, I've literally died of terror." Stiles complained as he left the kitchen.

"I wanted to see if you wanted some help, thought it was a shame that I didn't get to spend much time with you when you were in Beacon Hills but you know, as far as excuses go.." Noah rambled.

"Uh, yea, I mean, I'm almost done but if you could watch the peppers for me, I can finish the pasta." You handed him a wooden spoon, and then went to work cooking.

"So where did you learn to cook?" Noah asked.

"My mom, and my dad, I guess. They're both really excellent cooks. Do you cook much, Sheriff?" You asked, nervous about where the conversation was going.

"No, no, not too much. Probably for the best too, I was never as good of a cook as Stiles' mom. Uh, Stiles tells me that you're a history and political science major with a minor in Arabic? Did I get that right?"

"Yes, actually you did. It's a lot of work but I really like my classes, and Stiles and I even signed up for a few poly sci classes together for the Fall. It should be fun." You replied, smiling, happy that the conversation was going well.

"And you're from New York? You a Mets fan?"

"Yankees..." You answered reluctantly, wanting to make a good impression on the Sheriff.

"Oh that's too bad, we are definitely Mets fans in the Stilinski house... Uh, Stiles also tells me that you're a witch..." Noah stated, nervously.

You stirred your vodka sauce for a few moments before answering. "I am."

"Do your roommates know about all of this?"

"No, not yet. That's why they're not here tonight. They're out with their own parents right now." You explained.

Sheriff Stilinski put his spoon down on the counter and turned to you. "I hate to ask this but I need to know, are you the kind of witch who can cast spells or make potions or anything like that?"

"No.. in that respect, I am no different from Dr. Deaton. My real power lies in my telekinesis and energy fields and invisibility and the occasional card trick." You joked, trying to lighten to conversation.

"So you can't make a love potion or something like that?" He asked.

"......No, nothing like that.... Why do you ask, Sheriff?"

"I didn't mean to intrude or imply anything, I just thought my son would never get over Lydia Martin, especially after what she did to him. Hell, I haven't even forgiven Parrish yet and I work with the guy... But the last few months, since Stiles met you, he has been so happy and so.... normal with you, I just, I had to make sure that you didn't spike his lemonade or something." Noah explained. "I just haven't seen my son this happy since his mother died, and I had to make sure it was real. I hope you didn't take offense."

You shook your head, lightly smiling as you stirred your sauce more. "No offense taken, Sheriff, I get it. I'm glad that I have made Stiles so happy. He makes me very happy too. You raised.... the best son." You said, your smile widening.

"Is dinner ready yet? I am dying out there with your dad, Y/N." Stiles burst through the kitchen door.

You nodded and pointed to the plates on the counter, prompting Stiles to set the table.

Everyone sat down at dinner and discussed school, work, the wendigos in Beacon Hills and the vampires in Berkeley. When dinner was over, and most people were helping to clear the table and get dessert set out, Scott, Chris Argent, Stiles and Tom Y/L/N sat at the table on your terrace.

After an hour, when dessert finally made its way onto the table, you went out to retrieve the men from the balcony. Your dad and Mr. Argent walked back inside to join the others.

"So what'd he say?" You asked, half closing the door behind you, blocking their exit.

"The irony of all of this is going to be astounding." Stiles remarked.

"Mr. Argent is going to head back to Beacon Hills with Isaac tonight to talk to Gerard."

"So he'll do it?" You asked, excited.

"Your dad agreed to it. He's going to set up the meeting for Easter weekend, when we're on Spring Break." Scott told you.

"We've gotta book tickets to New Orleans then, Allison is going to be the new Jesus." Stiles said jokingly, placing a hand on yours and Scott's shoulder, as you all walked back into the apartment.

Twelve <- -> Fourteen

Get fucking stoked for the next chapter coming at you tomorrow, and get your requests to be tagged in it now because it’s posting early and with all the premiere madness, you might just miss it.

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